Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 98: Sharing the Same Bed, Different Dreams

Her ear was softly licked, gradually growing hot and tingling. Wei Yingluo struggled desperately, but her hands and feet were pinned down—she couldn’t move at all.

“Your Majesty!” In a flash of inspiration, a fawning smile suddenly bloomed on Wei Yingluo’s face.

“Actually… everything this slave said just now was completely against my true feelings. This slave has long wished to be close to Your Majesty, but with so many beauties in the harem and this slave’s lowly status, there was never an opportunity. So I deliberately provoked you—taking a dangerous gamble! Now that Your Majesty has taken a liking to this slave, I am overjoyed! This slave is willing to serve Your Majesty… however…”

The licking at her earlobe paused. Hongli slowly sat up.

“What do you want to become?”

“This slave…” Wei Yingluo licked her lips, deliberately putting on a greedy expression. “This slave wants to become a Noble Lady. I don’t want to remain a mere palace maid any longer!”

How could Hongli bear to look at her like this?

His expression instantly turned icy cold.

“Your ambition is quite large. So you were waiting here for exactly this!”

Wei Yingluo assumed a soft, alluring demeanor and deliberately drew closer.

“Your Majesty… will you agree…?”

Hongli suddenly reached out and shoved Wei Yingluo off the bed. She let out a yelp and landed in a sorry heap on the floor.

All the desire in his chest was extinguished by her words in an instant. Hongli looked down at her from above, suddenly losing all interest. His face grimed as he said:

“A filthy woman like you is not fit to touch my bed!”

Wei Yingluo’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“Your Majesty!”

Hongli:

“Get out!”

Wei Yingluo quickly stood up and retreated toward the door, trembling.

Hongli:

“Stop!”

Wei Yingluo froze, thinking he had changed his mind again. But before she could put on another ridiculous expression, she heard him say from behind her:

“From this day forward, you are nothing more than an ordinary servant in Changchun Palace. Serve the Empress well. Do not harbor any more delusions. I will never want a woman with ulterior motives!”

“Yes.” Wei Yingluo responded with an appearance of disappointment. Once she stepped out the door, her footsteps quickened. As she walked, she scrubbed hard at the rouge and powder on her face. Suddenly her steps halted. She looked ahead—not far away was Changchun Palace, and approaching it with difficulty, leaning on a cane, was a certain figure.

“Niangniang.” It was Ming Yu’s voice. She supported the person and said, “Why come out personally to meet her in such heavy snow…?”

“I wanted to be the first to see her.” The person smiled, her voice as warm as a spring breeze. “I wanted to tell her… you’re back.”

Tears suddenly filled Wei Yingluo’s eyes. She wiped them away with one hand and ran quickly toward the figure.

“Niangniang, I’m back!”

The Empress turned her head to look at her. A flash of joy passed through her eyes. Leaning on two canes, she hurried toward her—but because she was still unfamiliar with the crutches, after only two steps she stumbled and fell toward the snow.

“Be careful!” Wei Yingluo rushed forward to catch her. Looking at the fallen canes on the ground, tears of sorrow streamed down her face.

“Niangniang… your legs…”

“I’ve been lying in bed for too long.” The Empress said lightly, “But the imperial physician said that as long as I practice diligently, one day I’ll be able to stand again… Even if I can’t stand, don’t I still have you?”

“Yes… yes…” Wei Yingluo choked out through tears, “If you cannot stand, Yingluo is willing to be your crutch for the rest of my life.”

The Empress was momentarily stunned. She suddenly closed her eyes, and tears fell abruptly.

Ming Yu’s eyes also reddened: “Don’t forget me—I want to stay with Her Majesty too!”

Wei Yingluo had once harbored unpleasant feelings toward Ming Yu, leaving a knot of resentment in her heart. Though they had worked side by side serving the Empress, their relationship had never been close. But with those words, all the old grudges vanished in an instant. Holding back tears, Wei Yingluo smiled at her: “Well said. Come—let’s both support Her Majesty back together.”

Snow and wind filled the sky. Wei Yingluo and Ming Yu supported the Empress from left and right. The warmth of their three bodies pressed together felt like spring even in the depths of winter.

Days rose and set, time flew by. The jasmine flowers in Changchun Palace bloomed and fell, fell and bloomed again. In the blink of an eye, spring had arrived.

A line of palace maids entered Chengqian Palace carrying trays.

On the trays were various small delicacies: wind-dried chestnuts, tofu-skin buns, yam cakes, and more. Noble Consort Xian selected a bowl of sugar-steamed milk custard. The bowl had a rim of celadon blue like distant misty mountains, while inside lay a mound of smooth custard as white as snow in the hills.

Yongcheng lay draped across Noble Consort Xian’s lap, staring longingly at the custard in the bowl.

“I heard you visited Changchun Palace a few days ago.” Noble Consort Xian held a long silver spoon, scooping up half a spoonful and feeding it to him. “How was it? Can the Empress walk yet?”

Yongcheng opened his little mouth wide, smacking his lips as he ate. In no time, a ring of milky white circled his mouth. Consort Chun, watching from the side, was lost in thought for a long moment before realizing Noble Consort Xian had been speaking to her. She replied: “There has been some improvement, but without crutches she still cannot walk more than a few steps.”

A palace servant approached and set a tray of snacks on the table beside her: a plate of chestnut cakes, a plate of rose crisps, a plate of yam cakes. Consort Chun picked up a piece of rose crisp. Seeing Yongcheng look at her with eager, hopeful eyes, she tentatively offered it to him. The child snatched it lightning-fast and began nibbling like a little hamster, quickly acquiring another ring of sugar around his mouth.

The way this child ate was extraordinarily cheerful. Watching him, Consort Chun couldn’t help but smile. Then Noble Consort Xian’s laughter suddenly sounded in her ear: “Sister, you are still so young—you should think more about yourself.”

Yongcheng was a considerate little boy. After eating half, he held the remaining half up to Noble Consort Xian’s mouth, mumbling in his childish voice: “Eat… eat…”

“Palace life is lonely. Having an older brother—no, even just a little sister—would make the days much happier.” Noble Consort Xian took a gentle bite from his hand, then let him finish the rest himself. “The moment you wake up each day, you hear a child’s cries and laughter, and the vast palace instantly becomes lively and warm.”

Consort Chun gazed at Yongcheng in a daze.

“I know that in the past, you avoided favor for the sake of the Empress. But times have changed.” Noble Consort Xian sighed. “The Central Palace is empty of heirs, and Her Majesty the Empress…”

Consort Chun frowned: “What about the Empress?”

Noble Consort Xian: “Physician Zhang said that Her Majesty’s body was injured, and bearing children will be difficult from now on.”

This was the first Consort Chun had heard of it. After all, the two of them had grown up playing together and entered the palace together to serve the Emperor as close friends. After so many years, it was impossible to have no feelings at all. Though a rift had formed because of Fuheng, hearing this news now still made her feel sorrow on the Empress’s behalf.

“Look at me—why did I bring this up and needlessly worry you!” Noble Consort Xian suddenly smiled brightly. With an almost imperceptible push of her right hand behind Yongcheng’s back—

Yongcheng’s feet touched the ground. Pushed gently, he took two wobbly steps toward Consort Chun.

Seeing him totter, Consort Chun quickly reached out. The child showed no stranger-shyness; he grinned and stretched his little hands toward her. Once she lifted him into her arms, he curiously reached up to touch her elaborate hairdo, accidentally messing it up. Consort Chun didn’t mind at all; instead, she fondly stroked his head: “The Fourth Prince is truly so lively and adorable.”

Noble Consort Xian handed the bowl to Zhener: “You may take Yongcheng away for now!”

Zhener: “Yes.”

With neat and orderly footsteps, all the palace servants attending the meal withdrew. Even Yongcheng was carried out by Zhener. In the room, only Noble Consort Xian and Consort Chun remained.

Noble Consort Xian walked to the dressing table and beckoned to Consort Chun: “Your hair is a bit disheveled. Come, let me fix it for you.”

A beauty like a flower, years flowing like water.

Her long hair was let down. The horn comb glided through it from root to tip. Holding the comb herself, Noble Consort Xian stood behind Consort Chun: “So many years have passed, yet little sister’s appearance is still as lovely as ever. If you’re willing, everything can still be salvaged.”

Consort Chun gazed at the delicate reflection in the mirror; her willow-leaf brows, faintly tinged with sorrow, drew slightly together.

“What? Even now, at this point, are you still willing to continue to side. with the Empress?” Noble Consort Xian smiled. “You’ve followed her for so many years—what have you gained? Nothing but wasted time and fading youth. Look…”

She actually found a single white hair on Consort Chun’s head, gently plucked it out, and placed it on the table.

“Little sister, you already have white hair.” Noble Consort Xian sighed. “You’re still young now, still beautiful. But what about when you grow old?”

In the past, Consort Chun would have let such divisive words blow past her ears like the wind—she would have heard them and forgotten them. But just as Noble Consort Xian had said, times had changed. A rift had already formed between her and the Empress, so every word, every syllable, sank deep into her heart.

“There will only be more and more women in the rear palace… but men—there is only one.” Noble Consort Xian’s voice was gentle, as though every sentence was spoken purely for her benefit, seductive and bewitching: “Raise a son to provide for your old age—even the eunuchs in the palace understand this principle. When old age comes, adopting a son or daughter to rely on for protection… yet you still can’t see it clearly?”

“I…” Consort Chun’s mind was in utter turmoil.

“There.” The hair was now neatly arranged. A golden phoenix hairpin was inserted into Consort Chun’s updo. Noble Consort Xian leaned slightly forward, placed both hands on the other woman’s shoulders, and her smiling face appeared in the mirror opposite—radiant like a flower. “Little sister, you’ve been lost in a long dream. It’s time for you to wake up.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 97: Serving in the Bedchamber

   Wei Yingluo slowly opened her eyes.

Her limbs felt weak and limp, as though she were floating on clouds. After a while, her mind gradually cleared, and she looked around to assess her current situation.

This was a clean room. She lay on a bed with two thick quilts beneath her. A kang stove burned warmly beside her, filling the room with spring-like warmth.

“Yingluo, you’re finally awake.” Several palace maids gathered around. One held a towel, another carried hot tea. Wei Yingluo didn’t dare accept or drink anything. She watched them warily: “Where is this place? Why am I here?”

“This is one of the side chambers in Yangxin Hall,” a palace maid replied with a smile, her eyes carrying a trace of envy. “Yingluo, you walked through the heavy snow for four whole hours. His Majesty showed mercy and pardoned your offense.”

The moment Wei Yingluo heard it was a side chamber, she immediately flipped off the bed without another word and rushed toward the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” The maids hurried to block her.

“Hasn’t His Majesty already pardoned me?” Wei Yingluo suppressed the unease and anxiety in her heart and said, “I need to return to Changchun Palace.”

The two maids exchanged a glance and burst into giggles.

Maid: “Even if you want to go back to Changchun Palace, you can’t go looking like that—you’ll frighten Her Majesty the Empress!”

Wei Yingluo looked down at herself. Indeed, she was in a wretched state—covered not only in snow but also mud. The heat from the kang had dried it all onto her clothes. When she leaned in closer, there was a strange, unpleasant smell.

Maid: “We’ll help you wash up and change clothes, then do your hair again. Come!”

Wei Yingluo hesitated at first, but the maids pulled her firmly behind the screen.

