Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 183: Elopement

   The wild wind tousled the flowers; the moon floated over hills and valleys. Fuheng sat alone at his desk. Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling upon the ruby gardenia earring resting in the palm of his hand.

The gem shimmered with flowing light, much like her eyes—quietly gazing at him in silent depth.

In his ears echoed the words Chenbi had spoken that morning: “Tomorrow, the Empress Dowager will go to the Medicine King Temple to offer incense. Most of the guards will be reassigned away from the palace, leaving the security lax. That will be the only opportunity. If you truly intend to elope with her and fly far away, prepare a carriage and wait for her outside Xizhi Gate…”

He sighed, as though finally making up his mind, and gripped the earring tightly in his hand.

By a strange coincidence, in Yanxi Palace, Wei Yingluo lay on the cold bed and slowly opened her palm. In the center of her hand rested the same gardenia-red ruby earring.

In her ears, too, rang the words Chenbi had said that morning: “The Cangzhen Gate near Yanxi Palace is the route the water carts pass every day. That is your only chance.”

After tossing and turning for a long time, Wei Yingluo finally sighed, sat up on the bed.

Was it her imagination? The night seemed unusually quiet.

Yuan Chunwang was absent, and even Xiaoquanzi was nowhere to be seen. Wei Yingluo sat on the bed for a moment, then quietly got down, tiptoed to the door, and cautiously pushed it.

Creak—

The door opened. A sliver of moonlight slipped through the crack and fell across her face.

…Even the night-watch eunuch was gone. Where had everyone disappeared to?

Whether they had gone to relieve themselves or sneaked off to sleep, this seemed to be Wei Yingluo’s perfect—and only—opportunity.

One embroidered shoe stepped out from behind the door.

Then she walked all the way from the sleeping chamber into the rear courtyard.

In the courtyard stood rockeries, strange stones, exotic flowers, and rare plants—yet one thing looked completely out of place: a large water barrel.

Wei Yingluo had no idea where the barrel had come from, just as she had no idea where the night-watch eunuchs had gone.

“Most likely Chenbi’s doing,” she murmured to herself. Then she walked to the barrel, lifted the lid, and peered inside…

The next day was the day the Empress Dowager would leave the palace to pay respects to the Buddha.

   Silk and bamboo music floated sweetly through the air; the qin sounded like a gentle lament. Inside Baoyue Tower, Chenbi danced to the rhythm. As she bent her waist in a graceful turn, her gaze flicked toward Hongli. He sat with one hand propping his cheek, clearly distracted—his eyes were on her, but his mind had wandered somewhere far away.

“Ah!”

Hongli snapped back to reality and hurried over to help Chenbi up from where she had fallen: “How could you be so careless? Li Yu, summon the imperial physician at once!”

Li Yu responded with a quick “Yes!” and hurried away.

“How can you be so absent-minded even while dancing?” Hongli scooped Chenbi into his arms and carried her to the couch. “Later we have to accompany the Empress Dowager to the Medicine King Temple. If you injure your foot, you won’t be going anywhere—you’ll just have to stay here in Baoyue Tower and stare into space.”

Seeing the anxious look on Chenbi’s face, he suddenly smiled and playfully tapped the tip of her nose.

“I’ll stay behind too,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll keep you company while you daydream. How about that?”

Chenbi stared at him blankly for a moment. Then she suddenly rolled off the couch, knelt before him, and said through streaming tears: “Your Majesty, there is something I have kept hidden in my heart for a very long time. I never dared to report it. But you have treated me so kindly—if I don’t tell you the truth now, I truly cannot bear it!”

Hongli was taken aback: “What is it you want to say?”

Chenbi pressed her lips together, as though waging an intense internal struggle. Finally, gritting her teeth, she said: “Your Majesty, Yingluo, she…”

The candle flame burned steadily on the table, yet it brought no warmth at all.

When Li Yu rushed back with the imperial physician, what greeted them was Hongli’s face as cold as frost. In an instant, the entire Baoyue Tower seemed to plunge into winter; every person present shivered uncontrollably from the chill.

“Your Majesty!” Chenbi suddenly cried out, then limped after him. “Where are you going? You… you promised this consort you wouldn’t make things difficult for Yingluo!”

But how could Hongli listen to her? He strode out quickly and headed straight for Yanxi Palace.

   Inside Yanxi Palace, the place was already deserted—people gone, building empty.

Looking at the bare, vacant bed before him, Hongli suddenly spoke: “Li Yu.”

“This servant is here!” Li Yu hurried forward.

“Transmit my decree,” Hongli said coldly. “Seal the Shenwu Gate.”

Li Yu was stunned. “Today the Empress Dowager is going to the Medicine King Temple. If we seal the gate now, it will inevitably alarm Her Majesty—”

Hongli: “Seal it!”

Li Yu knelt. “As you command!”

A donkey cart, driven by two young eunuchs, slowly approached the Shenwu Gate.

Several water buckets on the cart were covered with a large tarpaulin. The buckets were all identical in style—exactly the same as the ones used in Wei Yingluo’s courtyard.

One of the young eunuchs yawned. “We have to go fetch water from Yuquan Mountain at the third watch every day. Walking all the way to the Forbidden City is enough to wear a person stupid with exhaustion! What’s the difference between the palace wells and Yuquan Mountain water? Isn’t it all just water?”

The other young eunuch elbowed him, signaling him to watch his words.

The first eunuch pursed his lips. “Yes, yes, I know—the water for His Majesty and the Empress Dowager must of course be the best water in the world! Yuquan water is sweet and pure—how could any ordinary well compare?”

As the two chattered, the front wheel of the donkey cart passed through the gate.

Clop-clop-clop—the sound of hooves grew louder from the distance. Li Yu, mounted on a tall horse, pointed at the donkey cart from afar: “By His Majesty’s oral decree—seal the Shenwu Gate! Quick—stop that donkey cart!”

Even if the guards didn’t recognize him personally, they recognized his robes—he was clearly a high-ranking eunuch from the palace. Moreover, he was followed by so many imperial guards.

The upright spears immediately crossed in front, blocking the donkey cart’s path. The two young eunuchs stood frozen in panic before the cart, trembling with fear.

Li Yu dismounted. Beside him stood Yuan Chunwang. Yuan Chunwang strode quickly to the side of the donkey cart. His narrow phoenix eyes flicked toward the half-man-high water bucket on top, and he sneered coldly: “Palace treasures have been stolen and are suspected to be hidden in the water cart. Come—arrest them all and take them back!”

And so, under the watchful eyes of a grand procession, the donkey cart was escorted all the way to the front of Yangxin Hall.

Hongli was already waiting there.

Yuan Chunwang bowed respectfully. “Your Majesty, the water cart has been fully recovered.”

Hongli’s hands shook with rage. He struggled to keep his voice calm: “Li Yu!”

Li Yu waved his hand.

A faint smile curled at the corner of Yuan Chunwang’s mouth. He led the crowd away, leaving only Hongli, Chenbi, Li Yu, and the four trusted guards who had escorted the water cart.

“Your Majesty.” Chenbi clung to his arm, pleading tearfully. “Yingluo has always been proud and unyielding—how could she endure the desolate chill of Yanxi Palace? Those cries of anguish were only begging me to save her life! I truly couldn’t bear it, and since I also owe Lord Fucha a debt for saving my life, I agreed to help the two of them elope.”

She had such a talent for twisting black into white with just a few words.

“I was wrong, and Yingluo was wrong too.” Tears streamed down her face, her expression innocent and lovely, yet her words seemed spoken entirely for the sake of others. “Please, for the sake of past affection, spare her life—will you?”

But hearing her words only made Hongli angrier. He flung Chenbi’s arm away, strode to the donkey cart, reached out, and seized the tarpaulin—yet for a long moment, he could not bring himself to lift it.

Li Yu said nervously, “Your Majesty?”

Every one of his fingers was trembling. Hongli took a deep breath: “Come here!”

Li Yu: “Yes.”

Hongli stepped back half a pace and closed his eyes.

Under everyone’s watchful gaze, Li Yu yanked off the covering cloth and was about to lift the lid of the water barrel when, unexpectedly, the barrel swayed twice and then rolled off the cart with a thunderous crash.

The barrel rolled several times on the ground, the lid popped open, and a person tumbled out from inside.

“You… you…” Li Yu pointed at the other person, unable to utter a complete sentence for a long while.

Hongli had kept his eyes tightly shut, unable to bear watching—until now. Only then did he slowly open them. When he clearly saw the face of the person who had emerged, he was stunned and blurted out: “How could it be you—”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 182: Convenient for Action

   Chenbi was an utterly enigmatic person.

The words that came out of her mouth were half true, half false—and until the very last moment, no one could tell which sentence was true and which was false.

Fuheng could not distinguish truth from lies in her words, so he simply… believed none of them.

“Desheng.” Fuheng hurried to the outside of Yangxin Hall. “Please report for me—I wish to see the Emperor!”

Before Desheng could reply, a string of tiny bell-like sounds rang out behind Fuheng.

In the inner palace, the only person whose footsteps produced such a sound while walking was almost certainly one individual.

“Master Fucha in such a hurry—what is the matter?” Chenbi approached with her tinkling steps, a bright smile on her face. Then, with a gentle smile as she entered the inner courtyard: “Desheng, please also report that I have something to discuss with His Majesty.”

Desheng acknowledged with a “Yes” and turned to enter Yangxin Hall.

Outside the door, Chenbi tilted her head and glanced at Fuheng’s face, giving a mocking smile: “It seems Master Fucha your reason has triumphed over emotion after all. Even if it means watching her die with your own eyes, you still choose to remain loyal to your master.”

Fuheng turned his back, unwilling to engage with her. But the next moment, Chenbi circled around to stand in front of him. She raised her hand, and a ruby gardenia earring dangled before his eyes, its scattered flecks of light melting into his pupils.

Chenbi held the earring and smiled at him: “She agreed.”

Just those two words struck like lightning and thunder in Fuheng’s ears, numbing his scalp. In that instant, his hearing, vision, and even his ability to speak all vanished.

She forcefully pressed the right-ear earring she had obtained from Wei Yingluo into his hand. Chenbi’s voice dropped low: “Master Fucha Fuheng, you failed her once already—are you going to fail her a second time?”

Fuheng lowered his head to look at the earring in his palm, as though he were looking at a heart that had been brutally ripped from his chest. He remained silent for a long time.

“Consort Rong.” The door suddenly opened. Desheng came out from inside and addressed the two of them: “His Majesty says he has matters to attend to. Please return to Baoyue Tower, Your Ladyship. He will have time at noon and will certainly come to see you. Master Fucha, please come in.”

Fuheng gave Chenbi a deep look, then turned and entered Yangxin Hall.

Behind him, Yizhu seemed somewhat uneasy and lowered her voice to ask Chenbi: “My lady, will he tell anyone?”

“Fame, wealth, power, and status—he has it all, yet he’s still not happy.” Chenbi’s steps were light and sprightly, like those of a young deer. The bright sunlight shone on her face as she smiled with contentment. “So in this world, the only one who can make him happy… is a single person.”

Inside Yangxin Hall.

   Fuheng paid his respects and said, “Your Majesty, this servant has come regarding the military report from the Huolan tribe.”

“I already know about this matter,” Hongli replied. “I have dispatched Hailancha with troops to assist General Zhaohui in suppressing the rebellion. Is there anything else?”

Fuheng: “Since Your Majesty has already made proper arrangements, naturally there is nothing else.”

Hongli: “Then you may withdraw.”

Hongli watched Fuheng’s departing figure with a thoughtful expression. Suddenly he asked, “Hailancha, how is Fuheng’s memory?”

Hailancha: “He never forgets anything he has seen.”

“A man with a photographic memory, yet he forgot that he already presented the memorial last night?” Hongli stroked the stack of memorials on the table. The top one was precisely the military report from the Huolan tribe, submitted by Fuheng. After a moment of reflection, Hongli suddenly issued an order: “Hailancha, there is another important task. I want you to handle it personally!”

