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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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 88: Misfortunes Never Come Singly

   Outside the Cleansing Department, Yuan Chunwang blocked Wei Yingluo’s path. “Where are you going?”

Wei Yingluo: “I’m going to Changchun Palace!”

Yuan Chunwang: “You’re not allowed!”

Wei Yingluo: “Brother!”

Yuan Chunwang’s expression was extremely impatient. “Haven’t you repaid what you owe the Empress yet?”

Wei Yingluo lowered her head. “The Empress is gravely ill. If she remains bedridden like this, in the future she may lose the ability to walk, or even to speak. I have to do something for her so I can have peace of mind!”

Yuan Chunwang scoffed, then pointed at the dark circles under her eyes. “Working in the Cleansing Department all day and sneaking to Changchun Palace at night—do you not want to live anymore?”

Wei Yingluo swatted his hand away. “The Empress is my mistress, my mentor, and more like an elder sister. She protected me many times, even at the risk of angering His Majesty! Without her, there would be no Wei Yingluo in this world long ago! Brother, just let me go fulfill my duty to her, please?”

Yuan Chunwang jabbed her forehead hard. “You really are a big fool!”

Wei Yingluo looked at him for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “If it were you who fell ill, I would do the same—I’d take care of you just like this!”

Yuan Chunwang froze, then asked seriously, “Would you really?”

Wei Yingluo: “Just as you carefully took care of me, I would pour the medicine straight into your mouth!”

Yuan Chunwang was never good at taking care of people. When he had fed her medicine earlier, he had stubbornly shoved spoonful after spoonful into her mouth—resulting in hardly any going in, while her clothes ended up soaked.

Hearing the teasing in her words, Yuan Chunwang was both annoyed and amused. He reached out and tugged her cheeks hard. Wei Yingluo yelped in pain, then couldn’t help laughing. “I’m leaving now!”

He watched her go, shook his head, and turned back toward the warehouse entrance—only to unexpectedly run into an unwelcome visitor. His face grimed. “Momo Liu, what are you doing here?”

Momo Liu: “This is a warehouse—what else would I be doing? Just looking for some old things from before. I’m leaving now.”

She rummaged around the warehouse, touching this and that, and finally picked up an old candlestick before departing. Behind her, Yuan Chunwang stood with arms folded, watching her retreating figure with a thoughtful gaze.

In the rear courtyard of Changchun Palace, Wei Yingluo was struggling to carry a basin of water when a hand suddenly reached out and took it from her.

Wei Yingluo: “Young Master!”

Fuheng raised a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet.

Wei Yingluo glanced around, then lowered her voice. “It’s so late—you’re supposed to be on night duty at Qianqing Palace. What are you doing here?”

Fuheng: “I was sent by His Majesty to deliver an edict to the Grand Council and slipped out quietly. And you—what are you doing here!”

Wei Yingluo: “Ming Yu is going to help wipe down the Empress’s body—I’ll assist her!”

No—don’t come!

Inside the sleeping chamber of Changchun Palace, Ming Yu stood rigidly to one side, her face stiff. From time to time she stole furtive glances toward the door outside; a layer of anxious sweat had already broken out on her forehead.

At the edge of the bed sat an uninvited guest.

Hongli gazed at the Empress’s closed, sleeping eyes and spoke in a low voice: “Empress, I have decided to pardon Wei Yingluo and allow her to return to serve you. Would that make you happy?”

The Empress lay quietly, yet her eyelashes trembled ever so slightly.

Erqing, who was attending nearby, suddenly spoke up: “Your Majesty, this is such wonderful news. This servant would like to personally tell Wei Yingluo—she will surely be overjoyed!”

A spark lit in Hongli’s eyes: “She came here tonight as well?”

Ming Yu looked at Erqing in disbelief, her eyes questioning: How do you know Yingluo is here? What are you planning to do?

How did she know?

Erqing sneered inwardly. She wasn’t a fool—she could sense when an extra person had slipped into the palace. Moreover, Ming Yu had never been good at keeping secrets. Fuheng, oh Fuheng—you really chose the wrong person to entrust with this.

As for what she intended to do—wasn’t it obvious? Erqing rose and said: “She’s in the rear courtyard. This servant will take you there.”

“No need.” Hongli stood up, looking eager and excited. “I’ll go by myself.”

Watching his retreating figure, the corners of Erqing’s mouth curved upward in an involuntary, icy smile.

When Hongli reached the rear courtyard, he caught sight of Fuheng holding a basin of water while Wei Yingluo helped roll up his sleeves. The two stood close together, chatting and laughing, their manner intimate—like a perfect pair of jade figures.

Hongli’s footsteps halted abruptly. His expression changed in an instant.

Erqing feigned surprise: “It’s so late—why is Imperial Guard Fucha here?! Your Majesty, this… this servant had no idea…”

Hongli’s gaze swept coldly over the two of them. His face grimed. Without a word or backward glance, he turned and walked away.

Li Yu was waiting outside to greet him, holding a bright yellow scroll in both hands. He said cautiously: “Your Majesty, this is the decree pardoning Wei Yingluo—”

Hongli snatched the imperial edict from his hands and hurled it heavily to the ground: “Get out!”

Misfortunes never come singly.

The very next day after Hongli discarded the decree, Momo Liu stormed into the warehouse of the Cleansing Department with a group of eunuchs, shouting fiercely: “Search!”

Wei Yingluo had only just returned from Changchun Palace; she hadn’t even had time to change out of her clothes before this happened. She frowned, staring at the eunuchs rummaging wildly everywhere.

“Search carefully!” Momo Liu’s gaze fixed on her with icy coldness. “Don’t miss a single corner!”

It didn’t take long before a eunuch returned from a corner of the warehouse, holding a wooden mannequin. Around its neck hung a rope stained with dark, mottled blood.

Momo Liu barked sharply: “Wei Yingluo—what is this?!”

Wei Yingluo was stunned.

In the study of Yangxin Hall.

   Noble Consort Xian had heard that Hongli was in a bad mood today, but she hadn’t expected it to be this bad. The pastries she had sent lay untouched to one side, already cold and devoid of steam. The entire Yangxin Hall was deathly quiet—no one dared speak loudly, no one even dared breathe too heavily.

“Greetings to Your Majesty, greetings to Niangniang.” Zhener suddenly entered from outside. After paying respects to both of them, she hurried to Noble Consort Xian’s side and whispered a few words into her ear. Noble Consort Xian furrowed her brows: “It really happened?”

Zhener nodded.

Noble Consort Xian: “Your Majesty, something has happened in the Cleansing Department. I must go and handle it. I beg leave first.”

Hongli suddenly looked up: “What could possibly happen in the Cleansing Department?”

Noble Consort Xian was surprised that Hongli showed interest: “A palace maid from the Cleansing Department was discovered practicing a curse ritual attempting to hex Your Ladyship Noble Consort.”

Hongli: “Who?”

Noble Consort Xian: “The former first-rank palace maid who once served Empress Niangniang of Changchun Palace—Wei Yingluo.”

Hongli’s expression changed dramatically: “Bring everyone here. I will interrogate them personally!”

The small wooden figure was quickly delivered into his hands.

It was an extremely crude wooden doll made of miscellaneous wood, still bearing rough splinters. Around its neck was tied a blood-stained cord. Upon closer inspection, the cord had been braided from human hair—soft, fine, and long, unmistakably a woman’s tresses.

Hongli toyed with the little wooden figure, his expression shifting unpredictably between light and shadow.

Not only was the physical evidence brought forward—the witnesses arrived as well.

Momo Liu knelt on the ground, trembling with fear and reverence: “Reporting to Your Majesty and to Niangniang: a few days ago, this servant received an anonymous letter claiming that someone was secretly cursing Noble Consort to death, and that evidence was hidden in the Cleansing Department. This servant did not believe it at first, but considering the gravity of the matter, I ordered a strict search. As a result, this doll was discovered inside the storeroom temporarily occupied by Wei Yingluo. The doll bears Noble Consort’s birth date and eight characters of fate written on it; its back is covered in bloodstains, and a hemp rope is tied around its neck. It is abundantly clear that Wei Yingluo has been secretly cursing Noble Consort all along—which is why Noble Consort suffered such a life-threatening calamity!”

Noble Consort Xian: “Wei Yingluo, what do you have to say?”

Facing this sudden disaster, how could Wei Yingluo admit to it? She immediately denied: “Someone deliberately planted this doll in the storeroom to frame this servant!”

Hongli, Noble Consort Xian Niangniang. Momo Liu cast her a sidelong glance and said darkly, “That storeroom was occupied solely by Wei Yingluo. Apart from her, who else could have buried this doll there?”

Wei Yingluo said firmly: “This servant has never done such a thing!”

“Moreover,” Momo Liu continued harshly, “after Your Ladyship Noble Consort passed away, the entire palace was filled with grief—yet she alone remained unchanged in expression, laughing and jesting as usual. Only someone who deeply hated Your Ladyship Noble Consort could behave in such a manner! Wei Yingluo, search your conscience and tell me—aren’t you exactly that kind of person?”

Before Wei Yingluo could even speak, Hongli already knew that what Momo Liu said was true.

Even if not for her own sake, then for the sake of the unconscious Empress of Changchun Palace, Wei Yingluo would hate Noble Consort Hui from the depths of her bones. And unlike others who merely harbored hatred, she would repay injury with injury—she would take revenge. For example, Dowager Consort Yu in the imperial mausoleum had offended her and ended up reduced to a pile of dry bones.

“Hmph!”

The wooden figure traced an arc through the air and landed at Wei Yingluo’s feet.

Hongli stood tall, staring down at her coldly: “The evidence is as solid as iron. You still refuse to confess?”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 87: Visiting the Sick [Part 2]

   Seeing the person who had burst into the inner courtyard of Changchun Palace, Ming Yu hurriedly curtsied:

“This servant respectfully greets Your Majesty and wishes you well!”

Hongli did not pause in his steps:

“No need to follow. I wish to be alone with the Empress for a while.”

Ming Yu was shocked:

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!”

Li Yu closed the door of the sleeping chamber behind Hongli while grumbling:

“What’s with all the shouting?”

Ming Yu anxiously looked toward the inner chamber. Shouting? Of course she was shouting—because tonight was her night on duty, and she had just let a certain someone inside…

Inside the sleeping hall, Wei Yingluo was gently moving the Empress’s wrists and joints while speaking to her:

“Empress Niangniang, Physician Ye said you cannot remain lying like this forever—it will affect your future ability to walk and recover. Niangniang, Wei Yingluo misses you so much. I want to hear your voice—even if it’s to scold me, anything is fine. Please open your eyes, all right?”

The Empress lay peacefully, showing no sign of waking. Wei Yingluo’s heart ached with sorrow. Just then, she suddenly heard footsteps.

