Earlier, in the main hall of Changxin Palace.
“The Emperor has arrived—!”
The moment the eunuch’s announcement rang out, Attendant Song’s heart sank heavily within the hall.
How could it be such a coincidence that the Emperor had come!
Exchanging a glance with Consort Yi, they both saw surprise in each other’s eyes.
The two hurriedly rose and led the palace maids out to greet him at the palace gates.
In the wind and snow, Consort Yi witnessed the scene she least wanted to see:
In the center of the courtyard, Emperor Zhaoheng held Shuixian tightly in his arms. The Dragon-patterned Cloak, exclusive to the emperor, was wrapped around the woman, revealing only her delicate, pale face frozen devoid of color.
Consort Yi’s expression stiffened slightly, a cold glint flashing in her eyes.
Attendant Song was even more shaken. She watched helplessly as Emperor Zhaoheng carried Shuixian away without looking back, stepping out of Changxin Palace’s gates.
“Consort Yi…” Attendant Song’s voice trembled. “His Majesty… he actually took that lowly maid away in public…!”
Consort Yi slowly withdrew her gaze, replacing her expression with a gentle smile. Yet the smile didn’t reach her eyes, chillingly cold.
“Why panic?” Consort Yi’s voice remained calm. “Whomever the Emperor wishes to favor is the will of Heaven. There must be His Majesty’s reasoning behind it.”
She turned and walked slowly back into the hall, leaving Attendant Song to follow anxiously behind.
The crackling charcoal in the warming stove dispelled the chill around them but couldn’t disperse the panic in Attendant Song’s eyes.
“What a pity,” Consort Yi said as she took her seat in the main position, picking up a teacup with a tone of slight regret. “If not for that lowly maid Shuixian causing trouble and disturbing the imperial carriage… I had originally thought to take advantage of His Majesty’s visit tonight to properly introduce you, sister. With your noble family background and dignified character, if you gained His Majesty’s favor, being promoted to a concubine rank would be just around the corner.”
Consort Yi’s words were cleverly spoken, redirecting all of Attendant Song’s resentment toward Shuixian.
“What does she amount to!” Attendant Song slammed the table abruptly. “A lowly maid! Relying on her slight beauty to put on airs in the snow! She must have calculated that the Emperor would come and deliberately knelt there to seduce him! How shameless!”
She didn’t mention Consort Yi’s punishment, only believing that Shuixian had intentionally seduced him.
The more Attendant Song spoke, the angrier she became. “Look at her, Your Highness! Last time she served the Emperor, she was returned untouched—what a great humiliation! Yet she still dares to be so brazen, shamelessly clinging to him!”
Consort Yi listened quietly, the smile at her lips deepening slightly.
Perhaps Attendant Song would be even more useful than she had anticipated.
“Sister, calm your anger. Why bother quarreling with a servant?” Consort Yi sipped her tea leisurely before continuing unhurriedly: “But… you saw His Majesty’s demeanor earlier. That cloak is an Imperial Item. I’ve been in this palace for some years now and have never seen His Majesty care for any woman like that.”
She gently stroked the teacup. “Shuixian will likely serve His Majesty soon. Once she receives his favor, according to protocol, she should at least be granted the rank of Da Ying.”
“Da Ying?” Attendant Song’s face showed contempt. “Is she worthy? A lowborn servant isn’t even fit to polish His Majesty’s shoes! If she truly gains a rank, won’t she climb over us and act arrogantly? Your Highness, how can you tolerate such insolence?”
Consort Yi set down her teacup, emitting a very soft sigh.
“Whether I tolerate it or not, what difference does it make?”
Her voice was ethereal, carrying a subtle hint of provocation. “She was brought into the palace by me and shares years of camaraderie with me. What could I possibly do to her?”
Attendant Song listened in silence.
She thought to herself, Consort Yi is too kind-hearted to take action.
As someone born into a noble and upright family, a breath of fresh air in the harem, she could not allow that wretched maid to act so insolently!
Attendant Song’s eyes gradually turned cold, her heart surging with hatred and disgust toward Shuixian!
Inside the Qianqing Palace.
The heating stove burned fiercely, the charcoal glowing red. The imperial physicians and palace maids hurried back and forth, their expressions tense.
Shuixian lay on the bright yellow bed, her face pale, eyes tightly shut, sunk into a deep coma.
In her dream, she seemed to have returned to that snowy night in her past life.
She was running through dark alleyways, icy snowflakes cutting her face like knives. Her bare feet trod on the frozen bluestone pavement, each step feeling as if she were stepping on piercing shards of ice.