The water in the bath tub was neither too hot nor too cold. One maid constantly tested the temperature with her hand; if it cooled even slightly, she called for someone to add a scoop of hot water, keeping the water at exactly the same warmth.

The maids helped Wei Yingluo bathe her body and wash her hair. A horn comb was drawn gently from root to tip, and finally a light fragrance oil was applied, leaving her hair glossy black with a faint scent of gardenia.

Once she was fully washed, dressed, and adorned, Wei Yingluo looked at the mirror they handed her and couldn’t help frowning: “What is the meaning of this?”

The unease in her heart seemed to be gradually turning into reality. Just look at what the mirror reflected: a gold-inlaid butterfly hairpin, Zhenzhu-style earrings, a winter robe embroidered with a hundred butterflies flitting among flowers. This was absolutely not the attire of a palace maid—it was the proper dress of a mistress of the palace.

The two maids exchanged smiles and spoke in unison: “Congratulations, Yingluo!”

Before Wei Yingluo could react, the two quickly left and locked the door behind them.

Wei Yingluo panicked and rushed straight to the door: “Open the door! Open it quickly! What are you people doing?!”

She pounded on the door for a long time, but not even a crack budged. Finally, gritting her teeth, she lowered her body and slammed upward with all her strength—only for the door to suddenly swing open from the outside. Caught completely off guard, she stumbled forward and fell right into a man’s arms.

This sensation… it was unmistakably the same person who had held her when she fainted earlier.

Wei Yingluo slowly raised her head. She never could have imagined it would be him:

“Your Majesty…”

Hongli looked down at her, a flash of amazement passing through his eyes.

Wei Yingluo was a beauty. Even dressed in a palace maid’s robes, she stood out among the crowd of maids, instantly drawing attention. Yet the palace was never short of beautiful women, and Hongli had never considered himself someone easily swayed by feminine charms. But today, at this moment, his mind was filled entirely with the conversation he had earlier with the Empress.

“Your Majesty, are you truly insisting on breaking off this marriage without any personal motives?”

   “What personal motives could I possibly have!”

   “Perhaps… Your Majesty has taken a liking to Wei Yingluo and wishes to keep her for yourself.”

   “Your Majesty…” Wei Yingluo’s puzzled voice pulled him back from his memories.

Hongli blinked. Only then did he realize that, at some point, his right hand had already risen to gently caress her cheek—tenderly, almost reluctantly.

Wei Yingluo seemed startled by his touch. She quickly stepped back several paces and raised her hand to remove the earring from her right ear:

“Your Majesty, please forgive me. The palace maids must have given me the wrong clothes and jewelry. This servant will take them off at once!”

She hurriedly removed the earrings, bracelets, hairpins, and rings. Then she suddenly noticed how unnaturally quiet the room had become. Cautiously glancing toward Hongli, she saw that he had, at some unknown moment, seated himself in a chair, one hand propping up his chin as he watched her.

“What’s wrong?” he said lightly. “Go on.”

No way… Wei Yingluo clutched the front of her robe with one hand and swallowed hard.

All the jeweled hairpins and ornaments had already been removed and placed on the table. The only thing left on her body was this single garment…

Hongli tapped his fingers on the tabletop: “Weren’t you going to change? Why have you stopped?”

Wei Yingluo gripped her robe even tighter: “This servant’s original clothes are all soaked through. I dare not offend Your Majesty’s presence.”

After a brief silence, Hongli suddenly said: “Come here.”

Bound by the order, Wei Yingluo could only grit her teeth and take a tiny step forward.

Hongli frowned: “I said come here.”

Warily, Wei Yingluo edged one more step closer—only to be suddenly yanked forward by Hongli until she stood right in front of him.

As if unwilling to bear the irritation alone, Hongli stared at her for a long moment before abruptly asking:

“The Empress said I’ve taken a fancy to you. What do you think?”

Wei Yingluo’s heart pounded wildly—not from being moved, but from sheer fright. Forcing a smile onto her face, she replied:

“Your Majesty must be joking. The rear palace is filled with beauties, a riot of purple and red. This servant is crude and ignorant—nothing more than a roadside wildflower. How could I possibly dare to tarnish Your Majesty’s eyes!”

Hongli studied her carefully. His gaze made every hair on Wei Yingluo’s body stand on end. Suddenly, he laughed:

“Upon careful reflection… a garden full of flowers blooming together makes for true spring. I’ve grown tired of obedient, gentle beauties. Having one prickly little thorn like you around would actually be quite interesting.”

Wei Yingluo was shocked: “Your Majesty!”

Hongli: “What? You’re unwilling?”

Wei Yingluo felt goosebumps rise all over her body. Wherever he had touched her itched as though caterpillars were crawling across her skin. She used every ounce of willpower not to shove him away, managing only a strained smile:

“Your Majesty, this servant only wishes to stay by the Empress’s side. Why must you, for a momentary whim, damage the affection between you and Her Majesty? Besides… besides, you are the Emperor, possessing the wealth of the four seas, broad-minded and magnanimous… and also…”

Hongli’s lips curved slightly: “And also what?”

Wei Yingluo said anxiously:

“Your Majesty, with a single imperial decree you could summon the most peerless beauties in the realm—plump like Lady Huan or slender like Lady Yan, all varieties available! I guarantee every one of them would be gentle and perfectly to your taste. Why must you force someone unwilling? It only diminishes your dignity!”

Hongli scoffed with icy disdain.

“It seems you’re unwilling.”

Wei Yingluo answered decisively:

“How can a house sparrow flock with a phoenix? This slave knows her own place!”

Hongli pondered for a moment.

“‘Thinking of the vastness of the Nine Provinces—surely it is not only here that beautiful women exist.’ I am the Emperor of Great Qing, master of the Nine Provinces. The beauties of the entire realm are mine to choose from. Why would I force an unwilling woman? There is no pleasure in it at all!”

Wei Yingluo was just about to feel relieved when suddenly her body lightened—she was lifted horizontally into someone’s arms.

Hongli sneered:

“Were you hoping I would say exactly that?”

He carried her to the bed and placed her down, then knelt on one knee beside her. Leaning over, his upper body pressed down like a mountain collapsing, making it hard for Wei Yingluo to breathe. The moment she turned her head aside, she felt his lips lightly brush her earlobe. Warm breath poured into her ear as he smiled and said:

“Let me tell you—I find forcing a woman for the first time particularly interesting! The more unwilling you are, the more I want to possess you!”

With that, he gently pecked her ear.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 96: Walking in the Snow

After the wedding was completed, Fuheng brought Erqing into the palace to pay respects to the Emperor. That day the flying snow was endless; both of them were wrapped in thick fox-fur cloaks, yet they still could not completely block out the bone-chilling cold outside. When the wind blew, it felt as though their very bones were freezing.

As they reached the outside of Qianqing Palace, they suddenly saw a solitary, frail figure kneeling on snow as thick as cotton wadding.

“This slave deserves to die ten thousand deaths!” The person rose, took three steps forward, then knelt again. “This slave deserves to die ten thousand deaths!”

Three steps and one kowtow—her forehead smashed a depression into the snow. Behind her stretched a long line of such depressions, gradually being filled in again by the wind and snow.

“Yingluo…” Fuheng’s eyes widened in shock. “This—this is… what’s happening?”

Li Yu replied:

“His Majesty said that Wei Yingluo is to start from Qianqing Palace and walk through all the Eastern and Western Six Palaces. Three steps and one kowtow. If she completes twelve full hours like this, he will forgive her offense and allow her to return to Changchun Palace to serve.”

Fuheng stared at Wei Yingluo, his expression shifting between dark and light, uncertain. Even after they entered Yangxin Hall to pay respects to the Emperor, his face remained the same.

By chance, Hongli’s expression was just as unsettled. When the two of them stood together, the temperature inside the room felt no different from outside—piercing, bone-chilling cold that made everyone else shiver.

“Enough.” Today Hongli seemed to have little interest in idle chat. After only a few words, he dismissed the newlyweds:

“Go to the Empress now. Let her meet her new sister-in-law as well.”

“…Yes.”

After the couple withdrew, Hongli picked up a memorial and began flipping through it. A gust of cold wind blew in through the window. He pressed his right fist to his lips and coughed lightly several times.

Li Yu hurried over to close the window. From behind him came Hongli’s voice, sudden and low:

“Is she still kowtowing?”

The hand closing the window paused. Looking out at the increasingly heavy snowfall and the figure growing smaller and smaller in the snow, Li Yu answered:

“Yes.”

Hongli: “How many hours has she been at it?”

“Already three hours.” As he spoke, Li Yu carefully observed the Emperor’s expression. Seeing his face grow darker and darker, he ventured to read the imperial mood:

“Your Majesty, Wei Yingluo is, after all, a woman. On such a heavy snow day, forcing her to do three steps and one kowtow for a full twelve hours… I fear she will freeze solid!”

“I gave her a choice.” Hongli suddenly slammed the memorial down on the table. “She was the one who refused to appreciate my favor!”

Fuheng was stunned. “Your Majesty…”

Hongli turned to look out the window, remembering the two choices he had given her earlier.

“First: personally admit to Fuheng, with your own mouth, that you have never liked him—that everything was because of your greed for vanity, that you deceived him!”

“Second: starting from Qianqing Palace, three steps and one kowtow, confessing your wrongs with every bow, until you have completed twelve full hours.”

“Complete either one, and I will allow you to return to Changchun Palace!”

And how had she answered?

   It couldn’t have been clearer.

   Outside, the sound of the snow howled in, accompanied by those distant-yet-near cries:

“This slave deserves to die ten thousand deaths!”

The snow grew heavier and heavier, like white ink splashed from left to right, covering Wei Yingluo’s hair, her eyelashes, her shoulders—turning her into a snowman. She staggered forward through the blizzard, her body cold, her heart even colder.

Suddenly a black oil-paper umbrella tilted over from the side, shielding her head.

Wei Yingluo slowly turned to look. She saw Yuan Chunwang standing there holding the umbrella. Snowflakes fell one by one onto the umbrella, gradually covering its surface completely in white. His expression was unreadable as he asked:

“Are you sad?”

“Sad.” Wei Yingluo coughed twice, then gave a tearful smile. “But from now on, I won’t be sad anymore. From this day forward, between him and me, all affection is severed, all bonds are broken. When we meet again, we will be strangers!”

“That’s good.” Yuan Chunwang smiled. “Come. I’ll walk the rest of the way with you.”

This path was the one Wei Yingluo had chosen for herself—she could only walk it to the end, even if she had to crawl the rest of the way on her knees.

Yuan Chunwang could not carry her, nor could he support her. All he could do was hold that oil-paper umbrella steady, quietly accompanying her at her side, walking the road with her in silence.

Along the way, the umbrella was tilted entirely over her head.

The wind and snow grew heavier. Half of Yuan Chunwang’s body remained exposed outside the umbrella, and soon snow pellets had soaked him through. Yet he paid it no mind. After some unknowable stretch of time, he suddenly said, “We’ve arrived.”

Yangxin Hall was not far ahead. Wei Yingluo, her lips purple and trembling, struggled to rise from the ground: “You go now. Don’t let anyone see that… Cough… it was you who helped me. Otherwise… cough… you would get into trouble.”

Yuan Chunwang let out a soft sigh. Like a shadow, he retreated behind her, his figure melting away behind the wall.

Only then did Wei Yingluo force her body forward. Her knees had long since lost all feeling. Every step was excruciatingly difficult; what flowed through her veins felt not like warm blood, but icy slush.