A single rider galloped out through Shenwu Gate, Hailancha on horseback, vanishing in a cloud of dust.

Inside Yangxin Hall, Hongli held a book in one hand while the other was clasped behind his back. He stood beside the curio shelf, yet the book in his hand remained unturned for a long time—he seemed distracted and restless.

“Your Majesty.” Li Yu came in to report. “Yanxi Palace has summoned an imperial physician.”

Hongli, with his back to him, said coldly, “When did I ever instruct you to monitor news from Yanxi Palace? Acting on your own initiative!”

Li Yu: “This servant knows his crime.”

He stood in the room for a long while, yet Hongli’s book still had not turned a single page.

“…What illness?” Hongli suddenly asked out of the blue.

Li Yu snapped back to attention and hurriedly replied, “Consort Ling has long been vegetarian, eats irregularly, and has developed a stomach ailment as a result. The Imperial Medical Bureau has prescribed medicine and instructed that she take plain congee daily to nourish the stomach and recover gradually.”

Seeing that it was nothing serious, Hongli finally turned a page in his book and said coldly, “A calamity endures for a thousand years—I knew she wouldn’t die so easily!”

He never mentioned Wei Yingluo again, nor did he go to Yanxi Palace to see her. It appeared he no longer cared about her at all.

But his indifference did not mean others were indifferent.

In Chengqian Palace, Zhener was reporting to the Step-Empress: “Your Ladyship, Consort Rong went to Yanxi Palace today. Yet after she left, Consort Ling is still perfectly alive and well.”

The Step-Empress was brewing tea. The water boiled, steam rising like mist—mist that looked like flowers, like leaves, like birds, like fish. One didn’t even need to drink the tea; merely watching it was already a pleasure.

There were still many days ahead. The Step-Empress knew her own limitations—she could not captivate with beauty alone, so she had to attract Hongli in other ways. There was much to learn, and the art of tea was one of them.

But the future was for the future; what needed to be done now still had to be done promptly.

“So that’s how it is.” The Step-Empress began to smile.

Zhener was puzzled. “What are you smiling about, Your Ladyship?”

The Step-Empress laughed softly. “If I can borrow a knife to kill, naturally Consort Rong can do the same.”

While Zhener was still bewildered, Yuan Chunwang entered from outside, leaned close to the Step-Empress’s ear, and whispered a few words. The Step-Empress immediately laughed again: “See? Here it comes… Yuan Chunwang, you know what to do, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Yuan Chunwang bowed his head respectfully. “When the time comes, this servant will withdraw all personnel from Yanxi Palace, making it convenient for Consort Rong to act.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 181: True Heart

   “What is this?” Chenbi opened the sachet in front of her and took out a dried gardenia flower.

Yizhu said, “Your Ladyship, this is a token that someone from Yanxi Palace sent to Yangxin Hall. This servant intercepted it on the way. That lowly woman is counting on His Majesty changing his mind. You must guard against her!”

Chenbi toyed with the gardenia flower, smiling with amusement.

Yizhu pressed: “If you don’t cut the grass at the root, trouble will return in the future. My lady, it’s time to make up your mind!”

Chenbi: “Everyone thinks I want to kill Consort Ling—even you believe that?”

Yizhu froze.

“Besides, it’s still uncertain whether this thing really came from Yanxi Palace.” Chenbi twirled the gardenia flower in her fingers, but her gaze passed through the window lattice, looking toward the direction of Yanxi Palace.

The gardenias of Yanxi Palace had bloomed and fallen. Once proudly at the top of the branches, today they were crushed into the dust.

Wei Yingluo no longer had the strength even to stand. With longing eyes she stared at the teapot on the table. Forcing herself up, her body tumbled off the bed. Bit by bit she crawled across the floor, finally managing to climb up to the table and desperately clutch the teapot to her chest.

She lifted the lid—only to find it empty.

From that moment, Wei Yingluo had no strength left. She lay sprawled on the ground like the dead, not making the slightest sound.

After an unknown amount of time, a pair of hands helped her up and brought a cup of clear water to her lips. Her lips were already cracked and dry; the moment they touched the water, it was like parched fields meeting sweet rain—she drained the entire cup in an instant.

“Feeling a little better?” a familiar voice sounded beside her ear.

Wei Yingluo recognized that voice. She slowly opened her eyes: “…What are you here for?”

Crouching in front of her was none other than Chenbi—the very woman who had driven her to this state—yet her face still wore that innocent, guileless expression: “I came to help you.”

Wei Yingluo found it utterly laughable: “Help me? You just came to see how miserable I’ve become, didn’t you?”

“Place someone in a position of certain death, and then they will survive.” Chenbi looked at her with utmost seriousness. “If I don’t push you to the absolute limit, how could you ever be willing to give up the life you have now?”

Wei Yingluo gazed at her suspiciously.

“Isn’t that true?” Chenbi helped her back onto the bed. Seeing that she couldn’t even sit steadily, she thoughtfully placed a bolster pillow behind her back and spoke in a gentle voice. “The Forbidden City is full of fame, profit, and riches, but all of it is nothing more than fleeting clouds and smoke—including the Emperor’s favor. He seems to cherish you greatly, yet with just a little scheme on my part, he immediately began to suspect and dislike you. This shows that in his heart, you are merely a plaything—something that can be replaced by a better one at any moment.”

Wei Yingluo’s face turned pale at her words. Though she wanted to refute them, for a moment she couldn’t find anything to say.

She hadn’t touched a drop of water or a single grain of rice. She had endured torment until now, yet he hadn’t come to see her even once. Did he truly still have her in his heart?

“Yingluo, everything I’ve done has been to help you—to help you see clearly the reality of the Forbidden City and the Emperor of the Great Qing.” Chenbi moistened a handkerchief with water and placed it on her burning forehead. “He is a hypocritical, selfish, and heartless man. He is not worth wasting your entire life on.”

Wei Yingluo slapped her hand away and said coldly, “What exactly do you want?”

“I want to repay a kindness.” Chenbi looked at her with sincere devotion, like a devout believer confessing her wish to a Buddha. “To repay the grace you showed in protecting me, and also to repay Lord Fucha for saving my life.”

Wei Yingluo was stunned. She had no idea why the name Fuheng would suddenly come out of her mouth.

“On my way to the capital, I once fell off a cliff. If not for Lord Fucha, I would already be nothing but dry bones by now,” Chenbi said. “He is a good man—young, handsome, gentle, and considerate. I have always wanted to repay him, but I didn’t know how—until I discovered that he loves you.”

Wei Yingluo: “That’s all in the past!”

Chenbi: “But his love for you has never changed!”

Her resolute and certain manner made Wei Yingluo suspect that she had already met with Fuheng. Fuheng, oh Fuheng—do you even know what kind of woman is standing before you? Cooperating with her is no different from bargaining with a tiger.

   “You still don’t trust me—is it because of Ming Yu?” Chenbi carefully observed her expression and sighed. “Even now, I have no regrets. I’m glad she’s dead—because now you have one less burden… Yingluo, a person cannot always be bound by obligations and gratitude. You should think more about yourself.”

With that, she held out a dried gardenia flower to Wei Yingluo.

“Someone sent a dried gardenia flower to Yangxin Hall in your name, but it ended up in my hands,” Chenbi said. “Guess who that person might be?”

Who else could it be? Wei Yingluo answered firmly: “The Empress.”

This was yet another of the Step-Empress’s usual tricks.

When she wanted to harm someone, she would never dirty her own hands. Instead, she would use every possible means to incite others to act.

In the end, no matter who won or lost, the Step-Empress’s ten fingers would remain spotlessly clean—not a trace of blood on them.

This time was no different. The Step-Empress had someone send a withered gardenia flower to Yangxin Hall under Wei Yingluo’s name, but deliberately arranged for people from Baoyue Tower to intercept it along the way.

If Chenbi truly had ambitions to compete for favor, she might very well have taken the discarded pearl’s suggestion, kept the flower hidden, and then used Wei Yingluo’s illness as an opportunity to take her life.

—Wasn’t Consort Chun back then ensnared by a similar plot, and then acted on the Step-Empress’s behalf to harm the previous Empress?

But this time, something unexpected happened.

Or rather, neither Wei Yingluo nor the Step-Empress had truly seen what kind of person Chenbi really was.

She could never have anticipated that Chenbi would go straight to Wei Yingluo, openly presenting the withered gardenia flower along with her own suspicions:

“Yes, it was the Empress. She wanted to use my hand to completely end your life. But even without me, she can still borrow someone else’s hand. If you don’t leave now, you will surely die in the Forbidden City!”

Chenbi was not exaggerating.

Right now was the perfect moment to deal with Wei Yingluo.

One could say: once this village is passed, there will never be such a shop again. Having learned this harsh lesson, Wei Yingluo will surely raise her guard against the Step-Empress, against Chenbi, and against everyone around her. She will never again trust people lightly, nor will she ever allow herself to fall into such a desperate situation again.

   It will also be difficult for others to deal with her now—because Wei Yingluo no longer has any weaknesses. The only weakness she once had, Ming Yu, is already gone.

   The person who will stand before everyone from now on will be a flawless Wei Yingluo: one without weaknesses, with a heart of stone, perfect and unassailable.

   “…Even if I wanted to leave, could I actually get out?” For example, right now Wei Yingluo had no intention of paying the other person any real attention. She replied perfunctorily, “Once you enter the palace gates, it’s as deep as the sea. Do you really have some way?”

“I do,” Chenbi unexpectedly answered. “I have a way to help you escape.”

Wei Yingluo looked straight at her, as if trying to peer through that beautiful face to see clearly the heart beneath.

“Yingluo, I was sent to the Emperor like tribute. I lost my flesh-and-blood kin, lost my personal freedom. Every time I look in the mirror and see myself in these Manchu robes, the pain is unbearable! I cannot leave… because I carry on my shoulders the hopes of my clan for peace. I can only remain here until my flesh rots and my bones turn to ashes.” Suddenly Chenbi grasped her hand. “But you are different. You still have a chance!”

The way she looked at Wei Yingluo was exactly the same way Wei Yingluo had once looked at Ming Yu.

Forcing one’s own dreams onto another person, earnestly hoping, longing for you to achieve the happiness in my place.

Wei Yingluo was stunned into silence.

“Promise me—leave.” Chenbi stroked her cheek, her voice soft and bewitching like an enchantment. “Leave before this monstrous purple forbidden city completely swallows you whole…”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 180: Regret

   Yuan Chunwang summoned all the palace maids and eunuchs serving in Changchun Palace to one place and ordered:

“From this day forward, no one is to deliver meals to Consort Ling!”

His gaze swept across the crowd before he finally raised his hand and pointed at one person:

“Everything concerning Yanxi Palace will now be handled by you!”

“Yes!” Xiaoquanzi replied meekly with lowered eyes.

After dismissing the others, Yuan Chunwang kept him behind to speak privately.

Yuan Chunwang said calmly, “In the past you constantly opposed me. Do you know why I’m giving you this chance now?”

Xiaoquanzi knelt before him, head bowed submissively, and answered:

“Because this servant betrayed Consort Ling. If she lives well, there will never be any good days left for this servant.”

Yuan Chunwang patted him on the shoulder and said earnestly, “I don’t want to hear a single word of gossip or rumor.”

In his eyes—and in the eyes of others—Xiaoquanzi had once again betrayed his former master.

This man had always been like this: constantly betraying old masters and pledging allegiance to new ones. Precisely because of that, Yuan Chunwang dared to use him. At the very least, until a better master appeared, he was the most useful dog available.

Though he used him, he never fully trusted him. Occasionally Yuan Chunwang would secretly observe him at work. For example, today he hid quietly by the doorway. Inside, Xiaoquanzi set down a bowl of extremely thin, clear-as-water congee with a sharp clack.

