Inside the Warm Pavilion, the rich fragrance of jasmine incense wafted through the air.
Emperor Zhaoheng noticed the strange expression on Shuixian’s face. He gently lifted her wrist and saw the hidden pinch marks on the inner side of her sleeve.
The marks were deep, some having already turned bluish-purple, clearly showing the force used by the perpetrator.
“Who bullied you?” His voice was low, but he unconsciously lightened his grip on her wrist.
Shuixian instinctively averted her gaze, revealing an indescribable look of grievance.
“Speak!” The Emperor’s tone brooked no argument.
Shuixian raised her eyes, which seemed to be brimming with tears, quickly glanced at him, and whispered weakly:
“It… it was Shan Cha…”
A flash of anger surged in Emperor Zhaoheng’s heart. How dare that clumsy servant girl harm Shuixian? Who gave her the audacity!
He even forgot that his collar was still open. Emperor Zhaoheng abruptly released Shuixian’s hand, strode forcefully, and swept aside the curtain separating the Warm Pavilion from the outer hall!
“Shan Cha! Do you confess your crime!”
The Emperor’s wrath instantly descended upon Shan Cha in the hall.
Shan Cha trembled violently, thinking the Emperor was going to punish her for spilling soup on his clothes earlier. She hurriedly kowtowed, forehead hitting the floor: “Your Majesty, spare me! I confess my crime! I truly didn’t mean it! I deserve death! I beg for Your Majesty’s mercy!”
“Mercy?” Emperor Zhaoheng’s tall figure stood at the entrance of the Warm Pavilion, his collar slightly open, revealing his sturdy chest. “I’m asking you—how dare you abuse a fellow palace maid! Who gave you the nerve?!”
Abuse a palace maid?!
Shan Cha abruptly raised her head, her eyes filled with confusion.
The next moment, she saw Shuixian following behind Emperor Zhaoheng. Her gaze instantly focused on Shuixian’s arm—the one the Emperor was gently holding, with her sleeve partially rolled up to reveal the bruised wrist!
It was her! That vile woman had tattled on her!
“Your Majesty, please see the truth!” Shan Cha’s voice suddenly turned shrill as she pointed at Shuixian. “It’s her! It’s that vile Shuixian framing me! I didn’t do it! She pinched herself! She wants to harm me! Your Majesty! You can’t believe her!”
“Framing you?” Emperor Zhaoheng laughed in extreme anger. “Are you saying she went so far as to inflict such injuries on herself just to frame you?!”
He suddenly fully exposed Shuixian’s injured wrist to everyone! The bluish-purple bruises, illuminated by the candlelight, made onlookers shudder!
Consort Yi stood to the side, her face shifting uncertainly.
From Emperor Zhaoheng angrily sweeping aside the curtain to his current intense concern over the injuries on Shuixian’s wrist… this was definitely not the attitude one would have toward an ordinary palace maid!
Consort Yi grew wary of Shuixian… Since when had Emperor Zhaoheng become so attentive to Shuixian?
Looking at Shan Cha, who was recklessly shouting on the floor, Consort Yi’s eyes turned completely cold.
This fool not only caused a disaster but also harbored inappropriate ambitions, trying to climb above her station!
Such an imprudent servant was nothing but trouble! It would be best to let the Emperor eliminate her, saving her the trouble of dirtying her own hands!
Shan Cha was still screaming hoarsely in protest. She couldn’t understand why her mistress, who had always tacitly allowed her to bully Shuixian, was now watching coldly without saying a word?
“Consort Yi!” Emperor Zhaoheng’s icy gaze turned to Consort Yi. “Has this Shan Cha always been so domineering in Changxin Palace, bullying the servants?”
Consort Yi’s heart tightened, sensing the Emperor’s probing tone.
Consort Yi immediately composed herself, her face showing disappointment toward Shan Cha. “Your Majesty, this Shan Cha… does have a rather impatient temperament. To be honest, this isn’t the first time she’s quarreled with Shuixian.”
She paused, her gaze sweeping over Shuixian’s pitifully beautiful face before shifting to Shan Cha’s distorted features, a cold calculation flashing deep in her eyes.
She curtseyed and spoke clearly: “Even before I entered the palace from the Yi residence, Shan Cha, relying on her status as a common-born, frequently subjected Shuixian—who was born into household servitude—to harsh words and constant petty actions. I, considering her a senior servant in the household, repeatedly admonished her. Never did I expect that after entering the palace, she would still fail to restrain herself…”
Consort Yi deliberately emphasized the words “born into household servitude,” a faint cold smile flickering at the corner of her lips.
What she aimed to block was Shuixian’s path to imperial favor!
Emperor Zhaoheng’s expression tightened, his mind instantly conjuring the absurd scene from his father’s later years—how the emperor had been utterly bewitched by that consort of maid origin, nearly shaking the foundation of the state!
During those years, to eliminate that vile woman and the forces behind her, he had brushed with death multiple times before finally reclaiming power and preventing the empire from falling into the hands of the bastard she bore!
Emperor Zhaoheng’s heart sank violently!
What had come over him recently? How could he be so affected by a lowly maid? Could it be… could it be that he was treading the same path as his father?! Bewitched by this base appearance?!
This thought was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head, instantly extinguishing the inexplicable stirrings in his heart lately, leaving only defensive coldness!
His gaze toward Shuixian instantly became immensely complex.
That breathtaking beauty, that delicate fragility—in his eyes now, they seemed tinged with a bewitching, demonic hue.
“So that’s how it is.” Emperor Zhaoheng’s voice regained the coldness and detachment of an emperor. “As a palace maid, she neglects her virtue, bullies fellow servants, and worse, displays impropriety before the emperor, disturbing the imperial carriage. With multiple offenses combined, her crimes are unforgivable!”
