Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 72: Never Betray

   Hongli waited behind the screen for a while. The tea gradually cooled, and so did his body.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “Why isn’t she here yet?”

The words had barely left his mouth when the door opened.

Someone entered very quietly, footsteps as light as a cat’s—so soft that if you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t hear them at all.

“Why so cautious?” Hongli imagined the nervous, uneasy expression on the other person’s face right now and couldn’t help but smile. “Come here!”

The footsteps paused for a moment, then hurried over in small running steps.

When he saw who it was, the smile vanished from Hongli’s face at once.

“Who are you?”

The person holding the clothes was clearly a delicate, handsome young eunuch.

Startled by Hongli’s sharp tone, he stammered in reply:

“Reporting to Your Majesty… it was Yingluo’s older sister who asked me to come…”

“Where is she?” Hongli lifted his gaze, looking past him toward the door, and said sternly, “Wei Yingluo, I ordered you to change my clothes, yet you push the task onto someone else. Have you really grown the heart of a bear and the gall of a leopard? Get in here yourself!”

A soft sigh came from outside the door.

The little eunuch scrambled out in a panic, returned the clothes to Wei Yingluo’s hands, his small face pale as he said:

“Yingluo older sister, you should take them in to His Majesty yourself. I—I’ll go ahead…”

Without waiting for Wei Yingluo to respond, he hurried away.

Wei Yingluo shook her head at his retreating back. It wasn’t that she had pushed the task onto him—this little eunuch had ambitions and had voluntarily offered to serve His Majesty in her place. Now it seemed that the path of ambition was indeed not so easy to walk.

“Your Majesty.” Yingluo knocked helplessly on the door. “This servant is coming in.”

With slender hands she undid the clothing. Layer after layer of the ordinary robe was peeled away, like peeling the skin from a fruit—beneath the skin lay the tantalizing flesh that everyone in the harem coveted: the body of the man beneath the robe.

Even through the inner garment, one could still sense the strength of that body.

It was not as sharply muscled as a guard’s, yet the lines were smooth and flowing, without a trace of excess fat, and it carried a pleasant scent—not the seductive fragrance women used, but something between sandalwood and ink, the faint aroma of someone who spent long hours bent over documents and state affairs.

She unfolded the clean robe in her hands and, without saying a word, began to dress the man before her. The moment she draped the garment over his shoulders, her right hand was suddenly seized and yanked, pulling her straight into his embrace.

A pair of cool, thin lips pressed against her ear, warm breath mingling with cold words:

“Tell me—what exactly do you want by getting close to Fuheng?”

Wei Yingluo’s cheeks flushed faintly—whether from shame or anger, it was hard to tell.

“Your Majesty, this servant doesn’t understand what you mean!”

A soft chuckle. A man’s hand lifted her chin.

“No need to pretend. I have long seen through that pretty shell of yours.” Hongli pinched her chin, smiling as he looked down at her. “Fuheng comes from an illustrious family; his character is noble and precious. Yet you have schemed and deliberately approached him, all to escape your status as a servant and become the wife of a noble. But don’t forget—Fuheng is my brother-in-law, and the Fucha clan are my most trusted vassals. I will never allow a woman like you to have even the slightest connection to the Fucha family.”

At first Yingluo had resisted his touch, but after hearing those words, she simply stopped struggling. She lifted her head to look straight at him and asked in return:

“This servant has never harbored any ambition to fly up to the branches. I don’t even know where Your Majesty got such an idea. This servant truly doesn’t understand—right from the beginning, why has Your Majesty harbored such special loathing toward this servant? Why?”

Hongli was momentarily stunned. Then he quickly hardened his expression and said coldly:

“Because you are presumptuous and rude, and your face is detestable!”

“Your Majesty is always gentle and amiable toward Erqing and Ming Yu. Is it just because this servant is not respectful enough that you hate me to this extent?” Yingluo looked at him in genuine confusion.

