That winter arrived unusually early. By late winter month, heavy snow suddenly fell, and the north wind howled through the palace, covering everything in silver-white. The Empress Dowager was in high spirits and wanted to host a hotpot feast in her Shoucheng Hall, enjoying flowers and snow, inviting the young ladies who accompanied her. She instructed this because, with the New Year approaching, these girls, valued treasures of their families, were now brought far from their parents into the dullness of palace life. Surely they needed some entertainment to enjoy themselves. Seeing them happy also pleased her.
When the Empress Dowager issued instructions, the attendants hurried to carry them out. Naturally, the palace halls were not to be turned into a chaotic mess. In a side building in front of the Yuhua Pavilion behind Shoucheng Hall, with rooms open front and back and exposed to the wind, they first cleaned thoroughly, hung curtains to block wind and rain, and arranged small tea tables and stools for each girl. The Empress Dowager wanted to join, but worried about the cold and her own discomfort, she had the young ladies entertain themselves.
Noble Consort Xu had to care for the eldest prince, so hosting the guests naturally fell to the Empress. No choice, the guests were delicate young ladies, and as the host, it was proper for the Empress to make them feel welcome. Still, the young ladies immediately formed factions, much like before.
This time, the Empress Dowager had balanced it: besides the southern families, a few Donghu girls were present. Naturally, two factions formed, each occupying its own space and ignoring the other. Among them, Miss Fan, a general’s daughter, subtly led several other daughters of military families, as she had dominated in the previous visit. Trust mingled with caution.
Huang Xian, praised by the Empress Dowager as a talented woman, drew the scholarly girls who loved to converse with her, while some noble daughters, disdainful of the scholars, refused to engage. In this tiny side hall, five or six factions emerged. Meng Guqing marveled. Her task was to keep peace so that no one was slighted. Dealing with them for a day was more exhausting than managing palace affairs. Most importantly, the key figure of this little stage, Zhao Donglin, had yet to appear. Claiming snow disasters in southern regions requiring his attention, he had not come even once, leaving the Empress Dowager’s plans for her son in tatters.
But she had a solution. It was already in place: the Empress Dowager’s health was fragile, and the Emperor always came twice daily to pay respects. That evening, seeing her son arrive hurriedly, pay respects, and then try to slip away, she was displeased. “Sit properly and have dinner with me. Even if urgent matters await outside, do you ignore your royal mother? Relief work is important, but once assigned, you can let others handle it. Must you personally supervise every task?”
Zhao Donglin had no choice but to sit. He wore a dark robe, his black hair high, his handsome face radiant, eyes bright and clear. With such a presence, he was outstanding, even surpassing his father. The late emperor had also been handsome, and she had admired him at first sight, yet he was surrounded by beauties. Unlike his father, the son had a clean, upright demeanor, shoulders strong, temperament pure and transparent.
They say women need care; men do too. Experiencing a deep affection naturally radiates happiness. The Empress Dowager, having lived through it, understood perfectly and was pleased that the person bringing her son such joy was one of their Donghu girls. She wished they could remain blissful, but rules and reality forbade an exclusive relationship.
Sighing, the Empress Dowager had attendants bring in the crown prince, seating her son beside her. The three generations shared a warm moment. Holding the crown prince’s small hand, she laughed: “Look at how adorable he is. The harem is too quiet; children make it lively. Your royal father had seven or eight by your age. You should hurry.”
Zhao Donglin cared for the eldest prince, his first child, but was not involved daily. The little prince’s routine was simple: eat, sleep, and little else. He only instructed Feng Tianbao to check on him and report back. Rarely did he hold the child himself. Now, holding the heavy boy on his lap, the subtle blood tie stirred a momentary affection. Seeing the pink face, the outline and ears reminiscent of another, the tenderness vanished instantly. Returning the child to the wet nurse, he smiled: “Son is still young. If Royal Mother wishes to hold grandchildren; the Empress and I will try our best. If there are too many children in the future, you might be troubled.”
The Empress Dowager smiled faintly. “A legitimate son is good, but your father was not the eldest legitimate son. You, among brothers, are likewise neither eldest nor fully legitimate. Your father took the throne through his vast support network, and you must too. Your brothers are the ones who support you most. I am old, do you think I want to worry about these things? In past years, due to wars and examinations, you postponed the selection process, and I did not speak. Will you postpone again next year? Look at your harem, what previous dynasty had one like yours?”