Wei Yingluo was startled. “It’s you?”

Xiaoquanzi remained expressionless. “Time to eat.”

Wei Yingluo glanced down at the congee and said coldly, “This is my meal? Is this congee… or just plain water?”

Xiaoquanzi dug at his ear impatiently. “Right now, besides me, who else would bother coming to this godforsaken place? If you don’t want to appreciate it, then don’t drink it—just starve!”

Outside the door, Yuan Chunwang took in the entire scene, gave a cold smile, and left satisfied.

Inside Yanxi Palace he held absolute power. Outsiders, unaware of the palace’s internal affairs, simply believed Wei Yingluo was merely undergoing quiet self-reflection; apart from that, her clothing, food, housing, and daily life supposedly continued as before.

Fuheng originally thought the same.

After morning court ended, as he was about to leave the palace, a little eunuch suddenly approached him:

“Lord Fucha! Lord Soulun has been drowning himself in wine every day. Please find a way to persuade him!”

Fuheng didn’t know who had sent the boy, but he knew what he said was very likely true. Although Hailancha usually appeared carefree and even a bit careless, he was someone who loved deeply. Once Ming Yu entered his heart, she would remain there for the rest of his life.

With Ming Yu’s death now, it was as though a piece of flesh had been brutally torn from his heart. The only reason he hadn’t followed her in death was because there was still a widowed mother at home.

But human hearts are unpredictable. No one had expected Ming Yu to take her own life that day—so how could anyone be certain today that Hailancha wouldn’t do something equally foolish?

The moment this thought arose, a thread of anxiety appeared in Fuheng’s heart. Without waiting for anyone to lead the way, he hurried familiarly to the guards’ quarters and pushed open the door:

“Hailancha!”

The person wearing the clearly ill-fitting guard uniform—sleeves and trousers too long, like a child sneaking into an adult’s clothes—turned at the sound of Fuheng’s voice, reached up, and removed the hat. A cascade of black hair poured down over the shoulders.

This was not Hailancha at all. It was clearly… Chenbi.

Fuheng froze for a second, then immediately turned to leave.

Chenbi: “Master Fucha, please stay a moment.”

But Fuheng refused to stay—or rather, did not dare stay: “Consort Rong, you openly set a trap to lure an outer-court minister here. Aren’t you afraid someone will find out and your reputation will be ruined?”

Chenbi smiled a little. One sentence was enough to halt his steps. She said softly:

“If you are willing to sit by and watch Consort Ling meet with disaster, then go.”

The door closed again. The pearl left behind, disguised as a little eunuch, stood guard at the entrance.

“Speak,” Fuheng said warily. “What exactly do you want?”

Chenbi, however, took out an embroidered handkerchief and slowly toyed with it. On the handkerchief were two dragonflies leaning against each other. In a gentle voice she said:

“Your sachet and Yingluo’s handkerchief—they turn out to be a matching pair.”

Fuheng frowned.

“Master Fucha,” Chenbi looked at him curiously, “Yingluo belonged to you. You watched with your own eyes as she was taken by someone else, and now she has been discarded like trash. Doesn’t that pain you at all?”

Fuheng’s wariness deepened. He knew very well that the power struggles in the inner palace were no less vicious than those at court. He immediately flicked his sleeve and turned to go:

“This humble official doesn’t know what you’re talking about. I take my leave!”

Behind him Chenbi called out:

“The current Wei Yingluo is merely holding on with the last breath of stubbornness!”

Fuheng’s footsteps paused.

“She has offended far too many people,” Chenbi continued calmly. “When she finally falls into ruin, there will be plenty of people ready to settle accounts. Cut off from news, given only plain water each day—how long can she really hold out?”

Fuheng could no longer hide his anger: “And all of this is thanks to you!”

Chenbi: “No—it’s thanks to you.”

Fuheng was stunned. Because of him?

“You and Yingluo were once betrothed, yet in the end you parted like flying geese. Who betrayed whom first?” Chenbi challenged him.

Fuheng was speechless.

“If she hadn’t been rejected, at her age now she should long since have become the mother of several children, shouldn’t she?” Chenbi looked at him earnestly. “Supporting her husband, raising children, mutual respect between husband and wife—that was supposed to be her life. Now… she has nothing. Who do you think is responsible for that?”

Fuheng’s fingers clenched into a fist; the knuckles cracked audibly.

“See.” Chenbi glanced at his hand and giggled. “You’re clearly furious, yet because of propriety, status, and hierarchy, you still don’t dare strike me even once.”

She slowly lifted her gaze to his face. That look—tinged with faint contempt and pity—was something no one could bear.

“Just as you, bound by propriety, status, and hierarchy, could only watch while he took the woman you loved most, yet failed to cherish her properly.” Chenbi said softly, “And in the end you still have to bow and scrape before him, obedient and submissive. Master Fucha, you really are pitiful.”

“Enough!” Fuheng could bear no more. He said stiffly, “This humble official has other matters to attend to. I’m leaving!”

Chenbi’s voice suddenly came from behind him:

“Are you running away again?”

With a whoosh.

A fist came smashing toward her with a whistling wind. Chenbi neither dodged nor evaded. Just as the fist was about to strike her face, it veered off at the last moment and slammed heavily into the wall beside her. Blood instantly bloomed like a flower. Fuheng bit down hard on his lower lip, his body trembling slightly from rage.

Looking at the nearly out-of-control Fuheng, the corners of Chenbi’s lips slowly curved upward into a chilling, mesmerizing smile.

“That’s more like it,” she said softly, her voice like an enchantment. “The Emperor has made you endure again and again, but what has he done? He harms his own brothers, steals other men’s wives… Is someone like that worthy of being your master? Fuheng, listen to my advice—for your sake, and for Yingluo’s sake—wake up!”

Wake up…

   “Water…”

In Yanxi Palace, Wei Yingluo lay weakly on the bed. She struggled for a long time but still could not open her eyes. In her half-conscious state, a single word escaped her cracked lips: “Water…”

Xiaoquanzi walked in holding a teacup, but instead of giving it to her, he handed it to Yuan Chunwang, who was seated inside the room.

Yuan Chunwang took a sip of tea and smiled slightly. “Didn’t we already finish the daily cup of plain water?”

Wei Yingluo was already ill, yet not only was she denied treatment, her food rations had been cut back severely: one bowl of thin congee and one cup of plain water a day. Often before nightfall she would grow so dizzy from hunger that she could only lie in bed and sleep—both to conserve energy and because, when asleep, she didn’t feel the hunger.

“…The Emperor only ordered me placed under house arrest. If I die, do you think you can escape responsibility?” Wei Yingluo finally managed to open her eyes. Her vision was blurred, and every word came out as faint as a thread of breath.

“If you want to eat, or want to drink water, it’s very simple—just one sentence.” Yuan Chunwang hinted meaningfully. “You know what I want to hear. Why won’t you say it?”

“Beg you?” Wei Yingluo gave a mocking laugh. “I’d rather starve to death.”

Suddenly pain exploded across her scalp. Amid Wei Yingluo’s scream of agony, Yuan Chunwang seized her by the hair and dragged her from the bed all the way to the bronze mirror.

“Look at yourself now.” Yuan Chunwang pressed her face against the mirror and smiled. “Are you still that glorious, untouchable Consort Ling?”

Disheveled and filthy, gaunt as a skeleton—less a favored consort now than a discarded consort banished to the cold palace. Her flesh and blood had been worn away inch by inch into ashes, leaving only a pair of eyes still burning with light, like flames smoldering in the cinders.

Yuan Chunwang: “Beg me.”

Wei Yingluo: “No.”

“…Call me Brother.” Yuan Chunwang seemed to compromise a step.

Wei Yingluo gave the same answer: “No.”

“…My patience has its limits.” Yuan Chunwang suddenly laughed—a gorgeous, bewitching smile that was nonetheless cruel to the bone. “I’ll give you one last chance. Tell me—do you regret leaving me?”

Wei Yingluo looked at his reflection in the mirror. His gaze was extraordinarily complex, a turbulent mix of affection and resentment, like a blizzard sweeping across the sea.

All he really wanted was one sentence—even if it was a lie, even if it was just to deceive him… Yet after waiting so long, what he received was her soft, quiet reply: “I don’t regret it.”

“…Is that so?” Yuan Chunwang’s heart suddenly felt hollow. After a long silence, he finally lifted Wei Yingluo in his arms, placed her gently back on the bed—as if performing one last brotherly duty—then took her hand and forced it, inch by inch, to trace across his own face: his jaw, his lips, his nose, his eyes…

“Remember this face,” he instructed her. “Remember it well. In your next life, come find me to settle the score.”

Then, at last, he let go.

Leaving behind Wei Yingluo, who was coughing uncontrollably, Yuan Chunwang walked out of the room without looking back. To Xiaoquanzi he said, “Starting today, skip even that bowl of plain congee.”

Xiaoquanzi sucked in a sharp breath. “That won’t do, sir—if something really happens to her—”

Yuan Chunwang smiled: “Consort Ling has a fiery temperament. After such a blow, she’s become completely dejected, fallen into depression and illness. Do you understand?”

Xiaoquanzi shivered, bowing his head deeply: “Yes, understood!”

Since they couldn’t be siblings in this life, he would simply send her on her way—and they could meet again in the next. That was what Yuan Chunwang thought, and that was exactly what he did. It wasn’t difficult at all; in the rear palace, making a disfavored consort “die of illness” was far too easy.

There was only one thing to worry about: while this could be hidden from Hongli, it could not be hidden from Step-Empress.

After a moment of thought, Yuan Chunwang returned to Chengqian Palace. Without a word, he knelt before Step-Empress: “I beg Her Majesty the Empress to forgive my offense.”

On the stand, an emerald-green parrot was pecking at the grains in Step-Empress’s hand. With her back to him, Step-Empress said, “I haven’t said anything yet, and you already know where you went wrong?”

Yuan Chunwang’s heart skipped a beat. He knew his actions couldn’t escape Step-Empress’s notice, but he hadn’t expected her to find out so quickly. Clearly, she didn’t fully trust him—she must have placed someone to watch him closely.

His mind raced, but his face showed only fear and sincerity: “This servant took it upon himself to deal with Consort Ling—not for my own sake, but to share Your Majesty’s burdens.”

He had chosen these words carefully, guessing at Step-Empress’s true thoughts. Hearing them, she laughed softly: “You bribed the imperial physicians, fabricated medical records, and arranged for Consort Ling to ‘die of illness.’ It would have been perfectly reasonable—if you hadn’t been so impatient. You left traces. Too hasty, and you’ve given others something they can hold against you.”

Yuan Chunwang was stunned: “Then what does Your Majesty mean—?”

“Consort Ling must die, but she cannot die by my hand. Prepare two things immediately. Send one to Yangxin Hall, and the other…” Step-Empress paused, then turned back to him with a mysterious smile, “…also send it to Yangxin Hall.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 179: Confinement

   Wei Yingluo, who had been furious beyond measure, gradually calmed down.

She finally realized it—the woman before her was extraordinarily dangerous.

Innocent and guileless, warm and generous, always seeming to stand on your side, speak for you, consider your feelings… but when you thought back carefully afterward… was she really thinking of you?

   Was the one who truly benefited from her actions really you?

   “Yingluo.” Chenbi stepped closer step by step, smiling as she pressed the golden scissors into Wei Yingluo’s hand. “If you refuse to forgive me, then use these scissors to stab me.”

An indescribable sense of crisis surged over her. Wei Yingluo struggled hard: “Let go! What are you all standing there for? Stop her!”

Only then did the palace maids snap out of their daze. They rushed forward in a flurry, reaching out with many hands to try to wrest the scissors away.

Chenbi gave them a cool glance, then directly seized Wei Yingluo’s right hand—along with the golden scissors—and stabbed them straight into her own right shoulder…

“Ah!!”

The palace doors burst open amid a chaotic rush of footsteps.