Even though she was in the palace and didn’t like Hongli, she also didn’t want to become his target. If only she could know the reason he disliked her—she would find a way to mend the rift between them. Even if she couldn’t make him like her, at least she could prevent them from mutually despising each other…

Their eyes met. Hongli stared at her for a very long time—so long that the hand pinching her chin slowly relaxed and slid up to caress her cheek.

“Your Majesty?” This ambiguous touch frightened Yingluo far more than violence ever could. She quickly turned her face away, avoiding his hand.

His hand met empty air. Hongli was silent for a moment. Then, like a volcano erupting after long quiescence, he reached out again—not toward her cheek this time, but downward, deftly unfastening the first button of her clothing.

“…If you want to climb onto a high branch, wouldn’t it be better to come beg me directly?” His well-defined fingers slowly moved to the second button. Hongli spoke in a low voice. “I can grant you everything you desire…”

Thump. Yingluo collapsed to her knees on the floor.

She kowtowed several resounding times, her voice trembling as her face pressed to the ground: “This servant thanks Your Majesty for your favor, but Yingluo is of lowly status and meager fortune—I dare not climb so high.”

Hongli looked down at her from above.

Seeing those bright yellow dragon boots draw closer, Yingluo scrambled backward on her hands and feet. Whether by accident or design, she knocked into the screen behind her.

The screen crashed to the floor with a loud clatter. Li Yu quietly opened the door a crack: “Your Majesty?”

“Your Majesty!” Yingluo kowtowed again and again with loud thuds. “The Empress is right next door! She is with child!”

Hongli’s hand, extended toward her, froze in midair.

At the same moment, in the sleeping chamber, the Empress’s eyelashes fluttered. She slowly awakened.

“What was that noise just now?” she asked, turning her head.

“His Majesty was just here,” Erqing said, lifting the bed curtains. “He accidentally spilled something on his robes, so Yingluo went to attend to him. Perhaps—”

She abruptly fell silent, her eyes darting away. She bit her lip, looking as though she wanted to speak but hesitated.

“Erqing,” the Empress said, “You have served this palace for so many years—what is there that you cannot say?”

Erqing sighed, adjusted the welcoming pillow behind the Empress, and spoke softly: “Now that you are with child, some people have begun to grow restless. Your Ladyship should be on guard.”

The Empress frowned. “Are you suspecting Yingluo?”

Erqing was skilled at reading expressions. Seeing the displeasure on the Empress’s face, she immediately changed her tone: “Of course this servant is not suspecting Yingluo! Although she has not been in the palace long, she has always been loyal and devoted to the Your Majesty—how could she possibly harbor disloyal thoughts?”

Only then did the Empress’s expression soften slightly.

“Yingluo has no disloyalty, but that doesn’t mean others won’t stir up trouble,” Erqing said carefully, watching the Empress’s face as she chose her words. “If Your Ladyship wishes to promote her, you could recommend Yingluo to His Majesty—use her to secure favor. After all, she came from Changchun Palace; remembering the kindness and care Your Ladyship showed her, she would surely become your strong support.”

These words appeared to be spoken for the Empress’s benefit—even for Yingluo’s—but in truth, they were a blatant attempt at sowing discord.

Seeing the Empress’s expression change, Erqing felt secret delight and was about to add fuel to the fire when the door behind her opened. Yingluo’s cheerful voice drifted in from afar: “Your Ladyship is awake?”

Yingluo entered carrying an armful of fresh orchids, their petals glistening with crystalline dewdrops that rolled gently down the leaves. She walked to a slender-necked vase on the table, replaced the old flowers with the new ones, and spoke casually as she worked: “Did we disturb Your Ladyship earlier? A little eunuch accidentally knocked over the screen. His Majesty was furious and stormed off in a rage.”

“I see,” the Empress said thoughtfully, watching her back. “I thought something serious had happened.”

