Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 20: The Informant

   “Sister Zhilan.”

Zhilan turned and saw a woman approaching with a flirtatious, swaying gait. Such an appearance and figure might easily win favor in a brothel or the inner quarters of a wealthy merchant’s household, but on a servant in the palace it looked far from proper—likely to draw annoyance if one wasn’t careful.

“You are?” Zhilan gave her a cool, sweeping glance.

“I’m a palace maid from the embroidery workshop—Jinxiu.” Jinxiu hurriedly introduced herself, lifting both hands to present a tray on which lay a neatly folded green garment. “Momo Zhang sent me to deliver the newly finished spring clothing.”

“Oh.” Zhilan nodded. “Just set it down.”

But Jinxiu was unwilling to leave so easily. She placed the tray down with deliberate slowness, all the while speaking in a fawning tone: “It’s the same palace uniform for everyone, yet when it’s worn by you, sister, it looks completely different. Look how beautifully the flowers are embroidered at the cuffs—one glance and anyone can tell you’re someone with skillful hands.”

Zhilan smiled faintly. Although everyone wore the same style of palace attire, a closer look revealed subtle differences. The more capable and higher-ranking senior maids would have additional embroidery added to their cuffs and collars, with varying degrees of finesse. The one she wore now was adorned with peach blossoms in bud—not stitched by her own hand, but ordered from one of the little maids in the embroidery workshop.

What was her name again? It seemed to be… Yingluo?

“…even more skillful than Yingluo, the best embroiderer we have over there.” Jinxiu continued with a smile. “Speaking of Yingluo, not only does she have embroidery skills that rival heaven itself, she’s also extremely clever. If it hadn’t been for her last time, none of us would have known there were so many details to loquat paste!”

Zhilan had already grown tired of her and was about to wave her away when she suddenly turned her head sharply. “What did you say? Loquat paste?”

“Yes.” Jinxiu put on an innocent expression. “Last time in Yonghe Palace, Yingluo mentioned that when she was little she once accidentally ate loquat leaves, and that’s how we learned the new leaves are poisonous and can’t be used in medicine. Why, is something wrong?”

Zhilan slammed her right hand down hard on the table, gritting her teeth. “So that’s how it is—it was her!”

“Sister Zhilan, did… did I say something wrong?” Jinxiu pretended to lower her head timidly, her voice quavering, while inwardly she sneered again and again.

That little wretch Wei Yingluo—on the surface she acted so pure and lofty, forbidding her from seducing Fucha Fuheng, yet behind her back she was hooking up with a guard herself.

Unfortunately she had notified Aunt Fang too late and failed to catch the adulterer in the act. But no matter—she still held other leverage in her hand. By borrowing Noble Consort Hui’s power, she could surely remove this eyesore from her path.

“Lead the way.” Zhilan stood up. “Take me to find this Wei Yingluo.”

“Yes, Sister Zhilan.” Jinxiu replied promptly.

The two walked one behind the other toward the embroidery workshop. When they arrived, a crowd was already gathered around Wei Yingluo—some staring in admiration, others with entranced expressions.

“This rosy-cloud embroidery is so beautiful. I’m going to embroider one myself later.”

“Hah, don’t end up trying to draw a tiger and winding up with something that looks like a dog instead.”

“I used to embroider rosy clouds too, but the ones I made always came out looking like patches of floating mist. Yingluo, how exactly do you do it?”

“This is the full-embroidery technique. The colors graduate smoothly, the layers are distinct—beautiful to look at, yes, but it takes ten years of practice under the stage lights to achieve. If you want to produce something of the same quality, without a decade of work, it’s impossible.”

A pair of embroidered shoes stepped up behind Wei Yingluo, followed by a burst of laughter. “Indeed, very well done.”

Wei Yingluo paused her needle, turned to look at the newcomer, then hurriedly rose and curtsied. “Sister Zhilan.”

The other palace maids also rushed to bow to this favored attendant of Noble Consort Hui. Even Momo Zhang—the eldest present—stood up, not daring to remain seated in Zhilan’s presence. Her tone was extremely polite as she asked:

“Zhilan, what brings you here? Is it that the spring garments we sent over were not to your liking? There was no need for you to come in person—just send a palace maid with a message, and I would have gone straight to Chuxiu Palace at once.”

“I was originally quite satisfied,” Zhilan replied with a smile, “but after seeing this cloud-and-rosy-sky design, I’m no longer pleased.” Her gaze shifted to Wei Yingluo. “This little palace maid’s embroidery is exceptionally fine. Let her come with me for a moment.”

Many of the maids cast envious glances toward Wei Yingluo. Only Wei Yingluo herself and Momo Zhang felt their hearts sink with a sudden thud.

If the master truly had some instruction, a single sentence would suffice. What matter could possibly require someone to come in person? Most likely, this trip spelled misfortune rather than fortune.

Momo Zhang wanted to protect Wei Yingluo and forced a smile. “Zhilan, isn’t that a bit improper? This girl is still my assistant and hasn’t finished her apprenticeship yet. How about… let me embroider for you instead!”

For the head mammy of an entire embroidery workshop to personally offer to embroider garments for a mere palace maid was already an enormous act of humility and flattery. Yet Zhilan didn’t buy it at all. She scoffed with icy disdain.

“Momo Zhang, don’t play word games with me here. I named the person I want, and that’s who it will be. I won’t have you picking and choosing, swapping this one for that one! Wei Yingluo—follow me!”

The malice in her words was unmistakable to everyone present. All at once, the envy in their eyes vanished, replaced by looks of sympathy or schadenfreude as they stared at Wei Yingluo.

“…Yes.” With no other choice, Wei Yingluo could only steel herself and agree.

Once she and Zhilan had left, the embroidery workshop immediately erupted into chaos. Even though Momo Zhang kept scolding them, she couldn’t stop the little palace maids from whispering furtively among themselves.

“What’s going on? Did Wei Yingluo offend Sister Zhilan somehow?”

“They’ve barely met a few times—how could she have offended her?”

“But… but Sister Zhilan looked like she came here to settle a score.”

Of course she had come to settle a score.

In a side hall of Chuxiu Palace, Wei Yingluo knelt on the ice-cold floor.

She had already been kneeling for a long time. The chill seeped through her knees and burrowed straight into her bones. The room was deathly silent, broken only occasionally by the faint sound of a spoon stirring soup.

Noble Consort Hui sat in a chair. On the red sandalwood tea table beside her rested a bowl of lotus-root-flour dumplings.

The soup was snow-white; the dumplings were pitch-black, as though molded from mud. Black and white contrasted sharply—the black seeming even blacker, the white even whiter—like a landscape painting in ink. But after sitting so long, the dish had gone completely cold, without a trace of steam left.

Deciding that the show of power had gone on long enough, Noble Consort Hui finally set down her spoon and asked slowly and deliberately:

“You are Wei Yingluo?”

“YES!! YOUR LADYSHIP!!” A thunderous shout nearly caused the spoon in her hand to clatter to the floor.

In all her years as Noble Consort, Hui had never encountered anyone who dared shout like that in her presence. She raised a hand to her chest… though in truth she wanted to soothe her still-ringing ears.

“Why are you yelling so loudly?”

Wei Yingluo looked up with a grin. When she had first entered and immediately knelt, Noble Consort Hui hadn’t gotten a proper look at her face. Now that she did, she saw drool still hanging from the corner of the girl’s mouth—apparently she had taken the opportunity to nap a little while kneeling.

“Sorry, Your Highness Noble Consort.” Raising a hand to wipe the drool from her mouth, Wei Yingluo gave a silly laugh. “This servant has always had a loud voice. Momo has beaten me many times for it, but I just can’t change!”

In the palace, whether standing or sitting, everything must follow strict rules—especially for the palace maids who serve the noble ladies. Even the posture for sleeping has its proper form. A foolish girl like her, who could fall asleep while kneeling, was bound to receive ten times more beatings than anyone else.

Noble Consort Hui looked at her suspiciously. “Was it you who said the new leaves of the loquat are poisonous?”

“Yes, they’re poisonous—you can’t eat them!” Wei Yingluo nodded frantically. “Why is Your Ladyship asking about this? Ah—could it be that you want to eat loquat paste? In that case, you absolutely must not eat the seeds, and don’t touch the new leaves either—they’re both toxic! When I was little, I was too greedy and accidentally ate too much. I vomited and had diarrhea so badly I nearly died! Last time, the lady from Yonghe Palace also wanted some, but I managed to stop her—just in time! Oh, and there’s more, there’s more…”

She rattled on and on in a torrent of words, and it looked like she had no intention of stopping. Her voice was so loud that she sounded like dozens of ducks quacking at once, making Noble Consort Hui’s temples throb incessantly.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Noble Consort Hui finally had to cut her off. “What is all this nonsense? Disjointed, incoherent, completely incomprehensible! You’ve been in the palace this long and you still don’t even know how to properly answer your mistress?”

Wei Yingluo nodded, then hurriedly shook her head. Her gaze wandered aimlessly before finally settling—unfortunately, it settled in exactly the wrong place: on the bowl of lotus-root-flour dumplings sitting beside Noble Consort Hui.

“Your Ladyship…” Seeing her swallowing repeatedly, even Zhilan could no longer stand it. She leaned close to Noble Consort Hui’s ear and whispered softly, “This girl… she seems a bit dim-witted…”

Do you think I can’t see what you can? Noble Consort Hui beckoned with her finger. “Come here.”

Wei Yingluo let out an “Oh,” but apparently failed to understand that this meant she should stand up. She remained on her knees and shuffled forward on them all the way to Noble Consort Hui’s feet. The sight of her groveling like a lowly dog nearly made Noble Consort Hui burst out laughing.

“Do you know what this is?” Noble Consort Hui asked, dangling the blue-and-white porcelain bowl in front of her like someone teasing a dog, swinging it left and right.

Wei Yingluo’s head followed the bowl’s movements left and right. She said stupidly, “Are these tangyuan? But why are they black? This servant has never seen black tangyuan before!”

“Poor child—have you really never eaten lotus-root-flour dumplings?” Noble Consort Hui smiled. “Here, they’re yours. Take them and eat.”

She handed the bowl to Wei Yingluo—but gave her no spoon.

“Thank you for the reward, Your Ladyship!” Wei Yingluo took the bowl with an expression of pure delight. Without waiting for a spoon, she simply lifted it to her lips and drank straight from it. The few dumplings that clung stubbornly to the bottom and refused to slide out, she dug out with her fingers and stuffed into her mouth.

“Is it good?” Noble Consort Hui asked kindly.

But anyone who truly knew her understood just how much malice lay hidden beneath that gentle tone.

“Good,” Wei Yingluo replied with a simple, honest grin.

She had never met this person before and could not yet fathom her temperament—but that did not stop Noble Consort Hui from using her own methods to discipline and test her.

“If it’s good, then eat more.” Noble Consort Hui waved her hand. “Zhilan—”

One after another, bowls were carried into Chuxiu Palace.

Blue-and-white porcelain bowls, colored lacquer bowls, fine white porcelain bowls… Though the bowls differed, what they contained was the same: each one filled to the brim with plump, perfectly rounded lotus-root-flour dumplings.

“Eat,” Noble Consort Hui said, reclining lazily in her chair and smiling at Wei Yingluo. “Finish them all before you leave.”

Half the bowls on the floor were already empty, yet more and more kept arriving from outside. Wei Yingluo’s belly was visibly bulging, yet she continued to devour them without pause, gulping and swallowing like someone who would never know the meaning of “full.”

Like a goldfish that doesn’t understand satiety: as long as someone keeps feeding it, it will literally eat itself to death.

Burp.

“Your Highness Noble Consort, you’re truly so kind—you don’t even despise this servant for being greedy!” Wei Yingluo lifted another blue-and-white bowl. Burp. “So delicious… This servant, this servant… urk…”

Some of what she had swallowed was already leaking from the corners of her mouth, yet she seemed completely oblivious, panting heavily as she gulped down the soup still in the bowl.

No Noble Lady in the palace had ever witnessed such a revolting scene. Noble Consort Hui wrinkled her brow, letting out a sneer that mixed disgust with contempt:

“She really is an idiot! I’m tired—get her out of here at once. Just looking at her is an eyesore!”

Zhilan also found it disgusting and didn’t even want to touch Wei Yingluo with her hands. She simply stretched out her foot and nudged her. “That’s enough. Stop eating already. The consort has ordered you to leave!”

Wei Yingluo suddenly sucked in a big mouthful of the soup. Only when Zhilan kicked her again did she pitifully turn her head, mouth still full, speaking indistinctly: “But this servant hasn’t finished eating yet!”

Her gaze fell on the bowl in Wei Yingluo’s hands. Zhilan felt as though even the bowl had become tainted just by being near her. Frowning, she said, “Take the bowl with you!”

“Really?” Wei Yingluo’s eyes lit up.

“Get lost—now!”

Wei Yingluo hurriedly dumped all the remaining lotus-root-flour dumplings into the same bowl, then clutched it to her chest and ran off.

“This… what kind of person is this?!” Watching her keep turning back again and again, as if terrified that someone might change their mind and demand the dumplings back, Zhilan couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. When she returned and recounted the incident to Noble Consort Hui, even the consort couldn’t help showing a similarly dumbfounded, half-amused, half-exasperated expression.

“Next time, ask the Imperial Household Department just what kind of people they’re recruiting!” Noble Consort Hui shook her head as though trying to shake some nauseating image out of her mind. “This is simply an idiot!”

Zhilan had been about to agree, but suddenly she remembered the magnificent sunrise-cloud embroidery she had seen when she first stepped into the embroidery workshop.

A vast expanse of rosy clouds stretching across the sky—among ten thousand people, perhaps not even one could possess such extraordinary skill. Could something like that really be embroidered by an idiot?

Noticing her hesitation, Noble Consort Hui asked, “What is it?”

After hesitating for a long moment, Zhilan finally voiced her true thoughts: “Your Highness… do you think… perhaps she’s only pretending to be stupid?”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 19: A Man and a Woman Alone

   With a heavy clang, the door of the storeroom slammed shut.

“It’s too dark,” Wei Yingluo murmured.

Behind her came the sharp hiss of a fire striker being lit.

The candlestick on the table was ignited; a small flame danced on the wick. The warm yellow candlelight illuminated a strikingly handsome face.

Long, narrow brows; long, narrow eyes; and similarly long, slender fingers. He resembled a refined scholar painted in fine-line white—an elegant, noble figure from an ancient scroll—except that a faint melancholy lingered between his brows.

That melancholy did not diminish his beauty; on the contrary, it made him stand out even more distinctly among the crowd.

“When Uncle Wei said you were in the palace, I didn’t dare believe it,” he said, shielding the candle flame with his right hand until the flickering light gradually steadied. “I never expected to actually see you today.”

Among the six guards they had encountered in the corridor earlier, the one walking at the very front had been Fucha Fuheng. The one in second position was the man standing before her now.

