Oops! The Black Lotus Can’t Be a Female Supporting Character

CHAPTER 58

Princess Ningshu gave a delicate little huff.

She wasn’t angry about fame. That had never crossed her mind. At first, she had only casually mentioned the idea to her mother, who told her that such move would attract too much attention and had to be reported to the empress.

So she had gone to the empress, brimming with excitement—only to be doused in a bucket of cold water.

Clinging to Xiao Yanfei’s arm, she pouted and complained in a sweet, coquettish voice:

“Yanyan, do you know what the empress said? She scolded me! Said I was fickle and always trying to make a spectacle of myself.”

“She told me relief work and resettling refugees were for His Majesty and the ministers to worry about, and that I had no business meddling.”

“Then she said if I really had time to spare, I should stay home, practice embroidery, and copy the Instructions for Women, so my mother wouldn’t have to worry over me.”

The empress had been so stern, her reprimand left Princess Ningshu dazed and doubting herself—wondering if she really had been too reckless.

But only a few days later, her mother mentioned that Liu Chaoyun had sent invitations across the capital to raise funds and help the refugees.

Princess Ningshu nearly exploded. She had a whole storm of curses stuck in her throat.

“The empress is shameless!” Xiao Yanfei soothed, smoothing down her ruffled feathers.

Princess Ningshu nestled against her shoulder, rubbing once, then twice, grumbling softly, “Yanyan, you and Yueyue are the only good ones. I’ll just play with you two from now on.”

She happily pulled out her little purse to show Xiao Yanfei. “Look, Yueyue gave me three hundred taels in silver notes. She saved them up from her allowance. Such a pity she couldn’t come.”

Princess Ningshu had wanted to invite Gu Yue along, but Gu Yue explained that the Duke of Wei had told her not to go out these days.

She had put it delicately, but Princess Ningshu could guess the real reason: the Duke of Wei’s household held a precarious position in court, and every move they made was scrutinized. It wasn’t wise to draw attention.

“We’ll visit her at the ducal estate next time,” Xiao Yanfei coaxed.

Princess Ningshu’s eyes lit up at once. She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes! We can ride horses at the training grounds! The yard is huge—you can gallop as fast as you want!”

As they chattered, the carriage slowed. Old Li, the driver, called out, “Your Highness, we’ve arrived at Huangjue Temple.”

The temple was ideally situated—peaceful amid the bustle. An entire street lined with lush bodhi trees gave it an air of timeless solemnity.

The princess’s carriage was ornate and luxurious. Its arrival drew many curious glances, though no one dared approach.

Xiao Yanfei’s eyes swept over the entrance.

Clusters of refugees were huddled by the yellow temple walls, sitting, lying, leaning against the bricks. All of them were gaunt and ragged.

Zhiqiu murmured, “Huangjue Temple distributes porridge twice a day. They must be waiting for that.”

“That’s right.” Princess Ningshu linked her arm with Yanfei’s and pulled her toward the gate. “Huangjue, Yongfu, Baiyun—these temples have been giving out porridge every day. That’s why I thought it better to donate to them. Saves me the trouble of running things myself.”

“Anyway, I’m not doing this for recognition. No need to make a grand show of it.”

“Open your mouth.” Hearing the irritation creeping back into her tone, Xiao Yanfei popped a piece of candy into her mouth, then slipped one into her own as well.

The cool sweetness instantly melted Princess Ningshu’s anger away.

Eh?

What a curious taste.

Sour, sweet, refreshing.

As the minty chill surged through her mouth and up to her crown, her whole head tingled, her lips puckering in delight.

“I made those—mint candies!” Xiao Yanfei said proudly. “Good, aren’t they?”

Perfect for summer.

“They’re delicious!” Princess Ningshu’s eyes narrowed into crescents, her face lit with sheer bliss.

“Take the whole pouch.” Xiao Yanfei stuffed the bag into her hands.

“Yanyan, you’re the best!” Princess Ningshu beamed and tucked the pouch safely into her sleeve.

