Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 143: Seeing Off

Where there is a policy from above, there is a countermeasure from below.

On the surface, Erqing agreed to Fuheng’s words and moved to the family temple—yet she used the excuse that she was seriously injured and stubbornly refused to actually leave the Fucha residence.

Whenever Fuheng tried to urge her, she would clutch her forehead and wail dramatically, as if trying to summon every single person in the household to witness her misery—and his cruelty.

The Old Madam, Fuqian, Fukang’an… almost everyone stood on Erqing’s side.

It made Fuheng seem like the outsider.

Living in such a home had become unbearable. Since she refused to leave, it was Fuheng who began to feel estranged.

That day at court, Hongli looked around and said calmly:

“The Dzungar rebellion of the Greater and Lesser Khoja brothers—Afeng was sent to pacify them and was killed, an entire thousand-man Green Standard battalion was wiped out, General Zhaohui of the Border-Settling Army is trapped at Heishui Camp… Who is willing to go to the rescue?”

The entire court of civil and military officials remained silent; no one dared respond.

Only Fuheng stepped forward from the crowd, clasped his hands, and said:

“Your humble servant is willing to go!”

Brave in battle, fearless of death—by any measure, Fuheng was an excellent candidate. Yet precisely because of that, Hongli hesitated.

During the Jinchuan campaign, he had issued several urgent edicts but still could not summon him back from the battlefield.

In the end, he had survived.

But what about the next time? Would he return whole and intact?

If he did not return, how could Hongli face the late Empress beneath the Nine Springs…

   “This matter…” Hongli hesitated for a moment before finally rejecting the request. “We will discuss it again tomorrow.”

Unexpectedly, the situation took a turn the very next day at court—Hongli suddenly changed his mind:

   “Fuheng, the campaign against the Dzungars is entrusted to you!”

No one changes their mind so suddenly without reason.

Who had persuaded him?

Hailancha and Fuheng were the closest of friends, and he was also the most worried about his safety. On the way out after morning court, walking side by side, he rubbed his chin with his right hand and said:

“Fuheng, because of the battle in the Muslim regions, General Yarhashan of Jing-sui was dismissed from office, Commander Shun-de-na and Commander Ma Desheng were beheaded on the spot, and now even the brave and skilled General Zhaohui is trapped in the Black Water Camp. This time you’re heading far away to the Muslim regions—you absolutely must be careful.”

Fuheng: “I understand. Don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry!” Hailancha widened his eyes, curiosity filling them. “The Emperor clearly rejected your request—how did he change his mind overnight?”

Fuheng suddenly stopped walking, cupped his hands in salute, and stepped to the side of the path.

Hailancha turned to look and quickly followed him aside, also performing a cupped-hand salute.

Along the long corridor, Wei Yingluo’s ceremonial palanquin slowly passed by.

As they brushed past each other, she suddenly turned her head and gave Fuheng a mysterious smile.

To Hailancha’s surprise, Fuheng actually returned the smile.

Hailancha glanced at Wei Yingluo, then at him. Once the palanquin had passed, he immediately pulled Fuheng to one side, his expression grave:

“Brother, you cannot go astray! Think of your parents at home, think of your wife and children…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fuheng said calmly.

There was definitely something between these two! But Fuheng’s mouth was sealed too tightly, and it was impossible to go to Yanxi Palace and question the now-rising Consort Ling. What could he do?

   “I’ve got it!” Hailancha suddenly slapped his thigh. “I’ll go find Ming Yu!”

Compared to Wei Yingluo and Fuheng, Ming Yu was naturally much easier to deal with.

Or rather, between this pair of young lovers in the heat of passion, there were very few secrets. Most of the time, they were accustomed to sharing everything.

Sharing delicious food, sharing fine drinks, sharing each other’s worries, and sharing each other’s joys.

In the Imperial Guard station, Hailancha brought out a plate of fruit pastries to treat her, and casually asked:

“How has Her Ladyship been lately?”

“Very well!” Ming Yu popped a piece of candied fruit into her mouth and boasted with delight, eyebrows dancing. “Today at noon, the Emperor summoned our Ladyship to eat with him again.”

“Hey, what’s so special about that?” Hailancha pretended to pick a fight. “Which consort in the harem hasn’t eaten one or two meals with the Emperor?”

“It’s different,” Ming Yu shook her head. “When Her Ladyship came back, she brought the chef who prepared the meal along with her.”

“Ah?” This was completely unexpected to Hailancha.

“Not just the chef.” Ming Yu counted on her fingers for him. “Last month she took a brush washer, the day before yesterday a pocket watch, and yesterday she saw a jade bowl she liked and just took it away. In the entire Forbidden City, who else can do what our ladyship does? Whatever she wants, the Emperor gives it to her?”

Truly one of a kind, no one else like her.

“Consort Ling is truly something,” Hailancha couldn’t help but give a thumbs-up, then sighed. “Speaking of which, yesterday the Emperor clearly rejected Fuheng’s request to join the campaign, but today he suddenly changed his mind and agreed to let him go to war…”

Ming Yu blinked, then suddenly pushed his chest with her hand. “Aha! So after all this, you were just trying to get information out of me!”

Hailancha chuckled sheepishly but didn’t press her. If she wanted to answer, she would; if not, he wouldn’t force her.

He was only a little curious, after all!

   Ming Yu hesitated for a moment, then finally gave him an ambiguous reply:

“Our Ladyship is someone who repays kindness with kindness and enmity with enmity. Lord Fucha helped Her Ladyship fulfill a wish of hers, so… you understand, right?”

Hailancha was no fool. With the conversation brought this far, how could he not understand?

It was Fuheng who had helped Wei Yingluo fulfill her wish, and therefore Wei Yingluo was returning the favor by helping him fulfill his.

“Of all the women in the world, he had to fall for this one.” Hailancha thought to himself, “Fuheng, I really don’t know whether to call you fortunate or unfortunate…”

A beauty is easy to find; a true confidante is hard to come by.

   To find someone who is both a beauty and a confidante — that is a stroke of three-lives’ worth of luck, to meet such a person in this lifetime.

   “Huh? Now that I think about it, Yanxi Palace is in a completely different direction — it’s not even on the way. How could we have run into her by chance?” Hailancha suddenly realized something else and sighed inwardly. “So this meeting today wasn’t accidental at all. She deliberately came to see you off, Fuheng… You really are an unfortunate fellow!”

Three-lives’ fortune — to have won you alone.

   Yet in the end, one turned left and one turned right, walking in opposite directions. If they must part, why meet at all? If there is no fate between them, why make vows?

“You’re back?”

Inside Yanxi Palace, Wei Yingluo was arranging flowers in a basin.

“I’m back.” Ming Yu closed the door behind her, walked over, and casually handed her a sprig of jasmine.

Wei Yingluo reached out to take it, trying first one angle, then another, before finally tucking the jasmine at her chest. She sighed: “I used to watch the Empress arrange flowers and found it so pleasing to the eye no matter what she did. But the flowers I arrange myself — they really are ugly!”

Ming Yu burst out laughing: “That’s exactly why the Emperor calls you vulgar!”

Wei Yingluo smiled: “Calligraphy, painting, qin music — all of those can be improved through practice later in life. But taste and bearing… those take years of immersion from birth in a great household. I grew up in the marketplace, so naturally I can’t compare.”

Ming Yu: “Then why are you still practicing?”

After studying the flower basin carefully for a moment, Wei Yingluo finally chose a spot and inserted the jasmine there: “If I can’t match her in one day, then I’ll try for a year. If not a year, then ten. Even if I lack natural talent, diligence can make up for clumsiness. I don’t need to master qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting to perfection — but when the Emperor asks about them, I can’t just stand there like a blind fool!”

Noble Consort Chun would never — and would never want to — learn her kind of vulgarity. But she herself could learn the other’s elegance. Elegance sets the bar too high, vulgarity too low. Only a balance of elegance and vulgarity together is truly the most appealing to people.

“Master.” Xiaoquanzi’s voice suddenly came from behind her. “It’s been taken care of.”

Wei Yingluo was startled at the words. She turned quickly, unable to hide the delighted surprise in her eyes: “Brother!”

A stunningly beautiful eunuch stood behind her. When he smiled, it was as if the heavens and earth lost their color.

It was Yuan Chunwang!

“Brother!” Wei Yingluo hurried forward to meet him, running so fast she nearly lost a shoe. “I thought you wouldn’t come…”

Yuan Chunwang flicked her lightly on the forehead with his finger — an intimate gesture as though they had never fallen out: “If I don’t come, who will? Even from as far away as the Yuanmingyuan, I heard you got into trouble. Your brother had no choice but to come and clean up after you.”

Wei Yingluo rubbed her forehead, warmth flooding her heart. Earlier, when Hongli had neglected her, most of the palace servants in Yanxi Palace had scattered to seek better prospects. Only Ming Yu and Xiaoquanzi had stayed. Now that she had regained favor and been promoted to Consort Ling, she had no interest in those fair-weather servants. Hongli had given her permission to select new people from anywhere in the palace. The very first person she thought of was Yuan Chunwang.

With her current favor and status, transferring someone from the Yuanmingyuan was extremely easy.

The only fear had been that he might refuse to come.

She had tried with a heart full of apprehension — and unexpectedly received such a wonderful outcome.

“Master!” Xiaoquanzi shot a wary glance at Yuan Chunwang and quickly tried to vie for attention: “The Emperor sent someone to deliver a set of riding attire. He says tomorrow he will personally take you riding!”

“Riding?” Wei Yingluo’s attention shifted to him.

Xiaoquanzi beamed with pride: “Yes! In the future the Emperor wants to bring Master to participate in the Mulan Autumn Hunt — naturally she has to learn to ride a horse first!”

“Riding… riding a horse…” Yingluo savored the words slowly, then suddenly smiled. “Xiaoquanzi — spread the word that tomorrow the Emperor will personally teach me how to ride!”

Xiaoquanzi was stunned. Beside him, Ming Yu quickly stopped her: “That wouldn’t be good, would it? Right now you’re so favored in the palace—the consorts all hate you to the bone. If this news spreads further, won’t it be like pouring oil on the fire?”

Wei Yingluo let out a short laugh, half-smiling, half-sneering: “I just love watching them turn green with envy, stamping their feet in fury, yet completely powerless to do anything about it… Go. Do exactly as I said.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 142: Not Leaving

   Erqing raised her eyes and smiled at Fuheng. “Fuheng, what kind of joke are you playing?”

“You sold Qinglian to a private brothel,” Fuheng said, staring at her.

Erqing’s expression changed drastically. “Where is she?”

“She has already swallowed gold and taken her own life,” Fuheng replied.

What chilled Fuheng to the core was that, upon hearing this news, Erqing actually sighed of relief and broke into a smile again: “So what? You’re going to divorce me, your principal wife, over a mere maidservant?”

A human life, in her eyes, was no different from a blade of grass.

And she could still laugh!

A coldness settled in Fuheng’s heart. He spoke gravely: “The seven grounds for divorce include adultery, jealousy, and excessive talking. You have violated three of them. I can no longer tolerate this. Pack your things at once and leave the Fucha residence!”

Finally realizing he was not joking, Erqing gradually wiped the smile from her face. She gave a subtle glance to Dujuan standing nearby. Dujuan slipped silently out the door. Erqing stepped to the table, picked up the letter of divorce.

Rip, rip, rip—

The divorce document was slowly torn to pieces in her hands.

“Since I married into the Fucha family, I will never leave.” She let go, and the fragments fluttered to the floor. Erqing raised an eyebrow defiantly. “You want to divorce me? Fine — but only if I die!”

“You clearly can’t bear to die, yet you keep death on the tip of your tongue.” Fuheng’s contempt for her deepened. “You ask why I want to divorce you. I’d rather ask you — why did you go so far as to harm Qinglian?”

At the mention of the name, Erqing let out a scornful snort.

Fuheng frowned: “What are you laughing at?”

“I’m just remembering how things were back in the Forbidden City. With one word from her mistress, a servant could lose her life… no reason needed, simply because it pleased the mistress.” Erqing sighed with feeling.

Precisely because she had witnessed so many such scenes, a sense of crisis had taken root in her. No matter what she had to employ, she was determined to become a mistress herself — never again a servant.

She wanted to control other people’s fates, not have hers controlled by others!

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Erqing felt no regret over causing Qinglian’s death. When a mistress orders a servant to die, what fault could there be? She merely thought Fuheng was making a mountain out of a molehill. But since he was the head of the household, Erqing softened her tone to placate him: “Besides, Qinglian tried to harm the young master. What happened to her was simply reaping what she sowed.”

“Even now, when things have come to this, you still refuse to repent and instead sling mud at a dead woman?” Fuheng said coldly.

“Fine then — you don’t believe your own principal wife, but you believe a seductive fox instead?” Erqing clicked her tongue twice. “And you still claim there was nothing between you two? Pah! That cheap slut belonged in a secret brothel. Dying so soon was letting her off too lightly!”

Fuheng involuntarily closed his eyes.

“Enough.” He truly could no longer bear to look at this woman’s face or hear her voice. “Pack your belongings.”

Erqing was silent for a moment: “You… are really going to drive me out?”

Fuheng: “You leave today.”

“How can you be so heartless?” Erqing gritted her teeth. “No, I won’t go. I am the young madam of the Fucha residence. I’m not going anywhere!”

Fuheng didn’t even want to touch her. He called toward the door. Immediately two sturdy mamas entered. At Fuheng’s command, they seized Erqing from either side: “Young Madam, forgive the offense!”

“She is no longer the young madam,” Fuheng announced coldly. “Take her away!”

“Lord Fucha Fuheng, you’ve gone mad — you’ve truly gone mad!” Erqing struggled wildly. “I won’t go! I’ll die before I leave! Let go! How dare you servants lay hands on me — let go!”

Erqing went berserk, her sharp nails clawing toward the mamas’ eyes. One mama, caught off guard, received a bloody scratch at the corner of her eye. Furious and humiliated, she thought to herself that this woman was no longer the young madam anyway. She immediately tightened her grip, causing Erqing to cry out in pain.

“Stop this at once!”

The door opened. The Old Madam entered, supported by Dujuan’s arm. Seeing the scene, she trembled with rage: “Fuheng, what exactly are you doing to your wife?”

“Your Ladyship!” Erqing broke free from the two people and threw herself into her arms, sobbing, “Fuheng wants to divorce me because of Qinglian!”

“Mother, Qinglian is dead.” Fuheng said coldly. “She was sent by this woman into a secret brothel, suffered every kind of torment, and finally swallowed gold to end her life.”