“And then?” Wei Yingluo asked without turning her head.

“I was also deeply grieved by Yingning’s death.” The man lifted his gaze to her back, his eyes gentle. “But this is the Forbidden City. You cannot act recklessly. You should listen to your father—leave the palace soon, go back out, and find a good family to marry into…”

“Enough!” Wei Yingluo finally turned around; her gaze was as cold as ice and snow. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

The man sighed. “Because Yingning and I were once close…”

“Don’t you dare mention her name again!” Wei Yingluo cut him off sharply. She hated many people, but she hated the man in front of her most of all. “You and my sister were once close—then why, when she needed you the most, did you abandon her without a moment’s hesitation?”

The melancholy between the man’s brows grew heavier. “She was a bondservant of the Imperial Household Department. Sooner or later she would have to enter the palace. Did you expect me to wait until she was twenty-five?”

“No, Young Master Qingxi.” Wei Yingluo gave a mocking laugh. “It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait for her to leave the palace. It’s because we come from lowly origins. No matter how beautiful my sister was, no matter how virtuous, intelligent, and capable she might have been, a lofty young master like you would never formally marry a woman of inferior birth!”

Seeing the other party fall silent, Wei Yingluo stepped closer and pressed, “What? Did I hit a nerve? Your surname is Qijia—you’re noble Manchu aristocracy. Though my sister came from humble origins, she still had backbone. Since you’ve made a clean break, the two of you have no further connection!”

Qingxi let out a deep sigh. “But I’ve never stopped thinking about your sister…”

“Thinking about her?” Wei Yingluo gave a scornful laugh. “And then when something happened to her in the palace, you just stood by and watched… When clearly you were the only one by her side, the only one who could have helped her—and you just stood there and watched!”

Qingxi closed his eyes in pain. The agonizing memories made even this warrior, strong enough to wrestle a tiger, tremble. “I… after all, I’m a guard. I cannot have dealings with palace maids.”

“I’m a palace maid too,” Wei Yingluo said coldly, taking in his reaction without the slightest softening. “We shouldn’t have dealings either. Now kindly step aside.”

What dealings could there be?

   When her sister needed him most, he had walked away.

   If he had only been toying with her sister, she would hate him for that.

   But if he truly loved her sister, then she hated him even more—for being such a coward!

   As she brushed past him, a sigh came from behind her.

“Every five days,” Qingxi’s voice sounded at her back. “I stand guard once every five days. If there is ever trouble, you may come to the guards’ station and find me!”

Wei Yingluo’s footsteps paused for a moment, then she continued forward. Her hands had just reached the door bolt and she had not yet opened it when suddenly there came a frantic pounding—bang bang bang—followed by Aunt Fang’s voice: “Open the door! Open this door right now!”

Wei Yingluo started in alarm. She turned and exchanged a quick glance with Qingxi.

A man and a woman alone together in a room—if they were truly caught like this, a hundred mouths couldn’t explain it away.

Qingxi’s lips moved as though he were about to speak, but a hand shot out from the opposite side and stopped him. Wei Yingluo mouthed silently to him: Do exactly as I say.

Bang bang bang, bang bang bang—Aunt Fang was still hammering on the door. But in the next instant the door flew open. Before she could react, a bamboo basket came crashing down over her head, followed by a flurry of punches and kicks, accompanied by Wei Yingluo’s voice—half frightened, half furious: “You dare follow me? You dare follow me, you shameless creep, you rogue!”

“Stop! Stop it!” Aunt Fang, who was used to being the one doing the beating, never the one receiving it, scrambled desperately to escape, squealing like a stuck pig. “Wei Yingluo, you’ve gone mad! Stop it—stop right now! Help! Somebody help—save me!”

A group of young palace maids rushed forward at once, some grabbing arms, others hugging legs, and finally managed to pull the two apart.

Aunt Fang yanked the bamboo basket off her head. Her face was livid as she glared at Wei Yingluo. “Yingluo, you’ve lost your mind—how dare you raise a hand against me!”

Wei Yingluo let out an “Ah!” Her own face turned even darker than Aunt Fang’s. “Auntie… how—how could it be you?”

Before Aunt Fang could explode, she dropped to her knees first and began to sob pitifully. “Auntie, please do justice for me! I only came out to look for a lost handkerchief. I never expected someone would follow me on the way—I didn’t know whether it was some lustful little eunuch or some ill-intentioned guard. In a panic I locked myself in the storeroom. Thank goodness you came… sob sob…”

“Some lustful little eunuch or some ill-intentioned guard?” Aunt Fang laughed in furious disbelief. “Listen to your nonsense—couldn’t you recognize my voice? Or does my voice sound so much like a man’s to you?”

“I was truly terrified,” Wei Yingluo said, her shoulders trembling slightly as though she had suffered a great fright. She lifted her sleeve to wipe her tears. “In the moment I couldn’t tell at all. I beg Auntie’s forgiveness…”

“Look at the bruises on my arm.” Aunt Fang rolled up her sleeve, revealing the dark marks from being pinched earlier, and said coldly, “How am I supposed to forgive you for this?”

Wei Yingluo promptly kowtowed without hesitation. “I am willing to accept Auntie’s punishment.”

And so the matter was dropped. Though Wei Yingluo was still punished, it was only for unknowingly beating Aunt Fang. And because Aunt Fang was greedy for money, the punishment fell heavily on fines in coin and goods. After paying a sufficient amount, she only received a token two strokes of the board on her body.

It was far better than being discovered alone in a room with a young imperial guard.

That wasn’t something that could be settled with just a few strokes of the board or a bit of money.

“Fortunately, Qingxi is a true Baturu—quick and agile. He was able to slip away unnoticed amid the chaos I caused.” Wei Yingluo lay face-down on the bed. The wounds on her back had just been medicated, but they still burned fiercely, so painfully that she couldn’t sleep. She could only close her eyes and let her thoughts wander. “But… who was the one who informed on us…?”

Moonlight slanted in through the window, falling in a straight, silver beam across the head of Wei Yingluo’s bed. Slowly, she reached into her bosom and drew out a small braided cord. She spread it open in the moonlight and gazed at it quietly.

“It wasn’t entirely without reward.” Wei Yingluo spoke softly to the cord, her gaze gentle. “Sister, after so long in the palace, I’ve finally found a clue.”

Memories of the past flooded back, vivid and clear.

Last night’s stars, last night’s breeze—it had also been a night when moonlight flowed like silk. She had rested her head on Wei Yingning’s lap, watching her sister’s ten fingers dance as a delicate plum-blossom braided cord gradually took shape at her fingertips.

That plum-blossom cord had entered the palace together with her sister, yet it had not left the palace with her.

Instead, during today’s fight, it had fallen from Aunt Fang’s person.

“Aunt Fang…” Wei Yingluo’s five fingers clenched, gripping the plum-blossom cord tightly in her palm. “How could my sister’s plum-blossom cord end up in your hands?”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 18: the Guard

Wei Yingluo spent the next few days in fear and trepidation. Whether she was working or resting, her eyes would unconsciously drift toward the main gate.

She was terrified that at any moment someone would push the door open and shout: “Wei Yingluo! You’ve been exposed—come with us!”

Suddenly a hand clapped her shoulder. Wei Yingluo nearly jumped out of her skin. “What? What is it?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Jixiang gave her a strange look. “Sister Yingluo, look over there.”

Wei Yingluo followed her gaze. Several imperial guards were walking down the corridor—six in total, all tall and upright, handsome in appearance. Dressed in martial uniforms and wearing swords at their waists, they exuded the utmost masculine valor.

“Look at that one—the last one in line,” Jixiang said in a nostalgic tone. “He looks so much like my older brother.”

“Oh please,” Jinxiu burst out laughing. “Stop putting gold on your brother’s face.”

Jixiang glared at her. “What kind of way is that to talk!”

“I’m not wrong.” Jinxiu waved her fingernails, which she had secretly dyed red with garden balsam juice. “Do you think the guards inside the Forbidden City are just ordinary people? This red wall of the Forbidden City is the dividing line between different kinds of guards!”

Jixiang didn’t understand the meaning behind her words and was unwilling to ask her for clarification, so she turned instead to Wei Yingluo. “Sister Yingluo, can you explain it to me? What does ‘the dividing line for guards’ mean?”

Wei Yingluo sighed and explained as concisely as she could: “The guards outside the red wall belong to the Lower Five Banners, while the guards inside the red wall are all from the Upper Three Banners—imperial relatives and noble descendants.”

Jixiang nodded half-understandingly, then shook her head. “I still don’t get it. Does that mean Noble Ladies have to become guards too?”

“Of course not!” Jinxiu jumped in eagerly. She loved to show off and loved even more to appear more knowledgeable than others. “Let alone the highest rank—the Imperial Bodyguards—even the Qianqing Gate Guards have an extremely high chance of rising to become generals or grand ministers in the future, achieving extraordinary things! Don’t forget: the ones who stay closest to the Emperor at all times are naturally the ones who rise step by step!”

The other palace maids also began chattering all at once, pointing and commenting on the six guards.

“I heard that every year, the noble sons of the Upper Three Banners have to compete in martial contests just to fight for a guard position inside the Forbidden City.”

“It’s not enough to have high birth—you also need truly outstanding martial skills.”

“The most exceptional among the guards is said to be Her Majesty’s younger brother, Lord Fucha. A true master of both civil and military arts, genuine imperial kin!”

“Which one is he? Is he in there?”

“The one leading them—the tallest one!”

Jinxiu’s expression flickered. Suddenly she shoved the tray in her hands into Jixiang’s arms, then clutched her stomach and said, “I have an urgent need—I’ve got to find a place to relieve myself. Jixiang, do me a favor and take these things to the embroidery workshop for me. Ai yo, ai yo, I’m going first!”

“What kind of person is she? Always so much trouble.” Jixiang muttered discontentedly, but didn’t think much more of it.

Beside her, Wei Yingluo watched the direction in which the other girl had disappeared, deep in thought.

She had been in the palace for some time now. If nothing else, her sense of direction had certainly improved—otherwise, wandering into a place she wasn’t supposed to enter would earn her a beating at the very least.

The direction the guards were heading was toward the Imperial Garden, which was also the route to Changchun Palace. If the six guards were to split up here, then in all likelihood Fucha Fuheng was going to Changchun Palace to visit his older sister.

Jinxiu hid behind a rockery, her face flushed, her heart pounding wildly. She kept craning her neck to peek out. Her persistence paid off—she finally caught sight of a lone figure approaching. Gritting her teeth, she picked up a stone and smashed it hard against her own foot.

It hurt!

Fortunately she had already stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth beforehand, so she didn’t cry out in pain.

Supporting herself against the rockery with one hand, Jinxiu staggered to her feet. Judging that the person was now on the other side of the rockery, she used her other hand to smooth the hair at her temple and adjust her facial expression, making herself look even more pitiful and fragile, like a willow swaying in the wind.

Everything was ready. Jinxiu rushed out!

But an arm suddenly reached out from the side and yanked her back behind the rockery.

Outside the rockery, Fucha Fuheng walked past.

Behind the rockery, Jinxiu violently tore away the hand covering her mouth and hissed in fury, “Wei Yingluo! What are you doing!”

“I’ll return that question to you.” Yingluo stared at her. “Jinxiu, what are you trying to do?”

“Every woman wants to secure a good future for herself—what did I do wrong?” Jinxiu suddenly looked Wei Yingluo up and down, suspicion dawning in her eyes. “Don’t tell me… you’ve also set your sights on this tall branch?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Wei Yingluo gave a mocking laugh, then let the smile fade and spoke coldly: “You and I are both bond servants from the Upper Three Banners. Back when you were still at home, did any sons of dutong or canling ever come to propose to you? Forget dutong or canling—even the son of a banner captain probably never gave you a proper look! If even those families treated you that way, how much more so these true high nobles?”

Her warning was met only with Jinxiu’s dismissive scoff: “As long as you’re beautiful enough, how do you know I can’t climb that high?”

Wei Yingluo paused, stunned for a moment, then frowned at her. “You mean… become his concubine?”

Jinxiu nodded firmly and without hesitation. “Better to be a concubine to a powerful man than a wife to a poor one!”

Everyone has their own ambitions; one cannot force them.

Wei Yingluo shook her head, inwardly concluding that this woman possessed a lovely outer shell but was stuffed full of vanity, unrealistic desires, and extreme selfishness.

“What you think is your own business,” she said coldly, “but remember one thing: this is the Forbidden City. If a guard and a palace maid are caught in an illicit affair and word gets out, he—who comes from noble imperial blood—can have it quietly brushed aside. But you? You’ll be finished. Dead end.” Her expression hardened. “You and I came here together, and we live in the same quarters. If you cause such a scandal, the rest of us will be dragged down and gossiped about along with you.”

Jinxiu gave a mocking laugh. “So it turns out this is all for your own sake.”

“Yes—and it’s also for your own sake.” Wei Yingluo returned a faint smile. “If you don’t want me to tell Aunt Fang what happened today, then come back with me right now.”

Seeing her use Aunt Fang to pressure her again, Jinxiu laughed in furious exasperation and was about to retort sharply when a rich, mellow male voice suddenly came from the other side of the rockery:

“I think this young lady is quite right.”

Immediately afterward, a man in guard’s uniform appeared, arms crossed, stepping around the rockery with a smile directed at them. “You two really should be heading back.”

“Lord Fucha…” Both girls turned at once to look at him.

Some people could wear the dragon robe and still not look like an emperor; others could wear a guard’s uniform and still not look like a mere guard.

Fucha Fuheng was precisely that sort of person.

His bearing was far too noble and refined. Even standing there casually, he resembled a phoenix alighting on a parasol tree, feathers gently unfurling. On anyone else, the simple guard’s attire would signify status; on him, it felt like a deliberate lowering of rank.

His long, narrow phoenix eyes swept across Wei Yingluo’s face. Beneath the outer corner of his right eye lay a single tear mole, adding an indescribable layer of ambiguity and sensuality to his already regal elegance.

“Wei Yingluo,” he called, his voice like fine wine that had been cellared for years—uncorked, it intoxicated before even touching the lips.

Wei Yingluo resorted to her usual tactic, deliberately bowing her head deeply to keep him from fixating on her appearance. “…Lord Fucha, do you have any further instructions?”

“Lift your head and look at me,” Fucha Fuheng said.

With no choice, Wei Yingluo slowly raised her eyes to meet his.

No wonder Jinxiu had declared she wanted to become his concubine.

Those phoenix eyes before her were at once ruthless and yet seemed full of feeling. He didn’t need to speak a single word; merely looking at you with those eyes was enough to fill your heart with a flood of tender affection.

“You have a very clear sense of your own position—that’s good. But you’ve still overlooked one thing.” Fucha Fuheng casually patted the saber at his waist. “The palace guards are all first-rate Baturu (warrior)—including me. Any one of us… would immediately notice someone hiding behind a rockery.”