Clearly having heard Chenbi’s scream of pain, the Empress Dowager—supported by Aunt Liu’s arm and without even waiting for an umbrella—hurried into Baoyue Tower. When she saw the scene inside, her face changed dramatically. She let go of Aunt Liu’s hand, rushed to Chenbi’s side, and pressed her own hand over the wound: “Quickly summon the imperial physician!!”

Another wave of frantic chaos ensued.

The Empress Dowager held Chenbi protectively in her arms, like a mother cow shielding her calf, allowing no one to come near.

“Chenbi, tell me.” The Empress Dowager looked around warily. “What exactly happened? Who had the audacity to injure you like this!”

Under countless watchful gazes, Chenbi slowly raised her head. Her tear-filled eyes swept across the crowd before finally settling on Wei Yingluo’s face. With a look of aggrieved fragility, she said in a trembling voice, “Yingluo… why would you do this to me?”

Wei Yingluo’s face gradually drained of color.

“What are you waiting for?” The Empress Dowager thundered in fury. “Seize Consort Ling at once!”

When Hongli received the news and hurried over, the first thing he saw was the Empress Dowager’s face, still burning with residual anger.

“Empress Dowager.” After paying his respects, Hongli quickly asked, “How is Consort Rong?”

“The imperial physician has just left. The Empress is inside keeping her company right now.” Seeing that Hongli was about to head straight into the bedchamber, the Empress Dowager called out to stop him. “Don’t go in yet… speak!”

Kneeling on the ground was the senior palace maid Yizhu. At the sharp command, she hurriedly spoke up: “Yes, yes! Today Consort Ling stormed in aggressively and accused Consort Rong of having something to do with the death of Ming Yu. But heavens know, Ming Yu was already terminally ill and beyond any cure. Out of pity, Consort Rong had concealed the true severity of her condition—and for that she was greatly blamed! Consort Ling became too agitated and, in a moment of impulse, stabbed Consort Rong!”

Hongli frowned deeply and asked in a low voice, “Empress Dowager, have the others been questioned?”

The Empress Dowager cast him a sidelong glance. “Aside from Yizhu, only the palace maid Zhenzhu remains. I’ve already ordered her sent to the Shixing Division for interrogation. As for Consort Ling, I leave her to be dealt with by Your Majesty!”

Hearing the implication in her words, Hongli fell silent for a moment before saying, “Empress Dowager, I thought you had always been fond of Yingluo…”

Before he could finish, the Empress Dowager cut him off angrily: “But I cannot tolerate anyone who harms He’an!”

Hongli replied quietly, “Empress Dowager, Consort Rong is not He’an.”

“She is!” The Empress Dowager insisted firmly. “Your Majesty, whether it was an accident or deliberate, Consort Ling’s action was far too arrogant. She must be taught a lesson!”

The commotion outside was too great to be concealed from the Step-Empress.

She soon arrived at Chenbi’s side under the pretext of visiting the injured consort, and smiled slightly. “Impressive.”

Chenbi’s arm was wrapped in a thick layer of white bandage. The blood loss had left her face somewhat pale, yet that pallor did nothing to diminish her beauty—instead it made her appear even more delicate and pitiful, arousing an instinctive desire to protect and cherish her, to shield her from any further harm. She blinked innocently at the Step-Empress like a child: “What are you talking about?”

Admiration and wariness flickered in the Step-Empress’s eyes. “Consort Ling served the Empress Dowager with utmost devotion. Three years in the Yuanmingyuan earned her an affection few could match. In the Forbidden City, the Empress Dowager was her greatest backer! Yet you—you stepped directly on Wei Yingluo to climb up. In less than three months, you’ve made the Empress Dowager regard you as her own flesh and blood, protecting you at every turn. Truly… eye-opening.”

Chenbi gave an innocent smile. “You flatter me.”

But the Step-Empress did not take her innocence at face value.

Wei Yingluo had been an extraordinarily capable woman—yet she had been toyed with like a monkey in Chenbi’s hands. Her most trusted palace maid was dead, she had lost the Empress Dowager’s favor, and now she had also lost Hongli’s trust. Everything she once possessed had been taken from her, piece by piece, by Chenbi.

…All because she trusted her once.

   How could the Step-Empress possibly dare to trust her after seeing such an outcome?

   “Empress.” Chenbi patted the space beside her on the bed and shifted inward slightly, leaving room for someone to sit—intimate and familiar, just as she had once been with Wei Yingluo. “Would you be willing to work with me?”

The Step-Empress, however, had no intention of following in Wei Yingluo’s footsteps. She kept a safe distance, remaining at the edge of the bed, and said coolly, “You and I are mortal enemies. How could we possibly cooperate?”

“We should become friends,” Chenbi said earnestly, looking straight at her. “Because we share the same enemy.”

—The name of that enemy was Wei Yingluo.

   The Step-Empress slowly curved her lips into a smile. “Consort Rong, I find myself liking you more and more.”

She was right—the two of them could indeed be friends… at least until Wei Yingluo’s death.

Chenbi raised a single finger to her lips and made a soft “shh”: “The Emperor is coming.”

The two women exchanged a knowing smile; everything was understood without words.

Footsteps approached from afar. Hongli entered with a heavy heart. He casually raised a hand, excusing Step-Empress from performing the formal greeting, then sat down beside Chenbi and asked with concern: “Chenbi, the imperial physician said your old injuries haven’t healed yet, and now you’ve added new ones. You mustn’t be willful anymore—you have to stay in bed and rest properly.”

Chenbi nodded with a gentle smile.

“The Empress Dowager demands severe punishment for Consort Ling. You’ve always been close to her, so I want to ask you—what do you think should be done with her?” Hongli gazed at her, his eyes carrying a deeper meaning.

This was not an easy question to answer.

Even if an answer had to be given, it shouldn’t come from her. So Chenbi pretended to think it over, while her peripheral vision flicked toward Step-Empress. Receiving the glance, Step-Empress immediately spoke up: “Your Majesty, Consort Ling lost her dearest friend and loyal servant, and she was provoked by others—her feelings are pitiable. But she let her emotions get the better of her and accidentally injured someone; that crime cannot be overlooked. In my opinion, the servants who whispered and instigated her must be severely punished. As for Consort Ling… let her reflect behind closed doors.”

The arrangement wasn’t particularly good, but it wasn’t terrible either. A faint smile finally appeared on Hongli’s face: “Chenbi, what do you think?”

Chenbi gave a soft, tender smile, looking as though her only concern was for Wei Yingluo’s well-being: “I believe Consort Ling truly did not intend to hurt anyone. I beg Your Majesty to show her leniency.”

Hongli let out a breath of relief: “Then let her reflect behind closed doors properly. You just focus on recovering—don’t overthink things.”

The decision regarding Wei Yingluo had been made, but the actual handling of the matter did not fall under Hongli’s direct control. Even if he wanted to intervene, he couldn’t—every move he made was watched by everyone. If he showed too much favoritism toward Wei Yingluo, how would the Empress Dowager react? She would likely be even less willing to spare her.

The person in charge of dealing with Wei Yingluo was Step-Empress.

Using the pretext that palace servants had instigated Consort Ling to commit violence, she replaced every single servant in Yanxi Palace in one sweep. Old-timers like Xiaoquanzi vanished overnight. Those who remained were all new faces. Rather than being there to serve Consort Ling, they were clearly there to monitor her.

An unfamiliar young palace maid placed a food box on the table: “Please have your meal, Consort Ling.”

Wei Yingluo coughed heavily several times: “Just leave it there.”

The young maid handed her a pair of chopsticks. Wei Yingluo reached for them, but her vision suddenly doubled. It took several moments before she managed to grasp them.

“Are you alright, Your Ladyship?” the maid asked worriedly. “Have you caught a cold? This servant will go and—”

Her words cut off abruptly.

Because Yuan Chunwang was standing right behind her.

Like a snake flicking its tongue, he ordered: “You may leave first.”

After dismissing the maid and closing the door behind her, he sat down naturally in front of Wei Yingluo, reached over, and took the chopsticks from her hand: “The Empress has already joined forces with Consort Rong.”

Wei Yingluo stared straight at him.

Step-Empress hadn’t skimped on her meals. Though not as lavish as before, there were still three meat dishes and two vegetable ones. Yuan Chunwang picked up a lion’s head meatball and popped it into his mouth, saying as he chewed: “The Emperor’s favor, the Empress Dowager’s trust, your closest friend’s company, your personal freedom—one by one, you’ve lost them all. If I were you, I’d seriously think about why you’ve ended up in this situation.”

Wei Yingluo remained completely silent.

Seemingly provoked by her demeanor, Yuan Chunwang suddenly slammed the chopsticks onto the table, stood up, and looked down at her coldly: “Because of Ming Yu—for the sake of a mere servant, you actually went to confront Consort Rong, and that’s how you fell into the trap.”

“Ming Yu was my best friend,” Wei Yingluo finally spoke. “No—not just a friend. She was the only family I had left in the Forbidden City…”

“Family?” Yuan Chunwang suddenly seized her chin, forcing her to lift her head and look at his face—a face both beautiful and twisted, both alluring and terrifying. “Little sister, isn’t your only family member me?”

Wei Yingluo struggled and said, “Let go!”

“What is Ming Yu to you? Has she done more for you than I have?” Yuan Chunwang refused to release her. His fingers clamped onto her face like iron pincers as he pressed aggressively, “I’ve protected you like an older brother, giving up chance after chance to climb higher for your sake, even abandoning everything to accompany you in the Yuanmingyuan. And how have you treated me in return, Yingluo… Answer me!”

Wei Yingluo struggled even harder. In their pushing and pulling, they accidentally knocked over the food box. The dishes shattered into several pieces, and one sharp fragment sliced across Yuan Chunwang’s hand.

He lowered his head to look at his hand—blood was dripping freely.

“I’m sorry to you,” Wei Yingluo said. Her voice drew his attention back. The light in his eyes had just begun to brighten when she continued coldly, “But you have also wronged me. From now on, we are strangers. Don’t ever mention brother and sister again.”

“Is that so?” The light in Yuan Chunwang’s eyes dimmed. He let out a laugh.

While laughing, he picked up the remaining plates one by one and dumped all the food onto the ground.

“Starting from today,” Yuan Chunwang announced with a smile after emptying the last plate, “in Yanxi Palace, there will be no one else besides you. Enjoy it well. I hope you can persist without a single grain of rice or drop of water… and never come begging me.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 178: Suspicion

   Li Yu cautiously observed Hongli’s expression.

After learning that Wei Yingluo had disappeared, Hongli had been restless and uneasy. Then word came from the palace staff at Baoyue Tower that they had seen Wei Yingluo enter Changchun Palace, and Hongli had rushed over without a moment’s delay.

Who could have expected he would witness that scene…

A consort and an outer-court official secretly meeting in the inner palace—Hongli not immediately stepping forward to confront them was already the greatest mercy. Otherwise, neither of them would have survived the day.

A young eunuch suddenly entered from outside and reported: “Your Majesty, Her Ladyship Consort Rong requests an audience outside the hall.”

Hongli lifted his eyelids slightly. The almost overflowing rage in his eyes sank back in an instant. He said calmly, “Let her in.”

Chenbi entered with a face full of delight, presenting an embroidered screen to him like a treasure.

Hongli looked down at it. “What is this?”

Chenbi: “I learned embroidery from Yingluo, and then asked the masters at the embroidery workshop for guidance. Only then was I able to complete this standing screen. Your Majesty, take a look—do you like it?”

With just one glance, Hongli recognized its origin. “Broad bean and dragonfly design.”

Chenbi: “I thought for a long time about what to embroider for Your Majesty. Yingluo has a handkerchief with this pattern—I found it interesting, so I copied it exactly.”

Hearing that name again and again, Hongli’s expression gradually shifted. He said with growing impatience, “Is that so?”