“Fuheng! Qinglian was merely a maidservant!” The people of the Fucha household were furious beyond measure. “Moreover, you have only just entered the Grand Council—do you truly intend to throw away your official career over this?”

Qinglian might be pitiable, but the old madam cared far more about her son’s future. She did not want this incident to ruin Fuheng’s prospects.

Especially since Fuheng had entered the Grand Council at such a young age—countless eyes were already watching him, waiting for him to slip up. Divorcing a wife could be a major or minor matter, but if he really divorced his principal wife over a mere maidservant, once word got out, he would surely be impeached for failing to govern his household properly.

If a man cannot even manage his own family affairs, how can he manage affairs of state?

Fuheng clearly understood this, yet he still shook his head: “If the family tradition is not upright, how can one serve as an official? Someone, help Mother back to rest!”

Erqing and the old madam were instantly dumbfounded.

The old madam had been brought here by Erqing as her last reinforcement. She had assumed that Fuheng, being so filial, no matter how unwilling he felt inside, would still give her some face for the old madam’s sake and let her off.

Hadn’t it been that way before? Because the old madam had spoken up, he had silently allowed her to marry Erqing out of the household!

But why wasn’t it working this time?

“No—don’t!” Erqing said in panic and confusion. “Your Ladyship, don’t go—Your Ladyship, Your ladyship, save me, save me!”

The old madam was naturally on her side, but having made one mistake already, Fuheng would not allow himself to make the same mistake twice. In his view, if he had not been so weak the last time—if he had not known it was wrong yet still obeyed the old madam—Qinglian would not have met such an end…

To prevent the same tragedy from happening again, better a short, sharp pain than prolonged suffering—he must drive this vicious woman out!

“Wah!” A child’s crying suddenly rang out.

It turned out that Fuqian had arrived, carrying little Fukang’an in his arms.

Seeing his own mother being bullied, the young Fukang’an couldn’t help but purse his lips and start crying on her behalf.

Erqing saw him as her very last lifeline. She scrambled over on hands and knees, reached out, and pulled him into her arms. Mother and son together cried toward Fuheng: “An’er cannot be separated from his mother—he needs me! Fuheng, don’t drive me away!”

Fuheng said with disgust: “Having a mother like you to teach him by word and example would be greatly detrimental to his upbringing. Someone! Take the young master away!”

Two wet-nurses came forward and pulled the last straw of hope from Erqing’s arms.

Erqing collapsed to the ground and wailed loudly. Fuqian, seeing this, could not bear it and also tried to persuade: “Third Brother, you are really going too far. How can you treat your principal wife like this?”

“You feel sorry for her?” Fuheng found it laughable. “Then have you personally witnessed the smug, hideous expression on her face when she took an innocent life? Do you know how heartbroken Qinglian’s parents must be—white-haired people burying off black-haired ones? After studying the classics of the sages for so many years, is this all you’ve learned—failure to distinguish right from wrong, inability to tell black from white?”

Fuqian was rendered speechless.

To anyone watching, it was clear that today Fuheng was dead set on divorcing his wife. Even if the gods and Buddhas on the altar spoke up, they probably could not change his mind.

But how could Erqing accept being reduced to such a state?

A flash of desperate ruthlessness passed through her eyes. She suddenly raised her head and said: “Fuheng, I told you—even if I die, I will be carried out of the Fucha family gates. You will never, ever be rid of me!”

With that, she suddenly hurled herself headfirst toward the wall!

Blood gushed like a pillar!

“Wah!” Fukang’an burst into loud sobs in the wet-nurse’s arms, reaching desperately toward her: “Mother! Mother!”

The room was in complete chaos. Someone rushed over shouting her name, someone else dashed out to call for a doctor.

Blood slowly spread across Erqing’s face from her forehead, just like the red bridal veil she had worn on her wedding day. Fuqian forcefully restrained the urge to rush forward, turned to Fuheng and said:

“Third Brother, ‘upholding righteousness over personal ties’ may feel satisfying, but are you really going to force your lawfully wedded wife to her death for the sake of a maidservant? If she actually dies in the Fucha residence today, forget whether the Xitara clan will seek revenge—aren’t you afraid of ruining the Fucha family’s reputation?”

“Erqing, wake up, wake up!” The Old Madam sat on the floor, stroking and clutching Erqing’s hand:

“Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, Fuheng will absolutely not be allowed to divorce you!”

As if she had been waiting precisely for those words, Erqing slowly opened her eyes. Her breathing faint and weak, she murmured:

“Mother… I won’t go… I won’t leave…”

Fuqian’s words had failed to move Fuheng, but they had moved the Old Madam.

Whether for the sake of her son’s official career or for the reputation of the Fucha family, she could not allow Fuheng to divorce his wife!

“Fuheng, this is the most disappointed I has ever been in you.” The Old Madam slowly turned her head, looking at Fuheng with a face full of pain. “For the sake of one woman, you have gone to such absurd extremes! Even if Erqing truly forced a maid to her death—so what? She was merely a plaything; no one would take it seriously! Erqing is your legitimate wife, carried in through the main gate in a grand red bridal sedan. No matter how many faults she has, you should forgive her!”

Seeing that he remained unmoved, the Old Madam gritted her teeth and added:

“If you force her to leave, then I will leave too! The two of us will depart this heartless house together!”

Hearing his own mother utter such harsh words, Fuheng let out a helpless sigh and slowly said:

“I can refrain from divorcing her.”

Erqing, who had been resting her head on a maidservant’s lap with a cloth pressed to her forehead, heard this and the corners of her lips involuntarily curved upward—only for his next words to follow:

“From this day forward, she will reside in the family temple, eating vegetarian meals and chanting sutras for the rest of her life, to atone for her sins!”

The smile froze on Erqing’s lips. With great difficulty she struggled to sit up, but all she saw was the back of Fuheng as he swept his sleeve and departed.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 141: Letter of Divorce

By the time Fuheng hurried to the main hall, the room was already packed with people, some sitting, some standing.

His gaze swept over the crowd once, but Qinglian was nowhere to be seen. Fuheng quickly asked,

“Mother, where is Qinglian?”

“Why are you still mentioning her?” Lady Fucha’s face was still flushed with lingering anger. “At first I saw that the girl had delicate features and a gentle disposition, and I even considered raising her status. Who would have thought she would develop wild ideas because of it and actually push An’er into the water!”

Fuheng: “Mother, Qinglian is not that kind of person.”

Erqing, who had been massaging Lady Fucha’s back, stopped her movements and said,

“I saw it with my own eyes, and you’re still defending her!”

Fuheng gave her a cold glance. Of everyone present, she was the one he trusted the least. But because she had borne a son and “a mother is valued because of her child,” she was deeply favored by the Old Madam. Very well—Fuheng simply pretended not to see her and asked,

“Where is Qinglian now?”

Lady Fucha: “Sold!”

Fuheng’s expression changed slightly. Erqing hurriedly spoke up:

“Fuheng, don’t take Mother’s angry words seriously. Mother has always been kind to the servants. Even if Qinglian made a mistake, she was only sent back to her family.”

Fuheng was skeptical: “Really?”

Seeing him repeatedly doubting Erqing, Lady Fucha grew angry:

“If Erqing hadn’t pleaded for her, she would have been beaten to death long ago! How could she have gotten off so lightly!”

Fuheng was extremely puzzled—Erqing actually pleading for someone?

“People can change,” Erqing said, noticing his confusion. She sighed and spoke with utmost sincerity:

“For example, Qinglian. As she grew older, she gradually developed other ideas. Now that I’ve sent her away and let her parents arrange another marriage for her—isn’t that better?”

Fuheng was still somewhat doubtful: “Is that so?”

“As long as you have no intention of taking her as a concubine, I will not only not make things difficult for her, I will even add a dowry for her—consider it fulfilling her loyalty to you.” Erqing spoke with firm assurance. “The same goes for me. As long as you are willing to live well together, I can also change for the better, become the kind of person you like. I promise.”

Fuheng fell silent. He was not a man with high demands—he only wanted harmony at home and all things prospering. Although he disliked Erqing, his parents both favored her. If she could truly reform from now on and become a virtuous wife, then perhaps he could make an effort to forget the things from before. Thinking of this, he sighed and said:

“…Do as you say. Add a dowry for her.”

A small sedan chair carried Qinglian out of the mansion. With one worry resolved, Fuheng turned his attention back to work. As a high minister of the court and a trusted confidant of the Emperor, social engagements were unavoidable. That day after court, a military affairs clerk earnestly invited him to drink flower wine.

“No, thank you.” Fuheng smiled and declined. “The Great Qing Code hangs over our heads—we can’t afford sixty strokes of the cane. Besides, even if we wanted to drink, there’s hardly anywhere to go anymore. With His Majesty’s strict orders, the pleasure houses and singing-girl establishments in the capital have almost disappeared…”

He had barely finished speaking when a woman suddenly rushed toward the carriage. The coachman couldn’t stop in time. The fine horse neighed, reared up, and its front hooves struck the woman. She let out a sharp scream and rolled on the ground, then lay still.

Fuheng quickly alighted from the carriage. Seeing two men crouching beside the woman, he asked,

“Who is she to you?”

The two men were dressed in short jackets, clearly looking like Green Gang enforcers. They had originally intended to extort a large sum from Fuheng, but upon seeing his official robes, their courage instantly deflated. They fawned and said,

“She’s just a girl from our establishment. Ugly face, not worth much money—not worth much at all.”

Hearing them equate a living person to silver, Fuheng couldn’t help but frown.

The military clerk beside him, a frequent patron of such places, understood the situation better. He leaned close to Fuheng’s ear and whispered:

“What they call an ‘establishment’ is a private, underground brothel. This girl was probably sold outright, body and life. Give them a few taels and the matter will be settled.”

Fuheng shook his head, untied the money pouch at his waist, and tossed it to the enforcers:

“One human life. Make sure she gets proper medical treatment.”

The enforcers opened the pouch, saw the contents, and beamed with joy, thanking him profusely. Unable to stand their obsequious manner, Fuheng turned to get back into the carriage—when from behind came an extremely faint voice:

“Young Master…”

A familiar voice made Fuheng’s footsteps halt. He whipped around and looked at the woman lying on the ground, barely clinging to life. In shock, he exclaimed, “Qinglian?”

Fucha Residence, guest room.

   The doctor had just left. In the kitchen, medicine was being decocted. Fuheng summoned the steward, his expression shifting unpredictably between light and shadow:

“What exactly happened?”

“Young Master, it was this servant’s negligence,” the steward said with a face full of guilt. “This servant only just found out—the Young Madam merely pretended to arrange a good marriage for Qinglian on the surface. As soon as the bridal sedan left the city, it was swapped for a small sedan chair and sent directly to a private brothel.”

Fuheng’s face grimed like still water. He nearly crushed the armrest of the chair in his grip. Suddenly, a panicked cry came from beside him:

“Young Master! Young Master, something terrible has happened! Qinglian swallowed gold!”

The doctor, who had only just stepped out the door, was urgently summoned back. With tremendous effort and by using a precious hundred-year-old ginseng root from the storeroom, he barely managed to pull Qinglian back from the brink of death.

“This humble one has done all he can,” the doctor said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “But in the end, this is merely the last radiance before darkness. Lord Fucha, if there is anything you wish to say to her, you had best do so soon.”

Fuheng remained silent for a long moment before finally nodding.

The door closed behind him. Fuheng slowly sat down beside the bed and looked at the woman lying there. The once pure and lotus-like face now bore a long, ugly scar—this wound had been given to her by Erqing. On her body were countless other injuries, longer and deeper than this one, inflicted by many, many men.

Yet the true culprit was still Erqing.

“Young Master…” Qinglian suddenly turned away, facing the wall as she sobbed. “Don’t look at this servant. A filthy person like me will dirty your eyes.”

Fuheng’s heart ached. “No, you are not dirty.”

“Young Master…” Qinglian called him again, her voice extremely gentle and filled with sorrow. “Every time I call you Young Master, your expression becomes so tender. At first, this servant also harbored hope… But one day, I suddenly understood—you only wanted to hear those two words, ‘Young Master,’ isn’t that right?”

Fuheng stared at her with wide eyes.

No one knew why he had always treated Qinglian differently from the others. It was not because of her serene beauty, nor because of her graceful figure—only because of her voice.

…A voice almost identical to Wei Yingluo’s.

“All this time, everyone thought I belonged to you; Young Master, but they were all wrong.” That voice now sounded right beside his ear, carrying a humble plea. “Young Master, you have been thinking of one person, longing for one person—there has never been anyone else in your eyes. Now, I have only one wish. Could you… hold my hand? Could you… call my name just once?”

Could you, after I have served as a substitute for so long, finally open your eyes and look at me, and remember my name? My name is Qinglian.

   “Qinglian.” Fuheng called her name and took her pale, emaciated hand in his.

He held it until that hand completely lost its warmth and grew ice-cold in his grasp.

“Fuheng!”

The door burst open. Having received word from the servants, Erqing hurriedly ended that day’s tea gathering and rushed back from outside. Her gaze swept over and landed on Qinglian inside the bed curtains. Instantly, undisguised disgust appeared on her face.

“This lowly maid…”

“You’re back.” Fuheng’s voice was extremely faint and extremely cold. “The document is written. It’s on the table.”

What document?

   Erqing walked suspiciously to the table and saw a letter lying there.

   On the envelope, in stark black ink on white paper, were two characters:

   Divorce

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 140: Struggle at Court

That day, Fuheng was summoned by Hongli to Yangxin Hall for discussions.

Unexpectedly, someone was waiting for him on the path he had to take to reach Yangxin Hall.

Upon seeing her, Fuheng paused for a moment, then respectfully stepped aside, cupping his hands in greeting.

“I just received news today — Concubine Ling has been promoted to Consort Ling.” Noble Consort Chun walked slowly toward him, smiling. “Lord Fucha, is this good news for you… or bad news?”

Fuheng grew wary inside, but his expression remained calm and unmoved.

“It must be good news, I suppose,” Noble Consort Chun said with a cold laugh. “After all… her promotion to consort is entirely thanks to you!”

Fuheng finally spoke, his voice icy: “Noble Consort Chun, please watch your words.”

“Isn’t what I said the truth?” Noble Consort Chun was an intelligent woman. Though she hadn’t understood at first, gradually everything became clear to her afterward — including the role Fuheng had played in it all.

Once she understood, the realization filled her heart with both bitterness and jealousy.

“Lord Fucha Fuheng, in looks, family background, talent, and the devotion I’ve shown you — in every way I surpass her. So why do you insist on favoring only her?” Noble Consort Chun could no longer hold back; every word dripped with pain as she questioned him. “You even went so far as to risk yourself to help her… Tell me — why?”