In other words, Jinxiu’s little scheme had been doomed from the very beginning.

And even if it had somehow succeeded, it would only be because the guard had deliberately allowed himself to be “tricked”—so he could toy with the beauty who had thrown herself into his hands.

Jinxiu bowed her head in shame. Beside her, Wei Yingluo also lowered hers. “Yes… I have learned my lesson.”

“Very well. You should go now.” Fucha Fuheng nodded slightly toward Jinxiu beside her. “Help her back. Discipline her properly when the time calls for it, so she doesn’t cause serious trouble later.”

Wei Yingluo hurriedly supported Jinxiu and led her away. All along the way, Jinxiu’s expression remained sullen—whether from the pain in her foot or from Fucha Fuheng’s words, no one could tell.

“Did you hear that? There are no fools in this palace. Don’t be foolish again,” Wei Yingluo advised one last time.

As expected, the only response was a cold, jealous laugh. Jinxiu shoved her away, limping off alone toward the maids’ quarters. Her voice carried a trace of agitation:

“You used me as a stepping stone again! Lord Fucha remembered your name—but not mine!”

Wei Yingluo shook her head.

This would be the last time. From now on, she would never advise Jinxiu again. Whatever trouble Jinxiu got herself into in the future would have nothing to do with her—she could take responsibility for herself.

Thud.

A small pebble rolled to a stop at Wei Yingluo’s feet. She looked in the direction from which it had been thrown, frowned, and suddenly spoke:

“Are you sure you want to walk back by yourself? You don’t want me to help you?”

“Nonsense!” Jinxiu, hearing this from ahead, immediately quickened her pace. “Who needs your fake kindness? I can walk on my own!”

Enduring the pain in her foot, Jinxiu made her way all the way back to the palace maids’ quarters. The moment she saw the bed, she threw herself onto it, collapsing completely. The sweat from her body left a perfect human-shaped imprint on the bedding.

“Aiyo, what happened to you? You look absolutely wrecked,” said Jixiang as she passed by, a piece of pastry still stuffed in her mouth.

“Eat, eat, eat—that’s all you know how to do. You finish your own share and then go after Wei Yingluo’s too. Do you think she’s being nice to you? She just wants to fatten you up so that standing next to you makes her look even slimmer… Wait!” Having reflexively started sowing discord, Jinxiu suddenly looked around left and right. “Where’s Wei Yingluo?”

“Didn’t she go chasing after you?” Jixiang stuffed another piece of pastry into her mouth. “What, she didn’t catch up?”

Jinxiu froze for a moment, then lowered her head and carefully recalled what had just happened.

In the direction the pebble had come from—what was there?

A lush, verdant wisteria trellis, its dense leaves concealing singing birds, its fragrant breeze lingering around a beauty.

Indeed, a beauty.

A guard whose mere profile already conveyed an upright, slender figure and strikingly handsome features.

Jinxiu abruptly sat up on the bed, her eyes blazing like twin flames.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 17: First Meeting

   “I don’t understand.” After returning, Wei Yingluo racked her brains but still couldn’t figure it out. So she sought out the only person who could give her an answer. “Momo Zhang, why did Concubine Yi die?”

“A dignified consort, publicly slapped in the face—could she still hold her head up in the palace after that?” Momo Zhang replied indifferently while embroidering a peony flower. “Anyone else might have endured it, but her temperament is famously proud and aloof…”

In other words, Noble Consort Hui knew her personality all too well and deliberately used this humiliating method to force her into such unbearable shame that she chose to take her own life.

“…How foolish.” Wei Yingluo’s face was clouded with gloom; it was unclear whether she was speaking to Concubine Yi or to herself. “Only by staying alive does one have the chance to turn things around. If it were me, forget being slapped—I could even endure having someone spit in my face. I’d endure it all the way until the day I could take revenge and wash away the humiliation!”

A bone-chilling, piercing hatred radiated from her, making Momo Zhang’s skin prickle. She couldn’t help but set down her embroidery hoop and stare at her in shock. “You…”

“It’s nothing.” The surge of hatred came quickly and vanished just as fast. Looking at Wei Yingluo’s face now—bright with a sweet, charming smile—it felt as though that earlier coldness and fury had been nothing more than Momo Zhang’s imagination. “Momo, I’ve finished embroidering. What do you think?”

Momo Zhang took the hoop she handed over. On it was a white peony. Together with the large crimson peony Momo Zhang had yet to finish beside her, both were being prepared for Noble Consort Hui.

This consort was never willing to fall behind anyone. Noble Lady Yu was getting two new outfits—so she demanded twenty. On top of that, matching embroidered handkerchiefs and new shoes, all in peony patterns. Not a single color could repeat, not a single flower design could repeat. It had utterly exhausted the embroidery workshop’s maids.

In the end, even Momo Zhang had to personally take up the needle to barely finish all the patterns within the allotted time.

“Hm, not bad.” Momo Zhang nodded, then glanced at the sky outside. “It’s already this late—you haven’t eaten lunch yet, have you? Go eat quickly.”

“Yes.” Wei Yingluo replied obediently. “I’ll eat fast and try to come back early. I want to finish tonight’s work before the night is over.”

She was always so considerate and likable. Momo Zhang nodded, thinking that her earlier impression must truly have been an illusion…

But after leaving the embroidery workshop, Yingluo did not go to eat.

She couldn’t swallow a single bite.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those two feet hanging in the air.

Suddenly opening her eyes wide, Yingluo kicked hard at the tree in front of her.

There were far too many bastards in this rear palace—and the worst part was that they all held high positions and great power. She couldn’t afford to provoke a single one of them. So she could only treat the tree in front of her as their stand-in, kicking it again and again to vent the stifling rage in her heart.

“Insolent servant!”

Wei Yingluo’s heart jolted. She whipped around sharply.

She was so completely absorbed in venting the resentment pent up inside her that she didn’t even notice someone had arrived behind her.

Judging from his clothing and the exquisite horsetail whisk resting across his elbow, this was a eunuch of extremely high status. He barked sharply:

“The Emperor is present—why aren’t you kneeling?!”

…The Emperor?

   Wei Yingluo froze for a moment, then hurriedly dropped to her knees, pressing her face tightly against the back of her own hands.

“This humble servant respectfully greets Your Majesty and wishes You ten thousand years of health.”

The sound of footsteps approached her slowly.

A pair of bright yellow boots stopped right in front of her. A languid male voice sounded above her head:

“Who gave you permission to harm Lingbai?”

Lingbai?

Yingluo’s heart sank—this was bad. Anything given the prefix “ling” (spiritual) immediately became something extraordinary, no longer an ordinary object. She had likely committed a grave offense. At this point she could only pretend to be puzzled:

“This servant boldly asks—I do not know what Lingbai is.”

“You insolent thing! This very tree is Lingbai!” The chief eunuch pointed his whisk at the tree she had just kicked earlier and scolded, “It bears the Emperor’s own brush-written inscription of the two characters ‘Ling Bai.’ Look—there’s even a copper plaque hanging on the back! In the past, countless people would kowtow and pay reverence to it, yet you dared to injure it like this!”

He still had the patience to explain to Wei Yingluo, but the other person clearly did not—or rather, had no interest in wasting time on a foolish little palace maid.

“Drag her away.” The bright yellow boots slowly moved away from her. “Thirty strokes of the heavy staff.”

Thirty strokes?

Wei Yingluo’s face instantly turned pale.

Thirty heavy staff blows—most people wouldn’t die, but they would lose half their life. Afterward she would need a long period of recovery and medical care. Where did she have that kind of time to waste?

Even worse, receiving punishment would become a permanent stain.

A person who had been personally ordered punished by the Emperor—how could she ever stand firm in the harem afterward?

Most likely even Noble Lady Yu and Momo Zhang would have to draw a clear line with her on the surface, lest they accidentally displease His Majesty.

From then on, she would be unable to take even a single step forward in the palace.

She absolutely could not allow such a stain on her record!

“Having entered the palace not long ago, this servant did not recognize Lingbai. However, there is a reason for what this servant did!” Sweat beaded at Wei Yingluo’s temples as she desperately racked her brains.

The bright yellow boots paused.

“Oh?”

Since it was called “spiritual,” it was something profoundly mysterious. In matters like this, there was no need to adhere to ordinary human reason. Wei Yingluo’s eyes darted once; gritting her teeth, she simply went all in:

“This servant truly did not know this was Lingbai. However, last night an old tree appeared to this servant in a dream. It said that it had stood here for many years and its body felt unbearably itchy. It asked this servant to come to the garden, find it, and scratch its back—What this servant was doing just now was precisely scratching its itch for it!”

The chief eunuch sneered coldly:

“The more you speak, the more absurd it becomes. How could a tree appear to you in a dream!”

Wei Yingluo had been waiting precisely for those words. She immediately kowtowed hard, her forehead striking the ground with a resounding thud:

“Since this cypress tree possesses spirituality and is able to provide shade for His Majesty, naturally it can also appear to this humble servant in a dream! Every word this servant has spoken is the absolute truth—there is not a single falsehood!”

The chief eunuch was rendered speechless by her argument. In the end he could only turn his gaze toward the one person present who could decide.

“Enough.” Yet the voice above sounded careless and indifferent:

“Let’s go.”

From the corner of her eye, Wei Yingluo saw the bright yellow boots pass right beside her, followed by pair after pair of black boots, pair after pair of white embroidered shoes, and numerous waist-sheathed sabers—a grand procession that moved off into the distance.

Only after they had gone far did Wei Yingluo finally let out a long breath and collapse weakly onto the ground, her whole body limp with exhaustion.

She had escaped disaster.

Thwack!

A sharp rap landed on the back of her head.

“Ouch.” Wei Yingluo turned her head. “Momo, why are you here?”

“You little brat!” Sweat was also beading on Momo Zhang’s face. “The moment I take my eyes off you for a second, you nearly cause a catastrophe!”

Being scolded like this, Wei Yingluo actually felt her heart soften a little.

“This is personally bestowed by the Emperor himself—sacred spiritual wood.” While helping Wei Yingluo up from the ground, Momo Zhang explained, “Back when the Emperor was traveling incognito during the height of summer, all the ministers were drenched in sweat, yet the Emperor didn’t have a single drop. Everyone found it strange. When the Emperor spoke of it, it was as though, in some mysterious way, a giant cypress had followed him all the way from the Forbidden City, providing shade. Everyone said it was the sacred cypress that knew the Emperor was traveling and deliberately came along to protect him!”

She rambled on at such length precisely because she wanted Wei Yingluo to be more cautious in her actions.

In the palace, some people were dangerous to provoke—and sometimes even trees were.

“I understand.” Wei Yingluo sighed, gazing steadily at the delicate, noble tree beside her, and murmured, “In the Forbidden City, even a tree favored by the Emperor is worth more than a person who has fallen out of favor.”

On the other side, the pair of bright yellow boots suddenly stopped.

All the boots behind them stopped at the same moment.

“Your Majesty?” The chief eunuch looked at him in confusion.

“I was just thinking about court affairs…” Hongli said slowly.

The chief eunuch assumed an attentive, ears-perked posture.

“So it took me a while to react.” Hongli slowly turned his head. The tree shadows swayed; droplets of light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, falling like golden rain across his body and face. Suddenly he smiled. “Now that I think about it carefully—a mere little palace maid—on what basis would a sacred cypress appear to her in a dream?”

Your Majesty, you’re only just realizing this now?!

The chief eunuch thought this in his heart, but on the surface he showed the same righteous indignation, as though he too had only just realized it. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Exactly! This servant only just realized it too. That little girl opened her mouth and spun a whole pack of lies, one after another. She should be arrested—at once—and executed!”

“Do you still remember what she looked like?” Hongli asked calmly, hands clasped behind his back.

The chief eunuch was stunned for a moment, then racked his brains trying to recall…

“Can’t remember, can you?” Hongli said lightly. “All the palace maids dress exactly the same. And right after she spoke, she immediately knelt down, pressing her entire face against the back of her hand. She never lifted her head once.”

The chief eunuch was dumbfounded. “This… this… she did it on purpose…”

Women in the rear palace were all desperate to “show their face.”

Who would have thought someone would go to such lengths to hide her face?

“Now it’s like water poured into the sea, a leaf fallen into the forest. If we want to find her again, we can only try to recognize her by her voice.” Hongli gazed at the swaying trees in the Imperial Garden and said unhurriedly, “Li Yu, while you still remember her voice, go and find that person for me.”

“—Oh, right.” After a moment’s thought, he added with a half-smile, “When you find her, don’t kill her right away. Bring her to me first.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 16: New Leaves Are Poisonous

   The three of them waited a long time before finally being received by Noble Lady Yu.

They say pregnant women are the happiest and most beautiful, yet her face was completely blank. When Momo Zhang told her to raise her arm, she raised it; when told to turn, she turned—like a marionette whose strings had been cut, unable to move on its own.

“That’s enough.” After Momo Zhang finished taking her measurements, she asked gently, “What pattern does Noble Lady prefer? Pomegranates with many seeds? Auspicious clouds and immortal cranes?”

Noble Lady Yu looked dazed, her lips moving faintly up and down, murmuring something extremely soft and low.

“Noble Lady, what did you say?” Momo Zhang had to lean her ear close before she could barely make out the words.

“Loquat paste, loquat paste, loquat paste…” Noble Lady Yu kept repeating these three words.

Momo Zhang was stunned for a moment. “Loquat paste?”

These two words seemed to strike Noble Lady Yu like a trigger. She suddenly shouted, “There must be something wrong with that loquat paste!”

Momo Zhang was startled by her outburst. Reflexively, she turned to glance outside the door. Concubine Yi’s punishment was still ongoing, and Noble Consort Hui’s dog-like servants were still standing outside. Who knew if there might be someone with especially sharp ears listening in?

“Noble Lady.” Momo Zhang quickly turned back and cautiously advised, “Physician Zhang is highly skilled. How could he possibly make a misdiagnosis…”

“No, no, no! There’s definitely a problem, definitely a problem!” Noble Lady Yu interrupted her. Then she stared at Momo Zhang for a long time. Suddenly her eyes lit up. She grabbed Momo Zhang’s shoulders tightly and said, “I recognize you. You were there that day too. And you… and you…”

Her gaze slid past Jinxiu and finally landed on Wei Yingluo’s face. With a hollow, shadowy smile she said, “You were all there. You all saw it. Noble Consort Hui wants to harm me. There must be poison in the loquat paste. But… but why couldn’t it be detected? Why? Why?!”

Noble Lady Yu’s voice grew louder and louder, eventually turning into near-hysterical questioning.

Sweat beaded on the tip of Momo Zhang’s nose. She wished she could reach out and cover the Noble Lady’s mouth, but bound by propriety, she could only keep glancing toward the door while pleading, “Noble Lady, this servant begs you—please stop talking…”

“New leaves are poisonous.”

