Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 93: Rupture

   Between adults, there is no such thing as selfless giving.

   Every act of giving is made in expectation of return.

   “With Her Majesty the Empress unconscious and unable to speak, the only two people whose words carry weight in the rear palace right now are you and her.” Yuhu thought for a moment and said, “This time, rather than saying she did you a favor, it would be more accurate to say… she now has a leash on you.”

Consort Chun sighed. “Exactly. I only have myself to blame for being too impatient and handing her such a huge bargaining chip.”

Yuhu looked at her with pity: “Your Ladyship, she was merely a servant from the Cleansing Division. Why go to such great lengths to deal with her?”

“To you, Wei Yingluo is just a servant from the Cleansing Division.” Consort Chun’s smile was dazed and distant. “But to Fuheng… she is not…”

Though she possessed peerless beauty, in the eyes of most people Consort Chun had very little presence. She always stayed quietly by the Empress’s side, like a shadow. Whatever the Empress approved of, she approved of; whatever the Empress opposed, she opposed as well.

   She was always giving to the Empress, never asking for anything in return.

   Even after the Empress fell into a coma, she continued to diligently guard Changchun Palace on her behalf.

   “Consort Chun is truly a saint.”

That was how some people privately described her.

No, she was no saint.

A saint would not have done what she did a few days earlier—upon receiving the news, rushing in a panic to find Fuheng and demand: “Fuheng, the Imperial Guard—why are you marrying Erqing?”

Fuheng was momentarily stunned before replying, “It is His Majesty’s decree.”

“No!” Consort Chun cut straight through. “You agreed to this marriage only to save Wei Yingluo, to clear her name! Fuheng, have you lost your mind? Is a lowly Cleansing Division slave worth all this from you?”

Fuheng’s expression instantly turned cold. “This is my personal affair. There is no need for Your Ladyship to concern yourself.”

“How can you speak to me like that?” Consort Chun, frantic, reached to grasp his hand. “You know very well that I…”

Fuheng hurriedly stepped back to avoid her touch. “Your Ladyship, please conduct yourself with propriety.”

“Conduct myself with propriety?” Consort Chun froze, her face filled with indescribable desolation. “You never used to speak to me this way…”

Used to? Fuheng had no memory of any past between them, any entanglement. He took another step back, maintaining a safe distance between man and woman, and said with faint wariness: “Consort Chun, please be careful with your words. Though you are my elder sister’s close friend, there are proprieties between men and women. I and Your Ladyship have never been close…”

His words came from good intentions—a gentle reminder for her to watch her speech. Otherwise, if others overheard, misunderstandings would surely arise.

Unexpectedly, this kind intention, when it reached Consort Chun’s ears, caused her face to turn deathly pale in an instant.

“Never been close…” Consort Chun swayed unsteadily for a moment, then her gaze suddenly dropped to the tassel hanging at his waist. “If you have no place for me in your heart, why do you still wear the tassel I wove with my own hands?”

Fuheng was stunned. His eyes followed hers downward. At his waist hung a jade pendant he had worn since childhood, and the tassel attached to it was already quite old and worn. Frowning slightly, Fuheng said, “Wasn’t this given to me by my sister?”

“How could it be from your sister?” Consort Chun hurriedly replied. “It was me… That day you weren’t there, and your military book was left on the stone table in the courtyard. I slipped the tassel inside it…”

Her voice abruptly stopped.

Right before her eyes, Fuheng reached down, yanked the tassel off, and placed it on the corridor chair beside him. His tone was calm and indifferent: “So that’s how it was. I misunderstood and thought it was something my sister made, so I kept wearing it all this time. Today I return it to its rightful owner. Your Ladyship, I take my leave.”

The memory ended there.

“Your Ladyship…” Yuhu looked at her cautiously. “Are you… alright?”

Consort Chun slowly opened her eyes, tears blurring her vision. She drew an old, faded tassel from her bosom and held it out for Yuhu to see: “Yuhu, do you still remember this?”

Yuhu’s face changed the moment she saw it.

“I was afraid he would accept the tassel without knowing who sent it or what the giver’s feelings were, so I had you deliver a letter to him.” Consort Chun stared at her. “That letter… did you deliver it?”

Yuhu hesitated for a moment, then suddenly knelt down before her.

