The Emperor truly couldn’t figure out what went on in the mind of the child he had raised.
How could he have thought of carrying a basket to pluck away all of Wen Zhaorong’s flowers?
The Emperor pushed open the window, gazing at the bleak scene outside where the autumn wind rustled. He furrowed his brows and remained silent for a long time.
Wen Zhaorong said, “Moreover, the osmanthus wine I’ve stored in my cellar often goes missing, one or two jars at a time, as if we’ve attracted a rat that specializes in stealing wine.”
The Emperor said, “Perhaps he just wants to get closer to you. After all, he was the one who brought you into the palace in the first place.”
A faint smile finally appeared on Wen Zhaorong’s face. She said, “Only someone like Your Majesty could utter such righteous nonsense without hesitation.”
The Emperor indulgently said, “What compensation do you want? I’ll grant it to you.”
Including last night, this was already the third consecutive night the Emperor had stayed at Mifei Palace.
The palace attendants sweeping the courtyard moved in and out busily. Wen Zhaorong waved her hand, summoning a maidservant to assist the Emperor with changing clothes.
The Emperor said, “There aren’t many people in the harem who truly understand me. How about promoting your rank?”
The maids from Mifei Palace stepped forward to drape an outer robe over the Emperor.
Wen Zhaorong stood at a distance, neither too close nor too far, and did not personally assist. She said, “If Your Majesty is willing to grant it, I’ll accept it. If not, I won’t feel it’s a loss.”
The Emperor wasn’t angered at all and continued with his good-natured demeanor, agreeing with her, “No matter how high the rank, it’s just a title. What’s there to feel gain or loss about? Consider it a trinket for you to play with.”
Formal consorts were being spoken of as if they were worthless and common trinkets. Yet the two of them didn’t avoid speaking so openly in front of others. Fortunately, there weren’t many women in the palace; otherwise, this would have caused an uproar if it spread.
The Emperor had always been kind to his harem, and Consort Xian was not the type to be ruthless either.
When the masters are lenient, the servants become unruly.
Those improper words had barely left the mouths of Wen Zhaorong and the Emperor when, within a meal’s time, they had already spread like wildfire to the ears of informants in every palace.
Consort Xian visited Jingmen Palace today to pay respects to the Dowager Consort Hui. While having tea together in the morning, she heard the servants report this fresh news, and immediately found the tea tasteless.
The Dowager Consort Hui, squinting with a fatigued expression, said with a faint smile to the attendants in the room, “Just listen to that. Our Emperor, though not young anymore, still behaves no differently from a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old boy when he’s being capricious.”
Consort Xian frowned. “I truly don’t understand what kind of beauty Wen Zhaorong possesses to make His Majesty let go of years of lingering regrets.”
She still couldn’t fully believe it and felt as if she were trapped in a surreal dream.
The Dowager Consort Hui said, “I don’t know what kind of beauty she has, but her temperament is remarkably similar to that of the woman from the Zheng family back then.”
Like Zheng Yungou.
With that, the Emperor’s favoritism wasn’t so hard to understand.
The Dowager Consort Hui said to Consort Xian, “If you’re curious, why not invite her for a meeting?”
The Dowager Consort Hui’s suggestion coincided with Gao Yuexing’s opinion.
Consort Xian asked, “Is this your intention as well?”
The Dowager Consort Hui raised her eyes sharply. “Oh? Who else has this idea?”
Consort Xian smiled and honestly replied, “The young lady from the Gao family also suggested that I shouldn’t dwell on it too much.”
The Dowager Consort Hui listened silently for a long time before sighing, “That child from the Gao family will undoubtedly become an indispensable ally by the side of Prince Xiang in the future.”
Consort Xian asked, “An ally?”
This single word made Consort Xian feel restless. She was, after all, a timid person by nature.
Prince Xiang was a prince, the Emperor’s most beloved son. Under what circumstances would such an ally be needed?
The Dowager Consort Hui glanced at her, a hint of frustration in her gaze, as if lamenting her incompetence, but she chose to say nothing more.