Zhao Donglin, a habitual student of history, immediately thought of several one-wife emperors. Their fates were not good; one died young with only one son, passing the throne to a collateral branch. He was confident he would produce an heir with the Empress, but saying so now would seem argumentative and might anger her, something he did not wish. So he stayed silent, thinking.
Seeing her son react, the Empress Dowager pressed on: “I am not asking you to do it immediately. Just have a few in the palace, it looks proper, and the Empress avoids gossip. Some girls I fancy, but I did not force you. Yet you sabotage my plans. Don’t forget, since your safe return, Jing Wang lingers outside, claiming unfinished affairs in southern Yan. Heaven knows his intentions. Now is when you need support most.”
Her reasoning could be ignored, except this point, a true worry for him. His only path was to resolve things peacefully, but if Jing Wang did not cooperate, his strength would be thin. These “allies” found by the Empress Dowager cost nothing and benefited him, yet Zhao Donglin felt no joy. Even before confirming his feelings with the Empress, he had not pursued such matters like the late emperor. Now he was content and found relying on connections distasteful.
He acted as needed. The Empress Dowager brought the girls to soothe her loneliness; he treated them as her favored guests, occasionally gifting them on her instructions. Yet such interactions carried subtle implications. Meng Guqing could say nothing, sensitive as she was, a misstep could cause awkwardness if she opposed the mother and son.
She could not appear too indifferent either. Since their intimate encounter, he had been relentless, leaving scattered kiss marks on her shoulders and chest, watching the flushed skin blossom like winter plum. Satisfied, like a swift leopard with prey confined, he slowly savored her. Fortunately, the Empress, not a traditional young lady, tolerated some of his boldness, sometimes even reciprocating. The closeness of body and soul was intoxicating, and he could not bear to leave her or allow her wandering thoughts. Seeing her silent for a while, he would playfully disrupt her.
Meng Guqing gasped sharply, pain pulling her attention back. Her tender arms wrapped around herself. “What are you doing? It hurts.”
“You never focus. Didn’t I allow you to visit me in Huangji Hall? You never went. Today, you finally go, and you bring irrelevant people. I don’t want to see them at all.” He sensed the Empress subtly leaning toward the Empress Dowager, how could this be?
“What am I supposed to do? I cannot ignore the Empress Dowager. I just want peace.” She had spent so long attending to the Empress Dowager, often trailing a string of attendants. Knowing the Empress Dowager sought to matchmake him with some girls, yet she had unwisely sought him alone; it seemed she opposed the Empress Dowager. Sigh. Her cautious nature was flawed; she knew it was because she cared for him and, knowing her departure was inevitable, she wanted to offer some compensation, not dampen his wholehearted devotion.
Indeed, caring is a weakness; to care is to be vulnerable.
The Emperor, equally, had to restrain his impatience to allow her to report dutifully to the Empress Dowager. They now shared a faint mutual understanding. Zhao Donglin closed his eyes, feeling playful enough, then suddenly turned atop her. In the darkness, his eyes gleamed, voice cheerful: “Empress, let’s have a child.”
“Why suddenly say that?” Meng Guqing felt guilty. A few days prior, the Emperor had accidentally seen her handling a medicine. He had picked it up and asked what it was. Her heart had tightened; she pretended not to care, saying it was for health. Zhao Donglin had smelled it, it was a faintly sweet honey scent and, seeing her dozing on the pillow without noticing him, had put it down.
This wasn’t the first time he had spoken of wanting a child. In truth, every time he saw the eldest prince, he thought about having a child with the Empress, a child combining their two bloodlines. Perhaps then the Empress would willingly stay by his side forever. Yet he remained sensitive enough to feel that she wasn’t fully invested, not nearly as deeply as he was. Sometimes he resented her ease and composure, but he seemed to understand why: she still didn’t fully trust him, or rather, their circumstances made her hesitate.
Noble Consort Xu and the eldest prince aside, looking at the present, the Empress Dowager had brought a large group of unmarried young ladies into the palace. This wasn’t just to show the court that she supported the Emperor; it was also a reminder to the Empress of her duty as the mother of the nation. And indeed, the Empress was clever and cautious, not daring to cling to him. Why must their affection be entangled with so many people and matters?
Zhao Donglin lay half on the Empress, one hand holding her wrist, whispering: “I want to have a child with you, Empress. I’ll teach him to read, write, how to be a filial son and a proper ruler so he won’t suffer like me and struggle to hold his place. For the sake of better days in the future, enduring hardship now feels worth it. Seeing him will also give me more drive.”
