Chapter 7: Skillful Words, A Path to Survival

Hearing Qing’er’s soft command, “Kneel,” Bai Huan gathered her thoughts, knelt properly, and bowed deeply to the ground. “This common girl pays respects to Your Ladyship the Noble Consort.”

Passing around the double-sided embroidered butterflies flitting through peonies before the couch, a delicate, trembling murmur drifted out, as fragile as a new lotus bearing dew, “How old are you? What is your name?”

“Replying to Your Ladyship, this common girl is Bai Huan, sixteen years of age.”

“Does your mother suffer from insomnia as gravely as I do?”

“Replying to Your Ladyship, my mother once endured nearly two years of sleepless nights and poor health, but fortunately encountered Sage Physician Sun. Through medicinal food and fragrant therapies, she was able to rest soundly after three months.”

If she claimed she alone had cured her mother’s insomnia with fragrant blends, no one would believe her. But by mentioning Sage Physician Sun—who hailed from the same place as the Noble Consort, and had repeatedly refused imperial invitations to serve as chief physician—her story gained plausibility.

This man’s repute in the Celestial Sheng Dynasty was unparalleled, yet he was rarely seen.

Having finished, Bai Huan remained prostrate for some time without hearing a sound from within. She only sensed the eunuchs and maids quietly withdrawing but did not dare move, continuing to wait dutifully.

When silence finally fell, a gentle voice sounded at her side, “Daughter of the Bai family, rise and answer.”

Bai Huan slowly got to her feet. Aside from the gentle head maid, all others had left the hall.

Through the screen embroidered with butterflies and peonies, the faint outline of a delicate figure reclining amidst the bed’s undulating silks could be seen.

Bai Huan did not dare look much, fixing her gaze on the crimson woolen carpet beneath her feet.

“What caused your mother’s insomnia?”

“Replying to Your Ladyship, it was due to my elder sister marrying the wrong man. She was tormented to death by her husband’s family. My mother was heartbroken, blaming herself, and could not sleep at night.”

As Bai Huan spoke, her voice choked with grief.

A soft sigh came from behind the screen. “For women, nothing is more dreadful than marrying the wrong man.”

“Your Ladyship is compassionate. My mother has since let go of her sorrow, and I am determined to aid Your Ladyship’s health.”

Through the screen, the Noble Consort appraised the slender figure before her. “So young, are you certain you can prepare a fragrance that will grant me restful sleep?”

Bai Huan composed herself, answering calmly, “Replying to Your Ladyship, I dare not claim so lightly.”

“Restlessness is not merely a matter of the heart; the cause must be thoroughly discerned inside and out. If insomnia persists, treatment must be gradual and never excessive. Otherwise, seeking deep sleep for a night may harm the body’s foundation and lead to severe consequences. Even if the ‘Pear and Goose Chamber Fragrance’ I made for my mother worked wonders for calming the spirit, the blend must be adjusted according to Your Ladyship’s constitution.”

To boast immediately would only make her seem reckless.

The art of fragrance-making was vast and intricate, but in the realm of medicinal scents, none could rival the Bai family. All who studied their craft learned pharmacology; to blend a proper scent required careful observation of the person’s condition, for every person was unique, and so too was each prescription.

The Bai family’s mastery and caution allowed them to stand at the pinnacle of their field.

No sound came from behind the screen.

Had the Noble Consort been convinced?

Bai Huan took a breath and continued, “The way of fragrance draws on the energies of heaven and earth and the essence of plants. It honors the principle of ‘sovereign, minister, assistant, envoy,’ and values the harmony of efficacy, mood, and resonance. The process encompasses eighteen methods—steaming, boiling, roasting, frying, and more. Variations in technique and timing yield different results.”

“Medicinal scents and medicines share the same roots. Just as with prescribing medicine, blending fragrance requires inspection, listening, inquiry, and pulse diagnosis, along with a comprehensive consideration of diet, living habits, and more. Only then can the proper proportions be determined. During use, one must closely observe the effects, control the temperature, and adjust the blend as needed, to ensure true comfort and natural, restorative sleep.”

Bai Huan deliberately spoke at length. She’d deduced that, since the Xue family’s offering had sent the Noble Consort into deep sleep that very night, they must have stolen her formula and used it directly on the Noble Consort, possibly even increasing the dosage to ensure results.

If tomorrow the Xue family again presented the ‘Pear and Goose Chamber Fragrance,’ the Noble Consort would easily discern the truth.

Her aim was to see the Xue family’s crime of theft irrefutably exposed.

It so happened that, thanks to her mother’s year-long insomnia, Bai Huan had indeed spent a month working alongside Sage Physician Sun to develop the current blend.