Behind her, the thugs drew closer and closer.
Shuixian ran desperately, the darkness swallowing her like a tide, as if there were no end in sight…
……
“Save me…”
A warm hand suddenly grasped her cold, trembling shoulder.
Emperor Zhaoheng sat at the edge of the dragon bed, his handsome brows tightly furrowed.
Shuixian’s slender fingers were clutching his sleeve tightly, her knuckles white from the force, as if it were the only lifeline for a drowning person.
Her pale face was devoid of color, her thick eyelashes fluttering restlessly. A barely noticeable wetness seeped from the corners of her tightly closed eyes, and weak murmurs continuously escaped her lips.
“Save me… I beg you…”
Her voice, filled with bone-deep fear, struck Emperor Zhaoheng’s heart again and again.
He had never seen her so fragile and helpless before, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pity for her.
Emperor Zhaoheng slowly tightened his large hand, completely enveloping her cold, slender fingers in his warm palm.
“Don’t be afraid,” the man’s deep voice resonated in the inner chamber, carrying a tenderness even he himself hadn’t noticed. “I am here. No one can harm you.”
The chief eunuch Feng Shunxiang approached the bed silently, holding a bowl of warm, cold-dispelling medicine freshly brewed by the imperial physician.
He bowed and presented the warm medicine bowl with both hands.
Emperor Zhaoheng finally shifted his gaze from Shuixian’s face to the medicine bowl, giving a slight nod.
Feng Shunxiang, ever perceptive, immediately placed the bowl gently on the small table beside the emperor’s hand. Then, holding his breath, he led all the palace servants out silently, softly closing the palace doors behind him.
The heavy doors shut out all outside noise, leaving only the sound of burning charcoal in the Warm Pavilion and the unconscious, pained murmurs from the person on the bed.
Emperor Zhaoheng released Shuixian’s hand and picked up the medicine bowl.
He personally scooped a spoonful of the dark brown liquid and carefully brought it to Shuixian’s lips.
However, her tightly closed lips showed no sign of opening, and the medicine trickled down the corner of her pale mouth.
He tried several more times, all in vain.
Watching her body shiver slightly from the cold, a look of determination flashed in Emperor Zhaoheng’s eyes.
He set down the medicine bowl, leaned in close, and steadied Shuixian’s neck with one hand, tilting her head back slightly. With his other hand, he gently pried open her small jaw.
He took a sip of the warm medicine, bent down, and using his own lips as a conduit, slowly transferred the bitter liquid into her mouth.
Their lips met, and the bitter medicinal liquid slowly flowed in. Shuixian, in her unconscious state, seemed to sense the warmth, letting out a faint, muffled sob in her throat as she instinctively began to swallow.
The bowl of medicine was thus fed to her, sip by sip, in the most intimate manner by Emperor Zhaoheng.
The bitter and unique scent of the medicine lingered between their breaths, weaving an indescribable intimacy.
After finishing the medicine, he straightened up and carefully wiped the traces from the corners of her lips with a silk handkerchief.
Yet, the woman’s body still trembled faintly beneath the brocade quilt. The chill that seemed to seep from the very marrow of her bones had not dissipated immediately with the effects of the medicine.
Emperor Zhaoheng’s gaze fell upon her still-pale face, and a memory flashed through his mind—of soldiers frozen stiff in the bitter cold of the northern borderlands.
He hesitated no longer.
The man’s slender fingers reached for the collar of her robes, and the snow-soaked garments were peeled away, layer by layer, by Emperor Zhaoheng himself.
Then, he undid his own robes, revealing a well-defined, honey-toned chest with smooth, muscular lines.
He lifted a corner of the brocade quilt and lay down beside her.
His long arm reached out, carefully drawing her cold, trembling form into his embrace.
As if finding her only source of warmth, Shuixian, in her unconscious state, instinctively let out a contented sigh, curling her entire body against him. Her chilled cheek unconsciously nuzzled against his scorching chest, seeking every bit of heat.
The man’s body tensed instantly!
His Adam’s apple bobbed uncontrollably, and his arm around her tightened slightly, as though he wished to transfer all his warmth to her.
Beneath the brocade quilt, their bodies pressed closely together, their temperatures mingling. His burning chest was flush against her cool form, his strong arm encircling her slender waist.
In this most primal way, Emperor Zhaoheng sought to drive away the chill deep within her bones.
The flickering candlelight cast the silhouette of their tightly entwined figures onto the gauze canopy, faint and hazy, their breaths merging as one.
Just then, Shuixian’s eyelashes fluttered lightly, and she slowly opened her eyes…