Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 83: Golden Juice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hongli quickly asked: “What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Noble Consort Hui swayed and collapsed softly onto the bed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that really so?

Consort Xian glanced back with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zhilan: “Yes, Niangniang!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zhilan: “Yes, Niangniang!”

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

The eunuch: “Understood!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop!” Fuheng shouted loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He almost fooled me. Pursue them!”

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

“Stop right there!”

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

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

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

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

“Search it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 81: Disaster Relief

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

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

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

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

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

The group immediately burst into delighted murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuan Chunwang was among them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In an instant, the refugees surged toward Consort Xian.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Murder! Murder!”

“Help!”

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

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

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

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

The refugees instantly grew agitated and surged toward Yuan Chunwang.

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

The feet rushing toward him immediately halted.

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

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

And so, they missed their best chance to strike.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Yeah, why should we do the work!”

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

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

“Right, no work! We absolutely refuse!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crowd was stunned, whispers rippling through them.

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

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

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

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

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

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 80: Illness and Power

Just as the sky began to lighten, the Cleansing Division was already bustling. Palace maids yawned as they washed up and prepared to start work.

The door suddenly creaked open. A figure staggered inside and nearly fell.

“Ming Yu?” Wei Yingluo paused in the middle of combing her hair and looked at her in surprise. “Why are you here?”

As the senior palace maid of Changchun Palace, Ming Yu had always been extremely meticulous about her appearance. Yet now her hair was disheveled, her clothes in disarray, and—if one looked closely—one could see a large reddish-brown stain on her skirt that looked very much like dried blood.

“Yingluo, come with me!” Ming Yu grabbed Wei Yingluo and pulled her outside. When they reached a secluded spot with no one around, Ming Yu turned back, licked her parched lips, and said to Wei Yingluo:

“Last night the Empress Dowager held a Chongyang banquet at Yujing Pavilion. For some reason a huge swarm of bats appeared. The crowd fell into chaos, and… the Empress unfortunately fell down the steps…”

“What did you say?” Wei Yingluo’s face changed dramatically. She seized Ming Yu’s arm with force. “The Empress fell from the plank road? She—how is she now?”

“The entire Imperial Medical Bureau is treating her at Changchun Palace, but Her Ladyship is still unconscious…” As Ming Yu spoke, she suddenly burst into tears with a wail. “It wasn’t on purpose! There were too many people at the time—someone pushed me from behind, and I let go of Her Ladyship’s hand!”

Wei Yingluo lowered her gaze. An extremely dark light flowed in her eyes.

“…Who was it?” She slowly raised her head and asked, enunciating each word clearly. “Who was the first person to discover that the Empress had fallen from the plank road?”

Ming Yu was still crying in a daze, completely lost.

“Think quickly!” Wei Yingluo shouted.

She had practically yelled the words right into Ming Yu’s ear. Only then did Ming Yu snap back to her senses. Reflexively, she answered, “It was Noble Consort Hui. She was the first to cry out and say that the Empress had fallen from the plank road.”

Wei Yingluo’s expression grew even darker. “…I knew it was her.”

“You suspect Noble Consort Hui?” Ming Yu shook her head. “No, that’s impossible. At the time, Noble Consort was holding onto the Empress—her own arm was dislocated! Everyone saw it! If she had intended to harm Her Ladyship, why would she try to save her?”

“Did she succeed in saving her?” Wei Yingluo cut in.

Ming Yu was stunned.

“Since she didn’t succeed, everything she did was most likely just for show—to cover her tracks,” Wei Yingluo said. Then she lowered her eyes again, lost in some unknown thoughts.

“Never mind all that for now. Come with me to Changchun Palace—hurry!” Ming Yu suddenly grabbed Wei Yingluo’s hand. With both guilt and helplessness in her voice, she said, “The Empress… needs you!”

They had only taken a few steps when a thick, strong arm blocked their path.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Momo Liu stood in front of them, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “She belongs to the Yong Alley, not Changchun Palace. Erqing, if you want to take her away, do you have an official transfer order?”

“This…” Erqing was speechless.

“If there is no transfer order, then please don’t make things difficult for this old woman.” Momo Liu scoffed with icy disdain. “Wei Yingluo, get over here and get to work!”

That day, she assigned the most grueling task to Wei Yingluo.

Torrential rain poured down. Everyone else had gone back inside, but Wei Yingluo remained crouched in the downpour, pulling weeds—from morning till evening, from one end of the garden to the other. By the time dusk approached, the weeds on the ground still weren’t finished. Wei Yingluo, however, was already dizzy and unsteady. Her vision suddenly went black, and she collapsed forward onto the ground.

“Yingluo!”

In her dreams, someone kept calling her name. Who was it?

Wei Yingluo slowly opened her eyes. A hand gradually came into view. It was not the pampered, delicate hand of the Empress, nor the sword-callused hand of Fuheng, but a hand roughened by years of hard, bitter labor—covered in old scars and thick calluses.

“You’re awake?” That hand placed a damp towel on her forehead.

“…Yuan Chunwang?” Wei Yingluo coughed a few times and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Where is this?”

“Momo Liu thought you were sick and had you moved to the storeroom… Here, come drink your medicine.” Yuan Chunwang half-supported her up. Although Wei Yingluo wanted to refuse, she had no strength left in her body. She could only slump against him like mud, letting him hold the medicine bowl to her lips and feed her. He even used his sleeve to wipe away the medicinal liquid that overflowed from the corner of her mouth.

Halfway through wiping, Yuan Chunwang suddenly lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“If we hadn’t already formed an alliance, who would bother with you?” Yuan Chunwang looked down at her and said calmly, “You’ve accepted my care, yet you still call me Yuan Chunwang?”

Wei Yingluo was momentarily stunned. She hadn’t expected him to take their pact so seriously. In truth, ever since he had said “I’ll also be your lover,” she hadn’t taken his words to heart at all—she had simply assumed he was teasing her for his own amusement…

“Change the way you address me.” Slightly rough fingers brushed against her chin as Yuan Chunwang said, “Make me happy for once. After all, I’ve already taken care of you for a whole day and night… Besides me, no one else has come to see you. You only have me now.”

Wei Yingluo was not the only one lying sick in bed.

“Noble Consort Hui.” The Empress Dowager sat beside the bed. “How is your arm recovering?”

One arm was wrapped in white cloth. Noble Consort Hui, her face pale, smiled at the Empress Dowager. “I trouble the Empress Dowager to concern herself. This consort’s arm is already much better. It’s just a pity that this consort was useless and couldn’t save the Empress.”

The Empress Dowager shook her head. “How could this be blamed on you? I know you already did your very best.”

If her arm hadn’t been injured, the Empress Dowager might still have harbored some suspicion. But the imperial physicians had already examined it—Noble Consort Hui’s arm had genuinely been dislocated, and she had suffered considerably during the bone-setting process.

Noble Consort Hui sighed. “These past few days, not only has the Empress Dowager been worried—the Emperor has hardly shown any joy either. In a little while it will be the Empress Dowager’s birthday. This consort truly wishes to make proper preparations and arrange everything well.”

The Empress Dowager laughed softly. “There are still six months until my birthday—you’re worrying far too early. Besides, with Changchun Palace now shrouded in gloom and misery, how could I possibly have the heart for celebration?”

Noble Consort Hui quickly replied, “Precisely because of this, this consort specially invited a troupe skilled in rare folk performances to entertain the Empress Dowager and the Emperor—to bring some liveliness and dispel the stifling air in the palace, so that no one has to remain frowning and anxious all day…”

Before she could finish, a palace maid entered from outside and curtsied to the Empress Dowager. “Empress Dowager, Consort Xian has arrived.”

“Oh?” A trace of delight passed through the Empress Dowager’s eyes. “Invite her in.”

Noble Consort Hui did not miss that flicker of pleasure. Her brows immediately furrowed as a sense of vigilance rose in her heart.

The door opened and Consort Xian entered. She was neither gaudy nor seductive; her demeanor was dignified and restrained. Apart from not being as beautiful as the Empress, she resembled the Empress in almost every other way.

“This consort respectfully greets the Empress Dowager and wishes Her health and peace.” Consort Xian curtsied to the Empress Dowager.

The Empress Dowager smiled and nodded. “You’ve come at just the right time. I’ve already reviewed the account books yesterday. Regarding the matter of opening the moat—are you confident?”

Noble Consort Hui was startled upon hearing this. “Opening the moat? What does that mean?”

Consort Xian explained, “Since the sixteenth year of Kangxi’s reign, lotus roots and water caltrops have been extensively planted in the palace moat. The imperial kitchens use only a quarter of the harvest; the rest is all wasted. This consort proposed to the Empress Dowager that all the harvested lotus roots and water caltrops be sold, and that fish and waterfowl be raised in the moat as well. The proceeds would be recorded in the accounts.”

The more reasonably and logically she spoke, the greater Noble Consort Hui’s wariness grew. Yet on the surface she smiled as if casually asking, “How much silver could that possibly bring in to be worth so much trouble?”

Consort Xian replied gravely, “A white fox-fur coat is not made from the skin of a single fox—it is gathered bit by bit, like collecting scraps to make a robe or piling sand to form a tower. The simplest method would be to lease out the lotus fields. This consort has calculated that it would bring in 125 taels and 9 mace of rent silver per year. It is still an income.”

Noble Consort Hui said coldly, “Consort Xian has only just taken charge of affairs and already wants to change long-standing palace customs. Isn’t that inappropriate?”

Faced with her sharp retort, Consort Xian remained calm and continued smiling. “Not all old customs are good. For example, in the past the Imperial Household Department managed twenty-six pawnshops. This year the Emperor closed fifteen of them and lent the money to merchants instead—the interest far exceeds the profits from pawnshops. There are also things old customs cannot manage. During Kangxi’s time the Imperial Household Department’s official estates totaled only 570,000 mu; now they have doubled. If we rigidly follow old customs everywhere, how can everything possibly be handled properly?”