Hongli strode hurriedly into the sleeping chamber. The hall was empty save for the Empress lying on the bed.

Strange—he must have misheard. He had clearly heard voices inside and thought the Empress had awakened…

False hope. Hongli let out a soft sigh, slowly sat down beside the Empress, gazed at her quietly for a moment, and took her hand:

“Empress, I want to talk to someone, but in this vast Forbidden City, I can’t find a single person willing to listen to me. If only you were awake right now—how wonderful that would be.”

The Empress’s expression remained serene and gentle. Hongli sighed again:

“So many things have happened in the palace lately. Noble Consort Hui has passed away. She entered Prince Bao’s household at fourteen and accompanied me for twelve years. I know she longed desperately for care and love, but all I could give her was the title of Imperial Noble Consort. Her departure saddens me deeply, but if I had to do it all over again, I would still make the same choice.”

The Empress’s eyelashes trembled ever so slightly, as though she were on the verge of waking.

Hongli said in pleasant surprise: “Empress! Empress, you can hear me speaking, can’t you?”

After a long pause with no further response from the Empress, Hongli’s voice filled with disappointment: “Empress, even you think I’m cold-blooded and heartless, don’t you? I treated you poorly… and I treated Noble Consort poorly as well…”

As he spoke, Hongli suddenly noticed the bed curtain tremble slightly. He abruptly fell silent. A moment later, he continued as if nothing had happened: “Empress, I still have matters to attend to. I’ll come keep you company and talk tomorrow.”

Hongli stood up and turned to leave.

Wei Yingluo, covering her mouth, remained crouched under the bed. Even after the footsteps faded, she stayed frozen in place—until Ming Yu’s voice came from outside: “You can come out now.”

Only then did Wei Yingluo crawl out from under the bed. “Has that annoying ghost finally left?”

She froze.

Standing at the edge of the bed were two people: one was Ming Yu, looking extremely awkward, and the other was Hongli, his face dark with anger. He looked down at her from above and said coldly, “What do you think?”

Wei Yingluo shot a fierce glare at Ming Yu. Ming Yu mouthed silently: “I was forced!”

Hongli: “Get out!”

Wei Yingluo and Ming Yu both started walking out together. Halfway there, Hongli’s furious voice rang out behind her: “Wei Yingluo—you stay!”

Wei Yingluo had no choice but to stop.

Once Ming Yu had left, Hongli asked coldly: “Why were you hiding here?”

Wei Yingluo: “This servant came to visit the Empress Niangniang. When I heard footsteps, in a moment of panic I hid under the bed.”

Hongli: “Who gave you permission to sneak in here!”

Wei Yingluo said in a low voice: “Your Majesty, this servant missed the Empress Niangniang!”

Hongli was momentarily stunned—he hadn’t expected such directness from her. In the end he only scoffed with icy disdain: “You should indeed feel gratitude toward the Empress—and even deeper fear. Without her protection, I could have you killed at any moment!”

Wei Yingluo started in alarm, then suddenly cried out: “Your Majesty! The Empress Niangniang’s hand moved!”

Hongli’s face lit up with joy. He hurried forward: “Empress! Empress—”

He called for a long time, but the Empress remained exactly as before—not so much as a twitch of her hand, not even an eyebrow moved. Suddenly Hongli turned around—only to find the space behind him empty. Wei Yingluo had vanished without a trace!

“That little slippery rascal!” Hongli shouted in fury, but then couldn’t help shaking his head and chuckling helplessly.

After spending a little more time with the Empress, Hongli left the bedchamber. Ming Yu was already kneeling outside, full of anxiety: “Your Majesty, this servant will never again let Wei Yingluo in!”

Hongli said coldly: “Where is she?”

Ming Yu hesitated, opening and closing her mouth.

Hongli: “Do I need to ask again?”

Ming Yu stammered: “In… in the rear courtyard.”

In the rear courtyard of Changchun Palace, Wei Yingluo came out carrying a bowl of medicinal tea. She ran straight into Hongli and inwardly cursed—Ming Yu had sold her out again. She quickly dropped to her knees: “Your Majesty, this servant is guilty.”

Hongli casually sat down to one side: “What are you holding?”

Wei Yingluo: “It’s the prescription from Physician Ye. This servant wanted to do something for the Empress Niangniang, so I asked for this errand.”

Hongli smiled slightly. “You are truly loyal and devoted to the Empress!”

Wei Yingluo: “Your Majesty, the Empress also has a sincere heart toward you!”

Hongli: “In the end, what real difference is there between the women of the inner palace?”

Wei Yingluo: “Your Majesty, the Empress is different!”

Hongli: “I know—the Empress wants true affection. But why doesn’t she consider that the body of the sovereign is entrusted with the lives of millions upon millions of subjects? The ruler of all under Heaven—how could he possibly have the leisure for sentimental love affairs?”

Wei Yingluo: “Is Your Majesty saying that the consorts and concubines are shortsighted, that they fail to understand and show consideration?”

Hongli: “Am I wrong? Right now floods rage unchecked, countless refugees wander homeless. I have poured the strength of the entire nation into controlling the rivers, yet those river officials layer one false report upon another, lining their own pockets! The refugees outside the city are merely the tiniest fraction of the total! My heart burns with anxiety; I cannot sleep day or night. And what is the inner palace doing in the meantime?”

Wei Yingluo: “Your Majesty, from the moment a girl is born, she is confined to a single patch of sky. Even after marriage, she merely exchanges one cage for another. They are pampered orioles and mynas raised in luxury—how could they possibly have the broad vision and soaring freedom of an eagle sweeping across the four seas? Don’t forget: it is the men of the world who forged these cages with such painstaking care!”

Hongli said coldly: “Insolent!”

Wei Yingluo: “This servant has spoken out of turn. Please forgive me, Your Majesty!”

Hongli was about to lose his temper, but he held it back. “I must be confused to discuss such things with an ignorant palace maid like you!”

Hongli turned to leave.

Wei Yingluo: “Silently listen to the distant palace water-clock tolling long; in quiet retreat, for a moment set aside the myriad affairs of state. Though no poem delights in this clear scene, happily the plum branches send their cold fragrance.”

Hongli spun around sharply. “You can recite my poetry?”

Wei Yingluo: “After the Empress finished teaching me the Four Books and Five Classics, she began teaching Your Majesty’s poems and writings. I kept protesting, but the Empress insisted on teaching them anyway! She told me that since Your Majesty ascended the throne, you have governed with generosity and leniency: abolishing land reclamation taxes, halting miscellaneous levies, emphasizing agriculture and sericulture, redressing miscarriages of justice, and rescuing the people from flood and fire. Therefore, she says, you are a good emperor!”

Hongli: “The Empress really said that?”

Wei Yingluo nodded.

Hongli: “I want to be a wise ruler, but reality keeps telling me how difficult it truly is. This empire is like a great ship. I want to steer it well, yet I am repeatedly frustrated and veer off course.”

Wei Yingluo: “There was once a folk song in Wu: ‘Qianlong treasures, increase longevity; Qianlong coins, ten thousand years.’ I know the country is vast and affairs are many, but if Your Majesty handles them one by one—even if the results are not perfect—you will always be able to hold your head high with no shame before Heaven!”

Hongli gazed at her steadily, as though astonished and shaken. “No shame before Heaven… I will remember those four words!”

Seeing Hongli’s expression soften, Wei Yingluo quickly added: “Actually, the Empress can recite all of Your Majesty’s poems and writings backward from memory!”

Hongli: “Why?”

Wei Yingluo: “Not because Your Majesty’s talent is extraordinary, but because the Empress wants to understand Your Majesty’s thoughts and feelings. If Your Majesty would only share all your difficulties with the Empress, how could there be no kindred spirit in all the world?”

Hongli laughed despite himself. “You went to such great lengths just to speak up for the Empress—she certainly hasn’t favored you in vain! No—say that again!”

Wei Yingluo: “If Your Majesty would confide your troubles to the Empress, how could there be no one who truly understands you?”

Hongli: “Not that part! You said you kept protesting, and then said it wasn’t because of my poetic talent—what exactly did you mean?”

Wei Yingluo froze.

Hongli: “Wei Yingluo, you dare to look down on me—”

Wei Yingluo cried out urgently: “The Empress is still waiting! This servant begs leave first!”

Wei Yingluo hurried away. Hongli watched her retreating figure, pondered for a moment, then couldn’t help but smile.

“Set off, return to the palace!”

After leaving Changchun Palace, the imperial palanquin carried Hongli back to Yangxin Hall.

The palanquin swayed gently for a moment before Hongli suddenly opened his eyes. “Li Yu.”

Li Yu: “This servant is here!”

Hongli hesitated for a moment. “Have I… been too harsh toward Wei Yingluo?”

Only now you realize? Li Yu rolled his eyes inwardly, but aloud he said, “Thunder and gentle rain are both the grace of the sovereign. No matter how you treat her, she must endure it.”

His flattery missed the mark. Hongli shook his head and said, “Thinking it over carefully, I have indeed been somewhat harsh toward Wei Yingluo. The Empress was right—she does have her redeeming qualities.”

Li Yu was stunned. “Your Majesty, this… are you planning to pardon her?”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 86: Visiting the Sick [Part 1]

   Noble Consort Hui’s death was bad news for some, but for others, it was the greatest piece of good fortune imaginable.

Inside the warehouse of the Cleansing Division, Yuan Chunwang was feeding medicine to Wei Yingluo while saying, “His Majesty ordered a strict investigation, but all the craftsmen stubbornly insisted they knew nothing. The ‘Myriad Purples and Reds’ was prepared for the Empress Dowager’s birthday celebration. Moreover, with Noble Consort Hui’s death, neither event could tolerate any bloodshed. In the end, the matter will simply be dropped, and they’ll be released back to civilian life. They’ll be safe… and so will you.”

“Noble Consort Hui actually died?” Wei Yingluo hadn’t expected that arrogant and domineering woman to pass away from a single injury. Truly, the affairs of the world are unpredictable. She couldn’t help frowning, full of worry. “I wonder how the Empress is doing…”

Yuan Chunwang stuffed another spoonful of medicine into her mouth. “Instead of worrying about others, you’d be better off worrying about yourself. Just focus on recovering!”

Wei Yingluo choked, then said irritably, “I’m not going to die!”

“Of course you’re not going to die.” Yuan Chunwang fed her another spoonful. “I’m a very practical person. Every single mouthful of congee you eat, I expect repayment for. Until you’ve paid me back in full, you absolutely cannot die!”

Wei Yingluo was both annoyed and amused. “You’ve already been promoted to head steward—do you still need repayment from me?”

Yuan Chunwang scoffed with icy disdain while stirring the spoon. “There are eight major and minor stewards in the Cleansing Division. Do you think I’ll stop here?”

Wei Yingluo rolled her eyes. “Brother, your ambition is truly boundless.”