“Her Majesty the Empress…” She silently repeated the words in her heart several times. Relying on sheer grit and stubborn obsession, she finally staggered to the entrance of Yangxin Hall. A hand, frozen purple, reached out toward the door. Before it could touch the panel, her vision darkened. Just before she fainted, she vaguely saw a tall figure rushing toward her.

Who was it?

Wei Yingluo tried desperately to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt weighted with lead and refused to lift.

She could only feel a pair of hands—hard, unmistakably a man’s—tightly wrapping around her and holding her close.

At the same moment, inside Changchun Palace.

A hand reached out from the veranda, catching a single snowflake in the palm.

The same snowfall that brought Wei Yingluo cold and despair brought Erqing… nothing but contentment on her face.

“Erqing.” Ming Yu’s voice came from behind her. “Are you happy?”

Erqing did not turn her head. “Why do you ask?”

“You and I entered the palace together to serve Her Majesty the Empress. We ate together, slept together. Many of the tasks Her Majesty assigned, we often did side by side.” Ming Yu spoke haltingly.

“Ming Yu.” Erqing laughed softly, finally turning around. The jewels in her hair sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I just feel… I feel…” Ming Yu looked at her with a complicated expression. “It’s only been a few days, yet you seem like an entirely different person. I can’t find any trace of the old you anymore…”

The former Erqing had been cautious and prudent. She never spoke a single improper word, never took a single improper action—worldly wisdom ran deep in her bones.

A palace maid so flawless in conduct naturally won the favor of her masters.

Even the mistresses of other palaces, when mentioning Erqing, would praise her without end, calling her the most capable and trusted person by the Empress’s side.

Having grown accustomed to that version of Erqing, it was difficult to adjust to the one standing before her now.

Dressed in robes with extremely elaborate patterns, adorned with jewelry that was clearly priceless, and wearing an unmasked look of willful, delighted freedom in her eyes and brows.

It was as though she were deliberately showing off her success to everyone else.

“My status has changed, so naturally I am no longer the same as before.” Erqing smiled and took Ming Yu’s hand. “But no matter what, I will never forget the friendship we once shared. From now on, since I will no longer be by Her Majesty’s side, you must take my place and serve Her Majesty well.”

Ming Yu hesitated for a long while, words rising and falling back, until at last she could hold back no longer: “Erqing… is this really alright?”

The relationship between Wei Yingluo and Fuheng could be hidden from outsiders, but not from those inside Changchun Palace.

Knowing full well that Fuheng’s heart belonged to Wei Yingluo, and yet still eagerly marrying him anyway—such an act of openly seizing someone else’s love… was it really alright?

Erqing smiled coyishly, avoiding the question entirely and instead steering the conversation elsewhere.

“Just as you said,” she replied. “My grandfather was the Minister of Justice, and now our entire family has been raised into the banner nobility. We are a true household of officials, a prominent and illustrious family. Marrying Fuheng is a perfect match of status and a match made in heaven—what could possibly be wrong with that?”

You know full well that’s not what I was asking… Ming Yu looked at her with a complicated expression.

   “Besides…” Erqing’s gaze shifted, turning toward the outside of the flower pavilion. Snow weighed heavily on the branches, bending them low. Clumps of white snow fell to the ground. Two young palace maids were sweeping the snow with brooms, their faces contorted from the cold, noses and cheeks red.

It seemed as though she saw her own former self in those two girls. Erqing stared blankly for a long moment before continuing: “I endured six years of being a lowly servant. At last the bitterness has ended and sweetness has come. Aren’t you happy for me?”

“A lowly servant?” Ming Yu tilted her head. “Her Majesty has always been very good to us.”

“No matter how good things are in Changchun Palace, in the end we are still slaves—we must bow and scrape.” Erqing let out a soft laugh. “You should start planning for your own future soon too.”

Ming Yu’s gaze toward her grew increasingly unfamiliar. She slowly withdrew her hand and said, “No. I’m not going anywhere. I will stay and serve Her Majesty the Empress!”

“Everyone has their own aspirations. If you’re unwilling, I won’t force you.” Erqing drew her white fox-fur cloak tighter around her shoulders and once again turned her eyes toward the scene outside the pavilion—the green pines beyond, and the two snow-sweeping palace maids, which had now become the scenery in her eyes. “In the past, when I was in the palace, I dreaded snow the most. I feared the heavy snow would break the flower branches and make Her Majesty sad. I also feared running into some master from another palace—forced to kneel on the spot in bone-chilling cold. Now, at last, I can properly enjoy the snow.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 95: The Wedding is coming!!

   After returning from Changchun Palace, Hongli was still seething with undiminished anger.

“Me, liking that woman? No, impossible! I would never like her!” A huge pile of memorials awaited his review, yet he couldn’t read a single word. Grinding his teeth, he paced back and forth inside Yangxin Hall. “I possess all within the seas—what kind of woman can’t I have? As beautiful as Noble Consort Hui, as virtuous and capable as Noble Consort Xian, as talented and brilliant as Consort Chun…”

He listed one palace consort after another, finally convincing himself—it wasn’t that he was blind; clearly the Empress’s eyes were the problem.

No—obviously she had been bewitched by that damned girl, which had confused her mind and made her unable to tell north from south!

“Your Majesty.” Li Yu’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Fuheng, the Imperial Guard, has arrived.”

Hongli opened his eyes, took a deep breath: “Let him in.”

Fuheng entered and performed the greeting: “This servant respectfully wishes Your Majesty well.”

“Fuheng.” Hongli sat in his chair, looking down at him from above. “I have always kept you by my side to temper and train you. Now you are capable of standing on your own. After your marriage, you will take up a post in the Ministry of Revenue as Right Vice Minister.”

Fuheng was stunned upon hearing this: “Your Majesty, this servant is still young. To suddenly assume such a high position, I fear…”

Hongli waved his hand, cutting off the rest of his words: “Fuheng, my expectations for you go far beyond a mere post in the Ministry of Revenue. I know your ambitions lie elsewhere! But you must remember: a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. If you wish to establish great merit and achievements, you must first prove to everyone that my judgment was not wrong! The Ministry of Revenue will be your starting point!”

With the Emperor having spoken to this extent, Fuheng could no longer refuse. He prostrated himself: “This servant kowtows in gratitude for Your Majesty’s extraordinary grace!”

Once official business was concluded, Hongli hesitated for a moment before finally unable to resist asking about the other man’s personal affairs: “By the way, how are the wedding preparations coming along?”

“They are underway.” Fuheng’s face remained expressionless, as though he were discussing someone else’s private matters.

Looking at that wooden, emotionless face, Hongli said lightly: “Achieving top honors on the imperial exam and entering the bridal chamber on the wedding night are among the great joys of life. Yet today I have granted you a real official post and bestowed upon you a beautiful bride—why is there not the slightest trace of joy on your face?”

“Your Majesty’s grace, this servant will never forget in this lifetime.” Though he would not forget, he also felt no joy. Fuheng’s face remained devoid of any happiness—neither joy nor sorrow, like a piece of decayed wood that had lost all its moisture.

Suddenly, Hongli became angry. Because he had seen that very same expression on another person’s face. The two faces overlapped in his vision. Unable to restrain himself, Hongli slammed his fist heavily on the table and roared: “Get out!”

After Fuheng withdrew, Hongli’s mood still had not recovered.

He paced back and forth inside Yangxin Hall for a long time before suddenly stopping. Turning to Li Yu, he said: “Prepare the sedan—I wish to go out for a walk!”

In the depths of winter, the Forbidden City was bitterly cold. Each of the Eastern and Western Six Palaces had its own warming chambers, with heated flues laid beneath the floors. In autumn, the flues had to be cleaned; the palace servants responsible for tending the kang stoves were busy with the task.

Li Yu had originally assumed that when His Majesty said he wanted to “go out for a walk,” he meant the Imperial Garden or perhaps to visit one of the consorts in the rear palace. Who would have expected that, after wandering, he would end up outside at the side of the underground dragon flue. The kang-heating crew was working right there. One eunuch crawled into the tunnel, reached out his hand, and Wei Yingluo hurriedly passed him the cleaning tools. The eunuch took them and continued clearing the accumulated soot from the flue. Dust billowed everywhere, and Wei Yingluo coughed uncontrollably amid the choking clouds.

Hongli watched from the side for a long while before finally stepping forward. In a deep voice he demanded: “Have all the people at the kang-heating station died?”

The moment they saw it was him, the eunuchs at the kang-heating station hurriedly knelt. Those still inside the tunnel scrambled out in haste. The scene instantly became chaotic and disorderly.

Wei Yingluo was also kneeling among them. Besides her, there were several other palace servants from the Cleansing Division. Every year at this time, the charcoal flues had to be cleaned, and the twenty-five eunuchs in the kang-heating department couldn’t manage it alone, so they often requested personnel from the Cleansing Division.

Li Yu followed Hongli’s gaze and, seeing that it was her, immediately understood. Pretending to be surprised, he said, “Oh my, how is it you? The Cleansing Division should at least send a eunuch to do the work—why send a young girl?”

Wei Yingluo kept her head lowered and said nothing. The assignment had been arranged for her by Yuan Chunwang. Because of his prior arrangements, the work was very light—she was only responsible for passing cleaning tools. The rest of the time she rested, which was far more relaxed than in the Cleansing Division, and the injuries on her hands were almost healed.

A pair of bright yellow boots slowly approached her. Hongli’s voice came from above her head, calm and indifferent: “You’ve been in the Cleansing Division for so long. Don’t you want to return to Changchun Palace?”

Having suffered enough hardships under him, Wei Yingluo answered very cautiously: “This servant committed offenses and dares not hope for such favor.”

Her extreme caution only provoked Hongli’s displeasure. He didn’t even know what he was angry about, but his face turned cold as he said, “You can come and beg me!”

Li Yu glanced at him and chimed in: “Yingluo, His Majesty is giving you an opportunity.”

Wei Yingluo didn’t dare take the bait—she feared there was poison inside it.

Hongli stared at her for a long moment, his gaze lingering on her cracked and dry fingertips. Suddenly he said, “The Empress has awakened.”

Wei Yingluo jerked her head up to look at him.

“She has been bedridden for a long time, unable to walk properly, and her mood has been poor. She has become much thinner.” Hongli spoke indifferently. “Wei Yingluo, you received great kindness from the Empress—don’t you want to go back and serve her?”

Wei Yingluo sighed inwardly. Some bait, even when you know it’s poisoned, you still have to force yourself to swallow it. She prostrated herself fully before Hongli and, as he wished, softened her tone: “I beg Your Majesty to show mercy and allow this servant to return to Changchun Palace to serve Her Majesty the Empress!”

Seeing that she had finally taken the bait, Hongli smiled. “I can let you go back. However, you have defied me many times—I cannot let that go unpunished!”

Wei Yingluo answered without the slightest hesitation: “This servant is willing to accept punishment.”

Hongli’s smile deepened: “You have to actually accomplish it first!”

Yingluo raised her head and looked straight into Hongli’s eyes: “If Your Majesty says it, this servant will certainly make it happen!”

Flying snow filled the sky. Unbeknownst to them, winter had already arrived.

White snow blanketed the capital. As far as the eye could see, heaven and earth were one color of white. Yet inside the Fucha residence, everything was a uniform red.