Noble Consort Hui wanted to argue back, but this had never been her strong suit.

Seeing her rack her brains for a response, Consort Xian smiled inwardly and continued unhurriedly, “Sorting out finances is not merely about how much silver is earned—it is about showing the entire palace that Great Qing is completely different from the extravagant Ming palace. Food, clothing, and daily expenses have already been reduced to one-tenth or one-twentieth of what they once were. Even in opening new sources of revenue and cutting waste, everything is being carried out thoroughly. When this is done from the top down and everyone follows suit, that is truly a good thing.”

The more the Empress Dowager listened, the more satisfied she became. She smiled and nodded. “In the past when the Empress managed affairs, she focused mostly on cutting expenses, which caused quite a bit of discontent in the palace. Since Consort Xian took over palace management, everything has been handled appropriately and with exceptional care. Everyone in the rear palace respects and admires you. We shall proceed according to your plan.”

Consort Xian replied respectfully, “With the Empress Dowager’s trust, this consort will certainly do her utmost. Recently, regions such as Zhili and Tianjin have suffered from floods, and many displaced refugees have poured into the capital. This consort requests permission to set up congee sheds outside Di’anmen Gate. This would accomplish two things: first, provide relief to the disaster victims; second, offer prayers and blessings for the Empress.”

Noble Consort Hui, though unable to come up with any practical ways to economize or increase revenue, was exceptionally skilled at tripping others up. Before Consort Xian could finish speaking, she interjected coolly, “Opening congee stalls to relieve disaster victims is indeed a good deed. However, both grain and silver are problems. It will inevitably require dipping into the Inner Affairs Department treasury. That would make life in the palace even harder. Everyone’s morale is already low— isn’t Consort Xian just making things difficult for people?”

“Rest assured, Noble Consort,” Consort Xian replied with a smile. “According to precedent, we can mobilize donations from the capital’s merchants and gentry. If the Empress Dowager issues an edict establishing the ‘Joy in Charity Precedent,’ the entire city will surely respond enthusiastically. There will be no need to touch the Inner Affairs Department treasury, and the problem can be resolved.”

“Consort Xian truly thinks of everything,” the Empress Dowager said approvingly. “It not only accumulates blessings for the Empress but also comforts the disaster victims—a perfect two-fold benefit. Go ahead and handle it with full confidence. I will give you my complete support!” She beckoned Consort Xian closer, patting her hand affectionately. “Consort Xian, you usually keep such a low profile, yet when it really matters, while all the other consorts are thrown into chaos—even the Empress herself lost her composure—you were the first to react, steadying the entire situation. And now you’ve arranged everything so methodically and thoroughly…”

At this point, the Empress Dowager shook her head slightly and continued, “When the Empress recommended two people to me that day, to be honest, Consort Chun is far inferior to you. The moment she saw those bats, she was so frightened she nearly lost her soul. But you—you are even more decisive and resolute than most men. I feel far more at ease entrusting everything to you. Do not disappoint me!”

Her words carried an unspoken implication: she was subtly sidelining Consort Chun and preparing to hand the full authority over the rear palace to Consort Xian alone.

Consort Xian’s eyes flickered for a moment. On her face, however, she showed only fearful reverence. “Please rest assured, Your Majesty. This humble consort will certainly do her utmost.”

The Empress Dowager nodded in satisfaction, then couldn’t help but sigh. “Such a fine Double Ninth Festival—how did it turn out like this!”

Consort Xian glanced at her, then slowly lowered her gaze.

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 79: Disturbance at the Birthday Banquet

   The Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet was very far from Wei Yingluo, but the unfortunate people brought into being because of that longevity were very close to her.

“Who is that?” On the way back pushing the night-soil cart, Wei Yingluo stopped in her tracks, looking at a boy crying against the wall not far away. A trace of doubt flashed through her eyes.

Judging from his clothes, he was neither a master nor a servant—more like an ordinary commoner. But this was the Forbidden City; not a single brick or tile here could be stepped on or touched by ordinary people.

Yuan Chunwang glanced at the boy and said indifferently, “They’re performers Noble Consort recruited from outside the palace to prepare for the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet. I heard they perform something called…”

“Ten Thousand Purples and Reds.”

The two turned around and saw an old man approaching with a hunched back, holding a snow-white steamed bun in his hand.

“Grandfather!” The boy in the corner threw himself into his arms and cried even harder.

Only then did Wei Yingluo notice that the child was badly injured. The arm exposed from his sleeve was covered in burn scars from molten iron.

“The so-called ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’ involves splashing molten iron onto a brick wall, making it look like ten thousand flowers in full bloom—truly marvelous,” the old man said with a sigh. He broke the steamed bun into pieces and fed them bit by bit to his grandson. “When the Tianjin garrison commander Gao Heng heard about it, he forcibly abducted us into the palace under the pretext of celebrating the birthday. He even forced some villagers—and my grandson—to learn it together. But the performance requires arm strength. He’s still just a child—how could he not get hurt?”

Perhaps because he saw the two of them pushing a manure cart and dressed as low-ranking palace servants, the old man spoke a few extra sentences to them. But the moment a slightly better-dressed and more ornately attired palace person passed by, he immediately shut his mouth, took his grandson’s hand, and left.

After he left, Wei Yingluo and the other continued pushing the manure cart toward the Yong Alley.

“This is what it means to be a slave,” Yuan Chunwang suddenly spoke up. “Forget about peerless skills like ‘Ten Thousand Purples and Reds’—just take the embroiderers in the Embroidery Workshop. If they stayed among the common people, they could work happily at their own pace. But once they enter the palace, they have to toil day and night without rest, so busy they can’t even lift their heads. How many of them go blind or develop trembling hands before they even reach thirty and become useless cripples? This is what it means to be a slave. This is what it means to be ruled by the powerful.”

Wei Yingluo looked at him, wanting to argue back, but no words of rebuttal came to her lips.

“…This is the Forbidden City,” Yuan Chunwang said, staring straight into her eyes. It sounded like both advice and a warning. “Unless you climb to a high position and gain the power to decide other people’s fates, you’d better close your eyes and pretend not to see anything!”

Inside the Imperial View Pavilion, cornus branches were inserted everywhere. Palace maids streamed back and forth, each wearing a chrysanthemum sachet at her waist, delivering bottles of chrysanthemum wine and plates of Double Ninth Festival cakes to the stone tables.

The Empress Dowager and the Empress sat side by side. The Empress Dowager patted the Empress’s hand with evident concern. “Empress, ascending to the Imperial View Pavilion is inconvenient. I told you to rest properly in Changchun Palace—why did you still come?”

The Empress smiled. “It is rare for the Empress Dowager to be in such high spirits; this humble consort should naturally attend upon you. Besides, though my body is healthy, because I am with child, His Majesty has ordered me to lie down in Changchun Palace every day. I truly can’t bear to stay in bed any longer. Being able to come out for some fresh air during this small Double Ninth banquet feels like an act of grace from the Empress Dowager!”

The Empress Dowager also laughed. “You—still, you must take good care of yourself. Don’t push yourself too hard in everything.”

The Empress assented softly. Taking advantage of the Empress Dowager’s good mood, she delivered the words she had prepared long in advance: “Palace affairs are numerous and complicated; this humble consort truly feels overwhelmed and unable to cope. I beg the Empress Dowager’s kindness to allow me to lay down this heavy burden and focus peacefully on nurturing the pregnancy.”

The Empress Dowager pondered for a moment. “Whom does the Empress recommend to take over the management of palace affairs?”

The movements in the pavilion could not escape the notice of those around them. In an instant, every gaze fixed on the Empress’s lips, eagerly awaiting whose name would emerge.

“This humble consort believes that Consort Chun is meticulous and thorough in all things, considerate in every detail; while Consort Xian is of noble character and widely respected throughout the six palaces,” the Empress said. “If the two of them work together, they will surely manage the rear palace in perfect order, allowing His Majesty to have no further worries.”

“I also very much approve of the candidates the Empress has recommended. Consort Chun, Consort Xian—” The Empress Dowager turned her gaze toward the two women. “From this day forward, the two of you will jointly assist in managing palace affairs. Do not disappoint the Empress’s expectations.”

The two exchanged a glance, then quickly rose to curtsy. “This humble consort will certainly do her utmost to share the Empress’s burdens and relieve her labors.”

The Empress Dowager smiled with satisfaction. “Sit down. Today is a family banquet—no need to stand on such ceremony.”

After the two sat, people around them began offering congratulations one after another—but not everyone was willing to raise a cup to them.

For example, Noble Consort Hui sat alone at her seat, idly twirling the wine cup in her hand with an air of perfect composure.

Only when the Imperial Tea and Meal Office brought out the tin hot pot, followed by plates of ingredients for dipping, and finally a large basin of deer blood, did the hand twirling the cup suddenly stop.

Noble Consort Hui leaned back against the armrest of her chair. Naran Chuxue, standing behind her, bent down and whispered in her ear: “Your Ladyship, everything has been prepared properly.”

The corner of Noble Consort Hui’s lips curved upward.

“Ugh—” On the other side, the moment the Empress saw the basin of deer blood, her expression changed. She covered her mouth with her sleeve and let out a series of dry heaves.

Ming Yu’s face paled. “Although deer blood is greatly nourishing in clumps, fresh deer blood is a blood-activating substance. The Empress cannot touch it at this time!”

The Empress Dowager quickly ordered, “Take it away at once!”