Consort Xian wisely took her leave, walking slowly down the long street outside Jingmen Palace. From a distance, she spotted the Emperor’s entourage departing from the direction of Mifei Palace.
Watching the scene, Consort Xian silently made up her mind.
—
Gao Yuexing, for the sake of a piece of osmanthus cake, followed Li Fuxiang back to Qianqing Palace.
On the way, Li Fuxiang asked, “Why did you go to the Wen Yuan Library? Did you have some purpose in mind?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head. “I had no purpose at all. I just suddenly thought of it and came to take a look… How’s your injury?”
Li Fuxiang replied, “It’s healed.”
His straightforward answer made Gao Yuexing skeptical. Her fingers lightly wrapped around his wrist, her fingertips pressing gently on his pulse. Their sleeves overlapped, concealing their actions from prying eyes. From a distance, they appeared like a pair of childhood sweethearts holding hands in a romantic moment.
Gao Yuexing felt the throbbing of his pulse beneath her fingertips, resonating with the rhythm of her own heartbeat.
A sudden dizziness clouded her mind. Gao Yuexing withdrew her hand, rubbing her fingertips, the lingering warmth curling into her chest like a smoldering ember.
Sensing her hand retreating, Li Fuxiang turned to look at Gao Yuexing. Before she could fully withdraw, he reached out and firmly clasped her hand.
His palm wasn’t particularly warm, but it was strong.
Startled, Gao Yuexing instinctively tried to pull her hand away, but Li Fuxiang held on tightly, even tugging her back with a hint of dissatisfaction.
Gao Yuexing blinked without looking directly at him, a faint, almost imperceptible blush creeping up behind her pale ears.
She compromised.
Gao Yuexing understood deep down that she and her young prince had reached a point where they were testing each other. In this matter, every retreat she made would only encourage him to advance further, pressing closer with each step.
But what could she do?
Her body and heart were both screaming that she couldn’t refuse him.
As expected, the next moment, Li Fuxiang clasped her small hand, pried open her palm with his fingers, and intertwined their fingers firmly.
Gao Yuexing stopped hesitating. Half-pushing, half-yielding, she indulged him, eventually sighing deeply and squeezing his hand back.
—
The osmanthus flowers were brought back, and Yagu accepted them, sighing, “There’s too much. We don’t need this many.”
She sifted through the fully bloomed flowers, setting them aside and keeping the half-open buds. These buds carried the richest fragrance, perfect for kneading into pastries. Steamed over gentle heat, their aroma lingered long after.
The Emperor returned to Qianqing Palace at just the right time. The sweet and sticky osmanthus cakes had just come out of the steamer, their sugary scent filling the warm room.
Drawn by the aroma, the Emperor followed it to the source, leaning against the doorway with a smile as he watched Li Fuxiang pop a piece of cake into his mouth.
Gao Yuexing noticed first and stood up properly to greet him with a bow.
Li Fuxiang followed her lead closely.
The osmanthus cake in Gao Yuexing’s mouth was not yet fully swallowed, but she paused, letting the pastry slowly dissolve in her mouth and quietly swallowed it without making a sound.
The Emperor said, “Watching you two children eat is truly delightful.” He casually picked up a piece of osmanthus cake, tasted it slowly, and then remarked, “As the saying goes, ‘When drinking water, remember the one who dug the well.’ Since you borrowed someone’s osmanthus flowers, shouldn’t you return the favor with a token of gratitude?”
Li Fuxiang responded, “Of course, we’ll send a gift.”
Yagu had already prepared a delicate redwood food box, which was then sent to Wen Zhaorong’s Mifei Palace. Coincidentally, just as the gift was dispatched, a messenger from Chunhe Palace arrived.
—Consort Xian was hosting a banquet.
In the palace, everything the women did needed a dignified pretext.
Consort Xian, maintaining propriety, claimed she had obtained a painting by a renowned artist from the previous dynasty and invited her sisters to admire it.
The messenger sought the Emperor’s opinion, and the Emperor said Consort Xian could decide for herself, which was essentially tacit approval.
Gao Yuexing seemed lost in thought.
