The carriage eventually left late in the morning.
Still Li Wei. Lying on his side in bed, looking at the wall. The blanket slipped off but he did not bother to pull it back. Eyes open but heavy with sleep, he had hardly slept at all.
Then silence yesterday drifted in his mind, spinning.
Sebastian's eyes looked at him - like dust without a right to cling to silk. And Miss Mei? She didn't look. No signal. No command. No explanation.
It wasn't about the carriage. It was the silence. The meaning behind it.
Discarded. As if he never existed to her; for she might have read her letter, then simply tear it.
"After all that loyalty," he muttered.
A knock stirred him.
Soft. Hesitant.
He sprang up, cleared his eyes of fog, brushed emotion from his face, and stood to open the door.
Ying stood there. Alone. Her face serious.
She stepped inside, gently closing the door behind her. Her eyes searched his.
"You didn't go," she said quietly, though she already knew the answer.
Li Wei just looked at her. He didn't nod. Didn't explain.
"I saw the carriage leave with just the two of them," Ying continued, stepping further into the room. "You were dressed . . . like nobility. I thought maybe she'd ask you to join the next one."
Li Wei smiled bitterly. "She didn't."
Ying sat on the edge of the bed, her brows pinched with concern. "But she called for you . . . didn't she?"
Li Wei sighed. "Don't trouble yourself. These things happen. We continue to work. She . . . she has her reasons. And after all . . . they served."
He trailed off. A stillness settled in the room.
Then he glanced at the window and added, "I will visit Mom today."
"I'd like to come with you," Ying said softly.
He hesitated. "Better I go alone. I don't want trouble to stir at your wing because of me."
Ying didn't argue. But her silence said enough.
Eventually, they go together anyway.
A warm visit, really. Li Wei's mother was recovering well. Her cheeks had color again, her voice had strength. He brought her food and gave the clinic much more money. He smiled more than he had in days.
They returned to the Estate, the sky already dimming and fading.
Ying walked him to his room, lingering for a moment before heading off to the East Wing. She moved quietly through the halls, reaching Miss Mei's chamber just before sunset.
There was quiet in the room, shadows cast across the floor gently.
Ying entered slowly. Her steps soft. Tiptoeing unsure whether she was inside the room of Miss Mei.
But she wasn't.
Ying smiled to herself and just strolled a bit, relaxed even enough for a moment to play. She lifted a long ribbon from the table and twirled it in the air.
But then--she stopped.
Something was off.
From the other side of the chamber, a faint sound. A creak. Gentle. Too light for a door. Maybe a step?
Ying stiffened.
She crept toward the dining room. The door was slightly ajar.
She leaned closer . . . and eased it open, inch by inch.
Inside-she froze.
It was the Handmaiden.
Her back was turned to Ying, but even from the back, it was clear to identify what she held with her in her hand-a small, round object wherein a soft, powdery substance shimmers like dust trapped in a sunbeam.
Then the Handmaiden lowered and sprinkled it upon the food laid out on the table.
Ying's heart jumped.
She had seen it.
And now-she had to decide what to do.m
Ying snuck away quietly, her heart in her chest. She walked cautiously, almost too cautiously, as if to say that even the floorboards might betray her.
She reached Miss Mei's bedroom, stepped in, and soft-clicked the lock behind her. She stood frozen.
Very much so.
Her eyes stared unseeing at the embroidered curtains as her mind sped along.
What did I just see?
With slow movement, she settled down on the edge of the bed, the air caught in her throat somewhere between fear and disbelief.
That weird round thing, that powder… poison?
The last thought sent chills down her back.
But who was it for? Miss Mei? Or… me?
Her grip tightened around the hem of her dress. The picture of the Handmaiden sprinkling the powder however stayed lodged in her mind—calm, steady, deliberate.
She muttered to herself, "I saw it with my own eyes…"
She wanted to run and tell Miss Mei, warn her, explain everything.
But an all new fear gripped her heart.
What if she doesn't believe me?
This Handmaiden had served for years. Everyone trusted her; all the more so, Miss Mei. Ying was still very much new. Still seen as that quite inconsequential helper at the back. It could look like jealousy. Or worse, sabotage.
"She might think I'm trying to take her place… by lying," she whispered to the mirror on the wall.
Something flipped in her mind.
No… not yet.
Ying clenched her lips and got up.
She needed proof; she had to catch the Handmaiden in the act while others were around. Nothing but that would lend credence to her story.
She inhaled deeply, breathing her conscience into calmness.
I shall wait… and observe.
And then, when the time came, she would see to it that the truth came out.
No matter what.