Yuhu looked around nervously. The other palace servants had already pretended to be blind and mute, heads lowered in silence, as if they had heard and seen nothing.

“Noble Consort Chun,” Fuheng said coolly, “please remember your position. Do not ask questions that only bring humiliation upon yourself. This humble official takes his leave.”

As he turned to go, a cold voice came from behind: “Don’t celebrate too soon. Even if Wei Yingluo becomes Consort Ling, she will never block my path!”

Fuheng paused for a moment, then continued walking toward Yangxin Hall without looking back.

Yangxin Hall, West Warm Chamber.

   “Your Majesty.” Fuheng made no mention whatsoever of the encounter with Noble Consort Chun. He simply reported on state affairs with utmost respect: “Regarding the case of Anning, Supervisor of the Hushu Customs Pass, embezzling customs duties — this servant has thoroughly investigated. During his three years managing Hushu Pass, for every tael of pingyin silver actually collected at two fen five li, he falsely reported only one fen five li. Over his tenure he repeatedly withheld funds for sacrificial offerings, bridge and cable maintenance, silver chest fees, and clothing and hat silver from various ports — totaling more than eight thousand taels. The detailed accounts are clearly set out in this servant’s memorial! Such a corrupt worm — if he is not executed, the people’s anger cannot be appeased!”

“Your Majesty, this younger brother does not agree with Lord Fucha’s view.” A voice that was both dark and soft rang out.

Fuheng looked toward the sound and met the eyes of Prince He, Hongzhou.

“Lord Fucha is too young. It is good to be ambitious and enterprising, but your understanding of the customs offices… seems rather limited.” Hongzhou smiled at Fuheng. “Under Anning there are 68 yamen runners and 79 family retainers. These hundred-odd people assist in managing the customs office, yet they are not on the court’s official roster. Anning raised the tax rate precisely to cover these expenses.”

“How ridiculous. Just to cover expenses, he can arbitrarily increase taxes?” Fuheng replied coldly. “Do you realize that while Anning has lightened the burden on the customs office, he has increased the burden on the common people? If everyone imitates him and raises taxes at will, how are the people supposed to survive?”

Hongzhou: “Lord Fucha, you may have a way with warfare, but when it comes to governance, you are far behind! When the water is too clear, no fish can live in it. Are you asking the customs runners to drink the northwest wind?”

The two argued until their faces were flushed. Finally, Hongli waved his hand: “Enough, stop arguing! Even if Anning has his hardships, the fact remains that he handled matters improperly. I will issue an edict severely reprimanding him. However, the situation at Hushu Pass is complicated; we cannot easily replace him. For now, let him continue managing it. If there is any further concealment, he will be severely punished along with everything else!”

“Your Majesty is wise!” Hongzhou said, while casting a smug glance at Fuheng.

Fuheng frowned: “Your Majesty…”

Hongli closed his eyes: “You are dismissed. Kneel and retire.”

Fuheng and Hongzhou left Yangxin Hall. After walking side by side for a few steps, Fuheng suddenly spoke: “Prince He, even if you have grievances against me, you shouldn’t speak up for a parasite like Anning.”

Hongzhou: “Didn’t I already say? Anning has his own difficulties.”

Fuheng gave a short, mocking laugh, a trace of sarcasm flickering in his eyes: “Prince He still doesn’t know, does he? Anning privately owns six estates and hundreds of qing of land.”

Hongzhou was stunned.

“The Jiangnan corruption case—Wangye handled it very beautifully. I was also pleased to see you willing to handle affairs seriously.” Fuheng spoke slowly. “Just now I did not expose it in public only because I did not wish to see you suffer another setback and fall into despair once more.”

Fuheng valued old ties—not only the affection between husband and wife, but also the bond of childhood friends. They had studied together, practiced martial arts together, and grown up together. Even though their paths had diverged in adulthood, a trace of that old affection still remained.

Hongzhou, however, was different. Once their paths had parted, he believed any former sentiment should be severed cleanly. He sneered coldly: “Do you think I will be grateful to you for this?”

“I do not need your gratitude.” Fuheng shook his head. “But this is the last time. Please do not use the interests of the state as a bargaining chip just to target me!”

When Hongzhou heard this, the flesh on his cheek involuntarily twitched.

Women fight for favor in the harem; men fight for favor in the court.

Both were favored ministers before Hongli. Whose opinion the Emperor listened to more determined their power and status—and to a certain extent, even the future direction of the country.

The ways of contending for favor were exactly the same as in the harem: on the surface, each relied on their own abilities, comparing literary talent, military strategy, depth of character, and political scheming; behind the scenes… it was naturally a matter of tripping each other up, exposing weaknesses, and using every possible means to drag the other down from their current position.

Earlier, when Hongzhou kept saying “Lord Fucha knows little about the customs offices” and “Lord Fucha, you may be good at warfare, but you are far inferior in governance,” belittling Fuheng into nothing more than a martial brute who only knew how to ride and fight—that was precisely the second method.

Fuheng disdained such underhanded tactics. He spoke openly and uprightly: “Hongzhou, you must remember firmly that you are the Prince He of Great Qing. You carry a heavy responsibility on your shoulders. No matter the time, to vent personal resentment and forget public righteousness will only make others look down on you!”

Watching Fuheng’s figure leave with a flick of his sleeve, Hongzhou’s expression became extremely ugly.

“What did he notice?” Hongzhou thought darkly. “Otherwise… why would he talk about ‘venting personal resentment’?”

Fuheng had absolutely no idea that because of his words, Hongzhou’s suspicion toward him had deepened even further. After leaving the palace, he soon returned home. He tossed the reins to the steward who came out to meet him. Fuheng found it strange: “Why are you personally coming out to greet me?”

The Fucha residence was a large household with great responsibilities. Managing such a family was no easier than managing a harem. A trivial task like taking the horse should not have fallen to the steward himself.

“Young Master, you’re finally back!” The steward had clearly been waiting deliberately at the gate. His voice was urgent as he said, “Qinglian has met with trouble. The young madam claims she pushed the little young master into the goldfish pond. She has now been taken away by the Old Madam.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 139: The Struggle in the Harem

   With so many women in the harem and only one heart belonging to the Emperor, winning that heart was truly like two armies facing each other—every possible tactic was exhausted.

“Your Majesty.” Li Yu said respectfully, “Your Majesty, Noble Consort Chun has come several times. She says the case of the palace market fencing stolen goods has been thoroughly investigated and she requests Your Majesty’s judgment.”

This matter concerned not only the reputation of the harem but also involved disaster relief funds and other affairs—it could be considered quite significant. Hongli put down his brush and said: “Let’s go, to Zhongcui Palace to take a look!”

Li Yu: “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The imperial palanquin left from Yangxin Hall. As it passed along the corridor, a sudden sound of bells rang out. Hongli raised his head and saw a kite soaring high in the sky.

It was a colorful mandarin duck kite, with a small golden bell hanging from its tail, tinkling crisply in the wind.

For some reason—whether the person flying it suddenly let go or the string broke—the kite swayed unsteadily in the air for a moment, then suddenly plummeted and fell not far from Hongli.

Hongli: “Bring it to me to see.”

Li Yu hurriedly went forward and retrieved the kite.

Hongli took it in his hands and saw that on the back of the kite was written a short sanqu lyric:

“Long silk thread sent to the ends of the earth,

   Letting it fly free is still in my hands.

   Paper body dressed up, no attachments left,

   Let the wild wind tear it wherever it will.

   String broken at the corner of the sea and sky,

   Cannot reel it back in, cannot see him anymore,

   Who knows in whose home he now drifts?”

   At the very end, there was also a clumsily drawn orchid flower.

The corners of Hongli’s mouth couldn’t help but curve upward. Her calligraphy had been taught to her personally by the Empress, her painting had been taught to her personally by him—how could he not recognize it?

“Let’s go.” Hongli folded the kite away. “To Yanxi Palace.”

Li Yu was stunned: “Then Noble Consort Chun…”

Hongli: “Tell Noble Consort Chun that I will see her tomorrow.”

In this battle, Wei Yingluo won with her very first move. Noble Consort Chun had spent who knows how much money and effort setting up that Jiangnan market, only to be defeated by a single small kite. She was so furious her teeth itched, yet she was utterly helpless.

The next evening, she dressed and prepared early. She placed a chessboard on the table in the sleeping chamber, then lit a stick of orchid incense in the silver corner censer. Wisps of smoke curled upward, filling the room with delicate fragrance.

Yuhu kept going out for a moment, then coming back in, appearing quite restless and unable to sit still:

“Yesterday the Emperor said he was coming, but then changed his route and went to Yanxi Palace instead. He won’t fail to come again today, will he?”

Noble Consort Chun shot her a glare, chiding her for saying something inauspicious:

“The Emperor said he would come today, so he will certainly come.”

Realizing she had unintentionally annoyed her mistress, Yuhu hurriedly smiled apologetically:

“Yes, yes. Your Ladyship has meticulously prepared the chess formation, and went to great lengths to obtain the calligraphy model the Emperor loves most. You will surely be able to keep His Majesty here!”

If one were to say that Wei Yingluo captivated with her “vulgarity,” then Noble Consort Chun captivated with her “elegance.”

zither, chess, calligraphy, painting; strings and pipes; plum, orchid, bamboo, chrysanthemum—the hall of great refinement.

Noble Consort Chun faintly furrowed her brows. She did not believe her own “elegance” would lose to Wei Yingluo’s “vulgarity,” yet she helplessly discovered that His Majesty Hongli spent fewer and fewer days in Zhongcui Palace, and more and more days going to Yanxi Palace—just like all the ordinary people in the world: occasionally enjoying strings and pipes, but most of the time still having to deal with firewood, rice, oil, and salt—the mundane necessities of life.

“His Majesty arrives!”

Noble Consort Chun snapped back to the present and quickly stepped out to greet him:

“This concubine respectfully wishes Your Majesty well.”

Hongli raised his hand in a gesture to dispense with formalities:

“No need for ceremony.”

A palace servant brought tea. Noble Consort Chun received it and personally carried it to Hongli:

“Your Majesty, regarding the chess move you left unresolved last time, this concubine has already figured out a way to break it.”

But Hongli had not come to discuss chess with her. He smiled and said:

“You said the palace market case has been thoroughly investigated. I want to hear exactly what happened.”

Hearing his true purpose, Noble Consort Chun felt secret delight in her heart.

There are two ways to compete for favor in the harem: one is open and aboveboard, the other is in the shadows. The open method is straightforward—each relying on her own abilities, whether vulgar or refined, to vie for the Emperor’s favor. The hidden method… naturally involves slander, defamation, and using every possible means to destroy the opponent.

As long as the other party no longer exists, naturally no one will compete with you for favor.

“Your Majesty,” Noble Consort Chun immediately began, “the palace market was something I personally arranged with great care, solely to please the Empress Dowager. Yet in the end it became a place to dispose of stolen goods. This is clearly someone deliberately framing me!”

Hongli gave an “oh” and asked:

“Who would want to frame you?”

Noble Consort Chun’s eyes brimmed with tears as she spoke in a wronged tone:

“This concubine holds the position of Noble Consort and has given birth to the Sixth Prince… it makes me an easy obstacle for newly arrived concubines who wish to rise!”

Hongli lightly tapped the armrest of his chair, smiling yet not quite smiling:

“Newly arrived concubines?”

Dong dong dong.

Faint but distinct, wave after wave of drumming came from outside the palace. Hongli’s gaze flicked toward the direction of the sound.

On the other side, Noble Consort Chun had already stepped forward and gently clutched the corner of Hongli’s robe, pleading sorrowfully:

“Your Majesty, this concubine has been unjustly accused. I am truly deeply wronged. I can only beg Your Majesty to uphold justice for me…”

“Mm, mm.” Hongli responded absent-mindedly, as though answering her words—or perhaps answering the drumming outside.

Drums are not like the sound of the qin. Such a vulgar thing always appears in places crowded with people: on theater stages, during lion dances, at lantern markets and flower festivals. Suddenly Hongli stood up, walked to the window, pushed it open and looked out. In the night sky, a Kongming lantern slowly rose—its light like fire, like the brightest star in the heavens.

Behind him, Noble Consort Chun was still murmuring on:

“Also, Your Majesty…”

Hongli suddenly raised his hand to stop her:

“I have other matters to attend to. We’ll talk next time!”

With that, without even glancing back at her, he strode swiftly out of the palace gate.

That lantern, that drum—they were guiding his path forward.

One after another, Kongming lanterns rose into the sky, hanging there, forming a brilliant silver river.

Gradually, Hongli began to hear snippets of private conversation among the palace maids and eunuchs.

“Did you hear that? It’s drumming!”

“It seems to have drifted over from the sky lanterns.”

“How is this done?”

“You’re curious? Go ask Her Ladyship Concubine Ling! These sky lanterns that make such strange musical sounds—she made them herself, didn’t she?”

In the Imperial Garden, at some point a large crowd of palace maids and eunuchs had gathered. One of them was just about to speak when he suddenly caught sight of a figure in bright imperial yellow approaching. Startled, he quickly dropped to his knees and said, “This servant respectfully greets Your Majesty!”

The other palace servants turned to look, and one after another they also knelt down: “This servant respectfully greets Your Majesty!”

If the people of the world are as numerous as the stars, then Hongli was the sole moon.

Wherever he went, that place became the center of the night sky.

All the stars bowed their heads beneath his radiance… except for one star.

Wei Yingluo paid no attention at all. She lit another sky lantern, held it in both hands, and was just about to release it when a hand reached over from the side and took the lantern from her.

Tilting her head, Wei Yingluo looked at him strangely. “Didn’t Your Majesty go to Zhongcui Palace? Why are you back here again?”

The lantern flame flickered; the soft orange glow reflected on Hongli’s face. He smiled coyishly. “Wasn’t it you who deliberately lured me here?”

Yingluo smiled sweetly. “Your Majesty really knows how to joke. I was simply bored out of my mind and made a few sky lanterns for amusement, that’s all.”

Hongli toyed with the sky lantern in his hand for a moment. Sure enough, strange sounds came from inside—first it sounded like the beating of a drum, but faintly mixed with the tones of a zheng zither.

Hongli asked, “How did you make them produce music?”

Yingluo blinked. “Guess?”

With that, she snatched the last sky lantern back from Hongli’s hand, opened her palms, and released it. The lantern rose gently from her grasp like a giant firefly, drifting upward into the night sky.

