Jiang Nian slept unusually well that night. When His Majesty awoke, she busied herself with eager devotion—helping him dress, helping him wash.
Qi Yi glanced at her several times, as though guessing her hidden thoughts. “What is it you want now?”
Jiang Nian gave a guilty little laugh. “Your Majesty truly is wise and perceptive—one look and you’ve already seen through my little scheme.”
Qi Yi adjusted his sleeves, unmoved. “Speak then. Whatever it is, I will not grant it.”
Her lips drooped, head lowered in disappointment, her voice pitiful: “Your Majesty allowing me to remain by your side is already the greatest favor. But might you hunt a white fox for me?”
A white fox? Qi Yi’s gaze fell on her shoulder. He remembered she had a white fox cloak—fine in quality, warm against the cold. Was it burned when Fu Garden was destroyed?
The tent fell silent for a long while. When it was time to depart, Qi Yi still had not said yes or no.
Jiang Nian felt a faint sadness. After he left, Lian Zhi came in to keep her company. “Your Ladyship, did His Majesty agree?”
Jiang Nian shook her head. “He said nothing, but I think not.”
Lian Zhi sighed. “It’s all right, Your Ladyship. Spring has already begun. Even if a white fox were made into a cloak, it could only be worn in winter. In time, we can think of another way.”
“I don’t want it for a cloak for His Majesty.”
Every time she touched Qi Yi, his body felt unnaturally cold. A cloak could only be worn in winter, but he seemed chilled all year round.
The late emperor had been notoriously lustful, leaving many sons in the harem. Qi Yi, though born of the empress, was unloved by the emperor, and so unloved himself. The third prince, Qi Yuan, son of the favored Consort Zhang, was spoiled beyond measure. He and other princes often bullied Qi Yi. At seven years old, in the dead of winter, Qi Yi was lured into the woods by Qi Yuan and abandoned there. His attendants were sent away. He froze alone until nightfall, when the empress finally discovered his absence and sent men to find him.
Qi Yi did not die, but he was left with a chronic cold illness, sick for years. Though his health later improved, his body remained icy to the touch.
In a few months, it would be Qi Yi’s birthday. Jiang Nian thought a small, delicate white fox fur warmer would be the perfect gift—both practical and heartfelt.
“So that’s it, Your Ladyship. If His Majesty does not hunt one, I’ll see if we can buy a white fox taken outside the palace.”
No matter how fine, one from outside could never match the royal hunting grounds. But it was the best fallback.
“Yes… that will have to do.”
The hunt lasted long, with no return until evening.
The Empress arranged resting places for the consorts. They sat together, chatting idly as they waited for His Majesty’s return.
Li Yinyao found an excuse to slip away. Cautiously, she moved into the shadows and whispered to a man: “Brother, this hunt may bring danger. If anything happens to His Majesty, you must tell me first.”
Li Feng was bewildered. How had his sister changed so much—so clever, almost prophetic? In just one year, she had risen from obscurity, helping him leap from a seventh-rank soldier to a trusted guard at His Majesty’s side, and seizing every chance to advance their father’s career. Now the Li family even had the privilege of sending women into the palace for selection.
Li Feng saw his sister’s resolute expression and firmly committed her words to heart. “Rest easy, little sister. If His Majesty truly meets with misfortune, I will be the first to tell you.”
If things unfolded as she foresaw, and they managed to save His Majesty, then she would surely gain favor in the harem, and both he and the Li family would rise higher still.
Having given her instructions, Li Yinyao returned—just in time to overhear the consorts complaining.
Consort He sighed: “It has been nearly a month, and His Majesty has not summoned a single consort to his bed. How can state affairs be so endlessly busy?”
Consort Yuan set down her pastry and offered comfort: “Sister He, there is no need to worry. Every year at the start of spring, His Majesty is burdened with duties. In time, things will ease.”
“You don’t understand, Sister Yuan. A new batch of girls has entered the harem. I fear they are too tender and fresh, and His Majesty will soon forget women like me.”
Just days ago, Consort He had visited the newcomers’ quarters. Some were as lovely as blossoms, which left her itching with envy. Her own mother, she thought bitterly, should have birthed her with greater beauty—then she would not live in constant anxiety.
Consort Yuan, mild by nature and always on good terms with the harem, soothed her: “Sister He, the harem is full of beauties—you know this. But His Majesty has no taste for mere looks. Those newcomers cannot compare to you.”
With Consort Yuan’s reassurance, Consort He and the others calmed somewhat.
“Truly, Lady Yuan understands His Majesty best. With your words, we older ones need not fear being outshone by the new arrivals,” said Beauty Meng.
“Surely, before long, His Majesty will summon someone to his bed.”
“Yes, yes,” the others agreed, nodding, the atmosphere finally easing.
Then a mocking voice cut through: “Even without newcomers, His Majesty would not spare you a glance. What’s the point of comforting yourselves? If you lack the ability to serve in bed, then you lack it—what has that to do with newcomers? If I were a man, I too would prefer the beautiful ones.”
Consort He flushed red, hearing the barb aimed at her plain looks. “Consort Xu, though you are indeed beautiful, must your words be so cruel?”
Consort Yuan frowned in displeasure. “We are all sisters of the harem. Why must Consort Xu deliberately wound them?”
With Consort Yuan’s support, the lower-ranked consorts also fixed their eyes coldly on Consort Xu.
Xu Qingwan gave a dismissive hum, mocking: “Did I say anything untrue? Before those newcomers arrived, how many times were you summoned to His Majesty’s bed? Consort He, I believe you have not been summoned even once, have you?”
“And you claim Consort Yuan understands His Majesty? If I recall correctly, since entering the palace, you have only been summoned three times. That’s barely more than the rest of them. And yet you dare to play teacher here? Aren’t you afraid people will laugh if word spreads?”
Her words were brutally blunt. Yuan’s face turned pale with anger, but she could not refute—after all, among those present, it was indeed Xu Qingwan who had been summoned the most, and who enjoyed His Majesty’s favor.
Having stirred their resentment, Xu Qingwan felt pleased. She leisurely lifted her tea, but before she could drink, Consort Su suddenly spoke: “You say we lack ability, but I see little ability in you, Consort Xu.”
Xu Qingwan set down her cup, staring directly at her. Consort Su met her gaze without fear, smiling: “This past month, His Majesty has not summoned you either. How are you any different from us?”
Xu Qingwan hated being grouped with the neglected consorts. “Consort Su, His Majesty cherishes me deeply. This month is only due to his busy affairs. How dare you compare me with the likes of you?”
Consort Su laughed softly, flicking her sleeve: “What is there not to compare? Have you never heard—those who serve by beauty alone, how long can it last? Perhaps His Majesty has already grown weary of you. What use is beauty? Age comes, and beauty fades.”
“I say, sisters need not worry about being outshone by newcomers. We do not rely on beauty to serve His Majesty. The one who should truly worry is Consort Xu. If a younger, lovelier face appears, the first to lose favor will be you.”
“What have we to fear?”
Xu Qingwan had never been spoken to so harshly in her life. Her face changed at once. “You—!”
“His Majesty arrives!”