Chenbi seemed oblivious. “I really like this pattern. I begged Yingluo for a long time, but she simply wouldn’t give it to me! Oh, right!”

She suddenly clapped her hands and laughed innocently: “Lord Fucha has something similar.”

Hongli’s eyelid twitched. “…When did you see him?”

“Your Majesty didn’t know? On my way to the capital, I nearly fell off a cliff. It was Lord Fucha who saved my life.” Chenbi tilted her head as if recalling the past. “Back then I noticed he wore a sachet at his waist with the exact same pattern embroidered on it… Hehe, who would have thought a man like Lord Fucha would like the same things as women…”

“Enough!” Hongli could no longer suppress his anger. He gave a low shout. “Chenbi, I still have official business. You may return first.”

Once suspicion takes root in a person’s heart, everything that had once been forgotten resurfaces, clear as mountains emerging after the mist clears.

   Wei Yingluo returned to Ming Yu’s room. The palace servants had already cleaned away all the bloodstains inside. They had originally intended to pack up and remove everything Ming Yu had used, to avoid letting any ill omen taint noble lady, but Wei Yingluo had stopped them.

Nowadays, the comb Ming Yu used, the rouge she favored, and the hairpins she ordinarily loved to wear all lay quietly on the dressing table. Wei Yingluo placed her hand on the table and slowly brushed across it inch by inch, until her gaze finally fixed on that unfamiliar set of golden items. She said coldly, “Where did this come from?”

Xiaoquanzi stepped forward: “In reply to Mistress, the day before Ming Yu left the palace, a senior palace maid named Yizhu from Consort Rong’s side came to see Ming Yu. This servant saw that she was holding a carved box in her hands.”

Yingluo: “Was it this one?”

Xiaoquanzi: “Yes.”

Yingluo picked up the golden tweezers and toyed with them.

“…Mistress?” Xiaoquanzi cautiously watched her.

The golden tweezers had already dug deeply into Wei Yingluo’s palm. She gripped them tightly, as if strangling an enemy’s throat, and said coldly, “Where is Consort Rong now?”

After leaving Yangxin Hall, Chenbi went straight back to Baoyue Tower.

Tower beyond tower, mountain beyond mountain—all were shrouded by heavy rain.

Chenbi danced to the rhythm of the raindrops. She danced and sang softly, the tune vaguely resembling a nursery rhyme.

Her dance was very beautiful, yet the gaze with which Yizhu watched her carried a trace of fear.

Because she was clearly performing a duet dance.

It was as though an invisible person stood before her, their hand resting in Chenbi’s palm: when she advanced, “it” retreated; when she retreated, “it” advanced; when she spun, “it” spun with her.

Chenbi smiled in a dazed, dreamlike way, seemingly lost in a beautiful dream that only she could see—until, by accident, she glanced toward the bronze mirror and saw her own reflection: dressed in Manchu flag attire, dancing alone. Her song stopped abruptly, as if someone had jolted awake from a dream. Her eyes remained blank and lost for a long moment before she suddenly threw herself at the mirror, pounding the surface again and again.

“M-Mistress…” Yizhu called out in a trembling voice.

Chenbi seemed not to hear her and continued to hammer the mirror, as though a mortal enemy were hidden inside it.

“Mistress.” Suddenly a palace maid’s voice came from outside the door. “Her Ladyship Consort Ling has come to visit.”

Chenbi roared ferociously: “Shut up!”

The voice outside fell silent.

Very, very slowly, Chenbi turned her head. She giggled eerily: “Dear Yingluo, wait just a moment—I’ll be right there.”

Laughing wildly all the while, she walked toward the door. When she passed Yizhu, the maid instinctively recoiled several steps, staring at her retreating figure as though looking at a demon.

The moment she stepped outside, the innocent, guileless smile of old reappeared on Chenbi’s face. “Yingluo, I was just thinking of coming to find you.”

Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head and regarded Chenbi with a scrutinizing gaze: “Find me?”

Chenbi nodded and hurried over to stand in front of her: “After I came back, I thought about it for a long time. I bear responsibility for Ming Yu’s death.”

Wei Yingluo: “Oh? What responsibility do you bear?”

Chenbi: “Earlier, Ming Yu once told me that she was ill, but she begged me to keep it secret. I was afraid you would be heartbroken, so I kept delaying and didn’t dare tell you. I never imagined she would become so despairing that she would take her own life!”

Wei Yingluo suddenly laughed.

Chenbi: “Yingluo, what’s wrong?”

Between them stood a table. Wei Yingluo reached out and pushed a box toward her: “Was this something you gave her?”

The box was already open. Inside lay the complete set of golden items—including the very pair of golden scissors that had previously been embedded in Ming Yu’s heart, now cleaned and neatly placed back inside.

Chenbi’s gaze swept over the golden scissors. She sighed: “I saw that all of Ming Yu’s things were old, so I sent her a new set of golden utensils. I never expected…”

“If I hadn’t asked you about it today, were you never going to tell me at all?” Wei Yingluo gave a mocking laugh. “This thing… it was actually you who sent it.”

“…I can’t say!” Chenbi suddenly raised her head to look at her. “It was so hard for me to finally win your trust. If I told you, you would distance yourself from me! But Yingluo, Ming Yu did something foolish, and I kept it from you too—yet our original intention in both cases was to protect you!”

Wei Yingluo shot to her feet: “Speak! What exactly is your purpose in deliberately getting close to me?”

Chenbi: “I want to become your very best friend.”

Wei Yingluo: “Your best friend keeps everything from you?”

Chenbi: “I haven’t!”

Wei Yingluo suddenly pulled the golden scissors from their case and drove them hard into the tabletop, shouting furiously: “Then why did you force Ming Yu to her death?!”

Everyone in the room was startled by her action. The more timid palace maids let out frightened cries. Yet Chenbi remained perfectly calm—even placing her hand gently over the one Wei Yingluo still gripped on the scissors’ handle, smiling at her: “Yingluo, Ming Yu was beyond saving. But you must live well. Prolonged suffering is worse than a swift end. Even if you had kept her here, how long could you have kept her? A day? Two days? A month?”

What kind of “prolonged suffering is worse than a swift end”? Wei Yingluo was furious at her choice of words and snapped: “Whether it concerns Ming Yu or me is none of your business!”

“You might be able to accept her, but the Soulun family could not,” Chenbi said gently. “They would resent her—for knowingly being on the verge of death yet still marrying into the Soulun family and ruining their only son. And then they would all turn their hatred on you, because it was your idea… Yingluo, I didn’t want you to be resented by anyone—especially not by the Ming Yu you loved most. I was helping you. How can you blame me?”

Wei Yingluo stared at her as if looking at a madwoman: “You’re insane…”

Chenbi tilted her head and smiled at her—a smile indescribably eerie.

Another round of startled gasps. Under everyone’s shocked or fearful gazes, Chenbi suddenly pulled the golden scissors out of the table.

Wei Yingluo was greatly alarmed. She had only just taken a step back when she saw Chenbi reach out and offer the golden scissors to her.

The handle was turned toward Wei Yingluo; the sharp points aimed at Chenbi herself.

“Yingluo,” Chenbi’s voice was bewitching and hypnotic, “Ming Yu lived in great pain. For her, death was actually a release. You are human, not a god—you cannot bear everyone’s joys, angers, sorrows, and pleasures. By sending Ming Yu away… you can finally be free.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 177: Missing

   With the scissors plunged into her heart and so much blood having flowed, anyone with eyes could see at a glance that Ming Yu was already beyond saving.

Wei Yingluo knew it too, but she refused to believe it.

Everyone is the same—they refuse to accept that a loved one or family member has simply left them forever. They torment the doctors, torment themselves, until finally they break down and burst into sobs.

“Guard Soulun, what are you doing?!”

“Quick—stop him!”

“Don’t let him disturb Her Ladyship!”

The eunuchs grabbed his arms, others clutched his legs. Hailancha’s eyes were bloodshot, his face twisted in fury, the veins near his temples bulging violently—no one dared let such a man get close to Consort Ling.

“Soulun guard, my mistress has ordered that she will see no one!” Xiaoquanzi cried while clinging to his leg. “Barging in like this is making things difficult for us servants!”

“Get out of my way!” Hailancha’s mind had already been scorched by the dreadful news. He kicked the man aside and lunged toward the bedroom doors. “Consort Ling, come out! I have something to ask you!”

The doors remained tightly shut; no one answered. Just as Hailancha was about to force his way in, Chenbi arrived from outside with her attendants. Seeing the scene, her expression immediately darkened:

“Consort Ling is overwhelmed with grief and does not wish to see anyone. If you have something to say, you can say it to me.”

“I only want to ask her one thing…” Hailancha stared fixedly at the closed doors. “Why did Ming Yu die?”

Chenbi sighed:

“When we reached Ming Yu’s room, she had already taken her own life. She left no message behind.”

That explanation was worse than none at all. Hailancha broke free of the others, threw himself against the door, and pounded on it:

“Consort Ling! Ming Yu was your closest friend, your most trusted confidante. Is this all you have to say about her death? Come out!”

His commotion was so great that it finally alerted Hongli.

With a single command from Hongli, guards rushed into Yanxi Palace and dragged Hailancha back to Yangxin Hall in restraints.

“Hailancha, you are truly outrageous!” Hongli glared at him furiously. “Who gave you permission to cause such a disturbance in Yanxi Palace and frighten Consort Ling?”

Hailancha knelt on the ground, head bowed, stubbornly refusing to offer a single word of explanation.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been severely reprimanded, but today, considering the pain of losing his beloved, Hongli chose not to press the matter. His gaze shifted to Ye Tianshi, who was kneeling on the other side.

Unbidden, the face of Chenbi rose in his mind—along with the words she had spoken to him that very morning:

“Your Majesty, regarding Ming Yu… I have something to report…”

“Ye Tianshi,” Hongli said coldly. “Speak.”

Ye Tianshi had already been kneeling for some time. He sighed and answered honestly:

“The young lady once came to see this humble servant. I diagnosed that the silver needle had already pierced her heart and lungs—there was no medicine that could save her. Ming Yu instructed me not to tell anyone. I never expected she would… take her own life—”

Halfway through the explanation, Hailancha could bear no more. He lunged forward, seized the other man by the collar, and roared:

“She told you not to say anything, so you said nothing at all?!”

Another chaotic scuffle erupted. Hongli shouted sternly to stop it; Li Yu stepped forward to intervene and finally pulled Hailancha away. After taking several deep breaths, Hailancha suddenly choked with sobs:

“It’s my fault… all my fault. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask…”

A man may shed blood but not tears—unless the pain reaches the heart. After Hailancha was escorted away, Ye Tianshi asked in a low voice:

“Your Majesty, regarding Consort Ling…”

“There is no need to tell her,” Hongli replied.

Ye Tianshi felt uneasy. At first he had believed that keeping a patient’s confidence was only right and proper. But after witnessing Hailancha’s misery, regret began to creep in. He even wondered whether, if he had told Hailancha earlier—or told Wei Yingluo—Ming Yu might have met a different fate.

After hesitating for a moment, he said:

“Your Majesty, this servant committed a grave error by withholding information. To continue concealing it from Consort Ling now would be…”

“There is no need to make extra trouble,” Hongli said, gazing in the direction of Yanxi Palace, his expression complicated. “She didn’t understand before, but now she should have figured it out.”

Yet some things in this world, even when one can reason them out, are still impossible to accept in the moment.

Ding-ling, ding-ling, ding-ling…

Inside Baoyue Tower, soft songs and graceful dances filled the air.

Skirts swirled through the air, tiny bells chimed crisply. Chenbi danced with joy, bending backward in a perfect arc that outshone all others, her smile bewitching, enchanting—and utterly innocent.

“Lady.” Yizhu came to her side and spoke cautiously, “We just received news… Consort Ling has gone missing.”

The dance steps halted. Chenbi turned her head. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know.” Yizhu shook her head. “His Majesty just sent people to look for her, but she wasn’t in the palace. Now the whole of Yanxi Palace is going mad searching for her.”