“…Paper drums,” Hongli said, standing with his hands behind his back, gazing at the sky lantern floating above. “You attached paper drums to the sky lanterns, which is why they make that drumming sound.”

Wei Yingluo was taken aback. She had known that with Hongli’s intelligence, he would eventually figure it out, but she hadn’t expected him to guess so quickly.

“That’s right, paper drums,” she said. “Not just paper drums—there are also reed pipes. When they rise into the sky, you can hear the sound of a zheng zither as well. There, I’ve finished releasing the lanterns! Now that Your Majesty’s curiosity is satisfied, you can go back to your chess game.”

With that, she turned to leave.

Then her steps paused. Wei Yingluo slightly turned her head and looked down.

—Hongli had taken hold of her hand. Their fingers interlaced, intimately entwined.

“I’m not playing chess anymore.” Hongli tightened his grip on her hand, though his gaze remained fixed on the sky. “Stay with me and watch the moon.”

The nearby palace servants understood the situation and quietly withdrew without a sound.

Wei Yingluo stood beside Hongli for a long while before suddenly turning her head to ask, “Are you watching the moon… or watching me?”

The bright moon hung in the sky, surrounded by countless drifting sky lanterns. Their flickering lights and the scattered drumbeats created a scene of breathtaking beauty.

Yet Hongli didn’t spare a single glance at any of it…

His eyes had never left Wei Yingluo.

…

“What are you all doing?”

Meanwhile, in Chengqian Palace, the scene was entirely different.

   Palace maids and eunuchs crowded the courtyard, all craning their necks to watch the sky lanterns floating above.

Seeing this scene, Zhener was furious beyond words. She came over, scolded and dismissed the crowd, then returned to the bedroom and complained to the Empress: “Among all the concubines in the palace, Concubine Ling is the most cunning and tricky. In the past, even though the Emperor favored Noble Consort Chun, the rain and dew were still distributed evenly to others. Ever since she entered the palace, she’s used every trick in the book to compete for favor. No matter whose palace the Emperor intends to visit, she dares to intercept him halfway! And she’s always full of rotten ideas — yesterday it was love-letter kites, today it’s singing Kongming lanterns, who knows what new stunt she’ll pull tomorrow!”

The Empress smiled indifferently: “That woman is very interesting.”

When Hongli stayed too long in one place, naturally the time he spent in other palaces decreased. Zhongcui Palace grew increasingly deserted day by day, and Chengqian Palace was hardly any better. Zhener said bitterly: “Interesting? She’s just got a twisted, poisonous gut full of crooked schemes!”

But the Empress shook her head. She walked over to the window by herself, gazing at the bright trail in the night sky, and said calmly: “Zhener, a general must win battles, an official must serve the people, and a concubine must naturally compete for the Emperor’s favor. If she didn’t compete for favor, why would she have entered the palace in the first place?”

Zhener was stunned: “Your Ladyship, did I hear wrong? Why are you suddenly speaking up for her?”

“It’s simply the truth.” The Empress looked at the Kongming lantern, admiration actually flickering in her eyes. “Ever since she entered the palace, no matter what she does, she manages to be inventive and stand out, always striving to rise higher. In the embroidery workshop, a phoenix robe emerged under her hands that outshone all others. In Changchun Palace, she coaxed the former Empress into doting on her most. Even when sent to Yong Alley to scrub night-soil buckets, she somehow managed to do it in a way that set her apart. No time, no place, no circumstance can stop her from climbing step by step. What drives her is precisely that indomitable spirit!”

She suddenly sighed: “What a pity…”

Zhener asked curiously: “What’s a pity?”

“What a pity she isn’t a man.” The Empress smiled, then silently added in her heart: What a pity I am not a man either.

What a pity that neither of them was a man — they were merely women of the inner palace. No matter how fiercely they fought, they were like crickets trapped in this tiny square of ground.

   If only the two of them had been men, then the battlefield of their struggles would have lain outside the inner palace — on the court itself.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 138: True Heart

   One cup of wine beneath the moon; drinking alone, yet it feels like three.

Under the same moon, Yangxin Hall held two shadows facing each other, while in the cool pavilion of the Fucha residence, Fuheng sat alone.

“Young Master,” Qinglian entered the pavilion carrying a cloak in her arms. “You’ve had too much to drink…”

At Fuheng’s feet lay seven or eight empty wine jugs. He poured himself another cup, threw his head back, and drained it in one go. Then, half-drunk and half-sober, he laughed. “Today was the first time I ever schemed against His Majesty. That deserves a toast.”

Qinglian was stunned. “Schemed against His Majesty?”

Glug glug—the wine poured into the cup again. Fuheng smiled. “Yingluo caught Xiaoquanzi stealing. Using him, she planted stolen goods during the palace market and dragged Noble Consort Chun into the mess—that was the first step. Then she deliberately held back and did nothing, letting Concubine Xiaojia believe she had gotten away with it. She used Xiaoquanzi’s weakness to turn the tables and bite Concubine Xiaojia back—that was the second step. But those two moves alone were far from enough. Though she is favored, she has always carried one hidden danger.”

Qinglian: “What Young Master means is—Concubine Ling’s past?”

Fuheng tilted his head back again, and another cup of wine was emptied. One cup after another, he became drunk, and the words hidden deep in his heart slipped out unconsciously:

“I once pleaded before the Emperor for marriage, and for Yingluo’s sake I repeatedly contradicted him. That left a thorn in the Emperor’s heart. When I return from the battlefield, the Emperor will surely still harbor resentment. He is an emperor, but he is also a man…”

Qinglian nodded as if she understood but didn’t fully understand.

Let alone an emperor—even an ordinary man would not tolerate his wife having an affair with another man.

“…Moreover, this man is his own wife’s younger brother, his most trusted confidant,” Fuheng said faintly. “As long as this thorn remains, no matter how favored Concubine Ling is, she will always be walking on thin ice, in constant danger! Rather than that, it would be better to pull out the thorn herself…”

“Young Master…”

“I’m here.” Fuheng raised his drunken, hazy eyes to look at her; his gaze was gentler than the moonlight. “Yingluo, as long as you need me, I will be here, no matter in what form.”

Qinglian was startled. What did he just call her? Yingluo… Concubine Ling?

She had always felt something was strange before, even harboring a tiny bit of expectation. Among all the maids in the Fucha residence, Fuheng treated her differently from the others. She didn’t know why, and neither did anyone else; there had been plenty of private speculation. Only today did everything finally become clear.

“Is it my eyes, my appearance, or my voice?” Qinglian wondered to herself. “Which part of me… looks like Concubine Ling?”

“Are you doing well now?” Fuheng asked her softly. “Have you… obtained everything you wished for?”

Qinglian remained silent for a long time before cautiously reaching out and gently placing her hand on the back of his.

“I’m fine,” she replied softly. Even if only for this moment, even if only right now, she wanted to become Concubine Ling, so that he could treat her with such tenderness.

“That’s good.” Fuheng seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. With drunken, bleary eyes he looked at her. “As long as I can help you, that’s enough. Rest assured—I’ve already done everything I could for you. The Emperor has now tasted what defeat, jealousy, and longing feel like… all of them firsts in his life. Once he has experienced these, he will…”

As he spoke, he slowly slumped forward onto the table, burying his face and expression in his own arms, murmuring:

“…truly place you in his heart…”

In the past, you were merely a favored consort. From now on, you will be the woman the Emperor truly holds in his heart.

The wine cup on the table was pushed by him and fell to the ground with a clink.

Qinglian hurriedly bent down to pick it up, then softly called him: “Young Master… Young Master…”

The only response was faint snoring.

Qinglian gazed at him quietly. After a long while, she gently draped the cloak in her hands over him and said in a low voice:

“But Young Master, this is really too unfair to you. The Emperor gained your loyalty from you, Concubine Ling gained your love from you, but you yourself… have nothing.”

Outside the pavilion, the tree shadows flickered. Erqing, also holding a cloak, hid behind a tree, coldly watching the two people in the pavilion.

In Yanxi Palace, the garden was once again filled with gardenias in full bloom.

   Interestingly, these flowers seemed to symbolize the rise and fall of Yanxi Palace’s fortunes. When Wei Yingluo fell out of favor, even the potted plants would be moved out to Yong Alley to be used for smoking chamber pots. When Wei Yingluo regained favor, the entire courtyard would be overflowing with gardenias, blooming in luxurious splendor like a dream.

Gardenias bloomed in the courtyard, yet what was painted on the xuan paper was a spray of orchids.

“This stroke is not done like that.”

Hongli stood behind Wei Yingluo, holding her hand and guiding her stroke by stroke to paint.

Unfortunately, some wood cannot be carved. Even though he was already teaching her hand-over-hand, the orchid on the paper still looked crooked and twisted—at first glance, one might mistake it for a monster from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

“Not like that. Sparse flowers and simple leaves—that’s the true charm of an orchid.” Hongli firmly grasped Wei Yingluo’s hand and forcibly pulled back the wayward stroke, preventing the orchid from growing two extra mustaches. “Steady! Sigh… you should learn from Noble Consort Chun. Noble Consort Chun paints the best orchids—light brushstrokes, yet full of noble character.”

Wei Yingluo scoffed with a sneer, snatched the brush, and with a few swift strokes added three more orchid blooms.

Hongli said in surprise: “Yingluo, what are you doing?”

Wei Yingluo: “I just don’t like those extremely simple orchid paintings. The more vulgar and gaudy, the better. Is that not allowed?”

Hongli laughed despite himself: “You’re being completely unreasonable.”

Wei Yingluo: “If the Emperor thinks Noble Consort Chun paints so well, then go accompany her in painting! Your humble consort is just a vulgar person to begin with, so naturally what I paint is very vulgar!”

So it wasn’t that she was unteachable rotten wood — she was simply jealous.

Indeed, with a whole courtyard full of gardenias, why on earth would she paint orchids? This was Yanxi Palace, not Zhongcui Palace which was filled with orchids everywhere.

Hongli found it a little amusing inside and spoke to coax her: “Alright, alright, I misspoke for a moment. Your painting has already improved tremendously.”

Wei Yingluo turned her face away and ignored him.

Hongli gave an appeasing smile: “Why are you so easily angered? It’s all my fault for comparing you to others.”

Seeing that she still wouldn’t pay attention to him, Hongli thought for a moment, suddenly picked up the brush, and with a few quick strokes added two more flowers to the orchid painting. Then he held it up for her to see: “Not angry anymore? Now I’m being vulgar together with you. Satisfied now?”

Only then did Wei Yingluo slowly turn her face back: “Emperor, you have always been very vulgar!”

Hongli laughed: “In what way am I vulgar?”

Wei Yingluo grinned and pointed toward the bookshelf.

Hongli: “What about it?”

Wei Yingluo walked over, took out a scroll, and couldn’t help laughing out loud: “This scroll of ‘Autumn Colors at Que and Hua’ — you actually managed to get it back?”

Hongli: “What are you laughing at?”

Wei Yingluo unrolled the painting and pointed at one seal after another: “One, two, three, four, five… more than forty seals in total, all your imperial ink treasures and stamps. Happy — stamp one. Unhappy — stamp one too. It’s just like the dog-skin plaster I used to see being sold under Tianqiao Bridge — impossible to peel off once stuck!”

No one is a sage; everyone has some small flaws and quirks. But Hongli was the Emperor — normally no one dared point them out. Now that Wei Yingluo had bluntly said it, he felt a little embarrassed. He slapped the table heavily: “Insolent!”

Yet Wei Yingluo acted as if she hadn’t noticed the darkening of his face. Smiling brightly, she tossed the scroll aside, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist: “Your Majesty, the moment I said you were vulgar you got so angry! Put yourself in my shoes — when you say I’m vulgar, of course I’m unhappy too!”

This time it was Hongli’s turn to scoff and huff and turn his face away, refusing to look at her.

The tables had turned. Now it was Wei Yingluo’s turn to coax him: “Alright, alright, I’m not angry anymore, and Your Majesty shouldn’t be angry either, okay?”

But Hongli wasn’t as easy to placate as she was: “Punishment — copy my imperial poems one hundred times!”

Yingluo looked shocked: “Your Majesty, I really don’t like any of your poetry and prose. How about you punish me by copying Tang poems instead?”

Hongli: “Wei Yingluo!”

She burst out laughing, raised both hands, and gently pinched his earlobes on either side, half-coaxing, half-acting spoiled: “Fine, fine, I’ll copy imperial poems if that’s what you want. But there’s no good inkstone in my palace. This black-gold inkstone of yours is so precious and beautiful — won’t you give it to me?”

Hongli pulled her hands down: “No manners at all! The black-gold inkstone is unheard of in the world, extremely rare. I only have this one!”

Her unruly hands were pulled away, but quickly reached out again — first wrapping around his arm and shaking it, then hugging his neck and shaking it, until finally she had shaken his heart as well.

“Fine, take it, take it — it’s all yours!” he said grumpily. “Stop laughing. Come here and properly finish the orchid painting!”

With that, he pulled her into his arms and began teaching her how to paint once more.

“…And what is this now?”

“The Emperor couldn’t tell.”

“Say it.”

“It’s a mantis.”

“Wei Yingluo!”

At the door, De Sheng and Li Yu looked at each other in astonishment.

“Chief Steward Li.” De Sheng’s eyes were full of disbelief. “This servant has been in the palace for so long, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen a woman like Concubine Ling.”

Li Yu: “Don’t say you’ve never seen one—I’ve never seen one either! Three thousand beauties in the harem, all gentle, obedient, and compliant. And then there’s this one singular oddity, Concubine Ling.”

De Sheng stole a glance inside the room and lowered his voice: “Chief Steward Li, just now this servant saw Concubine Ling actually pinch the Emperor’s ear, and she even dared to pat the dragon’s head! Heavens! I was so frightened my heart nearly jumped out—I thought the next moment her head would roll!”

Li Yu sighed: “Everyone else treats the Emperor as the supreme Son of Heaven, but she’s the only one who treats him like an ordinary man! She laughs, she scolds, she does whatever she feels like. When she’s unhappy, she dares to throw a tantrum right in his face—and strangely enough, the Emperor actually likes it! What a bizarre thing!”

De Sheng shook his head: “This Concubine Ling is truly terrifying. She’s constantly stroking the dragon’s whiskers! Even if others knew the secret to her favor, who would dare imitate her? One misstep and—off with their head!”

Li Yu let out a short laugh, then quickly composed his face: “Hurry up and go change the tea—”

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 137: Embroidery

   Night, in the sleeping chamber of Yangxin Hall.

The one keeping watch was Li Yu. He held his whisk, standing ramrod straight by the edge of the bed. It was already the third watch of the night, yet from behind the bed curtains still came the sound of restless tossing and turning.

