Before dawn had even begun to lighten the sky, a crisp clanging of copper bells rang out from outside.
Shang Fuqu, who had been sleeping in a daze, jolted awake with a start. She remembered that she was now living in the imperial palace, no longer the young lady of the house back home. She hurriedly threw off the covers and got up, preparing to attend to the Emperor before morning court.
The bedchamber was still pitch dark—so dark one couldn’t see a hand in front of one’s face.
She lit a lamp, silently grumbling about what kind of life the Emperor led, rising even earlier than the roosters!
“Your Majesty.”
The side couch, normally reserved for the night-duty palace attendants, had no curtains and lay fully in view. The young Emperor lay facing the wall, his long, ink-satin hair spread loose, half pressed beneath his shoulder, sleeping soundly with the covers wrapped around him.
Shang Fuqu called out tentatively, ”Your Majesty, it’s time to get up.”
He must have heard her.
The slender hand gripping the edge of the covers tightened slightly, but he didn’t move.
Shang Fuqu: …
So he was the type to dawdle in bed.
The copper bells outside rang a second time. She took a deep breath and simply took matters into her own hands.
“Your Majesty, today is the first morning you’ve kept me in your bed. If you’re late to morning court, I’m afraid it will stir up controversy.” And the first target of that controversy would be her—the one who led the sovereign astray—unable to escape the label of a bewitching consort.
So this was a matter concerning the both of them.
He had probably never encountered anyone this bold. She only gave him a light push, and his brow furrowed faintly as he burrowed further inward like an annoyed cat.
His long, thick lashes fluttered, and at last he opened his eyes.
What met his gaze was the face of a girl with whom he had spent a night yet still barely knew. She was wearing the same dress from yesterday, having washed up and tidied herself simply. On her glossy black coiled hair, the beaded butterfly hairpin fluttered its wings as the beauty bowed her head.
“Shall I help you dress, Your Majesty?”
After a whole night, she had picked up a few things about this young sovereign.
He did not like to be touched by women.
She had been refused once before, so this time Shang Fuqu only asked, without stepping forward on her own.
Sure enough.
Lu Huai glanced at her and said in a calm voice, “You were up late last night. Rest instead. Have Qi Zhong come in.”
An hour or more of reciting texts, a dozen or so sneaky yawns—he might as well have written “I hate studying” across his face.
Eunuch Qi, waiting in the outer hall, entered at the sound.
He had been wondering why His Majesty wasn’t in one of his usual morning moods today. Then he heard those words, stumbled, and was so delighted he nearly fell flat on his face.
The bead curtain was lifted, and a row of palace attendants bearing washing implements filed in.
It was Shang Fuqu’s first time witnessing such a spectacle.
Unable to help with hands or words, she could only stand quietly to the side, tugging at her handkerchief with her head lowered.
Before long, the great Buddha was finally seen off.
She still walked with a slight limp as she left.
Eunuch Qi drew another silent breath, and the way he looked at her changed completely.
“Your servant respectfully sees His Majesty off.”
Releasing a sigh of relief, Shang Fuqu felt as if she had come back to life.
“Miss.” Xiaodie stepped forward to support her. “Shall we take down your hair and catch up on some sleep?”
After all, back home, their young mistress always slept until she woke naturally.
She had her own set of health-preserving rituals.
The morning light was faint, and the sky was still veiled in a layer of milky mist. Shang Fuqu raised a hand to touch her hair, then shook her head. “We’ll make up for it with an afternoon nap. Now pick out a new outfit for me and do my hair—we’re going to Shou’an Palace.”
“Lady-in-waiting, is it necessary to go so early?” Xing’er was carrying a bowl of sweet soup with lotus seeds and silver ear fungus. “At this hour, I’m afraid Her Majesty the Empress Dowager hasn’t even risen yet.”
There weren’t many things that could occupy Shang Fuqu’s mind, but food was one of them.
She had only asked about that soup casually after dinner yesterday—after all, she was merely a Lady-in-waiting of the lowest rank, with no need to rush to curry favor. But times had changed. After last night, the whole Hanlanxuan had risen in status along with her.
