It was just after sunrise when they emerged, the heat already oppressive enough to stir a fire in one’s heart, a bead of sweat forming on the brow.
The Empress’s palace naturally had ice set out early, so the heat wasn’t felt inside the hall, but stepping outside, waves of hot air rushed to meet them.
Under the guidance of Aunt Fu from the Empress’s palace, the consorts filed out of Zhengyang Palace one by one. Along the passageway, sedan chairs adorned with gold and floral patterns were lined up, though their owners were in no hurry to board.
Leading the way was Shi Shuyi, her hair styled in a low chignon and adorned with a few regulation hairpieces. She wore only a slate-blue skirt embroidered with chrysanthemums of myriad blessings, looking sickly and listless. Even the thick powder on her face couldn’t conceal her pallor.
As she emerged, Shi Shuyi said nothing, merely nodding to the higher-ranking consorts—Consort Miao, Consort Yu, Consort Meng, and Consort Zhou—before boarding her sedan chair without so much as a glance at the others.
Shi Shuyi was a senior figure, originally selected alongside the deposed Empress Guo during Empress Dowager Liu’s selection of a new empress. Once favored, she had gradually withered like dying embers after a miscarriage, lacking the vitality still seen in consorts like Consort Meng.
Consort Miao was a petite woman with a gentle, soft-spoken manner. As she spoke, she said, “I originally came today to see Lady Xue, but it seems I’ve encountered this unfortunate affair instead.” A tasseled hairpin with pearls at her temple made her face appear even smaller.
Before Xue Dongyu could respond, Consort Zhou, her slender brows raised, took over the conversation. “Sister Miao, there’s no need to worry. We’ll all be living in the same palace from now on—there will be plenty of time to get to know one another properly.”
Consort Zhou had a bright and striking appearance. Today, she wore jewelry mostly in gold and red tones adorned with gemstones, and she was known for her quick, straightforward speech.
A scoffing sound drew everyone’s attention—it came from Consort Yu. Facing the many gazes, she acted as though she hadn’t noticed, picking up her handkerchief and turning to leave. Casually, she tossed over a remark: “You may have plenty of free time, but don’t assume others are as idle as you.”
Consort Zhou knew Consort Yu had a peculiar temperament—always sharp-tongued and sarcastic, her words meant to sting. She took pleasure in unsettling others, though Consort Zhou usually paid her no mind. Finding the exchange uninteresting, she offered a few perfunctory pleasantries before departing as well.
The remaining consorts, still eager to exchange barbs, fell silent when Consort Meng raised her hand and beckoned Xue Dongyu. “A’Yu, come here.”
Xue Dongyu boarded her sedan chair, where Bai Xing presented her with a cup of red maple tea. Sipping the sweet, soothing drink, Xue Dongyu hung her head dejectedly. “Cousin, has Consort Zhang always been like this?”
She never imagined that the gentle and courteous Consort Zhang from Song Dynasty history would be this way—after all, her posthumous title included the characters “Wen Cheng” (Gentle and Accomplished). Xue Dongyu realized she had been too naive. The imperial harem was no easy place to navigate, and Consort Zhang’s slap had jolted her awake, much like Consort Hua’s “ten-foot red” had awakened Zhen Huan.
Hearing Xue Dongyu’s words, Consort Meng furrowed her brow. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. Consort Zhang achieved favor at a young age and, while somewhat spoiled, was only ever particular about food and clothing, along with lacking proper etiquette.”
Consort Meng noticed Xue Dongyu staring intently at her and smiled, using a handkerchief to wipe sweat from Xue's forehead as she continued, "Since Princess Anshou passed away two months ago, this is the first time I've seen her. Our dynasty governs with propriety, and even palace maids are not subjected to corporal punishment by the aunties. Yet she dares to slap imperial consorts. The Empress is like a withered tree—she only watches the fate of the former Empress Guo unfold. How could she intervene? Now it all depends on Guanjia's will."
"Exclusively favored and beloved, her privileges surpassing those of the Empress."
This was the description of Consort Zhang in her brief biography. Favored consorts like her, who left their names in later generations, included Bao Si and Consort Yang before her, and "Consort Wan and Consort Donggo" after her.
The most recent example was Empress Dowager Liu E. Regardless of how history judged these women, many rituals and rules were virtually non-existent for them during their lifetimes.