Finally, Hongli threw back the covers. “I can’t sleep. I’m going out for a walk!”

That walk took him straight into Yanxi Palace.

His dragon boots crunched on the snow—creak, creak. Hongli walked with uneven steps, one foot sinking deep, the other shallow. At one point he accidentally stepped into a snow-filled hollow.

“Your Majesty, careful!” Li Yu hurriedly reached out to steady him.

“What’s going on!” Hongli pulled his foot out, somewhat annoyed. “Has the snow in Yanxi Palace not been cleared even once since winter began?”

Though the noise he made wasn’t huge, it wasn’t small either. Normally, the night-duty palace servants should have gotten up to check. Yet even after Hongli reached the outside of the sleeping chamber, not a single person emerged.

Hongli’s brows furrowed. Li Yu, reading his expression, said, “Aiya, Your Majesty, these servants really have no sense of propriety…”

Hongli suddenly raised a hand, signaling him to be quiet.

In the pitch-black Yanxi Palace, a single point of light shone.

Hongli walked toward that faint light. As he drew closer, he realized it was a single candle flame, flickering weakly in its holder, casting a tiny point of light and a trace of warmth onto the broken, gaping hole in the window.

He stood just outside the window. Through that hole, borrowing the meager glow, he looked in at her.

Everyone in Yanxi Palace seemed to have vanished, leaving only Wei Yingluo behind. She sat alone under the lamp. It was already deep into the third watch of the night, yet she was still bent over her embroidery.

The room must have been freezing, because every so often she would pause, rub her hands together, bring her faintly purplish fingers to her mouth, and breathe warm air onto them. Only after some feeling returned would she pick up the needle and thread again.

Not only was the room cold, it was also terribly dim. Perhaps to make the candle last longer, she had pinched the wick down to the smallest, thinnest possible flame. Sitting beside such a feeble light, Wei Yingluo had to stop and rub her eyes every few stitches.

Even Li Yu, seeing her in such reduced circumstances, felt a pang of pity—let alone him. He stole a careful glance at Hongli and, sure enough, saw heartache written plainly across his face.

It would be a lie to say Hongli felt no resentment at all.

But no matter how much resentment he harbored, he had only avoided seeing her—he had never deliberately made things difficult for her… at least, he had never once thought of tormenting her through the basic necessities of food, clothing, shelter, or warmth!

Couldn’t you eat something? Couldn’t you wear thicker clothes? If nothing else, couldn’t you let the candle burn a little brighter? Don’t make me feel this guilty, please?

—These words surged and churned in Hongli’s chest, yet he could not bring himself to speak a single one aloud.

Whoosh—

Inside the room, the candle flame suddenly leaped.

Wei Yingluo quickly set down her needlework and reached out to shield the flame, protecting it from the cold draft pouring in through the broken window.

The flame danced violently for a moment before finally steadying. Wei Yingluo let out a soft sigh. Her gaze drifted unconsciously toward the window. Hongli hurriedly ducked aside, yanking Li Yu along with him. The two of them pressed themselves flat against the wall like geckos for a long while until Li Yu, chilled to the bone, lowered his head and sneezed.

Hongli shot him a fierce glare.

Li Yu immediately clapped both hands over his mouth and looked back at him with innocent, wide eyes.

After waiting a while, Hongli cautiously peeked inside again. Seeing that Wei Yingluo had returned to her embroidery with head bowed, he let out a quiet breath of relief.

“Your Majesty,” Li Yu whispered, “aren’t you going in?”

Hongli shook his head and turned to leave.

Though his body walked away, his heart remained behind.

That night he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her breathing warmth onto her palms, saw the sharp, thin point of her chin, saw the Guanyin embroidery in her hands.

—Yet unexpectedly, the very next day, he saw that same Guanyin embroidery again.

In the Empress Dowager’s palace.

   The room was heated with smokeless charcoal; even in winter, it felt as warm as spring. The Empress Dowager held the embroidered image in her hands, her eyes filled with undisguised delight:

“This Guanyin Bodhisattva is dignified yet approachable, full of compassion for all beings. The skin is round and pure, and the folds of the robes and sashes are so truly lifelike. This time the embroidery workshop has truly put in great effort!”

Noble Consort Chun smiled faintly. “Empress Dowager overpraises. Since this Guanyin image is a gift offered to you, how could they dare not give it their all?”

The Empress Dowager nodded with a smile and turned to have it hung up. “Emperor, come and take a look as well.”

When he drew closer, Hongli became even more certain: the embroidery before him was exactly the one Wei Yingluo had been working on. He cast a glance at Noble Consort Chun and saw that she was chatting and laughing with the Empress Dowager, not mentioning Wei Yingluo even once. On impulse—almost as if guided by some unseen force—he suddenly reached out and touched the painting:

“The hair on this Guanyin looks so lifelike—it doesn’t seem like embroidery thread. Could it be… real human hair?”

The Empress Dowager turned to Noble Consort Chun. “The embroiderer used real hair to create the image?”

Noble Consort Chun glanced at the Buddha statue. “Han people and Manchus are different. For Manchus, cutting the hair is a grave disrespect, but for Han people, using strand after strand of black hair in embroidery shows an even deeper devotion to the Bodhisattva! This is an old custom, called ‘hair embroidery.’”

Hongli’s finger traced the single red dot between Guanyin’s brows. “This dot is clearly blood.”

Noble Consort Chun lowered her eyes slightly. “Your Majesty, this might merely be a coincidence. The embroiderer’s blood fell onto the frame, and to hide it, she turned it into a red mark on the forehead.”

The Empress Dowager sighed in admiration. “This embroiderer is truly ingenious. I really would like to meet her.”

How could Noble Consort Chun allow Wei Yingluo to share even a sliver of favor? She immediately smiled and said, “Empress Dowager, the embroidered image was not the work of one person alone. It was a joint effort by the most outstanding embroiderers in the entire workshop. If you wish to see them, I will personally summon them.”

The Empress Dowager held the embroidery and nodded. “A skilled embroiderer with good needlework is common enough in the palace, but one who puts such heart into it is extremely rare. She should be properly rewarded.”

Hongli looked at Noble Consort Chun’s innocent, guileless face, his expression complicated.

Back in the Yangxin Hall, he still could not calm his mind. One moment the image of the single drop of blood between the Bodhisattva’s brows flashed in his head; the next, he saw Wei Yingluo coughing as she stitched. After pacing restlessly for a long while, he suddenly vented his frustration by kicking over the brazier. “Send this to Yanxi Palace!”

Li Yu glanced at him. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Wait!” The Emperor called him back. “Remember—this is not from me!”

Li Yu: “It is the Imperial Household Department wishing to make amends for their negligence, and so they specially sent a new charcoal brazier. This servant understands. Your Majesty may rest assured!”

Hongli scoffed with a sneer.

As Li Yu picked up the brazier to leave, Hongli tapped the table. “Send a glazed palace lantern as well. I don’t like blind people!”

“Yes.” After acknowledging, Li Yu suddenly asked, “Your Majesty, since you cannot bear to part with Concubine Ling, why not go and see her?”

Hongli snapped, “Silence!”

Li Yu immediately slapped his own face. “This servant spoke out of turn!”

But Hongli was not angry at him. He rose abruptly, hands clasped behind his back, pacing back and forth in the room. Grinding his teeth, he said, “I’m not concerned about her. I simply will not allow anyone in the harem to be mistreated. Those dog-slaves in the Imperial Household Department—even if Concubine Ling is out of favor, they have no right to trample on her!”

Li Yu: “Your Majesty may rest assured—this servant will punish them severely!”

When one is poor, even in a bustling city no one asks after you; when one is rich, distant relatives appear from everywhere. The moment it became clear that Hongli had softened, Yanxi Palace—previously deserted—suddenly came alive again. Eunuchs bustled about carrying braziers, hanging palace lanterns; even the bed curtains and window paper were replaced with new ones.

Though there was much work to do, there were now even more hands to do it.

The palace servants who had previously scattered to seek other opportunities now returned to Yanxi Palace. To make up for past wrongs and prove their loyalty to their master, they scrambled to work—none complained of hardship, none claimed fatigue.

Hardship or exhaustion was not what they feared. What they feared was Wei Yingluo settling accounts after autumn.

“Oh my, isn’t this Chief Steward Wu? What a rare visitor.” Ming Yu came over with hands on hips. “How is it that Your Honor has time today to condescend to visit our humble Yanxi Palace?”

Wu Shulai smiled obsequiously. “Ming Yu, with winter here, Yanxi Palace still hasn’t been properly prepared—Concubine Ling has suffered! This servant only just learned of it and immediately brought people over. We only beg Her Ladyship’s forgiveness! When this servant returns, he will certainly flay them alive!”

In the palace, those who fawned on the high and trampled the low were many—and this Wu Shulai was one of them.

Logically speaking, given the connection from the embroidery workshop days, even if he wouldn’t help Wei Yingluo, he shouldn’t have kicked her when she was down. But in reality? He controlled the Imperial Household Department, and Yanxi Palace lacked this and that—sometimes they couldn’t even get a bowl of hot food.

Ming Yu remembered all of it. Now that the tide had turned, she had no intention of being polite. She sneered coldly. “Winter has been here for over a month. Which palace doesn’t have braziers and lanterns? Do you yourself believe the words coming out of your mouth, Chief Steward Wu?”

Wu Shulai was a ruthless man. Without caring that his subordinates were still standing nearby, he slapped himself hard twice. “It was all this servant’s fault—entirely this servant’s negligence! Concubine Ling is magnanimous—please, please forgive this servant!”

Of course he was unwilling to lose face in front of his subordinates, but face mattered—yet preserving his position mattered even more.

Word had already spread through the palace that the Emperor was furious and intended to investigate the matter of the Imperial Household Department’s harsh treatment of Concubine Ling. If he didn’t beg for mercy now, in a few days he might not even have the chance to do so.

…He truly regretted it! How could he have been so blinded by greed as to help that person torment Concubine Ling?

   They had known each other for years!

   Back when she was still in the embroidery workshop, he had already taken a liking to Concubine Ling and had helped her time and again. One could say that part of her current status was thanks to his assistance.

   If only he had kept cultivating that connection, today he wouldn’t be worrying about an investigation—he’d be thinking about how to climb even higher.

   He was a fool. Truly a fool!

   Wu Shulai was filled with regret. Now all he could do was look pleadingly at Wei Yingluo, hoping that for the sake of their past friendship she would forgive him this once and put in a good word for him in front of the Emperor.

But though he stared at her longingly for a long time, Wei Yingluo merely kept her head down, focused on her embroidery, without so much as glancing at him.

Wu Shulai grew even more uneasy, and his manner became increasingly fawning and obsequious: “Whatever instructions Concubine Ling may have in the future, as long as you say the word, this servant will definitely carry them out—definitely! If anything like this ever happens again, this servant will cut off his own head and offer it to Your Ladyship as a seat!”

“Enough!” Ming Yu glanced at Wei Yingluo, then said to him, “Chief Steward Wu, Concubine Ling dislikes noise. You should take your people and leave quickly!”

“Right away! This servant will leave immediately!” Wu Shulai kept looking back with every step, but Wei Yingluo never once lifted her head to look at him.

People say new clothes are never as good as old ones, and new friends are never as good as old ones—but people like him weren’t even as good as an article of clothing.

At least clothing could provide a bit of warmth in freezing weather. Yes, he had helped Wei Yingluo back in the embroidery workshop, but she hadn’t taken his help for nothing. The reason he could sit securely as Chief Steward of the Imperial Household Department today—pressing everyone else down so they couldn’t even lift their heads—was in no small part thanks to Wei Yingluo’s contributions.

Yet when she needed help, he had been stingy even with a single basin of charcoal.

“Your Ladyship,” Ming Yu said, “he’s gone.”

Only then did Wei Yingluo raise her head and glance toward the door.

“Don’t blame me for being heartless,” she thought to herself. “If I let him off lightly this time with just a casual pardon, everyone will think I’m weak and easy to bully. They’ll climb up to me today, then kick me down when I’m at my lowest… because in the future, as long as they casually apologize, I’ll supposedly accept it without question.”

Another group of footsteps entered Yanxi Palace.

One person carried a charcoal brazier; another held a glazed lantern.

Yanxi Palace was no longer what it had been just a few days ago. The palace no longer lacked these things. If Wei Yingluo wished, she could even replace the candlelight with the night-luminous pearls bestowed by Hongli—a full box of them sat on the table, their brilliant glow enough to illuminate the entire chamber.

“Your Ladyship.” Ming Yu looked toward Wei Yingluo, her eyes asking what should be done with these items.

Wei Yingluo pondered for a moment, then let out a soft, amused laugh: “He’s reminding me… that it’s time to go express my gratitude.”

That night, in Yangxin Hall.

   Hongli was reviewing memorials, but his mind was clearly not on them. The moment he heard footsteps outside, he immediately set down his brush. When he saw who had entered, the smile on his face slowly faded. He asked: “Concubine Ling isn’t coming to express thanks?”

Li Yu was taken aback, then smiled ingratiatingly: “Your Majesty, Concubine Ling is not in the palace at the moment.”

A brush was flung at his face. Hongli said coldly: “Get out!”

“Yes, yes.” Li Yu hurriedly bowed and retreated. Before leaving, he gave a subtle look to a young eunuch beside him. The young eunuch lowered his head, carried forward a bowl of lotus seed soup, and approached.

This little eunuch was dressed in an arrow-sleeved horse jacket and court boots, his figure petite and delicate. Hongli glanced over and found him extremely unfamiliar, assuming he was a new apprentice brought in by Li Yu, so he said coldly, “Put the things down and get out.”

“Understood.” The little eunuch replied in a pinched, high-pitched voice. He placed the lotus seed soup on the desk, but his hand impudently reached out to stroke Hongli’s fingers. Hongli was startled and about to flare up in anger when he suddenly froze. With one swift motion, he yanked off the eunuch’s hat. “Wei Yingluo!”

A glossy black braid tumbled down over her right shoulder. Wei Yingluo tilted her head toward him and smiled—a smile so charming and playful it was impossible to describe.

Hongli exploded in fury. “Who allowed you in here? Li Yu! Li Yu!”

She gently placed a finger over his lips and said softly, “Your Majesty, I missed you.”

Like a tiger with a chain around its neck, like a kite held by strings, the raging Hongli suddenly fell silent, his eyes fixed on her.

“And you?” Wei Yingluo lightly caressed his lips—gentle and ticklish. “Does Your Majesty not miss your consort even a little?”