Red firecrackers crackled and popped. Fuheng, dressed in bright red wedding robes, sat in the inner courtyard, staring blankly at the red double-happiness character pasted on the window.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder, followed by a laugh: “Brother, what’s wrong?”

Fuheng woke as if from a dream and turned to look at his younger brother: “A-Qian.”

Fuqian was young and handsome, bearing a strong resemblance to Fuheng, though he appeared more delicate, with a hint of scholarly refinement. He smiled: “Brother, tonight is your wedding night—why are you hiding here alone?”

Fuheng said in confusion, “I… I don’t know.”

Fuqian looked at him strangely: “Have you gone silly from happiness? Hurry back—the bride is waiting for you!”

Where in the world is there a paradise untouched by reality? After Fuqian found him, Fuheng was practically pushed all the way back to the bridal chamber. The door closed behind him. His face pale, he looked at everything before him: the red bridal veil, the red wedding robes, the red-clad bride.

The wedding matron brought over a weighing-rod scale and smiled: “Groom, quickly lift the veil.”

Fuheng slowly reached out and took the rod. He had held guns and swords before, yet he never imagined that this small weighing-rod would feel heavier than any gun or sword—he could barely hold it steady.

The rod slipped under the edge of the veil and slowly lifted it, revealing a shy, delicate face beneath.

Erqing had always been beautiful. After careful adornment for the wedding, she was now as radiant as peach and plum blossoms. Any man who saw her would want to taste her sweetness.

Only Fuheng, the moment he saw her, turned even paler.

Erqing kept her head lowered and did not notice the change in his expression. The matchmaker saw it but assumed he was simply overly nervous and did not pay it much mind. She used the bamboo pole already prepared and lifted the red veil up to the eaves, announcing in a loud voice:

“Perfect harmony and satisfaction, rising step by step!”

According to custom, this was the moment Fuheng should sit beside Erqing, yet he remained motionless for a long time, standing there like a wooden statue. The matchmaker had no choice but to go over and remind him:

“Groom, you need to sit here!”

Fuheng started slightly, came back to himself, and—with obvious reluctance—finally sat down next to Erqing.

The matchmaker came forward, overlapped the hems of their robes, and placed them on the kang table. On the table were “descendant dumplings” and longevity noodles. The matchmaker kept up a steady stream of auspicious words:

“Wishing the two of you every joy and fulfillment, blessings and longevity both complete!”

The maids chimed in from all sides:

“Yes, yes—may you soon give birth to a precious son!”

“A hundred years of harmony! Growing old together!”

“Many sons and grandsons! A hundred years of companionship!”

Amid the noisy congratulations, the matchmaker brought over a plate of dumplings:

“Now, eat the dumplings!”

She first took one dumpling and held it to Erqing’s lips. Erqing took a small, gentle bite, leaving a bright rouge-red mark on the snowy-white dumpling. The matchmaker smiled and asked:

“Will you give birth?”

Blushing, Erqing answered softly:

“Yes… yes, I will.”

Everyone clapped and laughed joyfully.

The matchmaker then took the same dumpling to feed Fuheng. Halfway there, Fuheng suddenly stood up, pushed her hand away, and rushed outside.

“Urgh—”

First the dumpling, then all the wine he had drunk earlier—everything in his stomach surged up his throat and poured out. It took a long while before he finally finished vomiting.

When Fuheng braced himself against the wall and slowly straightened up again, the bridal chamber had fallen deathly silent. Everyone stared at him in stunned confusion and bewilderment, unable to understand why he was in such agony.

“Everyone, get out,” Fuheng said hoarsely, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He dismissed them all.

Then he slowly sat down on a chair and looked across at Erqing, who was still seated on the edge of the bed.

Between them lay a distance that felt almost impossible to cross.

After a long silence, Erqing hesitantly ventured, her voice trembling and carrying the trace of a sob:

“Fuheng… are you… regretting it?”

Fuheng froze. The Empress’s warning echoed in his ears:

“Fuheng, I am very afraid… that you will regret this for the rest of your life.”

   Fuheng took a deep breath, as though trying to convince himself:

“No. I don’t regret it.”

Hearing this, Erqing let out a breath of relief and showed a gentle smile:

“I don’t regret it either. Even knowing full well that you love her, I am still willing to marry you! Fuheng, as long as I can become your wife, I am willing to do anything, endure any pain.”

Fuheng understood exactly what she was implying. He sighed, took her hand, and said softly:

“Erqing, from the moment I decided to marry you, I resolved to forget her.”

“Really?” Erqing looked up in delighted surprise, a teardrop glistening at the corner of her eye as she gazed at him with adoration.

“Yes. Since I have married you, I must take responsibility toward you. You are my wife now—the person I will spend my life with…” Fuheng spoke mechanically. He had once used these same words to comfort the Empress; now he used them again to comfort Erqing.

But while such words could deceive others, they could never deceive himself.

After a pause, he said in a low voice:

“It’s just… I still need a little time…”

Erqing raised her hand and gently pressed it to his lips, shaking her head tenderly:

“I understand. I understand everything. It’s all right. As long as you can say those words to me, I am willing to wait—no matter how long it takes. Fuheng, I am willing to wait!”

The same words he had once said to Yingluo…

Fuheng tried hard to suppress the pain in his heart and forced a smile at her. But that smile was as bitter as if he had drunk all the world’s bitterness

“Thank you, Erqing… thank you…”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 94: Awakening

After many days of unconsciousness, Empress Fucha had awakened.

She struggled to climb down from the bed, but she had lain immobile for so long that her limbs were weak and numb. She immediately collapsed to the floor.

“Niangniang!” Ming Yu hurriedly rushed over to support her. “Someone—quick, call the imperial physician!”

The Empress tightly gripped Ming Yu’s hand, her face filled with urgency: “No—call Fuheng. I want to see Fuheng!”

Today Fuheng happened to be on duty in the palace. Upon receiving news of the Empress’s awakening, he rushed to Changchun Palace without a moment’s delay:

“Sister!”

The Empress gave a meaningful glance toward the palace servants in the room. They quietly withdrew. Fuheng stepped to her side and was just about to say something when she suddenly raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

“…Sister?” Fuheng covered his cheek, looking at her in bewilderment.

“Fuheng, when you spoke in front of me before, I could hear every word—I just couldn’t open my eyes.” The Empress spoke with bitter disappointment, as though scolding someone hopelessly foolish. “You idiot! How could you agree to Erqing’s terms? What are you going to do about Yingluo?”

That name was like a thorn—every mention reopened a bleeding wound. Fuheng lowered his head and said quietly:

“Sister, in that situation, only by agreeing to His Majesty’s bestowed marriage could I save Yingluo.”

The Empress shook her head, unable to accept it: “Given her temperament, she would rather die together with you. Do you realize that from the moment you nodded, Yingluo will never forgive you? Fuheng—can you truly bear the outcome of becoming strangers to her forever?”

Fuheng fell completely silent.

“This is unfair—to you, to Yingluo, and to Erqing!” The Empress understood her younger brother; his silence was itself a wordless refusal. “No matter the cost, I will demand that His Majesty retract the decree!”

“Sister…” Fuheng raised his head to look at her. His lips were bitten until they turned white. With a bitter smile he said, “The imperial edict has already been issued. Erqing has left the palace to prepare for the wedding. There is no room left to turn this back! If you go to beg His Majesty to withdraw the decree, it will bring utter disgrace upon the Fucha family—and it will make it impossible for Erqing to face the world. You would be forcing her to her death! Erqing only agreed to this marriage in order to help me. For the sake of both emotion and duty, I cannot do such a thing!”

This time it was the Empress who fell silent.

People are not made of wood or stone—how can they be without feelings? Yingluo was one of her own close attendants, but Erqing had been too. So many days and nights, so long a bond between master and servant—she could not simply watch the other walk toward death with open eyes.

After a long pause, the Empress let out a deep sigh, her voice filled with sorrow:

“I thought that at least you and Yingluo could find happiness. I never imagined… the ending would be the same.”

Just like herself—she had loved Hongli with her whole heart, yet she had no choice but to share him with countless other women. If Yingluo still wished to be with Fuheng in the future, she would have to do the same: share him with Erqing.

But unlike her own situation, the marriage alliance between the Fucha family and the imperial house was unavoidable—whereas Fuheng and Erqing’s wedding could actually have been avoided. In the end, it was this child’s foolishness that had created today’s irreparable mess.

“Elder sister…” Fuheng looked at her with some concern. “Are you alright?”

Instead of worrying about me, you should worry more about yourself—and about Yingluo! the Empress thought to herself. Then she waved her hand wearily and said, “Leave. I don’t want to see you right now.”

Fuheng hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back for a long moment. Finally he sighed, turned, and began to walk away. Halfway out, the Empress’s voice suddenly rang out behind him:

“Fuheng… I am very afraid. You will regret this decision you made for the rest of your life.”

His footsteps halted. Fuheng lowered his head; his fist clenched tightly, then slowly loosened. At last he said in a low voice:

“…Elder sister, everyone must take responsibility for their own choices. Please forgive me.”

Not long after Fuheng left, Hongli received the news and hurried to Changchun Palace.

“Empress, you’re finally awake!” He had expected to see her smiling face, but when the person on the bed slowly turned toward him, he froze. “…What’s wrong with you?”

After many days of deep sleep, though she had been cared for and Wei Yingluo had tirelessly massaged her hands and feet, the Empress’s body had still grown steadily thinner and more haggard. Her once round, jade-like cheeks had sunken; her jet-black hair spilled across her shoulders. There was a faint, heartbreaking beauty to her—like Xi Shi clutching her heart—evoking pity at first sight.

“Your Majesty, you’ve come.” The Empress slowly turned her gaze toward him, hesitating as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t quite begin.

Recalling that he had just passed Fuheng in the corridor, Hongli already understood something. The joy gradually faded from his face. He said coolly:

“Empress, is there something you wish to say to me?”

Having been husband and wife for so many years, the Empress knew his temperament well. She could tell he was already angry, yet she still spoke her mind without fear:

“If I were to make a request, would Your Majesty be willing to cancel the marriage between Fuheng and Erqing?”

Hongli answered decisively: “Impossible!”

Though she had already anticipated that answer, hearing it from his own lips still filled her with disappointment. It was as if her body had been hollowed out in an instant. She closed her eyes, leaned back against the pillow, and said:

“If it cannot be done, then I have nothing more to say.”

Seeing her cold, indifferent expression, Hongli felt deeply uncomfortable—even a little wronged. He frowned:

“Empress, I don’t understand. Erqing is dignified and proper, intelligent and graceful. Her grandfather is the Minister of Justice. I even raised her entire family’s banner. Whether in status or character, she is hardly beneath Fuheng. Everyone is delighted—why are you the only one frowning?”

“Everyone is delighted?” The Empress found it somewhat amusing and actually let out a small laugh. “Your Majesty, is that really what you believe?”

Hongli forced himself to remain calm: “Is it not?”

The Empress stared at him, her gaze seeming to pierce through the majestic exterior of the Son of Heaven to the heart of an ordinary man hidden beneath:

“You are the ruler of all under Heaven. Every word you speak is golden and jade, and no one dares disobey. But I have accompanied you for many years—may I ask just one question: why must you tear apart Fuheng and the woman he truly loves?”

Under that gaze, Hongli actually felt a flicker of panic, though his face remained composed:

“I have said it many times—she is not worthy!”

