Emperor Zhaoheng had been on the throne for three years.
He had never been an emperor given to excessive desires, visiting the rear palace only a handful of times each month.
Taking a palace maid to bed was even less something he would do.
However, exceptions exist to every rule.
Consort Yi had subtly mentioned that Shuixian, the maid she brought from her family home, possessed a natural Constitution of Fertility.
Now thirty-two years old and having reigned for three years, Emperor Zhaoheng still had no heir.
The words "Constitution of Fertility" had left a mark in his mind.
In the bedchamber of the Qianqing Palace, the serene Dragon Saliva Incense burned, its smoke curling upwards. The golden bricks on the floor shone like mirrors, reflecting the emperor's somber expression.
As he stepped inside, Emperor Zhaoheng still harbored doubts.
To bed a palace maid… it seemed utterly absurd.
But when he saw the petite figure curled up under the bright yellow quilt on the bed, his steps faltered slightly before he strode decisively to the bedside.
A delicate, unadorned face peeked cautiously from beneath the quilt, with jet-black hair cascading like a waterfall across the pillow, making her complexion appear as flawless and luminous as jade, breathtakingly beautiful.
Especially those eyes—clear as spring water, yet now filled with confusion, resembling a deer cornered by hunters, gazing at him with pure helplessness.
"This humble maid… Shuixian, pays respects to Your Majesty…"
The young maid instinctively tried to rise to perform the proper greeting, but in her movement, a corner of the quilt suddenly slipped, revealing a smooth, pale shoulder.
She visibly froze, then blushed all the way to the tips of her ears.
Flustered, Shuixian hurriedly pulled the slipped corner of the quilt back up, wrapping herself tightly as if wishing she could bury herself completely in the embroidered covers.
This display was utterly natural, evoking pity.
A rare flicker of interest passed through Emperor Zhaoheng's profound gaze.
This family-born maid serving Consort Yi was rather intriguing.
He stood by the bed looking down at her, his tall figure casting an invisible sense of oppression that nearly enveloped the woman curled up on the inner side of the bed.
Shuixian pretended to be shy, though in her heart she knew exactly what demeanor would stir a man's interest.
After those three years in the brothel, she was no longer the naive young maid.
She understood the male heart deeply, and knew even better how to wield beauty as her sharpest weapon.
She also knew that what is visible but unattainable sparks the greatest interest in men.
Making herself unattainable wasn't difficult.
The challenge was how to make him remember her even while she remained out of reach.
Shuixian slowly raised her eyes, timidly meeting his inspecting gaze.
Her amber-like eyes seemed soaked in water, with thick lashes fluttering nervously.
Emperor Zhaoheng sat down at the edge of the bed. Without speaking, he reached out with undeniable force and grasped a corner of the quilt.
In her previous life, Shuixian hadn't let him pull back the covers.
Before coming to serve him, she had been summoned by Consort Yi, who told her that while a loyal maid might substitute in serving the emperor, she should not look upon his heavenly countenance.
Thus, in her previous life when receiving his favor, she had persistently clutched the quilt, not even revealing her face, fearing to offend the emperor.
This time, not only did she not resist, but as the quilt corner was pulled away, she subtly shrank back.
The embroidered covers slipped below her collarbone, revealing more of her porcelain-fine skin.
She hastily wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to cover up, but this feigned resistance appeared even more alluring to the emperor than outright exposure.
"Afraid of me?"
Emperor Zhaoheng's thin lips curved slightly.
Shuixian shook her head vigorously, then nodded quickly: "Your Majesty… Your Majesty is the Son of the True Dragon, how could this servant dare not fear…"
"Only dare not fear?"
His slender fingers, bearing thin calluses, lightly brushed over her arms clutching tightly around herself, leaving faint tremors in their wake.
Panic instantly surged in Shuixian's eyes. As if recalling something utterly terrifying, she shrank backward abruptly, nearly pressing herself into the farthest corner of the bed. She clutched the quilt desperately before her as if it were her only shield.
"This servant forgot… Her Ladyship told me I must never lift the quilt on the night of serving the Emperor, lest I offend the imperial countenance… This servant deserves ten thousand deaths! Please punish me, Your Majesty!"
Her body trembled slightly, as if she had committed some monumental mistake.
"Her Ladyship?"
Emperor Zhaoheng's gaze darkened abruptly, his voice carrying a barely perceptible chill. "Consort Yi told you this?"
"This servant spoke carelessly, it wasn't Consort Yi who said…"
Shuixian seemed to want to remedy her words, but her fluster had already betrayed her.
A flicker of faint anger passed through Emperor Zhaoheng's eyes.
Consort Yi had begged him to summon Shuixian, yet dared to instruct his woman like this?
Making her fear serving the bedchamber, even viewing receiving imperial favor as shameful?
Consort Yi had overstepped her boundaries!
Looking at the beauty trembling uncontrollably before him—clearly unfit for bedchamber duties tonight—the flicker of desire that had been stirred in Emperor Zhaoheng vanished completely.
He rose abruptly.
His tall figure carried an invisible pressure that seemed to congeal the air in the chamber.
"Attendants!"
Emperor Zhaoheng's voice returned to its usual coldness.
The chief eunuch Feng Shunxiang, waiting outside the hall, immediately entered with a bow. "Your servant is here."
"Send her back."
Without even glancing at the figure curled into a ball on the bed, Emperor Zhaoheng spoke with detached indifference, as if he were once again the emotionless sovereign.
"Yes." Feng Shunxiang was utterly astonished but promptly complied.
This young woman… was being returned untouched? This was truly unprecedented!