The palace maids rushed forward. One of them, halfway there, suddenly cried out “Ai yo!” and pitched forward. By cruel coincidence, she fell right beside the table holding the deer blood. The table shook violently, and the entire basin of deer blood splashed out, staining the ground a vivid, reeking red.

The senior palace maid in charge snapped, “How do you even do your job? Hurry up and clean it—don’t ruin the mistresses’ enjoyment!”

The maids immediately swarmed to clean up, but deer blood is extremely pungent; it could not be dealt with quickly. Before long, the entire pavilion reeked unbearably.

“…Hm?” Consort Xian suddenly let out a soft sound of surprise. “Listen—do you hear something?”

The Empress: “A sound?”

Flap, flap— like the sound of birds beating their wings. It grew louder and louder, closer and closer.

“Look!” Noble Consort Xian suddenly turned her head, her voice carrying a trace of terror. “What is that?”

On the far side of Xiushan, beneath the palace wall, the trees shook violently. Moments later, countless black bats poured out from behind the leaves, blotting out the sky in an instant and surging straight toward Yujing Pavilion.

Consort Xian let out a sharp cry and threw herself toward the Empress Dowager: “Empress Dowager, be careful!”

She knocked the Empress Dowager to the ground, then swiftly tore off her own qipao and draped it over the Empress Dowager’s head and face to shield her from the constantly swooping bats. At the same time she shouted sternly, “What are you panicking for? You—”

Consort Xian pointed at one of the palace maids. “You—go call the guards! Everyone else, come here! Help me protect the Empress Dowager. Anyone who dares to run around screaming will be punished according to palace regulations!”

The eunuchs and maids were completely flustered, but their ingrained servility remained. Now that they had clear orders from their master, they snapped back to their senses, formed a protective circle around the Empress Dowager, and began using their outer robes to swat at the bats. The Empress Dowager stared at the calm and composed Consort Xian, momentarily stunned.

Consort Xian moved with swift precision, issuing a series of accurate commands as though she had prepared for this long in advance. No one else reacted as quickly as she did.

The Empress stood frozen, staring upward. It felt as though a splash of black ink was rushing toward her face. In the blink of an eye the entire world was dyed pitch black—utter darkness where one could not see one’s own hand in front of one’s face. Only sounds remained: now the crash of palace lanterns falling, now the clatter of cups and plates being knocked over, but most of all the panicked screams for help and the chaotic stampede of footsteps.

“Get away, get away!” Ming Yu’s voice rang in her ear, accompanied by the sound of flailing arms. “Your Majesty, watch out!”

Watch out for what? The bats… or the people?

   One bat after another dove toward the deer blood on the ground. Countless wings scraped across the Empress’s cheeks. Countless bodies surged past her, turning into an unstoppable current that carried her forward until, without realizing it, she found herself at the very edge of Yujing Pavilion.

   “Empress! Empress!” Ming Yu’s voice came from behind her, growing more urgent and more distant. “Where are you?”

“I am here!” The Empress had just shouted when she felt a pair of hands appear behind her and shove hard against her back.

The Empress’s foot slipped. If she hadn’t grabbed the railing on the steps in time, she would have tumbled straight down.

“Careful.” A hand suddenly reached out from the side and steadied her teetering body.

The Empress turned her head, about to offer thanks—only for the words to freeze on her tongue the moment she saw the other person’s face.

Noble Consort Hui gave the Empress a charming smile, her beauty as bewitching and blood-red as a peony in full bloom. Then she cried out loudly: “Empress, careful!”

With that, she abruptly let go!

The Empress fell like a kite with its string cut, tumbling down the steps from between Noble Consort Hui’s fingers.

Noble Consort Hui watched the scene from above with the air of a discerning spectator who had just witnessed a perfectly satisfying performance. A satisfied smile slowly spread across her face.

The smile bloomed like a peony at its most extravagant peak, then vanished in an instant. She suddenly withdrew her expression and wailed in distress: “My hand hurts so much! Someone—come quickly! The Empress has fallen from the steps!”

Everyone was shocked. Moments later, Ming Yu forced her way through the crowd and rushed toward the scene like a madwoman. She practically rolled and crawled down the steps before throwing herself beside the Empress.

“Empress! Wake up, Empress!” Her voice cracked with sobs as she cried out desperately, “Help! Save the Empress! Someone, come quickly—save Her Majesty!”

Below Yujing Pavilion, guards hurried over carrying torches. One torch after another gathered around Ming Yu. The torchlight illuminated the unconscious Empress lying on the ground—and also revealed… the large pool of fresh blood spreading from beneath her skirt.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 78: Keeping Each Other Warm

After the weeding was finished, everyone else went back to rest, but Wei Yingluo still had to wash a large pile of night-soil buckets.

Several gashes on her hands—cuts from the tough weeds—now burned with piercing pain the moment they touched water. While grimacing, Wei Yingluo soaked her hands in the bucket. Halfway through, a hand suddenly reached out from beside her and pulled her injured hand out of the water.

Wei Yingluo turned her head. “Yuan Chunwang!”

Yuan Chunwang glanced at her. “Call me Big Brother Yuan.”

Wei Yingluo’s mouth twitched. “That’s so cringey—I can’t say it. Let Jinxiu and the others call you that.”

“Forget them. I’m not interested.” Yuan Chunwang gave a lazy smile, suddenly pulled out a few strands of wild grass, stuffed them into his mouth, chewed them thoroughly, then spat out the pulp and applied it to her wounds.

Wei Yingluo was startled and tried to pull her hand back, but he explained, “This is Sonchus oleraceus—field sow thistle. It stops bleeding and reduces inflammation.”

Wei Yingluo was half-convinced, half-doubtful. After a while, a cool, numbing sensation spread over the wounds, and she realized he was telling the truth.

“People like us are born with worthless lives. In the eyes of the Noble Ladies, we’re just watchdogs guarding the house. Once we lose our usefulness, even if you die by the roadside, you’re nothing but a stray dog—no one will spare you a second glance.” Yuan Chunwang smiled as he spoke to her. “So don’t be so foolish. You have to cherish your own life.”

Wei Yingluo looked at him with complicated emotions. She couldn’t understand why he was suddenly being so kind to her. Did he have some ulterior motive?

When she came back to herself, the thought struck her as absurd. Perhaps he had once felt the same suspicion toward her—wondering whether her sudden kindness carried some hidden agenda.

The world is unpredictable; almost overnight, their positions and their thoughts had completely reversed.

After tending to Wei Yingluo’s wounds, Yuan Chunwang stood up—but instead of leaving, he turned around and began scrubbing the night-soil buckets for her. The sound of water splashing filled the air, accompanied by his clear, crisp voice. With his back to her, he said:

“No matter how much Fucha Fuheng loves you, it’s only because you’re young and beautiful, fresh and interesting. Even if you use every trick to marry into the Fucha family, after many years pass and the passion fades, will he still love you as deeply as he does now?”

He suddenly turned his head, smiled at her, and asked:

“Forget about the future—just look at right now. When you need him the most, where is he?”

Wei Yingluo’s face stiffened. She replied coldly, “None of your business!”

“If I don’t mind your business, then let him come help you scrub these.” Yuan Chunwang laughed.

Wei Yingluo struggled up from the ground and reached out to snatch the brush from his hand, but Yuan Chunwang raised his arm high. Though he was only a young man, his arms were long, and even when she stood on tiptoe, she couldn’t reach it.

“I’m doing this for your own good,” Yuan Chunwang said with a smile. The smile looked utterly fake no matter how you looked at it.

Wei Yingluo withdrew her hand and stared at him coldly. “Yuan Chunwang, I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

Yuan Chunwang was momentarily taken aback.

“The moment you smile like that, I know what kind of mischief you’re plotting,” Wei Yingluo said gravely. “You’re not doing this for my sake. You’re just too lonely, so you want me to become like you—hating others, taking revenge on others, eventually turning into the same kind of person as you… That way you won’t be alone anymore. Isn’t that right?”

Yuan Chunwang remained expressionless for a long moment. Then the corners of his mouth slowly lifted, and the smile spread wider bit by bit.

Compared to his earlier smiles, this one was both eerie and strikingly beautiful—like a venomous snake slowly rearing up, sending a chill down one’s spine. Yet for some reason, Wei Yingluo felt that this was his true smile, one that came straight from the heart.

“The moment your eyes flicker, I know what kind of mischief you’re plotting,” Yuan Chunwang said. He seized her right hand, which was covered in wounds and scars, wrapping around it like a snake coiling around prey that interested it. A bright, eager light danced in his eyes. “We understand each other so well—it’s like looking into a mirror. How about this… stop liking Fucha Fuheng. Come and like me instead. Wouldn’t that be much better?”

“No thanks,” Wei Yingluo replied without the slightest hesitation, pulling her hand back. “Two snakes are both cold-blooded creatures. Can they really warm each other?”

Yuan Chunwang pressed his lips together. Rather than looking offended, he seemed to be savoring the word “snake.” In the end he appeared oddly satisfied and let out a soft, hissing laugh. “If we can’t warm each other, we can at least take care of each other! Wei Yingluo—what do you say to an alliance?”

Wei Yingluo hadn’t expected that word to come out of his mouth. “An alliance?”

Yuan Chunwang glanced around, then used a stack of night-soil buckets piled like a wall to climb up in a few quick steps. Standing on the top, he turned back and extended his right hand toward Wei Yingluo. “Come up.”

Wei Yingluo hesitated. This person was unpredictable and impossible to read with ordinary logic. Truthfully, she didn’t really want to get too involved with him…

Yuan Chunwang gave another eerie smile and suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs: “Wei Yingluo killed Manager Zh—”

“Shut up!” Wei Yingluo was shocked. Without waiting for his help, she scrambled up using the other buckets, hands and feet working together until she reached the top. She immediately clamped both hands over his mouth and hissed in a low voice, “Are you insane? If I get caught, what good outcome do you think you’ll get?”

