MCSCPM -Chapter 117 Obsessed with Mystic Arts

“Your Majesty, please take good care of your health. Even if the Crown Prince is exhausted, he will still handle state affairs properly. Since you’re worried about the Second Princess, how about I go check on her for you?” Consort De said with a gentle smile, flawless in every way.

“Very well.” Nangong Lin nodded. Consort De had always been mild and noncompetitive—he had always liked her temperament.

Rose Pavilion

“Mei’er, I heard from your father that you’ve been ill these past few days. Looking at your Rose Pavilion, there are pitifully few servants here. How about I send some people over to help you?” Consort De said with a smile, though every word carried hidden barbs.

It was clearly implying that now that her mother was gone, she could no longer manage on her own.

“No need. Thank you for your kindness, Consort De. It’s just me living in the Rose Pavilion—having so many maids would only leave them idle,” Nangong Mei replied calmly. She could never forget how this woman had treated her when she had been imprisoned.

The pain Consort De had inflicted on her—she would repay it many times over.

“Are you sure you don’t need them? There are so few people here that even the courtyard isn’t cleaned properly. You are, after all, the Second Princess. Even though your mother is gone, you shouldn’t wrong yourself like this,” Consort De said gently, her words layered with meaning.

“Thank you for your concern, but I truly don’t need them. Someone, change the tea. Consort De, please have a seat.”

“Mei’er, you look quite pale. It seems your father’s worries were not unfounded.”

“Please trouble Consort De to tell Father that Mei’er is doing fine—there’s no need for him to worry,” Nangong Mei said as she poured tea for Consort De. In her heart, she thought that her father’s ‘concern’ was likely born of guilt rather than true worry.

“That’s good, then.” Consort De studied Nangong Mei carefully.

She had thought Nangong Mei would change after Consort Sun’s death. Instead, she was still just someone who meekly accepted her fate—nothing more than a “fool” obsessed with medicine.

“Consort De, please try the tea from the Rose Pavilion. This is brewed from herbs Mei’er grew herself,” Nangong Mei said with a smile.

“The tea is so refreshing—it truly is something good,” Consort De praised.

“If Your Ladyship likes it, you may take some with you,” Nangong Mei said gently, her fingers unconsciously brushing the teacup.

“This was the tea my mother loved most when she was alive—mixed with the fragrance of bamboo leaves and the medicinal aroma of herbs. It has a unique flavor.”

Consort De smiled in satisfaction. This Nangong Mei was nothing more than someone immersed in medicine and grief over her mother’s death.

“Has Father’s illness improved?”

“Your father is still coughing constantly. Lately, whenever you’re mentioned, he becomes emotional and coughs even more,” Consort De said with a worried expression. She felt a twinge of unease at Nangong Mei’s concern.

“Father will surely live a long life. Nothing will happen to him,” Nangong Mei said softly, her face full of sorrow. This display was for Consort De’s benefit—so long as Consort De did not suspect her, her future actions would naturally remain undiscovered.

“I haven’t done much for you. These are some precious medicinal ingredients I brought—perhaps they can help nourish your body.”

As Consort De finished speaking, several palace maids stepped forward and placed boxes of fine medicinal herbs before Nangong Mei.

“These are lingzhi mushrooms tributed from the Western Regions—excellent for replenishing blood and restoring vitality. And this is Chinese yam. Though it’s common, this one was grown deep in the mountains, so its medicinal value is quite high,” Consort De explained at length, a trace of envy flickering in her eyes. These were not hers to begin with.

They were all extremely valuable medicines the Emperor had instructed her to fetch from the Imperial Medical Institute. How could she herself possess such precious items? The Emperor simply didn’t wish Nangong Mei to know that these medicinal gifts came from him, so he used Consort De as a pretense to give them to her.

“Thank you, Consort De,” Nangong Mei said with a smile. These were indeed rare and top-grade medicinal materials.

“As long as your health recovers soon, we won’t be so worried,” Consort De said thoughtfully, gazing at her teacup.

Nangong Mei froze for a moment, then understood.

“With these precious herbs, Mei’er will recover very soon,” she replied. Yet her lips remained pale, devoid of color.

“I’ll be heading back now. Your father still needs someone to care for him. You rest well here—no need to see me off.”

Before Nangong Mei could respond, Consort De had already left the Rose Pavilion with her attendants, as if she didn’t want to stay a moment longer.

“Heh.” Nangong Mei let out a weak laugh. Her body truly was very frail these days and hadn’t yet recovered. And yet, under such circumstances, she still had to face the countless struggles of the inner palace alone.

Afterward, supported by a palace maid, Nangong Mei slowly returned to her sleeping quarters.

“Second Princess, please get some rest. This servant will take Consort De’s medicinal herbs to prepare a decoction,” the maid said with deep concern. Nangong Mei’s complexion was growing worse by the day, completely devoid of color.

“Go ahead. I need to rest—do not disturb me,” Nangong Mei said weakly.

“Yes, Second Princess.” The maid carefully tucked the blanket around her.

Not long after the maid left, Nangong Mei fell into a deep sleep.

“Mei’er… Mei’er…”

“Mother, don’t leave Mei’er alone… Mother…” Nangong Mei’s hands waved weakly in the air.

“Mei’er…” A man’s voice echoed in her ears for a long time.

“Godfather!” Nangong Mei suddenly opened her eyes and discovered that the man in black was actually sitting beside her bed.

“Mei’er, you’re awake,” the man in black said with a smile. A veil still covered his face—it all felt so real.

“Was I just dreaming?” Nangong Mei asked in confusion, as if she were still trapped in the dream. She could no longer tell which was dream and which was reality.

“You had a nightmare and kept calling for your mother. You must have dreamed of her,” the man in black said softly.

Nangong Mei looked at him in disbelief. “Godfather, how are you here?”

“I came today to tell you something important,” the man in black said seriously. His expression made Nangong Mei feel an unspoken sense of unease.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Since everyone sees you as a sick person, then continue pretending to be ill. Only then will you avoid suspicion. I’m telling you this for your own good.”

“Godfather, Mei’er understands.”

This, too, was a way to protect herself. As long as she appeared ill, no matter what happened in the inner palace, no one would suspect Nangong Mei—because she was a ‘patient.’

“Mei’er, I can’t stay here long. Take good care of yourself. As for that divine female physician in the palace—you must not trust her. She is not simple.”

Nangong Mei nodded, watching her godfather leave. Her brows furrowed tightly—he must have investigated Yin Qingyue.

Just as she suspected, with things having reached this point, Yin Qingyue could not be uninvolved.

Heh. She had once been so close to her, thinking of her at every turn—only to discover that she had been wholeheartedly aligned with the Empress all along.

A woman from the Luocheng Courtyard—did she really think she could escape being used as a sacrifice?

After all, Father was deeply obsessed with mystic arts.