Xue Dongyu wondered how the Emperor would deal with his favored consort.
Unlike Empress Guo's Zhengyang Palace, Funing Palace was filled with large-leaved, tall trees that cast deep green shade. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, scattering flecks of gold across the ground, and every detail was exquisitely beautiful.
The attendants passing by were engaged in tasks like sweeping, pruning flowers, or adding foliage, their faces wearing expressions of ease and joy.
Since entering the palace, the Empress had trodden on thin ice, trembling with fear. Her palace staff followed suit, cautious and careful, never daring to flaunt their status as the Empress's attendants.
Guanjia, though perhaps unaware of the situation above, was generally lenient toward those who served him. As for the harem's expenditures, no one would dare to shortchange Funing Palace. Naturally, its inhabitants lived happily.
In the main hall, several blue-and-white porcelain ice containers with intertwined water dragon patterns were arranged in a staggered manner, continuously emitting a refreshing coolness.
On the table, a gold-inlaid dragon-head incense burner with borneol released a light, soothing fragrance that made one drowsy.
Though the master of the hall had closed his eyes, his fingers were still turning the 108 Jade Buddha Beads one by one. Zhang Maoze bowed low and recounted the events at Zhengyang Palace without any personal emotion.
After a long while, Zhao Zhen opened his eyes. His jade-like face betrayed neither joy nor anger. "Did she cause trouble for Noble Lady Zhao?"
Zhang Maoze bowed even lower. Hearing the words from above, he couldn't quite grasp Guanjia's thoughts. In recent days, those around him hadn't noticed anything amiss, but he vaguely sensed that Guanjia had changed significantly.
In his eyes, Consort Zhang was not only favored as she had been in the past but was also now nearly eight months pregnant—a treasure in every sense. Noble Lady Zhao, though she had accompanied Guanjia for a long time, had little old affection to speak of and carried no precious child in her womb. The difference in their importance was clear at a glance, yet Zhang Maoze dared not speak recklessly.
He carefully reviewed the events in his mind before cautiously replying, "Guanjia, perhaps Consort Zhang is prone to irritability during pregnancy."
That was why she couldn't restrain herself upon hearing Noble Lady Zhao's gossip.
Zhao Zhen chuckled. Even this long-time companion of his didn't understand the meaning behind his words.
What puzzled him was that Consort Zhang's target of anger was misplaced. After all these years, he still remembered the temperament of his former favored consort.
Noble Lady Zhao's words might have provoked her dislike, but there was also Lady Xue, who was also pregnant and rumored to have won his favor. Her hostility should have been directed at Lady Xue instead.
Having witnessed the Song dynasty's decline from prosperity to the catastrophe at Yashan after his death, Zhao Zhen had sometimes descended into madness, cursing heaven and earth. Even the Old Ghost sharing his dwelling ignored him, but eventually, Zhao Zhen calmed down.
Day after day, he pondered affairs of state, sought advice from great sages and emperors who lingered in the mortal realm, and repeatedly scrutinized his governance policies. He reflected countless times on what he had done wrong in the past and how he should have corrected it.
Heaven took pity, allowing him to inexplicably return for another chance. On the very day he came back, he lay in bed for most of the day, his emotions surging like a tidal wave and a mountain collapsing.
He had thought everything remained unchanged. Relying on the memories and methods from his past life, Zhao Zhen gradually steered court affairs back on track.
In the harem, however, Zhao Zhen found little interest. Every woman had once accompanied him only to leave later. He knew what they would do and how their stories would end.
He had assumed nothing would change, but then he suddenly heard an unfamiliar name from those around him.
Lady Xue.
Zhang Maoze asked, "Guanjia, the decree for Lady Xue’s promotion has already been issued. Would Guanjia like to grant any additional rewards?"
Who was she? From Zhang Maoze’s words, she had been promoted due to pregnancy, but there had been no such person in his previous life.
Zhao Zhen searched within this body for memories of her—a smiling face, fresh as dew-kissed flowers. Only then did he recall that in this very year, a Xiapei surnamed Xue had died in Pifang Hall.
It was only because Consort Meng of Pifang Hall, who had always been unambitious and non-confrontational, had unusually come to plead with him to grant Xue Xiapei a higher status for burial. The strangeness of the matter had left a faint impression in his mind.