Faced with the furious Wei Yingluo, Yuan Chunwang merely curved the corners of his eyes. His eyes were exceptionally beautiful—especially when he smiled. They seemed heartless yet full of feeling, carrying a bone-deep tenderness.

He lifted a hand and gently pulled her fingers away from his lips, then drew her down to sit beside him. Tilting his head back, he said, “Look.”

Wei Yingluo frowned and followed his gaze. Above them stretched the vast night sky, filled with countless stars that formed a silver river, quietly flowing overhead—and quietly flowing into her eyes as well.

“So what if someone is born of noble blood? In the endless river of stars, a person is just a tiny speck. Who is nobler than whom?” Yuan Chunwang’s voice sounded softly beside her ear.

Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head. He was still gazing up at the starry sky, ambition brighter than starlight shimmering in his eyes. He seemed to be murmuring to himself, yet also swearing an oath to the heavens: “One day, I will make everyone see with their own eyes just how far a low-born mongrel dog like me can walk, and how high I can climb, inside the Forbidden City!”

Wei Yingluo suddenly felt her fingers tighten. Looking down, she saw that he was gripping her hand hard. When she raised her head again, he had already turned to face her. A pair of eyes bright as stars stared straight into hers. His voice was extremely gentle, carrying an enchantment even more intoxicating than the night itself:

“Wei Yingluo, from now on, I am your older brother, your closest confidant, your protector—and the same goes for you! We rely on each other, support each other, and survive together in the Forbidden City!”

Wei Yingluo looked at him with a complicated expression.

No one can survive entirely alone—especially not in a hellish place like the Cleansing Department. And if she had to choose an ally, after thinking it over, the Yuan Chunwang standing before her was actually the best choice. Compared to Jinxiu and the others, he had brains, he had courage, and most importantly, each of them held something incriminating over the other.

A relationship built on shared guilt was sometimes far more unbreakable than even a marriage.

Once she made up her mind, Wei Yingluo immediately gripped his icy fingers in return and said solemnly, “All right. You look after me, I look after you. The two of us will survive together!”

Yuan Chunwang lowered his head to look at their clasped hands, then raised his head with a smile. “How about I become your lover too, alright?”

Wei Yingluo felt a pang of embarrassment in her heart. Why was he suddenly joking around when they were talking about serious matters? What exactly was going through this person’s mind? Seeing him lean his face even closer, taking advantage, she immediately reached out and pushed him. “In your dreams!”

Who would have thought that Yuan Chunwang seemed to have anticipated her move? The moment she extended her hand, he caught it. As a result, both of them lost their balance together and tumbled down from the top of the wall in a rolling heap, sending the night-soil buckets scattering in all directions.

Wei Yingluo winced in pain, struggling to sit up from the ground. Furious, she snapped, “Yuan Chunwang, you—”

“Hahaha!” Yuan Chunwang, on the other hand, was delighted. Even after they landed, he still didn’t let go of her hand. He pulled it to his mouth and bit down, leaving a shallow but distinct tooth mark. Staring at Wei Yingluo, he said, “I told you long ago—I can guess every single one of your moves. Stop wasting your energy. Come on, call me ‘big brother’!”

“Big brother my foot!”

Under the same night sky, some people were close at hand, others far beyond reach. Some used their teeth to bite Wei Yingluo, while others could only silently recite her name in their hearts.

“Sigh.” Inside Changchun Palace, the Empress sighed in front of the mirror, her expression weary, wanting to speak but holding back.

The healing ointments had long been prepared—not just one bottle, but more than a dozen piled on the table, enough to last ten years. With just one word from her, they could be sent to the Department of Punished Labor and placed in Wei Yingluo’s hands. Yet she hesitated for a long time before finally giving up.

The Emperor’s anger had not yet subsided. She feared that her momentary kindness might end up harming the other party instead.

“Your ladyship.” Ming Yu stood behind her, removing the hair ornaments from her head. “The imperial physician said you need to rest quietly and recuperate. Tomorrow the Empress Dowager is holding a banquet at Yujing Pavilion for the Chongyang Festival. Since you are with child, climbing heights is already inconvenient. Why not request leave in advance? The Empress Dowager has always been lenient—she won’t blame you!”

Before the Empress could reply, Erqing had already scolded, “Ming Yu, the Empress Dowager has been depressed ever since the matter with Dowager Consort Yu. Today she is forcing herself to hold this small Chongyang banquet. If the Empress does not attend, wouldn’t that dampen her spirits even more? Even if the Empress Dowager says nothing, what about the one in Chuxiu Palace? She stirs up trouble even when there’s no wind—let alone when Niangniang personally hands her a handle! When the time comes, Noble Consort will surely accuse the Empress of relying on her pregnancy to act spoiled and arrogant!”

Ming Yu pouted. “But Niangniang is clearly unwell…”

“Enough, enough.” The Empress laughed helplessly. “Look how nervous the two of you are. This palace is perfectly healthy—there’s nothing seriously wrong. I’m just feeling a bit lazy and don’t want to move around, that’s all.”

She spoke lightly, but in truth, over the past few days she had been feeling increasingly unwell. Still, she was extremely good at enduring; all her bitterness and fatigue were hidden deep inside, and others could hardly notice.

“Tomorrow, Erqing will stay behind. Ming Yu will accompany this palace to the banquet.” Looking at her increasingly pale face in the mirror, the Empress paused for a moment before adding, “…When the time comes, apply a bit more rouge for this palace.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 77: Venomous Snake

   Darker than the night itself was perhaps the manure cart in front of her, covered with its lid.

Having avoided prying eyes the whole way, Wei Yingluo arrived at the courtyard where the night-soil carts were parked. She lifted the cover and looked inside—then let out a sharp cry and stumbled back several steps.

The pale moonlight shone into the cart.

Manager Zhang was already a cold, lifeless corpse.

But the cause of his death was definitely not the single blow to the back of the head. His entire body was covered in venomous snakes. One of them was coiled around his neck, rearing up its brightly colored upper body and hissing at Wei Yingluo, flicking its forked tongue.

Where did these venomous snakes come from? No—who put these venomous snakes here?

“Are you here to silence a witness?” A pleasant voice rang out from behind Wei Yingluo, each word clear and crisp like the tinkling of spring water.

Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head and saw Yuan Chunwang step out from behind a tree, walking toward her unhurriedly. His calm and composed bearing made it seem as though this place belonged to him, and he had merely come out to greet a guest who had been waiting for him for a long time.

“…It wasn’t me who killed him,” Wei Yingluo said, her voice somewhat hoarse. “When I got here, he was already dead… killed by these snakes…”

“What a fitting way for him to die,” Yuan Chunwang said with a smile. “A single blow to the head would have been far too cheap for him. This is much better—unable to live, unable to die, suffering the whole night long, and in the end dying with eyes wide open.”

His tone was far too relaxed, and the details he described were far too precise. Wei Yingluo couldn’t help blurting out:

“…Was it you?”

“If it wasn’t me, then it was you,” Yuan Chunwang said, glancing past her toward something behind her.

Wei Yingluo hid the carrying pole behind her back a little more and shook her head. “You’re wrong. I’ve never even killed a chicken—how could I possibly kill a person?”

“Oh?” Yuan Chunwang gave a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really?”

A moment later, Wei Yingluo burst into laughter—a smile so identical to Yuan Chunwang’s that it seemed to mirror his own. “False. If you didn’t kill him, I would have. A bastard like that who tortures palace maids to death—I naturally had to get rid of him, so he wouldn’t be released outside the palace and go on harming others.”

“And so he wouldn’t wake up and come looking for revenge against us,” Yuan Chunwang added. He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled over until he stood right in front of Wei Yingluo. “Cut the grass and remove the roots, eliminate future trouble once and for all. Finally, you’ve stopped pretending to be an innocent, kind-hearted little palace maid! Wei Yingluo, I like this version of you very much—because deep down, you and I are exactly the same kind of person!”

Wei Yingluo gazed at him quietly. How could she ever have thought he was some sensitive, pitiful little creature? This was clearly a brilliantly colored venomous snake—its appearance as vivid as its poison was deadly.

His footsteps halted right before her. Yuan Chunwang gave her a gentle smile. “Now we’re on the same side.”

“…On the same side?” Wei Yingluo blinked.

“Of course.” Yuan Chunwang tilted his chin toward Manager Zhang’s direction. “We both had a hand in this. You cover for me, I cover for you—what else could we be but comrades?”

A breeze blew from the direction of Manager Zhang, carrying the faint stench of a corpse along with the low hiss of a snake.

Wei Yingluo pressed her lips together. A strand of hair clung to her lower lip; as she reached up to brush it away, Yuan Chunwang moved first—his finger gently lifted the strand past her lips.

“…What are you doing?” Wei Yingluo quickly stepped back, brows furrowing. “Do you have any idea how rude that is to a woman?”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” Yuan Chunwang laughed carelessly. “Between you and me, there are no such things as propriety between men and women—what are you getting nervous about? Besides, I’m hardly some well-bred gentleman raised on Confucian rules. I’ve never been molded by etiquette, so where would rudeness even come from?”

Wei Yingluo bit her lip. Ever since he had revealed his true face in front of her, he had grown bolder and bolder. In the end she could only say helplessly, “The palace maids in the Laundry Cleaning Department all adore you so much—I have no desire to become a target for their jealousy!”

Yuan Chunwang scoffed with icy disdain. “Rest assured—this is the Yong Alley.”

