Chongqian Palace.
It was time for the daily greetings once again.
Although the Empress managed the affairs of the inner palace, her temperament was aloof, and she did not impose many restrictions on the palace residents. Greetings were not a daily necessity except during festivals and holidays; it was only required to visit Chongqian Palace every five days.
Currently, there were not many consorts in the Emperor’s inner palace. Apart from the old-timers who had followed him from his princely residence, there were a few others who entered the palace when the Emperor first ascended the throne. In recent years, only Consort Li had joined.
The hall was relatively quiet. Everyone sat properly, sipping tea without engaging in idle chatter, patiently waiting for the Empress to appear.
They did not have to wait long. In less than half an hour, the Empress arrived, supported by her personal palace maid, and waved for everyone to dispense with formalities.
After routinely discussing matters from various palaces, the Empress inquired about the Eldest Prince.
“Is the Eldest Prince’s health any better?”
The news of the Eldest Prince’s illness had spread like wildfire throughout the inner palace recently. After all, he was the only prince currently under the Emperor’s care, drawing much attention.
Consort Zhen nodded. “Thank you for your concern, Empress. He is much better now.”
The Empress said, “I still have two ginseng roots here. Take them back later and ensure he recuperates well.”
Consort Zhen stood up to express her gratitude.
Someone interjected, “The Eldest Prince is the sole seedling in our inner palace. Sister Zhen must indeed be exhausted from caring for him.”
Whether it was exhausting or not was unimportant; what mattered most was the supreme glory—a lifelong reliance. Consort Zhen merely smiled faintly at the corners of her lips. “It is my duty.”
“The imperial lineage is sparse. All sisters should share the Emperor’s burdens. Before new sisters enter the palace, it would be wonderful if there were a few more joyous events.”
After the Empress finished speaking, the hall suddenly fell silent. Some people’s expressions turned quite unpleasant. “The Emperor hasn’t visited the inner palace for a long time.”
Apart from coming to Chongqian Palace, he had only visited Zhongcui Palace once when the Eldest Prince was unwell. “If the Emperor doesn’t come, we concubines can only worry helplessly.”
Even if they were anxious, what could they do?
It was true. In two or three months, new consorts would enter the palace, and the Emperor’s already limited favor would undoubtedly be divided further.
Consort Li smoothed the large pink silk flower beside her ear and said coyly:
“Still hoping for the Emperor to visit the inner palace?”
Her makeup was exquisite and vibrant but not vulgar. Under the probing gazes of others, she remained composed:
“I heard there’s a seductress in the Imperial Presence. How could he still come to our palaces?”
She was from Jiangnan, with a somewhat dubious background, and spoke bluntly, carrying a hint of coquettishness. The word “seductress” made the Empress frown:
“What does Consort Li mean by that?”
“The people in my palace saw it! Yesterday, that seductress emerged from the Imperial Study, disheveled and draped in the Emperor’s cloak!”
The truth of this statement was unknown, but aside from the Empress and Consort Zhen, the others exchanged glances. “A palace maid?”
Consort Zhen was sipping tea. She placed the lid back on the cup and set the teacup on the table beside her:
“A few days ago, when the Eldest Prince was ill, Ziyun went to invite the Emperor and indeed saw a new face.”
She spoke lightly, but it essentially confirmed that Consort Li’s words were not false.
“No wonder the Emperor hasn’t visited the inner palace these days.”
Someone concluded.
But it was too rash and involved the Emperor. Although the Empress was not particularly interested in this matter, she still frowned slightly:
“Enough. The Emperor is busy with affairs of state, so it is quite normal that he does not often visit the inner palace. Do not recklessly speculate on the imperial will.”
“…Yes, I will strictly adhere to the Empress’s teachings.”
After the morning greetings concluded, the Empress returned to the inner hall supported by Wandong. Noticing Wandong’s hesitation, the Empress said:
“If there is something, speak.”
Wandong carefully adjusted the blanket on the Empress’s lap. “If there really is someone by the Emperor’s side in the Imperial Presence…”
The Empress lifted her eyelids slightly. “And what?”
Wandong had much she wished to say—for instance, that the Empress is the principal wife, and if there truly were someone, she should be informed first as a matter of respect; or, taking a step back, that palace maid should come to Chongqian Palace to pay respects to the Empress…
But seeing her mistress’s indifferent, cold gaze, Wandong pressed her lips together. “Your Majesty, do you truly not care? It has already been four years, and soon new Consorts will be entering the palace.”
She was the Empress’s dowry maid, having grown up with the Empress since childhood and knowing almost all her affairs.
This, of course, included the estrangement between the Emperor and Empress.
The Empress suddenly smiled. Her eyes were extremely beautiful when she smiled, yet utterly lifeless. “Let them enter the palace then. Having more young women of prime age in the palace will be pleasing to see every day.”
“Your Majesty!”
“Enough. The Emperor likes women. Whether in the Imperial Presence or before his eyes, let him be. Wandong, he is the Emperor.”
He was the Emperor, not her husband.
As for the other matters Wandong spoke of, she did not wish to discuss them further.
Wandong then fell silent. After that morning following the Lantern Festival, the Emperor’s unusual behavior upon rising had given her much to ponder, but in the end, she decided to keep it to herself. “This servant will go brew tea for you.”
“Go ahead.”
/
Imperial Study.