Soon, two efficient palace maids entered, helped Shuixian dress simply, then wrapped her tightly in a thick cloak before silently withdrawing from the Emperor's bedchamber.
Emperor Zhaoheng stood with his hands behind his back in the center of the hall, listening to the faint sound of retreating footsteps until they disappeared.
After the young woman left the bedchamber, the room returned to silence, broken only by the soft crackling of candle flames.
He walked to the window and pushed open the carved wooden frame.
The chilly night wind, carrying the cold after snowfall, rushed against his face, attempting to disperse the inexplicable restlessness in his heart.
Yet those panic-stricken, deer-like eyes still appeared in his mind.
Irritated, he shut the window.
That night, as Emperor Zhaoheng lay on the empty dragon bed, closing his eyes brought visions of that delicate, timid face.
In his dreams, he seemed to see those eyes again, filled with unspoken words.
This time, there was no damned quilt separating them.
She was no longer that trembling little maid but had transformed into a gracefully swaying narcissus flower, blooming among his bedcovers, fragrant and lush…
Throughout the night, the Emperor's dreams burned with passion and tenderness, carrying an unprecedented thrill…
Changxin Palace, Side Hall.
Shuixian was quietly brought back. Cloaked and head bowed, her steps unsteady as she was supported into the inner chamber by two palace maids, she remained utterly silent throughout, as if having suffered immense fright and devastation.
Consort Yi, already informed of the situation, had been waiting in the main hall with Shan Cha. Seeing Shuixian’s disheartened, returned state, Consort Yi was inwardly overjoyed!
Yet her face swiftly assumed a mask of concern as she hurried forward, grasping Shuixian’s icy hand.
“Shuixian! You… what happened to you?”
Consort Yi’s voice dripped with feigned distress. “His Majesty… he didn’t punish you, did he? Quickly, tell me what exactly occurred?”
She scrutinized Shuixian from head to toe, searching for any sign of having been favored by the emperor, but found nothing.
Shuixian lifted her pale little face, her eyes vacant, as if still reeling from the profound shock.
Gazing at Consort Yi’s hypocritical face, boundless hatred surged in her heart. It was this very face that had personally thrust her into hell in her past life!
In this life, she would personally send Consort Yi to hell, making her wish for neither life nor death!
“Miss…”
Shuixian lowered her gaze, concealing the hatred in her heart. “This maid is useless… I angered His Majesty…”
As she spoke, her eyes reddened again, tears welling up as if ready to fall at any moment. “His Majesty ordered me… to be sent back.”
“Ah! How could this be?”
Consort Yi pretended to be greatly shocked, lightly patting Shuixian’s hand. “How could His Majesty… Ah! It must be that you were inadequate in some way and offended him! Didn’t I teach you the rules long ago?”
Rules? The rules that made me provoke the emperor’s anger, leading to Emperor Zhaoheng hastily ending things after just one favor in my past life?
Shuixian sneered inwardly, but her expression grew even more fearful as she bowed her head. “This maid… this maid remembers Miss’s teachings, not daring… not daring to overstep in the slightest.”
“Alright, alright, it’s good that you’re back, it’s good that you’re back.”
Consort Yi suppressed the smile at her lips, feigning gentleness. “Surely His Majesty was merely momentarily angered; it will pass in a few days. You should go back and rest properly, calm your nerves. Shan Cha, quickly help Shuixian back to her room to rest!”
Shan Cha immediately stepped forward, reaching out to support Shuixian’s arm. “Sister Shuixian, let’s go. Don’t trouble Miss any further here.”
Shuixian compliantly allowed Shan Cha to support her back to the narrow, chilly side chamber of Changxin Palace.
Once inside, Shan Cha immediately released her arm, her fake smile vanishing in an instant, replaced by biting sarcasm:
“Oh great beauty, was the dragon bed too high to climb? Thrown back in disdain by His Majesty?”
Shan Cha crossed her arms, eyeing Shuixian sideways.
“I said it all along—a lowborn slave from a servant family, how could you ever aspire to imperial favor? Did you really think that with a seductive face you could soar to the heavens in one step? Serves you right!”
Shuixian, with her back to Shan Cha, slowly untied her cloak.
Listening to the acrid, harsh words behind her, the image of Shan Cha from her past life surfaced before her eyes—that Shan Cha who, wielding a dagger, had madly slashed her face, eyes filled with glee!
The bone-deep agony before her death in that past life was something she would never forget.
Shuixian’s fingers tightened slightly on the cloak ties, her knuckles turning white.
She forcibly suppressed the surging murderous intent in her heart and slowly turned around.
Her face still wore the look of someone utterly devastated.
She lowered her eyes, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “Sister Shan Cha’s reprimand is justified.”
This submissive demeanor made Shan Cha feel as if she had punched cotton, only growing more frustrated.
She wanted to hurl more sarcastic remarks, but Shuixian had already walked to the shabby bed on her own.
Shuixian removed her outer garment, lay facing inward, and pulled the quilt over her head, presenting an image of self-abandonment.
"Hmph! Useless creature!"
Finding herself ignored and disgusted by this lifeless display, Shan Cha spat in contempt, then stormed out, slamming the door in vexation.
Little did she know, in the darkness, Shuixian slowly opened her eyes.
Useless?
Those pupils, in the profound ink-like blackness, held no trace of drowsiness, nor the deliberately performed cowardice from earlier.
Instead, they were like deep, unfathomable icy pools—piercingly cold and brimming with undisguised killing intent!
The bed, she would attend to!
The vengeance, she would exact!
She dared to wager that within three days, Emperor Zhaoheng would come seeking her voluntarily.
When that time came, it would be Shan Cha's burial hour!
In her mind, a clear, icy outline of a plan had already taken shape…