Both Momo Zhang and Noble Lady Yu froze, then turned toward the voice.

Wei Yingluo kept her head lowered and said softly, “Mature loquat leaves are non-toxic. The young leaves are poisonous…”

A chill ran down Momo Zhang’s back. She snapped urgently, “Be quiet!”

“Be quiet!” Noble Lady Yu screamed at her, then quickly stepped in front of Wei Yingluo, her voice trembling slightly. “Go on.”

Wei Yingluo still kept her head bowed, staring at the pale golden osmanthus pattern on the hem of the skirt before her, and continued quietly, “When I was little, I loved eating loquats. Once I accidentally swallowed a seed and had difficulty breathing and kept vomiting. Later a traveling doctor told me that physicians follow the pharmacopoeia to make medicine, and the pharmacopoeia uses aged loquat leaves to make loquat paste. Most people don’t know why. He discovered it by chance: mature loquat leaves are non-toxic, while young leaves and the seeds are poisonous. Taking too much can endanger one’s life…”

“So that’s how it is, so that’s how it is. Young leaves are poisonous, young leaves are poisonous.” Noble Lady Yu murmured the words over and over. “The loquat paste Noble Consort Hui sent must have been made with young leaves. The toxicity is extremely faint, no wonder Physician Zhang didn’t notice it. And even if it were discovered, they could simply claim it was a mistake at the Imperial Pharmacy…”

Suddenly Noble Lady Yu grabbed Wei Yingluo’s arm, her expression feverish. “Come! Come with me to see the Empress!”

“Absolutely not!” Momo Zhang hurriedly blocked them. “Noble Lady, how can the words of a mere palace maid be taken seriously? Is she more reliable than Physician Zhang? Yingluo, do you know what happens when you speak recklessly in the palace? Kneel down!”

Wei Yingluo obediently knelt.

“Noble Lady,” she kowtowed and said, “This servant is of lowly status. Only because of your kindness was I given the chance to speak. But before Her Majesty the Empress, this servant may not even have the opportunity to open my mouth.”

In short, the Empress might not necessarily believe the words of someone as insignificant as her.

“…I understand.” Noble Lady Yu came back to her senses. She looked at Wei Yingluo with a complicated expression and slowly released her grip on the girl’s arm. “I’ll go plead my case to the Empress myself. You…”

After a pause, she asked in a much gentler tone, “What is your name?”

“This servant is called Yingluo,” Wei Yingluo replied respectfully.

Noble Lady Yu nodded at her, then hurried out the door.

The moment she left, Momo Zhang glared fiercely at Wei Yingluo. “Why did you say those things to Noble Lady Yu?!”

Why?

Wei Yingluo gazed at Noble Lady Yu’s retreating figure.

“Protecting oneself wisely—there are most things I can simply ignore, but them alone, this kind of sisterly bond…” Wei Yingluo thought silently to herself, “I cannot just stand by and do nothing. When I see them, it’s as if I’m seeing my older sister and me…”

So, for the sake of this rare and precious sisterly affection, she was willing to take the risk just once.

“Besides, it’s not as if there’s no gain at all.” She mused inwardly. “The rear palace is full of cliques and factions. The two largest are the Empress’s and Noble Consort Hui’s. If I truly offend Noble Consort Hui because of this, I will naturally be drawn into the Empress’s camp… The effect might even be better than directly throwing myself at the Empress. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Wei Yingluo had originally thought she had considered every angle.

But very soon, she realized she had still underestimated this rear palace—and underestimated other people.

“Yingluo!” After returning to the embroidery workshop, Momo Zhang dismissed everyone else and kept only Wei Yingluo behind. Holding her disciplinary ruler in hand, she barked sternly, “Kneel!”

Unlike Aunt Fang, Momo Zhang usually had a sharp tongue but a soft heart; the ruler in her hand had always been more for show and had never truly struck any young palace maid. Now, however, she was genuinely furious. Wei Yingluo hurriedly knelt, then lifted her head to look at her—there was no fear or resentment in her eyes, only worry.

“Momo,” she called softly, like a little granddaughter calling to the grandmother who dotes on her most. “Please don’t be angry. I know I was wrong.”

Momo Zhang’s heart softened, yet her expression grew even sterner. “Do you know exactly where you went wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have told Noble Lady Yu directly, in front of everyone, that the new leaves were poisonous,” Wei Yingluo thought for a moment and said. “I should have written it on a piece of paper, then secretly slipped it into the new clothes being tailored for her. To be even safer, when delivering the clothes I could ‘accidentally’ let the note fall to the ground. If Noble Lady picked it up and asked me about it, I would lie and say I didn’t know who put it on me…”

“Enough!” Momo Zhang cut her off, her tone sinking. “In the end, no matter how many different methods you came up with, you still planned to tell Noble Lady Yu that the new leaves were poisonous?”

Wei Yingluo was silent for a long moment. In the end, she didn’t lie to her and answered quietly, “Yes.”

She had thought she would be punished by Momo Zhang—beaten or scolded—and she was ready to accept it. Yet what she waited for was only a cold, mocking laugh from Momo Zhang.

“Heh.” The laugh sounded half scornful, half pitying. “Then use your own eyes and see for yourself, Yingluo. See with your own eyes what the result of what you’ve done will be.”

The next few days passed in apparent calm.

Because of Momo Zhang’s words, Yingluo remained heavy-hearted and preoccupied.

But no matter how troubled she felt, she could not neglect the work at hand. She cut the fabric that needed cutting, embroidered the flowers that needed embroidering, and in the end, on the appointed day, she finished two new sets of clothing: one embroidered with pomegranates and many seeds (symbolizing numerous children), the other with auspicious clouds and wild cranes. She then delivered both to Noble Lady Yu together.

“I’ll keep this one,” Noble Lady Yu said, pointing to the pomegranate design. Then she pointed to the one with clouds and cranes. “You can deliver this one to Concubine Yi for me.”

Yingluo carefully observed her expression. Unlike the fearful and uneasy woman she had first met, today Noble Lady Yu wore light rouge, her abdomen slightly rounded, and a rare trace of happiness glowed on her face.

“While you’re at it, pass on a message to Concubine Yi from me.” Noble Lady Yu casually rewarded Yingluo with a hairpin. “Tell her to endure just a few more days. In a few days, the Empress will surely stand up for her.”

Yingluo tried several times to decline, but in the end she could not refuse and helplessly accepted the hairpin. At its head were a pair of twin lotuses, one red and one white, entwined together like the closest sisters in the world.

“I am Wei Yingluo, a palace maid from the embroidery workshop. Noble Lady Yu sent me to deliver a newly tailored garment to Concubine Yi.” Acting on someone’s entrustment and fulfilling their trust, Yingluo arrived at Concubine Yi’s residence holding the clothes and announced herself to the palace maid guarding the entrance.

When one prospers, all prosper; when one falls, all fall. Perhaps because Concubine Yi had been punished, the maids in her palace were also anxious and uneasy, their eyes flickering like birds about to scatter the moment a great tree begins to topple.

Hearing Yingluo’s purpose, one of the maids forced a smile. “It’s kind of Noble Lady Yu to still think of our little mistress. Just give the item to me.”

“Noble Lady Yu also has a message she wants me to deliver personally to Concubine Yi,” Yingluo said, pursing her lips with some difficulty. “…She especially instructed me to say it to her with my own mouth.”

The palace maid eyed her with suspicion and wariness for a moment.

“Or perhaps you could ask Concubine Yi first?” Yingluo suggested kindly. “If she’s willing to see me, I’ll go in. If she isn’t, I’ll go report back to Noble Lady Yu. That way, I won’t delay anything, and it won’t put you in a difficult position either.”

“…Fine.” The palace maid finally nodded reluctantly. “Wait here.”

She turned and left. Not long after, a piercing, miserable scream rang out from inside.

The people in the room exchanged glances—then suddenly, as one, they all stepped forward. Big feet, small feet, eunuchs and palace maids alike, in a chaotic rush, poured through the doorway.

Wei Yingluo’s feet were among them, but they suddenly froze right at the threshold of the bedchamber.

Through the open door, what met her eyes were two feet dangling in midair.

They must have belonged to a woman who loved cranes very much and carried herself with aloof pride—even the embroidered shoes swaying gently from side to side were stitched with cranes spreading their wings in flight.

Slowly, her gaze traveled upward along those shoes…

“Concubine Yi…” Wei Yingluo murmured.

A length of white silk was looped around Concubine Yi’s neck, hanging her straight from the beam of the roof.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 14: Administering Medicine

Wei Yingluo laughed.

“If you don’t know her, how could you be so certain that her embroidery is better than mine?” She sighed and lifted the embroidery frame in her hands. “My embroidery was taught to me by her. She taught with care, and I learned with care…”

From childhood, Wei Yingning had idolized her older sister. While most twin sisters wanted to be different from each other, she wished she could be exactly the same as her sister in every way.

So she copied her sister’s way of dressing and making up, imitated her every expression and smile, learned her way of walking—and also learned her embroidery.

“My talent is limited. Though I received ten-tenths of her true teaching, at most I only mastered seven or eight parts,” Wei Yingluo said to Momo Zhang. “So you’re right—when it comes to embroidery, Yingning is better.”

Momo Zhang remained silent for a long while.

“…Tell me about her,” Wei Yingluo said softly. “She once served in the embroidery workshop too. Perhaps she even worked under you?”

“There are so many people in the embroidery workshop—palace maids and embroidery women hired from outside. With so much work, who has time to remember all their names?” Momo Zhang replied expressionlessly. “Speaking of which, have you finished today’s tasks?”

Momo Zhang flatly denied it and awkwardly changed the subject, but Wei Yingluo could not let this opportunity slip away. She lowered her head obediently, her voice carrying a trace of pleading as she spoke to Momo Zhang:

“Momo, I’m young and ignorant, and I’m not good at making friends. I’ve been in the palace for so long and still haven’t made many. You’re the only one I can rely on. I beg you—please give me some guidance… How can I avoid repeating Wei Yingning’s tragedy?”

Momo Zhang fell silent once again.

This time, Wei Yingluo did not press her. Only masters have the right to hurry their servants. She was not the master; on the contrary, she worked under Momo Zhang—barely counting as a subordinate and servant to her.

Whether Momo Zhang would answer her question depended entirely on the goodwill she had painstakingly built up over the past month through flattery and compliance… and on how much weight her sister still carried in Momo Zhang’s heart.

Time passed minute by minute. Wei Yingluo kept her head lowered. The burning heat in her chest gradually began to cool. Was Momo Zhang refusing to answer because one month was simply too short? Indeed, she had been too impatient. She should have been more patient, spent several more months getting closer to her…

“…The palace is full of taboos. For example, the person you just mentioned.” Momo Zhang’s voice suddenly sounded above her head. “The third character in her name is Noble Consort Hui’s personal given name.”

Wei Yingluo looked up in shock.

Momo Zhang’s expression was extremely complicated. She did not look happy at all—no one would be pleased after being so obviously calculated against by a subordinate.

Yet even so, she still gave Wei Yingluo an answer.

“A Noble Lady’s personal name is not for servants to utter. So the person you spoke of must have changed her name here.” Momo Zhang spoke slowly. “This time I’ll let it pass, but don’t you dare mention that name anywhere else. If it reaches Noble Consort Hui’s ears, you’ll be in for a world of trouble! That’s enough work for today. You may go!”

“Momo…”

“Get out!”

The door of the Embroidery Workshop closed behind Wei Yingluo with a thud. She had practically been chased out by Momo Zhang.

Dazed and distracted, she returned to the palace maids’ quarters. Aunt Fang, seeing her back so early, immediately tossed several pairs of shoes and socks her way, ordering her to embroider beautiful patterns onto them.

Wei Yingluo embroidered absentmindedly. Several times the needle pricked her own finger. She put the bloodied, scar-covered finger into her mouth; the metallic, rusty taste of blood spread across her tongue.

“These emerald prayer beads look so pretty,” Jixiang said admiringly as she passed by.

Wei Yingluo lowered her head. Unbeknownst to her, she had somehow embroidered a string of emerald prayer beads onto the handkerchief. Looking at them now, what surfaced in her mind was a wrist wrapped in green prayer beads.

“Noble Consort Hui…” she murmured inwardly.

She had wondered when she might finally get the chance to see her face-to-face. She never imagined the opportunity would come so soon.

Several days later, in the Embroidery Workshop, Momo Zhang summoned Wei Yingluo and Jinxiu to her side and said to both of them:

“You two, come with me.”

Wei Yingluo and Jinxiu immediately set down their work and followed behind her.

The palace grounds were vast and deep, with winding corridors that twisted and turned. The three of them walked—one in front, two behind. As they went, Momo Zhang asked:

“Have you memorized the route?”

“Yes, Momo, I’ve memorized it,” Jinxiu answered quickly. She was always trying every way possible to leave a good impression on those above her.

But Momo Zhang smiled and asked, “Will you be able to find your own way back later?”

Jinxiu immediately fell silent. It was one thing to say it; doing it was another matter entirely. The paths ahead and behind looked exactly the same—this was an excellent defense against assassins, forcing them to waste huge amounts of time just trying to navigate. But it also defeated newcomers like her. One moment of inattention and she would be hopelessly lost.

If Momo Zhang really made her return alone, she would probably have to ask for directions the entire way back.

“The rules of the palace forbid wandering around freely. That’s why palace maids generally do not leave the palace where they serve unless ordered by their master to deliver something elsewhere.” Seeing her embarrassment, Momo Zhang did not scold her, only spoke calmly. “But you are from the Embroidery Workshop. You will frequently need to take measurements and make clothes for the various mistresses of the palaces. You must become familiar with the paths. Otherwise, after seven or eight turns, you won’t be able to find your way back—and you’ll risk delaying important tasks.”

“Yes!” Jinxiu hurriedly replied.

Yet from the exchange between the two of them, Wei Yingluo picked up something else. She asked:

“Momo, whose clothes are we going to make right now?”

Momo Zhang gave her a meaningful glance, then looked far ahead toward the red walls and green tiles in the distance. Calmly, she answered:

“Noble Consort Hui.”

Along the way afterward, Jinxiu appeared both nervous and excited.

Wei Yingluo knew she was once again eager to show off in front of the Noble Lady—but was Noble Consort Hui really someone so easy to please?

Although they hadn’t been in the palace long, they had already heard plenty about the various young mistresses of the different palaces. According to the older palace maids, the Empress spent her days chanting sutras and rarely involved herself in affairs, leaving the inner palace almost entirely under the control of Noble Consort Hui. This Noble Consort Hui was as beautiful as a peony, adored extravagance, and was utterly unpredictable in mood. When pleased, she would scoop up a handful of pearls and scatter them to the servants below. When displeased, she would scoop up another handful of pearls—not to scatter, but to order the servants to eat them one by one in front of her…

Beautiful and cruel—a peony steeped in poison.