Inside Huangjue Temple was like stepping into another world—quiet and serene, as though untouched by the turmoil outside.

Princess Ningshu was a frequent visitor. As soon as she arrived, a young novice monk of six or seven ran up, smiling brightly. “Princess.”

Glancing at the common folk filtering in and out, Princess Ningshu asked casually, “Is Master Jue Ming giving a sermon today?”

Huangjue Temple was the imperial temple, its worshippers mostly officials’ families. Commoners were only allowed inside on the first and fifteenth of the month, or when the abbot and senior monks lectured, to spread the Dharma.

“Yes, the abbot is preaching in the main hall. It should be ending about now.” The boy bowed. “Princess, honored lady, please this way.”

He led them eastward.

His timing was exact—by the time they passed through a grove of jade-inlaid bamboo and reached the great hall, the sermon had just ended.

Worshippers streamed out in small groups, chatting animatedly.

Some praised the abbot’s profound teaching. Others spoke admiringly of the monks’ charity toward the refugees. Still others sighed, “Alas, what are Huangjue and Yongfu Temples compared to the need? It’s a mere drop in the ocean.”

Hearing this, Xiao Yanfei looked over. Among the throng, four or five scholars in plain robes stood out, their scholarly air marking them apart.

A young man in blue said gravely, “Indeed. Only the government can properly resettle the refugees.”

“Only when they have homes and livelihoods will they not fall from commoners into bandits,” another, dressed in brown, added with sober earnestness.

The students debated back and forth. Princess Ningshu, rolling her eyes, leaned close to Xiao Yanfei and whispered, “All just empty talk… Who doesn’t know that already?”

The problem was in the details. Housing the refugees, feeding them, giving them work—none of that could be solved with a few lofty phrases. And the numbers only grew by the day. Even if these were settled, what about the next wave?

Xiao Yanfei raised a brow. “Why are there so many scholars today?”

The novice monk explained with a grin, “They heard of our temple’s stele forest and came to make rubbings.”

“Our collection is famous, you know!”

Huangjue’s forest of steles held inscriptions from calligraphy masters of both past and present dynasties. It was a pilgrimage site for literati.

Just then, the abbot Jue Ming himself spotted Princess Ningshu. Smiling, he came forward. “It has been some time, Princess. Shall we play a game of go today?”

“No, no.” Princess Ningshu waved her hand, then leaned toward Xiao Yanfei and whispered, “He’s just a chess addict.”

“Master Jue Ming, we’re here today to bring you some money. The three of us—me, Xiao Yanfei, and Miss Gu—pooled together some silver for you.”

Princess Ningshu didn’t bother with pleasantries. She got straight to the point and handed Master Jue Ming all the silver notes they had raised—two thousand taels.

She grinned broadly. “Use it to provide porridge for the refugees.”

“The Princess is truly compassionate.” With prayer beads in one hand, Master Jue Ming pressed his palms together and bowed to Princess Ningshu and Xiao Yanfei. Then he turned to a young novice monk. “Remember their names—the Princess, this benefactress, and Miss Gu—and light an eternal lamp for each of them in the temple.”

Princess Ningshu tugged at Xiao Yanfei’s sleeve and gave her a look that said: See? Didn’t I tell you? This old monk is all show.

Xiao Yanfei barely managed to keep a straight face, almost breaking into laughter.

Of course, Master Jue Ming noticed the exchange between the two girls but pretended not to. With a gentle smile, he said, “Your Highness, we are in urgent need of medicinal herbs. Might we use part of this donation to purchase some?”

“Master,” Xiao Yanfei’s heart stirred, “what illnesses are the refugees suffering from?”

She was recalling the people she’d just seen outside—faces sallow and emaciated, some little more than skin and bones.

They were clearly malnourished, their immune systems weakened. With June fast approaching and the heat rising, they were especially vulnerable to illness—heatstroke, bacterial enteritis, even malaria. And malaria was not only contagious but often fatal.