The Empress slowly shook her head: “Worthy or not, Fuheng doesn’t care. Why does Your Majesty insist on minding it?”

“When marrying a wife, one marries virtue. Fuheng is a pillar I have personally chosen—he will be entrusted with great responsibilities in the future. His wife absolutely cannot harbor ulterior motives or be full of cunning schemes!” Hongli said through gritted teeth. “I am protecting him—keeping him from being bewitched by a venomous woman and making the greatest mistake of his life!”

The Empress was first stunned, then she looked him up and down for a long moment. Suddenly she burst into laughter—laughing so hard she rocked back and forth, unable to stop.

“Empress,” Hongli said coldly, face darkening, “what are you laughing at?”

The Empress abruptly stopped laughing. She looked at him and said, very calmly:

“Your Majesty, are you truly certain that your insistence on breaking this marriage has no personal motive?”

Compared to her calm, Hongli’s heart was in far greater turmoil—as though some secret… a secret even he himself was unaware of… was about to rise to the surface.

“What personal motive could I possibly have?” he forced out.

“Is it not because…” The Empress stared straight into his eyes, “…Your Majesty has taken a liking to Wei Yingluo yourself and wishes to possess her?”

Hongli was stunned. Then he threw his head back and laughed loudly:

“Empress, you’ve been unconscious too long—your mind isn’t clear anymore! Let me tell you, this is your delusion, your hallucination!”

If this really were the Empress’s delusion or hallucination, why would he need to flee in such panic?

   Hongli retreated all the way to the main gate. Still unwilling to accept it, he turned back and shouted—as if trying to convince her, or perhaps even more to convince himself:

“This is absolutely impossible!”

The door slammed shut with a thud. Ming Yu entered carrying a bowl of rice porridge, her face filled with worry: “Your Majesty…”

The Empress sat motionless on the bed, a single line of tears slowly sliding down from the corner of her eye.

“Your Majesty, please don’t be sad…” Ming Yu’s feelings were complicated; she truly didn’t know where to begin comforting her.

“The Emperor possesses the entire realm—what kind of woman can’t he obtain? Why does it have to be Yingluo?” The Empress wept blankly. “Can’t he just let her go… let Fuheng go?”

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   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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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 92: First and Last

   Yuan Chunwang saying he would protect Wei Yingluo was not just empty words.

Thanks to his outstanding performance during the disaster relief efforts, he had gained the appreciation of Noble Consort Xian. Now, with the Empress in a coma and Noble Consort Hui deceased, the entire power of the rear palace was in Noble Consort Xian’s hands. If Noble Consort Xian wanted to promote him, he was promoted immediately. Within the Cleansing Division, his word was law—he said one and it was one, said two and it was two.

“Look at your hands—they don’t even look like a girl’s anymore.” Yuan Chunwang took Wei Yingluo’s hand and shook his head. “From now on, stop scrubbing the night-soil buckets. Go help out at the kang-heating department first.”

Yingluo: “The kang-heating department?”

“The kang-heating department is under the Firewood Office and is in charge of supplying heat to the various palaces. But the Forbidden City only starts supplying charcoal after winter sets in. Right now the weather is still warm, so their workload is light. You can take the chance to rest a bit.” Yuan Chunwang lightly tapped her forehead with a flick of his finger. “Don’t be so honest all the time—you have to learn how to slack off a little!”

Wei Yingluo touched her forehead, touched by his care for her, yet annoyed by his overly familiar intimacy in front of others: “Okay, okay, I remember!”

Watching her leave, Yuan Chunwang smiled and shook his head. Just as he was about to go, a hand from behind grabbed his sleeve: “Brother Yuan!”

It was Jinxiu’s voice.

Yuan Chunwang frowned and was about to pull his sleeve back and leave when he heard her lower her voice: “I know who killed Noble Consort Hui!”

Yuan Chunwang’s footsteps paused.

Jinxiu gave a charming smile, smoothly wrapped her arm around his, pressing her full chest against him, and whispered: “Tonight at the hour of Zi (11 p.m.–1 a.m.), I’ll wait for you by the well in the rear courtyard. Don’t stand me up!”

That night, Jinxiu specially dressed up and did her makeup. With no jewelry to wear, she quietly broke off a camellia from a tree, carefully tucked it behind her ear, then gazed at her reflection in the well with self-pity.

The well reflected her face—and also the face of the person standing behind her.

A look of delight appeared on Jinxiu’s face. She turned and threw herself into his arms: “Brother Yuan, you came!”

Yuan Chunwang let her hold him and laughed softly: “The words you said to me this morning—what did you mean by them?”

Seeing his smile, Jinxiu was overjoyed. She lightly pounded his chest: “Brother Yuan, it’s so rare for us to be alone together, and that’s the only question you want to ask me?”

Yuan Chunwang took hold of her hand. His voice was gentle, full of seduction: “Be good, tell me.”

He had never spoken to her so kindly before. In her delight, Jinxiu completely lost herself and obediently answered: “Alright, I’ll tell you. That day I personally saw Wei Yingluo together with a craftsman from the ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Thousands of Reds’ workshop!”

Yuan Chunwang’s gaze darkened: “Oh? And what of it?”

“What else could it mean?” Jinxiu laughed. “The murderer who killed Noble Consort Hui has never been found. If it wasn’t one of the craftsmen, then it must have been someone inside the palace. Tell me—doesn’t she seem suspicious?”

“If she’s so suspicious, why didn’t you go report her?” As soon as Yuan Chunwang finished speaking, he shook his head. “You and Yingluo have long had bad blood, and you have no evidence. Even if you said it, no one would believe you.”

Jinxiu smiled and said, “Yes! I know that words coming from my mouth are hard for people to believe, so I’ve held back for a long time. But then I thought—if others won’t believe me, there’s still the Gao family! Noble Consort Hui’s own elder brother has been investigating the cause of her death all along!”

Sensing the threat hidden in her words, Yuan Chunwang withdrew the false warmth from his face and stared at her coldly. “What do you want?”

Jinxiu wrapped her arms around him, pressing her curvaceous body tightly against his, and said with a smile, “Brother Yuan, I know you’re Wei Yingluo’s sworn brother. You’ll definitely protect her, won’t you?”

Yuan Chunwang replied indifferently, “So?”

Jinxiu said softly and seductively, “As long as you promise to be with me from now on, I’ll keep this secret for her!”

Yuan Chunwang laughed, as though he had long anticipated she would say this, or perhaps he was simply mocking her overconfidence:

“Are you actually crazy or just pretending? Palace regulations strictly forbid palace maids and eunuchs from forming illicit relationships—those who violate the rule face severe punishment. And yet you dare make such a demand?”

“Palace rules forbid it, but they’ve never stopped it,” Jinxiu said dismissively. “Go take a look—how many palace maids and eunuchs have secretly become husband and wife? Brother Yuan, I just like you. I want to be with you. I promise I’ll treat you better than Wei Yingluo ever could!”

“Why do you like me?” Yuan Chunwang looked at her with a strange expression, as if he had finally been persuaded by her words. “I heard from Yingluo that you used to chase after the imperial guards. Compared to them, I truly have nothing.”

He had never shown her any warmth; occasionally granting her a single glance was enough to make her savor it for an entire day. Seeing a hint of softening in his tone, Jinxiu was overjoyed—her voice even trembled with excitement:

“I admit it! In the past I was vain and greedy for glory, always dreaming of climbing high branches and marrying into a noble family! But ever since I came to the Cleansing Division, I’ve changed—I really have changed! Especially the first time I saw you, I finally understood what it means to truly like someone. Everything I used to chase after no longer matters to me! Brother Yuan, I want to stay by your side, like an ordinary husband and wife among the common people—taking care of each other our whole lives, never leaving, never abandoning one another. Will you?”

“Take care of each other, never leave, never abandon?” Yuan Chunwang murmured to himself.

“Yes!” Jinxiu threw herself into his arms, speaking with deep emotion, “As long as you promise me, I won’t say a word. I won’t tell anyone! I can even forgive everything Wei Yingluo has done. As long as I can have you, nothing else matters to me!”

Yuan Chunwang lowered his head to look at her, then suddenly gave a dazzling smile. “Do you really love me that much?”

It was probably the most beautiful smile Jinxiu had ever seen in her life—beautiful enough to make her throw herself into the flame like a moth. She stared at him in a daze for a long time before finally nodding and softly answering, “Mhm!”

The next moment, her expression froze. Slowly, she lowered her head.

A dagger had pierced through her chest, sinking deep into her heart.

Jinxiu followed the blade with her eyes—down to the hilt, to the hand holding it, to Yuan Chunwang’s face. He was smiling at her, gentle and exquisitely beautiful: “Since you love me so much… are you willing to die for me?”

Jinxiu opened her mouth, wanting to answer him—Yes.

But Yuan Chunwang didn’t wait for her to speak. With one push, he sent her tumbling backward into the well behind her.

With a splash, the moon reflected in the water shattered into countless fragments.

Yuan Chunwang stood by the edge of the well, drawing out a handkerchief and calmly wiping the blood from his fingers.

“I forgot to tell you one thing,” he said with a faint smile, then let go. The handkerchief fluttered lightly down into the well, covering the face that was slowly sinking and rising in the water. “I hate being threatened the most.”

The next day.

   “An announcement,” Yuan Chunwang said to the palace maids and eunuchs gathered in the inner courtyard of the Cleansing Division. “Palace maid Jinxiu fled privately last night.”

An uproar erupted; voices rose in discussion.

“Fled? Jinxiu actually ran away?”

“This is the heavily guarded Forbidden City—where could she possibly go?”

“This girl really has guts the size of the sky—she’s not afraid of dying?!”

Wei Yingluo did not join in the crowd’s discussion. She frowned and turned her gaze toward Yuan Chunwang.

“Anyone who has information about Jinxiu must report it immediately. Otherwise, they will be punished as an accomplice!” Yuan Chunwang said calmly. “Enough, stop talking about this. Everyone, get back to work!”

After the crowd dispersed, Wei Yingluo quietly approached him.

“Brother, where did Jinxiu go?”

“How would I know where she went?” Yuan Chunwang smiled at her.

Wei Yingluo clearly didn’t believe he knew nothing. She stared at him and said,

“If she wanted to run away, how could there be no sign at all? Besides, the Forbidden City is heavily guarded layer upon layer. She didn’t grow wings—where could she possibly go?”

Yuan Chunwang reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Did you take today’s medicine?”

“Brother, don’t change the subject!” Wei Yingluo frowned. “I’m asking you a question!”

“An unimportant person isn’t worth keeping in your heart.” Yuan Chunwang smiled. “Did you take the medicine? Stretch out your hand—let me see how well the injury is healing.”

The weather was hot, yet Wei Yingluo suddenly felt a chill run down her back.

A human life, in his eyes, was worth less than a single scar on her hand.

There was never a shortage of work in the Cleansing Division. Wei Yingluo tried probing him indirectly a few more times, but seeing she wouldn’t get an answer, she had no choice but to return to her tasks first.

Once she left, the smile faded from Yuan Chunwang’s face and he fell into deep thought.

He knew Wei Yingluo had grown suspicious, but so what? He had handled everything cleanly from beginning to end—he wasn’t afraid of being discovered. And even if someone did find out, who would dare offend him—a major favorite in front of Noble Consort Xian—just for the sake of one criminal from the Cleansing Division?