“Noble Consort Your Highness, have mercy!!”

Before the three of them had even crossed the threshold into Noble Consort Hui’s sleeping chambers, a piercing scream rang in their ears.

“Kneel quickly!” Momo Zhang hurriedly called out, then dropped to her knees first.

Though they had no idea what was happening, it was best at times like this to imitate the seasoned palace veterans. Wei Yingluo promptly knelt as well, then stealthily glanced forward using the corner of her eye.

A woman dressed as a mistress seemed to have just fled from the direction of the main hall. In her haste, she had lost one shoe; with one foot shod and one bare and muddy, she ran toward them—only to be quickly seized by two sturdy palace maids behind her. She burst into desperate sobs: “Noble Consort Your Highness, please spare this concubine!”

Then, parting the flowers and willows like a curtain, a dazzling beauty adorned from head to toe in jewels and treasures emerged from behind the blossoms. Her right hand twined around a string of emerald prayer beads; long, jeweled false nails rested lightly on the arm of the maid beside her. With every step she took, the prayer beads, moon-shaped earrings, and golden step-shakers swayed, refracting a brilliant shimmer of gold and jade.

From a distance, she looked like a radiant figure seated upon the clouds.

Only when she drew closer did one realize that her own beauty rivaled the splendor of the jewels she wore.

“So this is Noble Consort Hui?” Wei Yingluo thought to herself.

She had heard so many rumors, every single one praising her beauty. Yet all those mouths, all those words of admiration, could not compare to even half of the reality standing before her.

When the peony bloomed, it outshone every other flower.

“What mercy or no mercy? If others hear you say such things, they’ll think this palace intends to harm you.” Noble Consort Hui slowly approached the woman dressed as a mistress, looking down at her from above. The corner of her lip curved upward. “Noble Lady Yu, if you are ill, you must take your medicine.”

“No—no!” The woman addressed as Noble Lady Yu shook her head frantically. “This concubine is not ill, this concubine…”

“Physician Liu!” Noble Consort Hui suddenly called out. “Why aren’t you hurrying to feed Noble Lady Yu her medicine?”

A medical officer carrying a bowl of medicine promptly stepped forward from behind her.

As the steaming bowl drew nearer and nearer, sweat beaded at Noble Lady Yu’s temples. Struggling desperately, she screamed with all her heart: “I am not ill! I am with child—carrying the dragon seed!”

A deathly silence fell. Every one of the dozen or so people present wished they could instantly go blind and deaf, lest they be silenced forever later.

Yet Noble Consort Hui’s expression remained perfectly calm—as if she had not heard at all. She simply repeated her earlier words: “Physician Liu, why aren’t you feeding her the medicine?”

“Yes—yes…” Physician Liu hurriedly replied.

Wei Yingluo stole a glance at him and noticed that the hand holding the medicine bowl was trembling. As he walked, drops of the dark brown liquid spilled along the path.

Her heart sank.

She had only ever heard tales of such things in operas—back-palace struggles for favor, forcing others to abort. Never had she imagined that one day she would witness such a scene unfold right before her eyes.

In the theater, the audience could curse and shout; the wealthier patrons could even toss silver to right the wrongs done to the characters onstage. If the storytellers received enough tips, they would twist their tongues and ensure the good were rewarded and the wicked punished.

But in reality, it was often the wicked who prospered.

Just like the Noble Consort Hui standing before them now.

So many mouths, so much slander and defamation, yet none of it could compare to even half of her true appearance in person.

Even if she was a peony, she was a peony steeped in poison.

“You’re not a child anymore—why are you making such a fuss just over taking medicine?” Noble Consort Hui still wore that lofty, arrogant demeanor. From such a vantage point, people looked no different from ants. “Someone, come help her.”

Noble Lady Yu kept refusing the medicine. To avoid the medicine bowl in front of her, she shook her head like a rattle-drum, causing the hairpins and ornaments on her head to fall off one after another. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulders, giving her the appearance of madness.

“Yes, Your Ladyship.” At her command, several palace maids stepped forward. Two of them pressed down on Noble Lady Yu’s shoulders, while another pinched her chin, forcing her mouth open. They then signaled the imperial physician with their eyes to administer the medicine.

Watching this scene unfold, Wei Yingluo, who was kneeling on the ground, clenched her fists tightly.

She looked left and right. Apart from Noble Consort Hui and her followers, the only other people present were a little palace maid who happened to be trimming flower branches nearby, and the three of them. Who would speak up and plead for Noble Consort Yu? Who dared to plead for Noble Consort Yu?

Wei Yingluo took a deep breath…

“Stop it!”

Chapter 15: the Slap

The voice that rang out did not belong to her, but to the woman who had hurried over.

Unlike Noble Consort Hui’s dazzling display of jewels and splendor, this woman was dressed entirely in plain, unadorned clothing. The only decoration was a small white magnolia flower tucked at her temple. At first glance, one might mistake her for a low-ranking candidate consort, but the retinue that followed her immediately revealed her true identity—she was the sole mistress of the rear palace, the Empress.

Empress Fucha had arrived in haste, not even having time to change into formal attire. She was still wearing the simple clothes she used when tending to flowers and plants; the hem of her skirt was stained with fallen petals and soil. She strode quickly to Noble Lady Yu, raised her hand to dismiss the palace maids, then personally helped Noble Lady Yu to her feet. Her cold gaze turned toward Noble Consort Hui.

“Noble Consort Hui, what exactly are you trying to do to Noble Lady Yu?”

Noble Consort Hui smiled coyishly.

“Noble Lady Yu is unwell. This consort specially invited an imperial physician to diagnose and treat her.”

“Oh?” Empress Fucha lowered her gaze to the medicine bowl in the imperial physician’s hands and asked sharply, “Is this really medicine for treating illness?”

“What else could it be?” Noble Consort Hui turned her eyes toward the physician. “Imperial Physician Liu, tell Her Majesty what kind of medicine this is.”

“Reporting to Your Majesty,” Imperial Physician Liu replied respectfully, “Noble Lady Yu’s pulse is thin and sunken in the left guan, slippery and forceful in the right guan. Combined with exuberant liver yang and accumulated phlegm-dampness in the lungs, she is suffering from a cough condition. To clear the lung heat for her, this minister specially prescribed a formula to clear heat and benefit the lungs… loquat paste.”

“Nonsense!” Noble Lady Yu cried out loudly. “I am clearly with child—how could it be a mere cough! This is obviously a bowl of poison! Empress, Empress, I beg you to save this concubine, wuwu…”

Empress Fucha’s expression darkened. Suspicious eyes turned toward Noble Consort Hui. “Is this truly loquat paste?”

“Zhilan,” Noble Consort Hui said with a faint smile.

“This servant is here.” The palace maid supporting her bowed her head in response.

Noble Consort Hui took the medicine bowl from Imperial Physician Liu and handed it directly to Zhilan, ordering, “Drink it.”

“Yes!” Zhilan accepted the bowl and drained it in one gulp.

Time passed second by second. Noble Lady Yu’s face grew paler and paler, Empress Fucha’s brows furrowed tighter and tighter, while across from them, Zhilan remained perfectly fine, standing there without the slightest change.

“Noble Lady Yu.” Noble Consort Hui looked at her, her smile growing even more radiant—like a peony that fed on malice. “Now let this consort ask you once more: is this poison?”

“This… this…” Noble Lady Yu gritted her teeth. “Abortion drugs only work on pregnant women. When taken by an ordinary person, naturally they have no effect.”

“Then let the people from the Imperial Medical Bureau come and examine it.” Noble Consort Hui said calmly and unhurriedly. “Zhilan, hand the medicine bowl to them. Let them take it to the Imperial Medical Bureau for a thorough investigation and see exactly what is in this bowl.”

Her fearless attitude actually made Empress Fucha hesitate for a moment. Could it really be loquat paste in that bowl? However, things had already reached this point—with so many eyes watching and so many ears listening, it could no longer be quietly brushed aside. Empress Fucha could only say:

“Someone, summon Court Physician Zhang from the Imperial Medical Bureau.”

Court Physician Zhang soon arrived. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, he carefully examined the remaining medicinal liquid in the bowl two or three times before finally concluding:

“Reporting to Your Ladyship, this medicine… is indeed loquat paste.”

Both Empress Fucha and Noble Lady Yu were stunned upon hearing this.

“Noble Lady Yu, for the sake of the dragon child you carry, this palace will temporarily not hold you accountable,” Noble Consort Hui said with a half-smile. “However, there is one person you must hand over to this palace… Empress, who was the one who secretly informed you that this palace was attempting to poison Noble Lady Yu?”

Empress Fucha’s expression darkened. From the corner of her eye, she glanced behind her—Concubine Yi.

“Concubine Yi is in for serious trouble now.”

After returning from Chuxiu Palace, Jinxiu told everyone she met about what had happened to her that day. The little palace maids, bored with their daily routine, now had fresh gossip to listen to and gathered eagerly around her, hanging on every word.

“Noble Lady Yu being pregnant with a dragon child should have been a joyous event, but she became paranoid, hid it, and didn’t report it. Noble Consort Hui kindly arranged for an imperial physician to examine her, yet she turned around and bit the hand that fed her!” After finishing the story, she shook her head and offered her own commentary: “And that Concubine Yi—she’s even more outrageous. She kept insisting that Noble Consort Hui was trying to poison the imperial heir! A mere low-ranking consort daring to slander a high-ranking consort—this is utter disrespect! Now she’s been taken away by Noble Consort Hui. I doubt she’ll die, but she’ll definitely lose a layer of skin!”

Was the situation really as Jinxiu described?

Probably not that simple.

Right now everyone was saying Noble Consort Hui had been wronged—but had she truly been wronged? Perhaps not. Noble Lady Yu carrying the dragon child should have been a blessing, yet now it had become a stain. Everyone suspected she was using the child in her belly to falsely accuse Noble Consort Hui. What’s more, Concubine Yi had been taken away as the informer. This invisibly undermined the Empress’s authority. In the future, who would dare report anything to the Empress? Who would still seek justice from her?

“As for Noble Lady Yu…” Wei Yingluo thought to herself, “it’s not that she won’t be dealt with—it’s just that it will happen a little later. After all, there are more ways to cause a miscarriage than just using medicine…”

Several days later, in the embroidery workshop, Momo Zhang once again sought out Wei Yingluo and Jinxiu.

“Chief Steward Wu has just given instructions,” Momo Zhang told the two of them. “Noble Lady Yu is with child, and the embroidery workshop must prepare new garments for her. You two are to come with me to Yonghe Palace.”

The sky was overcast that day, with thick dark clouds stretching endlessly, letting not a shred of light through. Yonghe Palace felt like an enormous coffin; its grand gate resembled an open coffin lid, waiting for a fresh corpse to enter.

Pa!

Before Wei Yingluo had even stepped through the door, a faint sound came from inside.

Pa!

Once she entered the courtyard, the sound grew closer and louder—pa, pa, pa.

Pa!

In the busy courtyard filled with people coming and going, Concubine Yi knelt on the ground. Both cheeks were swollen high, a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and her appearance was utterly miserable. The next moment, a wooden slat struck her face hard once again.

“Concubine Yi!” The slat was held in Zhilan’s hand. She sneered coldly: “This servant has been ordered by Her Highness Noble Consort to ask—why are we slapping your face?”

Concubine Yi gritted her teeth and answered: “This concubine falsely accused Noble Consort and committed insubordination.”

Pa!

The wooden slat struck Concubine Yi’s face once more. Zhilan said coldly:

“Her Highness Noble Consort asks you—do you harbor any resentment in your heart?”

“No resentment.” Concubine Yi swallowed the blood in her mouth. “This concubine brought this upon herself. No one else is to blame.”

The slat paused for a rare moment. Holding it, Zhilan smiled and asked her:

“Her Highness Noble Consort asks you once more—will you remember to watch your words from now on?”

Concubine Yi seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I remember…”

Slap!

A tooth flew from Concubine Yi’s direction, bouncing and rolling to a stop at Wei Yingluo’s feet—a snow-white tooth still stained with fresh blood.

“Louder!” Zhilan raised the wooden slat again.

Concubine Yi’s trembling hand covered her mouth; blood seeped out between her fingers. After shaking for a long moment, she finally lowered her hand and, with blood flowing from her mouth, stammered, “This concubine will firmly remember!”

“No!” Concubine Yi could still endure, but someone else could not. Noble Lady Yu suddenly rushed out from inside the room, threw herself over Concubine Yi, and cried toward Zhilan, “Don’t hit her anymore, please don’t hit her! Concubine Yi only made this mistake because of me. If Her Highness Noble Consort wants to punish someone, punish me instead! Hit me! Hit me!”

“Look at what you’re saying.” Zhilan sneered coldly. “Noble Lady Yu, you are carrying the dragon child; your status is honorable. For the sake of the child in your belly, Her Highness Noble Consort has already forgiven your earlier slanderous behavior. But Concubine Yi is different…”

She slowly shifted her gaze onto Concubine Yi’s face. Was it true that like attracts like? As the personal palace maid of Her Highness Noble Consort, Zhilan’s eyes carried the same cold, vicious malice—like a green snake flicking its tongue.

“There are still fifteen more strikes,” Zhilan said with a smile.

“No!” Noble Lady Yu clung desperately to Concubine Yi, as if she wanted to instantly turn into a chest, lock her inside, and lock everyone who intended to harm her outside.

“Noble Lady Yu, if you keep making such a fuss and end up harming the dragon child, we servants will not be able to bear the blame!” Zhilan turned to the surrounding palace maids. “Are you all made of wood? Hurry up and help Noble Lady back inside!”

The palace servants, intimidated by her authority, hurriedly stepped forward and, with many hands, pulled Noble Lady Yu away.

“No—let go of me! Let go! Concubine Yi!”

Slap!

Wei Yingluo and the other two also took the opportunity to leave together with the palace servants.

While waiting to be received by Noble Lady Yu, Jinxiu clutched her chest, terrified, and asked, “Momo, what just happened… that was…”

Momo Zhang replied, “Concubine Yi committed an offense against her superior and slandered Noble Consort. Her Highness Noble Consort ordered her to be publicly slapped.”

“But Concubine Yi is a proper palace master-rank consort!” Jinxiu stared at Momo Zhang in disbelief. “How could a mere palace maid…”

“Silence! What do you mean ‘a mere palace maid’?” Momo Zhang gave her a cold glance. “You are the one who is ‘a mere palace maid’! Who is she? She is Zhilan, the personal palace maid of Noble Consort Hui! Even the gatekeeper of a prime minister holds seventh-rank status—her position is higher than that of ordinary consorts!”

Jinxiu realized she had spoken wrongly again. Thinking quickly, she turned her gaze to Wei Yingluo and asked, “Yingluo, what are you looking at?”

All along the way Wei Yingluo had said nothing; she only kept turning her head back toward Concubine Yi, who was still kneeling in the distance.