Yuan Chunwang: “Of course—wait, what did you just call me?”

Wei Yingluo immediately changed the subject. “What kind of congee is this? It tastes bitter!”

Yuan Chunwang stared at her, stubbornly insisting on an answer. “What did you just call me?”

He kept asking the same question over and over, clearly determined not to let it go. Finally, Wei Yingluo had no choice but to sigh and say, “You risked your life to cover for me. This ‘older brother’—I call you that with all my heart. From now on, I am your sworn younger sister. We’ll share blessings together and face hardships together!”

Yuan Chunwang narrowed his eyes and tsked twice. “Other people swear brotherhood with a formal ceremony facing heaven and earth, and you’re just going to dismiss me like this?”

Wei Yingluo glared at him. “Facing heaven and earth is for husband and wife. Sworn brotherhood is done by burning incense and kowtowing!”

Yuan Chunwang laughed. “In any case, we need to exchange pledge papers first. I need your birth chart and eight characters, and we have to set up the tablets for heaven and earth!”

Wei Yingluo: “We’ve already fallen to this miserable state—keep it simple, keep it simple.”

“Simple what?” Yuan Chunwang flicked her forehead with his finger. “In this lifetime I’m only taking one younger sister—I can’t do it half-heartedly. Later you’re going to write out your birth pledge!”

Wei Yingluo clutched her forehead. “Brother, that’s not called a ‘birth pledge’—it’s called a ‘golden orchid pledge’!”

Yuan Chunwang smiled nonchalantly, unhurriedly feeding her another spoonful of medicine. “I said it’s a gengtie, so it’s a gengtie. Finish eating, then write it!”

For some reason, he was unusually insistent on this matter. That very afternoon, he somehow procured brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, and—treating it like an official document—forced Wei Yingluo to write him a gengtie… no, a jinlan tie (a sworn-sisterhood pact).

With no choice, Wei Yingluo wrote it. While writing, she casually asked about the Empress’s condition. Yuan Chunwang only replied that it was “passable.”

Passable—what did that even mean? Was the Empress getting better or not? That night, Wei Yingluo tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Finally, gritting her teeth, she threw on her outer robe, got up, and cautiously slipped out of the Yong Lane, heading toward Changchun Palace.

Having come from Changchun Palace herself, she was intimately familiar with everything inside.

For example, tonight the person on night duty was Zhenzhu.

“You…” Wei Yingluo passed by her and sighed helplessly. “Always falling asleep before the second watch!”

After avoiding Zhenzhu, Wei Yingluo reached the window outside the sleeping chamber. With a flip, she vaulted over the sill—but then found herself stuck, one foot dangling in midair, unable to find the floor.

Until a pair of strong hands reached out from behind her, catching her as gently as one might catch falling petals from the sky. They steadied her waist and lowered her safely to the ground.

Wei Yingluo turned in surprise. “…Ah, Young Master.”

Fuheng’s smile shone brightly under the moonlight. “You were once the Empress’s senior palace maid. Coming to visit your former mistress shows you haven’t forgotten your roots—you could have walked in through the main gate openly and uprightly. Why sneak around climbing through windows like a thief?”

Wei Yingluo hesitated. “I…”

A warm finger gently pressed against her lips. Fuheng spoke with perfect understanding: “Enough. No matter what, since I’ve already caught you, there’s no need to keep sneaking about. Come openly and honestly from now on!”

Wei Yingluo turned her face away in a fit of pique. “Then I won’t come at all.”

She truly didn’t want to get entangled with him anymore. She turned to leave, had just climbed back onto the windowsill—when he pulled her back down into his arms. Furious and embarrassed, she gritted her teeth. “Fucha Fuheng, what exactly do you want?!”

Fuheng suddenly leaned close to her ear and whispered, “In the future, on nights when Ming Yu is on duty, the sleeping chamber will be empty at the hour of zi (11 p.m.–1 a.m.). You can come visit the Empress then.”

Wei Yingluo froze.

Fuheng continued, “Remember—only at the hour of zi. Alright, climb back out now!”

Wei Yingluo choked with anger. Like a little monkey she scrambled back onto the windowsill—then regretted it. She turned her head and huffed, “Hmph! I finally came all this way to see Her Ladyship. At least let me take one look before I go!”

A hand reached out behind her, as though he had already anticipated she would say exactly that, already anticipated she would turn back.

Wei Yingluo stared hesitantly at that hand.

“How much longer do I have to wait?” Fuheng said gently. “You don’t want to face His Majesty—I won’t force you. You want to stay in the Cleansing Department—I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait until you can let go of old grudges, put down your burdens. No matter how long it takes—even if it takes my whole life—I will wait until the end.”

If he hadn’t said those words, Wei Yingluo might have taken his hand. But after hearing such a confession, her whole body suddenly felt hot. The hand in her vision seemed scalding hot; just looking at it made her cheeks burn. If she actually held it, wouldn’t her entire body catch fire?

“…Wh-what are you saying? I’m leaving.” She turned her face away awkwardly, scrambled over the windowsill in a panic, and fled.

Fuheng watched her retreating figure and shook his head with a rueful smile.

The bead curtain swayed. Ming Yu stepped out from behind it. “Guard Fucha…”

Fuheng turned around. “Ming Yu, thank you.”

Ming Yu bit her lip. “You don’t need to thank me. But… about Noble Consort… was it really her…?”

“Ming Yu!” Fuheng suddenly interrupted her and gave a small shake of his head.

Ming Yu: “Fine, fine, fine—I won’t ask! She still comes to visit the Empress, so she has some conscience after all. In the future, when I’m on duty, I’ll quietly let her in. You don’t need to worry.”

The two chatted for a few more sentences, then Ming Yu returned to the room to continue tending to the Empress, leaving Fuheng alone by the bedside. He gazed at the window through which Wei Yingluo had departed, his expression filled with worry.

The moon sank past the window; the sun rose beyond it. Another new day had arrived.

Just as Noble Consort Hui’s death brought joy to some and sorrow to others, the Empress’s prolonged illness likewise caused delight in some hearts and grief in others.

In the inner courtyard of Chengqian Palace, a crowd knelt on the ground. The decree-delivering eunuch unrolled the imperial scroll and intoned:

“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Consort Xian, of the Nala clan—gentle by nature, endowed with grace and virtue—is hereby elevated to Noble Consort, in manifestation of imperial favor. So it is decreed.”

Consort Xian prostrated herself deeply, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Your humble servant thanks Your Majesty for this great grace.”

The eunuch rolled up the scroll and, with an ingratiating expression, said:

“Noble Consort Xian Niangniang, congratulations!”

Noble Consort Xian nodded slightly. Zhener immediately stepped forward with the reward. Several ingots of pure silver slipped into the eunuch’s sleeve; his smile grew even wider.

“Thank you for the generous reward, Noble Consort Xian Niangniang. Oh yes—His Majesty has specially instructed the Imperial Medical Bureau to prepare a jar of Amber Jade Face Ointment. I hear it is made by grinding amber powder and mixing it with cinnabar and the spinal marrow of the white badger. Applied daily, it promotes rapid healing of wounds and has an excellent scar-removing effect. It should be delivered very soon. His Majesty truly cares deeply for Niangniang.”

Sure enough, before long another group of eunuchs arrived at Chengqian Palace, bearing His Majesty’s gift—the Amber Jade Face Ointment.

After seeing the eunuchs off, Zhener spoke to Noble Consort Xian with great excitement:

“This servant heard that it was the Empress Dowager herself who personally requested this promotion for you.”

“Is that so?” Noble Consort Xian smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying.

“Yes—and His Majesty agreed without a moment’s hesitation! It shows just how special your position is in the hearts of both of them—different from anyone else! Now that Noble Consort is gone and the Empress remains unconscious, the affairs of the inner palace will all fall under your authority. You must take very good care of your health.”

As she spoke, Zhener unscrewed the lid of the Amber Jade Face Ointment jar.

“Niangniang, let me apply the medicine for you.”

Unexpectedly, Noble Consort Xian suddenly reached out, snatched the jar from her hand, and casually poured its contents into a nearby potted plant.

Zhener cried out in alarm:

“Niangniang! This Amber Jade Face Ointment is extremely precious—how can you just throw it away like that? If scars really form, you’ll regret it too late!”

The soil in the pot seemed like a greedy mouth, greedily absorbing the medicinal liquid drop by drop. Noble Consort Xian lowered her head to watch the scene and murmured with a faint, eerie smile:

“This palace wants to keep the scars—deeply etched into His Majesty’s heart—so that he will never be able to forget that this palace was injured for his sake.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 85: Noble Consort Farewell, My Lord

   Hearing these words, Gao Ningxiang’s face lit up with undisguised joy. Gao Ningxiu was a little better at controlling herself. Though she felt the same delight inside, she could still restrain it, keeping a worried expression on her face:

“Your Ladyship Noble Consort, none of this is urgent right now. The most important thing is for you to recover your health.”

Noble Consort Hui smiled and raised her wine cup:

“This is lotus-flower wine, brewed with care during midsummer. Fresh lotus stamens were picked, steeped in water from the Jade Spring, and meticulously fermented. My two little sisters—please have a taste.”

Having received her favors, how could the two of them dare refuse her toast? They both raised their cups and drank. Even Gao Ningxiu, who was never good at drinking, downed it in one gulp, then coughed twice and said, “Your Ladyship Noble Consort, the fine wine in this palace really is pure and mellow, with a deep and lingering aftertaste.”

Noble Consort Hui glanced at her. “Third Sister, I have always treated you both with cold indifference. Do you not resent me for it?”

Gao Ningxiu replied, “Father once said that no matter how much discord there may be between us sisters, we are still one family — when one prospers, all prosper; when one suffers, all suffer. Your Ladyship Noble Consort once misunderstood us and created a rift, but now haven’t you come to see things clearly?”

Noble Consort Hui gave a half-smile that was not quite a smile. “Yes, I understand all too clearly now! In the Tang Dynasty, when Empress Wu Zetian was young, she was bullied by her half-brothers. Once she gained power, she demoted and killed those two brothers! Lady Qi tormented me and my brother, and when Grandfather discovered it, she expelled them from the Gao family. Then when your mother, Lady Ma, entered the household, she secretly continued the bullying! My long years of infertility were all because Lady Ma forced me, in the depths of winter, to pray in the snow during the twelfth month. My elder brother married a shrewish wife and suffered setbacks in his official career — that too was Lady Ma’s interference! And the two of you — so young, yet you already knew how to falsely accuse your elder siblings, vie for favor, and frame us. Have you forgotten all of that?”

The two sisters’ faces changed color at once. Gao Ningxiang was just about to speak when suddenly — “wah” — she vomited a large mouthful of black blood.