Wei Yingluo was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“The lowest, most despised palace maids of the Laundry Cleaning Department still look down on the filthy eunuchs who haul the night-soil carts. Their so-called ‘liking’ is nothing more than chasing after a pretty face—just like that Jinxiu in your room—” He paused, then smiled with serpentine allure.

Wei Yingluo felt a chill. Of all people, he chose to mention Jinxiu. What did he mean? Could it be that, just like her, he had secretly followed and observed, and knew about the grudge between her and Jinxiu?

“…Jinxiu never sets foot in a place like this either! I can’t afford to accept that kind of ‘liking.’” Yuan Chunwang finished the sentence he had left hanging earlier.

Wei Yingluo studied him deeply, her voice turning a little dry. “Yuan Chunwang, is that why you despise them?”

“I don’t love women,” Yuan Chunwang said calmly.

Wei Yingluo was stunned. “Then you like… men?”

Yuan Chunwang threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t love men either.”

“You don’t love men, and you don’t love women…” Wei Yingluo stared at him as the answer became obvious.

“I only love myself,” Yuan Chunwang stated frankly. One hand gently lifted Wei Yingluo’s chin; he lowered his gaze to look down at her and said in a soft voice, “You’re the same. Wei Yingluo, Fucha Fuheng stands in the sunlight, while you can only stand in the shadows. The two of you will never have a future. In the end, you’ll realize no one loves you—the only one who will ever love you is yourself.”

Wei Yingluo’s eyes widened. Suddenly she seized the unruly hand that still held her chin and asked in a low, serious voice, “That day you didn’t leave—you were watching from the side, weren’t you?”

She had asked this question several times before, but every time she received no answer.

Until today, Yuan Chunwang looked at her, the smile on his face slowly widening—whether it was teasing or mockery was impossible to tell. Laughing, he said, “Yes, I didn’t leave. I saw… I saw everything.”

Because of those words, Wei Yingluo couldn’t sleep properly for several nights.

Three days later, with two dark panda-like circles under her eyes, she was wearily pulling weeds, her mind weighed down with heavy thoughts.

The sun blazed high overhead. The palace maids pulling weeds alongside her were drenched in sweat; drop after drop fell to the ground only to be instantly evaporated by the scorching heat.

One palace maid wiped the sweat from her forehead and said, “Hey, have you all heard? Manager Zhang has really gone missing! Chief Steward Wu is furious—says he was unreliable and irresponsible in his duties, and that when they catch him he’ll be severely punished!”

“Hmph,” another maid beside her snorted. “That kind of beast is better off disappearing forever!”

“Still got energy to chat? Have you finished your work?” Momo Liu’s voice cut in abruptly. “Wait—get up, get up! Everyone up! Clear the way for the master!”

All the working palace maids immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to face the wall. Only Wei Yingluo forgot to avert her gaze; she remained squatting on the ground, staring dazedly at the approaching imperial palanquin of the Empress.

Slap! A fiery sting exploded across Wei Yingluo’s back. She turned to see Momo Liu standing behind her, whip in hand, eyes glaring with terrifying ferocity.

Wei Yingluo clenched her teeth, knelt, and retreated, blending into the vast sea of palace maids like an insignificant drop of rain.

The palanquin passed behind her. The palanquin moved away. She didn’t know whether the person inside had seen her. She didn’t know whether the person inside had sighed for her sake.

“Wei Yingluo, you are now nothing but a lowly servant in the Cleansing Division,” Momo Liu walked up beside her, using the handle of the whip to lift her chin. Her smile was full of malice as she reminded her, “Do you really think the Empress still remembers you? Don’t dream of escaping this sea of suffering. Behave yourself and work obediently!”

Wei Yingluo slowly lowered her head.

Though Manager Zhang was dead, her situation had not improved. On the contrary, her days grew harder and her tasks heavier, as if someone—someone especially powerful and highly placed—had given the order to torment her.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 76: The Attack

“Li Yu.” Hongli tossed the memorial in his hand aside. “How many days has that woman been scrubbing night-soil buckets in the Cleansing Division?”

Li Yu hurriedly replied, “More than half a month.”

Under the candlelight, there wasn’t the slightest smile on Hongli’s face. In fact, ever since he failed to obtain Yingluo from the Empress in Changchun Palace, he had been wearing a foul expression for a full half month.

“She hasn’t cried?” Hongli asked with a sullen face.

Li Yu inwardly groaned but could only answer honestly, “No.”

“She hasn’t begged for mercy?” Hongli’s face immediately became even darker.

“No…” The words had barely left Li Yu’s mouth when Hongli swept all the memorials off the table with one furious motion and roared, “I see she won’t shed tears until she sees her own coffin—and even after seeing the coffin she’d probably still insist on lying down in it!”

Watching the supreme ruler of the Nine Provinces throw a tantrum like a petulant child, Li Yu really didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He cautiously probed, “Then… shall this servant immediately give orders to increase her workload?”

Hongli’s cold gaze swept over. Just as Li Yu’s heart was pounding, thinking he had misread the imperial intent and said the wrong thing, Hongli huffed with a sneer:

“Increase it until she cries!”

In the Yong Alley.

   Wei Yingluo stood with head bowed and posture upright. Standing before her were Momo Liu and Manager Zhang.

Normally when Manager Zhang came to inspect this place, he would cover his nose with a handkerchief. Today was different—he put the handkerchief down, sniffed, and asked in confusion, “What did you put in those night-soil buckets? Why can’t I smell anything?”

“Reporting to Manager Zhang,” Wei Yingluo answered, “ordinary commodes have charcoal ash added, those used by consorts have fine sand, and for even better ones—this servant couldn’t find the materials. If one could obtain fragrant wood and leave behind the fine powder, it would wrap up the filth so not a trace of odor could be detected.”

Manager Zhang clicked his tongue in admiration. “You really are clever. No wonder the Empress values you so highly. Ai, someone like you being kept here is truly a waste. Momo Liu, in the future let her do some lighter…”

Before he could finish, a little eunuch suddenly darted in from outside, leaned close to his ear and whispered a few words. Manager Zhang’s expression changed instantly. He berated:

“Wei Yingluo, even scrubbing toilets you manage to do it differently from everyone else—this is called being pretentious! Keep scrubbing. After you finish, go carry all the water!”

With that, Manager Zhang huffed with a sneer, flicked his sleeve and left. But as he passed Yuan Chunwang, one arm casually reached toward the other man’s waist—only to be dodged by Yuan Chunwang taking a step back.

Wei Yingluo quietly took in the whole scene.

“Ungrateful thing!” Perhaps feeling he had lost face, Manager Zhang viciously cursed once and then hurriedly departed.

The little eunuch who had come to deliver the message earlier sauntered up to Yuan Chunwang and spoke in a sarcastic, affected tone:

“Born with such a good face, yet you have a block of wood for a brain! Manager Zhang has taken a fancy to you—that’s the good fortune you accumulated over several lifetimes. As long as you follow him, you won’t have to remain the lowest-ranking cleansing soldier anymore!”

Yuan Chunwang replied coldly, “I am a man, not a rabbit.”

This was the first time Wei Yingluo had heard him speak. Every word was clear and crisp, like spring water tinkling—unspeakably pleasant to the ear.

Not only could he speak, but what he said was especially sharp. In the end the little eunuch who had come to pick on him couldn’t out-talk him, and could only throw down one last vicious remark before stamping his foot and leaving in frustration.

“So you can talk after all.” Only after the other person left did Wei Yingluo step forward to chat with Yuan Chunwang. Very sincerely she said, “Your voice sounds really nice.”

Unexpectedly, he suddenly glanced at her, his face flushed red, and awkwardly turned his head away.

This reaction actually stunned Wei Yingluo for a moment. For no apparent reason, why did he suddenly look so shy? If he were interested in her, he should have been embarrassed the first time they met—why wait until now, after so much time had passed… wait!

“You… didn’t leave that day, did you?” Wei Yingluo’s voice involuntarily rose. “You saw me undressing?”

Yuan Chunwang glanced at her, then suddenly turned and left. No matter how much Wei Yingluo called after him, he didn’t stop, and naturally he didn’t give her a definite answer.

That half-hearted, ambiguous response was the most unsettling of all.

One must understand that a palace maid having an illicit affair with a guard was a grave taboo—especially for someone like her, who had already committed an offense and been punished by being sent to the Cleansing Department.

“That day… did he not leave? Did he see me with Fuheng? How much did he see? How much did he hear?” Wei Yingluo murmured to herself. “No, I have to find a way to get a clear answer.”

Getting a straight answer out of Yuan Chunwang’s mouth was truly difficult. Most of the time he was like a mute—nothing you said could pry a single word out of him.

After several fruitless days of trying, Wei Yingluo grew increasingly preoccupied. On her way to the dining hall to get food, she accidentally bumped into someone.

“Watch where you’re going.” Manager Zhang gave her a glance, then brushed past her.

Wei Yingluo watched his departing back thoughtfully. Then she turned back, lifted the lid of the pot—only one steamed bun remained inside. She shook her head and wrapped it up.

“Here.” When she found Yuan Chunwang again, she held out the still-warm steamed bun.

It was the same old well, the same bucket of well water. Yuan Chunwang sat beside the bucket, scooping water into his mouth spoonful by spoonful. That was his meal for the day. That was all the food he had.

Even after Wei Yingluo’s arm grew tired from holding it out, Yuan Chunwang never once turned his head to look at her, let alone take the steamed bun from her hand.

“A person has to eat to live. Otherwise, sooner or later you’ll collapse.” Wei Yingluo placed the bun—together with the handkerchief it was wrapped in—down on the grass beside him. “If you collapse, I’ll be the one who has to push the night-soil cart out of the palace. So eat.”

Certain that he wouldn’t touch it while she was there, Wei Yingluo left without hesitation after setting the bun down.