Li Fuxiang asked, “Did I receive an invitation?”
The eunuch hesitated and explained, “Consort Xian has only invited the consorts of the various palaces for tea, perhaps fearing the young prince might feel out of place.”
The Emperor responded indifferently, “What’s there to fear? We’re all family. If you want to go, let Consort Xian save a seat for you.”
The eunuch knelt and accepted the decree.
Palace family banquets did not include officials, so Li Fuxiang felt less constrained.
At the banquet, Li Fuxiang was seated immediately next to the Emperor, while the next most prominent seat was occupied by Wen Zhaorong.
The Emperor’s harem had only a few women. Typically, each managed their palace affairs independently and rarely interacted. Since the Emperor didn’t focus on them, they lacked the motivation to compete.
Today, however, was unusual. Because of Wen Zhaorong, nearly all the women in the harem had gathered.
For the first time in both her past and present lives, Gao Yuexing recognized everyone.
To be fair, the Emperor’s harem was far less extravagant than those of previous dynasties. Apart from the well-maintained Consort Xian, most of the other women were no longer young. The Emperor’s neglect had transformed them into serene and emotionless figures, like ancient wells undisturbed by ripples.
By contrast, Wen Zhaorong, young and beautiful, became the most striking presence in the crowd.
Gao Yuexing’s gaze remained fixed on her.
Wen Zhaorong’s features, upon closer inspection, carried a subtle blandness, like the silent and slow-moving water beneath winter ice—clean and pure. No amount of bold makeup could taint her natural essence. On the contrary, it only highlighted her jade-like radiance.
Consort Xian’s face was pale, and it seemed increasingly difficult for her to maintain her composure.
Gao Yuexing glanced at the princess.
The worry in Princess Li Lanyao’s eyes was evident.
Gao Yuexing asked her, “What’s wrong?”
Li Lanyao opened her mouth as if to speak but hesitated.
Gao Yuexing quietly continued to look at her.
Li Lanyao let out a defeated sigh and said, “My mother said that Wen Zhaorong bears a six or seven-part resemblance to the late Imperial Noble Consort Zheng.”
What kind of woman was Zheng Yungou, that even more than a decade after her death, she remained deeply entrenched in the Emperor’s heart, leaving Consort Xian perpetually tormented like a thorn in her chest?
Consort Xian had lost her composure the moment she saw that face.
At first, she hadn’t noticed much resemblance, but after someone murmured something behind her, Consort Xian grew vigilant. Upon taking a closer look, the more she observed, the more alike they seemed.
The past of Imperial Noble Consort Zheng was a story that few truly knew anymore.
As Consort Xian sat in her seat of honor in Chunhe Palace, watching the cheerful and smiling faces of the women before her, her mind drifted back to events of more than a decade ago.
At that time, the newly ascended Emperor had secretly left the palace, throwing the court into chaos. Without any attendants, he disappeared into the mortal world like a fish into the sea. The Jinyiwei and the Imperial Guard were left helpless, unable to search for him openly for fear of unsettling public sentiment.
The Emperor was missing for a full three months.
Consort Xian had stayed in the palace during those three months, her heart heavy with worry day and night. She knew her humble origins and didn’t dare to dream of riches and honor, but the Emperor appreciated her temperament. After every time she attended to him, he would casually tell her not to be afraid.
Thus, after his ascension, the Emperor truly gave her unique favor. She became his first consort.
Having attained a position she once didn’t dare to imagine, Consort Xian’s thoughts inevitably wandered. Since the Emperor had given her one, naturally, he could give her two. Could she not allow herself a touch of ambition?
During that time, the young Consort Xian couldn’t help but feel elated.
Unfortunately, before she could fully savor her rise, the Emperor’s secret departure from the palace gave her her first taste of fear. Then, three months later, when the Emperor returned to the palace, covered in dust and riding on horseback, carrying a bloodied woman in his arms as he charged into Qianqing Palace, it was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her burning heart, forcing her to calm down.
That sobering moment was so chillingly profound that, cautious as she was, she had engraved it into her very bones, ensuring she would never forget it for the rest of her life.