His eyes shifted to Consort Yi beside him: “Consort Yi, since she is from Changxin Palace, I leave her punishment to you. Make sure it serves as a warning to all!”
“As Your Majesty commands!” Consort Yi sneered inwardly, but her face remained solemn.
She had been waiting for these very words!
Consort Yi turned to the terrified Shan Cha on the floor, her voice as cold as deep winter ice: “Lowly servant Shan Cha, for offending her superior, her crimes are heinous! Drag her out… and beat her to death!”
“No!” Shan Cha cried out desperately: “Miss! Your Highness, spare me! Your Majesty! This servant is wronged! It was Shuixian! Shuixian framed me!!”
She struggled wildly, tears and mucus streaming down her face, her state bordering on madness.
Yet, Consort Yi’s command was as iron law.
Two powerfully built eunuchs stepped forward expressionlessly, hoisting the limp Shan Cha like a dead dog, and ruthlessly dragged her out of the main hall.
The hall doors closed, cutting off Shan Cha’s despairing wails.
Soon, dull, terrifying thuds echoed from outside! The sound of heavy boards striking flesh! One after another, accompanied by Shan Cha’s agonized screams—from piercing to faint, until they finally ceased entirely!
Inside the hall, a deathly silence fell, so quiet one could hear a pin drop.
The sound of the beating seemed to strike at everyone’s heart.
Shuixian kept her head bowed, her body trembling slightly as if from fear.
Yet only she knew that what surged in her heart at this moment was the exhilaration of vengeance fulfilled!
Shan Cha, in your past life, you conspired with the tiger, willingly becoming Yi Guichun’s pawn. Did you ever imagine that one day, this very tiger would tear you apart without hesitation?
In Yi Guichun’s eyes, servants like us are never human—just ants to be discarded at any moment!
Consort Yi listened to the screams outside without a ripple in her heart, even feeling a hint of relief at having eliminated a hidden threat.
She glanced at Shuixian, who still stood with bowed head beside Emperor Zhaoheng, her eyes carrying a cold warning: See? This is the fate of those who refuse to stay in their place!
“Your Majesty, your robes are soiled. Shall Shuixian assist you in changing?”
Consort Yi replaced her expression with a gentle smile, reminding him at just the right moment.
She was certain that after the earlier reminder of slave status, any flicker of interest the Emperor had in Shuixian would have been thoroughly extinguished.
Emperor Zhaoheng neither looked at Consort Yi nor Shuixian. He merely gave an impassive nod, turned, and strode back into the Warm Pavilion.
Shuixian took a deep breath, suppressing the whirlwind of thoughts in her heart, and followed him inside with lowered eyes and a submissive demeanor.
Inside the Warm Pavilion, the scent of jasmine still lingered. But the atmosphere was entirely different from before.
Emperor Zhaoheng spread his arms, allowing Shuixian to fasten the clasps of his robe.
His gaze fell upon her luminous face, then slowly traced the delicate curve of her soft fingertips.
He couldn’t deny it—he was still drawn to this beauty. But the thorn named slave status in his heart reminded him relentlessly.
Suppressing the restless heat stirring within him, he stiffened slightly, deliberately maintaining distance from her. His eyes regained the detachment and scrutiny befitting an emperor.
Shuixian keenly sensed the shift in his attitude.
Outwardly obedient, she knew inwardly that Emperor Zhaoheng had grown wary of her because of Consort Yi’s earlier words.
Shuixian had heard tales of the late Noble Consort as well.
She wasn’t troubled by the Emperor’s temporary aloofness. Some emotions, some desires, cannot be restrained by reason alone.
The more Emperor Zhaoheng tried to suppress them, the deeper her roots would grow within his heart!
Consort Yi thought herself clever, unaware of the complexity and unpredictability of human nature—even an emperor on the highest throne was not exempt.
As she carefully adjusted his collar, her fingertips brushed seemingly accidentally against a small, exquisite sapphire-blue dragon-patterned sachet hanging at his waist.
The tiny sachet came loose from its silk cord and fell onto the thickly carpeted floor.
Shuixian appeared startled, hurriedly crouching to retrieve it. “This lowly one deserves death! This lowly one was careless…”
Her slender fingers picked up the sachet, now slightly dusted, and she held it reverently in both hands, offering it to Emperor Zhaoheng with an apologetic look. “Your Majesty, please forgive this offense…”
Emperor Zhaoheng’s eyes fell upon the sachet in her hands, then swept over her frightened, delicate face.
“It’s soiled,” Emperor Zhaoheng’s voice was icy, restrained. Without another glance at the sachet, he turned and strode out. “No need to wear it again.”
Shuixian lowered her lashes, kneeling respectfully as she saw him off.
Moonlight streamed over the windowsill, spilling around her and illuminating her cautious profile. In that moment, she resembled a child who had erred, her helpless demeanor evoking an unwarranted pity.
Emperor Zhaoheng’s heart remained hard as iron; his gaze swept over her before he left the Warm Pavilion entirely.
Yet, as he reached the courtyard and glimpsed the perfect moonlight of the night, his hand unconsciously brushed over the spot where the sachet had once hung.
Just a sachet, he thought, unconcerned.
She couldn’t help but think of that sachet which once hung from his waist, now clutched tightly in her hand…
Emperor Zhaoheng forcibly suppressed the lingering tenderness in his heart with reason.
He did not look back, thinking to himself: What difference would it make even if I did cherish her?
With so many beauties in his harem, was he really lacking one mere maidservant?