This emperor has poor judgment.

Grace Baker only glanced twice before looking away. Beside her, Violet Morgan had already dropped to one knee and tugged at her, urging her to kneel as well.

Grace Baker was clearly reluctant, her modern mindset still struggling against feudal reality. Just then, Lady Mildred strode over in two or three steps and, without a word, raised her hand and slapped Violet Morgan hard across the face.

The crisp sound of the slap left Grace Baker stunned.

But Violet Morgan endured it, not only taking the blow but also repeatedly kowtowing to Lady Mildred, begging her for forgiveness.

Grace Baker was, after all, a princess. Even if she wasn’t favored, she was still of royal blood. No matter how angry Lady Mildred was, she didn’t dare lay a hand on her, so she vented all her anger on Violet Morgan. Afterward, looking at the young and already so beautiful little girl before her, she said with disgust, “Go inside and kneel by the Third Princess’s bed to kowtow and apologize!”

From the moment she entered, Grace Baker had been dazed. Lady Mildred had also heard from the Imperial Medical Bureau that she’d had a fever ever since falling into the water yesterday, so it was impossible for her to have appeared at Ethan Baker’s door.

But the harem is an unreasonable place. Now that her fever had subsided, while her own daughter was still burning up and talking nonsense, it was clear she couldn’t be entirely blameless.

Lady Mildred was gnashing her teeth in hatred when she suddenly saw the previously dazed little girl’s face twist into an expression of extreme terror. Her pupils dilated, sweat beaded on her forehead, and she stared fixedly at the doorway to Ethan Baker’s room.

Then, with a wail, she burst into tears and hid behind Violet Morgan.

Crying, she said, “That person is so scary, there’s water grass hanging from them, and… they’re dripping water! Wuwuwu, Mother Consort, I’m scared.”

Lady Mildred: “!!!”

Palace maid: “!!!”

A child’s expression can’t be faked. Lady Mildred’s face instantly turned pale. She glanced at the empty doorway, and her previously arrogant voice now trembled, “What did you see? What else?! Is it still there now?”

Grace Baker, sobbing, replied, “Now it’s gone into Third Sister’s room.”

Still lying in bed, Ethan Baker heard this and immediately let out a howl and fainted.

Chaos erupted in Zhaoyang Palace.

In this era that believes in ghosts and spirits, no one dares take such things lightly.

Didn’t Ethan Baker say she kept seeing the Fifth Princess standing at the door? Fine, you saw her, I saw her too. Whether it’s the Fifth Princess or not is hard to say, but there’s definitely a water ghost staring at you from the doorway.

As luck would have it, a few years ago, two palace maids really did drown in the pond at Linxing Pavilion, and the incident was somewhat related to Lady Mildred. Remembering this, Lady Mildred was even more convinced, and no longer cared about Violet Morgan.

By the time they left Zhaoyang Palace, half of Violet Morgan’s face was swollen, looking painful, though she didn’t seem to feel it. She just held Grace Baker’s small, soft hand, and said worriedly to Lillian Reed, “Lu’er has encountered something unclean. Prepare some offerings when you get back.”

Grace Baker idly watched the flowers crawling along both sides of the path.

She’d always had a problem where holding her breath made her sweat. She thought switching bodies would fix it, but after trying just now, it was still there—so she just improvised a little, and her opponent was too easy to fool.

Soon, the whole harem knew about the haunting at Lady Mildred’s Zhaoyang Palace. They said the Third Princess Ethan Baker had provoked something unclean while playing at Linxing Pavilion, and the Fifth Princess Grace Baker had also had a fever yesterday—both children had seen it.

But every wrong has its source, every debt its debtor. The haunting only followed the Third Princess, so it seemed it was Lady Mildred’s own karma.

After that, fewer people visited Zhaoyang Palace. The consorts who usually associated with Lady Mildred stopped coming. The Empress mentioned the matter to the Emperor; though he was the Son of Heaven, such things were best avoided, so it was better not to summon Lady Mildred for now.

The Emperor agreed. After all, with three thousand beauties in the harem, he wouldn’t miss one. Fearing he might forget, he even had Lady Mildred’s nameplate removed.

As expected, the Emperor later forgot all about it.

And so, he also forgot to restore Lady Mildred’s nameplate.

Thus, Lady Mildred fell out of favor.

Of course, that’s all in the future. For now, Zhaoyang Palace was still in chaos, inviting eminent monks to exorcise evil spirits. Violet Morgan had also been badly frightened, and as soon as she returned to Mingyue Palace, she pulled Grace Baker over to start making offerings.

She herself didn’t take it to heart, but to put Violet Morgan at ease, she cooperated quite well.

The side hall was busy when suddenly another argument broke out outside. Violet Morgan only listened for a moment before she seemed to understand what was happening. With a helpless expression, she whispered to Grace Baker, “Lu’er, kneel here until the incense burns out. I’ll be back soon.”

Grace Baker agreed readily, but as soon as Violet Morgan left, she got up and followed.

Outside, Lillian Reed was arguing with Ruby, the chief palace maid of the main hall’s Edward Harris.

Grace Baker listened for a long time before figuring out what was going on.

Every month, the harem consorts receive their allowances—food, charcoal, silver, all distributed according to rank.

The main hall of Mingyue Palace was occupied by Edward Harris, whose rank was above Violet Morgan. The share allocated to Mingyue Palace by the Household Department was always claimed by her, but the portion belonging to Lady Violet would be withheld by half.

Today was allowance day again. Lillian Reed, worried they’d be beaten to it, went early to the Household Department to wait. But the people there kept making excuses and told her to queue up.