“One should beat a person but not the face—even outside the palace it’s like that, let alone inside.” She murmured, “The way Her Highness Noble Consort is doing this is clearly meant to humiliate Concubine Yi, to make her lose all dignity. A woman who holds the rank of consort, yet ends up lower than the lowest palace maid… can she… can she really hold on?”

The figure reflected in her pupils suddenly swayed, then tilted to the right and collapsed weakly onto the ground.

“Pour water on her and wake her up!” Zhilan’s voice came drifting from far away—cold and utterly merciless. “There are still thirteen more strikes.”

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 13: Embroidery Work

Smack!

“Ow!” A young palace maid rolled off the kang in pain.

Two senior palace maids held candlesticks; the flickering candlelight cast Aunt Fang’s face in shifting patches of light and shadow, making her look half demon, half ghost. She kept swinging the disciplinary ruler in her hand, striking the maid on the floor, all the while cursing furiously: “I told you to keep quiet! I told you to keep quiet!”

“Stop hitting me, Auntie, stop! It hurts! Please stop!” The maid curled up, hands protecting her head, sobbing and pleading. “I don’t want to either, but I can’t control snoring! Ow, ow!”

While she was being beaten, the other palace maids all lay on their sides on the kang, not daring to move a muscle. The two senior maids holding rulers paced in front of the kang, their eyes scanning like butchers selecting lambs for slaughter.

“Palace rules: no noise while sleeping. If one day you’re attending the master at night and make a sound, not only will you be beaten to death—I’ll be punished along with you!” Aunt Fang’s ruler fell mercilessly again and again on the young maid. “If you can’t fix it, I’ll beat you until you can!”

Aunt Fang struck her for a long while until—at last—perhaps tired out, she stopped. After catching her breath, she planted one hand on her hip and said coldly to all the maids:

“Get up. Time to work!”

Everyone looked incredulously toward the window. Outside, the sky was pitch black, like a pool of ink. If you stretched out your hand, it would surely disappear into the darkness; you wouldn’t even be able to see how many fingers you were holding up.

“Aunt—Auntie, it’s only the third watch,” one young maid couldn’t help saying. “The embroidery workshop doors aren’t even open yet…”

But one glare from Aunt Fang silenced her instantly. She scrambled off the kang in a hurry; in her haste, she stumbled and nearly fell.

In an instant the dormitory filled with the rustling sounds of everyone hurriedly dressing. Fearing that the slightest delay would earn them a thrashing, they all rose at top speed.

“Auntie, I’m ready.” Jinxiu always loved to come first in everything, and this time was no exception. She was the first to finish dressing, then trotted over to Aunt Fang and said obediently, “Are we heading to the embroidery workshop now?”

“The embroidery workshop doors aren’t open yet—what would you do there?” Aunt Fang replied coldly.

Jinxiu was stunned. “Then we…”

“The work in the embroidery workshop is work. Doing work for me is also work.” Aunt Fang swept her gaze around the room. “Who is Wei Yingluo?”

Everyone turned to look at Wei Yingluo in unison.

“That would be me.” Wei Yingluo stepped forward calmly, expression unchanged.

Aunt Fang gave a signal with her eyes to the two senior maids she had brought. One of them immediately stepped forward and shoved a thick stack of clothing into her arms.

“Momo Zhang says your embroidery is the best. Embroider appropriate seasonal patterns on all the collars, cuffs, and hems. I want them by dawn!” After giving the order, Aunt Fang raised her hand and pointed at the remaining young maids one by one:

“You seven—split into two groups. You, you, you—you three go heat water, prepare soap and towels. I want to bathe at dawn. The rest of you, clean the courtyard. Every single floor tile had better be shining. Move!”

Everyone hurried to their tasks.

Jixiang had been assigned to attend Aunt Fang—a duty that, on the surface, was a good one: lighter than sweeping the courtyard, and it gave her a chance to speak directly with the aunt in charge of them. Jinxiu, who had also been assigned to the same group, was already grinning from ear to ear.

But Jixiang couldn’t smile at all. In her eyes, Aunt Fang was no different from a fierce tiger or wild beast. Attending her bath felt about as safe as pulling teeth from a tiger.

“Don’t pull such a long face.” Wei Yingluo’s gentle voice suddenly sounded softly beside her ear. “Learn from Jinxiu—smile more. You look very cute when you smile.”

“I could never learn from her,” Jixiang muttered, pouting. Then she looked up at Wei Yingluo with open admiration. “Sister Yingluo, you’re amazing. How did you know Auntie would come back?”

If not for Wei Yingluo’s earlier reminder, the one who would have just received the beating would almost certainly have been her.

Jixiang also had the habit of snoring. The reason she wasn’t caught by Aunt Fang was that, after listening to Wei Yingluo’s words, she was so frightened she couldn’t fall asleep. She remained awake until Aunt Fang returned once more.

Wei Yingluo laughed. “A new official lights three fires upon taking office. Even if no one were snoring, she’d find some other pretext to beat someone—just to make us fear her, so that from now on we wouldn’t dare disobey her… All right, go quickly. Don’t keep Auntie waiting too long.”

She watched with a smile as Jixiang hurried away, then shook her head with a chuckle and lowered her gaze to the clothes in her hands.

Someone skilled in embroidery could take a person’s measurements with just a glance. Upon close inspection, these garments were exactly the right length for Aunt Fang to wear—it was obvious she was abusing her position, making the little palace maids under her alter her personal clothes for her own benefit.

Perhaps so as not to steal the spotlight from their mistresses, the palace maids’ clothing was all kept plain and simple. In this regard, there wasn’t much difference between senior and junior maids. The several sets of clothes in her hands were the same: pale, subdued colors with hardly any patterns to be found no matter how much she turned them over.

“Women love to dress up prettily—even the women who enter the palace are no different,” Wei Yingluo thought to herself. “No—in a place filled entirely with women, the competition between women becomes even fiercer.”

Picking up needle and thread, Wei Yingluo embroidered a string of wisteria flowers along the collar and cuffs of the garment. The wisteria vines twined gracefully together, exuding the calm elegance of a mature woman. In an instant, this ordinary palace maid’s robe was elevated to a higher level. The design suited Aunt Fang’s status perfectly—neither as flamboyantly luxurious as peonies nor as ostentatiously grand as herbaceous peonies, so it wouldn’t risk overshadowing the mistresses.

She embroidered so thoughtfully that even someone as nitpicky as Aunt Fang couldn’t find a single fault.

Aunt Fang turned the garment over and over in her hands for a long while. Finally her gaze settled on the wisteria flowers at the cuff. Her delight was plain to see; she stroked them fondly for quite some time, yet her voice remained cool and detached:

“Not bad embroidery. Do the same for the rest of them—different patterns for each.”

“Yes, Auntie,” Wei Yingluo replied obediently. “Shall I do it now?”

Aunt Fang glanced at the sky. She would have liked Wei Yingluo to start embroidering right away, but even abusing her authority had its limits. Regretfully, she shook her head. “Go have your meal first. After eating, head to the embroidery workshop to work.”

Wei Yingluo pursed her lips into a small smile. “Yes.”

Aunt Fang left carrying the robe embroidered with wisteria. Judging from her eager expression, she was clearly impatient to change into it at once and go show it off to her sisters.

“Look at that—someone’s latched onto a real golden thigh again,” Jinxiu muttered darkly to the other little palace maids behind her back. “What a born good slave. If we want to live comfortably, we all have to learn from her.”

Jixiang couldn’t stand to hear such talk and was about to confront her when Wei Yingluo held her back.

“Yingluo-jie, she’s talking about you like that—aren’t you angry?” Jixiang fumed.

Wei Yingluo smiled. Her time was far too precious to waste on someone as insignificant as Jinxiu.

“Jixiang, can you do me a favor?” Wei Yingluo asked.

“Just say it,” Jixiang replied without even asking what the favor was.

“I won’t be going to breakfast. Could you bring me a steamed bun?” Wei Yingluo said. “I have something to take care of—I’ll head to the embroidery workshop first.”

At this hour, the embroidery workshop was like a person in deep sleep—perfectly still and utterly silent.

Wei Yingluo didn’t idle either. She gently swept the fallen flowers in front of the door into a neat pile with her broom. Wisteria bloomed at the entrance of the embroidery workshop; the ground was covered in petals of every shade of purple, deep and pale, and even the broom picked up a faint floral fragrance.

“Why are you here so early?” a voice asked from behind her.

Wei Yingluo paused her sweeping, turned, and smiled. “Good morning, Momo Zhang.”

This meeting had been carefully planned in advance.

Momo Zhang worked in the embroidery workshop. She was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. By skipping breakfast and waiting at the door, Wei Yingluo was certain to catch her.

Of course, she would never say that out loud. Instead, Wei Yingluo smiled and explained:

“Today is my first day working in the embroidery workshop. I was afraid of being late, so I came early.”

Old people always like children who follow the rules, and Momo Zhang was no exception. On her usually stern, almost unapproachable face, a rare trace of a smile appeared: “You’re a child who understands propriety.”

Wei Yingluo certainly did understand propriety.

For the next half month, she rose early every day to embroider clothes for Aunt Fang—wisteria and autumn orchids, carp and bluebirds; the patterns never repeated. As soon as the sun began to rise, without even eating breakfast, she would pick up her cleaning tools and hurry to the embroidery workshop.

Some people tried to imitate her, but after four or five days they gave up.

“She’s truly born to be a servant,” Jinxiu said to others. “I could never learn to be like her.”

She couldn’t learn—and didn’t want to—because there were no visible benefits.

Although Wei Yingluo worked privately for Aunt Fang every day, she still received beatings from Aunt Fang’s board. Though she swept and cleaned in front of the embroidery workshop before dawn each day, Momo Zhang showed her no favoritism. The workload assigned to her was the same as everyone else’s—sometimes even a little more.

Many people secretly laughed at Wei Yingluo behind her back: working so hard yet gaining nothing—what was the point?

Yet Wei Yingluo continued on her own path, indifferent to the gossip. She persisted in this routine day after day. Though she received no tangible rewards, the way Aunt Fang and Momo Zhang looked at her grew softer and softer—especially Momo Zhang, who in her spare moments would even chat with her about everyday things.

Wei Yingluo always listened quietly, occasionally offering a comment or two, or asking one or two harmless questions. Seeing how well-behaved and sensible she was, Momo Zhang would casually answer her.

“Momo, would red or green be better for this part?”

“Red. Red is more festive.”

“Momo, for the handkerchief for Noble Lady Yu, would embroidered golden carp be better, or orchids?”

“Golden carp. It’s more auspicious.”

“Momo, compared to Wei Yingning’s embroidery, whose is better?”

“Yingning’s is better.” Momo Zhang answered out of habit. Only after the words left her mouth did she pause slightly and stare at the girl in front of her—Wei Yingluo.

Wei Yingluo smiled back at her.

One full month—every meeting, every seemingly casual question and answer—had all been leading to this one moment: to make Momo Zhang answer her next question instinctively, without thinking.

Momo Zhang stared at Wei Yingluo for a long time before slowly saying, “I misheard. I don’t know anyone named Wei Yingning.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 12: The Bedchamber

A young eunuch stepped into Yixi Hall and approached Noble Consort Hui. He leaned close and whispered a single sentence in her ear.

“The Emperor laughed.”

Noble Consort Hui nodded. She nodded slightly to the personal palace maid at her side. The maid immediately led the young eunuch away to receive his reward.

Li Yu was not the only one with ears in place—Noble Consort Hui also had informants close to the Emperor. Whenever someone brought her valuable intelligence, she was never stingy with rewards.

For instance, this time: though the other party had returned with only four words, each word was worth a fortune.

“Since the Emperor smiled, his mood must be quite good tonight,” Noble Consort Hui thought to herself. “Perhaps…”

“Your Highness, is there some happy news?” Concubine Jia asked with a smile.

Noble Consort Hui cast her a sidelong glance without betraying any emotion and replied with a faint smile, “Nothing in particular.”

Inside Yanxi Hall, besides her, sat Consort Xian, Concubine Yi, Noble Lady Wan, and the others. The various concubines were seated according to their rank in their respective chairs—not because they had gathered for casual nighttime conversation, but because they were all waiting for the Emperor’s summons.

Tonight was the same as every night: the green-headed name tablets bearing the names of the consorts were sent to the Yangxin Hall. Every one of them waited with bated breath, hoping the Emperor would pick up her tablet.

“The Emperor hasn’t summoned anyone to serve in his bedchamber for quite some days now,” Concubine Jia remarked, tactfully changing the subject when she saw Noble Consort Hui unwilling to elaborate. She sighed. “Surely he won’t spend the night alone again tonight?”

Her words filled everyone with anxiety—even Noble Consort Hui felt a heaviness settle over her heart.

Though she held high rank and great power in the harem—her word was law, and even the Empress sometimes had to defer to her—there was one secret affliction that tormented her: she had no children.

A beauty fades like a flower with each passing year. One day her looks would wither, and the palace was never short of fresh, blooming young beauties in the prime of youth. When that day came, would the Emperor still pick up her green tablet? No, he would not.

“I really wish I had a child…” Noble Consort Hui couldn’t help thinking.

Raising a son for support in old age—that was true among the common people, and even more so in the palace. When her beauty was gone, what else could she rely on? Naturally, only a son of her own flesh and blood. Even if the child were a bit slow-witted, as long as he became a prince, he would be a solid shield for his aging mother. And if fortune smiled and the child was clever, capable, virtuous, and favored by the Emperor… then in the future… even the position of Empress Dowager could be within reach.

Noble Consort Hui gently stroked her disappointing belly, even less inclined now to share the news she had just received with the others. If it were up to her to decide everything, she would wish nothing more than for Li Yu to place only her green tablet before the Emperor.

The waiting made her restless. Toying idly with the tortoiseshell nail guard on her finger, she asked casually, “By the way, why isn’t Consort Chun here?”

“Your Highness,” Concubine Jia replied, “Consort Chun caught a chill and hasn’t recovered yet. She won’t be coming tonight.” She always seemed to know everything.

Noble Consort Hui gave her an extra glance and drawled lazily, “Out of three hundred and sixty-five days in a year, she spends more than half of them sick. Truly a delicate ‘sickly beauty.’”

“Your Highness is right,” Noble Lady Ying quickly seized the chance to curry favor. “Consort Chun’s constitution really is frail. She falls ill every few days. Just yesterday a few of us were discussing going to visit her.”

“Visit for what?” Noble Consort Hui gave a half-smile that was not quite a smile. “If Consort Chun is ill, the Empress will naturally show concern. Why should you or I bother ourselves?”

Noble Lady Ying choked on her words and for a long moment didn’t know how to respond. Only after some time did she manage a feeble, “Yes, Your Highness.”

