Lights illuminated the courtyard. Consort Hui stood under the corridor with her sleeves folded, gazing at Wen Zhaorong in the courtyard. She instructed, “Mingchun, have someone confirm whether her pregnancy is real or fake.”
Mingchun responded promptly and clapped her hands.
The doors of the western hall opened, and several strong eunuchs brought out two individuals. It turned out they were imperial physicians on duty at the Imperial Medical Bureau that day, forcibly brought here by Consort Hui. Among them was the head of the bureau.
Since Imperial Physician Zhou had gone mad, Consort Hui had no one left to use in the Imperial Medical Bureau.
The head physician staggered forward and knelt halfway at Wen Zhaorong’s feet, pleading, “Please forgive me, Your Highness.”
Wen Zhaorong lowered her gaze to look at him, lifting a hand to pull back her sleeve and extending her wrist.
The head physician took her pulse.
After a long moment, he withdrew his hand, not sparing Wen Zhaorong another glance, and turned to Consort Hui. “Your Highness, it is confirmed that Consort Zhaorong is indeed pregnant, less than three months along. However, the fetus is slightly unstable.”
Consort Hui fixed her gaze on him, and after a moment, she exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief. “Good. The Emperor has left his bloodline in my hands himself. Don’t blame me for being ruthless. Take Wen Zhaorong inside and ensure she is well cared for so that the child can be born safely.”
The head physician remained kneeling in the middle of the courtyard.
Consort Hui, lowering her esteemed status, cast a glance at him and said coldly, “If anything happens to the child in Wen Zhaorong’s womb, you will follow it in death.”
The head physician silently kowtowed.
Consort Hui returned to the room, where Wen Zhaorong had already been seated in the place of honor.
Mingchun brought in a bowl of yogurt. When she lifted the porcelain lid, the rich fragrance of milk filled the air. She placed it in front of Wen Zhaorong, who seemed to lack any appetite.
Consort Hui assumed she was concerned that the yogurt might be tampered with and reassured her, “Don’t worry. The child in your womb is your protection. I want this child to be born safely even more than you do.”
Wen Zhaorong’s expression remained cold as she replied, “I don’t understand. At your age, without a bloodline of your own, why are you fighting so hard? What are you striving for?”
Consort Hui no longer bothered to maintain her usual facade of kindness and virtue.
Draped in a wide red robe with flowing sleeves, she rested one hand on the armrest of her chair. Hearing this, she let out a cold laugh. “You ask me what I’m striving for. Yes, I’m already halfway to the grave, without a son or daughter to inherit my legacy. What’s the use of all this immense power? Should I take it with me to the coffin?”
Wen Zhaorong said, “Exactly, why?”
Consort Hui fixed her gaze on her and let out a sigh filled with sorrow. “Because I’m doing it for myself.”
Wen Zhaorong replied, “But the late Empress Dowager treated you well. The late Emperor had dozens of concubines, yet after his passing, most either died or were cast aside, meeting tragic ends. Without the Empress Dowager, where would your wealth and glory have come from?”
Consort Hui replied through gritted teeth, “That was her duty. Because she owed me.”
Wen Zhaorong asked, “What did she owe you?”
Consort Hui’s voice rose sharply, “She owed me my life!”
Perhaps due to Consort Hui’s sudden emotional outburst, Wen Zhaorong stopped pressing her.
At this point, Consort Hui seemed unable to hold back anymore. Even without further prompting, she continued speaking on her own:
“Back in the day, the late Empress Dowager, then merely an unremarkable Zhaoyi1The term “昭 (Zhao)” means “illustrious” or “bright,” and “仪 (Yi)” means “demeanor” or “appearance.” Together, “Zhaoyi” can be translated as “Illustrious Consort” or “Consort of Distinguished Bearing.”, was envied and attacked because of her favor. Open schemes, hidden plots—she couldn’t guard against them all. It was I who tested the poison for her! I suffered a miscarriage and lost my own child!”