Lu Ping did not know what had transpired between the Emperor and Song Shutang that day, but the Emperor was in a foul mood and had not summoned Miss Song to attend him. Lu Ping could roughly guess the situation.
However, even if the Emperor did not ask, there were some matters he could not avoid mentioning. If he were held accountable afterward, he could not bear the responsibility.
As usual, he went to serve tea to the Emperor.
The Emperor took only one sip before setting the tea down with an impassive expression.
“Your Majesty, does today’s tea not suit your taste?”
“It is acceptable.”
“It must be because Miss Song is so attentive. Even this servant feels inadequate.” Observing no change in Pei Hengyu’s expression, Lu Ping continued:
“During those days she served here, she would personally collect plum blossom snow water from the imperial garden before dawn every day to brew tea for you.”
After speaking, seeing that the Emperor’s expression remained unchanged, Lu Ping composed himself and added one final remark:
“Shun Fu says Miss Song has fallen ill.”
“Am I the imperial physician?”
The Emperor finally looked up, glancing at Lu Ping. “Whose servant are you?”
Two calm yet pointed questions in succession caused Lu Ping’s expression to change. The words were far too severe. He hurriedly bowed, realizing he had misjudged the Emperor’s thoughts. “I beg Your Majesty for forgiveness.”
“Get out.”
The Emperor coldly withdrew his gaze and, with a sweep of his brush, left a critical remark on the memorial.
Outside the hall, a light drizzle fell quietly. Under the corridor, Lu Ping stood with his arms crossed, waiting. When he sighed for the second time, Shun Fu could no longer hold back.
“Master, what is troubling you?” It was rare to see Lu Ping so troubled.
Lu Ping glanced at him. “Have you checked on her?”
Shun Fu nodded. He had already sought a female physician to examine her. It was convulsions caused by fright.
Lu Ping gave a noncommittal hum and said no more.
“His Majesty…” Shunfu lowered his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. He usually spent more time with Song Shutang, who was not as strict as Caiyuan and the others. She was reliable in her duties and always spoke with a gentle smile.
“From now on, treat her as usual.”
Lu Ping was also puzzled. Could he have been mistaken? But today, the Emperor’s reaction truly showed nothing out of the ordinary.
Shunfu understood Lu Ping’s meaning—simply treat Song Shutang as an ordinary palace maid.
For people like them, everything depended on reading their master’s expressions. Shunfu acknowledged with a soft “Aye,” saying, “This servant understands.”
In the West Wing Chamber, a slight curve rose on the single bed. Song Shutang lay on her side, one hand tucked under her head as a pillow, the other resting softly on her abdomen, her slender legs bent and curled.
Her forehead and the tip of her nose were dotted with fine beads of sweat, her face flushed with an unnatural redness.
This was the scene that greeted Pei Hengyu when he arrived.
As dusk had just fallen, there was no need to light lamps to see clearly. At a glance, everything in the room was laid bare.
Like her, the room was tidy and simple, containing only the necessary tables and chairs, with no extra furnishings.
The air was filled with her usual fragrance, mingled with the scent of medicine.
On the small table by the wall, a medicine bowl sat neatly, and beside it was likely her sewing basket.
He walked over, his gaze sweeping indifferently. The basket held needles, thread, and fabric. His large, well-defined hand picked up a piece of black material with precision—it was the shape of a pouch, its pattern still being finished, but the design was already clearly visible.
After examining it for a few seconds, he expressionlessly tossed it back and strode to the bedside.
Even beneath the thick quilt, her slender frame was visible.
Song Shutang was in agony. Waves of heat surged through her body with no outlet, and her head felt heavy and muddled.
Unconsciously, she bit down on her lips, as if this could alleviate the discomfort in her body.
In her daze, she felt pressure on her shoulder, a touch that carried a hint of coolness. She opened her eyes, and through her blurred vision, she saw the Emperor’s stern, handsome face. “Your Majesty?”
The body beneath his palm, originally hot and soft, suddenly stiffened. Her lips, a hundred times more alluring than usual, bore the marks of her teeth. Seeing her movement, he frowned abruptly.
“Don’t move.”
Song Shutang had intended to rise and pay her respects, but at his words, she froze. His presence surrounded her, oppressive and suffocating.
She lowered her gaze, acutely aware of their current posture. The man’s arm was warm and strong, easily encircling her entire body with one hand, but…
Due to her fever, she wore only a thin undergarment, the fabric sheer.
“What are you getting up for?”
Pei Hengyu was clearly displeased.
Did she even realize her current state?
To her right, Song Shutang clutched the bedding beneath her, her heartbeat quickening. Perhaps it was the illness, but her mind remained foggy. The Emperor’s words, clearly accusatory, felt too harsh to bear.
And then there was the grievance she had suffered that day in the Imperial Study.
Too many emotions, unprocessed and overwhelming, surged within her. When she lifted her gaze, her eyes were misty with tears. She reached out and tugged at the fabric of his robe.
“Does Your Majesty only know how to bully others?”
In the dimming light of dusk, he could clearly see her eyes brimming with glistening tears, her cheeks pale yet tinged with pink, her voice carrying an unconscious, coquettish tone.
Pei Hengyu made no move and said nothing, his gaze fixed on the woman before him for so long that Song Shutang’s heart began to race. He reached out and brushed away the delicate hand resting on his chest.
His voice remained cold and devoid of emotion. “Take your medicine.”
Song Shutang swallowed softly, her voice hoarse yet undeniably alluring:
“This servant has no strength.”