Seeing her rebuffed, the other consorts grew even quieter, like cicadas in winter. Everyone wanted a protector; everyone wanted to climb onto Noble Consort Hui’s high branch. But her moods were unpredictable, and ordinary people found it nearly impossible to guess what pleased her. One careless misstep and life in the harem afterward would become unbearable.

Noble Consort Hui played with her nail guard a while longer, then suddenly asked, “What about Noble Lady Yu?”

The room fell deathly silent. No one answered for a long moment.

Noble Consort Hui raised her gaze and fixed it on a beauty dressed in green. “Concubine Yi, I’m asking you. Where is your good sister Noble Lady Yu?”

In the harem, not everyone was at each other’s throats. Occasionally there were pairs like Noble Lady Yu and Concubine Yi—though not blood sisters, they were closer than sisters, always supporting and comforting one another.

Concubine Yi steadied herself, rose, and answered respectfully, “In reply to Noble Consort Your Highness, Noble Lady Yu is unwell and has asked for leave…”

“Oh?” Noble Consort Hui rested her head on one hand. “Another one who is ‘unwell’…”

She had asked offhandedly just to pass the time, but unexpectedly, a trace of nervousness flickered across Concubine Yi’s face.

Before Noble Consort Hui could puzzle out the deeper meaning, Concubine Jia laughed and interjected, “Lately the Forbidden City seems to have caught some strange wind—everyone is falling ill one after another. It looks like we should ask the imperial physicians to prescribe some preventive medicine for all of us.”

“And what about Noble Lady Yu?” Noble Consort Hui kept her eyes fixed on Concubine Yi’s face. “Has an imperial physician seen her yet?”

Perhaps aware that her earlier nervousness had drawn attention, Concubine Yi forced herself to calm down and said, “This concubine originally intended to summon the imperial physician to take a look, but A-Rong has been afraid of taking medicine since she was little. It’s only a slight cough, nothing serious, I’m sure. A few days of rest in bed should see her recover…”

While she spoke, Noble Consort Hui kept her eyes fixed on Concubine Yi’s face. Her gaze was like a saw—cold, sharp, and gleaming, as though in the next moment it would slice open her skull to see what thoughts were hidden inside.

Just then, the door opened, and the chief eunuch, Li Yu, entered from outside.

Noble Consort Hui’s attention was instantly drawn to him. Together with the other consorts present, she turned longing eyes toward Li Yu.

Dressed in plain blue robes, a whisk draped over his elbow, Li Yu saluted the consorts. Then, under their hopeful gazes, he uttered the two words they least wanted to hear:

“All Dismissed!”

Those two words shattered the hope in the consorts’ eyes. As the saying goes, the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment—and no one was more disappointed than Noble Consort Hui. Unable to hold back, she asked,

“Why is His Majesty resting alone again?”

Li Yu smiled apologetically. “Noble Consort Your Highness, memorials have piled up like mountains. His Majesty must review them through the night. He did not wish for the your highnesses to wait in vain today.”

Noble Consort Hui scoffed with icy disdain, immediately rose, and strode toward the door. Such rude behavior was nothing unusual for her. Watching her departing figure, Concubine Yi subconsciously let out a breath of relief. Together with the other consorts, she respectfully called after her,

“This concubine respectfully sees Noble Consort Your Highness off!”

Night had fallen. As the palace women returned to their quarters one by one to sleep, inside the palace maids’ dormitory, a heavy disciplinary ruler suddenly came down with a crack.

“Ah!”

“It hurts so much!”

“Who is it?!”

Cries of pain rose one after another. The young palace maids jolted awake from their dreams, ready to lash out at whoever had disturbed them—only to open their eyes and see Aunt Fang’s face, cold as frost. Instantly, their anger melted away like snow. One by one, they scrambled down from the kang like frightened quails and chorused respectfully,

“Auntie.”

Aunt Fang held the disciplinary ruler in her right hand. It was thick and long, more like a chair leg than anything else. She slowly tapped it against her left palm, her gaze sweeping coldly across each maid’s face until it finally settled on Jixiang.

“How are you sleeping?” she asked icily.

Jixiang was bewildered. She lifted a hand to wipe the drool still at the corner of her mouth and gave an awkward smile. “How else would I sleep? Just lying down, of course.”

“Who permitted you to lie flat on your back?” Aunt Fang snapped. “Sleeping supine like that is cursing Heaven and blaspheming the gods—you’ll invite divine punishment! There are no such undisciplined slaves in this palace! Everyone, get back on the kang and sleep properly—again!”

The maids exchanged glances. Then Aunt Fang’s ruler lashed out at Jixiang: “Hurry up!”

Chaos erupted. The palace maids scrambled frantically back onto the kang. With Aunt Fang’s earlier warning still ringing in their ears, none dared lie flat anymore. Some lay on their sides, others face-down—but they still received a thorough beating from Aunt Fang.

“Your leg—you planning to stretch it all the way to Shenwu Gate?!”

“And you—keep your left hand tucked at your waist!”

“You don’t even know how to sleep properly? You deserve to be beaten!”

The heavy ruler fell like rain—knocking one on the hand, another on the leg. The younger ones had tears welling in their eyes but didn’t dare cry out. They could only bite their lower lips hard and obey her instructions.

Only when every single one of them was lying on their side—looking, at a glance, like identical clay figurines fired from the same mold—did Aunt Fang finally lower the ruler. Coldly, she said,

“Remember this position. Even in your sleep, don’t forget it! Leave!”

With that, Aunt Fang led her two senior palace maids out.

After she was gone, soft, stifled sobs finally rose in the room—muffled, fearful of being heard by Aunt Fang, leaking out as though through clenched fingers.

“Yingluo…” Jixiang rolled up her sleeve, eyes brimming with tears, and said to Wei Yingluo, “Auntie hit me so hard it hurts. Can you look—has the back of my hand turned purple?”

There was no lamp lit in the room. By the thin moonlight filtering through the window, Wei Yingluo couldn’t clearly tell whether the back of her hand was bruised blue or purple. And even if it was—what could be done? The palace hierarchy was strict. It was only natural and right for senior palace maids to beat lowly ones like them. There was nowhere to seek redress.

“Yingluo.” Jixiang quietly scooted her bedding a little closer to Wei Yingluo—like a child who had been beaten outside and was now seeking comfort and warmth from family. “Can you hold me while we sleep?”

Wei Yingluo gently stroked her cheek and gave her a tender smile. “No.”

Seeing that smile, Jixiang had been absolutely certain she would agree. She never expected the complete opposite answer. She froze for a moment, then asked, “Why not?”

Wei Yingluo’s gaze was clear and cool, yet bright. With quiet certainty, she said to Jixiang, “Because Auntie will still come.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 11: The Consorts’ Painting

   Crash!

A wrist adorned with emerald prayer beads swept sharply to the right. A precious white-glazed vase painted with the Eight Immortals was knocked from the table and shattered instantly into worthless fragments on the floor—three years’ worth of a rare tribute piece, destroyed in a heartbeat.

Concubine Jia entered just in time to witness the scene. A few shards even bounced to her feet, startling her into stepping back. With a trace of fear, she asked, “Noble Consort Your Highness, what happened? Why such a terrible temper all of a sudden?”

The interior of Chuxiu Palace was resplendent with gold and splendor. Especially the treasure shelf, laden with all kinds of gold, silver, jade, and rare antiques: the jade pillow once used by Xi Shi, the pipa once held by Wang Zhaojun, the moon earrings once worn by Diaochan, and the colorful plate once used by Yang Guifei to hold lychees. Now, all of them lay scattered and broken on the floor—swept down mercilessly by Noble Consort Hui in a fit of rage.

“None of your business! Get out! Get as far away from this palace as you can!” she shouted furiously.

Concubine Jia had no choice but to retreat. Outside the door, she pulled aside a palace maid and asked in a low voice, “What on earth happened?”

The maid whispered, “You don’t know, my lady? When the Noble Consort first returned, she was perfectly fine. But then His Majesty bestowed upon her a painting called ‘Lady Ban Declines the Imperial Carriage.’ The moment she saw it, she flew into a rage!”

Concubine Jia pondered for a moment, then pushed the door open again and entered with a smile. “Your Highness, I heard His Majesty bestowed upon you a painting of ‘Lady Ban Declines the Imperial Carriage’? Congratulations, congratulations!”

“Congratulations for what?” Noble Consort Hui’s face turned livid with anger. “Emperor Cheng of Han invited Lady Ban to ride in the same carriage with him, but she refused on the grounds that it was improper and against etiquette—thus becoming a model virtuous consort of her generation. He’s warning me—what a truly ‘proper’ consort should be like!”

Concubine Jia: “Your Highness, you’ve misunderstood…”

“It’s all because of her!” Noble Consort Hui smashed another jade plate, then paced back and forth across the room, her face twisted with anxiety and hatred. “The moment she entered the palace, she became the exalted Empress of Great Qing. Her annual stipend is a thousand taels—I get four hundred less. Changchun Palace uses gold vessels; Chuxiu Palace is only fit for silver. She has full ceremonial honor guards; I only get the lesser procession. Even the festival rewards—I receive far less! Fine, I can endure all of that. But His Majesty! Just now I was standing right there—a living, breathing person—and he pretended not to see me. His eyes, his heart, were filled only with her. How can this be endured? Bestowing this wretched painting is his way of saying I’ve overstepped, that I’ve bullied his beloved Empress!”

“Your Highness,” Concubine Jia hurried over, softening her voice to soothe her. “You’ve misunderstood His Majesty.”

“Oh?” Noble Consort Hui raised an eyebrow and glanced sideways at her. “Go on then—tell me, what exactly have I misunderstood about His Majesty?”

“What His Majesty bestowed was not limited to just this one painting, the Lady Ban Declining the Imperial Carriage,” Concubine Jia said. “Over at Zhongcui Palace, it was the Xu Hou Presenting the Memorial painting. At Qixiang Palace, it was the Jiang Hou Removing Her Hairpins. Even the Empress received one—a Tai Si Instructing Her Sons.”

Noble Consort Hui was momentarily stunned. “She received one too? Tai Si Instructing Her Sons—what does that mean?”

“In my humble opinion, this is merely a passing whim of His Majesty’s,” Concubine Jia replied with a smile. “He has gifted portraits of virtuous consorts and empresses from ancient times, hoping that all the ladies of the inner palace will take them as models to emulate. Why should you be angry over such a thing?”

Hearing that even the Empress had received a similar painting, Noble Consort Hui’s anger immediately subsided by more than half. She settled back into her chair. A palace maid hurriedly brought her a cup of tea; she accepted it, took a sip, then curved her beautiful lips into a charming, flirtatious smile directed at Concubine Jia.

“You truly have a clever tongue—everything you say is exactly what this palace likes to hear.”

Concubine Jia lowered her eyes demurely. “This concubine is unworthy, but I am willing to share the burdens of Your Ladyship.”

“Keep talking,” Noble Consort Hui instructed. “I do not believe His Majesty would act without purpose. In your view, what deeper meaning lies behind this gesture of his?”

Living in the palace meant one had to observe more, listen more, and think more. When a superior coughed once, those below had to discern from that single sound whether the master was thirsty or ill—whether to bring tea or fetch medicine. The Emperor might have merely gifted a few paintings, but that was more than enough to keep their recipients pondering until dawn.

Concubine Jia thought for a moment before replying, “His Majesty bestowed a total of twelve paintings. This concubine speculates that, taken together, these twelve paintings represent His Majesty’s ideal image of the perfect consort. For example, the Xu Fei Offering Direct Remonstrance is a wish that consorts emulate Consort Xu Hui of the Tang—boldly speaking the truth and remonstrating directly when Emperor Taizong made a mistake. And the Empress Cao Valuing Agriculture…”

“Empress Cao Valuing Agriculture?” At the sound of that title, Noble Consort Hui burst into loud laughter. The jeweled hairpins on her head swayed and sparkled with the motion. “Who was unlucky enough to receive that rubbish? Is His Majesty telling her to go work the fields?”

“It is a hope that the recipient will emulate Empress Cao of Emperor Renzong of Song—living simply and frugally, and placing importance on agriculture and sericulture,” Concubine Jia explained with a smile. “It’s really not so bad. This concubine has heard that someone even received the Jieyu Facing the Bear.”

“Oh my, my stomach!” Noble Consort Hui clutched her belly, rocking back and forth so hard she nearly fell off her chair from laughing. “And who got that one? Is His Majesty advising her not to be human anymore, but to go up the mountain and become a blind bear?”

“It is presumably a wish that she emulates the former Lady Feng Jieyu of Emperor Yuan of Han—who, when the emperor was in danger, risked her own life to protect him,” Concubine Jia explained.

After going through all twelve paintings one by one, Noble Consort Hui rubbed her aching stomach and said thoughtfully, “So in other words, His Majesty wants us consorts to be both strikingly beautiful and virtuous and filial, frugal in managing the household, and—when necessary—capable of tearing apart fierce tigers with our bare hands and wrestling bears unarmed?”

“Precisely,” Concubine Jia said with a smile. “Your Ladyship is truly clever—you understand at once.”

Noble Consort Hui gave a soft snort of laughter, then leaned back in her chair with an air of faint disinterest. Tilting her head to gaze at the ceiling above, she murmured, “Is this supposed to be a woman… or some kind of divine being?”

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless one.

Some tossed and turned; others were lost in anxious thought. And within the Yangxin Hall, the most exalted person in the realm had likewise not yet retired. He remained beneath the candlelight, still reviewing memorials.

The side of his face illuminated by the candle flame was gilded with a warm golden hue, like a sacred statue in a temple—solemn, majestic, lofty and remote. How many palace hearts willingly offered everything, just hoping for a single downward glance from him.

“Your Majesty.” The chief eunuch who had served him for many years, Li Yu, stepped forward holding a tray. “Her Majesty the Empress has sent a midnight snack. You should rest for a while as well.”

On the tray was a bowl of rock-sugar snow-pear soup. Hongli accepted it and took several sips; the sweet coolness soothed his heart. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes as if resting, and asked lazily, “Has anything interesting happened in the palace lately?”

“What would Your Majesty like to hear?” Li Yu asked with a smile.

“Anything at all,” Hongli replied languidly. “Tell me something amusing from the inner palace lately—something to wake me up a bit.”

Though the inner palace was vast, in truth it was small. There were only a handful of masters; the truly numerous were the palace maids and eunuchs. And as the head of all eunuchs, Li Yu commanded countless eyes and ears. Many secrets were not secrets at all in his presence. To him, the enormous inner palace was like a wall that was constantly permeable to drafts.

This was one of the reasons Hongli valued him so highly—with him in place, Hongli could always know the state of the inner palace at any moment.

“If we speak of the inner palace,” Li Yu said with a smile, “all the young mistresses have recently been troubled by the very same matter.”

“Oh?” Hongli didn’t even open his eyes, his hands clasped across his chest. “What is it?”