“The one who framed Yingluo and caused her to be imprisoned… it must have been Jinxiu without a doubt,” Yuan Chunwang thought with a frown. “She had a grudge against Yingluo, but what about Momo Liu? Momo Liu had no enmity or grudge against Yingluo—why would she join Jinxiu in framing her? Was she deceived by Jinxiu… or was there someone behind her… giving her orders?”

If there really was another mastermind behind the scenes, then right now… that person was probably doing the same thing he had done: cleaning up all the loose ends.

Inside Zhongcui Palace, blood covered the floor.

   The blood was flowing from Momo Liu’s fingers—every single one of her ten fingernails had been torn out, leaving the bare fingertips gushing fresh blood.

Noble Consort Xian smiled faintly.

“Consort Chun, my dear sister, this old servant really can’t withstand much. After just a few strokes of the cane, she started talking. Would sister like to know what she said?”

Momo Liu, having suffered brutal torture, was already mentally dazed. She remained silent for a long while, then suddenly burst into loud sobs. Crawling on hands and knees, she threw herself toward Consort Chun.

“Your Ladyship! Your Ladyship, save this old servant…!”

Consort Chun took a step back. Her palace maid Yuhu immediately kicked Momo Liu away and hurriedly said,

“What nonsense are you babbling? When has our Ladyship ever had any connection with an old thing like you?”

Hearing this, Momo Liu tore at her heart and lungs, crying out,

“Yuhu, don’t you dare deny it! It was clearly Consort Chun who ordered me… ordered me to go frame Wei Yingluo!”

“Nonsense!” Yuhu gritted her teeth. “Our Ladyship had no grudge against that palace maid—why would she frame her? You—you were obviously instructed by someone else and are trying to drag our Ladyship down with you!”

A palace servant brought tea. Noble Consort Xian sat in her chair, leisurely taking a sip.

“Consort Chun, what do you say?”

Consort Chun’s face had gone somewhat pale.

“This is slander…”

“What slander? Your Ladyship, listen to me!”

Seeing that Consort Chun was turning cold and refusing to acknowledge her, Momo Liu decided that if you show no mercy, neither will I. She spilled everything—how Consort Chun had approached her, how she arranged for her to plant false evidence and frame the girl, the whole cause and effect, in exhaustive detail without the slightest omission.

In the face of the truth, Consort Chun’s denials appeared utterly feeble and powerless. Her body swayed and she leaned against Yuhu for support.

Just when she thought she was finished, Noble Consort Xian set down her teacup and spoke slowly and deliberately:

“Consort Chun, my dear sister, is someone I trust completely. How could I allow such an insolent old slave to behave so wantonly? Someone—cut out this old servant’s tongue!”

Momo Liu could never have imagined that her full confession would lead to this fate. Amid her blood-curdling scream, a bright red tongue was snipped off with golden scissors.

Looking at that tongue, cold sweat poured down Consort Chun’s back. She nearly fainted alongside Momo Liu.

“To deal with this kind of loose-tongued, backstabbing slave who dares to bite and frame her master, she must be dealt with severely as a warning to others. With her as an example, in the future, far fewer people will dare to commit insubordination or casually slander their superiors.”

Noble Consort Xian stepped forward and took her hand, speaking softly, “Oh dear, sister, why are your hands so icy cold…?”

Because your smile makes my back run cold.

   Keeping her true thoughts hidden deep in her heart, Consort Chun trembled as she replied with quivering lips, “My health hasn’t been good lately. I must have caught a chill…”

“Sister has always been frail and sensitive to cold—you really must take good care of yourself.” Noble Consort Xian patted her hand again, left behind a few more words of concern, then ordered the servants to drag Momo Liu away.

A trail of blood twisted and snaked behind her on the floor.

Only then did Consort Chun let out a long breath. She suddenly collapsed onto the couch, soft and boneless. After a long while she finally spoke: “Yuhu, why do you think Noble Consort Xian stepped in to clean up the mess for me?”

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 91: Hatred and Ruthlessness

   “Father!” Seven-year-old Yuan Chunwang cried, “Don’t leave me behind!”

The road stretched endlessly ahead, filled with an equally endless stream of refugees. Some could still walk; others had collapsed by the roadside, never to rise again.

The ground was a sickly yellow, without a trace of green. Even the grass roots buried deep in the soil had been dug up and eaten. When hunger reached its extreme, people turned into beasts. Several refugees staggered toward Yuan Chunwang, drool spilling from their mouths—as if what stood before them was not a child, but a tender, white lamb.

Just as Yuan Chunwang was paralyzed with terror, a gaunt, skeletal woman suddenly rushed out from behind them, scooped him up, and ran.

“Mother!” Yuan Chunwang clung to her neck and sobbed.

“You… why did you bring him back again?” a similarly emaciated man sighed. “We can barely keep ourselves alive—how can we take care of him too?”

Along the way, the man secretly abandoned him five times, but each time the woman found him and carried him back. Kindness received no reward. In the end, the man slipped away alone. The woman, clutching the boy, stumbled and staggered all the way to the capital—only to catch an epidemic. On her deathbed, she gripped his hand and said,

“After I die, go find your real father.”

Yuan Chunwang was stunned. “Real father?”

“I’m not your real mother either.” The woman coughed twice. “Back then, the Emperor Yongzheng was being pursued and hid in a farmer’s house. He had you with the daughter of that family… Child, you are not an ordinary person. You are an imperial prince!”

Yuan Chunwang was so shocked he couldn’t speak.

“Your poor birth mother had a bitter fate. After the Emperor Yongzheng returned, he never sent anyone to look for her. A woman alone with a child—how could she remarry? So she gave you to me.” With trembling fingers, the woman took out a string of sandalwood Buddhist prayer beads from her bosom and slowly slipped it onto Yuan Chunwang’s wrist. “Take this with you. Go find your birth father and let him…”

Before she could finish, her hand fell limp.

“Mother!” Yuan Chunwang pushed her, but she didn’t move. No matter how he cried or called, she never opened her eyes again.

Afraid that starving refugees would eat his foster mother’s body, the young Yuan Chunwang used his two small, bleeding hands to dig a shallow grave in the earth and buried her.

Afterward, with both hands dripping blood, he walked through the city gates.

The city gates were easy to enter, but the gates of the Forbidden City were hard to pass through. After enduring countless hardships, he finally found a richly dressed Noble Lady who agreed to send him into the palace.

But who would have thought—that person was actually his eighth uncle. After losing the struggle for the throne against Yongzheng and harboring deep resentment ever since, upon discovering that his rival had left behind an illegitimate son in the folk, for some dark and twisted reason, he had this nearly seven-year-old child sent to the cleansing chamber. With one swift stroke of the knife, Yuan Chunwang went from being a little prince to a little eunuch.

After that, he was assigned to the Princess Academy to serve his half-brother—Eighth Prince Fuhui.

Not only had Yuan Chunwang lost his manhood, he had also lost that string of rosewood prayer beads. Without this token of identity, he could no longer reveal the truth to Yongzheng. Then again… even if he still had the prayer beads in his hand, would Yongzheng ever acknowledge a little eunuch as his son?

He could only remain in the humble role of a servant, quietly standing by the side, watching with full envy as Yongzheng held Fu Hui in his arms and patiently guided his hand to write characters.

“I don’t want to write anymore!” Fu Hui petulantly tossed the brush aside. “Imperial Father, I want to ride a horse!”

With that, he scrambled down from Yongzheng’s lap and ran in front of Yuan Chunwang, pointing at him and ordering: “Quick, squat down—I want to ride a horse!”

Yuan Chunwang froze for a moment. The senior eunuch behind him immediately forced him down to the ground without a word: “The Eighth Prince wants to ride—didn’t you hear him? Get down!”

Why should I? I am the Emperor’s son—am I not also the Emperor’s son? A surge of rage rose in Yuan Chunwang’s heart. Just as he was about to stand up, he felt a weight on his back—Fu Hui had already climbed onto him.

Fu Hui laughed and shouted excitedly: “Imperial Father, look—your son is riding a horse! Giddy-up! Giddy-up! Faster! Faster!” Yongzheng burst into hearty laughter: “Fu Hui, be careful—don’t fall!”

Yuan Chunwang gritted his teeth and crawled forward on the ground, deeply lowering his head so they wouldn’t see the pain and hatred twisting across his face.

As Yongzheng’s most beloved son, Fu Hui lived freely and without restraint. Day after day he treated Yuan Chunwang like a horse to ride, growing accustomed to his silent obedience—so accustomed that he came to believe real horses shared the same temperament. As a result, during one riding lesson, he fell off.

“How are you all taking care of the Eighth Prince? A bunch of useless trash!” Yongzheng roared with fury inside the Prince Academy, pointing at the palace maids and eunuchs kneeling on the ground. “Drag them out—thirty heavy strokes each!”

Yuan Chunwang was among them.

Thwack, thwack, thwack—the rods struck flesh. All around came cries of pain, yet he clenched his fists tightly and endured in utter silence.

That night, Yuan Chunwang limped into Fu Hui’s chamber. His gaze fixed blankly on the sleeping boy in the bed. Then he slowly broke into a smile.

Since his foster mother’s death, he had not smiled once.

Today was the first time he smiled—a dazzling, venomous smile, like a brightly patterned poisonous snake being born amid the schemes and cruelty of the Forbidden City. Then, without a sound, he walked to the window and flung it open. The biting winter wind rushed in. Behind him, Fu Hui gave a small cough.

Still smiling, Yuan Chunwang went around and opened every single window in the sleeping chamber…

“After Fu Hui died of illness, all of us who served him were punished and sent to the Cleansing Division.” In the dim storeroom, the candle flame flickered weakly; the candle had already burned down halfway, casting unsteady shadows. Yuan Chunwang gently stroked Wei Yingluo’s hair and murmured, “I don’t regret it. I only feel hatred.”

Hatred toward his eighth uncle—who, after failing in the succession struggle, vented all his bitterness on a child not yet seven years old.

   Hatred toward Yongzheng—who had his own flesh and blood standing right before him, yet remained blind to it.

   Hatred toward Fu Hui—though they shared the same blood as brothers, he forced him to live like an ox or a horse.

   “…What I hate most is this ridiculous world.” Yuan Chunwang suddenly let out a low, bitter laugh, the sound heavy with lingering gloom. “What did I do wrong? Why did every misfortune have to fall on me? We are close blood brothers, yet they stand high above while I crawl on the ground, reduced to the lowest, most despicable slave in the world!”

A single tear slipped from the corner of Wei Yingluo’s eye.

In truth, she had woken up midway through his story. She had kept her eyes closed, quietly listening to Yuan Chunwang reveal a past no one else knew.

“Yingluo, Heaven’s way is unjust, the world is heartless. If you don’t want to become fish on someone else’s chopping block, you can only hold the knife and board yourself!” Yuan Chunwang lowered his head to look at her and gave a gentle smile. “But don’t be afraid. Big brother will protect you—because you are me, and I am you. In this world, only you and I share the same misery, and only you and I can warm each other, pity each other.”

After saying this, he lowered his head and softly kissed away the teardrop on her face.

Wei Yingluo was startled.

She hadn’t opened her eyes before, and now she was even less willing to open them.

She could only continue pretending to be asleep, letting the other person press his lips against her eye. That cold pair of lips gradually took on the warmth of her tears.

Little did she know that Jinxiu had come searching for the warehouse and, by sheer coincidence, witnessed this exact scene. She froze at the doorway, her eyes surging with barely suppressible jealousy and hatred…

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 90: Parting

Creak—

The cell door opened. A eunuch walked in from outside and, with a few quick motions, removed the chains from Wei Yingluo’s body: “You may go.”