Chenbi let out a soft laugh. “I see… Bring me my shoes.”

The sound of her anklet bells rang out like a melody from a foreign tune, drifting from Baoyue Tower all the way to the palace gate. Chenbi waited for a long time until she finally spotted the person she was looking for. Smiling, she called out, “Lord Fucha!”

Fuheng had entered the palace on official business and was now finished, about to leave. Seeing her again, he couldn’t help but frown.

Chenbi hurried over, her voice carrying a note of urgency. “Yingluo has disappeared!”

She quickly recounted the tragedy that had occurred in Yanxi Palace, then sighed. “She blames herself deeply for Ming Yu’s death. I’m really afraid something might happen to her.”

Fuheng was silent for a moment before replying, still maintaining his distance, “Consort Rong, I am merely an outer-court official. I cannot interfere in inner-palace affairs. My apologies.”

He gave a courteous bow and stepped forward, about to pass through the palace gate, when he suddenly turned to look back.

Behind him was empty air. Chenbi had disappeared at some point without a trace.

Fuheng hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and turned back toward the direction of the inner palace.

Changchun Palace, now without its mistress, was always filled with falling leaves and an overwhelming sense of desolation. Over time, aside from the occasional birds and sparrows, no one came anymore.

Today, however, was unusual. From within the empty palace came the sound of sweeping—slow, steady strokes, one after another.

“You really are here.”

The broom paused for a second, then resumed its motion.

Fuheng stepped in from outside and spoke to the person across from him. “You are no longer the little palace maid of Changchun Palace back then. You are Consort Ling now. If people find out you’re here sweeping the floors, what will they think?”

With that, he reached out abruptly, snatched the broom from her hand, and tossed it aside.

Wei Yingluo glanced at him blankly, showing neither resistance nor anger. Suddenly she knelt down on the ground. Beside her was a bucket of water with a cleaning rag draped over the rim. She deftly wet the rag, wrung it out, and began wiping the floor—just as if she were still that little palace maid of Changchun Palace.

Fuheng said sternly, “Wei Yingluo! The late Empress is gone. Ming Yu is gone. Of all the people who used to be together, you’re the only one left. So what? You are Wei Yingluo. Even without them, you can stand on your own!”

Wei Yingluo could not get up. She remained kneeling on the ground, wiping the floor without pause.

“Enough!” Fuheng dropped to one knee in front of her and placed both hands firmly on her shoulders, trying to shake her awake. “This is not your fault. Even if she hadn’t taken her own life, she wouldn’t have lived much longer. Didn’t the imperial physicians already say so? The needle pierced her lungs—there was no cure!”

“No… it is my fault.” Wei Yingluo closed her eyes, tears falling as she spoke. “Because of my selfishness…”

Fuheng: “What selfishness?”

“The Empress once said that in the future she would personally see me off in marriage. Unfortunately, she never got to see it.” Wei Yingluo’s eyes were blurred with tears. “I wanted Ming Yu to marry, to wear that bright red wedding dress, to fulfill the dream that I could never achieve myself…”

Fuheng stared at her in stunned silence.

He kept telling her not to cling to the past—but could he do the same?

If he truly could, he would not still keep the letters sent by old friends, the old robe woven by his wet nurse, the old books given by classmates, and that old sachet Yingluo once gave him.

Fuheng was, in fact, the most sentimental person in the world.

“Do you understand now?” She lifted a pair of tear-filled eyes to look at him and murmured, “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have forced a dream I could never fulfill onto Ming Yu.”

This isn’t just your dream—it’s mine too… Fuheng gazed at her in a daze, almost believing he had merely been trapped in a nightmare. He had never married Erqing, and she had never married Hongli. They were still young, still in their prime: she a little palace maid of Changchun Palace, and he her young master…

   But alas, this was no dream.

Wei Yingluo cried for a long time before finally calming down somewhat. She glanced at the hand still resting on her shoulder and unobtrusively pushed it away. “I’m sorry, Lord Fucha. I lost my composure.”

Fuheng: “Yingluo…”

Wei Yingluo stood up. Though she was still dressed in a palace maid’s attire, her demeanor had already returned to that of a consort. “Lord Fucha, it is improper for you to address me that way.”

Fuheng forced back his sorrow: “Your Ladyship Consort Ling, please take good care of yourself.”

Wei Yingluo walked out without looking back. Halfway there, she suddenly stopped. “…Lord Fucha, who told you I was here?”

Fuheng: “I ran into Consort Rong on the way. She said you had gone missing. I guessed you would be here.”

Consort Rong? Wei Yingluo was momentarily stunned, then fell into thought. “Consort Rong… Consort Rong… Wait, could it be…”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 176: The Golden Scissors

   “By the grace of the Empress Dowager’s benevolent decree, thou, Concubine Rong of the Hezhuo clan, hast conducted thyself with propriety and grace, displayed gentle virtue and exemplary conduct, served with utmost diligence and caution in attendance upon the Empress Dowager’s residence, fulfilled thy inner duties without fault, and long adhered faithfully to the admonitions of the female historians. Now, in accordance with the gracious command of the Empress Dowager, thou art hereby promoted and enfeoffed as Consort Rong. So it is decreed.”

In Baoyue Tower, Li Yu read out the imperial edict.

Chenbi, together with a group of palace servants, knelt in front. “We thank His Majesty for his great grace.”

Li Yu did not dare let this newly favored noble lady remain kneeling for long. With a quick wave of his hand, the eunuchs filed in carrying the ceremonial court robes, necklace, and other regalia befitting a consort.

Li Yu smiled obsequiously. “Your Ladyship Concubine Rong, His Majesty has already appointed Grand Scholar Yin Jishan and Grand Secretary of the Cabinet Maila Xun as chief and deputy envoys. Once Your Ladyship has fully recovered, the formal ceremony will be held. Please rest and recuperate in peace.”

“Very well.” Chenbi replied indifferently. She didn’t even glance at the court robes or necklace before gesturing for the palace maids to put them away.

“This woman really is extraordinary,” Li Yu thought, observing coldly. “Things that others can only dream of, she doesn’t care about in the slightest…”

Li Yu considered himself well-versed in reading people, yet he had never encountered anyone like her. Everyone has desires; everyone wants something. What did Consort Rong seek? What did she desire? He could not see through her at all.

Watching Li Yu leave, Chenbi glanced out the window: “Yizhu, where has he gone?”

On the corridor, Fuheng halted his steps.

From this vantage point, looking into the distance, he could see a corner of Changchun Palace’s upturned eaves. A bird circled above it, then suddenly folded its wings and landed, its slender toes perching delicately on the tile.

Everything about Changchun Palace filled him with nostalgia—whether it was his sister, or Yingluo…

Suddenly, a clear chime of bells rang out on the quiet corridor. He turned his head, then quickly lowered it again.

A pair of jade feet adorned with ankle bells passed before his eyes. Unintentionally, a handkerchief dropped from her sleeve. Embroidered on the handkerchief was a pair of dragonflies nestled close together—exceptionally distinctive.

Chenbi bent down to pick up the handkerchief, then turned her head with a start: “Oh! Lord Fucha!”

“Your Ladyship Consort Rong.” As an outer-court official, Fuheng’s demeanor at this moment was impeccable—polite yet maintaining a clear sense of distance.

“You traveled thousands of miles to escort me all the way to the capital, and you even saved my life. I’ve never properly thanked you.” Chenbi’s eyes were full of innocent sincerity.

“No need for thanks. It was only my duty.” Fuheng replied.

“Thanks to you, I’m living very well now. Both His Majesty and Consort-Ling take good care of me.” Chenbi held out the handkerchief for him to see. “Look—this is the pattern Consort-Ling taught me to embroider. She has one exactly like it. I loved it so much, but no matter how I begged, she wouldn’t give it to me—so I had to embroider a matching one myself.”

Seeing that Fuheng’s gaze lingered on the handkerchief for a long time, she tilted her head. “What is it? Is this embroidery pattern… something special?”

“It is the seventh piece from Han Ximeng’s Embroidered Album of Famous Song and Yuan Paintings. Women usually embroider flowers and plants; this design is truly unusual, which is why it caught my attention.” Fuheng slowly withdrew his gaze and said expressionlessly, “It is getting late. I must leave the palace. Farewell.”

Chenbi smiled brightly as she watched his retreating figure, her thoughts drifting back to that day on the journey to the capital.

—Neigh!

   With a long whinny from the horse, Chenbi tumbled from its back. The horse plunged over the cliff, and she was about to follow.

   A hand suddenly reached out from the side and yanked her back up from the edge of the abyss.

   Who was it?

   “Lord Fucha!” someone nearby shouted. “Are you all right?”

   The maids surrounded her protectively. Through the gaps between them, Chenbi’s gaze remained fixed on that Lord Fucha. First he ordered someone to prepare another horse for her and personally inspected it. Then his expression suddenly changed. He returned to the cliff edge and began searching everywhere.

   Finally, he let out a breath of relief, bent down, and picked up an old sachet.

   Because her eyes had never left him, Chenbi clearly saw the pattern on the sachet—a pair of dragonflies nestled lovingly together.

   It was only much later, after she entered the palace, that she learned from Wei Yingluo: that pattern was the seventh piece from Han Ximeng’s Embroidered Album of Famous Song and Yuan Paintings.

   Fuheng’s figure disappeared at the end of the corridor, and her recollection ended there as well. Chenbi lowered her head, gave the handkerchief in her hand a half-smiling, enigmatic look, then tucked it away again and headed toward Yanxi Palace.

Today was the day Ming Yu would complete her service and leave the palace.

   As soon as Chenbi arrived, she saw the table covered with boxes of all sizes. She casually lifted one lid and found twelve flat hairpins inside—some of jadeite, some of fine jade, some of agarwood, some of tortoiseshell inlaid with gemstones. They were used for styling the Manchu banner head; when inserted to hold the hair in place, they would gleam with the subtle luster of jade and gold.

She opened another box: twelve hairpins of varying lengths. The long ones were gilt-silver kingfisher-feather ear-pick hairpins inlaid with rubies; the short ones were coral branches dotted with clusters of red beans. Long and short, in the shapes of flowers or fish, each one beautifully distinct.

Chenbi went through the boxes one by one, eyes wide with amazement: “All of these are for Ming Yu?”

Wei Yingluo smiled and nodded.

“Such extravagance.” Chenbi picked up a plum-blossom hairpin, held it playfully in front of her face, and laughed. “You’re going to scare the Soulun family out of their wits.”

Wei Yingluo: “Ming Yu’s family background is humble. I have to stand up for her and give her support.”

Chenbi gazed steadily at Yingluo: “You really treat her so well.”

“She treats me well too.” Wei Yingluo looked around. “Today is the day she leaves the palace—why hasn’t she come out yet?”

A palace maid hurried to reply: “Sister Ming Yu said she wants to dress up properly and make herself look beautiful before setting off.”

Wei Yingluo laughed softly. “Go hurry her again.”

The maid: “Yes, ma’am.”

But Chenbi set down the hairpin in her hand and said to Wei Yingluo: “Waiting here is so boring. Let’s go find her together.”

Thinking that time was getting late, and besides the dowry items on the table, she still had many final instructions and words of advice to give Ming Yu, Wei Yingluo stopped waiting. She stood up and headed toward Ming Yu’s room.

Along the way, Chenbi chattered away like a cheerful magpie: “I love the broken-branch flower patterns on wedding dresses the most—they’re so interesting and pretty. You’ve really put your whole heart into Ming Yu’s marriage.”

Though the wedding dress was beautiful, in Wei Yingluo’s eyes, the most beautiful thing was the bride wearing it. She said with considerable pride, “On the day she marries, our Ming Yu will surely be the most beautiful bride of all.”

The two arrived at Ming Yu’s door. Wei Yingluo raised her hand and knocked: “Ming Yu.”

