Qixiang Hall
The maid Zhiluò was preparing to extinguish the lights when she noticed Consort Shu still awake, staring absentmindedly at the bowl of pregnancy-supporting medicine in her hands. She sighed silently.
With heirs in the harem increasing year by year, ever since Consort Shu had a miscarriage four years ago, her belly had shown no sign of life.
“Your Highness, it’s late. You should rest now,” Zhiluò said, taking the bowl and gently coaxing her.
Consort Shu lay back, her eyes fixed on the edge of the bed. “Where is His Majesty now?”
Zhiluò replied softly, “The emperor left Kunning Palace and went straight to Caiyun Hall.”
Caiyun Hall was the residence of Rong Zhao Yi.
For ten days out of the past month, the emperor had gone to Caiyun Hall.
This alone demonstrated his favor toward Rong Zhao Yi.
Consort Shu turned slightly, staring at the cold wall. “Extinguish the lights.”
To outsiders, it might appear that the emperor doted on her as well.
Only Consort Shu knew the difference: what the emperor valued in her was her thoughtfulness, her gentle demeanor, her unwavering compliance.
Yangwei Hall – Side Chamber
Wanpin was too angry to sleep. She had already caused a scene during the day, and now, in the dead of night, she could not help but cry out.
Her face throbbed in pain, but her heart ached even more.
Her attendant, Qingqing, stayed by her side all night, soothing her. “Master, the emperor removed your night-service token only so you could rest. Once your injuries heal, you can resume attending him.”
Hearing this, Wanpin did not feel comforted; tears flowed endlessly.
If it weren’t for the damage to her face, would this have happened?
If her face could not heal properly, she would never regain the emperor’s favor.
“Quick, go fetch the ointment the imperial physician prescribed and apply it to me,” Wanpin urged, scrambling out of bed.
Qingqing reluctantly grabbed her arm. “Master, you’ve already applied it many times today. You need to rest properly; that’s the only way you’ll heal faster.”
Hearing this, Wanpin seemed to regain her senses. Accepting it, she hurried back to bed.
The darkness of night covered everything, but it was far from peaceful.
Kunning Palace
News spread quickly.
The empress needed rest due to her poor health, so the concubines of other palaces were exempt from visiting her.
Naturally, those who had been spying on the situation had no qualms.
There was no need to go to the empress; instead, they hurried to Consort De’s Chuxiu Palace.
After all, Consort De was the mother of the eldest prince and now held authority over the palaces.
How could that not attract attention?
Soon, Chuxiu Palace became crowded, while Kunning Palace was left sparse and quiet.
Recently, with leisure days, Hua Shu occupied herself with tending flowers, fishing, reciting scriptures, and maintaining her skills in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.
She nurtured both beauty and mind.
Hua Shu’s complexion, appearance, and even her aura visibly improved.
Wen Momo, seeing her mistress practicing calligraphy, set down the chilled fruit platter.
Even while adapting to the recent changes in her mistress, she could not help but admire her more closely.
Previously, her mistress valued dignity above all. In everything she did, she upheld the title of empress, always poised, always proper.
One could say she was learning how to be an empress.
Now, however, she seemed fully integrated with the title itself. There was a subtle sense of relaxation without losing authority, an ease in her movements, a command in her speech that inspired obedience.
It was clear that her mistress had truly mastered the role.
Wen Momo felt genuine happiness for her.
Even though Kunning Palace was in a precarious position, as long as her mistress stood firm, everything would fall into place.
Yun Xiu entered to report, “Your Highness, Consort Hui has arrived.”
Hua Shu looked up, remembering she had arranged to enjoy the flowers with Consort Hui. “Take her to the tea room to wait.”
Meanwhile, Wen Momo assisted her mistress with her garments and remarked, “Consort Hui remains loyal to Your Highness.”
Even after Hua Shu lost the Phoenix Seal, Consort Hui had never visited Chuxiu Palace but often came to Kunning Palace to pay her respects.
Hua Shu’s eyes remained forward, lost in thought. Suddenly, she spoke: “The second prince is two years old, isn’t he?”
Wen Momo paused, then nodded.
The second prince was Consort Hui’s son.
The empress had been in the palace over two years, and due to her weak health, her pregnancy had not progressed.
Previously, her interactions with Consort Hui were strategic.
After all, Consort Hui’s father had once been a retainer of the Hua family, making her a convenient ally.
Though Consort Hui maintained close relations with the empress, she rarely appeared with the second prince, claiming he was weak and could not be exposed to the elements.
Now the empress asked about him—was she intending to take him over?
Hua Shu said nothing further. She donned a simple, dark-gold dress. A dark red lotus flower adornment graced her brows. Her eyes sparkled with life, giving her presence an almost animate quality.
Soon, Consort Hui accompanied the empress outside to stroll and admire the flowers. Her gaze inevitably fell on the empress.
“I have always loved lotuses in summer,” Hua Shu said, her lips curved in a faint smile as she looked at a nearby pond of twin blossoms.
Consort Hui followed her gaze, assuming the empress was comparing herself to the lotus. She praised, “Lotuses rise unsullied from the mud, pure yet elegant. Your taste is impeccable.”
Hua Shu smiled lightly. “Twin lotuses bloom together, like fairies descending from the Jade Terrace. I simply find their beauty pleasing.”
She liked things superficially, without attachment.
She disliked constraints or being confined.
Everyone must live their own lives; she, though an empress, was still human.
Consort Hui fell silent, surprised by her answer.
Unsure of her meaning, she dared not speak recklessly. Could the empress be teasing—or did she have deeper intentions?
Consort Hui speculated silently when she heard the empress say, “Has the second prince’s health improved?”
The second prince was her precious one.
Hearing the empress mention him, her heart nearly leapt from her chest.
She could not hesitate. She knelt, “Your Highness, the second prince is feeling better, but the imperial physician advises he still needs rest.”
Hua Shu simply regarded her. “Is that so.”
It was not a question—merely a statement.
Consort Hui’s heart raced. Matters of the harem could never be hidden from the empress. Her eyes reddened. “Your Highness, I only have the second prince. I beg your mercy. Whatever you ask of me, I shall comply.”
Her household had long urged her to hand the prince over to the empress, but how could she part with her child?
All the worldly gains in the world could not replace her joy at her son’s side.
Hua Shu appraised her carefully. Consort Hui was dignified, and the sight of her crying now held a unique charm.
“Consort Hui, I have no interest in raising another’s child. But I cannot tolerate one thing: lies and betrayal,” Hua Shu said evenly.
Consort Hui, heartened that the empress would not raise the second prince, tried to express her loyalty—then heard Hua Shu continue:
“Those who betray… shall die!”
The authority of her position pressed down. Consort Hui trembled uncontrollably.
She knelt, hands folded at her forehead, bowing deeply beneath Hua Shu’s skirts.
“Your Highness, I shall follow your lead and never dare betray you!”