My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion

As the year-end approaches, Dragon Tail City gradually fills with the sound of firecrackers, their crackling noise mixed with smoke often drifting into the Prince Mansion, drawing the maids and servants, still innocent at heart, to stop and stare.

And so another year comes to an end.

The housekeeper has already received the Princess’s favor, opening the storeroom to distribute rolls of brand-new red silk and stacks of gilded red paper.

Nimble-handed young maids stand on benches, balancing on their toes as they carefully replace the old lanterns under the veranda eaves with brand-new, warm-glowing, large red lanterns. The red hue reflecting on their youthful faces seems to warm the chilly winter air.

The washerhouse matrons switch the bed curtains, chair covers, and table cloths in each room and courtyard to auspicious patterns befitting the season, and the hot water boils more abundantly than usual, the steamy warmth mingling with the clear scent of soapwort disperses the prolonged cold chill.

According to the old traditions of the Prince Mansion, from New Year’s Eve to the fifteenth of January, most duties are temporarily paused, and the servants can take turns to enjoy some leisure days. Bonuses are indispensable, handed out in red envelopes imprinted with auspicious wishes, distributed according to rank. Those who receive them are all smiles; many maids and servants, sold into the household from childhood or seeking livelihood amid family decline, have long been far from their native land, with little prospect of returning for the new year festivities.

Even so, those hefty red envelopes serve as their reliance and hope for the year.

A few close-knit young maidens gather in the side room, basking in the warmth of the charcoal brazier, chatting away enthusiastically.

"I’m asking Steward Wang’s family to send mine back to my mother; my younger brother is planning to get married, so it’ll be good to add a bit more," says a thick-featured maid quietly.

"I’m saving mine; maybe when I save enough..." another maid with lively eyes pauses ambiguously.

"I’d like to go to the street and buy some new floral fabric to make a dress! I’ll send back the rest," the youngest giggles, already imagining herself in her new attire.

A place one cannot return to is called home; even when one cannot return, having money makes one think of sending money back.

Compared to the previous couple of years, perhaps due to the Prince’s wedding to a new concubine this year, the Prince Mansion is particularly festive. However, regarding that concubine, the maids and servants don’t have a deep impression, only finding her demeanor cold and aloof, and every time glimpsing her from afar, feeling a kind of distant rejection that makes them want to avoid her. In their exchanges, they realize none of them can describe the concubine’s appearance.

That being the case, maybe she’s not the kind of beauty that brings ruin to the country, otherwise, nobody would forget. But to be favored by the Prince, she must have her extraordinary qualities.

After all, lately, anyone with eyes can see the Princess growing increasingly distant from the Prince.

No one dares slight Princess Consort Zhu for this; furthermore, the Nanwei Zhu Family is a pivotal Tusi clan in the Southern Border, not to mention the Princess and Prince are a couple bonded through hardship, and their current estrangement is merely temporary, far beyond the involvement of servants. It’s only those families with reckless conduct, who indulge in concubines and neglect wives, that would permit servants to stir up trouble. And most crucially, bearing children grants a mother status, with the Prince’s first child born through Princess Consort Zhu, whereas the concubine has yet to bear any.

"How could the Prince spoil the concubine so much without the Princess getting angry?" the thick-featured maid wonders.

The lively-eyed maid replies, "Maybe... the new concubine is a Consort Yang who can’t have children?"

"Ah, that would explain it, a Consort Yang!" the youngest maid says but quickly turns her head, "But I’ve not heard the concubine using musk, though the Princess uses it often."

"Who knows, the one who can’t have children is the concubine, not the Princess."

The three young maids huddle by the side room’s charcoal brazier, chatting away without realizing that at the end of the corridor, a bold, captivating figure in crimson red is approaching.

Only when the footsteps draw near do they startle and look up, finding Zhu E already standing at the side room entrance, the sunlight streaming through the window lattice, her face expressionless as she gazes quietly. The three young maids scramble to their feet, bowing respectfully for the greeting.

"Busy season of the year needs extra hands everywhere," Zhu E begins, her tone as gentle as before, "but you three have the leisure to gossip here?"

The three maids lower their heads further, not daring to reply.

"In the Prince Mansion’s rules, what penalty applies for speaking ill of the masters?" Zhu E’s voice is steady, her words striking their hearts, "Thinking of the holiday, harsh punishment is exempted.

Go to the garden, clean up the dead branches and fallen leaves thoroughly, and scrape off the moss from the stone paths meticulously; once you’re done, you needn’t return to rest today."

Upon hearing the task, the maids tremble, sneaking glances at each other in disbelief. The Prince Mansion’s garden is extensive, with plenty of woods; sweeping up the fallen leaves in this season takes at least half a day, not to mention the slippery, troublesome moss. They laments inwardly but can only agree.

Zhu E spares them no more attention, turns, and leaves, her red attire swiftly disappearing around the corridor corner.

When the Princess walks away, the three maids look at each other anew, faces marked by fear and bewilderment.

The maids are all quite young, usually reprimands for errors come with a lecture or deduction from the monthly stipend, never has there been such heavy labor...

What’s more, they were talking about the concubine’s inability to have children, not the Princess...

As the night falls, the lanterns throughout the Prince Mansion light up one by one, spreading clusters of warm glows, enveloping the red beams and jade steps, flying eaves, and curved gables in an atmosphere of harmony and festivity.

Thinking of the new year, Miss Donggong is exuberant, hopping alone in the shadow cast by the lanterns over the corridor pillars.