“Sister, what’s wrong with you?” Gao Ningxiu cried out in shock. She reached out to support her, but suddenly felt a sweetness in her own throat. A thread of fresh blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it with her hand, looked down at her sister now collapsed and rolling on the floor, then whipped her head toward Noble Consort Hui. “It was you! You poisoned the wine! Why? We are your own blood sisters!”

Noble Consort Hui threw her head back and laughed loudly. The bright moon-shaped earrings on her ears swayed with her laughter. “That old bastard Gao Bin — I stopped caring about him long ago! But if the two of you were to rise in power, my brother would suffer the same calamity as Lady Wu did! To protect him — to protect the only blood relative I has left in this world — I gave up my chance at revenge and left my final days to you two. Isn’t that touching? Hahahahaha!”

Gao Ningxiang had drunk the most. Besides the cup Noble Consort Hui personally toasted her with, she had poured and downed several more cups herself afterward. The poison therefore struck her the hardest. She writhed in agony on the floor for several turns, then her head lolled to one side, eyes wide open in death. Gao Ningxiu pressed one hand to her twisting, cramping stomach and used the other to support herself against the table as she rose.

“Save… save me… Mother!” Gao Ningxiu staggered a few steps toward the door. Before she could escape, she vomited another great mouthful of blood that sprayed across the carved wooden door like a red peony suddenly bursting into bloom.

In the outer hall, Lady Ma was drinking tea. Suddenly she set down her cup. “What was that sound?”

Zhilan calmly placed a plate of snacks before her. “It must be Niangniang talking with the two young misses.”

Perhaps it was the bond between mother and children — Lady Ma clutched her chest, feeling her heart pounding violently. Unable to sit still any longer, she stood up. “I’m going to take a look.”

Ignoring Zhilan’s attempts to stop her, she rushed straight to the bedchamber and pushed open the carved door. When she saw the scene inside, she let out a heart-rending, soul-tearing scream: “Aaaah——”

Two women who had just moments ago been vibrant and beautiful now lay collapsed in pools of blood, one to the left and one to the right — no breath left in them, like two flowers that had helplessly fallen from the branch.

Noble Consort Hui sat behind them, slowly twirling the wine cup in her hand. She gave Lady Ma a sweet, gentle smile.

“You actually killed your own younger sisters!” Lady Ma threw herself forward. “You vile woman! How can there be someone as wicked as you in this world? Give me back my daughters!”

“Seize her!” Zhilan shouted from behind.

The palace servants of Changchun Palace immediately rushed out and dragged her away. All the way, Lady Ma struggled and screamed curses: “You will descend into the eighteenth layer of hell! Heaven will never forgive you!”

“Niangniang…” After the door was closed, Zhilan approached Noble Consort Hui.

Noble Consort Hui drained the last of the wine in her cup in one swallow. “Is everything prepared?”

Zhilan lifted a jade tray on which lay a length of snow-white silk cord.

Casually tossing the cup behind her, Noble Consort Hui stood up, gazed at the beam overhead, and gave a free and easy smile. She sang in the theatrical style of an opera:

“Alas, enough, enough… This pear tree is where I, Yang Yuhuan, shall bear my final fruit. I, Yang Yuhuan, kowtow in gratitude for the Emperor’s grace. From this day forth, we shall never meet again!”

Tears streamed down Zhilan’s face. “Niangniang!”

Noble Consort Hui took up the white silk, raised her hand, and flung it — like an actor on stage casting a long flowing water sleeve. In a drawn-out, melodious voice she sang:

“My Saintly Majesty… my one life shall end beneath the Yellow Springs, yet my spirit shall forever follow beneath your yellow dragon banner…”

The white silk flew over the beam. Noble Consort Hui slowly tied it into a noose, stepped onto a chair, slipped the slender noose around her long, graceful neck, closed her eyes, and smiled:

“Flowers in profusion, lush and radiant beauty of face. Clouds recall garments gleaming bright. Who else dons new makeup like this — alas, the tender, languid Flying Swallow. A famous flower, a national beauty, smiling gently, ever receiving the Emperor’s gaze. In the spring breeze she dispels the spring sorrow; together we lean on the balustrade this Gao Ningxier … Your Majesty, farewell.”

With a kick, the chair toppled sideways.

Zhilan closed her eyes and bowed deeply to her.

“Your Majesty.”

The doors of the Yangxin Hall opened, and Li Yu walked in from outside.

Hongli was holding his brush and writing, but he was not reviewing memorials—instead, he was copying the Heart Sutra for someone.

“Your Majesty.” Li Yu bowed to him. “Noble Consort Hui has passed away!”

The brush tip paused, and a large blot of ink spread across the paper. Hongli remained silent for a long while before slowly speaking: “Issue an edict: Noble Consort Hui was born into a distinguished family, assisted in governing the inner palace, was filial and virtuous by nature, gentle and respectful in conduct. She is hereby posthumously promoted to Imperial Noble Consort to commend her virtuous character. The funeral rites for Imperial Noble Consort shall be jointly handled by the Ministry of Rites, the Ministry of Works, and the Imperial Household Department.”

Li Yu: “Yes, Your Majesty!”

Hongli: “Everyone, leave.”

All the eunuchs withdrew.

Hongli set down his brush and slowly leaned back in his chair. The room was deathly quiet, yet in his ears drifted the distant, enchanting sound of opera singing.

“Flowers in profusion, luxuriant and gorgeous, recalling her countenance. Clouds recall her radiant robes, dazzling and bright. Who could rival her fresh makeup? Alas, the delicate and languid Flying Swallow. A famous flower of national beauty, smiling gently, always receiving the emperor’s gaze. To the spring breeze she explains away spring sorrow, leaning together on the railing of the Agarwood Pavilion.” The song was tender and poignant, as though a pair of hands were embracing him from behind, softly and affectionately saying, “Your Majesty, you’ve come…”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 84: The Final Wish

   In Chengqian Palace the red candles burned high.

In Chuxiu Palace, however, white candles were lit one after another.

Coupled with the increasingly desolate atmosphere of Chuxiu Palace, stepping inside felt like entering a funeral hall.

“Zhilan.” Noble Consort Hui sat on the bed, dressed entirely in white, her long hair hanging loose over her body. Her tone was eerily calm. “Fetch water. I want to bathe and change clothes.”

“Niangniang…” Zhilan looked at her in both shock and fear, terrified that she had already lost her mind. She spoke cautiously, “Please don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”

“Since even Ye Tianshi could not cure this palace, no one else can. Even if they could, this palace would still be left covered in scars.” Noble Consort Hui slowly turned her head to look at her. A ruthless determination—to break like jade rather than live like tile—flickered faintly in her eyes. “Hurry and prepare. This palace doesn’t have much time left.”

Fetching water was easy; bathing with such severe injuries was difficult. Although Zhilan tried her utmost to avoid the wounds, the injury on Noble Consort Hui’s back was so large that some water inevitably touched it. The pain made sweat bead on her forehead and her face turn deathly pale. By the time the bath was finished, she had already lost half her vitality and lay across the bronze mirror like a corpse.

While combing her hair, Zhilan wept and said, “Niangniang, please forget about it. Your health is the most important. Once your body recovers, there will still be time to deal with that wretch Consort Xian.”

“No… I don’t have much time left. I can’t waste any more of it on her.”

Noble Consort Hui slowly raised her head, staring at her own pale and haggard reflection in the mirror. With a trembling hand, she opened a box of rouge, hooked a bit of the remaining red with her pinky, and slowly applied it to her lips.

“Go… Go invite His Majesty to come.”

With tears in her eyes, Zhilan ran all the way to the Yangxin Hall, only to be told that the Emperor was staying at Chengqian Palace tonight. So she turned and ran again, heading toward Chengqian Palace.

Thinking of Noble Consort Hui in Chuxiu Palace, barely clinging to life with just one breath left, and then looking at Consort Xian, who was currently basking in the Emperor’s favor, a surge of poisonous resentment flashed through Zhilan’s eyes. For a moment she almost exposed the woman’s true face right then and there.

But the words reached her lips and were swallowed back down.

She glanced at the hand wrapped around Consort Xian’s waist… Even if she said it, would he believe her?

“Your Majesty.” Zhilan knelt before the owner of that hand and sobbed, “Your Ladyship Noble Consort wishes to see you. She says… it will be the last time.”

Hongli froze. “Isn’t Noble Consort recuperating in Chuxiu Palace? What do you mean ‘the last time’?”

Zhilan sobbed even harder. “Your Majesty, Master Ye Tianshi said that Your Ladyship Noble Consort’s illness cannot be cured. Noble Consort she…”

Hongli’s expression changed dramatically. Before she could finish, he sat up from the bed and strode quickly toward the door.

Behind him, Consort Xian opened her mouth, but in the end said nothing. She only watched him leave with a complicated look in her eyes.

Hongli hurried to Chuxiu Palace. The palace was deathly silent; all the palace maids and eunuchs who usually attended her had long been dismissed by Noble Consort Hui.

Pushing open the door, he saw Noble Consort Hui, dressed in snow-white robes, sitting upright beneath the candlelight. Her face was heavily made up, with long, finely drawn eyebrows and lips painted the color of vermilion — like an actress on stage, fully costumed and waiting for the sovereign to appraise her performance.

She slowly raised her head and said softly, “Your Majesty, you’ve come.”

Hongli took several steps forward and reached out to support her. “Noble Consort, instead of resting properly, what are you doing now?”

Noble Consort Hui gently pushed his hand away. “I know my days are numbered. I wish to dance one final dance for Your Majesty. I hope that one day, when I am gone, you will still remember how I look at this moment… and never forget me.”

Hongli was stunned. “Noble Consort…”

She lifted her head to look at him, then gave a gentle smile — filled with both seductive charm and heartbreaking sorrow. “Perhaps I have always been lost in my own play, never truly awake. Please allow me to be willful one last time.”

With that, Noble Consort Hui slowly rose, forcing her failing body to dance for Hongli.

Like a mermaid who had crawled ashore, like a celestial crane with broken wings — every step dripped blood, every bend of the waist pierced her heart. This desperate, dying dance surpassed every performance she had ever given before. Its tragic and majestic beauty held Hongli’s gaze from beginning to end, as if a mortal had been bewitched by a mermaid, or a monk ensnared by a demonic crane.

Only when the dance finally ended did Hongli realize that her white robes had long been soaked through with blood.

“Ning Xin’er!” Hongli rushed forward and caught her in his arms, deeply moved. “Rest and recover properly. From now on, Zhen will treat you well. Let us forget all the unpleasant things, alright?”

Noble Consort Hui leaned against his chest, breathing heavily for a moment before slowly raising her sweat-drenched face. She reached out and gently touched Hongli’s cheek.

“No, Your Majesty. It’s too late. Ning Xin’er cannot wait any longer. As the saying goes, ‘When a person is about to die, their words are kind.’ There is one thing I begs of you!”