Behind her, Yuan Chunwang stopped scooping water. For a long moment he looked at her retreating figure with a complicated expression, then slowly shifted his gaze to the steamed bun on the ground.

After a long while, a pale hand finally reached out toward it.

From behind a tree, someone secretly watched the scene and began counting silently in their heart: one, two, three… When they reached fifty, there was a sudden thud. Their heart leaped with joy. They stepped out from behind the tree in a few quick strides.

Half of the eaten steamed bun lay on the ground, rolling in the mud. Yuan Chunwang braced one hand against the well’s edge, trying shakily to stand, but after several attempts he fell back down each time.

“…Who’s there?” He jerked his head around.

Manager Zhang had already emerged from behind the tree and was standing beside him. Lust swelled across his face. He shoved Yuan Chunwang to the ground and pressed a greasy mouth against his face in a frenzy of kisses. “Little Chunwang, let’s see where you can run to this time!”

Yuan Chunwang’s face turned ashen. He struggled with all his might, but his limbs were limp and weak; the blows he landed on the other man felt like nothing at all.

“I’ve taken a fancy to you—that’s your good fortune. Just behave and let me take good care of you.” Seeing this, Manager Zhang grew even more smug. He began to undo the other’s sash. Halfway through, his movements suddenly froze. His eyes widened round and huge. Slowly, he rolled off Yuan Chunwang.

Behind him stood Wei Yingluo, gripping a carrying pole used for night-soil buckets. One end of the pole was stained with strands of hair and fresh blood.

After catching her breath for a moment, Wei Yingluo said to Yuan Chunwang, “Can you get up by yourself?”

Yuan Chunwang propped himself up on his elbows, but he couldn’t lift his body.

Wei Yingluo dropped the pole and was about to help him up from the ground when Yuan Chunwang reached out and pushed her away.

“Put that thing away. Don’t let anyone see it.” He pointed at the bloodstained carrying pole on the ground, then turned his gaze to the unconscious Manager Zhang. Very calmly, he said, “And him—if he lives, neither of us will survive.”

Wei Yingluo was silent for a moment. She walked over to Manager Zhang, grabbed one of his arms, and began dragging him toward the night-soil cart. A young girl didn’t have much strength; before long she was covered in sweat.

Yuan Chunwang watched her from the ground for a long while. Finally, having gathered a little strength, he laboriously climbed to his feet, staggered a few steps over, and grabbed Manager Zhang’s other arm. With tremendous effort, the two of them managed to heave the man into the night-soil cart.

After it was done, Yuan Chunwang even untied Manager Zhang’s sash and used it to bind his hands and feet. Then he scooped up a clump of muddy earth mixed with bits of grass from the ground and stuffed it into Manager Zhang’s mouth.

Wei Yingluo watched from the side. Every single one of his movements was meticulous to the extreme.

All she could do was pull off Manager Zhang’s waist token and say to him, “Tomorrow morning at dawn, the night-soil cart will be transported out of the Forbidden City. The cart is filthy, and the guards are used to it—they won’t inspect it. Without his waist token, he would be considered a private escapee from the palace. Returning would mean the death penalty. He definitely wouldn’t dare come back.”

Yuan Chunwang stood silently to one side.

He rarely spoke, and merely from his expression, Wei Yingluo found it very difficult to guess what he was thinking. She carefully tucked the waist token away, hesitated for a moment, then offered a word of comfort: “Without him around, you can finally go back and eat in peace. You won’t have to hide anymore to eat rotten leftovers scooped out of the gutter, or drink cold water to fill your stomach.”

“You were following me,” Yuan Chunwang suddenly spoke, his tone calm and certain.

Wei Yingluo was taken aback.

“Otherwise, how would you know that besides well water, I also dig through the gutter for food?” Yuan Chunwang narrowed his eyes and smiled. “You just said it yourself—I eat these things ‘while avoiding people.’”

This time it was Wei Yingluo’s turn to fall silent.

While she was thinking of how to explain, Yuan Chunwang suddenly shifted his gaze to Manager Zhang and said indifferently, “But first, we still need to deal with this nuisance. You too—get rid of that carrying pole in your hand first.”

The two of them temporarily split up to act separately. After cleaning the blood off the carrying pole, Wei Yingluo returned to the palace maids’ quarters in the Department of Punished Labor. It was already late; most of the maids had already crawled into bed. The few who were still awake were huddled together whispering. But the room was so small that even the slightest sound was amplified, and fragments of their hushed conversation drifted into Wei Yingluo’s ears. She heard them talking about Manager Zhang.

“Just now Liu’er was looking everywhere for Manager Zhang. Strange—where did that old bastard disappear to?”

“Maybe he drank too much and passed out somewhere!”

“Don’t even mention that beast. Do you remember how Nian’er and Liu’er died? When Liu’er died, her eyes wouldn’t even close! How many palace maids has he ruined? He wouldn’t even spare the good-looking eunuchs. It would be best if he never wakes up one day!”

Wei Yingluo had arrived late and didn’t know what kind of person Manager Zhang was. Now, with the maids exchanging words back and forth, a complete image of him gradually took shape in her mind.

Or rather—not a person. Merely a beast.

The discussion gradually faded away, replaced by the rise and fall of snoring all around her. Wei Yingluo turned over, gazing at the cold, clear moonlight outside the window. For some reason, the face of Yuan Chunwang suddenly appeared in her mind—along with the words he had spoken while looking at Manager Zhang: “But first, we still need to deal with this nuisance…”

Wei Yingluo abruptly sat up in bed.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 75: Returning the Favor.

   Changing rooms was impossible. Though she didn’t know exactly why, Momo Liu was extremely unfriendly toward her. Otherwise, with so many different chores in the Cleansing Department, there was no reason to immediately assign her the dirtiest and most exhausting tasks, nor to give her the bed closest to the night-soil bucket.

Since asking others for help was useless, starting the next day, whenever Wei Yingluo had any free moment, she wandered around the courtyard, stopping here and there, collecting leftover charcoal and ashes from the ground.

The others didn’t understand what she was doing and pulled Jinxiu aside to ask: “You’re close to her. What do you think she’s up to?”

It was the height of summer, yet she was gathering the charcoal ashes left over from winter use in the various palaces. Jinxiu found it utterly baffling and had no idea what she was planning. She could only give a cold snort and say, “That girl is full of schemes. Whatever she’s doing, just stay away from her… Ah!”

Her gaze shifted away from Wei Yingluo and fixed firmly in one direction. In an extremely sweet, syrupy voice she called out, “Brother Yuan, you came so early!”

The rumbling sound of wheels grew closer and closer. A night-soil cart was pushed into the courtyard.

The filthiest thing in the world, the most foul-smelling thing in the world—and the one pushing it was the most beautiful man in the world.

Hongli and Fuheng were also extremely handsome, but their beauty was a masculine kind—one refined and elegant, the other valiant and heroic. The youth before them was different. He looked about sixteen or seventeen. Perhaps because he had been castrated, his face was as delicate as a woman’s, exuding an androgynous, bewitchingly sinister beauty.

It was as though all the beauty and all the resentment of the women banished to this Yong Alley had been drawn out and poured into a single person.

“Brother Yuan, why won’t you pay attention to me?” Jinxiu sidled up to him, tugging playfully at his sleeve like a spoiled child.

The young eunuch shook off her fingers, lifted the buckets one by one from the courtyard, emptied all the waste into the night-soil cart, then pushed the cart away without saying a single word.

Jinxiu stamped her foot in anger behind him. Another palace maid mocked her: “I told you long ago—Brother Chunwang won’t like you. Stop wasting your energy!”

Jinxiu shot her a glare. “If he doesn’t like me, does he like you? Look at your own face!”

“Even if you’re pretty, you’re still not as pretty as Yuan Chunwang,” another palace maid said, shaking her head. “But what’s the use of him being so good-looking? His personality is colder than ice. Even if I wanted to find a ‘food companion,’ I wouldn’t choose someone like him.”

“As if he’d want you even if you did want him…”

So the young eunuch’s name was Yuan Chunwang.

The palace maids in the courtyard, taking Yuan Chunwang as their starting point, began discussing the other eunuchs. The conversation gradually grew deeper and more explicit—food and sex being fundamental human nature. In the deep palace, the lonely consorts could seek the Emperor; the palace maids could secretly seek the guards. But for this group of lowly women, all they could do was find some equally unfortunate eunuch nearby, form a “food companion” relationship—a fake husband-and-wife arrangement.

Yuan Chunwang was clearly the “food companion” target Jinxiu had set her sights on—or rather, the target most of the palace maids had their eyes on. After all, a eunuch so young and so beautiful was extremely rare. With such looks, even if his temperament was a little cold, he should still have been able to serve one of the higher-ranking ladies. No one knew why he had been demoted to the Cleansing Department…

Everyone was speculating and gossiping when Wei Yingluo shook her head, unwilling to join in. She continued quietly gathering the leftover charcoal from the ground until Momo Liu entered the courtyard and called her back to continue yesterday’s work.

Another night passed, and the night-soil buckets were once again piled as full as the day before—still just as foul. Even though Wei Yingluo had folded her handkerchief into a triangular mask and tied it over her face to block the smell, the odor still seeped through, making her face turn pale.

I couldn’t eat tonight’s dinner either.

After finishing cleaning the night-soil buckets, Wei Yingluo walked heavily toward the well, intending to draw a few buckets of water to wash her hands and also wipe down her body. Otherwise, she really wouldn’t be able to swallow even one bite of the steamed bun in her arms.

But unexpectedly, someone had already arrived at the well ahead of her.

