Capítulo 50: The last night at the Temple

As Nanny Na's skilled hands gently brushed through her hair, Han Aeng lazily reached beyond the window, letting her hands feel the cool breeze, her mind seemingly lost in thought.

The festival had come to an end, and with it, the bustling energy of the day. Now, in the quiet sanctuary of Han Aeng's room, the three women found themselves preparing for the early travel the next morning.

"A'Ruyi, when are we heading to the palace again?"

"We'll set off at daybreak," Ruyi responded. While her voice was steady and composed, she moved rather sluggishly as she arranged Han Aeng's robes. "We must rise early to prepare Li Wangfei."

Sensing the weariness of her attendants, Han Aeng made a casual suggestion. "Since you both need to rest soon, why not retire now?"

"Then who is to stand night watch, Wangfei?"

"I don't particularly need anyone tonight," Han Aeng pulled herself back and glanced over her shoulder to look at Nanny Na's troubled face. "Although, if Nanny Na desires company, she is more than welcome."

"Tsk. You're so big now; do you still need someone to watch over my lady?" Nanny Na tousled Han Aeng's hair. "Let A'Ruyi and me retire for the night. We need to be up earlier than you."

Ever since Ruyi started to teach Nanny Na the etiquette of Shangwei's palace, the two seemed to have grown rather close. This was evident in the subtle shifts in Ruyi's typically reserved and formal demeanour whenever she was in Nanny Na's company. It was as if a sense of ease enveloped her, allowing glimpses of warmth and familiarity to shine through.

Han Aeng found this development unsurprising, though. Nanny Na had a knack for making friends with younger girls, and she often said they reminded her of her daughter, whom she lost too early.

"Just say you want to sleep. No need to diss me." Han Aeng rolled her eyes, turning to face the windows again, pouting like a jealous child who had to share her favourite toy. "Now that you two are close, I guess I'm not needed."

Ruyi's eyes twinkled with amusement as she stole a glance at Nanny Na, a silent exchange passing between them.

"Of course not, wangei. You are the glue that bonds us together," Ruyi emphasised reassuringly.

"Thank you, Ruyi. It's nice to know that I'm important to at least one of you." Han Aeng's playful laughter filled the room with warmth, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she turned to Nanny Na. "Shame on you, Nanny Na."

Despite the lightheartedness in Han Aeng's words, Nanny Na couldn't shake off the overwhelming weight of guilt that settled in the pit of her stomach. Each syllable of Han Aeng's laughter felt like a dagger piercing her already burdened heart. She shifted uncomfortably, her shoulders tensing slightly, "Do you want me to stay?"

As the silence stretched between them, Nanny Na couldn't help but second-guess herself. Perhaps she had been too harsh with Han Aeng this time. Her gaze flickered to Han Aeng, her eyes brimming with unspoken apology, a silent plea for understanding.

She longed for Han Aeng to ask her to stay, to offer her reassurance and forgiveness. But Han Aeng remained still, her attention drawn to the vast expanse of the night sky beyond the window.

"Aeng, should I?" Nanny Na took a step forward, her hand hovering near Han Aeng's shoulder. "If you want me to stay, I will."

"Why put on such a brave face if you're going to regret it, Nanny?"

Han Aeng's words landed like a heavy blow on Nanny Na's heart, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within her. A pang of guilt gnawed at her insides, and she couldn't help but feel a hint of hurt at the unexpected reproach.

Caught off guard by Nanny Na's reaction, Han Aeng swiftly reached out, her touch gentle as she rested her hand on Nanny Na's cheek in a gesture of comfort. "Aw, Nanny, don't give me that look," she exclaimed, her tone softening. "I just want you to rest for the long journey back."

"Besides," Han Aeng paused, her playful demeanor taking a teasing turn as she eyed Nanny Na up and down, her brows knit together in exaggerated concern, "you're not getting any younger. Is that a new wrinkle?"

Nanny Na sighed in relief. While she had misunderstood Han Aeng's words, she was grateful for the reassurance that she was not being dismissed.

Gently crossing her arms together. "Just say you want to be alone. No need to diss me." When with her attempt at humor, her eyes betrayed a hint of hurt, revealing her underlying vulnerability to Han Aeng's words.

"You're getting sensitivity as you age." Han Aeng smiled at Nanny Na's, pulling at her cheeks before turning to Ruyi with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine here by myself. You two go ahead and rest."

"As wangfei wishes," Ruyi replied with a silent nod. Ruyi maintained her composed demeanour, though she couldn't help but wonder about the sudden change in Nanny Na's mood and why she was comfortable calling her mistress by name. However, she wasn't close enough to inquire further into Nanny Na's feelings.

"Then rest well," Nanny Na said softly, walking towards the door with Ruyi. "Don't wander around just because you can't sleep."

Han Aeng responded with a lazy "Mm," sinking deeper into the comfort of her surroundings.

"Make sure to drink something warm before bed, too."

She didn't respond. Instead, she let her loose hair billow in the wind, a silent invitation for them to leave her to her thoughts. With a final glance, Ruyi and Nanny Na quietly withdrew, leaving Han Aeng to her thoughts.

The room fell quiet, save for the faint rustle of the curtains in the breeze, as Han Aeng sat by the window, her silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as she remained lost in her thoughts, the events of the festival replaying in her mind.