Hongli’s heart ached unbearably. “I will definitely find the culprit for you!”

Noble Consort Hui shook her head. “That no longer matters to me…”

Hongli asked, “Then what do you want?”

At that moment, if Noble Consort Hui had asked to sit on the Empress’s throne — even for a short while — Hongli would have hesitated and seriously considered it, instead of immediately rejecting her as he once would have, scolding her for delusional fantasies.

Yet Noble Consort Hui only said mournfully, “I know that although Your Majesty is lord of all under Heaven, you cannot interfere in the private affairs of your subjects. That is why I never asked for anything before… Back then, I was still dreaming — dreaming that one day, when I became Empress, I could openly confer posthumous honors on Mother, give her a grand burial! I wanted the entire Gao clan to wear mourning for her, kowtow, and apologize to her! But dreams are only dreams… Now, this concubine can only shamelessly beg Your Majesty to grant my mother a proper funeral, so her soul will not wander homeless forever.”

Hongli was silent for a moment, then said firmly, “Very well. I promise you.”

A single tear hung at the corner of Noble Consort Hui’s eye. With her wish granted, she let out a soft sigh of relief.

“My father is far away, thousands of li from here. I wish to see my two younger sisters. I beg Your Majesty’s grace — allow them to enter the palace!”

Hongli: “I will immediately issue a decree summoning the Gao family into the palace!”

The imperial edict reached the Gao residence. Before dawn had even broken, a carriage was already waiting outside the palace gates. As soon as the gates opened, Lady Ma stepped down from the carriage, leading her two flower-like, jade-beautiful daughters. They were guided by a eunuch straight to Chuxiu Palace.

“Mother,” Gao Ningxiu quietly asked her mother, “I heard that Big Brother also wanted to come, but Big Sister refused him. Why?”

Gao Heng and Noble Consort Hui were full siblings born of the same mother, raised together through hardship and mutual dependence. Their bond was naturally far deeper than what she and her half-sister could share with them. Upon hearing that Noble Consort Hui was gravely ill, Gao Heng had nearly rushed into the palace overnight, only to be turned away by the messenger eunuch, who said that Your Ladyship Noble Consort only wished to see her two younger sisters.

“What other reason could there be?” Lady Ma gave a light laugh. “The Gao family’s favor cannot be broken. Your eldest sister wants to find someone to take her place—naturally she can’t choose a man like him…”

They soon arrived at Chuxiu Palace. Zhilan was already waiting outside the door. Seeing the three of them approach, she stepped aside gracefully and said:

“You two young misses, Your Ladyship Noble Consort is waiting for you inside.”

Lady Ma also wanted to follow them in, but Zhilan subtly blocked her way. With no other choice, she could only give her daughters a few final instructions and watch as they entered.

The carved wooden doors opened to both sides, revealing a square table laden with fine wine and exquisite dishes—and one peerlessly beautiful woman.

“You’ve come,” Noble Consort Hui said lightly.

On her head was a magnificent peony-shaped ceremonial headdress in full bloom; from her ears hung long East Pearl tassels; around her arms were strings of emerald beads. Her five-colored brocade robe shimmered with pearls and jewels, exuding an overwhelming aura of nobility and splendor. If there had ever been any flaw in her appearance before, it was that her presence had always been too sharp, too dazzling. Now, the slight pallor on her face added a touch of fragile, pitiable softness—making her utterly flawless, peerless in the world.

Even the two young women were momentarily stunned by her beauty, only recovering after a long pause.

Gao Ningxiang asked curiously: “Big Sister, weren’t you supposed to be gravely ill? How come you don’t look sick at all?”

Gao Ningxiu quickly tugged at her: “Mind your manners! You must address her as Your Ladyship Noble Consort.”

“Your Ladyship Noble Consort,” Gao Ningxiang corrected herself immediately. “The entire Forbidden City is saying you suffered terrible injuries and are bedridden, unable to rise. But from what I see, you are still as radiantly beautiful as ever—utterly breathtaking.”

Noble Consort Hui smiled slightly, gesturing for her to come closer. She personally poured her a cup of wine.

“My two little sisters,” she said, then poured another cup for Gao Ningxiu, “I am indeed seriously injured. Even putting on these clothes took a full hour. I’ve only been sitting for a short while, yet my undergarments are already soaked with sweat, and my whole body trembles.”

Gao Ningxiang was horrified: “Niangniang, does it really hurt that much?”

Noble Consort Hui smiled: “Every breath I take feels like steel needles piercing bone—unbearable pain. Every step is like walking on razor blades, blood flowing freely.”

Gao Ningxiu said worriedly: “We are all one family. Niangniang need not rush to host a banquet. Whatever you wish to say can wait until later.”

Noble Consort Hui: “I do not have much time left—we cannot afford to waste it. I’m sure my two little sisters are curious why I summoned you here.”

Gao Ningxiang: “Mother said you were…”

Gao Ningxiu quickly silenced her: “Be quiet!”

Gao Ningxiang, frank and outspoken by nature: “It’s true, isn’t it? Mother said the Gao family’s favor cannot be allowed to end. Since your health has failed, someone new must be chosen to take your place!”

Gao Ningxiu shot her a glare, inwardly furious at her sister’s foolishness. Even if the matter really was as she said, one should still know how to carry the sedan chair properly—speak carefully. Noble Consort Hui was an arrogant and domineering person. If she were angered, something that might have succeeded could easily fall apart…

Quietly stepping on her disappointing younger sister’s foot, Gao Ningxiu looked at Noble Consort Hui with slight apprehension, trying to think of how to salvage the situation. But then she heard Noble Consort Hui let out a long sigh:

“Mother is right. I am clearly not going to last much longer. Of course I must choose one of my two little sisters—the most suitable one—to take my place in attending to His Majesty and continue the Gao family’s glory.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 83: Golden Juice

   Inside Chuxiu Palace, palace maids hurried in and out. Basins of clear water were carried in, only to be carried out again as basins of bloody water.

Noble Consort Hui lay face-down on the bed. Her originally smooth, jade-like back was now pitted and scarred like muddy ground after rain. Fresh blood sprouted like new shoots, continuously welling up from the wounds.

“It hurts… it hurts so much…” Noble Consort Hui reached one hand toward her back. “It itches… it itches so badly…”

“Niangniang, don’t touch it!” Zhilan was drenched in sweat beside her. “Please, don’t touch it… Ah! Physician Ye! Physician Ye, you’re finally here!”

Ye Tianshi—once a renowned doctor of Jiangnan, now a guest of honor at Hongli’s table, his reputation surpassing even that of the Imperial Medical Bureau—hurried in carrying his medicine chest.

After examining Noble Consort Hui for a moment, he turned to Hongli, who had come with him, and said: “Your Majesty, such severe burns must be cold-compressed and medicated as soon as possible. But Noble Consort Hui keeps asking whether they will leave scars. If scars remain, she refuses treatment.”

“Nonsense!” Hongli frowned. “Hold her down and apply the medicine immediately!”

Hearing this, Noble Consort Hui immediately screamed: “No! I don’t want scars! I don’t want to be left with scars, Your Majesty! I don’t want scars!”

Several palace maids stepped forward to restrain her. Noble Consort Hui writhed like a fish on a chopping block, struggling desperately and letting out continuous wails of anguish. When Physician Ye began applying the medicine, her cries grew even more pitiful and shrill.

“This smell…” Physician Ye sniffed, then suddenly stopped his hand. In shock, he said: “This is bad!”

Hongli quickly asked: “What’s wrong?”

Physician Ye’s face crumpled in distress: “Your Majesty, this smell is wrong. I’m afraid this isn’t molten iron—it’s golden juice!”

Hongli, of course, knew what “golden juice” meant. To put it plainly, it was excrement water. In warfare, when two armies clashed, boiling water was sometimes used to repel the enemy. If feces were mixed in, the enemy’s wounds would suffer repeated infections and become extremely difficult to heal.

Noble Consort Hui, already in such agony that her vision had darkened, could no longer bear it after hearing those words. Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted.

When she slowly regained consciousness, Hongli was no longer by her side. Only Physician Ye remained, still carefully bandaging her wounds.

Noble Consort Hui desperately wished everything that had happened was just a nightmare. But the dull, throbbing pain in her back told her it was all real—her back was injured, and the wounds had been splashed with the filthiest golden juice. Her lips trembling, she asked: “How is it? Have the wounds scarred yet?”

“This…” Ye Tianshi thought to himself how this could possibly be, yet he spoke words of comfort aloud: “Your Ladyship Noble Consort, your wound was originally not large. With careful nursing for half a year, it could gradually heal completely. It’s just that…”

“Just what?” Noble Consort Hui struggled to sit up, glaring at him with a ferocious expression. “I don’t care. You must treat me. You must cure me completely — not the slightest scar can be left behind. Do you understand?”

“This… your humble servant will do his utmost…”

Ye Tianshi truly did his utmost, but half a month passed and Noble Consort Hui showed not the slightest improvement.

“Trash! Useless trash! You said to wash with light salt water to reduce inflammation, and to remove the blisters. I obeyed every single instruction! Having each blister individually popped — do you know how painful that was?! Ah?” Noble Consort Hui sat on the bed with disheveled hair. The beauty who once rivaled a peony in splendor now resembled a vengeful debt-collecting ghost. “Why hasn’t the wound scabbed over yet? Why isn’t there even the tiniest sign of healing? Speak, Ye Tianshi!”

“Your humble servant has truly done everything possible!” A corner of Ye Tianshi’s forehead was swollen blue — the result of being struck by a porcelain pillow hurled by Noble Consort Hui. He spoke with extreme difficulty: “But the molten iron was mixed with golden fluid! Golden fluid is filthy… the wound keeps becoming repeatedly infected. This servant… this servant has truly done his utmost!”

Noble Consort Hui reached again to find something to throw at him, but everything within reach had already been thrown. In the end she could only scream hysterically: “Get out! Get out! I never want to see you useless slaves again!”

Ye Tianshi said urgently: “Niangniang, you must not become angry! You must not become angry! Niangniang — what’s wrong, Niangniang?”

Noble Consort Hui swayed and collapsed softly onto the bed.

Ye Tianshi was greatly alarmed. He rushed forward to examine her for a moment, then let out a long sigh: “The wound surface is necrotic, constantly oozing yellow fluid, fever and cough, floating and rapid pulse… I cannot treat this! I cannot treat it anymore!”

Having said that, he began to pack his medicine chest to leave.

Zhilan, terrified, grabbed him desperately: “No! You cannot go! You are a divine physician — you can bring the dead back to life and regrow flesh from white bones. How can you not treat this!”

Ye Tianshi: “At most one month, at least ten days — her whole body will split open with sores and she will die. Alas, forgive my powerlessness.”

With that, he shook off Zhilan’s hand and strode away quickly.