Master Jue Ming’s brows furrowed. “These past few days, many women, children, and elderly collapsed outside in the sun. Mostly heatstroke. Luckily, some of our monks know a bit of medicine…”

“Abbot! Abbot!”

From a distance, a young monk in green robes came running, breathless, too flustered to even bow. He leaned close and whispered urgently in Master Jue Ming’s ear.

The master’s expression changed at once, and he forgot the words he had been about to say.

He turned back, bowed apologetically to Princess Ningshu, and said, “Your Highness, a most distinguished guest has arrived. Forgive this old monk for neglecting you and your companion.”

“A distinguished guest?” The little princess pouted and muttered to him without ceremony, “How distinguished? Can they be more important than me?”

She and Master Jue Ming were old acquaintances. Her father, Prince Yi, often came to Huángjué Temple to play chess with the abbot. As a child, she’d often accompanied him, so Master Jue Ming had practically watched her grow up.

Perhaps because of that, he only hesitated a moment before whispering, “It is the Empress.”

With a hurried bow, he quickly followed the young monk toward the main gates.

“The Empress?!” Princess Ningshu’s face froze. She muttered under her breath to Xiao Yanfei, “What rotten luck.”

Truly cursed—everywhere she went, she ran into that woman surnamed Liu.

“Indeed,” Xiao Yanfei nodded gravely. It was rotten luck.

Remembering how the Empress had scolded her last time, Princess Ningshu felt her mood sour again. She lowered her voice to a whisper: “Doesn’t she have a palace to stay in? Must she always be running about? How annoying.”

“Looks like we’re stuck.”

Whether the Empress was traveling incognito or not, once she arrived, the temple would be sealed. No one could leave until she departed.

“Come on!” Princess Ningshu grabbed Xiao Yanfei’s hand and hurried her out of the hall. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

She had no desire to greet the Empress—why go looking for a scolding? The Empress was notorious for playing favorites, always blindly defending Liu Chaoyun.

As they stepped outside, they saw the temple grounds already in commotion. Pilgrims were gathering in clusters, whispering excitedly among themselves.

Xiao Yanfei’s gaze swept past the golden bamboo grove and toward the main gates.

Sure enough—

The three crimson temple gates had been shut tight. Dozens of tall, imposing guards in sapphire-blue robes, long blades at their waists, were posted in formation. Some stood guard, others patrolled, and more were driving back the crowd, lining the path from the gates to the main hall with soldiers spaced every ten steps.

The pilgrims weren’t driven away. In fact, more and more streamed toward the commotion.

Instead of resenting being locked inside, many actually seemed thrilled at their luck.

A plump, round-faced woman in her forties exclaimed excitedly to her mother, “I saw Her Majesty when I first entered the temple! They say she’s here to pray for the disaster victims. Not only is she kind, but such a beauty as well!”

“You’re so fortunate to have glimpsed her in person!” another nearby woman said enviously.

But the older, frail woman being addressed as “Mother” merely gave a dismissive sniff. With calm disdain, she brushed at her sleeve. “You’re too easily impressed. Clearly, you’ve never seen the late Empress.”

“She was the true beauty—radiant as the blazing sun.”

Her face softened with memory. “I still recall when the old Duke Guo returned to the capital with captives, and the late Empress rode beside him, clad in bright red riding attire. She was breathtaking—unparalleled in all the world. A sight one never forgets.”

“Back then, people showered her with flowers as she passed. Even the triumphant parade of a top-ranked scholar couldn’t compare.”

Before they knew it, everyone nearby had fallen silent, listening in awe to her recollections.

Princess Ningshu, too, was spellbound. She sighed, “My mother consort also said the late Empress was stunning.”

“Not like this Empress Liu—so delicate she needs help just to walk.” Princess Ningshu wrinkled her nose, whispering into Xiao Yanfei’s ear.

“The Empress is here!”

Someone in the crowd gasped, and instantly every gaze turned toward the gates.

The weather was perfect that day. Golden sunlight streamed down in brilliance.