There was no response for a long time.

Wei Yingluo knocked again, her smile slowly fading from her face: “Ming Yu, are you in there? Ming Yu!”

“Yingluo…” Chenbi looked toward her with some worry.

Wei Yingluo was even more anxious inside than she was. Gritting her teeth, she ordered: “Someone—break the door open!”

Xiaoquanzi brought people over. Together they counted—one, two, three—and slammed against the door with all their strength until it burst open.

Pushing Xiaoquanzi aside, Wei Yingluo rushed in several steps, then froze stock-still.

Ming Yu lay face-up on the bed. Her hair had been combed neatly and smoothly; at her temples, a little jasmine oil had been applied, making her black hair shine even more like dark clouds. Around her neck was the silver circle Yingluo had once given her; on her wrist was a lustrous jade bracelet. And on her body was the wedding dress with broken-branch flower embroidery—every flower, every leaf, every single stitch the product of Wei Yingluo’s own painstaking effort.

“Ming Yu…” Wei Yingluo staggered forward.

Ming Yu had been so considerate. Perhaps to fulfill one last wish for Wei Yingluo, even though she had not wanted to, she had still put on the wedding dress, applied the hair oil, and dressed herself up as a bride—just so that Wei Yingluo could see her… one final time…

“Ming Yu…” Wei Yingluo’s legs gave way; she dropped to her knees beside the bed. Tears fell in large drops. “Why…”

A pair of golden scissors was embedded in Ming Yu’s chest.

Fresh blood had poured out, dyeing the wedding dress a grotesque, demonic red. Wei Yingluo did not dare check for breath at her nose, did not even dare feel for a pulse. In a trembling voice she cried out loudly: “Imperial physician… call the imperial physician, quick! Hurry—hurry!”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 175: More Gratitude

   There were not many things that could truly concern Wei Yingluo, but Ming Yu’s marriage was one of them.

This girl had been with her for many years. Though nominally mistress and servant, they were truly like sisters. Wei Yingluo’s own life had been full of hardship, so she hoped Ming Yu would not follow the same path. After careful scrutiny, she had finally chosen a suitable match for her.

“Mistress, about Ming Yu…” Xiaoquanzi hesitated at the door, wanting to speak but stopping himself.

Wei Yingluo was stunned for a moment, then pushed the door open. The room was in utter disarray—betrothal gifts scattered across the floor. Ming Yu sat with her back to her and said coldly, “Get out!”

“Ming Yu!” Wei Yingluo frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

The betrothal gifts had been delivered by the guard commander Hailancha. This man was currently highly favored by Hongli, and what was even more valuable was his upright character. The elders in his family had only ever taken one wife each—no concubines. Growing up in such a household, Hailancha was very likely to marry only one woman as well.

If it meant a lifetime with just one partner, then even if his family was somewhat poor, it hardly mattered. In any case, Wei Yingluo had already prepared a generous dowry, more than enough to support the couple’s household.

Ming Yu turned around. Seeing it was her, she said coolly, “I won’t marry.”

If she had opposed the match from the very beginning, Wei Yingluo naturally would not have forced her. But now the exchange of birth charts had already taken place—what did she mean by saying this now? Wei Yingluo frowned: “Ming Yu, you and Hailancha are deeply in love. The betrothal gifts have already been sent. Why are you suddenly saying you won’t marry?”

Ming Yu: “I don’t care. In any case, I cannot marry him. I absolutely cannot!”

Wei Yingluo: “If you won’t marry, at least give me a reasonable explanation.”

Ming Yu’s eyes gradually reddened. How could she possibly tell Wei Yingluo the truth?

Years ago, Noble Consort Chun had tormented her by inserting many needles into her body. Some had been removed, but others remained buried deep in her lungs and vital organs. Over time, they had become fatal curses. Ye Tianshi had said… there was no cure.

With a body like this, how could she ruin someone else’s life? Ming Yu pushed Wei Yingluo aside and rushed toward the door: “I just won’t marry anyone—never!”

“Ming Yu!” Wei Yingluo hurriedly chased after her.

The commotion they made was so great that it could not be hidden from the servants nearby.

Whether Ming Yu married or not, the betrothal gifts could not simply be left scattered on the floor. Xiaoquanzi brought several palace maids in to clean up. By the time they finished, it was nearly time for lunch. Among them, two found a shaded spot to eat, while one quietly slipped away from the others and went to Baoyue Tower.

Inside Baoyue Tower, the Empress Dowager removed a string of jade beads from her own wrist and slipped them onto Chenbi’s. The beads were green as spring water, accentuating the fair, lotus-root-like whiteness of Chenbi’s arm even more beautifully.

The Empress Dowager stroked Chenbi’s hair, smiling kindly with benevolence:

“The more time I spend with you, the more familiar and dear you feel to me. This is just a small gift—accept it.”

Chenbi leaned against her knees, like a child basking in maternal affection, gazing at her with tender warmth:

“Empress Dowager, I have traveled thousands of miles to reach the capital. You are not the first person to show me care, but you are the first to make me feel the warmth of a mother.”

No words could be more touching than these. The Empress Dowager was instantly moved, grasping her hand and saying:

“If you’re willing, from now on, treat me as your mother.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Chenbi bit her lip, looking at her somewhat hesitantly. “If Your Majesty truly cherishes me, could you allow me to make one request?”

“What do you want?” If she could hear her call her “Mother” even once, the Empress Dowager would pluck the moon from the sky for her.

Chenbi: “Empress Dowager, Consort Ling has been diligently teaching me the rules and etiquette, and I am deeply grateful to her! Seeing her hands covered in wounds from copying the blood sutras, I truly can’t bear it. I humbly beg Your Majesty’s mercy to spare her from this painful task.”

The Empress Dowager’s expression shifted slightly: “Did she complain to you?”

Chenbi looked somewhat flustered, waving her hands repeatedly: “No, no, Consort Ling hasn’t said a word. Please don’t misunderstand, Your Majesty!”

The Empress Dowager’s heart sank, but to reassure her, she smiled and said: “You’re right. Drawing blood harms the body and goes against the Buddhist principles. Very well, she’s excused.”

“Your concubine thanks Your Majesty’s grace on behalf of Consort Ling!” Chenbi said with great joy.

The two shared a midday meal. The Empress Dowager, being advanced in age, returned to Shoukang Palace for a nap after eating. After seeing her off, Yizhu came to report: “Mistress, news from Yanxi Palace.”

“Oh?” Chenbi smiled. “What good news?”

Yizhu recounted the matter of Ming Yu refusing a marriage proposal, then pursed her lips, somewhat puzzled: “Mistress, I haven’t seen Consort Ling treat you particularly well. Why do you keep helping her time and again? You even specifically pleaded with the Empress Dowager to spare her from that hardship…”

“What do you know?” Chenbi touched the ruby pendant on her earlobe, giving a half-smile. “It’s not enough, far from enough… I must continue to repay her.”

Suddenly, she removed the pendant from her ear, placed it in a brocade box, and instructed Yizhu to deliver it to Yanxi Palace. Since she frequently sent gifts to Yanxi Palace, Wei Yingluo wasn’t surprised. In the spirit of reciprocity, she had Ming Yu deliver a box of nourishing supplements in return.

“Ming Yu,” Chenbi casually set the supplements aside and took Ming Yu’s hand. “I heard you’re about to get married?”

Ming Yu froze for a moment, assuming Wei Yingluo had told her, and gave a muffled hum in response.

“Is your health up to it?” Chenbi let out a soft gasp, looking at her somewhat sheepishly. “Actually, that night, I overheard your conversation with Ye Tianshi…”

“You—you know?” Ming Yu said, a little panicked.

“Poor Ming Yu.” Chenbi raised her hand to gently stroke her face. “You haven’t told Yingluo, have you? It must be so hard to keep it bottled up inside.”

Ming Yu bit her lips tightly, the pressure turning them red, as if blood might seep out.

“There’s no cure—you will surely die,” Chenbi said softly. “But what’s truly terrifying isn’t death itself, but the process of dying. One day, one month, one year… You don’t know when it will strike. But when that day comes, your husband will resent you, your mother-in-law will hate you, and they’ll even turn their hatred toward Yingluo. They’ll say, ‘Oh, Consort Ling, how could you marry a dying woman into our Soulun family?’”

“Stop it!” Ming Yu shouted, then pleaded, “Please, don’t say any more…”

“You could choose not to marry, but then the only one who would suffer is Yingluo,” Chenbi sighed. “She loves you so much, trusts you so completely, treats you like her own sister. She personally selected a husband’s family for you, sewed your wedding dress with her own hands… only to watch you die suddenly in the end.”

“No, no!” Ming Yu covered her face with her hands, tears spilling through her fingers. “I don’t want this, I don’t want this…”

“But you have no other choice,” Chenbi rested her chin on Ming Yu’s shoulder, her bright red lips brushing against her ear, her voice beguiling and hypnotic. “Ming Yu, remember my words: as long as you’re still alive, you must step onto that bridal sedan…”

A few days later, at Yanxi Palace.

A delicate hand parted the beaded curtain, the beads clinking together with a crisp sound, like pearls large and small falling onto a jade plate.

Ming Yu emerged from behind the curtain, dressed in a rainbow-hued ceremonial robe with phoenix crown and swaying hairpins, adorned with layers of jeweled necklaces that tinkled softly with every step.

Like any doting parent watching their daughter about to marry, Wei Yingluo looked her up and down, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes. “Turn around.”

Ming Yu reluctantly spun in a circle. The hem of her skirt flared out, spreading a vivid field of red through the air.

“Good, good, good!” Like every foolish parent in the world, at that moment Wei Yingluo could only repeat the one word: good.

Suddenly Ming Yu grabbed her hand. Her bright, beautiful face was filled with panic. “Yingluo… I can’t bear it. I really can’t bear it. I don’t want to marry. Please, I beg you—don’t make me go through with this marriage!”

Her fear stemmed from a matter of life and death, but Wei Yingluo mistook it for ordinary pre-wedding nerves.

“Ming Yu, you are like a little sister to me.” Wei Yingluo took her hand and spoke softly to comfort her. “Back then, my older sister told me that when I got married, she would personally make my wedding dress for me. Unfortunately, such beautiful clothes are something I will never have the chance to wear in this lifetime. But—I hope that you can wear them.”

Ming Yu froze.

“If the Empress were still here and saw you getting married, she would surely be happy too.” Wei Yingluo gently stroked her cheek, a trace of melancholy mixed with consolation in her voice. “Our wishes have all come to nothing. So, Ming Yu, you must be happy. Please—you have to be happy!”

Ming Yu closed her eyes. Tears streamed down without stopping.

At that moment, Xiaoquanzi came to report that Concubine Rong had arrived at the palace to learn court etiquette.

“She hasn’t fully recovered yet—what etiquette is there to learn?” Wei Yingluo shook her head. “Ming Yu, I’ll go keep her company. You stay here.”

Dressed in full wedding attire, Ming Yu was in no condition to receive outsiders. She watched Wei Yingluo leave, then slowly turned her gaze to the rhombus-shaped mirror. Reflected in the glass was the wedding dress—all crimson, like blood that had not yet dried.

Knock, knock, knock. A few gentle taps at the door. “Ming Yu, it’s me—Yizhu.”

Ming Yu came back to herself and opened the door. “Yizhu, why are you here?”

Yizhu was holding a box in her hands. It looked like another gift, but this time the recipient was not Wei Yingluo. Smiling sweetly, she placed the box beside the rhombus mirror. “My mistress said that the last time she saw your accessories, they were all quite old. So she specially had a set made of pure gold as a little something to add to your dowry.”

She left the box and departed. Ming Yu remained silent for a moment before reaching out to open it.

Inside the box, it was as if a small sun had been placed there. A sudden burst of golden light shot out. Ming Yu narrowed her eyes. After a while, she could finally make out the contents clearly: a pure-gold pair of tweezers, a gold ear spoon, a gold mirror, and a pair… of gold scissors.