Zhilan chased after him: “Physician Ye! Physician Ye!”

Not long after Zhilan ran out, Noble Consort Hui slowly regained consciousness, though she still felt dazed and could not open her eyes fully: “Zhilan… water…”

A cup of water was brought to her lips. Noble Consort Hui took two sips, felt it was somewhat cool, and was about to slap the person and curse them when she froze: “Why are you here?”

The one holding the cup was not Zhilan, nor any palace maid of Chuxiu Palace — it was an unexpected person — Consort Xian.

Consort Xian smiled coyishly: “Why so surprised? Noble Consort, do you not wish to see me?”

Noble Consort Hui huffed with a sneer: “Zhilan! Zhilan! Where has everyone gone!”

Consort Xian: “Noble Consort’s wound has not healed for so long. You should restrain your temper and rest quietly. How can you still be so impatient!”

Noble Consort Hui sneered: “Ulanara Shushen, rest assured — this palace will definitely recover. I will absolutely not let you have the satisfaction of watching me become a laughingstock!”

Consort Xian: “Right now your back is a vivid red expanse of rotting flesh. Even if you eventually recover, it will leave black scars. Your Ladyship Noble Consort — that was boiling, bubbling molten iron!”

Noble Consort Hui raised her hand to slap her, but unexpectedly Consort Xian moved first — she grabbed Noble Consort Hui’s hair in one swift motion, dragged her forcefully in front of the bronze mirror, and said coldly: “Gao Ningxin, take a good look at what you look like now!”

Since being injured, Noble Consort Hui had not looked in a mirror for a very long time. Now, pressed against the mirror, her gaze did not fall on herself — instead she stared fixedly at Consort Xian’s reflection in the bronze mirror, her eyes filled with hatred.

Consort Xian smiled sweetly: “Why stare at me like that? Haven’t you always relied on your beauty to look down on the entire harem? That won’t be possible anymore. From now on you can only live by relying on the Gao family’s favor… and by relying on His Majesty’s pity!”

Noble Consort Hui suddenly jolted awake: “…It was you!”

“To be precise — not only me.” Consort Xian gave a gentle laugh. “Someone used ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Thousands of Reds’ to scald your skin, intending to ruin your snow-white complexion and deal you a heavy blow. But she was too soft-hearted — she didn’t aim at your face, and didn’t even take the chance to take your life. Naturally, I had to lend her a helping hand.”

Noble Consort Hui’s eyes widened in shock: “Golden juice…”

Consort Xian let out a loud, mocking laugh, no longer bothering to conceal anything, and laid bare the entire truth: “That’s right. Even the most beautiful flower needs manure to nourish it. So I mixed excrement into the molten iron—to ‘nourish’ you, this peerlessly gorgeous peony!”

Looking at her arrogant and vicious expression, Noble Consort Hui trembled with rage from head to toe: “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell His Majesty everything?”

“Do you think His Majesty will believe you, or believe me?” Consort Xian smiled. “Don’t forget—I am the one who saved His Majesty. If you dare accuse me, His Majesty will surely despise you completely. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and try. But… do you still have the time?”

With that, she released her fingers. Noble Consort Hui dropped to the ground like a torn rag, like a sack of garbage, discarded carelessly. Then Consort Xian turned and strode away.

“His Majesty won’t believe you…” Noble Consort Hui wailed hoarsely behind her like a bereaved dog. “His Majesty won’t believe you!”

Is that really so?

Consort Xian glanced back with a smile.

A night breeze carried faint fragrance into the Shui Hall; a single moonbeam peeked at the people below. That night, Hongli spent it in her Chengqian Palace.

The candle flames flickered. Hongli gently removed her outer garments, revealing half of her right shoulder that had been scalded. Though medicine had been applied, a scar still remained—though it was gradually fading and would likely disappear completely in time.

Hongli touched the wound with some heartache and asked, “It’s also a burn, yet Noble Consort Hui screamed as if she wanted the whole world to hear. How is it that you didn’t make a sound? Does it really not hurt?”

Consort Xian smiled slightly. “It hurts. I am also made of flesh and blood—how could it not hurt? But whenever I think that this injury did not fall on Your Majesty’s body, my heart feels comforted. No matter how much it hurts, I no longer mind.”

Hongli was stunned. The gaze he directed at her grew even more tender. At that moment a palace maid came in from outside carrying medicinal ointment. Hongli took it casually and said, “Let me apply the medicine for you.”

Consort Xian shyly consented. The two sat close together like newlyweds, red candles burning brightly beside them, dripping until dawn.

Gazing at her gentle profile, Hongli couldn’t help calling her by her childhood name: “Shushen—”

“Your Majesty.” Consort Xian lowered her head even further, her cheeks flushed as if stained by the candlelight. “It has been many years since you last called me that.”

Hongli embraced her lovingly. “I have neglected you for too long. Yet in the moment of greatest danger, you were the first to throw yourself forward to protect me—even though you clearly knew that I am fully capable of protecting myself and did not need you to risk your life or sacrifice yourself.”

“Yes, I know Your Majesty has the power to protect yourself.” Consort Xian leaned against his chest and said softly, “But in that kind of situation, I simply had no time to think. In the future, this concubine will remember to protect herself first, so as not to make Your Majesty worry.”

Hongli sighed, lowered his head, and kissed her hair.

He did not notice the cold, faint curve that rose at the corner of Consort Xian’s lips.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 82: Ten Thousand Purples and Reds

   After the disaster relief news reached the rear palace, Noble Consort Hui slammed her palm heavily on the table. “What a performance from Consort Xian! Pretending to be virtuous in the Forbidden City wasn’t enough—now the entire capital is praising her, saying she has dignity and can command the masses! Every winter for years, this palace has set up sheds outside the city to distribute grain. These ingrates have forgotten it completely—their eyes see only Consort Xian. All my efforts have been fed to the dogs!”

Naran Chuxue quickly comforted her. “Niangniang, please calm your anger. When a good deed is done every year, people stop appreciating it. Consort Xian has always kept a low profile—suddenly pulling off something big like this naturally draws attention. But as long as the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet is handled properly, how could Niangniang fail to shine?”

Noble Consort Hui took a deep breath. “This time, I will make her lose all face! Zhilan, how are the preparations for the Empress Dowager’s birthday gift coming along?”

Zhilan: “Your Ladyship Noble Consort, ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ has finished rehearsal and is ready for inspection at any time!”

Noble Consort Hui: “This palace wants to see it personally. Instruct them to prepare everything tonight!”

“Yes!” Zhilan hesitated for a moment before adding, “However, four of the artisans attempted to escape and were killed on the spot. Niangniang, what do you think…?”

Noble Consort Hui sneered. “Four, forty, even four hundred—this palace doesn’t care how many die. I only care about the final result!”

Harboring a belly full of resentment and determined to outshine Consort Xian, Noble Consort Hui hastily finished dinner and left Chuxiu Palace. Her large entourage swept grandly toward the side courtyard. Suddenly, Noble Consort Hui halted, her face lighting up in surprise. “Your Majesty, why have you come?”

The joy vanished in an instant as she looked at the woman standing beside Hongli. Her expression darkened. “Consort Xian, you’re here too.”

Consort Xian was dressed today in a light green robe—pure, and understated—adding a touch of cool, verdant freshness to the sweltering summer heat. She gave Noble Consort Hui a gentle, graceful smile. “I heard that Your Ladyship Noble Consort has meticulously prepared a birthday gift for the Empress Dowager. This humble consort has come with His Majesty to admire it. Your Ladyship Noble Consort does not mind, I trust?”

Noble Consort Hui returned a smile of her own. “I mind very much. Can you turn around and leave immediately? Since you cannot, then why bother asking?”

The two locked eyes for a moment in silent confrontation. Seeing that Consort Xian remained unruffled and impossible to provoke, Noble Consort Hui decisively shifted her target. She turned her gaze back to Hongli and said, “Your Majesty, please take a look today. If their performance is good, on the day of the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet, this consort will arrange a troupe of twelve performers. The spectacle will surely be even more magnificent! Zhilan, tell them to begin!”

Zhilan: “Yes, Niangniang!”

The performers of “Ten Thousand Purples and Reds” were several craftsmen wearing bamboo hats and thick padded jackets. The elderly leader stepped forward first. He dipped a white ladle into the molten iron; flames instantly leaped up. With a flick of his wrist, the glowing liquid iron flew toward the cold palace wall. The clash of extreme heat and cold produced a deafening roar as the molten iron exploded outward like thousands of blooming flowers.

“The furnace fire lights up heaven and earth, red stars scatter through purple smoke. The blushing youth under the bright moon, his song stirs the cold river.” Consort Xian recited a poem softly, sighing in admiration. “Thinking about it carefully, isn’t this exactly the scene Li Bai described?”

Hongli actually nodded in rare agreement. “Qiupu was a famous copper-producing region. When Li Bai passed through and saw the copper slag being poured out, sparks flying everywhere, it must have looked just like a smelting scene on an autumn night! Yet this ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ spectacle far surpasses even the fire of smelting!”

The old man continued, ladle after ladle of molten iron soaring into the air. The other craftsmen followed his lead—one scoop after another. It was as though beautiful fireworks were crashing against the palace wall: on the icy stone, they burst into strings of fierce, brilliant sparks that shot upward into the sky. In the moment they fell back, they transformed into a dazzling rain of flowers across the dark night.

The light fell across Noble Consort Hui’s face; her smile shone as brightly as the fireworks themselves. “Your Majesty, this consort plans to build a special performance stage and personally choreograph a dance. Beautiful dancers will swirl gracefully amid the flying sparks—it will surely astonish the Empress Dowager!”

Hongli smiled with clear satisfaction. “Noble Consort’s ingenuity is truly remarkable. If ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ is performed on the Empress Dowager’s birthday, it will surely shock the world!”

Noble Consort Hui’s expression filled with pride. Taking advantage of the moment when Hongli’s attention was captivated by the shower of sparks, she leaned back slightly in her chair and whispered to Zhilan, who stood behind her: “The performance stage—build it right here when the time comes!”

Zhilan bent down and murmured, “Niangniang, isn’t that a bit too close?”

Noble Consort Hui: “What are you afraid of? It’s not as if you’re the one dancing. Build it right here!”

Zhilan: “Yes, Niangniang!”

Zhilan turned and instructed a nearby eunuch: tomorrow, he was to have the craftsmen from the Inner Affairs Department come measure the site.

The eunuch: “Understood!”

While they spoke, another craftsman stepped onto the stage. This one was noticeably small in stature and his technique was far less polished. Though he tried to imitate the old man’s movements, his actions appeared stiff and unnatural… almost as though he were injured.

Hongli was still engrossed in watching the rain of fire. Noble Consort Hui was busy giving orders to her servants. Only Consort Xian noticed the newcomer. Her gaze flickered toward him for a brief instant before she deliberately looked away, pretending she had seen nothing.