“The late Empress Dowager, she promised me that when she gave birth to a child, regardless of whether it was a boy or a girl, she would entrust the child to me to raise, acknowledging me as the child’s mother. But after giving birth to the current Emperor, her womb was damaged, and she could no longer conceive. So, she regretted it and went back on her word. According to our original agreement, the current Emperor should have been my child, and the Empress Dowager he serves should have been me. But look around—this vast Jingmen Palace. She had the Emperor place me here. Do you know what this place used to be? It was the cold palace of the late Emperor, a burial ground where countless unjust souls hanged themselves from the beams.”
“Tell me, how could I swallow this humiliation?”
“If it were you, could you?”
These words, buried in Consort Hui’s heart for who knows how long, had gradually fermented into hatred.
Hatred that burned with the desire to destroy heaven and earth, to overturn this dynasty.
Wen Zhaorong nodded in sudden realization. “I see. So, from the very beginning, your intentions were insidious.”
Her face was utterly indifferent.
No matter how tragic Consort Hui’s experiences seemed, Wen Zhaorong felt not the slightest pity. She had no excess compassion to give. As a covert blade of the Jinyiwei, she could not afford to sympathize with her enemies.
Consort Hui’s openly expressed hatred only solidified Wen Zhaorong’s determination to eliminate her.
A person like this could not be left alive. To restore peace to the imperial court and the harem, she must be eradicated, root and branch.
At Consort Hui’s age, her sudden emotional outburst left her short of breath, forcing her to pause and take deep breaths to recover.
Seizing the moment of quiet, Wen Zhaorong spoke, “You’ve sealed off the imperial city while the Emperor and his ministers are away, but what use is it? After the autumn hunt, the Emperor will return to the capital. Then what will you do?”
Consort Hui let out a cold laugh. “The Emperor will not return.”
Wen Zhaorong countered, “The Emperor commands thousands of troops. Even the permanent garrison at Xiaoshan Palace numbers twenty thousand. Do you still have soldiers under your command?”
Consort Hui cast her a sidelong glance. “Do you think coaxing me into revealing my plans will work? You won’t live to see the Emperor return, and you won’t leave the palace. Surely you’re not still thinking of sending a message out?”
Wen Zhaorong paused, lowering her eyes. “You’re overthinking.”
Consort Hui seemed suspicious but not entirely convinced. Having spent most of her life immersed in palace intrigue, she was cunning to the core.
Every reaction from Wen Zhaorong fell within her expectations.
It was human nature to seek escape when faced with desperation, and Wen Zhaorong was far smarter than most people.
Had she shown no curiosity or complied meekly, that would have been abnormal.
Believing she had control over everything and that Wen Zhaorong was firmly in her grasp, Consort Hui was not opposed to throwing her a bone to satisfy her curiosity.
Gently touching Wen Zhaorong’s young and delicate face, she whispered in her ear, “I do have soldiers, but I don’t just have soldiers. I have people. My people are by the Emperor’s side and can take his life at any time. Do you believe me?”
Wen Zhaorong was placed under strict supervision.
Her room was devoid of any sharp objects. Hairpins and embroidery needles had been thoroughly confiscated, and even her tea cups were replaced with bamboo ones.
—
Xiaoshan Hunting Grounds.
Li Fuxiang’s outer robe had nearly dried by the fire. He pulled it on and fetched the horse that the Imperial Guards had brought back. Casually, he lifted Gao Yuexing onto the horse and let her sit behind him.
Gao Yuexing wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, listening as he turned his head slightly and said, “I couldn’t rest easy leaving you behind, nor could I bear to entrust you to anyone else. So, from now on, wherever I am, you must be as well.”
Gao Yuexing replied, “Alright. From now on, wherever you are, I will be too—through life and death, never apart.”
The spirited horse carried the two of them, galloping steadily in the direction of the imperial palace.
At some point, the scabbard of the Shenwu sword in Li Fuxiang’s hand had been discarded.
Leaving the ginkgo forest, they entered a slightly more open area. Gao Yuexing huddled behind his shoulder to shield herself from the wind, feeling safe. The moonlight cascaded down silently. When she turned her head, she caught sight of the blade, sharp and clear, like a cold autumn river and a long rainbow.
In the capital, Li Fuxiang would always ride his little red horse gently, fearing to exhaust it, never urging it to gallop fast. Now, on someone else’s horse, he showed no such reservations. He gripped the horse’s flanks tightly with his legs, driving its speed to rival the wind itself.