Hongli seized her wandering fingers and grumbled, “That dog of a Li Yu actually dared to let you in without permission. And look at what you’re wearing—more and more outrageous!”

Though his words were full of complaint, his hands were honest enough. In one motion he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap.

Wei Yingluo’s body was soft and delicate. Sitting on his lap, she behaved like a child—restless hands and feet included. One small foot lightly stepped on the back of Hongli’s foot as she let out a soft, aggrieved hum. “If Your Majesty hadn’t gotten jealous for no reason, your consort wouldn’t have had to dress like this just to sneak out of the palace and see you.”

“And you still dare blame me? It was you and Fuheng—” Hongli’s face grimed once more at the mention, and unconsciously, the hand resting on her waist loosened.

But Yingluo caught his hand and guided it firmly back to her waist. “Your Majesty is truly petty. You’ve stayed angry for so long and still can’t let it go. Yes, the late Empress did intend to betroth me to Lord Fucha.”

Hongli: “You—!”

Yingluo did not shy away in the slightest. “But didn’t Your Majesty personally reject it?”

Hongli: “That was only because I was afraid you would ruin Fuheng! There was not the slightest personal motive!”

“Yet I wishes that you did have personal motives—because I also has personal motives toward you.” Wei Yingluo looked at him earnestly. “Perhaps in Your Majesty’s heart, I am insignificant, but I am already your wife. From now on, there is only one master for me, and there will only ever be one husband—you!”

Without the brazier, the room was somewhat cold, but Hongli’s heart warmed because of those words. After a long silence, he gently took her hand and pressed it to his chest. “We will never mention this matter again. You won’t bring it up, I won’t bring it up, and no one in the palace is permitted to mention it either. Whoever dares spread such rumors to harm you in the future… I will execute them without mercy!”

“Your Majesty…” Tears shimmered faintly in Wei Yingluo’s eyes. She called out softly, then buried herself against his chest, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Hongli sighed and wrapped her tenderly in his arms, holding her close to his heart. He felt that this woman was like a thorn lodged in his heart: pulling it out would hurt, leaving it in would also hurt. Over time, it had grown into his flesh and become part of his very blood and bone—something he could no longer separate himself from.

   STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 136: May It Be as It Was at the Beginning

   One month later, at the martial training ground.

   Because he needed to secretly look after Wei Yingluo, Fuheng would occasionally make trips into the palace.

Of course, he could not go to the inner palace. Every time he came, it was to the training ground, under the same pretext—to spar with his good friend Hailancha.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Sword met sword in sharp clashes. Both Fuheng and Hailancha were dressed lightly, yet fine beads of sweat flew from them. Their powerful stances and soaring battle spirit made them resemble two untamed wild lions.

Hailancha’s martial skill was formidable, but in the end, Fuheng held the clear advantage.

With a resounding clang, the long sword in Hailancha’s hand was suddenly struck flying.

“Your Majesty, be careful!”

Both Hailancha and Fuheng were startled. They turned and saw—oh no! —the sword was flying straight toward Hongli.

Before the guards could even react to save him, Hongli had already deftly raised his hand and caught the hilt.

The force of the sword carried his steps backward several paces. Once he steadied himself, Hongli casually flourished the blade in a sword flower, his eyes coldly fixed on the two men in the arena.

Fuheng and Hailancha immediately knelt together: “This servant has startled His Majesty’s presence—deserves ten thousand deaths!”

Hongli lifted the sword and walked forward step by step until he stood before Fuheng. Coldly he said, “Fuheng, it has been many years since I last witnessed your swordsmanship. Why don’t you let me test it for myself—see exactly how much you’ve improved!”

With those words, a streak of cold light slashed downward.

Fuheng dared not block it, nor did he dare dodge. Thus his arm took the blow squarely.

Hongli withdrew the sword and said coldly, “If you retreat without fighting, it will be considered deceiving the sovereign!”

Helpless, Fuheng had no choice but to raise his sword to meet him.

The two blades clashed. One side reflected Hongli’s face as he spoke casually: “In the past, when Neqin was still here, he always came alone to audience and discuss affairs. But after you entered the Grand Council, every time it requires all the Grand Council ministers to appear together before the throne. Fuheng—are you perhaps being a little too cautious?”

On the other side, reflecting Fuheng’s face, he said, “Your Majesty, this servant once made a grave mistake, leading to one wrong step after another—I truly regret it beyond measure. If private matters are like this, how much more so public affairs. Now I am cautious and careful, precisely because I take responsibility for the affairs of state.”

Hongli: “What you mean is—never mind!”

He had come full of anger, but at this moment his rage suddenly dissipated. His movements lost their vigor, and he abruptly tossed the sword aside. “I’m tired. Li Yu, return to the palace.”

He had just taken one step toward the door when he heard Fuheng behind him say, “Your Majesty, why do you not ask where the mistake lay? If back then you had granted this servant’s request for marriage, the Concubine Ling of today would be Lord Fucha Fuheng’s wife!”

Hongli suddenly bent down, snatched up the long sword from the ground, turned, and pointed it at him. “Lord Fucha Fuheng, you are outrageously presumptuous!”

Fuheng showed no fear whatsoever. “This servant once admired Wei Yingluo. Perhaps to Your Majesty this constitutes a kind of blasphemy—but she never agreed to marry this servant. Everything was merely this servant’s one-sided wish!”

Hongli: “Enough! I don’t want to hear it!”

Fuheng: “The past cannot be recalled. Your Majesty has always been magnanimous. Before the Borjigin woman entered the palace, she had been widowed, yet the moment she entered she was granted the rank of Noble Lady. Your Majesty did not even mind that she had been married before. Why, then, when it comes to Wei Yingluo, do you harbor such resentment?”

Hongli said darkly, “Lord Fuheng, do you truly believe I won’t kill you?”

Fuheng: “Because this woman is Wei Yingluo, you refuse to recall her past—because you did not participate in it, did not understand it! The angrier Your Majesty becomes now, the more you coldly neglect Concubine Ling, the more it proves that you are jealous and at a loss!”

Hongli: “Lord Fucha Fuheng, back then I stopped you only because…”

Fuheng: “Because Your Majesty believed Wei Yingluo was vain and greedy for power, clinging to the influential? Yet deep in your heart you know very well—if she were truly that kind of person, she would have long since used Your Majesty to climb higher! Yet you still insist on saying so. Why?”

Hongli gave a mocking laugh. “You suspect that I deliberately broke you two apart? Lord Fuheng, you really have gone mad—to utter such absurd words!”

Fuheng: “This servant dares not presume to guess the sacred will. Only Your Majesty knows best what is truly in your heart.”

Hongli was momentarily stunned.

The Empress’s words suddenly rang in his ears: Your Majesty, you were so determined to break off this marriage—do you truly have no selfish motives? Perhaps Your Majesty took a liking to Wei Yingluo and wanted her for yourself!

   Before him stood a face strikingly similar to the Empress’s, looking at him calmly. “Your Majesty, since you have obtained her, you should cherish her properly. Otherwise, this servant will only regret even more why I did not persist to the very end back then!”

The story branches here, each thread told separately.

While these two men stood in tense confrontation, inside a palace corridor, Ming Yu and Wei Yingluo walked one behind the other. Ming Yu carried a large armful of silk brocade, grumbling as she went: “Finishing the Guanyin embroidery wasn’t enough—now they’re making you embroider Buddhist sutras too. It’s clearly deliberate harassment! Your hand was injured in the Cleansing Division, and now you’re embroidering day and night. The cuts on your hand have all split open again. If you damage the brocade even slightly, everything has to be started over!”

“Enough!” Wei Yingluo said helplessly.

“I’m going to say it anyway!” Ming Yu was so angry her face was almost distorted. “Having someone embroider is one thing, but making us supply the materials too—this time if Momo Zhang hadn’t helped, we wouldn’t even have had any satin. What Buddhist embroidery are we supposed to do…”

She broke off mid-sentence.

An uninvited guest had appeared at the far end of the long corridor. Upon seeing them, he did not avoid them at all—he walked straight toward them.

It was none other than Wei Yingluo’s mortal enemy—the very Prince He who had caused the death of her sister—Hongzhou.

Truly, when the roof leaks, it pours all night. At this moment Yanxi Palace was already in the most precarious, windswept state—hardly a match for this prince standing before them.

Wei Yingluo hated him to the bone, yet she also understood her current position. She would not choose this moment to clash head-on with him. Instead, she chose to ignore him entirely and led Ming Yu to pass right by his side.

But Hongzhou was not willing to let her go so easily. With a sudden flick of his hand, he knocked the pile of silk brocade from Ming Yu’s arms and sent it tumbling to the ground.

The ground was still wet from the recent snowfall. Ming Yu, fearing that the silk would get soaked and ruined by the snowmelt, hurriedly bent down to pick it up. But just as her fingers touched the fabric, a pair of official boots stretched out from the side and mercilessly crushed down on her fingers.

“Ah!” Ming Yu cried out in pain, caught completely off guard.

Wei Yingluo’s expression changed. She forcefully shoved Hongzhou’s foot away and shielded Ming Yu in front of her: “Prince He, treating a woman this way—isn’t that far too despicable?”

She had assumed that since they were still within the palace, her status as a concubine would serve as protection. No matter how arrogant and domineering Prince He might be, he wouldn’t dare do anything to her. But to her surprise, he scoffed with icy disdain. Suddenly, one hand shot out, seizing her throat in a vicious grip and slamming her back against a pillar.

The eunuch who had been escorting him out of the palace trembled in fear: “P-Prince He, this… this cannot be done…”

“What do you mean it cannot be done?” Hongzhou lifted his hand, and Wei Yingluo’s feet rose off the ground along with it, leaving her dangling in midair against the pillar. She gasped desperately for breath like someone on the verge of death. He sneered coldly: “This Concubine Ling has completely lost favor. Now she’s nothing but a stray dog anyone can trample!”

Still, he didn’t dare kill her openly. His fingers loosened, and Wei Yingluo collapsed to the ground, clutching her throat and coughing violently. It took her a long while to catch her breath. But instead of being frightened by what had just happened, she slowly raised her head and stared straight at him: “Even a stray dog can bite.”

Hongzhou burst into loud laughter and reached for her again: “Go on then—bite me and let me see!”

Just as that hand was about to clamp around Wei Yingluo’s throat once more, another hand suddenly shot out from the side—like iron tongs—locking tightly around his wrist. A faint sound of cracking bone could be heard.

Hongzhou cried out in pain: “Fuheng! Have you gone mad? Let go!”

The person who had rushed over in a hurry to stop all of this was none other than Fuheng.

He appeared to have run the whole way; his breathing was slightly ragged, and the sweat on his forehead—whether from the run or from the shock of the scene—was unclear. Hearing Hongzhou’s words, he only tightened his grip further and said coldly: “Out of consideration for the fact that we grew up together, I’ve already been very polite to you! Hongzhou, you’ve done so many things and only with great difficulty managed to change His Majesty’s opinion of you. Are you planning to throw it all away and go back to how things were before?”

A flicker of struggle crossed Hongzhou’s face: “…I understand. Let go.”

Seeing that he finally knew to restrain himself, Fuheng slowly released his grip—but his eyes remained full of wariness, fixed on him.

Even if Hongzhou wanted to make trouble for Wei Yingluo, he wouldn’t choose this time or this place—because… he simply couldn’t beat Fuheng. All he could do was toss out one final sentence: “Fine. I’d like to see just how long you can keep protecting her!”

With that, Hongzhou shot Wei Yingluo one last vicious glare, clutched his wrist, and stormed off in fury.

Only then did Fuheng let out a breath of relief. He turned back to help Wei Yingluo: “Are you all right?”

But Wei Yingluo avoided his hand and turned her face toward Ming Yu: “Ming Yu, let’s go back.”

Ming Yu hurried over to support her. The two of them gathered up the silk from the ground, held it in their arms, and were about to leave when Fuheng suddenly spoke from behind: “Wait!”

Immediately after, his footsteps caught up. A very low, deep voice fell beside Wei Yingluo’s ear: “Hongzhou harbors deep hatred toward you. Be extremely careful. Also… I saw His Majesty today. I hope… everything goes as you wish.”

Wei Yingluo’s heart stirred, but she didn’t turn back. She simply continued walking forward, leaving his voice and his figure behind her.

Fuheng remained rooted in place, motionless, watching her departing silhouette. After a long while, he lowered his head and looked at his own sleeve. A trail of fresh blood snaked down from inside it.

—It was the sword wound left by Hongli during practice on the training ground.

Drop by drop it fell onto the snow, blooming like plum blossoms.

Inside Yanxi Palace, a similar plum tree was also in bloom—twisted diseased branches dotted with red plum blossoms.

Wei Yingluo returned to the palace with a heavy heart. There was too much work on her hands, so she continued embroidering while lost in thought. Although the window was closed, the wind and snow had blown a small hole in it. She hadn’t had time to patch it yet, so voices from outside drifted in.

“Xiaoquanzi, what is this bottle of medicine?”

“Sister Ming Yu, this was delivered by Lord Soulun at noon. He said it’s the best hand cream—made with cardamom and white sandalwood—so it can restore your hands to smooth and flawless condition.”

“That’s perfect! I was just in need of a bottle like this!”

The door creaked open. Ming Yu came in holding a porcelain-white medicine bottle, closed the door behind her with a backward motion, and walked over to Wei Yingluo’s side.

“Keep the person, take away the medicine.” Wei Yingluo said without lifting her head.

Ming Yu was stunned for a moment, then gave a wry smile. “True enough. Even someone as slow as me figured it out—how could you not see it?”

It wasn’t that she had discovered it entirely on her own. Rather, Soulun—that big, blunt oaf—was simply terrible at lying, and even worse at deceiving the girl he liked. After holding it in for several days, he finally couldn’t bear it anymore and confessed the truth to Ming Yu.

At first she blamed him, but later she felt that his straightforward honesty was actually quite nice, so she stopped holding it against him. All along, though, she had been quietly wondering whether she should tell Wei Yingluo the real story.

Now, as it turned out, she had guessed it herself.

“It’s easy to add flowers to brocade, but hard to send charcoal in a snowstorm,” Ming Yu said meaningfully. “I really wish I had someone who understands when I’m cold or warm, who’s gentle and considerate, always thinking of me!”

Wei Yingluo smiled slightly. “Isn’t your Guard Soulun exactly that kind of person?”

“That big blockhead!” Ming Yu glared. “That big blockhead only thinks about going to the battlefield to earn merit all day long. How would he ever understand a girl’s tender feelings? Flirting with him is less effective than flirting with a blind bear!”