“The source of the matter lies in those paintings Your Majesty bestowed…” Li Yu briefly described the situation on Noble Consort Hui’s side. If Noble Consort Hui had been present, she would surely have been terrified to the core—because something that had only just happened in her own palace was being recounted by Li Yu in exhaustive detail less than an hour later, down to the exact expression on her face as she spoke. “…That is the state of affairs in Chuxiu Palace. Noble Consort Hui threw quite a tantrum over that ‘Lady Ban Declines the Imperial Carriage’ painting.”

“When does she ever not throw a tantrum?” Hongli remarked indifferently. “What about the others?”

“On Consort Xian’s side, her mother came to visit and urged her to whisper more ‘pillow talk’ to Your Majesty, so that her father could be promoted to a higher position. But Consort Xian dismissed her with the reason that the inner palace must not interfere in politics.” Li Yu sighed. “Her mother left in a huff; Consort Xian did not stop her. She simply had the painting Your Majesty bestowed placed on an altar, lit incense, prayed, and murmured: First, may my lord live a thousand years; second, may this concubine remain ever healthy; third, may we be like the swallows on the beam, meeting year after year without parting.”

Hongli opened his eyes for a moment, then closed them again. “…And the Empress?”

“The Empress seems to be in rather low spirits,” Li Yu replied. “Though she said nothing aloud, two of her personal palace maids were quietly discussing among themselves that…”

He hesitated, trailing off halfway. Hongli, growing impatient, pressed: “What did they say?”

“They said… that by bestowing this painting, Your Majesty is reminding the Empress not to remain sunk in gloom over what happened three years ago, neglecting everything.” Li Yu cautiously glanced at Hongli’s expression as he spoke.

Three years earlier, the second prince born to the Empress had suddenly passed away.

The bond between mother and son had been deep; ever since, the Empress had been nearly broken. Only this year had she begun to recover somewhat. To outsiders, she and Hongli still appeared deeply affectionate, respectful and harmonious as ever. But Li Yu knew that the incident had nonetheless planted a seed of estrangement between them.

Sure enough, Hongli’s brows furrowed slightly—he clearly did not wish to discuss the matter further.

Li Yu promptly wrapped up that topic and, feigning surprise, ventured: “Your Majesty, this servant dares to ask—when these twelve palace admonition paintings are strung together, do they represent Your Majesty’s hopes for the consorts?”

Hongli gently shook his head. He finished the remaining half-bowl of rock-sugar-and-snow-pear soup in one go, then picked up the memorial again—though now his attention seemed somewhat distracted, lacking the earlier focus.

Seeing that his mind was not on the memorial, Li Yu boldly continued speaking. Smiling ingratiatingly, he said: “Your Majesty, this servant may be only half a man, but I’ve seen plenty of women here in the Forbidden City! A woman can be exquisitely beautiful, with a graceful, enchanting figure, skilled in poetry, music, singing, and playing instruments—that already counts as rare. But to demand that she embody every virtue under heaven… where on earth could one find such a creature?”

“I simply think they have too much idle time,” Hongli said without lifting his head, eyes fixed on the memorial in his hand.

Li Yu was stunned. “Ah?”

“Idleness breeds trouble,” Hongli said with a slight smile. The smile carried a hint of cunning that softened the solemn dignity of his features, making the divine statue in a temple seem to have descended to the mortal world. “By bestowing these palace admonition paintings on the inner palace, I’ve given them something to occupy their minds for quite a while.”

The consorts of the rear palace would probably rack their brains and still never guess that the true reason behind these twelve paintings of ancient virtuous consorts was this. Even Li Yu was momentarily dumbfounded before murmuring: “Occupy their minds for a while… but how much use can that really be?”

Hongli burst into hearty laughter. He rolled up the memorial in his hand and playfully tapped it against Li Yu’s forehead in an intimate gesture: “Because most of them are just as dim-witted as you are—they’ll only think I’m reminding them to be virtuous, gentle, and dutiful. So, in order to live up to my expectations and become the model consort who pleases me, they will naturally have to behave themselves for a few days—and that means I get a few days of peace and quiet!”

“Ah?” Li Yu gaped. “Your Majesty… You’re toying with them!”

Loud laughter echoed through the Yangxin Hall. The two imperial guards standing watch outside the door exchanged bewildered glances, unsure what on earth had made the Emperor laugh so heartily.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 10: Suppression

   “Go on then.” Wei Yingluo raised her hand and pointed at the door. “I’ll wait right here for you. Hurry up and go.”

The door stood wide open; the night wind whistled in from outside. The group of palace maids who had just been shouting about reporting her now had feet glued to the floor as if coated with fish glue—they couldn’t move an inch.

“You really think we don’t dare?” Jinxiu said to the maids on either side of her. “Let’s go!”

But this time, no one echoed her.

Though everyone was jealous of Wei Yingluo, what they felt even more strongly was fear and wariness.

After all, just a few hours earlier, one palace maid had been expelled because of her. Before the sun had even set, the girl had left the palace clutching a blue cloth bundle, sobbing bitterly, never to set foot inside the palace gates again for the rest of her life.

Who would willingly follow in her footsteps?

Wei Yingluo’s gaze slowly swept across each of their faces. In her heart she sneered: Just a bunch of fence-sitters—whichever way the wind blows strongest, that’s the side they lean toward. When Jinxiu seemed powerful, they leaned toward her; now that they thought she was hard to deal with, they leaned toward Wei Yingluo instead.

Her eyes returned to Jinxiu’s face. Calmly she said:

“You think I’m just showing off? I was only helping Jixiang. You could have helped her too—any one of you could have helped her. But none of you chose to do so. In the end, the one who got praised was me. You only remember that Chief Steward Wu praised me—why don’t you reflect on why you yourselves did absolutely nothing?”

“Helping someone cheat and you still think you’re in the right?” Jinxiu retorted sharply. “Lucky for you I was kind-hearted and didn’t expose you on the spot. What you two were embroidering wasn’t any brocade pheasant and peony picture at all—Jixiang had clearly been stitching a goldfish earlier…”

“Enough!” Wei Yingluo cut her off coldly. “I have no interest in discussing this with you any further. Just remember this, I; Wei Yingluo: respect me one foot, and I’ll return ten feet. Whatever you do to me today, I will repay you a hundredfold later! Fine—go on then. All of you, go! Go to Auntie!”

“You!” Jinxiu was already starting to feel afraid inside, but she still refused to back down verbally. Her voice rose, fierce and shrill: “You really think I don’t dare?”

Yet Wei Yingluo suddenly began to laugh. Still laughing, she walked straight toward Jinxiu.

“You—what are you doing?” Jinxiu was so startled she retreated several steps. When Wei Yingluo hooked her arm, she struggled instinctively. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

“To see Auntie, of course.” Wei Yingluo smiled sweetly, radiant as a flower, and began pulling her toward the door. “If we wait any longer, Auntie might already be asleep.”

Jinxiu stared in shock. She had thought Wei Yingluo was only bluffing—never imagined she would actually dare do it. Unable to stop herself, she asked: “You—you’re really not afraid Auntie will punish you?”

“Afraid? Shouldn’t you be the one who’s afraid?” Wei Yingluo said with a cheerful smile. “Do you still remember how that other palace maid was driven out earlier? ‘The master hates nothing more than foolish people who stir up trouble and gossip’—Chief Steward Wu had only just finished saying that, and you’ve already forgotten?”

Jinxiu shuddered at the words. Once again the desolate image appeared in her mind: that palace maid clutching her blue cloth bundle, tears streaming down her face as she walked away under the slanting rays of the setting sun.

“I—I didn’t stir up any trouble tonight. This whole mess was caused by you—everyone saw it…” Jinxiu said hurriedly.

“And then what?” Wei Yingluo looked at her with pity. “Do you think the managing auntie has so much free time that she’ll slowly sort out right from wrong for you? The few of us live in the same room. If even the slightest incident happens, we’ll all be punished together. We might even all get expelled at once—do you believe that?”

“I… I don’t believe it…” Jinxiu’s voice grew even weaker.

“Don’t believe it? Then let’s go try it right now.” Wei Yingluo, however, only smiled more calmly and composedly. She tugged on Jinxiu’s arm and started walking out the door.

Jinxiu was terrified. Instinctively, she grabbed the bedpost with her other hand and refused to let go. The other palace maids exchanged glances for a moment, then one by one rushed over—some clutching her arms, others wrapping their arms around her waist. One of them hurriedly closed the door. They all began speaking at once, trying to persuade her:

“Yingluo, don’t do this. It’s already so late—disturbing Auntie’s rest? Do you really not want to live anymore?”

“Exactly! It’s just a quilt. Why make such a big fuss and drag it up to the higher-ups?”

“Hey, come to think of it, this whole thing started because of Jinxiu. Jinxiu, just apologize to Yingluo and this will all be over, right?”

Like weeds bending with the wind, they were terrified that if things really escalated as Wei Yingluo had threatened, everyone would suffer together. One after another, the palace maids turned their criticism toward Jinxiu. Under the weight of so many accusing fingers and voices, Jinxiu’s face flushed red and then turned pale. Finally, swallowing her resentment, she bowed her head to Wei Yingluo and apologized:

“I know I was wrong, Yingluo. Let go—I won’t mention this matter again.”

“Just an apology and it’s as if nothing happened?” Wei Yingluo smiled. “Do you really think I’m that easy to dismiss?”

Jinxiu felt utterly wronged. Tears welled up uncontrollably in her eyes as she shrieked:

“Then what else do you want? You want to slap me a few times? Fine—go ahead…!”

Bang bang bang!

Several heavy knocks on the door interrupted her.

“What’s all this noise in the middle of the night?” Aunt Fang’s voice came through the door. “Open up!”

The palace maids immediately froze in terror. Their eyes all turned toward Wei Yingluo, unconsciously treating her as their leader, hoping she would tell them what to do.

“Coming right away!” Wei Yingluo called out. Then she lowered her voice and said to the others, “What are you waiting for? Hide the water bucket and clean up the water on the floor. I’ll handle the rest.”

At her command, everyone sprang into action. The maids hurriedly shoved the bucket under the bed. Unable to find a mop or cloth in time, two of them simply knelt on the ground and used their handkerchiefs to wipe up the water stains. Once they finished, Wei Yingluo loosened her hair bun a little, adopting the sleepy, disheveled look of someone who had just crawled out of bed. She opened the door and said:

“Auntie, it’s so late—why are you here?”

“With all this racket, I could hear it from ten miles away. How am I supposed to sleep?” Aunt Fang stepped inside and swept her gaze across the faces of the palace maids. “Come on, what’s going on? Why aren’t any of you sleeping at this hour? What were you arguing about?”

“Nothing,” Wei Yingluo said calmly. “I accidentally knocked over the teapot just now and soaked the bedding. Everyone was just helping me figure out what to do.”

“How can you be so careless?” Aunt Fang’s face grimed as she scolded her. “Tomorrow, take it out and dry it in the sun yourself. For tonight, just flip the bedding over and cover yourself with the dry side. And remember—no more noise, or everyone will be punished together. Understood?”

All the palace maids hurriedly replied: “Yes!”

With a loud slam, the door closed again.

Inside the room, the palace maids collectively let out a long sigh of relief. Once the tension drained away, exhaustion set in. Many of them simply climbed straight into their beds.

Jinxiu did the same. Her attempt to make trouble for Wei Yingluo had backfired spectacularly—she had nearly gotten her own face slapped. Instead of reflecting on her own actions, she now harbored a deep grudge against Wei Yingluo because of tonight’s events…

“Someday I’ll make you pay,” she thought bitterly.

Just then, a hand reached over from the side and dragged her quilt off the bed. Startled, she turned and stared at the other person.

“Wei Yingluo, what are you doing with my quilt?”

Wei Yingluo casually tossed the soaking-wet bedding onto her.

Then she repeated exactly what Aunt Fang had said earlier: “Tomorrow, take it out and dry it in the sun yourself. For tonight, just flip the bedding over and cover yourself with the dry side.”

“You wish!” Jinxiu reached out to snatch her quilt back. “Give me my quilt! Wait… where are you going?”

Wei Yingluo didn’t resist at all. The moment Jinxiu grabbed for it, she let go and handed the quilt back. Then she headed straight for the door.

“I’m going to find Auntie.”

The other palace maids immediately objected. They turned furious glares on Jinxiu:

“Have you had enough yet?”

“Do you want to drag us all down with you?”

“Give her the fucking blanket! Give it to her fuck now!”

Jinxiu had no choice. She bit her lip so hard it nearly drew blood, and with extreme reluctance, she handed over the bedding in her hands. “Here, take it!”

“Put it on the bed and spread it out properly,” Wei Yingluo said, standing with her hands behind her back, speaking in a lazy drawl.

You think I’m your servant? Jinxiu was so furious she felt dizzy, her chest heaving for a long moment before she grudgingly climbed down from the kang, tossed the bedding onto Wei Yingluo’s bed, then hurried back to her own spot. She pulled the damp quilt over her head and curled up. The quilt trembled slightly—whether she was secretly crying underneath, no one could tell.

Wei Yingluo slowly returned to the kang as well. A quick sweep of her peripheral vision showed several people hastily averting their eyes.

With Jinxiu as such a vivid example, these people would likely behave themselves for a while. They wouldn’t dare cause her trouble again anytime soon.

“Yingluo,” came a soft whisper after the candles were extinguished. Jixiang pressed close to her side, murmuring into her ear. “You’re so amazing.”

“When you’re too kind, people bully you. When a horse is too gentle, people ride it. Sometimes, if you don’t want to be bullied, you have to be a little ruthless,” Wei Yingluo replied lazily.

Jixiang nodded half-understandingly, unclear whether she had truly taken the words to heart.

Not long after, gentle snores reached her ears. Wei Yingluo glanced over and saw the young girl already fast asleep. With a helpless smile, she gently tugged the quilt back up over her shoulders. Such a child—even in sleep she couldn’t stay still; the blanket had slipped down to her waist. She’d catch a cold in the night chill if she wasn’t careful.

“I’m really envious of you,” she murmured, lightly touching the other girl’s slightly chubby, baby-fat cheek—as if touching the carefree version of herself from long ago.

The night was deep, yet she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Eventually, giving up, she simply lay there staring at the pitch-black ceiling, thinking to herself:

I’ve finally entered the Embroidery Workshop… but regarding my sister’s matter, where should I even begin?

   The Embroidery Workshop was too far from the Emperor. She couldn’t see him. Only the embroidered pieces she worked on might possibly reach his eyes—but what use was that? She hadn’t come here to offer up her craftsmanship. She had come to seek justice for her sister.

“Don’t rush. Take it slow,” she told herself. “First, I need to gather information… There are two kinds of people who know the most: those who have been in the palace a long time, and those with high status. I need to find ways to get close to both types…”

The ones who had been here longest: Aunt Fang.

And the ones with high status…

An image floated into Wei Yingluo’s mind—a wrist wrapped in emerald prayer beads.

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