By weaving truth with fiction, her story became all the more believable.

A moment’s silence passed behind the screen.

“Zhi Yuan, let her come closer.”

Zhi Yuan stepped aside, allowing Bai Huan to approach the couch.

Bai Huan’s heart leaped with joy. She moved carefully toward the Noble Consort and, with a discreet breath, confirmed her suspicions.

To make certain, Bai Huan asked softly, “Your Ladyship, may I take your pulse?”

The Noble Consort was surprised. “You know how to take a pulse?”

“Out of concern for my mother, I learned only the basics of women’s pulses, solely to aid in fragrance blending.”

Bai Huan kept her head lowered, missing the subtle change in the Noble Consort’s expression.

Zhi Yuan grew wary, circled the chamber, and upon returning gave a barely perceptible shake of her head to the Noble Consort. Receiving a slight nod in reply, Zhi Yuan raised the curtain and blanket, revealing a slender, fair hand from beneath the purple-gold drapes.

Bai Huan knelt, gently placing her fingers on the pulse.

In truth, she was not there to read the pulse, but to feel the skin’s temperature.

Though autumn had come, the Noble Consort’s arm was both damp with sweat and cold to the touch beneath the silk bedding.

After a moment, Bai Huan withdrew her hand.

“May I examine Your Ladyship’s face?”

Zhi Yuan lifted the curtain higher, finally revealing the famed beauty of the Celestial Sheng Dynasty, beloved above all by the Emperor.

Her brows, arched and fine, seemed dusted with lingering snow; long lashes veiled eyes that shimmered with weary light; and her rosebud lips were gently pursed, exuding a lazy, unspoken melancholy.

Consort Cui was just twenty, the age when a young woman is at her most radiant and alluring. Even Bai Huan, herself a woman, was struck by her beauty—what man could resist?

Bai Huan glanced briefly, then quickly dropped her gaze, not daring to linger.

But one glance was enough.

The Noble Consort’s face was thick with powder, especially at her temples, hinting at unhealthy pallor beneath. Her eyes brimmed with fatigue.

If this were merely a common female ailment of dampness, it would not be so severe—especially with the Imperial Medical Bureau’s expertise. How could such an ailment persist untreated?

When Bai Huan had first entered, she had caught, beneath the heavy fragrance, a faint scent of feminine illness and retained lochia. Her observations now confirmed her conclusion.

Her father, being a man and not a physician, could not examine the Noble Consort’s body or complexion. The imperial doctors, for fear or obligation, would not speak the truth, leaving the condition concealed.

Bai Huan hesitated. To speak honestly might mean risking her life.

But if she said nothing, the problem would not be solved, and how then could she save the Bai family within the hour?

The Noble Consort noted her long silence and glanced at Zhi Yuan.

Zhi Yuan prompted, “Daughter of the Bai family, speak freely.”

Summoning her courage, Bai Huan knelt. “If the fragrance does not address the root cause, not only will Your Ladyship’s precious health suffer, but it may also affect your future heirs. I beg Your Ladyship’s pardon for my boldness.”

At these words, the Noble Consort’s expression changed. She sat up, and Zhi Yuan hurried to prop her with a cushion.

Through the gauze, the Noble Consort studied the young girl, then parted her lips gently, “You are pardoned. Speak.”

Bai Huan steadied herself. “Your Ladyship’s pulse shows excess dampness and deficient fire, with weakness and evil invading, dampness descending. But this is only the surface. If I may be so bold—has Your Ladyship recently miscarried?”

Zhi Yuan’s pupils contracted sharply, and she turned to the Noble Consort, whose face darkened behind the curtain, her phoenix eyes flashing with anger and murderous intent.

The room fell utterly silent.

Bai Huan pressed her forehead to the ground, barely daring to breathe.

She reviewed every detail. Perhaps the key to the matter lay here.

A miscarriage might be the Noble Consort’s deepest secret, hidden even from the Emperor. Thus she avoided physicians, her frail state compounded by anxiety, creating her current condition.

The Noble Consort masked her bodily scent with heavy fragrance. She cited insomnia to evade the Emperor’s intimacy. She used her father’s fragrance—rendering her unconscious—as a pretext to conceal the miscarriage and buy time for recovery.

Unless confronted openly and the treatment adjusted, her health would only deteriorate, and her insomnia would never truly be cured.

Her father’s alleged crime would remain, and the Bai family’s fate would be sealed.

In the silence, Bai Huan sensed the weight of murderous intent.

She steeled herself and whispered, “Please, Your Ladyship, I am certain I can ease your insomnia. I have always kept my tongue guarded.”

The Noble Consort’s voice, seductive yet chilling, replied, “Only the dead can keep secrets.”