Empress’ Game: Make-up Master Chapter 40 - Dark night, High Wind

“Right, Qingxing. Tell me quickly—is Wu Sheyue dead yet? Didn’t she anger the Eighth Prince?” Wu Jinghua suddenly sank into thought. “The Eighth Prince kept saying he wanted to pursue the matter. She was a foolish ugly girl. Father shouldn’t offend the imperial family for her, right?”

“This…” Qingxing lowered her head and said nothing. The girl was clearly no longer foolish or ugly, and… the emperor might not necessarily offend the Chancellor’s residence for the Eighth Prince’s sake. But she didn’t speak. She didn’t want to provoke Wu Jinghua.

But Wu Jinghua frowned and pressed on. “You should know something, right? Aren’t you able to go out?”

“I… I haven’t heard anything. Concubine Meng can’t go out freely either.” Qingxing swallowed. “Second Miss, I’ll go change your porridge.” As she spoke, she quickly gathered the bowls from the table and walked out.

Qingxing’s heart pounded. Concubine Meng had repeatedly warned her not to mention a single word about Wu Sheyue, but Second Miss kept asking, and she was afraid of bringing trouble on herself.

Wu Jinghua stared at Qingxing’s back and frowned. Had something good happened instead?

Qingxing left and didn’t return. Wu Jinghua stared at the mess on the table and sneered. She had known Qingxing couldn’t be relied on.

Before Qingxing came back, someone else arrived. There was a knock at the door. Wu Jinghua’s eyes lit up. “Chuntao?”

Chuntao carefully pushed the door open and entered. “Miss, what is it?”

Wu Jinghua grabbed her and asked, “How has Wu Sheyue been lately? Did you ask around for me?”

“She…” Chuntao’s face was full of resentment. She immediately poured everything out like beans from a bamboo tube. “The West Courtyard has been renovated. The Old Madam added many things. Not only did the First Madam send over several maids, but she’s being fed delicacies and fine food every day. She’s taken quite a few good things these past few days. The West Courtyard now is—ah!”

Wu Jinghua suddenly smashed a cup on the floor, frightening Chuntao into silence.

“Qingxing really was hiding it from me! But why? Why?” Wu Jinghua muttered. She couldn’t understand why someone the whole family had hated had climbed over her head simply because her face had healed. “No, that makes no sense. Then… what about the Eighth Prince? How can she be more important than a prince?”

This time, Chuntao didn’t dare talk nonsense. She carefully took a step back. “Chuntao isn’t clear about that. This servant doesn’t dare be seen going out now…”

Wu Jinghua had never suffered such humiliation. She had been fed flies by a fool, and yet she herself had been locked up. Even if she and Wu Sheyue had no feud in those previous years, they had one now.

“Isn’t she good at hitting people? Then let’s… go beat her up.”

“Ah? But can we beat her? That fool somehow has enormous strength.” Chuntao still felt lingering fear when she remembered Wu Sheyue kicking her chin. It hadn’t healed yet.

Wu Jinghua said darkly, “Openly hitting her won’t work, but we can scheme in secret. Isn’t she good at pretending to be a ghost and frightening people? Then we’ll pretend to be ghosts and frighten her to death. If we can’t frighten her to death, we can beat her to death.”

Chuntao’s heart stirred. Naturally, she hated Wu Sheyue. After all, the first person Wu Sheyue had struck had been her. Her chin had nearly shattered, and her whole body had hurt for several days. She immediately raised both hands in agreement. “Second Miss, what do we do?”

“Frightening someone in the dark is easy. Go prepare some things for me.” Wu Jinghua’s thinking was very direct. “Hmph. I refuse to believe she has martial skill like Father. We’ll sneak out in the dark and sneak back in the dark. She’s a motherless dead girl. Who will support her?”

“Right!” Chuntao’s eyes lit up. The chance for revenge seemed to be before her.

The sky gradually darkened. Bailian carried the medicine bowl out, and Ning’er entered to grind ink for Wu Sheyue.

Wu Sheyue suddenly put down her brush. Ning’er tilted her head and asked, “Miss, what is it?”

“When will the Chancellor return?” In private, Wu Sheyue wasn’t used to calling anyone Father.

“The Chancellor still hasn’t come back.” Ning’er knew what Wu Sheyue wanted to ask. Lowering her head, she whispered, “Ning’er heard… the Eighth Prince really did go complain to the emperor. The emperor didn’t seem to say much. Now the Eighth Prince is recuperating from his injuries.”

Wu Sheyue nodded. “For now, the Chancellor is still blocking this matter. What I said at the front gate wasn’t for nothing. But once he finishes handling Concubine Yin’s matter, he’ll have blocked as much as he can.”

Ning’er also remembered the scene then and became indignant again. “Luckily Miss had foresight. Otherwise, the Eighth Prince would have taken advantage.” That man killed Concubine Yin and still wanted to possess her young lady? Dream on.

“All right. Don’t become like this every time he’s mentioned. I promise this grudge will be avenged sooner or later—but not in the next two days. We have to survive first before thinking about anything else. Since the Chancellor can hold things off for a few days, let him. We’ll catch our breath. But six days have passed now. I expect this fire will soon burn back to us.”

“Does Miss have a countermeasure?”

Wu Sheyue said unhurriedly, “I’m thinking. If there’s nothing else, go rest. Let Bailian do these small tasks. Why tire yourself?”

Ning’er was a little worried. “Ning’er used to do much harder work than this. Does Miss still plan to keep her?” She now knew Miss’s methods. If Miss wanted to remove someone, it should be possible.

“For now, keeping her around to work isn’t bad. Besides…” If she made Bailian serve close at hand, Bailian wouldn’t dare do anything. As long as Bailian stayed by her side, one day she would play the role she was meant to play.

Ning’er ground ink for a while, then went back. Afterward, Bailian came in to tidy the bedding and table and serve Wu Sheyue as she rested.

As usual, once Wu Sheyue’s room went dark, Bailian lay down in the side room.

By moonlight, Wu Sheyue came to the window and pushed it open, letting the cool night breeze blow in. She looked at the pale colors of the courtyard flowers beneath the moonlight and felt that this was actually quite pleasant.

She turned, took Yin Qiuming’s box, pulled a pile of finished and half-finished pieces from beneath the bed, carried them to the window, and continued fiddling with them in the faint moonlight.

She wanted to understand the full use of Yin Qiuming’s tools, so she used them to make some special-effects props. Most of the strange heads in the pile were carved from wood, with a few made of cloth. The materials included her own old clothes. Some had already been painted. Under the moonlight, they looked extremely grotesque.

After working for a while, Wu Sheyue frowned and began weighing several knives in her hand. She muttered—why were these two so awkward to use? Should she go find a better one herself?

As she was thinking, she heard a faint sound from far away. A soft crack sounded very clearly in the quiet night.

The sound wasn’t loud. It might not even draw attention. But this body of Wu Sheyue’s had sensitive senses—unlike her original body, which had been unusually dull. She immediately looked toward the courtyard gate, her heart tightening.

Was someone there?