A Nobre Consorte Tongjia na Qing穿

June of the twentieth year of the Kangxi reign, summer.

Just as dawn was breaking, the servants of Chengqian Palace placed ice buckets in the four corners of the main hall. Four nimble young maids, each holding a gray-feathered fan with a wooden handle, fanned the air at a leisurely pace two steps away from the ice.

Beneath the copper plates at the center of the fans, eight peacock tail feathers were pressed, wrapped and secured with blue and red silk threads. With every sway of the fans, a touch of brilliance danced across the hall.

The cool air radiating from the ice drifted and wound its way into the tightly closed bed curtains. Before long, the maid waiting outside heard the sound of someone turning over on the bed.

The Noble Consort must have awakened.

When she woke up in the morning, the Noble Consort disliked being surrounded by too many maids, allowing only her close confidantes to attend to her. Puyu signaled the maids beside her to prepare the items the Noble Consort would need shortly, then stepped softly into the inner chamber.

Stepping around the screen, she saw that the Noble Consort was already dressed, sitting there with a dazed expression as she waited for her hair to be done. She was quiet and taciturn, looking just as listless as she had over the past few days, as if she had lost her soul.

The Noble Consort had been ill for about ten days, looking extremely haggard. The imperial physicians could diagnose no specific ailment, only claiming that the sultry weather had caused her loss of appetite.

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