“What?” Momo Liu, locked in the cell opposite, shouted. She grabbed the iron bars and shook them frantically: “How can she be released? What about me?”

Wei Yingluo rotated her sore, reddened wrists, said nothing, and walked out the door.

She asked no questions. If the other party did not wish her to know the reason, asking would be useless. If they did wish her to know, she would find out soon enough.

And indeed, that was exactly what happened.

When Wei Yingluo returned to the Permanent Alley, she found someone already waiting for her there.

“Fucha Fuheng.” Wei Yingluo stopped walking and looked at him. “What have you done?”

The Emperor would not release someone without cause. For her to be freed, someone must have paid a sufficient price.

“Yingluo.” Fuheng spoke in an extremely soft voice. “I am going to marry Erqing.”

The sun had not yet set; the slanting sunset rays fell across Wei Yingluo’s shoulders. Yet she felt ice-cold all over—as though what had landed on her was not sunset light, but red snow, heavy and crushing, sinking into her bones with marrow-chilling cold.

“Is that so…” She suddenly turned away and murmured as if in a dream, “You are going to marry Erqing.”

“Yingluo!” Fuheng took a step forward and reached for her hand, but she shook him off forcefully.

A flash of pain crossed Fuheng’s eyes. He hesitated for a long moment, then clenched his teeth, drew a scented sachet from his bosom, and said: “I came to return this to you.”

Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head and looked at the sachet without any expression.

A token of love, given on Qixi Festival—the day they became betrothed.

   “You don’t want it anymore?” Wei Yingluo gave a bitter, tragic laugh. “Then throw it away!”

With a flick of her hand, she knocked the sachet out of his grasp. Right beside them was an open drain; the sachet fell into the foul water. A few bubbles rose to the surface as it slowly sank to the bottom.

“All those sweet words you once said to me—I heard them so often that I carelessly believed every one.” As the sachet reached the bottom, so did Wei Yingluo’s heart. “So when His Majesty questioned me, I offered no explanation—because it was the truth. Even if severely punished, I was willing to bear it. I thought… you would feel the same as I did…”

“Yingluo…” The pain on Fuheng’s face deepened. He stepped forward again, as though wanting to take hold of her once more.

“Are you going to say you had no choice?” Yet Wei Yingluo began stepping backward, shaking her head. “There are a thousand and ten thousand excuses, but the outcome is only one—you are going to marry Erqing. Isn’t that right?”

People are always duplicitous—saying one thing while feeling another.

Her mouth spoke calm, composed words, but inside her heart was weeping bitterly, silently pleading: Explain—please explain it to me. No matter what difficulties you face, I can understand…

But she waited and waited, and all she received in the end was one heavy word from him:

“…Yes.”

Wei Yingluo hurriedly lifted her head—only by holding this posture could she keep the tears from falling in front of him.

“Very well. I understand.” She smiled. “From today onward, do not come looking for me again.”

She turned and walked away, seemingly resolute, yet her departing steps were very, very slow.

So slow it was almost as if she were deliberately waiting—waiting for him to change his mind, waiting for him to chase after her.

But he did not.

Fuheng stood silently behind her, watching her leave until her figure had completely vanished into the distance. Only then did he slowly walk to the edge of the drainage ditch. Without the slightest hesitation, his clean fingers reached into the foul, stinking gutter. From amid the pile of mud and filth, he retrieved a fragrant sachet, then pressed it unhesitatingly against his heart. His expression was one of profound sorrow.

As the sun set in the west, inside the palace maids’ quarters of the Cleansing Division

“Where is Wei Yingluo?” Yuan Chunwang pushed open the door and entered, his gaze sweeping the room.

The palace maids inside froze. Jinxiu hurriedly countered with a question: “Wei Yingluo? Wasn’t she locked up in the Bureau of Careful Punishment? What—has she been released again?”

Yuan Chunwang gave her a calm, unreadable glance, offered no explanation, and simply turned to leave.

From his understanding of her, if she hadn’t returned to the maids’ quarters, there was only one other place she could possibly be.

Yuan Chunwang soon arrived at the warehouse.

The smell of mildew, dust, and darkness rushed toward him. He walked to the deepest corner of the warehouse and spoke to the figure huddled against the wall: “Afraid someone will see you crying?”

Wei Yingluo kept her back to him. “…I’m not crying!”

Yuan Chunwang didn’t expose her lie. He casually lit the copper candlestick on the table. The dim, flickering flame illuminated his fingers, his slender profile, and the redwood food box he carried in his other hand.

He opened the box. The top layer held plum-blossom roasted meat; the second layer, stir-fried wood ear mushrooms; the third, pearl-like grains of tribute rice congee; and the fourth, a plate of snowflake cakes dusted with frosted sugar.

“The Bureau of Careful Punishment is no pleasant place. You were locked up all day and didn’t eat anything, did you?” Yuan Chunwang said lightly, picking up a piece of snowflake cake and offering it to her.

Wei Yingluo turned her face away, refusing to acknowledge him.

“What’s this?” A trace of mockery entered Yuan Chunwang’s voice. “Just because Fucha Fuheng abandoned you, you take it out on me—and on yourself? Wei Yingluo, is this all the spirit you have?”

The four words “Fucha Fuheng” pierced her like a needle. Wei Yingluo jumped to her feet and glared at Yuan Chunwang, her eyes crisscrossed with bloodshot veins like spiderwebs. “What did you say?”

“Don’t like hearing it?” Yuan Chunwang said coldly. “Then I’ll say it anyway. You’ve rejected Fucha Fuheng again and again, all just an act. In truth, you like him so much it’s killing you!”

“Shut up!”

“And what about Fucha Fuheng toward you? He’s a noble young master from a prestigious family—there’s never been anything he couldn’t have. Yet only you always push him away. The more you retreat, the more he pursues you! But so what?” Yuan Chunwang sneered. “In the end, isn’t he still going to marry someone else? All that so-called true love is nothing but a joke!”

“Enough!” Wei Yingluo covered her ears. “I won’t listen!”

Yet Yuan Chunwang ruthlessly pulled her hands down, leaned close to her ear, and whispered softly, almost tenderly: “Wei Yingluo, you’ve always been so proud and self-assured. This is the first time you’ve been truly hurt by a man, isn’t it? Does it ache? Does it hurt terribly? Let me tell you—the heavens are simply unfair. No matter how much you two love each other, with your background, you are destined never to marry into the Fucha family openly and honorably. Never.”

“Shut your mouth!” Wei Yingluo wrenched free of his grip and raised her hand high to slap him.

“Are you going to hit me?” Yuan Chunwang didn’t dodge; he simply looked at her quietly. “The one who truly tore you apart is Qianlong. The one who actively gave you up is Fucha Fuheng. And me? I’ve always stood by your side, thinking of you in every way, afraid you’d suffer the slightest harm—and yet you would treat me like this?”

Wei Yingluo stared at him in stunned silence.

“I am your sworn brother, your protector, the person in this world who cares about you most.” Yuan Chunwang gently touched her cheek, his voice extremely soft, even carrying a trace of heartache. “Are you really going to bring that slap down?”

In the end, the slap never fell.

What fell… were only her tears.

“Alright, alright.” Yuan Chunwang pulled her into his arms and comforted her, “Yingluo, don’t cry for someone who abandoned you. It will only make others laugh at you and won’t help anything at all.”

“But…” Wei Yingluo sobbed in his embrace, “It hurts… It really hurts so much…”

“That’s only temporary.” Yuan Chunwang stroked her hair, his tone both soothing and admonishing. “Yingluo, your biggest mistake is having an ice-cold exterior but not an equally cold heart. Someone like you is easy to misunderstand—and easy to hurt yourself with. You really are too foolish… far too foolish…”

Wei Yingluo cried for a long time before finally stopping. The night had grown deep; cicadas sang outside the room, while inside, her stomach let out a loud growl, causing her to blush in embarrassment.

This time Yuan Chunwang didn’t tease her. Instead, he personally picked up the bowl of plain congee and fed her spoonful by spoonful. After a few bites, Wei Yingluo suddenly said, “Brother, you’re really good to me.”

“Only now you realize how good your brother is?” Yuan Chunwang laughed.

Wei Yingluo nodded and said softly, “Brother, I’ve never asked you before… someone like you… how did you end up entering the palace?”

Yuan Chunwang froze. After a long pause, he said lightly, “I forgot. I entered the palace when I was very small. I’ve pretty much forgotten everything from before.”

“Is that so…” Wei Yingluo glanced at him, unsure whether to believe him or not.

After the meal, Wei Yingluo rested her head on his lap and murmured, “I want to sleep for a while.”

“Sleep then.” Yuan Chunwang took off his outer robe and draped it over her. “Big brother is right here.”

Wei Yingluo gave a soft “mmh” and slowly closed her eyes.

While locked up, she hadn’t eaten properly and hadn’t slept well either. Having lived in constant fear and anxiety until today, she could finally close her eyes with peace of mind.

In the darkness, Yuan Chunwang sat leaning against the wall, gently stroking her hair with his right hand until small, even snores began to sound. Only then did he whisper softly,

“Actually, I didn’t forget. I remember everything…”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 89: The Method

Cleansing Department Accounts Office.

A group of young eunuchs stood with heads bowed in solemn silence, nervously watching Yuan Chunwang across from them.

Yuan Chunwang sat behind the desk, flipping through the account book in his hands. He pointed out several irregularities: “Go back and correct these. Bring them to me when they’re fixed.”

The young eunuchs hurriedly accepted the book with both hands: “Yes, sir!”

After all the young eunuchs had left, a graceful figure suddenly slipped through the door. Leaning against the doorframe like a slender willow, she smiled and said: “Brother Yuan, what are you so busy with?”

Yuan Chunwang glanced at her once, then continued organizing the accounts on his desk.

Since the mountain would not come to her, she would go to the mountain. Jinxiu approached with a radiant, flower-like smile: “Brother Yuan, Wei Yingluo’s death is near at hand. Aren’t you going to turn around and look at me yet?”

The hand sorting the ledgers paused. Yuan Chunwang slowly raised his head, narrowed his eyes, and said: “What did you say?”

Jinxiu simply sat down on his desk, turning her curvaceous body halfway toward him so that Linglong’s figure was right before his eyes. Smiling, she said, “Wei Yingluo has been accused of cursing Noble Consort Hui to death. This time, the evidence and the culprit have been caught together—she absolutely won’t escape! Ai, Brother Yuan, where are you going? Wait for me…”

At the duty room of the Imperial Guards.

A cup of fragrant tea sat on the table, its aroma wafting through the air. Afternoon sunlight spilled over Fuheng as he turned a page in the military book in his hand. Suddenly, a somewhat unfamiliar voice rang out—clear and cool like a mountain spring: “Fucha Fuheng, come out!”

He frowned and turned his head. A strikingly beautiful young eunuch stood at the doorway. Two guards beside him were tugging at the intruder, shouting sternly, “Who are you, daring to barge into the Imperial Guards’ station and address Lord Fucha by name so directly!”

“Who I am isn’t important,” Yuan Chunwang said, gazing coldly at Fuheng. “What matters… is Wei Yingluo!”

Fuheng raised a hand. The two guards immediately released their grip and withdrew from the room.