With her back to the Empress, Yingluo carefully arranged the flowers: “Right now, the most important thing in Changchun Palace is Your Ladyship resting and protecting the pregnancy. Nothing is more important than that.”

The Empress looked at her for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “Yingluo, someone suggested to this Palace that you be offered to His Majesty. Are you willing?”

The hand that had been arranging flowers paused. Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head and fixed her gaze on Erqing. That look was like a thorn, stabbing so sharply that Erqing’s eyes stung with pain. She turned her face away unnaturally, avoiding the stare.

“…Your Majesty.” Yingluo withdrew her gaze, knelt before the Empress, and said, “This servant is unwilling.”

“Why not?” The Empress leaned back against the welcoming pillow, her hands crossed over her slightly protruding belly, smiling at her. “You have always been proud and ambitious. If you became one of the consorts or concubines, no one would dare bully you again.”

Erqing’s eyes flickered. She immediately chimed in: “Yingluo, this is an act of grace from Her Majesty the Empress—something others could beg for and still not receive! Think carefully before you answer. Once you step out of Changchun Palace, everyone will look at you with new respect!”

Another attempt at sowing discord.

If at this moment Yingluo said yes—or even hesitated for just a second—it would plant a thorn deep in the Empress’s heart. With Erqing’s daily reminders, that thorn would sooner or later cost Yingluo her life.

Yingluo glanced at her coldly. “Many thanks for Erqing’s kind intentions, but this servant cannot accept them.”

Erqing’s expression changed. Realizing her scheme had been seen through, she decided to press forward instead of retreating. She accused: “Haven’t you always claimed to be utterly loyal to Her Majesty? Now that Her Majesty is with child and cannot serve His Majesty in the bedchamber, if you were to take her place and attend to him, wouldn’t that be the greatest show of loyalty?”

Yingluo shook her head. Instead, she seized the opportunity to make her declaration to the Empress: “Your Majesty has shown this servant kindness as deep as the sea. Even if this servant were to shatter into pieces, it would not be enough to repay you. But if this servant truly became a consort or concubine—if I received no favor, how could I speak of loyalty? And if I did receive favor, there would surely be children. As time passed and private ambitions arose, could I still serve Your Majesty with single-hearted devotion? That is the matter of public duty. As for private feelings…”

She paused. Her eyes gazed at the Empress with childlike adoration; the sincerity in them rolled like waves, clearer and more transparent than the dew on an orchid petal.

“…If I may speak presumptuously, in this servant’s heart, Your Majesty is not only my master and my esteemed teacher—you are like my own elder sister.” Yingluo spoke gently, the way a child looks at the person closest to them, the way a lone whale that has wandered every ocean finally finds another of its kind. “This servant swears to serve Your Majesty with lifelong loyalty. His Majesty is your husband, the person you hold dearest in your heart. Anyone in the world may become a consort or concubine—except me. I would rather die than betray you!”

The Empress gazed steadily at her.

She came from an illustrious family, yet the more noble the lineage, the colder the familial affection. Such deep devotion—not even her own siblings had ever shown it to her, nor had Hongli…

   After all, no matter how much Hongli valued her, he would never promise her a lifetime of monogamy. Yet in Yingluo’s heart, she was the one and only: the only master, the only teacher, and the only… elder sister.

   “…Yingluo, come here.” The Empress sighed and beckoned to her.

Yingluo shuffled forward on her knees until she was right in front of her. Only at such close range did the Empress notice the circle of tears glistening in her eyes—like a child who had been wronged but refused to speak of it.

The Empress’s heart immediately softened. She gently stroked Yingluo’s cheek. “Rest assured—this Palace will never let you become a consort or concubine. That would be wasting your future. One day, this Palace will personally see you married off in grand style.”

Yingluo rubbed her cheek against the Empress’s fingers like a small animal, smiling through her tears. “Thank you for Your Majesty’s great kindness.”

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