Gao Yuexing’s heartbeat quickened, matching the rhythm of the galloping hooves, a chaotic cadence.
The sounds of combat carried through the wind.
A moment ago, they seemed far away, echoing along the mountain road ten miles behind.
The next moment, the clamor resounded in their ears.
Li Fuxiang swung his blade, and blood sprayed into the air.
Without hesitation, he descended from the mountain slope like an arrow loosed from its bowstring.
Gao Yuexing had no idea of the battle situation at the palace. She assumed Li Fuxiang was heading to the palace to aid the king, but instead, he charged through the layers of enemy formations, riding past the palace and toward the base of Xiaoshan Mountain, leaving the imperial palace far behind.
Gao Yuexing glanced back in confusion.
Li Fuxiang explained, “My Xiaoqi Camp is stationed twenty miles ahead.”
Gao Yuexing asked, “You anticipated this rebellion long ago?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “More or less.”
Gao Yuexing couldn’t fathom what he meant by “more or less.”
Either they did, or they didn’t. Was there a “halfway” in this?
She pressed, “Will we make it in time? Can Xiaoshan Palace hold out?”
Li Fuxiang responded calmly, “It will hold. The show has only reached its midpoint.”
Gao Yuexing couldn’t make sense of his words. Her thoughts were a muddled mess, so she closed her mouth, entrusting him with all her faith.
Twenty miles from Xiaoshan Palace, Li Fuxiang met with his Xiaoqi Camp.
The 3,000 cavalry he had brought back from the western border had been expanded to 10,000 after reorganization in the capital. Now, all his troops were here, fully prepared and waiting.
Li Fuxiang raised his hand.
Under the night sky, his cavalry mounted their horses and tightly followed his lead. Ji Wei and Zhan Ji, wearing battle helmets, exchanged a glance as they watched Li Fuxiang’s figure at the forefront.
Ji Wei remarked, “Our prince has a commendable habit of leading from the front.”
Zhan Ji added, “But his habit of bringing women onto the battlefield is problematic. He really should change that.”
Ji Wei laughed. “You sure like to meddle.”
Zhan Ji smirked. “I wouldn’t dare meddle. Just a casual suggestion.”
—
Gao Yuexing’s ears seemed to register nothing.
They had traveled for what felt like a long distance and a long time before she belatedly realized that the direction they were heading was not the shortest route to Xiaoshan Palace.
Li Fuxiang had taken a detour north, circling around to the rear of Xiaoshan Palace.
By the time they stopped, the first rays of dawn were peeking through the layered clouds on the horizon, gradually spreading across the sky like ink diffusing on paper, staining half the heavens.
In the daylight, Gao Yuexing’s vision was much clearer than during the night.
She looked ahead at the small mountain peak, studying it carefully for a long moment before turning to Li Fuxiang to confirm. “That mountain—isn’t that the one with your little hot spring?”
Li Fuxiang stopped keeping her in suspense and replied, “It is.” With Shenwu in hand, he pointed toward the northern side of the mountain and said, “If anyone wants to enter Xiaoshan from the north, that’s the only way. Don’t worry; we’ll wait a bit longer.”
—
At the same time, back at Xiaoshan Palace.
When the turmoil erupted last night, Xu Xiude had quickly disseminated the Emperor’s decree throughout the palace.
The Emperor instructed everyone not to panic, not to wander around recklessly in such a critical situation, and to remain in their quarters, waiting for the rebels to retreat.
The Emperor’s calmness was the best reassurance.
An entire night passed.
Although the rebels attacking Xiaoshan Palace had yet to retreat, they also showed no signs of breaking into the palace.
Many people began to relax.
A rumor quietly spread through the palace: it was said that last night, Prince Xiang had already broken through the encirclement and ridden back to the capital to gather troops. Within a day, the current crisis would be resolved.
—
Consort Xian, however, was still deeply worried. She couldn’t eat a single bite, her thoughts consumed by concern for her husband and daughter.
That morning, she persuaded Li Lanyao to eat a bit more and instructed Aunt Wei to prepare some lily porridge to calm the Emperor’s nerves. She intended to personally deliver it later.