The small craftsman moved closer to Noble Consort Hui without drawing attention. Suddenly he raised his hand in a swift motion and, in a deliberately pinched voice, called out: “Niangniang.”

“Hm?” Noble Consort Hui turned her head—only to see a shower of molten iron flying straight out of the ladle toward her face. She screamed in terror, hands flying up to shield her delicate features.

Shouts of alarm erupted all around. Hongli had been standing some distance away from Noble Consort Hui and would not have been in danger—but he immediately rushed toward her. “Noble Consort!”

The splashing molten iron and flying sparks nearly struck him as well. At that moment, Consort Xian threw herself forward. “Your Majesty, be careful!”

Sparks landed on Consort Xian’s back. She cried out in pain and collapsed into Hongli’s arms, trembling violently from the agony. Hongli’s expression changed drastically. “Consort Xian! Someone—come quickly!”

The guards hurried over. Leading them was none other than Fuheng. His sharp eyes swept the scene and instantly locked onto the anomaly.

A short-statured craftsman was attempting to slip away from the chaos!

“Stop!” Fuheng shouted loudly.

Fuheng chased after the other person, but unexpectedly the old craftsman quietly made a hand signal. The other craftsmen understood at once. The next moment,

more and more molten iron was splashed toward the palace wall. Golden rain flew through the air; dazzling golden light blazed before everyone’s eyes. Fuheng had been only one step away from catching the young craftsman, but the intense glare blinded him momentarily. When he opened his eyes again, the figure had already vanished.

Fuheng was furious beyond measure. With one swing of his sword he knocked the iron ladle from the old man’s hand: “Everyone, stop at once!”

The ladle clattered to the ground. The craftsmen immediately halted their work. The old craftsman did the same—he stood with head bowed and posture respectful, looking utterly docile. Only when his peripheral gaze swept toward Noble Consort Hui, who was writhing and wailing in pain on the ground, did a trace of bone-deep hatred flash in his eyes.

“Huff… huff—” In a palace corridor, a small craftsman wearing a gray cap ran panting for breath. The sound of pursuing footsteps grew closer and closer. Suddenly a hand reached out from around the corner and pulled her aside.

The cap slipped off, revealing Wei Yingluo’s slightly pale face.

“Shh.” Yuan Chunwang drew her into his arms, one hand covering her mouth.

Wei Yingluo had been struggling fiercely, but upon hearing his voice she immediately went still.

The sound of the pursuers’ footsteps rushed past them and gradually faded into the distance.

Before Wei Yingluo could even breathe a sigh of relief, Yuan Chunwang was already pulling her along: “Let’s go.”

The two had just dashed out of the corridor when dense footsteps surged toward the corner where they had been hiding. Fuheng rounded a pillar, bent down to pick up the gray cap lying on the ground, then slowly turned his face in the direction the two had fled. In a cold voice he ordered:

“He almost fooled me. Pursue them!”

The group split up to chase, since the path ahead branched into many directions. Fuheng led three guards and pursued all the way to the outside of the Long Alley, where he suddenly halted and shouted:

“Stop right there!”

The sound of rolling wheels came to an abrupt stop. Yuan Chunwang, who had been pushing the night-soil cart, turned his face toward them with a perfectly calm expression: “My lord, what’s the matter?”

Fuheng walked over, his gaze dropping to the cart: “Open it.”

Yuan Chunwang looked at him in surprise: “But this is a night-soil cart!”

Fuheng huffed with a sneer, drew the sword at his waist, and with one flick of the blade knocked the lid off the cart. It fell to the ground with a clatter. In an icy tone he ordered:

“Search it.”

A guard stepped forward to inspect, then shook his head: “Nothing.”

The cart was completely empty. Yuan Chunwang’s expression looked utterly innocent, yet for some reason the more Fuheng looked at him, the more displeased he became. Suddenly his gaze shifted and landed on a shadowy figure skulking not far away. Without another word he abandoned Yuan Chunwang and strode rapidly toward the figure. Fearing the person might escape just like before, he seized their arm in one swift motion.

“Ow!” The cry that followed was unmistakably familiar. Wei Yingluo turned her head, anger flashing across her face. “What are you doing!”

“…It’s you!” Fuheng was momentarily stunned. Unconsciously he loosened his grip, and even his tone softened by several degrees. “There’s an assassin in the palace. I’m pursuing the assassin.”

Yingluo raised the brush in her hand: “Would an assassin be scrubbing night-soil buckets inside the palace?”

“I’m sorry—it’s my duty.” Fuheng had no intention of making things difficult for her. He turned back and asked, “Have you all finished searching?”

The guards conducted a quick inspection and immediately replied: “No one!”

Fuheng let out a breath of relief: “Yingluo, forgive the disturbance!”

After watching him hurry away, Yingluo finally exhaled in relief, tossed aside the brush, and prepared to leave.

“Stop.” A clear, crisp voice sounded behind her.

“Cough cough cough!” Wei Yingluo gave several very deliberate coughs before turning around. “I’m seriously ill right now. Whatever it is, can we talk about it tomorrow…?”

“Seriously ill?” Yuan Chunwang scoffed with icy disdain. He gripped Wei Yingluo’s arm firmly, pulled up her sleeve, and said, “Looks more like seriously injured to me!”

In the moonlight, Wei Yingluo’s arm was covered in vivid red—clearly burns.

Wei Yingluo cried out in pain: “What are you doing?”

“Tell me!” Yuan Chunwang stepped closer, his gaze burning. “Where did the injury on your arm come from?”

Yingluo forcefully pulled her hand back, her voice lacking conviction: “It’s just from working… I got hurt during regular tasks…”

“Heh.” Yuan Chunwang scoffed with icy disdain. “The ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ technique is very easy to burn yourself with. The scars on your arm are exactly from molten iron burns.”

“No, it’s not…” Wei Yingluo still tried to argue, but his next words cut her off: “Laiwang has already told me everything.”

Laiwang was the name of the young craftsman whom Wei Yingluo had replaced. The boy had suffered serious injuries while training in the “Ten Thousand Purples and Reds” technique. It was precisely to seek justice for this child—and to secure his future—that the old master had agreed to let Wei Yingluo take his place on stage and teach Noble Consort Hui a lesson.

Hearing the name, Wei Yingluo knew he was fully aware of everything. She immediately shut her mouth and said nothing more.

“Was it to avenge the dead craftsman?” Yuan Chunwang stared at her. “Or was it… for the Empress?”

Yingluo quickly raised her head to glance at him, then just as quickly lowered it again.

Yuan Chunwang instantly understood. His laughter grew even colder, laced with mockery and an emotion that was hard to define: “Just for such a tiny, insignificant favor, you were willing to gamble your own life. What a fool!”

His right hand gently touched Wei Yingluo’s cheek. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but the fingers that were always as cold as a snake’s tonight carried the faintest trace of warmth.

“…I’ve also treated you very well.” Yuan Chunwang lowered his eyes to look at her, his voice low, almost a murmur. “If I were the one in trouble, would you… also gamble your life for me?”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 81: Disaster Relief

   When Naran Chuxue arrived, Zhilan was applying fragrant hand cream to Noble Consort Hui’s fingers.

“Your Ladyship Noble Consort truly has skin as white as snow and as smooth as congealed fat,” Naran Chuxue seized the opportunity to flatter. “This lowly concubine is truly envious.”

“If one bathed in milk every day and applied fragrant cream constantly, one would naturally end up the same as this palace,” Noble Consort Hui replied lazily from her couch. Then her expression suddenly turned cold. “Enough idle talk. I spent so much effort to finally remove that thorn in our eye—the Empress—only for Consort Xian to appear out of nowhere. By saving the Empress Dowager at the Double Ninth palace banquet, she shot straight to becoming the most favored in the palace. The fruit this palace worked so hard to pluck has now been snatched away by her! Tomorrow she will be distributing aid to disaster victims at Di’anmen. Tell me—what should we do?”

Naran Chuxue lowered her head in thought for a moment, then raised it with a smile. “Niangniang, rest assured. I will certainly not let her have such an easy time.”

Although Consort Xian was in charge of the disaster relief, she could not accomplish it alone. It required the cooperation of many people at every level. In the Laundry Cleaning Department, Momo Liu scanned the group. “Tomorrow, you will all go to Di’anmen to help with the congee distribution and disaster relief. By the grace of Consort Xian Niangniang, every servant from the Laundry Cleaning Department who goes to Di’anmen will receive one tael of reward silver and one day of rest in rotation.”

The group immediately burst into delighted murmurs.

“Ahem, ahem…” Wei Yingluo coughed several times. The news meant nothing to her—she could barely stand now and could only lean against Yuan Chunwang for support.

Momo Liu cast her a disgusted glance. “Consort Xian Niangniang also said that any palace servant who falls ill in the six palaces is to be treated by a physician and granted one day of sick leave. Consider yourself fortunate—you’ll stay behind tomorrow.”

After Momo Liu left, Yuan Chunwang smiled. “Consort Xian really is formidable. Without raising a finger, she wins everyone’s hearts. Your former mistress, the Empress, is far behind her in this regard.”

Wei Yingluo’s willow brows shot up. Though she said nothing, displeasure was clear on her face.

“Enough. Instead of worrying about other people, you should worry about yourself first.” Yuan Chunwang suddenly scooped her up in his arms in a princess carry and pressed his forehead to hers. “Your fever hasn’t gone down yet. Go back and rest.”

There were still people around. Wei Yingluo felt both embarrassed and angry. “Put me down this instant!”

Yuan Chunwang remained unmoved. “What are you shouting about? I’m your older brother! Don’t move!”

“When did those two get so close?” A palace maid watching from behind nudged Jinxiu with her elbow, speaking with malicious intent. “They couldn’t have… already formed a ‘paired eating’ arrangement, could they?”

Jinxiu stared at the two of them from afar. Hatred gradually filled her eyes.

Time passed quickly—especially in a place like the Laundry Cleaning Department, where the routine was simple: wake up, work, sleep. A day flew by. The next day, a group of servants set out for Di’anmen to assist Consort Xian.

Yuan Chunwang was among them.

With Wei Yingluo absent, he became silent and taciturn again. After helping set up the large cauldrons, he joined the other servants in distributing plain congee and steamed buns to the refugees. At first, things proceeded in an orderly manner, but as more and more refugees arrived, the scene grew increasingly chaotic. People began cutting in line, and some even snatched food from others’ hands—fights were inevitable.

Consort Xian stood inside the congee shed, watching the scene outside and frowning slightly. “Chief Steward Wu, why is it so chaotic out there!”

Wu Shulai wiped cold sweat from his brow. “Consort Xian, Your Ladyship, we don’t even know where all these refugees came from. The entire situation has turned into complete pandemonium! Do you think… perhaps we should stop for now?”