Whenever she mentioned Soulun, she took on this lively, animated expression. Wei Yingluo let out a soft laugh and pushed the medicine bottle back toward her. “Put it away for now.”

Ming Yu was startled. “You don’t need it now?”

“Right, no need,” Wei Yingluo said, her gaze shifting to the brazier at her feet. “And this one too—put it away.”

Ming Yu looked shocked. “W-why? The weather is already so cold…”

These days the cold grew harsher by the day. A month ago she could still wrap herself in a quilt to get through the night, but now even bundling up in a quilt wasn’t enough—her teeth would chatter from the chill. Without the brazier, how could anyone survive the night? She feared that before dawn, her entire body would turn ice-cold.

Why?

In Wei Yingluo’s mind there suddenly flashed the words Fuheng had left behind earlier: “I saw His Majesty today. I hope that… everything goes as you wish.”

“Do as I say.” While speaking, Wei Yingluo walked over to the table, lit a cluster of candle flames, then slowly pinched the wick thinner and thinner.

—just as she had done a month ago, when Yanxi Palace had become so destitute that not even a single candle could be used.

STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 135: No Expectation of Return

   Concubine Xiaojia’s words turned out to be prophetic. From that day onward, Hongli never set foot in Yanxi Palace again. He even forbade anyone from mentioning Wei Yingluo’s name in his presence.

   Ming Yu was anxious at heart. She specially brought generous gifts and went to find Li Yu several times. After much back-and-forth, Li Yu finally let slip a little: “His Majesty is still angry.”

“Chief Steward Li!” Ming Yu said urgently, “It was clearly Concubine Xiaojia who framed Concubine Ling—how can His Majesty still be angry?”

“The framing is real, but it’s also true that in the past, Lord Fucha once sought to marry Wei Yingluo!” Li Yu said with a smiling squint.

Ming Yu was speechless for a long moment. “But… but that was all in the past. Before His Majesty accepted Concubine Ling, didn’t he already know about it?”

“He knew, yes—but knowing is one thing, and personally seeing the two of them standing together is quite another.” As he spoke, Li Yu shook out the garment in his hand, saying meaningfully, “Ah, such fine fabric, such exquisite workmanship. But once His Majesty has worn it once, he doesn’t want to wear it again. It can only be put away.”

If even clothing is discarded after being worn once, how much more so a woman.

Ming Yu returned to Yanxi Palace with a heavy heart. All along the way, everything looked bleak and desolate. No one in the courtyard, no one in the side rooms, no one in the tea room. Finally, entering the inner hall, she saw Wei Yingluo having to pour her own tea. Furious, she rushed over, poured the tea for her, and shouted, “Where is everyone? Where the hell have they all died off to?”

“Ming Yu.” At last one person appeared—it was the little thief, Xiaoquanzi. He came limping over. “Those people were all summoned away by the Imperial Household Department. Some said Zhongcui Palace needed people to repair the roof, some said Chengqian Palace needed the inner courtyard cleaned, and the Imperial Garden was short of sweepers too…”

The more Ming Yu heard, the angrier she became. “The Imperial Household Department has people working everywhere—why are they suddenly dispatching people from Yanxi Palace!”

“Ming Yu, don’t you understand yet?” Xiaoquanzi sighed. “With our master out of favor with His Majesty, Yanxi Palace has no prospects left. Everyone is just looking out for their own way out.”

Ming Yu was stunned. Beside her, Wei Yingluo suddenly asked him, “Then why haven’t you left?”

In times of hardship, true feelings are revealed. She and Ming Yu truly had loyalty between them—but what about this little thief?

Xiaoquanzi dropped to his knees with a thud before her. “This servant betrayed you, offended Noble Consort Chun, and sold out Concubine Xiaojia. A person like me has no way to survive anywhere else. So even if our master is sent to the cold palace, this servant is willing to accompany you to the end.”

Wei Yingluo suddenly laughed. “You little servant—you actually dare to speak so bluntly. You’ve got some nerve!”

Xiaoquanzi: “Our master praises me, but this servant dares not accept it.”

Ming Yu, however, couldn’t stand him. “Even if every servant in the palace died out, our master would never use a two-faced, backstabbing thing like you. Pack your things and get out right now!”

Xiaoquanzi remained obediently kneeling on the ground, head bowed, and said, “Master, this servant did do wrong. But the Forbidden City is the Forbidden City—flattering the high and trampling the low, betrayal and scheming are everyday matters. After this incident, this servant’s little braid is firmly in Master’s hand. I can never betray again. So if Master is willing to use this servant, you will have found a loyal, devoted dog. This servant is willing to guard the gate and protect the courtyard for you, and swear allegiance unto death!”

Wei Yingluo sighed. “It’s a pity that my door no longer needs a dog to watch it.”

Xiaoquanzi suddenly smiled, showing even more confidence than she did. “Master, His Majesty has only momentarily taken a wrong turn. Once he thinks it through in the future, Master will still have the chance to rise again. Please don’t lose heart!”

“Noble Consort Chun has arrived!”

Wei Yingluo quickly raised a hand to silence the two of them, then stood up to greet her. “This concubine pays respects to Noble Consort Chun.”

When one is in a good mood, one’s spirit shines. Today’s Noble Consort Chun looked radiant and glowing with health.

—Clearly, she was building her own happiness on top of Wei Yingluo’s suffering.

After casually sitting down on a chair and exchanging a few idle words with Wei Yingluo, Noble Consort Chun finally revealed her true intention. She glanced at Yuhu, who understood at once and came forward carrying a tray with needles, thread, and bolts of fine silk.

Wei Yingluo didn’t understand what this meant and looked up at Noble Consort Chun.

“Everyone says Concubine Ling was once an embroidery girl—her needlework is lifelike, truly a marvel that rivals heaven’s work,” Noble Consort Chun said with a smile. “A few days ago, I specially found one of your embroidered pieces and sent it to Shoukang Palace. The Empress Dowager was delighted and instructed that you embroider an image of the Great Bodhisattva Guanyin for her.”

No matter how low Wei Yingluo had fallen, she was still the head of a palace. Yet Noble Consort Chun was treating her like an embroidery maid, like a mere servant to be ordered about.

“Noble Consort Chun.” Ming Yu immediately spoke up in defense of Wei Yingluo. Unable to refuse outright, she sought another excuse: “My mistress injured her hand in the past and can only do rough, simple work. An exquisite embroidered portrait of Guanyin Bodhisattva like this…”

It wasn’t entirely an excuse.

Wei Yingluo’s life had been full of hardships, and nearly all of them were written on her hands: burn scars from molten iron, frostbite from long hours in the snow, old wounds left from days and nights of endlessly scrubbing chamber pots. Scars of every kind, too numerous to count—even the finest ointments couldn’t erase them. They had become like the growth rings of a tree, an inseparable part of her life and her hands.

Noble Consort Chun, however, paid no attention to such details. She said coolly: “I have already recommended you in front of the Empress Dowager. Am I supposed to go back now and tell her that you’re incapable?”

Ming Yu was about to protest again when Wei Yingluo silenced her with a single glance. Then, turning to Noble Consort Chun with a smile, she asked: “Noble Consort Chun, how long do I have to complete this embroidered portrait for the Empress Dowager?”

Noble Consort Chun smiled sweetly: “Not too long, not too short—one month.”

Ming Yu: “You—”

One month? In one month she might manage to embroider a decent handkerchief, and now she was expected to embroider a portrait of Guanyin? Noble Consort Chun was clearly making things deliberately difficult!

   Yet Wei Yingluo’s smile remained unchanged: “Noble Consort, please rest assured. This concubine will do her utmost.”

After seeing Noble Consort Chun off, Ming Yu slammed the door shut and said through gritted teeth: “She’s obviously here to kick you when you’re down! How could you agree so easily?”

“Noble Consort Chun has already made it clear that the embroidery is for the Empress Dowager. If I openly refuse, it would be blatant disrespect to Her Majesty. She’s just waiting for me to give her an excuse to accuse me.” Wei Yingluo picked up the needle and thread from the table, her expression grave. “Go and bring all the candles over.”

That night, a cluster of candle flames lit up inside Yanxi Palace.

Supplies in the palace were scarce—even the most ordinary candles had to be used sparingly. So Wei Yingluo deliberately turned the wicks down low, making the candles burn more slowly and last longer.

Embroidering by such dim candlelight inevitably led to… pricking her fingers.

“Tch!” Wei Yingluo frowned, put the injured finger into her mouth to suck on it briefly, waited until the bleeding stopped, and then continued stitching.

If she refused to sleep, Ming Yu naturally refused to sleep as well. She stayed by her side, rubbing her arms against the cold even as she shivered. She opened the charcoal basin, hoping to stir the fire higher, only to discover that the coals inside had long since gone out.

Ming Yu’s heart ached. After looking around for a moment, she fetched a thick quilt from the bed, draped it snugly over Wei Yingluo’s shoulders, and then pressed herself close like a human charcoal brazier, using her own body warmth to keep her warm.

“If you cling to me like this, I can’t even embroider anymore,” Wei Yingluo said with a laugh, though she didn’t push her away.

Ming Yu had intended to stay up with her until dawn, but gradually her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Without realizing it, she leaned against Wei Yingluo’s shoulder and fell asleep. In her dream the room felt warm as spring. She suddenly opened her eyes, only to find it wasn’t a dream—the room really was warm as spring.

“Shh.” Xiaoquanzi was squatting on the floor. He raised one finger to his lips. “Keep your voice down. The mistress has just fallen asleep.”

Wei Yingluo was utterly exhausted. Outside the window, a faint trace of dawn light was already visible. Only then had she closed her eyes, still clutching the embroidery as she lay down on the bed—as though the moment she opened her eyes she would resume her work.

Ming Yu tenderly tucked the quilt around her more securely. Her gaze shifted and landed on the charcoal basin at Xiaoquanzi’s feet. Bright flames danced inside, licking upward, yet there wasn’t the slightest acrid smoke. It was clearly high-quality smokeless charcoal. She felt both surprised and delighted, and whispered: “Xiaoquanzi, you’re wonderful!”

Xiaoquanzi simply smiled at her without saying much.

If it had only been one basin of charcoal, Ming Yu wouldn’t have grown suspicious. She would have assumed he had connections in the Imperial Household Department, and that someone there was willing to give Yanxi Palace a little face—not much, but at least enough charcoal to get through the winter.

But soon enough, Ming Yu began to sense something was off.

At mealtime, Xiaoquanzi delivered a hot pot. For Yanxi Palace in the depths of winter, managing even one hot meal with hot dishes was already difficult. Yet when the lid was lifted, there were both meat and vegetables inside—not only richly flavored Dongpo pork, but also cabbage, something rarely seen in winter. Not only Ming Yu, but even Wei Yingluo was somewhat astonished. She asked him: “Xiaoquanzi, where did you get such fine dishes from?”

Xiaoquanzi insisted stubbornly: “It was issued by the Imperial Household Department.”

Even late into the night, when Wei Yingluo was halfway through embroidering a portrait and couldn’t help covering her mouth to cough twice, he suddenly produced, as if by magic, a box of top-quality loquat paste from his robes and handed it to Wei Yingluo.

Wei Yingluo looked thoughtful, but Ming Yu did not have the same level of composure. The very next day she summoned Xiaoquanzi to a quiet spot and questioned him sharply: “Where did you get that loquat paste?”

Xiaoquanzi put on an innocent face: “Issued by the Imperial Household Department.”

The Imperial Household Department again? Ming Yu scoffed with icy disdain. “You’re lying! I went early this morning to request some and was given every excuse in the book—I couldn’t get any. How could you possibly have gotten some?”

Xiaoquanzi was struck dumb.

“And that basin of charcoal fire too,” Ming Yu pressed aggressively. “Afterward, when I went to dispose of the ashes, I discovered pine and cypress incense had been added to it. The mistress was so focused on her embroidery that she didn’t notice at the time. Xiaoquanzi… are you going to tell me that was also issued by the Imperial Household Department? If you don’t tell the truth right now, I’ll go straight to the mistress!”

Xiaoquanzi hurriedly grabbed her arm. “No, no, no—don’t go! It was given to me by Guard Soulun!”

Ming Yu’s heart had been full of suspicions; she had even wondered if it was the Emperor himself. But she never expected the name that finally came out of his mouth to be this one…

“How could it be him?” Ming Yu couldn’t help murmuring to herself.

Toward him, she actually carried a deep sense of guilt.

There had been a private affection between them: for Hailancha it was genuine love, but for her it had been ulterior.

Previously she had taken advantage of that feeling, coaxing information out of him about Noble Consort Chun’s plan to open a market in Jiangnan, then handed it over to Wei Yingluo, which set the entire subsequent chain of events in motion.

Everything had gone extremely smoothly, yet Wei Yingluo had half-advised, half-warned her: “Don’t do anything like that again in the future. You’ll only end up exhausting whatever affection remains between the two of you.”

“Sister Ming Yu?” Xiaoquanzi’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Ming Yu snapped back to the present, looked at him with a complicated expression, and said, “I understand now. Go inside and attend to the mistress for a while. Remember not to let her overwork herself. Even if she can’t rest on time, at least make sure she eats on time.”

“Understood.” Xiaoquanzi asked, “If the mistress later asks where you went, what should I tell her?”

“I…” Ming Yu hesitated for a moment, then replied, “Just say I went to the Imperial Household Department to request something.”

Naturally, the Imperial Household Department would issue her nothing at all.

Just like Xiaoquanzi, she ultimately made her way to the guards’ station.

She had come all this way, yet suddenly lost the courage to go inside. Ming Yu leaned against the main gate, exhaling white puffs of breath one after another; they melted together with the snowflakes drifting in front of her.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when a voice suddenly came from behind her: “…Ming Yu?”

She turned around and saw Hailancha striding toward her with long, powerful steps. He immediately took off his large cloak and wrapped it around her. “You’re here—why didn’t you come in?”

Hailancha was tall and broad-shouldered. When his cloak enveloped Ming Yu, the hem dragged all the way to the ground. The garment still carried the warmth of his body, like a spring breeze, thawing her frozen frame.

“…You know better than anyone what the situation is like in Yanxi Palace right now,” Ming Yu said in a low voice. “It’s best if no one sees us meeting.”

Hailancha was momentarily taken aback, then reached out and gently ruffled her hair. “Silly girl, do you think I’d worry about something like that? Come inside—you’ll freeze out here.”

He personally pushed the door open, but Ming Yu refused to step through. She only clutched the cloak tightly around herself and stood in place, saying, “I won’t go in. I came today… to thank you.”