He observed this unexpected variable with curiosity, wondering what changes she might bring to Zhao Zhen’s monotonous life.
Although he hadn’t yet decided whether to approach her, he occasionally thought to send her some rewards.
This time, he had expected Consort Zhang to cause trouble for Lady Xue, but it seemed that whenever people or matters encountered her, unexpected situations arose.
Zhao Zhen rested his chin on his hand, pondering for a moment. "Send some newly arrived pearls from the south to Noble Lady Zhao’s palace and grant her permission to ride a sedan chair within the palace."
Zhang Maoze bowed in acknowledgment, thinking to himself that Guanjia was indeed biased toward Consort Zhang. Rewarding Noble Lady Zhao was meant to placate her.
Still, Noble Lady Zhao didn’t lose out. Riding a sedan chair was a privilege reserved for those of the Cairen rank. Permitting Noble Lady Zhao to use one hinted at an impending promotion.
Noble Lady Zhao lacked favor, so exchanging a slap for a promotion meant she had no choice but to swallow this hidden grievance.
Zhao Zhen spoke again, "Send someone to Consort Zhang’s palace. Consort Zhang has been disrespectful and is to be confined to her quarters for one month."
His tone was utterly indifferent. Consort Zhang had indeed been his favored consort in the past, but not to mention how centuries had dulled his emotions, even his feelings for her back then could hardly be described as profound. It was merely her unrestrained and proud demeanor that had appealed to Zhao Zhen, who was bound by rules and conventions.
Posthumously honoring her as empress was more about considering the three princesses and undermining Empress Cao. The powerless emperor had used this to vent his frustration over the heavy constraints he faced.
Zhao Zhen began turning the Jade Buddha Beads again, recalling how Xue Dongyu had trembled like a quail during this incident. He chuckled softly—such a young girl.
Zhang Maoze’s mind was in turmoil. What exactly did Guanjia mean?
Consort Zhang was punished with confinement, but only for a month. Though the punishment seemed light, everyone knew Consort Zhang was eight months pregnant and her condition was unstable. It was entirely possible that the confinement might provoke premature labor. Had Consort Zhang fallen out of favor?
It didn’t seem so either.
No matter how much Zhang Maoze racked his brains, he couldn’t fathom that this Guanjia was no longer the same person.
Empress Cao, whose dignity had also been slighted in this matter, should logically be placated as well.
But in Zhang Maoze’s eyes, the empress enjoyed neither favor nor had she borne any children. Her family’s influence had already declined, and she merely occupied the position. There was no need for him to speak on her behalf.
Zhao Zhen regarded her as if she were invisible. Even during her lifetime, he had disliked her. After his death, seeing her feign ignorance when Zhao Zongshi moved his spirit tablet aside to posthumously honor his own parents as emperor, he had been furious.
But time heals all wounds. Of course, Empress Cao ultimately met no good end either—her privileges were reduced, she was relocated to a different palace, and she could not even maintain the dignity befitting an empress dowager.
Empress Cao had come this morning originally for Xue Dongyu, hoping to pull this new favorite into her own faction, but she had been left livid by Consort Zhang.
After everyone had left, she closed her eyes for a moment, then suddenly slammed her palm hard onto the rosewood table.
The mutton-fat jade ruyi bracelet on her wrist instantly shattered into several pieces. The broken jade edges cut her hand, and bright red blood seeped out.
Nanny Ping, who was attending to her, was horrified and cried out, "Consort!" The senior palace maids, Ruyi and Shunxin, hurriedly fetched the medicine chest and picked up the fragments.
Empress Cao let them bustle about as she spoke, "What meaning is there in me being empress? Is my fate truly this bitter?"
Nanny Ping was her wet nurse, having raised Empress Cao from infancy to adulthood. In her heart, even a biological son could not compare to Empress Cao. Hearing this, her heart ached unbearably.
Tears fell from Nanny Ping's eyes, but she forced herself to comfort the empress, "Consort, do not think such thoughts. You are the empress of the dynasty, and no one in the world is more blessed than you. It is only that there are always petty people who cannot bear to see you prosper. You are the mistress—no matter what, they cannot surpass you."
Empress Cao smiled bitterly. "The only true master in this palace is the Guanjia. Enough, I must have been driven mad by anger today to speak such words."
Nanny Ping grew even more sorrowful, her hatred for Consort Zhang deepening.