Try as she might, Han Aeng couldn't shake off the sense of restlessness that kept her awake.

Her senses had been on high alert from the moment they entered the gates of the temple until just a few hours ago, she had noticed the subtle yet unmistakable signs of surveillance directed at her. Though considering they hadn't made a move yet, it meant sneaking her out of the temple undetected was more of a challenge than they anticipated.

Whoever it was, they were clearly planning to act tonight.

If her suspicions were correct, they intended to use her lantern burning out as an excuse for her disappearance. Then they'd make it look like she ran off because of embarrassment, ensuring that people wouldn't look for her until it was too late. Once they were out, staging a kidnapping on the roads back to the palace and blaming it on bandits would be all too easy.

What should she do? Should she bide her time and feign ignorance, allowing them to believe they held the upper hand? Or should she attempt to escape while she still had the chance?

That right, she no longer had the upper hand. The memory of their last encounter loomed large in her mind. What if they resorted to poison again and caught her off guard?

The room around her seemed to close in, suffocating her with its oppressive silence. She felt a gnawing sense of disappointment twist in the pit of her stomach, a bitter realization settling heavily upon her shoulders.

There would be no rescue, no one coming to her aid.

She was alone.

Suddenly, she found herself longing for Jeontu, the place her father had thought was dangerous but where she had ironically felt the safest. She missed her carefree days in the palace, filled with mischievous pranks on the princess and the maids. She missed sneaking out of her duties to visit Insik and wander around Mt. Kuen.

Here in Shangwei, she hadn't been able to act freely: she was confined, a prisoner of her own caution. She was always on guard, her mind never at ease, constantly watched and scrutinized—though most of it was just Long Dahai's guards. Every move was monitored, and every word was weighed. It was suffocating and stifling.

Should she just let herself get caught and escape afterwards?

No. It would be too sad to be caught in a trap of deceit and betrayal, especially when her father is still in Shangwei. He mustn't know. I can't let him worry about me any more.

With renewed resolve, Han Aeng shot up from her seat and slipped outside through the window.

"What do you think you're doing?" A voice, sharp with irritation, cut through the night, halting her progress.

Han Aeng had heard this voice so often that she was certain she'd know her voice from a crowded festival.

"Taking a walk."

"A walk? At this hour?" Mei Fubai's eyes were sharp, scrutinizing her every move. The maids accompanying her lowered their heads, retreating slightly.

Han Aeng tilted her head slightly, "Is that a problem?"

"Yes, it is. You shouldn't be wandering around."

Han Aeng couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "That's rich coming from you. Aren't you wandering around as well?"

Mei Fubai's lips tightened in annoyance, but she didn't respond.

"At least I'm walking around my room," Han Aeng continued, her voice steady. "What about you? You don't stay here."

Mei Fubai scoffed, her gaze narrowing. "Don't pretend you belong here. You're nothing but a pawn in their political games."

Han Aeng's expression remained pleasant. "Perhaps. But even pawns have their role to play."

Mei Fubai's facade of confidence faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "And what role do you think that is?"

Han Aeng flashed a sly smile and shrugged her shoulders. "The role of a silent observer, perhaps. Or maybe something more."

Suddenly, someone stumbled nearby, the noise disrupted their conversation.

In the heat of the moment, Mei Fubai yelled, "Who's there? Can't you see we're in the middle of something here?"

A timid priest stepped into the moonlight, stammering, "My-my apologies, my lady. I was just conducting my night check. I-if you two could kindly return to your rooms, that would be—"

"Did you not hear me?" Mei Fubai interrupted, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous intent. "We're in the middle of something. Leave."

For once, Han Aeng was impressed with Mei Fubai.

The priest looked hesitant but eventually withdrew, casting glances over his shoulder every few steps before rushing off. I knew that little priest was suspicious.

Turning her attention back to Mei Fubai, Han Aeng found herself studying the other woman with renewed interest before resuming their heated exchanges.

Mei Fubai's attendants seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, only to be rudely awakened whenever Mei Fubai's voice pierced the air with heightened intensity. Hours seemed to pass in this verbal sparring until the first light of dawn began to creep into the sky.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly with the arrival of Ruyi and Nanny Na, their hurried footsteps punctuating the tension, bringing a sense of urgency to the proceedings.

"Wangfei, it's time we began preparing for the trip back to the palace," Ruyi said, her tone respectful yet firm. "Nubi, kindly ask Miss Mei to make her preparations as well."

"Young Miss, we should make haste as well," Mei Fubai's maid chimed in, her tone laced with concern.

Han Aeng smiled and waved at Mei Fubai, "It was lovely staying up to chat with you. Let's do this again."

Muttering an incoherent sentence, Mei Fubai stormed off.

As they entered the room, Nanny Na's worry exploded. "Do you have any idea how worried I was when I didn't see you in your room?!" she scolded, her voice sharp as she delivered a swift slap to Han Aeng's arm.

Ruyi's eyes widened in astonishment, momentarily taken aback by Nanny Na's brazenness. Nanny Na might be close to Wangfei, but was it right to treat a noble lady so casually?

She stole a glance at her mistress, expecting indignation, but to her surprise, found Han Aeng merely smiled, clearly pleased with herself.

"You know what," Han Aeng said with a light laugh, "It's not that bad spending time with Fubai."