“Thank me for what?” Hailancha looked puzzled.

“The new charcoal with pine and cypress incense, the warming brazier, and the loquat paste you gave to Xiaoquanzi…” Ming Yu gazed at him with soft, glistening eyes. “Thank you…”

Hailancha was silent for a long moment, then suddenly smiled. “Oh, so that’s what you’re talking about. I said I would help you, so of course I had to follow through!”

“I…” Tears welled up in Ming Yu’s eyes. Afraid he would see them, she quickly lowered her head. “I really don’t know how to thank you properly…”

He was so sincere toward her, every word he spoke carried weight and was kept. Yet she harbored schemes against him, hiding a lie in every two sentences…

Hailancha reached out, slowly tying the ties of the large cloak around her neck, and said gently, “It’s cold. Go back quickly.”

Ming Yu nodded. When she turned to leave, she couldn’t hold back any longer—tears streamed down her face.

The wind and snow howled, little by little erasing her retreating figure. Hailancha folded his arms, leaned against the pillar, and suddenly said, “Come out.”

From behind another pillar, Fuheng slowly stepped forward.

“The charcoal was sent by me, but I didn’t add any pine or cypress incense. As for the hot pot ingredients, the loquat paste, and Xiaoquanzi—I know absolutely nothing about any of it.” Hailancha turned his head to look at him. “What about you? Do you know anything?”

Fuheng remained silent.

“Speak.” Hailancha walked over. “You’ve done so much for her—why won’t you let her know?”

At last Fuheng spoke. He smiled slightly. “There’s no need.”

The good I do for her should not become a burden to her. My love for her is my own affair alone—I seek nothing in return.

   STORY OF YANXI PALACE CHAPTERS HOME

  

   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 134: Secret Rendezvous

   Hate?

   Wei Yingluo quickly turned her face away, as if avoiding him—or perhaps avoiding her own feelings: “I don’t!”

“I promised to marry you as my wife, yet in the end I married the Xitara woman.” Fuheng said bitterly, “Given your temperament, you would never forgive me in this lifetime.”

“…Fuheng, you really think too highly of yourself.” Wei Yingluo seemed finally to have steadied her emotions. She slowly turned back to face him, her expression calm and unruffled as she said faintly, “Only where there is love can there be hate. Since I no longer love you, naturally I no longer hate you either.”

Compared to this flat, indifferent response from her, Fuheng would almost have preferred her to curse him out.

“…You will never forgive me, will you?” His tone was half question, half resigned statement of his own fate. His smile was bitter. “This… is truly my own fault.”

He hated himself for being too young back then, for so easily believing Erqing’s words. He hated himself for hesitating, for not asking her directly when he could have, and instead waiting until he returned from the battlefield.

One wrong step led to every step being wrong, until finally the two of them parted ways and walked in opposite directions—two paths that, in this lifetime, would likely never cross again.

This heavy emotion pressed down on Wei Yingluo’s shoulders until she could hardly breathe.

To be loved so unconditionally and without regret by such an unparalleled man in the world would fill any other woman with pure joy. Yet Wei Yingluo only felt stifled and irritated.

Some words, once missed, should never be spoken again. Some people, once missed, should never be seen again—otherwise they only bring more trouble. Wei Yingluo took a deep breath: “Fucha Fuheng, you do not belong in the Forbidden City. This place is full of traps and schemes. You belong on the battlefield, where you can achieve great deeds and fulfill your lifelong ambitions. Go—leave right now!”

This harem was ultimately a battlefield for women. He was an outer minister; even if he uncovered the truth, he was unlikely to be a match for those women.

The Empress’s revenge would ultimately have to be carried out by her!

“But, Yingluo…” Fuheng looked at her. “I cannot rest easy leaving you here.”

“Enough!” Wei Yingluo cut him off sharply.

“If I stay, at least I can see you.” Fuheng said gently. “When you are in danger, I can do something for you.”

Some feelings, even when missed, remain unforgettable. Some things, once missed, bring endless regret. Fuheng had always regretted leaving so quietly back then. If he had cared for her a little more, perhaps she would not have entered the palace alone, carrying a secret purpose to become one of Hongli’s concubines…

   The two of them… would not have ended up with such a regretful outcome today.

“Fucha Fuheng!” Wei Yingluo could not help shouting his full name. “I’m telling you again—enough!”

She became even more resolute: she absolutely could not let him know the truth, and especially could not let him know her purpose in becoming a concubine. Otherwise, with him already so emotionally overwhelmed now, if he learned the truth later…

Fortunately, Fuheng had excellent self-control. Though his feelings ran as deep as the sea, he would never cross the line. He still maintained the proper distance of lord and subject, only his gaze remained as gentle as ever as he said to her: “No matter what you truly intend to do, I only want to tell you one thing: my sister truly hoped for your happiness.”

Wei Yingluo was stunned.

“To set you free and let you be happy—that was my sister’s only wish before she passed away.” Fuheng glanced once more at the portrait hanging on the wall. “You must always remember this. Don’t sacrifice yourself for anyone. For your own sake, you must live happily! If you ever encounter any difficulty, don’t always try to shoulder it alone. Tell me. No matter where I am, I will come to help you…”

Before he could finish speaking, there was a sudden loud bang—the door was violently shoved open.

Ming Yu stood at the doorway, her face deathly pale. She tried to step inside but was immediately blocked by two eunuchs.

The one who had given the order was Hongli. He stood at the threshold, staring darkly at the two people inside the room.

“Your Majesty, look at these two,” said Concubine Xiaojia, who had come along with him to pay respects. Her gaze swept over them with contempt. “Back when we were still in Changchun Palace, they were already glued together like that. Now that Concubine Ling has been promoted to an imperial woman, they still refuse to give up and are stirring things up again!”

“Concubine Xiaojia, please refrain from speaking nonsense,” Ming Yu said, wrenching herself free from the two eunuchs’ grasp. “Today is the anniversary of the late Empress’s death. Concubine Ling once served the late Empress—this is merely a chance encounter!”

“Where in the world are there so many ‘chance encounters’? It’s clearly premeditated,” Concubine Xiaojia sneered. Turning to Hongli, she added fuel to the fire: “Your Majesty, today is the late Empress’s memorial day, yet these two chose this very place for a secret rendezvous. Not only is it shameless—it is utter disrespect!”

“A secret rendezvous?” Wei Yingluo looked at her. “Did you personally witness us being intimate? We merely exchanged a few words, and that becomes a rendezvous? Are all the dozens of palace maids and eunuchs in Changchun Palace dead?”

Her reasoning was sound—even if they were having a secret meeting, no one would choose such a crowded, public place. But Concubine Xiaojia had no intention of reasoning with her. She merely gave a mocking laugh and said, “You two calculated that His Majesty is soft-hearted and would believe such nonsense, which is exactly why you picked this time and place! Your Majesty, these two have long had a private affair. Today they were caught red-handed, yet they still try to quibble. Please do not believe their lies!”

Hongli stared at Yingluo. “Concubine Ling, apart from ‘chance encounter,’ do you have any other explanation?”

“Your Majesty!” Fuheng had not expected such an accident. He hurriedly tried to explain for her: “Today is my sister’s death anniversary. I came especially to pay my respects. Because I was delayed by an unexpected matter, I happened to run into Concubine Ling. We only spoke a few words, and they were all related to the late Empress…”

“I did not ask you!” Hongli cut him off sharply. “I am asking her! Wei Yingluo—give me an explanation!”

Seeing him advance menacingly toward Wei Yingluo as though he might strike her, Fuheng panicked and—forgetting his own position—stepped in front of her to shield her. This only further enraged Hongli. Without thinking, he shoved Fuheng with one palm. Fuheng staggered back several steps. With a clink, a hairpin slipped from his waist and fell to the ground.

Before he could react, Concubine Xiaojia had already darted forward, picked up the hairpin, and cried out dramatically: “Oh my! Isn’t this Concubine Ling’s hairpin?”

It was a pure-gold hairpin, its head shaped like a gardenia flower with six petals layered upon one another. Hongli had noticed how much she loved gardenias and specially ordered the palace workshop to craft them—four in total, in red, blue, white, and purple, all sent exclusively to Yanxi Palace. There were no duplicates.

“And you still claim it was a misunderstanding,” Concubine Xiaojia said with barely concealed triumph. “Even the token of love has appeared. This is truly catching adulterers in the act—both the person and the evidence!”

Hongli gripped the hairpin tightly, slowly raising his eyes to stare coldly at Wei Yingluo. “Wei Yingluo—is this your answer to me?”

Ming Yu cried out in shock: “Your Majesty, this hairpin is something Her Ladyship lost! Someone deliberately planted it to frame her—this is a frame-up!”

By now Fuheng had also realized he had fallen into a carefully laid trap. With his martial skills, it should have been impossible for anyone to plant something on him without him noticing—unless…

“It was that little eunuch!” Fuheng suddenly came to his senses and said urgently to Hongli, “Just now a eunuch brought in sacrificial offerings and bumped into me, causing me to spill something on my clothes. I took off my outer robe to change—that was when someone must have taken the opportunity! Your Majesty, please summon the eunuch named Xiaoluzi. One interrogation will reveal the truth!”

But there was no need to summon him. A thin, small figure darted out from the crowd, threw himself to the ground with a thud, and began kowtowing frantically to Hongli. “Your Majesty, this humble servant is Xiaoluzi, but this servant has never seen any hairpin!”

“You—” Fuheng nearly drew his sword in fury, hating himself for being too soft-hearted. Not only had he harmed himself, but now he had harmed Wei Yingluo as well.

Hongli’s expression grew darker and darker; he looked on the verge of exploding in rage.

Suddenly, Wei Yingluo burst into loud laughter directed at Concubine Xiaojia. “Concubine Xiaojia, your acting is so clumsy I can’t even bear to watch anymore… Xiaoquanzi—kneel!”

Xiaoquanzi looked utterly bewildered, not understanding why she had suddenly called his name. Under so many watchful eyes, he could only shuffle forward and kneel.

“Speak,” Wei Yingluo said calmly. “Who instructed you to steal that item? If you won’t say… then I shall hand you over to Noble Consort Chun.”

Everyone found it strange. If a palace servant had committed an offense and needed to be punished, why not hand them over to the Bureau of Careful Punishment? Or at the very least, deliver them to the Empress? What on earth did handing them over to Noble Consort Chun mean?

Only Xiaoquanzi shuddered, staring at her in horror as the realization struck him: She knows everything.

Wei Yingluo looked at him coldly. Of course she knew. From the very beginning, she had suspected that Xiaoquanzi had most likely been bought off by someone. Otherwise, why would he steal a handkerchief of all things? A handkerchief couldn’t fetch much money at all, but it was perfectly suited for framing someone.

That was why she had never truly trusted him. The only reason she had kept him around was because he still had his uses.

—and that use was precisely for today! This very moment!

“Think carefully. Noble Consort Chun is not me.” Wei Yingluo stared at Xiaoquanzi, her words carrying heavy implication. “She will certainly… punish you very thoroughly.”

Once Noble Consort Chun learns that it was you who bought back the stolen goods and sold them at her Jiangnan market stall, she will make you wish for death but be unable to die!

   Xiaoquanzi understood the meaning behind her words. His face turned deathly pale in an instant. Only now did he realize why Wei Yingluo had never pursued the crime of his theft. Earlier he had secretly rejoiced, even thinking she was weak and easy to bully. Now he understood it had all been one long, interlocking trap.

Gritting his teeth, he decided that rather than offending both Noble Consort Chun and Wei Yingluo at the same time, he would rather offend Concubine Xiaojia. He immediately shouted loudly:

“It was Concubine Xiaojia! It was all instigated by Concubine Xiaojia! She ordered this slave to steal Her Ladyship Concubine Ling’s hairpin. Although this slave did steal the hairpin, I never intended to use it to slander Her Ladyship Concubine Ling! Your Majesty, have mercy! Concubine Ling, have mercy!”

Concubine Xiaojia turned pale with shock. She had never expected this worthless dog of a servant to turn on her so easily and completely. She hurriedly cried out:

“Nonsense! You’re slandering me with blood on your tongue! Your Majesty, this little eunuch belongs to Yanxi Palace—of course he would speak up for Concubine Ling!”

If she didn’t bring Concubine Xiaojia down now, she would surely face vicious revenge later. Xiaoquanzi simply went all in:

“The gold Concubine Xiaojia gave this slave is all hidden under my bed! The person who handled it was her senior palace maid, Lan’er. If Your Majesty does not believe me, just subject her to strict interrogation—she will confess everything!”

Lan’er was an old servant Concubine Xiaojia had brought from her own family—a girl from a small, humble household with naturally timid character. She didn’t even need to be tortured; the scene before her eyes alone was enough to terrify her. With a thud, she dropped to her knees.

—Which was as good as a confession.

   A thousand calculations, ten thousand schemes, and in the end she was defeated by such a coward. Concubine Xiaojia was furious beyond measure. She raised her hand and slapped Lan’er hard across the face—but in the very next moment, Hongli delivered a slap to her.

Hongli looked at her coldly:

“From this day forward, Concubine Xiaojia is confined to Chuxiu Palace. Without my command, she is not permitted to leave!”

“Your Majesty, no! This concubine knows she was wrong! This concubine knows her mistake—please do not confine me, I beg you!” Concubine Xiaojia crawled forward on her knees, clinging desperately to Hongli’s boots and weeping bitterly. But Hongli ignored her completely. With one kick he sent her sprawling and strode away.

Watching his departing figure, then looking down at the sobbing Concubine Xiaojia, and finally turning to Wei Yingluo—who stood there smiling calmly—Fuheng suddenly understood everything.

—The reason Wei Yingluo had deliberately kept him behind to talk today was most likely so she could leave an obvious flaw for Concubine Xiaojia to step right into this trap.

“Wei Yingluo!” At last Concubine Xiaojia realized the truth. Hair disheveled, she whipped her head around. “You set me up!”

Wei Yingluo laughed softly.

“Was it you who set me up, or was it I who set you you?”

If one harbors no intent to harm others, one will never step into such a trap.

In the end, before Concubine Xiaojia bent down to pick up that hairpin and began framing her, Wei Yingluo had no idea who had instigated Xiaoquanzi, nor did she know who would be the one stepping into the trap today.

One phrase summed it up perfectly: One reaps what one sows.

“Hah, do you think you’ve won?” Concubine Xiaojia snarled viciously at her. “Let me tell you something—His Majesty may despise me now, but he has not forgiven you either! Your secret rendezvous are a fact. He will never see you again! Concubine Ling, I may be finished, but you won’t come out of this unscathed either!”

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