The answer was obvious. Consort Chun’s shoulders began to tremble. Suddenly she raised her hand and slapped Yuhu across the face: “Fine, fine! So this is how you serve me—you’ve caused me such misery!”

“Your Ladyship!” Yuhu covered her face and sobbed. “This servant did it for your own good!”

“For my own good?” Consort Chun let out a bitter laugh; tears streamed down both cheeks. “All this time I believed that since he accepted the tassel, he must have feelings for me! I thought he only acted distant because I had entered Prince Bao’s household and become a mistress in the mansion. But in truth… that letter confessing my feelings never reached his hands! For my own good… you still dare to say it was for my own good?”

“Your Ladyship, the master said long ago that you were to be offered to Prince Bao—you were destined to enter the prince’s mansion!” Yuhu cried miserably. “If that letter had really been delivered, it would have completely ruined you and destroyed the entire Su family!”

“In the end, it was still for the sake of the Su family.” Consort Chun smiled self-mockingly. “So you just stood by and watched me sink deeper and deeper, lying to myself over and over, until in front of him I lost even the last shred of my dignity!”

Yuhu had been born into servitude in the Su household; her parents and siblings all worked for the Su family, so naturally her loyalty lay with the family. But she could never admit that outright—otherwise how could she ever face Consort Chun again? She hurriedly defended herself: “Your Ladyship, you were infatuated with Fucha Fuheng and resisted entering the mansion with all your might—even threatening death! It was only after you learned that the eldest young lady Fucha was to become the Fujin that you finally agreed to enter the household! You said you would take her place in guarding and protecting her for Fuheng! This servant saw you finally pull yourself together—how could I bear to tell you the truth?”

Hearing this, Consort Chun began to laugh—laughing at her own infatuation, at the absurdity of half her life.

“I only wished that your heart would be like mine, and that I would never be disappointed in my longing…” I saw him always wearing that tassel and thought he harbored at least a little affection for me. I didn’t ask for much—just that he keep wearing that tassel at his waist. For that alone I was willing to give everything: to be a shadow for his sister, to protect her, even to avoid favor deliberately. And in the end, what did I get?” Consort Chun wept. “He said, ‘You and I have never been close…’”

All her devotion had been one-sided.

Her deep affection had become nothing more than a joke.

“A pure heart like ice in a Yuhu.” Yuhu crawled closer and gently tugged at the hem of her skirt. “You gave this servant that name yourself. A servant’s name can be changed easily, but Your Ladyship—this pure heart of yours has never been cherished by anyone. It is my fault that I kept you in the dark for ten whole years. Now… it’s time for you to wake up.”

Consort Chun remained silent for a long while.

In the rhombus-shaped mirror was reflected her profile. In terms of beauty, she was hardly inferior to Noble Consort Hui. Like spring orchids and autumn chrysanthemums, like Yang Guifei or Zhao Feiyan—Consort Chun’s beauty lay in her fragile, pitiable air: like Xi Shi clutching her heart in pain, or Daiyu burying flowers. She inspired pity in men at first sight; they couldn’t help wanting to reach out, smooth away her furrowed brows, and coax a single smile from her.

That was why, even though she deliberately avoided favor, she still attained the rank of consort.

“What if a person like her were willing to deliberately compete for favor?”

“I was originally the Empress’s person, but now… I can only break off with her.” Consort Chun sighed in front of the mirror. “After so many years of devotion, I can’t possibly receive not even the slightest reward, can I?”

With that, she turned back to Yuhu and smiled—her heart had turned to ashes, yet a faint spark of hatred reignited in it: “…Presumably, this is exactly what Noble Consort Xian wanted.”

Sisters of yesterday had become enemies in the blink of an eye.

   Love for so many years meant hatred for just as many.

   “No… no… NO!”

Inside Changchun Palace, a sharp scream erupted from the sleeping chamber.

Footsteps rushed in chaos. A group of palace servants burst through the door. Leading them was the senior palace maid Ming Yu, still holding a basin of water in her hands. When she saw the scene inside the room, she let out a cry—the basin slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor. Overcome with joy and shock, her words tumbled out incoherently:

“Your Lady… Niangniang is awake! Someone! Someone come—Niangniang is awake! Wait—Niangniang, what are you doing?”

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