The lights in the Emperor’s study had been on all night, and generals had been coming and going. Clearly, he hadn’t rested well.
Consort Xian, feeling no mood to dress up, made only minimal preparations before personally carrying the food box Aunt Wei had prepared and heading to the Emperor’s study.
Li Lanyao, having finished her meal, pushed aside her dishes and insisted on accompanying her mother.
Consort Xian urged her to rest in her quarters.
Li Lanyao refused to listen.
Left with no choice, Consort Xian relented.
The mother and daughter arrived at the Emperor’s study together, just as Zheng Qianye was coming out.
The fact that Xiaoshan Palace had held firm thus far, remaining as impenetrable as a fortress, was largely due to Zheng Qianye’s efforts.
Zheng Qianye saluted, but Consort Xian hurriedly stopped him, saying, “Commander Zheng, your hard work is deeply appreciated.”
She then asked, “How is His Majesty’s health?”
Zheng Qianye glanced toward the study and said, “His Majesty stayed up all night. He seems a bit tired now. He has dismissed his attendants and plans to take a short rest. Your Highness has arrived at the perfect time. His Majesty just mentioned that his stomach feels empty, making him even more agitated.”
Hearing this, Consort Xian felt that her timing couldn’t be more appropriate. Without delay, she carried the food box and eagerly hurried inside.
The Emperor’s study had been temporarily converted into a wartime command tent. With military secrets at stake, the door remained tightly shut. Xu Xiude stepped out, saw that it was Consort Xian and the princess, and opened the door to let them in, promptly shutting it securely behind them.
Today, the Emperor’s study was especially somber. Black gauze covered the windows, blocking out the light, leaving no trace of warmth.
Li Lanyao felt something was off. Growing wary, she tugged at her mother’s sleeve.
However, Consort Xian was entirely focused on presenting the lily porridge to the Emperor, hoping to elicit a smile, completely oblivious to her daughter’s subtle warning.
The desk in the study was empty. Instead, a painted screen had been set up to one side, and behind it, a small couch had been temporarily placed for the Emperor to rest.
From outside the screen, Xu Xiude bowed and announced, “Your Majesty, Consort Xian has brought you something to eat.”
There was movement behind the screen, and someone stepped out.
But it was not the Emperor.
It was Xi Heng, the Commander of the Jinyiwei, clad in the fearsome Flying Fish Robe that struck terror into all who saw it.
Consort Xian was momentarily stunned and asked in confusion, “Master Xi, where is His Majesty?”
Xi Heng did not answer.
The Jinyiwei answered to no one but the Emperor.
With a stern, expressionless face, he walked up to Consort Xian and asked, “Is this for His Majesty?”
Consort Xian replied, “Yes.”
Xi Heng said, “In extraordinary times, I ask for Your Highness’s understanding. I must inspect it first.”
Consort Xian frowned. “What do you mean, Master Xi? Surely you don’t think I would harm His Majesty?”
Though she sounded indignant, Consort Xian still cooperated, opening the food box.
Inside, a bowl of crystal-clear lily porridge lay quietly in the center, its delicate fragrance enticing.
Xi Heng drew a silver needle, thin as a zither string, from the collar of his robe.
He dipped the silver needle into the porridge. It showed no sign of discoloration.
Consort Xian said, “Is that enough?”
Xi Heng remained silent. He dipped a finger into the porridge, running it around the inside and outside of the bowl’s rim.
Consort Xian, now visibly irritated, said, “Master Xi, after this, how is His Majesty supposed to eat it?”
Xi Heng held his finger up to his eyes, then pressed the silver needle against it, slowly running it from the base to the tip.
As he moved the needle, the porridge that had touched it was wiped clean.
But some things couldn’t be erased.
The part of the silver needle that had been in contact with the porridge began to darken, turning a deep indigo shade.
The silver needle had turned black.
Clang—
Consort Xian’s hands trembled, and the food box fell to the ground. The porcelain bowl inside rolled out, spinning across the floor.
Xi Heng extended his hand, bringing the silver needle so close to Consort Xian’s eyes that she could almost feel it. He said coldly, “Consort Xian, care to explain?”