Wearing a nine-dragon, four-phoenix crown, Empress Liu moved gracefully toward the main hall, her ornate headpiece glittering under the sun, drawing every eye.

From afar, Xiao Yanfei recognized several familiar figures following behind her—Crown Prince Tang Yueze, Princess Bao’an, and others she didn’t know.

“Yanyan, that’s Sister Ming Rui,” Princess Ningshu whispered, tugging her sleeve and pointing toward the young woman walking beside Princess Bao’an.

She couldn’t have been older than eighteen—tall, slim, dressed in a somber cinnabar jacket embroidered with the Eight Immortals, and a dark skirt. Head lowered, she walked quietly, each step measured as though taken with a ruler.

She seemed calm, elegant, proper… but lifeless, like a doll.

Princess Ningshu gazed at Ming Rui, a faint sorrow clouding her expression. In a low voice, she murmured, “She wasn’t always like this…”

With a soft sigh, she leaned closer to Xiao Yanfei and whispered, “Sister Ming Rui once had a fiancé—the military champion of three years ago, Han Jingyu. But he died in battle at Lanshan City… they say the enemy even had him torn apart by five horses…”

Her voice grew quieter and quieter, until the end of her words was lost to the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Wherever Empress Liu passed, silence followed. The air stilled, voices vanished, and all eyes burned with reverence, tracking her every movement until she and her retinue entered the main hall with Master Jue Ming.

Inside, monks had already set out rows of meditation cushions.

The Empress moved to the front and was the first to kneel. Behind her, the Crown Prince, Princess Bao’an, and the others knelt in turn.

Pressing her palms together, Empress Liu lifted her gaze to the towering golden Buddha statue, her face serene with devotion as she intoned slowly:

“Before the Blessed One, I, a humble believer, offer my prayers. May the Buddha safeguard Great Jing, granting our realm prosperity, and protect our people with peace and harmony.

“If my wish is fulfilled, I vow to commission a new golden statue of the Buddha!”

After her solemn prayer, she rose from the cushion, approached the altar, and placed incense into the burner.

One by one, those in her entourage followed suit, bowing with reverent sincerity.

“Āmitābha.” Master Jue Ming’s voice rang out, calm and resonant. “Your Majesty’s compassion moves heaven and earth. On behalf of the people of Great Jing, this old monk thanks you. The Buddha will surely grant your wish.”

His words clearly pleased the Empress. The corners of her crimson lips curved ever so slightly.

“When will the temple distribute porridge?” she asked. “This palace wishes to ladle a pot myself, to share in the merit.”

Her words were grand and gracious, though everyone knew she would never truly cook porridge—at most she would stir a ladle or two and call it her own.

Master Jue Ming, looking deeply moved, bowed again. “On behalf of the refugees, this humble monk thanks Your Majesty for your boundless grace. The temple will begin distribution within the half-hour.”

He then escorted the Empress out of the hall.

She walked with a composed, gentle smile, her gaze drifting casually over those present until it fell upon Liu Chaoyun, standing beneath a nearby bodhi tree in a crimson gown, surrounded by seven or eight eager students, their faces alight with admiration.

Satisfied, the Empress inclined her head and bestowed a faintly encouraging smile. Just as she was about to look away, her eyes caught Princess Ningshu and Xiao Yanfei, heads bent together, whispering and laughing until their shoulders shook.

Foolish little girls. Displeasure flickered in her eyes, though her face remained serene and regal as she continued forward with Master Jue Ming.

They reached the largest, lushest bodhi tree when a clear, feminine voice suddenly rang out:

“Your Majesty the Empress!”

The call drew every gaze at once—even the students turned to look.

Liu Chaoyun and Xiao Luanfei stepped from the crowd. Under the scrutiny of all, they approached the Empress, lifted their skirts in a graceful curtsey, and knelt to the ground, no more than four steps away.

At once, the Empress and the two kneeling girls became the center of every eye.