Gazing at the blurred beauty in the bronze mirror, Shang Fuqu said, “Then we’ll just wait outside the hall.”
She didn’t understand the ways of surviving in the deep palace.
Her mother hadn’t either.
Before this, such things had seemed too far away from them. So all her mother had been able to teach her was to keep a low profile and protect herself.
But judging from what she’d gleaned from books, a consort on her first night of attending the Emperor was often targeted. This showed itself specifically in the matter of paying respects to the Empress Dowager—the other consorts would all tacitly arrive early, just to make that one person’s ‘lateness’ stand out.
At such a time, even if you weren’t late, you would be.
Shang Fuqu disliked trouble, and the best way to avoid it was to snuff it out at the source.
So they liked arriving early, did they?
Who could possibly be earlier than an Emperor who rose before the roosters!
Xiaodie had already opened the trunk brought from home into the palace, asking, “My lady, which outfit would you like to wear today?”
Shang Fuqu pondered a moment. “Bring something new—something plain, elegant, and dignified. Just nothing too eye-catching.”
She had never met the Empress Dowager and didn’t know her tastes.
But being proper and by-the-book would at least guarantee an impression with no glaring faults.
Xing’er was clever with her hands and styled her a suitable, matching coiffure. Then, taking a pair of scissors, she cut a dew-laden hibiscus, fresh and vivid, from the courtyard and pinned it at her temple.
Crimson lips, jade face—strikingly beautiful, otherworldly.
“All done, my lady.”
Gently pushing the mirror closer, Xing’er marveled inwardly at how beautiful this noble lady truly was. If only she were a bit more ambitious, put in a little more effort…
Hanlanxuan was secluded.
Reaching Shou’an Palace, where the Empress Dowager resided, required a long detour. In the seventh and eighth months, dawn came early, and the air, tinged with thin moisture, was pleasantly cool. By the time Shang Fuqu arrived, the morning sun had just risen.
The two palace attendants guarding the doors were startled by her. “Sh-Shang Fuqu?”
Shang Fuqu genuinely admired the palace staff’s ability to remember and recognize faces.
“If Her Majesty the Empress Dowager has risen, please announce me.”
“Y-yes, of course…”
The two exchanged a glance, each seeing the look of someone who’d seen a ghost in the other’s eyes.
The Emperor held morning court.
She was visiting Shou’an Palace.
After waiting a while beneath the corridor, Shang Fuqu’s gaze was drawn to the hanging orchid plants. Her mother had loved tending flowers too, and had grown them even better.
As she was lost in thought, a voice suddenly called out from behind her.
“Lady Shang! Lady Shang!”
Shang Fuqu jumped and hurriedly turned to look. Perched atop a tall little swing frame stood a pitch-black bird, flapping its wings and calling out to her in a strained voice.
“Lady Shang!”
The two maids’ hearts leapt in fright as well. Xiaodie steadied her. “My lady, it’s a crow.”
“You’re the crow—your whole family are crows!”
The bird retorted. Xing’er recognized it. “It’s the little pet myna raised by Her Majesty the Empress Dowager.”
Shang Fuqu: “Then how does it know me?”
Could it be that even the birds in the palace had become spirits?
“It must have heard the door attendants address you just now.” Xing’er cautiously lowered her voice. “My lady, let’s stand farther away. This bird is Her Majesty’s darling—if we so much as brush against it, ten mouths couldn’t explain ourselves.”
A life in the palace wasn’t worth much.
Worth less than a favored bird.
Shang Fuqu was about to heed the advice and leave when the myna suddenly raised its strained voice again.
“Ah me, now that all the beauties have entered the palace to pay their respects, they’ll have to rise early every single day—this old servant grows more vexed the more I think of it!”
That distinctly avian tone, slightly shrill and stiff, sounded all the more mocking in the morning breeze.
Shang Fuqu didn’t even dare look back.
She just kept urging the two palace maids on.
“Go, let’s hurry!”
The Empress Dowager’s darling favorite had a mouth that leaked secrets.