A refugee slammed his bowl of congee hard onto the ground and roared, “Didn’t they say a palace consort was graciously distributing congee? What kind of congee is this? It’s basically water—you can see your own reflection in it! And look at this steamed bun!”

He charged forward, snatched a bun from a palace maid’s hand, and tore it apart with force. “It’s coarse brown rice—and there’s sand inside! It’s breaking people’s teeth!”

Wu Shulai was furious. “Nonsense! Our buns don’t have sand in them!”

But how could the refugees believe the words of this lofty figure whose very fingernails were spotlessly clean? Compared to him, they trusted far more the equally filthy and haggard people standing beside them—their own kind.

The refugee who had started the trouble held up the torn bun and shouted again, “We traveled thousands of li to reach the foot of the Son of Heaven, thinking we would at least have food and drink. Instead the soldiers drive us away everywhere, the rich won’t spare a single coin, we wander in rags with empty stomachs, forced to sell our children and beg on the streets! All this talk of the palace showing mercy and distributing grain—it’s all lies! They’re deceiving us, deceiving us!”

The refugees were only half-convinced when suddenly a voice rose from the crowd, pinched and shrill: “Why are you still lining up? Hurry up and grab it! If you’re too slow there won’t even be congee or buns left!”

The words had barely fallen when one refugee pushed forward, rushed to the very front of the line in a few strides, snatched the steaming basket from a screaming palace maid’s hands, and flung all the buns into the air.

Steamed buns rained down. Countless hands shot upward. In moments the buns were completely plundered. Many people received neither buns nor congee. Curses and sobs rose together in waves. Some people even came to blows over a single bun—blood flowed freely.

Women clutched their children and stood to one side in terror. Elders were knocked to the ground and wailed loudly.

Palace maids and eunuchs retreated in panic, but Yuan Chunwang remained completely still, standing expressionless in place, his gaze constantly sweeping through the crowd.

In the midst of the turmoil, several refugees suddenly charged toward the congee shed where Consort Xian was. They were blocked by several guards: “What are you doing? Get out!”

“Aiya!” It was that same troublemaking refugee again. He suddenly clutched his chest and staggered back a step, then shouted at the top of his lungs, “The guards are beating people! They’re not good people—grab them!”

The crowd had already lost all reason. With him taking the lead, many others blindly followed, swarming over and clumsily trying to seize the guards’ weapons and clothes.

Wu Shulai was frantic: “Quick! Quick—call for more people! Protect Her Ladyship!”

“It’s her!” The refugee who had caused all this suddenly pointed straight at Consort Xian and yelled, “There isn’t enough food at all! What fake charity is this? She’s just a big liar—grab her!”

In an instant, the refugees surged toward Consort Xian.

Wu Shulai was horrified: “Your Ladyship! Your Ladyship, what do we do? We must return to the palace at once—quickly, back to the palace!”

Consort Xian narrowed her eyes and coldly watched the approaching mob, her expression icy and unyielding.

The guards rushed forward to shield Consort Xian, drawing their blades in unison and forbidding anyone from coming closer. But no matter how sharp the swords, there were only a dozen or so of them—against hundreds or even thousands of refugees outside, it was a drop in the bucket. As more and more people gathered, the sweat on the guards’ foreheads grew heavier and heavier.

Just as a major disaster seemed imminent, a young eunuch suddenly dashed out from inside the congee shed and—with a sharp metallic ring—drew a guard’s sword from its sheath at his waist.

The gleaming blade reflected his handsome profile—it was Yuan Chunwang.

Sword in hand, Yuan Chunwang charged straight into the crowd of refugees without the slightest hesitation, not even furrowing his brow. With one swift motion of his arm, a refugee’s head was severed and fell.

Blood sprayed skyward. The head rolled through the crowd, and wherever it went, it triggered waves of terrified screams.

“Murder! Murder!”

“Help!”

“I don’t want buns anymore—let me go!”

Yuan Chunwang raised his hand to wipe the blood that had splattered onto his cheek, then spoke loudly: “He’s not a refugee at all! The refugees have fled here all the way from Zhili, Tianjin, and other places. Their feet are all wrapped in straw sandals, worn through at the soles. But though this man is dressed in refugee clothes, his feet are in perfectly intact cloth shoes. He’s clearly a bandit who has mingled with the refugees with ulterior motives!”

Inside the congee shed, Consort Xian—who had just been annoyed at him for acting on his own initiative—froze upon hearing this.

“You’re talking nonsense!” one refugee shouted, pointing at him. “You’re all in cahoots! You kill someone and then frame us—kill him! Kill him!”

The refugees instantly grew agitated and surged toward Yuan Chunwang.

Yuan Chunwang began to laugh. With blood still staining his cheek, that laugh looked especially eerie and terrifying—like a man-eating flower demon or snake spirit. Facing hundreds of times his number in refugees, he flicked the sword in his hand, shaking off the fresh blood on its blade, and sneered coldly: “Whoever takes the lead in causing trouble will end up just like him!”

The feet rushing toward him immediately halted.

A mob needs a leader to turn into a riot, but with his bloodstained sharp sword in hand, no one wanted to be that leader.

Even the refugee who had first stirred up trouble now only dared to hide in the crowd, his eyes flickering as he stared at him.

And so, they missed their best chance to strike.

Boom, boom, boom—neat, orderly footsteps approached from the distance. A large contingent of guards rushed in, using swords and blades to separate the refugees and surround Consort Xian in an impenetrable protective circle.

The commanding officer asked with concern, “Consort Xian, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Consort Xian replied. Then her gaze shifted to Yuan Chunwang, carrying a hint of scrutiny. “Did you notice anything?”

Yuan Chunwang sheathed his sword and bowed respectfully to her. “In reply to Your Ladyship, there were eight refugees stirring up trouble in total. Besides the one who has already been killed, there are seven more…”

With that, he turned toward the crowd and, from left to right, precisely pointed out seven individuals.

“These eight have been shoving the refugees around and sowing discord the whole time—especially the one trying to slip away toward the southeast corner,” Yuan Chunwang said. “He not only started the trouble but also incited the refugees to attack Your Ladyship. His intentions are clearly malicious. Someone must be directing him from behind. As for who that might be, it will require Your Ladyship’s order to arrest and interrogate them thoroughly.”

Consort Xian huffed with a sneer. “What are you waiting for? Seize them!”

The guards surged forward, locking irons onto all seven troublemakers. In no time at all, their mouths were gagged and they were dragged away. What awaited them would surely be round after round of harsh torture.

Once the agitators were removed, the remaining refugees reverted to being docile sheep. Under the guards’ watchful eyes, they quietly lined up again and obediently received their food from the palace maids and eunuchs.

Looking at the endless sea of people stretching into the distance, Consort Xian sighed. “I never expected there would be so many refugees. The food I prepared is probably not going to be enough.”

“That’s because not all of them down there are genuine refugees,” Yuan Chunwang suddenly spoke up.

Consort Xian was taken aback and frowned. “You mean… some of them are falsely claiming relief?”

“The real refugees have traveled long distances, covered in dust and exhaustion, all of them sallow-faced and weak-limbed. But look at these people.” Yuan Chunwang casually pointed out a few individuals. “How could they possibly be refugees?”

Consort Xian examined them closely and realized he was right. Though they wore ragged clothing, some had brutish, fleshy faces full of aggression, while others looked energetic and alert—nothing like refugees at all.

“What do you think these people are?” Consort Xian asked.

Yuan Chunwang replied, “Beggars and idlers from the capital, or perhaps people hired with money. As for the purpose of hiring them, Your Ladyship has already seen it with your own eyes…”

If the true refugees couldn’t receive aid, resentment would naturally build. Who knows—it might even erupt into a major disturbance.

Consort Xian’s expression darkened. Suddenly she raised her voice and announced: “The current congee sheds are far from sufficient to handle the number of refugees. Except for children under ten and elders over sixty, everyone must participate in building additional congee sheds!”

Upon hearing this, the refugees began to stir and murmur again.

“Why?”

“Yeah, why should we do the work!”

“They said it was free congee distribution, but they tricked us into coming here to labor!”

“Exactly, this is too much! It’s outright deception—we’re not doing it!”

“Right, no work! We absolutely refuse!”

“We want to eat! Hurry up and hand out the steamed buns!”

“Zhili, Tianjin, and other areas have suffered from floods, and countless refugees have poured into the capital. The Forbidden City and the wealthy households are distributing congee and grain out of benevolence. But such benevolence should be given to those who truly need it!” Consort Xian swept her gaze over the crowd, her eyes cold and stern. “Every bowl of congee and every steamed bun here has been saved by someone from their own portion. Giving it to you is an act of grace; withholding it is only natural! You have no right to question it, and even less right to demand it! Earning food through your own labor is what truly belongs to you—something no one can take away! Now, young children, the elderly, and the sick and frail who are unable to work will receive food for free. As for everyone else—get to work.”

As soon as her words fell, Yuan Chunwang stepped forward: “Today, eight congee sheds will be set up outside Di’anmen Gate, and refugee camps are also being built outside the city. Those willing to work, come register. We’ll distribute rations according to the number of people. Eat your fill, regain your strength, and exchange your labor for tomorrow’s rations. If you want something for nothing—not a single grain of rice!”

The crowd exchanged glances, eventually splitting into two groups: one went to register and be recorded, while the other scattered and left.

In this way, a major crisis was averted. Consort Xian’s satisfied gaze fell on Yuan Chunwang. “Which palace do you belong to?”

Yuan Chunwang knelt and replied, “In response to Consort Xian Niangniang, this servant comes from the Department of Punished Labor.”

A eunuch, displeased that he had stolen the spotlight, interjected, “Consort Xian Niangniang, he’s merely a lowly cleaner of night-soil buckets!”

The crowd burst into laughter, but Yuan Chunwang remained silent, kneeling calmly with a composed gaze.

Consort Xian studied him and smiled coyishly. “A hero’s origins need not be questioned. The Department of Punished Labor is currently short of a manager—let it be you.”

The crowd was stunned, whispers rippling through them.

Yuan Chunwang lowered his head, concealing the ambition in his eyes. “Thank you for your grace, Consort Xian Niangniang!”

Once he gained favor, even the lowliest rose to prominence. On the way out of the palace, everyone kept their distance from Yuan Chunwang. On the way back, everyone crowded around him. The eunuch who had interrupted earlier slapped his own face repeatedly in flattery. “I was rude earlier—please, Eunuch Yuan, do not hold it against me.”

After dealing with this group of snobbish petty people, Yuan Chunwang hurried his steps toward the Department of Punished Labor.

He couldn’t wait to share this good news with Wei Yingluo.

“…Hm?” Looking at the completely empty warehouse, Yuan Chunwang frowned. “Where is Yingluo?”

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