“You just mentioned Wei Yingluo?” Fuheng did not rise from his chair; he leaned back and asked, “What happened to her?”

“Someone found a voodoo doll in the warehouse and identified her as the one who cursed Noble Consort Hui to death,” Yuan Chunwang said. “She has already been taken to the Yangxin Hall. I’m afraid she will be executed very soon.”

At those words, Fuheng said nothing more. He stood up and rushed straight toward the door.

“Do you want to get Wei Yingluo killed?” Yuan Chunwang called after his retreating back.

Fuheng spun around sharply. “What do you mean?”

Yuan Chunwang sneered. “A grand Imperial Guard pleading for a lowly maid from the Cleansing Division—if you say there’s no private affection between you two, who would believe it?”

Fuheng: “You—!”

Yuan Chunwang said coldly, “Normally a matter like this would be handed over to the Ministry of Punishments for handling. Why has it been taken to the Yangxin Hall instead? Lord Fucha should understand better than anyone! If you go there now, it won’t matter much for you—but it will enrage the Emperor. At that point, Wei Yingluo will truly have no way out!”

Hearing this, Fuheng’s face slowly drained of color.

Leading cavalry into battle was his strength; qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting were also talents he possessed. But when faced with such schemes, intrigues, and mutual deception, Fuheng was completely at a loss, his mind in chaos. After a long silence, he asked in a somewhat dry voice, “Do you have any solution?”

“The solution lies in the Changchun Palace,” Yuan Chunwang said softly and meaningfully. “Only one person can save Wei Yingluo.”

Fuheng stared at him for a long moment, then abruptly turned and left.

He had never felt the road to Changchun Palace to be so long—as though he had walked through an entire lifetime.

“Sister!” With a thud, Fuheng burst into the sleeping chamber, half-knelt at the bedside, and grasped the Empress’s hand. “Save Yingluo!”

Erqing had been feeding the Empress medicine; startled by his sudden entrance, some of the medicine spilled from the bowl in her hand. “Lord Fucha, how did you…”

Fuheng ignored her completely. He gripped the Empress’s hand tightly, his voice full of urgent pleading: “Sister! Sister, I know you can hear me. Ye Tianshi said your body is gradually recovering, but you’ve been escaping reality and refusing to wake up! Can you hear me speaking, Sister?”

The Empress lay motionless on the bed.

Fuheng’s voice grew even more sorrowful: “Sister! Ever since your illness, mother cries every day—now one of her eyes can no longer see. father sighs all day long, unable to focus on official duties! And everyone in the entire Changchun Palace is downcast and lifeless, like stagnant water! You used to dote on Wei Yingluo so much. She went to take revenge for you, went to kill for you. Now she stands on the brink of death—can’t you pull yourself together and help her?”

At the mention of Wei Yingluo’s name, Erqing lowered her eyes, a shadow passing through them. Then she raised her gaze and said, “Lord Fucha, Her Majesty has been asleep all this time. She cannot hear anything.”

“No, she can hear!” Fuheng had run out of options. He could not save Yingluo himself. Across the entire realm, only one person could save her—and that person was right in front of him. No matter what, he had to awaken her. “Sister, you can hear everything. Why won’t you wake up? Why do you insist on lying here? Is it because you cannot bear the pain of losing another child? Or because you dare not face the endless struggles of the inner palace? But how long can you keep escaping? Unless you lie in this bed for the rest of your life—unless you remain a living corpse forever!”

“Imperial Guard Fucha, please don’t do this. No matter how much you say, Her Ladyship she…” Erqing’s voice abruptly cut off.

A single tear had formed at the corner of the Empress’s eye. At the same moment, her pinky finger curled slightly—as though she were trapped in a nightmare, struggling with all her might to break free from it.

“Sister!” Fuheng was overjoyed. He gripped her hand even tighter, as if trying to transmit his strength to her, to help her tear through the nightmare and crawl out. “Please, wake up—wake up! Only you can help her. Only you can save her…”

A soft sigh came from beside him. “You want to save Wei Yingluo?”

Fuheng paused, then turned to look.

“If Her Ladyship doesn’t wake up, there won’t be enough time,” Erqing said. She set the medicine bowl aside, drew out a handkerchief, and slowly and gracefully wiped the medicinal stains from her hands. Even this simple action carried the refined elegance of a lady from a great family. She put the handkerchief down, raised her head, and gave Fuheng a faint smile. “If you want to save Wei Yingluo, there is only one way… It’s very simple. I’ll tell you.”

Inside Yangxin Hall, the atmosphere was tense.

Wei Yingluo had no idea that Fuheng and Yuan Chunwang were currently doing everything in their power to find a way to save her. Even if she had known, she would not have sat quietly and waited. She had never been the type to wait passively for rescue—if no one was coming to save her, she would save herself!

She picked up the small wooden figure from the floor and calmly examined it for a moment. Then she gently tugged at the knot: “Your Majesty, this is a reef knot.”

Noble Consort Xian: “A reef knot?”

“This kind of knot is very easy to untie. Just grip here with both hands and pull hard—it comes apart effortlessly.” Wei Yingluo demonstrated, and sure enough, the rope loosened quickly and fell into her palm like a limp thread.

Momo Liu pursed her lips. “So what?”

“Whether for embroidery or any kind of work, a reef knot comes undone easily. That’s why I never use it. Look!” Wei Yingluo took the rope in her hand and tied a new knot around the wooden figure’s neck. “I prefer to tie knots like this. If you don’t believe me, you can examine all of my embroidery pieces and every knot I’ve ever tied—see for yourself what kind I use.”

Momo Liu scoffed with icy disdain. “Even if the knotting method is different, that doesn’t prove this object has nothing to do with you!”

Wei Yingluo sneered. “Momo Liu, where was this wooden figure found?”

Momo Liu: “In the storeroom where you live!”

Wei Yingluo: “Which part of the storeroom?”

Momo Liu: “The storeroom… behind the firewood pile, in a small hole in the wall—specially used to hide this kind of malevolent charm!”

Wei Yingluo laughed. “Noble Consort Hui has been gone for more than two months. If she really had been cursed to death by me, why would I leave the evidence behind instead of disposing of it? Why keep it for you to find?”

Momo Liu: “That’s for you to explain—I don’t know!”

Wei Yingluo: “Fine! Let’s say I was that stupid and deliberately left evidence. The wooden figure was hidden in a hole in the wall. In summer the warehouse is damp and stiflingly hot; the firewood pile is always wet, and the walls leak and grow moldy. Yet this wooden figure, soaked in such conditions, doesn’t have the slightest trace of moisture!”

Momo Liu’s face grew uglier by the second. “This… this…”

Wei Yingluo stared at her. “That’s because this little wooden figure was only recently placed there!”

Hongli remained expressionless the entire time, silently staring at Wei Yingluo without saying a word.

Something was clearly amiss. Noble Consort Xian could no longer pretend not to notice. She immediately demanded, “Momo Liu, what exactly is going on here?!”

Momo Liu was sweating profusely. “This… this servant doesn’t know!”

Wei Yingluo: “It’s all because you were too stupid—even a small thing like this you couldn’t handle properly. What else are you good for? Noble Consort Xian Niangniang, someone must have instructed her in this matter. Please do not let the person with ulterior motives escape!”

Noble Consort Xian shook her head. “Take her to the Bureau of Careful Punishment. Interrogate her rigorously!”

Li Yu: “Yes, Your Ladyship!”

Li Yu waved his hand, and Momo Liu was immediately dragged away. She cried out in alarm: “Your Majesty, spare me! Noble Consort Xian, spare me! This servant knows her crime—this servant truly knows her crime!”

Wei Yingluo watched coldly as Momo Liu was hauled off.

Noble Consort Xian said: “In that case, Wei Yingluo has been wrongly accused. Your Majesty, perhaps…”

She had thought the matter would end there, but Hongli scoffed with icy disdain: “The crime of cursing and killing Noble Consort does not fall on you. But as a palace maid of the inner court, having a private affair with an imperial bodyguard—how do you explain that?”

Wei Yingluo froze, then suddenly looked up at Hongli.

Noble Consort Xian was shocked: “Your Majesty, this matter concerns a palace maid’s chastity and reputation—it can be grave or trivial. Without evidence…”

Hongli spoke word by word: “I saw it with my own eyes! Someone—take her to the Bureau of Careful Punishment as well!”

The eunuchs stepped forward. Wei Yingluo rose to her feet and walked straight out without the slightest hesitation.

Hongli: “Stop!”

Wei Yingluo halted.

Hongli’s face was extremely dark and gloomy. Though he himself had issued the order, he now faintly appeared to regret it: “Just a moment ago you were so eloquent—why aren’t you defending yourself now?”

It seemed that as long as she explained, he would believe her and set her free.

But Wei Yingluo lowered her head for a moment, then softly replied: “…Since Your Majesty says you saw it with your own eyes, this servant has nothing to say.”

His right hand gripped the armrest of the chair so tightly that the veins on the back of his hand bulged. Yet Hongli still forced himself to appear indifferent, saying coolly: “Very well—nothing to say. Take her away!”

Wei Yingluo sighed softly and was led away by the eunuchs. Hongli kept staring at her retreating figure. Beside him, Noble Consort Xian lowered her eyes to look at the veins standing out on the back of his hand, deep in thought.

“Your Majesty.” Li Yu suddenly hurried in from outside. “Imperial Guard Fucha has arrived.”

“What is he here for?” Hongli sneered. “Don’t tell me he’s come to plead for that woman?”

He suddenly realized he had spoken too freely and immediately shut his mouth. Noble Consort Xian was far too clever; she pretended not to have heard and asked no questions. After sitting in Yangxin Hall for a short while, she excused herself by saying she had palace affairs to attend to and left with Zhener and the others.

Once she was gone, Hongli spoke again: “Is the man still outside?”

Li Yu returned and answered: “He’s still kneeling out there.”

Hongli scoffed with icy disdain, almost venting his anger: “Let him kneel!”

Li Yu hesitated for a moment: “Your Majesty… he says he has urgent business to report to you!”

“What urgent business could there be?” Hongli said coldly. “It’s obviously about that woman. Tell him—Wei Yingluo has defiled the palace; I will show her no mercy!”

Li Yu: “Yes, Your Majesty!”

Just as Li Yu was about to withdraw, a voice called from behind: “Wait!”

In the inner courtyard of Yangxin Hall, Fuheng knelt on the ground. He had waited quietly for a long time, not receiving a summons from Hongli, but instead a pair of bright yellow dragon boots approached.

“Fuheng!” Hongli looked down at him from above. “Fuheng, why are you kneeling? For whom are you kneeling?”

Fuheng took a deep breath and prostrated himself before him: “Your Majesty, this servant has come to request an imperial marriage decree!”

“You wish to marry Wei Yingluo?” Hongli didn’t even know why such fury surged within him—so intense that he didn’t want to hear another word. He cut him off directly: “Let me tell you—it is absolutely impossible. I will not permit it! This time, I will take Wei Yingluo’s head to rectify the palace’s discipline!”

Hongli turned to leave. Halfway out, he suddenly heard a voice from behind: “Your Majesty once bestowed a marriage upon this servant—how could this servant possibly marry anyone else!”

Hongli stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around: “What did you say?”

“This servant… is willing to obey His Majesty’s decree.” Fuheng prostrated himself on the ground, concealing his pained expression. “I will marry the legitimate granddaughter of Justice Department Laibao, the Xitara clan’s Erqing.”

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