“Oh!” Princess Ningshu’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Xiao Yanfei’s sleeve and whispered, “Now what drama is this?!”

“Either fame or fortune,” Xiao Yanfei whispered back, echoing her tone.

They exchanged a knowing glance and shared a smile, eyes gleaming.

At the forefront, Liu Chaoyun raised her delicate face, the tiny cinnabar mole between her brows vivid against her features, lending her an air of poise.

With righteous fervor, she declared, “Your Majesty, this humble daughter has learned that thousands of refugees have gathered outside the capital. Forced from their homes, they are truly pitiful. Moved by their plight, I have gathered nine thousand taels of silver over the past few days. I offer it all to the court, for the relief of these poor souls.

“I beg Your Majesty to accept this token of my heart.”

With that, she bowed low, her forehead pressed to the ground.

Her words fell like a stone into still water, sending ripples of astonishment through the temple. Gasps rose from pilgrims and students alike.

Nine thousand taels! For one so young—barely past her coming of age—to act with such boldness and compassion was extraordinary. With such a sum, countless lives could be saved.

The Empress, sensing the admiring eyes around her, smiled benevolently. “Such virtue. Truly, this is a deed of great benevolence!”

“If all shared your heart, child, how could our refugees ever fear neglect?”

Her voice rang out clear and resolute, echoing through the hall.

Stirred, many in the crowd nodded fervently, their spirits aflame.

One student cried out, “Her Majesty speaks true! If each of us offered even a bowl of rice or a cup of water, what need would the refugees have to suffer?”

Others echoed his words, one after another.

The Empress’s smile deepened, though her eyes turned cold.

They condemned the Liu family over a trifling mistake—though even the Emperor himself said nothing. They hounded Lord Cheng’en, accused him of delaying military affairs, demanded he be punished for the Youzhou rebellion. They even clamored to impeach him in memorials!

But today, before all these witnesses, our Liu family gives nine thousand taels to the poor. Word of this will spread. The people will praise us for our compassion. They will say the Liu family is righteous and magnanimous!

She parted her lips, ready to speak further, when suddenly Xiao Luanfei, kneeling beside Liu Chaoyun, spoke up:

“Your Majesty, I too wish to donate—all fifty thousand taels in my possession—to the court, for disaster relief.”

Her tone was calm, neither loud nor soft, yet in the hushed space it was as clear as a mountain spring.

A stunned silence fell.

Not only the Empress but even Liu Chaoyun herself lifted her head in shock, her forehead smeared with dust, eyes wide with disbelief.

What did you just say, Xiao Luanfei?!

But Xiao Luanfei’s composure did not waver.

“Your Majesty,” she said steadily, “we, the daughters of noble families, have lived in luxury all our lives, sheltered by the court. ‘To eat the ruler’s grain is to share the ruler’s burdens.’ It is only right that we now shoulder the hardships of the realm.”

“I wish only for the people of Great Jing to know peace and happiness.”

Her words rang with conviction, her gaze radiant and piercing.

All eyes were fixed upon her. In plain moon-white robes, nearly unadorned, with not a trace of gold or jade, her hair bound simply with a bamboo pin, she stood in stark contrast to Liu Chaoyun’s crimson finery and glittering jewels.

Though she never said where the fifty thousand taels came from, no one could help but imagine: she must have sold her silks, her jewelry, even all her savings to raise such a sum.

Suddenly, from within the crowd, a voice rang out, loud and fervent:

“This is true virtue!”

The four words soared like a dragon’s roar, piercing the heavens. The student who spoke struck his palms together with force, and at once others followed suit, clapping in unison. Applause surged like a rising tide, wave after wave without end.

Empress Liu’s face darkened, as though a storm cloud had descended upon her brow.

From the crowd, Xiao Yanfei burst into peals of laughter.

The Empress had swallowed her pride to steal Princess Ningshu’s credit and hand it to her own niece.

But before the glory had even settled, Xiao Luanfei swooped in and snatched it away!

Now that was truly a blow.

***