Mu Wanwan had originally thought Ao Qin might just be deceiving her. But when Fuliu brought her back to the sleeping palace early while she clutched her aching chest, and she saw the two boxes placed in the courtyard, she was still a little surprised.
“Madam truly has good fortune. This box contains spiritual medicine, and the other contains spiritual fruits and spiritual rice.”
Fuliu looked at Mu Wanwan’s pale, frail face with disgust. Very unwillingly, she took a small pouch out of her pocket and handed it to Mu Wanwan.
“Madam, please stay in this courtyard and properly take care of His Majesty. In the future, if you’re lacking anything, make a note of it first. Once every ten days, you may go to the market,” Fuliu said. “Your monthly allowance is one mid-grade spirit stone and three silver coins, collected in the middle of the month. As for meals and such, from now on, Madam will have to trouble yourself to prepare them.”
Fuliu said, “I hope Madam will take good care of His Majesty. I’ll take my leave first.”
After Fuliu left, the courtyard quietened down.
Mu Wanwan weighed the little pouch in her hand. It had some weight to it. When she opened it and looked inside, she nearly laughed from anger.
Inside were not mid-grade spirit stones rich in spiritual power, but ten low-grade spirit stones.
In the original owner’s memories, if one mid-grade spirit stone were exchanged outside, it could at least be exchanged for fifteen low-grade spirit stones. There were only ten pieces here. If Fuliu hadn’t embezzled the rest, Mu Wanwan would cut off her own head and kick it like a ball.
Mu Wanwan only felt a wave of irritation. Anger pressed against her chest, and a sweet, bloody taste rose in her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand, then opened her palm again. Scattered specks of blood covered it.
“Haa.”
Don’t get angry. Don’t get angry. Getting angry is useless.
Mu Wanwan took a deep breath and tried hard to calm herself down. Then she continued looking through the pouch. Apart from the ten low-grade spirit stones, there were only three silver coins.
This monthly allowance was truly small.
In the original owner’s memories, the exchange rate between mid-grade and low-grade spirit stones was roughly one to eighteen. If exchanged on the black market, the price could be even higher. A single low-grade spirit stone could usually be exchanged for one gold coin.
One gold coin could be exchanged for ten silver coins, and one silver coin could be exchanged for ten copper coins. The purchasing power of one copper coin was about the same as one yuan in modern times. Calculated this way, the original monthly allowance was around two thousand yuan. After Fuliu swallowed part of it, there was only a little over one thousand yuan left.
This little over one thousand yuan had to support two people.
Moreover, cultivation required spirit stones. Although the original owner only had a weak wood-type ability, before she married, she still absorbed two or three low-grade spirit stones every month to strengthen the wood-type spiritual energy inside her dantian.
Mu Wanwan was very worried.
Holding onto a thread of hope, she opened the box containing spiritual medicine. Inside, there was only one old ginseng root that was not very old, along with ten yellow fruits that looked wilted at a glance. According to the original owner’s shallow knowledge of plants, this fruit was called the Hundred Treasures Fruit. Judging by its condition, it was second-rank and used to nourish the body. One fruit was probably worth about five low-grade spirit stones.
Aside from that, there were a few small porcelain bottles. Mu Wanwan opened them and sniffed them. They contained medicine for external wounds, but their grade was also very ordinary.
Inside the other box was a bag of spiritual rice and a packet of unknown seeds. There was nothing else.
Mu Wanwan sighed sorrowfully. Looking at the gradually darkening sky, she no longer expected Bai Shuiyao, who was wholeheartedly focused on escaping, to come back and help her work. She moved the two boxes from the courtyard into the room.
Mr. Dragon was still lying paralysed on the bed, in the same position as when she had left him that morning. Because the door had been shut for almost an entire day, the smell in the room had become even worse. But the moment she saw him, Mu Wanwan felt much more at ease.
According to the original plot, she would be stabbed to death by Ao Qin tonight. But now, although she had been suppressed by Ao Qin’s spiritual power, she had only suffered some light injuries. She had also obtained a monthly allowance and spiritual medicine that, although not much, could still be used if she calculated carefully. No matter how she looked at it, it was worth it.
Thinking this, Mu Wanwan’s brows slowly relaxed in front of Mr. Dragon’s strange face, which was covered in black-red lines.
In the original owner’s memories, the tyrant’s sleeping palace was not small. Apart from the main hall used for resting, there was also a side hall with a courtyard. There was a kitchen and a bathroom too, though Mr. Dragon generally did not use them much.
Following her memories, Mu Wanwan found the small kitchen in the side hall. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that there was still a bag of ordinary rice eaten by servants inside, so she mixed in a small handful of spiritual rice and cooked half a pot of congee.
While waiting for the congee, she did not stay idle. She fetched water and wiped clean the other half of the jade bed as well.
By the time she finished everything, Mu Wanwan was so tired she could not even lift her fingers. The sky had completely darkened, and Bai Shuiyao still had not appeared in the sleeping palace. Mu Wanwan did not know whether she had run away according to the original plan or had given up escaping.
But as for what would happen to Bai Shuiyao, she was not worried. In any case, Bai Shuiyao had the female lead’s halo. No matter how much she courted death, she would not die.
Mu Wanwan forced herself to serve the congee. She drank one bowl first. Although there was only a small handful of spiritual rice mixed into it, after drinking it, she felt her stomach become much more comfortable. Warmth spread through her, and she recovered some strength.
She rested for a moment, lit the lamp, then moved a stool over and sat beside the tyrant’s bed with a bowl of congee.
Under the dim yellow light, Mr. Dragon’s frightening face seemed to soften a little.
His complexion was still very pale, and his lips were still pressed together. But perhaps because of that little bit of congee in the morning, they did not look as dry anymore. The bruised purple colour was still there. Mu Wanwan gently pinched his chin and fed him spoonful after spoonful of congee.
She didn’t know whether it was her imagination, but she felt that Mr. Dragon swallowed much faster at night than he had in the morning.
Even so, quite a bit of congee still spilled from his mouth, sliding down his chin in ambiguous wet trails.
Mu Wanwan subconsciously reached out a finger and brushed it across his nicely shaped chin, wiping away the liquid. She muttered to herself, “Good thing you’re asleep. This should count as your embarrassing dark history, right?”
Mu Wanwan did not notice a certain dragon’s eyelashes trembling lightly. As she spoke, she found it a little funny, yet also a little sad. In a low voice, she said, “Speaking of which, I still don’t know your name… How about from now on, I call you Mr. Dragon? We can count as relying on each other now.”
Her eyes were a little red, and her voice was somewhat choked.
“When you wake up in the future, considering that I once treated you well…”
As Mu Wanwan spoke, she could not continue. Embarrassed, she wiped her tears.
“I really am… What am I saying to a vegetative dragon?”
She gathered up her somewhat terrible emotions. Perhaps because the room was too cold and quiet, or perhaps because she was too lonely, she began murmuring again.
“Mr. Dragon, later I’ll treat your wounds and apply some medicine. It’ll probably hurt a lot.”
“Mr. Dragon, we don’t have much money. We might have to go hungry in the future…”
Her voice was very soft. Each and every thing she talked about was their future together. Like scorching, rolling magma, it flowed through his eardrums and little by little stirred into his cold heart, which was covered in thorns.
**Author’s note:**
Mr. Dragon: “I’m awake.”
Mr. Dragon: “I’m not awake.”
Mr. Dragon: “I should be awake.”
Mr. Dragon: “I seem to not be awake.”
Mu Wanwan glanced sideways helplessly. “Are you awake or not?!”
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