The incense in Nuanyun Hall was overpowering. Xu Wanqing reclined lazily on the couch, idly playing with her freshly painted nails, and said with disdain: “So you mean that Consort Jiang, shameless as ever, actually blocked His Majesty at the gates of Qianqing Palace, clamoring to attend the Hunting Festival?”
Li Yinyao nodded slightly. “Indeed. But… His Majesty seemed greatly angered by it.”
Though obstructing the emperor was technically against palace rules, Xu Wanqing did not consider it a grave offense. His Majesty doted on her—whether she blocked his way or even trespassed into the palace halls, he had never reproached her once.
As for Consort Jiang, feared by both court and harem for years, Xu Wanqing had thought her formidable. Yet clearly she was no match for Xu Wanqing’s hold on the emperor’s heart.
Smiling with satisfaction, Xu Wanqing waved her hand. “You are sharper than the other newcomers to uncover such important news. You must have gone to some effort.”
Li Yinyao neither complained nor fawned. “I merely did my duty, Your Ladyship. You flatter me.”
Xu Wanqing found this pleasing. From childhood, whether in the Xu household or the harem, those who served her always showered her with gratitude.
“And did you see Consort Jiang yourself? Between her and me, who is more beautiful?”
Xu Wanqing had heard that Consort Jiang’s looks were exceptional—so much so that even the censorate, which usually dismissed all consorts’ beauty as trivial, had once denounced her in court as a ‘calamity of beauty.’
But Xu Wanqing felt no fear. Of all the women in the palace, only she had been admitted at a single glance, chosen by His Majesty purely for her beauty. Consort Jiang had not. Still, curiosity lingered—what kind of face could provoke such censure?
Li Yinyao had not seen Jiang Nian herself; she had only bribed the guards for information. Yet to achieve her aim, she replied: “Consort Jiang’s beauty is indeed striking. However…” She lifted her gaze to Xu Wanqing’s elegant face. “She is still inferior to Your Ladyship.”
Others might have thought Li Yinyao was currying favor, but Xu Wanqing believed her sincere. She had always been confident in her own looks.
“Very well. You serve me, and I will not treat you poorly. Speak—what do you want?”
At last, the moment had come.
Li Yinyao pressed her fingertips together, suppressing her excitement, and said calmly: “My elder brother has been honored with selection into the imperial guard for the Hunting Festival. We have always been close since childhood. I beg Your Ladyship to allow me to accompany you, so that I might see him there.”
Xu Wanqing was silent. She had expected a request for jewels or perhaps a plea to whisper in the emperor’s ear. The former she would grant without hesitation; the latter she would never allow—His Majesty was hers alone. How could a mere beauty presume to share his bed?
Yet Li Yinyao asked only this. To see her brother was harmless enough. But what if she used the Hunting Festival to catch His Majesty’s eye and seek favor?
Li Yinyao, sensing her hesitation, quickly added: “Your Ladyship need not worry. I ask for no recognition as a consort. If I may only see my brother, I am willing to disguise myself as one of your palace maids.”
Xu Wanqing studied her closely. Her skin was fair, but her looks were merely delicate—no different from most consorts in the harem, hardly remarkable. Even if she tried to win favor, His Majesty would likely have no interest.
More importantly, Consort Jiang was desperately clinging to His Majesty, begging to attend the Hunting Festival. If Xu Wanqing secured another beauty’s place instead, it would be a sharp slap in Jiang Nian’s face. She had overreached—and now Xu Wanqing could enjoy putting her down.
No threat, and an opportunity to humiliate Jiang Nian. Xu Wanqing agreed with delight: “Rest assured. No need to disguise yourself as a maid. I will see that His Majesty appoints you.”
Spring arrived. The gardens revived—green bamboo, willows, leaves bursting with fresh color. It was once again time for the annual Hunting Festival.
As the grandest ceremony of the Great Zhou dynasty, this year’s procession was especially magnificent.
The golden phoenix carriage gleamed, dragon patterns embroidered on gold foil seeming to come alive with each flicker of light. Imperial guards in silver armor, blades in hand, surrounded the emperor’s carriage in a dense formation.
Behind the carriage, palace maids stretched in endless ranks, all dressed in uniform mist-gray skirts.
The layered hems shimmered with golden butterflies at the corners. Each maid carried nine-dragon palace lanterns or jade dusters, flanking the imperial carriage on both sides, their steps light, ornaments chiming.
Ancient bells tolled softly, the emperor’s carriage lifted, and dozens of sedan chairs followed in grand procession.
The pace was brisk to avoid delay. The road was long, and though the maids sweated from exhaustion, none dared show it—heads bowed respectfully as they walked.
Yet within this orderly line, one figure stood out. She rubbed her arm, shifted her leg, then quickly lowered her gaze whenever anyone looked.
Rong Chengguang noticed several times. Fearing to disturb His Majesty, he held his tongue. But when the maid once again rubbed her arm, he looked closer—and recognized her face. Hair pinned with the same floral ornaments, dressed in the same mist-gray skirt, her little face plain save for a touch of lip color. Yet her features were delicate, her brows soft as mist, beauty impossible to ignore. Who else could it be but Consort Jiang?
Rong Chengguang was startled. He had not expected her to be so stubborn—enduring hardship just to follow beside the emperor’s carriage. If he reported this now, and His Majesty’s anger had not cooled, her plans would be ruined.
The procession reached the steepest slope. Jiang Nian’s legs went numb, her cheeks flushed. Lian Zhi, worried she could not endure, whispered: “Your Ladyship, the road is long. You may not withstand it. Shall I report to Eunuch Rong?”
Jiang Nian shook her head. “No. If Rong Chengguang tells His Majesty now, he will surely send me back to the palace.”
This was a matter of life and death—she could not retreat. But she was so weary she grew dazed. Stepping on a loose stone, she slipped forward.
“Ah!”
Fortunately, Lian Zhi caught her before she fell. Still, the sound startled others. The imperial carriage halted. Jiang Nian instantly lowered her head, trembling.
“What was that noise?”
The cold voice rang out. Rong Chengguang glanced at Jiang Nian and replied: “Reporting to Your Majesty, a new maidservant slipped.” He emphasized *new* heavily. Everyone knew His Majesty’s temper—whether new or veteran, any servant who erred faced punishment.
The brocade curtain lifted. Qi Yi cast a glance at the cowering maid. “Those legs of yours—do you still want them?”
Jiang Nian’s heart lurched. She had never realized Qi Yi could be so cruel. Just for a slip, he threatened to cut off her legs. Terrified, she dared not feign meekness any longer. Her voice shook as she pleaded: “Th-this servant slipped by accident, disturbing Your Majesty. Please spare me—do not take my legs. I swear I will never stumble again.”
The palace attendants broke into a cold sweat. What kind of maid begged only with words, without kneeling or kowtowing? Surely today her fate was grim.