Gulp, gulp, gulp…

A wooden bucket was pulled up from the well, sloshing with ice-cold well water. The moment the bucket touched the ground, the person who drew it immediately braced both hands on the rim and buried his face in the water, drinking greedily with loud gulping sounds.

Wei Yingluo’s footsteps were very light, but he was as alert as a small wild animal. Almost the instant she approached, his right ear twitched, and he abruptly turned his face toward her.

An extremely beautiful, yet extremely cold face.

It was as though a beauty who had died by falling into a well had absorbed the moonlight, turned into a wisp of white mist, slowly drifted out of the well mouth, sighed softly, and returned to the mortal world.

“It’s you?” Wei Yingluo was momentarily stunned.

The beautiful young man before her was none other than Yuan Chunwang. His gaze, cool as well water, swept across Wei Yingluo’s cheek. He lifted a hand to wipe the water droplets from the corner of his lips, then stood up and turned to leave.

Just as they passed each other, Wei Yingluo suddenly said, “Wait.”

Yuan Chunwang’s steps halted.

Wei Yingluo hesitated for a moment, then took out a steamed bun wrapped in a handkerchief from her arms and held it out. “Do you want to eat this?”

Momo Liu had been disgusting her nonstop today, deliberately sending her dinner into the night-soil room once again, completely ruining Wei Yingluo’s appetite.

Moreover, the weather was hot. Especially in the large communal bed where dozens of people slept, the night felt like a steaming cage. A steamed bun left overnight would definitely go bad. Rather than throw it away, it might as well be given to the person in front of her…

Yuan Chunwang stared at the steamed bun in her hand. His throat moved noticeably.

Wei Yingluo took in this detail and thought to herself: As expected.

Though this young man had outstanding looks, his complexion was very poor. Up close, he was so thin that the bones were visible. Combined with the earlier scene of him treating water as a meal, Wei Yingluo immediately understood: life in the Department of Punished Labor must be extremely hard for this boy—perhaps even worse than hers.

After all, no matter how much Momo Liu targeted her, she still gave her food to eat. But this young man… it seemed he hadn’t had a full meal in a very long time.

The palace was full of sordid affairs. They weren’t close, so Wei Yingluo didn’t ask too many questions. She simply felt that he needed it, and she happened to have no appetite, so why not do him a small favor? She pushed the steamed bun a little closer and said, “Take it and eat.”

Yuan Chunwang looked at the steamed bun in her hand. His gaze slowly moved upward. A pair of eyes filled with confusion and wariness fixed on her face—like a small animal watching someone trying to feed it. Finally, he turned his head sharply and ran away.

Watching his fleeing back, Wei Yingluo let out a helpless sigh and turned to look at the wooden bucket he had left behind.

He had only drunk about a quarter of it. There was still plenty of well water left in the bucket. Having worked hard all day and eaten nothing, Wei Yingluo’s arms and legs felt weak and sore. She really didn’t want to go through the effort of drawing fresh water again, so she simply decided to use the remaining water he had left to wash herself.

Wei Yingluo set the steamed bun aside, then dipped the handkerchief that had wrapped it into the bucket. After thoroughly soaking it, she began using the cloth to wipe her cheeks, neck, and arms.

The shock of the ice-cold well water caused goosebumps to rise all over her arms. Without saying a word, she kept wetting and wringing out the handkerchief, wiping her body over and over until every exposed part was clean and free of any lingering odor. Only then did she hesitate, glance around left and right, and ask softly:

“Who’s there?”

No one answered. Strangely, she actually felt relieved.

Her fingers slowly moved toward her waistband. Just as Wei Yingluo was about to untie her clothes to wipe the rest of her body, a hand suddenly reached out from behind and landed on her shoulder.

Wei Yingluo was greatly startled and was about to struggle free when a familiar voice sounded beside her ear:

“It’s me.”

Wei Yingluo froze for a moment, then turned her head and asked, “Why are you here?”

Clouds parted, the moon emerged, and shadows danced among the flowers. Fuheng’s face appeared faintly under the moonlight—still as extraordinarily handsome as ever, like an immortal who had descended to the mortal world. It only made Wei Yingluo, covered in dust and grime at this moment, look all the more disheveled by comparison.

Yet despite the vast gulf between them now, the way he looked at her remained exactly the same—filled with pity and deep love.

“Come with me.” He reached down and pulled Wei Yingluo up from the ground in one motion. “I’ll take you to the Yangxin Hall to see the Emperor. I’ll ask him to issue an edict and grant us marriage immediately!”

Fuheng had only taken two steps when he suddenly stopped—because Wei Yingluo had already shaken off his hand. She retreated while shaking her head at him. “I’m not going. The Emperor already said that if I ever come near you again, even half a step, he would kill me to vent his anger. Do you really think I would disregard my own life for your sake?”

“I won’t let him harm you.” Fuheng gazed at her earnestly, every word coming straight from the heart. Even if it meant defying an imperial decree, he would have no regrets.

Wei Yingluo’s heart ached fiercely. She took another step back, putting more distance between them, and deliberately hardened her voice. “And then what? You would anger the Emperor and be punished. I refuse to become the wife of a criminal and live the rest of my life unable to raise my head!”

Fuheng looked at her steadily for a long moment, then stepped toward her. “Yingluo, both you and I know that what you’re saying right now is false. Why keep saying it?”

“I…” Wei Yingluo was caught by both arms and had no choice but to lift her head to meet his eyes.

Words can lie, but eyes cannot.

“Or are you saying that in your heart, I; Fuheng is such a fool that I can’t even see your true feelings?” Fuheng gave a tender, pained smile. “You could use me so easily—you could get out of this wretched place in an instant if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You’ve been avoiding me, hiding from me, afraid of dragging my future down with you. If you’re willing to humble yourself and suffer for my sake, then how can I not be willing to give up this so-called ‘future’ for you?”

Wei Yingluo stared at him—stared at his deep affection, and also at his ideals.

The room full of military books, the bright gleam in his eyes whenever he spoke of leading troops into battle and achieving glory on the battlefield—how could she ever forget that?

“…Why ruin everything for the sake of one woman and anger the Emperor?” Wei Yingluo lowered her head and said softly, “If you lose his favor, how will you ever go to the battlefield? How will you fulfill your dream of winning honor and merit on horseback?”

She didn’t dare look up at him, afraid her own eyes would betray her heart again.

After a long silence, Fuheng’s voice finally sounded once more—calm, so calm it was like the still surface of the sea hiding a whirlpool beneath.

“Wei Yingluo, you are someone who distinguishes clearly between kindness and enmity. You were the one who deliberately approached me first, who intentionally seduced me afterward. I couldn’t guard against it and fell completely into your trap. Now you say you’ll let go just like that—but the feelings you took from me, the heart you took from me, how are you going to return them?”

Wei Yingluo was ice-smart; the moment she heard those words, she already knew what he would say next.

“If you can’t return them, then use the rest of your life to repay me.”

Wei Yingluo clenched her teeth. Her slightly trembling fingers moved to her waist. After a brief hesitation, she resolutely pulled open her sash.

With a soft rustle, under Fuheng’s stunned gaze, her gray-blue palace maid’s upper garment slipped gently to the grass.

A graceful, slender figure was reflected in his pupils, bathed in moonlight, like a jade statue come to life.

“…I’m returning it to you.” Wei Yingluo hugged her arms across her chest and said softly, “I’m giving you this body.”

Her body trembled faintly in the night wind, like a prisoner awaiting execution—every second an unbearable torment.

At last, she received his answer.

A robe was gently draped over her, once again covering the body she had offered.

“Don’t do this.” Fuheng pulled her into his arms, his voice filled with pain. “You know what I want… it’s not this.”

Wei Yingluo’s eyes instantly grew hot; tears nearly fell right then and there.

“This body will belong to me sooner or later—but not now, and not in this way.” Fuheng tenderly kissed her temple. “I won’t force you anymore. Since you don’t want to come with me, then I’ll wait. I’ll wait until you come out of the Laundry Cleaning Department. I’ll wait until the day you’re finally willing to accept me.”

His words were filled with reluctance, yet in the end he still loosened his unwilling fingers and let her go.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 74: Xinzheku – the Forced Labor Department for Convicted Palace Women

The rain had stopped for three days. Dowager Consort Yu had been gone for three days.

But that did not mean the matter had blown over.

“Yingluo!” The Empress’s face was extremely stern. “Kneel!”

Thump. Wei Yingluo dropped to her knees before her.

The room contained only the two of them; everyone else had been dismissed by the Empress on various pretexts. The Empress sat in her chair, looking down at her for a long time before speaking slowly: “On the day of the incident at Shoukang Palace—what exactly did you do?”

Wei Yingluo had her answer ready: “This servant heard that Dowager Consort Yu was the one who murdered my sister, so I deliberately confronted her with two questions. The Dowager Consort swore an oath that she was not the killer—otherwise may heaven strike her with lightning. The moment she finished speaking, a bolt of thunder struck her dead…”

“Enough!” The Empress slammed her hand on the table and stood up, her voice sharp. “Even in front of this palace, you still refuse to tell the truth?”

A strange glint flashed through Wei Yingluo’s eyes.

“From now on, keep your tail between your legs and behave. If you ever cross me again, I won’t just take your head—I’ll make the entire Wei clan accompany you in death.” —Dowager Consort Yu’s threat echoed once again in her ears.

What happened after that?

She returned to Changchun Palace and took the silver needle that Erqing handed her.

The silver needle sank to the bottom of the water again and again. In her ears rang Ming Yu’s mocking laughter: “And here I thought she was the most outstanding embroiderer from the embroidery workshop—turns out she’s no better than me.”

Those words struck her like a bucket of cold water, suddenly clearing her mind and making her eyes light up.

That very night, she returned to the embroidery workshop and sought out Momo-Zhang, who had always treated her with special care.