Her gaze fixed on the golden scissors. In a daze, the voice that had once sounded so bewitching and seductive echoed again in her ears: “Ming Yu, the rice is already cooked. Remember my words—as long as you are alive, you will have to board the bridal sedan.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 174: Musk Pills

   An uninvited guest had arrived at Chengqian Hall.

The Step-Empress leaned lightly against the back of her chair, her eyes filled with wariness:

“Concubine Rong, what is so urgent that you had to come see me?”

She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but today Chenbi seemed even more beautiful.

Other women grew more haggard with age—hair turning white, crow’s feet appearing at the corners of their eyes. Even the Step-Empress herself, burdened with managing so many affairs in the rear palace, had prematurely grayed several strands of hair. Yet the woman before her, already nearing thirty, showed not the slightest sign of aging. Instead she grew more beautiful and radiant with each passing day. Merely looking at her for an extra moment filled the Step-Empress with an additional pang of fear and jealousy.

Chenbi curtsied:

“Greetings to Your Majesty Empress. I have come uninvited today in order to clear up a misunderstanding.”

The Step-Empress came back to her senses and laughed mockingly:

“There has never been any interaction between us—how could there be a misunderstanding?”

Chenbi shook her head:

“No, there is a misunderstanding. Your Majesty has misunderstood that I wishes to compete for favor, and misunderstood that I would threaten your position.”

What kind of misunderstanding was that? The Step-Empress said with faint sarcasm:

“Concubine Rong, the very day you entered the palace, the Emperor overruled all objections to build the Baoyue Tower for you. Within three months of entering the palace, you enjoyed the Emperor’s sole and exclusive favor, causing resentment to fill the entire rear palace. And now you stand here and tell me that all of this is just a misunderstanding? Ha—this really is the funniest joke I’ve ever heard.”

Chenbi: “Empress, I have always been puzzled as to why you would condescend to make things difficult for me. It was only recently, after slowly coming to understand the past of the Forbidden City, that I finally grasped the mystery behind it! You are afraid that I will monopolize the Emperor’s favor, and that if I give birth to a son in the future, it will repeat the calamity of the time of Taizong Emperor Wen!”

The Step-Empress raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about!”

“Taizong Emperor Wen doted solely on Boerzigit Hailanzhu. Because of the birth of the Eighth Prince, he issued a general amnesty throughout the realm, causing unrest in both court and country. Shunzhi Emperor was infatuated with Consort Dong E, treating the Fourth Prince almost as his legitimate heir and even contemplating naming him heir on three separate occasions. As for the previous Emperor, because he favored Consort Nian excessively, even an emperor as decisive and ruthless as he treated Prince Fuhui as if the boy were a treasure beyond price! If those beloved children had not all died young, who knows what might have happened afterward!” Chenbi sighed. “Now, the Emperor’s favor toward me far surpasses what he once showed Consort Ling. You are worried that if I have children in the future, they will block the path to the throne for your two noble princes!”

The Step-Empress sneered. “Listen to that. See how spoiled the Emperor has made you—you dare to utter such treasonous words!”

Chenbi smiled coyishly. “Your Majesty deals with me precisely because of the matter of heirs. If I can remove this future threat for you, would you then let it go and never make trouble for me or Consort Ling again?”

The Step-Empress: “And how would you remove it?”

Chenbi took out a small bottle. “It is said that musk herb has the effect of rendering one childless. This bottle contains musk pills. Your Majesty, please look carefully!”

The Step-Empress had been calm and composed until this moment. No matter what Chenbi said or did, the initiative had remained firmly in her own hands. But now, seeing the medicine bottle in Chenbi’s hand, her expression changed abruptly. She gripped the armrests of her chair tightly and shouted toward Yuan Chunwang, who was standing closest to Chenbi: “Quick, stop her!”

But Chenbi had already moved with lightning speed. She poured all the pills from the bottle into her palm, tilted her head back, and swallowed them in one gulp.

Yuan Chunwang arrived too late. By the time he reached her, he could only seize her throat and try to force her to spit out the pills she had already ingested. In the struggle that followed, this chief steward of the inner palace proved no match in strength for Chenbi, who had grown up on horseback.

After shoving him away, Chenbi wiped the corner of her mouth and smiled sweetly at the Empress. “Your Majesty, if I can no longer bear children, will you finally let us go?”

A beautiful woman is not frightening. What is truly frightening is a beautiful woman who is ruthless even toward herself.

The Step-Empress felt a chill run through her entire body. Of all the places this woman could have taken the medicine, she deliberately chose to do it right here in Chengqian Palace. Clearly, she intended for the entire capital to know that the Empress, out of jealousy over her favor, had driven her to such desperate measures. What would the Emperor think? What would the Empress Dowager think?

From now on, the moment she so much as caught a cold or complained of a headache, everyone would immediately suspect the Step-Empress.

What cunning. What audacity!

“Summon the imperial physician…” The Step-Empress ground her teeth in hatred, forcing the words out one by one through clenched jaws. But before she could finish the sentence, a crowd surged in from outside the door: Chenbi’s maid Yizhu, Li Yu, and… Hongli.

In that instant, two words flashed through the Step-Empress’s mind—It’s over.

Hongli was furious to the core, yet he knew this was not the moment to lose his temper. He shot the Step-Empress a fierce glare, then bent down and lifted Chenbi into his arms. Perhaps because she had swallowed so much medicine, her body had gone limp, and her face was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

“Summon Ye Tianshi at once!” Hongli ordered, carrying her back to Baoyue Tower.

Ye Tianshi hurried over. He took her pulse, administered medicine, and worked from morning until evening. Chenbi vomited again and again, until her stomach was almost completely emptied.

Hongli could not bear to watch her suffer. He stepped outside and, on his way, gave Yizhu a meaningful look.

Yizhu followed him. Once they were both outside, Hongli turned and asked her: “Where did the musk herb come from?”

Yizhu: “My mistress told the Imperial Pharmacy that she needed it to compound the Supreme True Red Jade Ointment. It took a full month before they could gather enough of the ingredient.”

Hongli: “Supreme True Red Jade Ointment? No wonder she has been studying fragrance recipes so intently. Tell me—where did this book come from!”

Yizhu answered nervously: “My mistress brought it back from the Yangxing Study in the Imperial Garden.”

Hongli scoffed with icy disdain. “Drag her away.”

Li Yu: “Yes, Your Majesty!”

Li Yu waved his hand, and two eunuchs hurriedly entered, clearly about to drag Yizhu away.

Yizhu panicked: “No, no! Your Majesty, it was Yanxi Palace! The incense recipe was brought back from Yanxi Palace!”

Hongli’s expression subtly changed. “Yanxi Palace?”

Yizhu kowtowed frantically like pounding garlic: “Your Majesty, Her Ladyship Consort-Ling was teaching this servant’s mistress how to make incense, and this very incense manual was given to the mistress. But this servant truly didn’t know that the mistress would harbor such intentions! The mistress was afraid of implicating Consort-Ling, so she strictly instructed this servant not to speak of it. This servant would never intentionally deceive Your Majesty!”

Hongli’s gaze lingered on the incense manual lying at the edge of the table. He remained silent for a long time.

Li Yu: “Your Majesty…”

Yingluo, was it Chenbi who harbored such thoughts, or was it you? Hongli closed his eyes for a moment, then suddenly tossed the incense manual in his hand to Li Yu. “Burn it!”

Li Yu: “Yes, Your Majesty!”

The incense manual was burned, and the only piece of evidence pointing to Yanxi Palace vanished into smoke. Yet the spark of suspicion drifted into the depths of Hongli’s heart—he didn’t know whether he should suspect Chenbi or Wei Yingluo. Fortunately, at that moment a guard came to report urgent military affairs, which conveniently extricated him from the situation.

Hongli had barely left when Wei Yingluo arrived right after.

She hadn’t received the news too late, but neither had she come especially early, so she only hurried over at this moment. Seeing Chenbi lying weakly on the bed, she couldn’t help but sigh: “Chenbi, why did you go to such lengths?”

Chenbi lifted her sweat-drenched face and gave a playful smile: “A concubine who can no longer bear children—no longer a threat. The Empress won’t come after me anymore, and she won’t be able to drag you down either!”

Wei Yingluo: “You were far too reckless! Musk pills are for treating external wind-damp invasion and bodily pain—whoever said they cause infertility!”

Chenbi hesitated, then admitted: “It wasn’t just musk. I also added a bit of mercury to the pills.”

Wei Yingluo: “You—”

“On the grasslands, there were women who wore musk herbs year after year and became permanently infertile—so that’s how I came up with the idea.” Chenbi’s smile turned somewhat sly. “There, there, don’t make that face. No matter what the actual effect of the musk pills turns out to be, as long as everyone believes the Empress forced me to take them, that’s enough!”

Wei Yingluo stared at her for a long time: “You… why would you do this?”

This method was one that killed a thousand enemies while wounding oneself eight hundred. If it was merely to deal with the Step-Empress, wasn’t it far too shocking and extreme? Wei Yingluo asked herself whether she could ever do such a thing, and she couldn’t understand why Chenbi dared to go this far.

“Yingluo, for my sake, you were willing to make an enemy of the Empress.” Chenbi looked at her gently. “I won’t let you regret helping me. From now on, because of her own reputation, she will have to think twice before acting… You can finally be at ease.”

Just as she said, for a very long time afterward, the Step-Empress would have to watch her every word and deed. With the precedent of “forcing” a favored consort to take musk pills hanging over her, she would either do nothing at all—or if she did act, people would interpret her every move in the worst possible light.

Was this Chenbi’s goal? To tie the Step-Empress’s hands and feet, thereby granting freedom to everyone else? It certainly sounded like her style—just like the day she first used force and then reason, roping Yongcheng to a tree with a sheep-herding lasso before finally talking sense into him.

After a long silence, Wei Yingluo asked softly: “But… what if you really can never have children again?”

Chenbi replied indifferently: “Then I won’t have any!”

Wei Yingluo was both exasperated and amused: “Childish!”

“Having children hurts too much. I don’t want to hurt anymore.” Chenbi murmured dreamily.

Wei Yingluo froze: “What did you just say?”

“Did I say something?” Chenbi smiled again, innocent and guileless, as though the murmured words had been nothing more than Wei Yingluo’s imagination. She affectionately hugged Wei Yingluo’s arm. “I’m tired. Stay and sleep with me.”

Wei Yingluo was pestered by her until she had no choice. Remembering that Chenbi had ended up in this predicament because of her, after some reluctance and evasion, she finally nodded in agreement. The two lay down side by side, pressed close together—one leaning against the other—so that any outsider who saw them would surely think they were an inseparably intimate pair of sisters.

In the dead of night, at the third watch, Chenbi suddenly opened her eyes wide. Perhaps because of her foreign bloodline, her eyes gleamed with a faint green light in the darkness.

From outside came the faint sound of conversation. Both voices were deliberately hushed, but she could make out that it was Ming Yu speaking with Ye Tianshi. Chenbi listened for a moment, then silently removed the ankle bells from her feet and slipped off the bed.

She was skilled at dance, and thus masterful at controlling her body: she could make the bells all over her sing in harmony with her steps, or she could move so that her footsteps were as silent as a cat’s.

Barefoot and soundless, she drew near the two people outside the door. They remained completely unaware.

Ming Yu: “…Is there really no way to cure it? If it’s just missing some medicine…”

Ye Tianshi: “There is no medicine that can save her.”

“What should I do? How am I supposed to tell Yingluo?” Ming Yu murmured, her voice gradually taking on a sobbing tone. “She knows my family is poor, so she personally prepared my dowry for me. Even my wedding dress—she sewed it with her own hands. She said she wanted me to marry in grand style, but I… I…”

Chenbi listened quietly, her eyes sparkling brightly, like a child who had just heard a fascinating story.

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