“Momo.” Her clear black-and-white eyes gazed at the older woman with utmost calm. “I’ve heard that Shoukang Palace has been preparing for the longevity banquet for a long time. The canopy and window gauze for that… should have been supplied by our embroidery workshop, right?”

Momo-Zhang regarded her like her own niece or daughter. Without even asking the reason, she handed over the window gauze that had already been prepared for delivery to Shoukang Palace. Wei Yingluo did not hide anything from her. Right in front of Momo-Zhang, she took from the small pouch she always carried on her person a handful of extremely fine, soft iron wire and carefully sewed it into the gauze.

If Momo-Zhang had spoken to stop her, she would have halted immediately. But from beginning to end, Momo-Zhang did not say a single word—she silently acquiesced to Wei Yingluo’s revenge, and could even be said to have become her accomplice.

Wei Yingluo said nothing either. She placed the now-finished gauze back into Momo-Zhang’s hands, then knelt down without a word and kowtowed three resounding times.

“Momo, thank you. And… I will never implicate you. This matter will stay buried in my heart forever. No matter who asks, I will not speak a word. If in the end it is unfortunately exposed, I will bear all responsibility alone!”

Wei Yingluo slowly raised her head and looked at the Empress before her.

Though filled with guilt, in order not to drag Momo-Zhang down with her, she still forced herself to harden her heart and say: “Your Majesty, this servant truly knows nothing about this matter. It was simply that Dowager Consort Yu committed so many evil deeds that in the end retribution caught up with her…”

“Enough!” The Empress raised her hand, cutting off the lies she was about to continue telling.

Seeing the Empress’s body sway and collapse back into the chair as if her soul had left her, Wei Yingluo was filled with extreme worry. She crawled over and said, “Your Majesty, you are with child now. Please take care of your health—do not get angry because of me…”

The Empress rubbed her temples, closed her eyes to rest for a moment in the chair, then slowly opened them again. Exhaustion permeated both her gaze and her voice as she said faintly, “Wei Yingluo, I know you harbor deep resentment and have been waiting for an opportunity for revenge. That is why I have tried every possible way to persuade and guide you. I never expected you to be so stubborn and unrepentant! Do you think you have several heads to spare, or do you rely on my usual indulgence to act so fearlessly and commit murder?”

Wei Yingluo was stunned. “Your Majesty…”

“Enough. I do not want to hear any more of your sophistry.” The Empress waved her hand. “Though Changchun Palace is large, it can no longer accommodate a servant as audacious as you. From today onward, you will go to the Cleansing Department to reflect on your faults in solitude!”

“Your Majesty… you are driving me away?” Wei Yingluo was shocked and terrified. She was not afraid of the hard labor in the Cleansing Department—or rather, even before she had plotted against Dowager Consort Yu, she had already prepared herself to be punished. But the time to leave was not now. She hurriedly crawled to the Empress’s feet, hugged her knees, and pleaded, “Your Majesty, you are currently with child. The entire palace is watching with tiger-like eyes. Please allow this servant to remain until you have safely given birth! As soon as you deliver a little prince, this servant will leave immediately and never again be an eyesore to you!”

“No.” The Empress shook her head decisively. “Pack your things and leave right now!”

Wei Yingluo begged again and again, but the Empress closed her eyes and her ears—she neither heard nor saw. Seeing that her mind was made up, Wei Yingluo could only sniffle, her voice choking as she said, “Your Majesty is right. I truly love causing trouble and does not dare hope to remain. But this servant has received Your Majesty’s great kindness in this lifetime and will never forget it. If one day Your Majesty has need of Yingluo, I am willing to offer my liver and brains, to repay you with my life and death!”

She kowtowed three resounding times to the Empress, then left Changchun Palace, looking back three times with every step.

She did not have many possessions to begin with. Moreover, in a place like the Cleansing Department, valuable items could not be brought in—and even if they were, they would quickly cease to belong to her. So she simply left behind all the silks, satins, and hairpins the Empress had bestowed upon her, distributing them among the few young palace maids with whom she had gotten along well.

A simple blue cloth bundle. Wei Yingluo sighed, hugged the bundle to her chest, and walked out the door. She hadn’t gone far when she heard hurried footsteps approaching rapidly from the distance.

“Hurry and go!” Erqing rushed in and said, “His Majesty is coming—he’s preparing to arrest you. The Empress wants you to leave through the back gate right now and report immediately to the Cleansing Department!”

Wei Yingluo froze for a moment, then her eyes grew hot with emotion.

She never underestimated anyone, yet she still hadn’t expected things to be exposed so quickly.

But in the end, she had underestimated one person… She had underestimated the depth of the Empress’s affection and protection toward her.

The Empress wasn’t expelling her from the palace merely to avoid trouble for Changchun Palace. Clearly, she had already anticipated that the Emperor would come to arrest her and had preemptively punished her by sending her to the Cleansing Department. Hard labor was grueling, yes—but it would shield her from the Emperor’s wrath and interrogation.

“Your Ladyship…” Wei Yingluo murmured, gazing in the direction of Changchun Palace.

“Aiya, what are you waiting for? Go quickly!” Erqing urged in her ear.

Wei Yingluo gritted her teeth. Not daring to let the Empress’s kindness go to waste, she etched that kindness deeply into her heart. Then she hugged the bundle tightly to her chest and hurried out through the back gate.

Leaving Changchun Palace and stepping into the Yong Alley felt like walking from spring straight into winter.

Even though it was summer, a bone-chilling wind swept through the alley. The towering gray walls on both sides resembled the iron bars of a prison, locking sinners firmly in this bleak and desolate place.

The one who greeted Wei Yingluo was a gray-robed Momo surnamed Liu. She looked Wei Yingluo up and down, her voice as cold and desolate as the Yong Alley itself: “You used to be a senior palace maid by the Empress’s side—wherever you went, people showed you respect. But once you enter the Cleansing Department, forget your former status. Here, you are nothing but a criminal assigned to the lowest, most menial labor.”

“Yes.” A powerful dragon does not suppress a snake in its own territory. Wei Yingluo responded obediently.

“The Cleansing Department has its divisions of labor. We are mainly responsible for the most despised heavy chores in the Inner Palace—whatever others refuse to do, you people must do! Rise at cockcrow to sweep the palace paths. At the hour of Chou, weed the three main halls. From dawn till deep into the night, undertake all the heavy miscellaneous tasks for every palace. As for you—” Momo Liu led her into a room and pointed to the mountain-high pile of night-soil buckets stacked in the corner. “You will start by cleaning these night-soil buckets.”

Wei Yingluo stared at the buckets in stunned silence.

Back in Changchun Palace, she had spent her days surrounded by orchids. Even when there was dirty or tiring work, the Empress had never been willing to let her do it. Now, banished to the Cleansing Department, though she had mentally prepared herself, the sight of those buckets—stained with filth, faintly yellowed—and the acrid, choking stench still made her stomach churn uncontrollably.

Seeing the awful look on her face, Momo Liu’s lips curled into a cold smirk. “Hurry up and wash them. If they’re not finished by evening, you’ll have to eat your dinner right here.”

Suppressing the urge to vomit, Wei Yingluo said in a low voice, “…Yes.”

And so, the hands that had once sewn phoenix robes for the Empress now lifted night-soil buckets. The fingers that had once arranged flowers were now stained with the foul reek of excrement. Though she tried her utmost, evening arrived too quickly. Wei Yingluo still hadn’t finished the task at hand. When Momo Liu handed her a single yellowish steamed bun, Wei Yingluo—exhausted after a full day’s labor—found she had no appetite at all.

After washing her hands more than ten times, she wrapped the bun in a handkerchief, then staggered back to the palace maids’ quarters. The Cleansing Department had no proper beds; the living conditions were even worse than the maids’ dormitory when she had first entered the palace. It was just one large communal sleeping platform—everyone slept on the floor.

When she had come to drop off her belongings that morning, the room had been empty; everyone was out working. Now they were returning one after another. Among them was someone Wei Yingluo actually knew.

“Well, well—if it isn’t Wei Yingluo?” A mocking, feminine voice rang out, sharp with malice. “The great favorite by the Empress’s side, the most dignified figure in the Forbidden City—how is it that in the blink of an eye you’ve fallen to a place like this?”

Wei Yingluo paused mid-step and turned her head.

A sharp chin, peach-blossom eyes, an air of coquettish charm rising from her feet to her face—it was none other than Jinxiu, the former embroiderer from the Embroidery Workshop who had been banished to the Cleansing Department after falsely accusing Wei Yingluo of having an improper relationship with a guard.

Wei Yingluo had no energy to argue with her—or perhaps she was simply too exhausted. She gave the other woman a cold glance, then walked to her own sleeping spot and lay down. Her fingers, trembling and cramping from overwork, reached into her bosom and pulled out the handkerchief-wrapped steamed bun.

“I have to eat something,” she told herself silently. “Otherwise tomorrow will be unbearable.”

The sound of splashing water rang in her ears. She glanced over and saw a night-soil bucket placed not far from her head. A palace maid, holding up her skirt, stood up; a few drops dripped from beneath her skirt and fell into the bucket.

A hot, pungent, foul odor drifted over. Wei Yingluo turned over. Several times she brought the steamed bun to her mouth, but she simply couldn’t force herself to bite into it. In the end she had no choice but to wrap the bun back in her handkerchief, then pull the bedding tightly over her nose and mouth.

Even so, she still couldn’t block out the stench from the night-soil bucket, nor the foot odor and armpit smell coming from who-knows-where.

“This won’t do.” After tossing and turning for a long time, Wei Yingluo finally couldn’t sleep anymore. She opened her eyes, stared at the ceiling, and murmured, “I have to think of a way…”

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