Was he doubting whether the current hardships were worthwhile, seeking solace in a child? Meng Guqing could not agree, only vaguely saying, “It will happen. A child will come when it’s meant to.” She remembered that he had many children, yet none were born of the ‘deposed Empress.’ Did this mean that even if she avoided the medicine, they still wouldn’t have a child? She didn’t dare gamble. After all, historically, their relationship had been poor, the original mistress had little chance to see the Emperor upon entering the palace. No face-to-face contact, no child.
She only remembered how the original mistress had done much to win the Emperor’s favor, only to have it backfire. Her Donghu noble status and being chosen by the regent as a bride were already enough to arouse his aversion. She had relied on this natural dislike to avoid unnecessary actions. Even now, though the Emperor liked her, he seemed deliberately to avoid certain taboos. She felt she couldn’t fully rely on him, how could she consent to his impulsive desire to have a child? That would only feed her family’s arrogance.
Meng Guqing sometimes felt a sense of crisis. The Empress Dowager had invited many young ladies into the palace. If they were officially granted a title, the Emperor’s support would increase significantly. Then a scandal from the previous dynasty resurfaced: several southern officials colluded in selling offices and accepting bribes, caught by Councilor Li Wei, who brought it directly before the Empress Dowager, demanding strict punishment. The scandal implicated several important southern ministers, who had met to commemorate the former dynasty, even producing poems!
This was a serious matter, but the outcome was frustrating. Officially, “selling offices and taking bribes” had long been a customary practice in the court, mainly with minor positions bought by wealthy gentry to bolster prestige, often overlooked by higher authorities. But under the previous Shenzong era, corruption had reached even top officials, contributing to the dynasty’s collapse. The regent had explicitly forbidden it, but with the treasury depleted due to disaster relief, the Ministry of Revenue quietly revived the practice, some funds pocketed by officials then exploited politically.
As for the ministers meeting to commemorate the previous dynasty, comically, they only admired a famous courtesan. Long deceased, she was notorious, and these idle officials made a fuss about her fleeting romance with a former top scholar, who died heroically in service to the state. A trivial matter, yet Li Wei, a haughty Donghu noble, blew it up, presenting it as serious, bypassing the Emperor to report to the Empress Dowager.
The Empress Dowager understood she could not favor her clan blindly; she sought balance, using the incident to instruct her son. “See? Overindulge the Empress, and problems arise. She dominates the harem; her family stirs trouble. How should you handle this? Punish them strictly, and it seems unfair. Ignore it, and the southern ministers’ morale suffers. Either way, you face a dilemma.”
Many guessed Jing Wang was behind Li Wei’s actions. Li Wei lacked the clout to act independently; Jing Wang’s motives were to assert authority over the Emperor. The Emperor was still inexperienced, building a southern ministerial faction, and Jing Wang wanted to test him. Zhao Donglin realized it was a Donghu faction pushback. Knowing the reasons, he still felt powerless. Worse, Jing Wang, thousands of miles away, could manipulate affairs in the capital, an unsettling display of Donghu unity.
Zhao Donglin didn’t wish to punish the southern ministers, their faults were minor. He had painstakingly built his own faction; why destroy it? Yet Li Wei led the charge, with convincing arguments, causing a headache. The matter dragged on days until the Empress Dowager decreed that anyone at fault would be punished proportionately, without favoritism, clearly and fairly. She added pointedly: “Elsewhere, the upper hand exists. The harem mirrors the former dynasty; until the harem balances, the dynasty cannot be at peace. Do you understand? Even if you defeat Prince Tatuo ten times, unresolved fundamental issues prevent peace.”
Zhao Donglin understood but differently than the Empress Dowager intended. He only wanted a good outcome for the Donghu ministers, yet they resisted, forcing him to uproot them completely to secure his position.
Meng Guqing sensed Zhao Donglin’s frustration but could do little. Her Donghu identity meant she was inevitably aligned. Fortunately, Zhao Donglin understood her helplessness, never demanding anything of her, just impatiently wanting a child. She couldn’t understand: wouldn’t having a child now only empower her family’s arrogance? He was clever; he should be more cautious about pregnancy.
Unbeknownst to her, Zhao Donglin had resolved to “reform the system.” He aimed to create an absolute authority under his control. Jing Wang, Li Wei, and the Donghu ministers would become the past. In this storm, the one person he wanted to protect and keep was the Empress. To secure her, he needed an unshakeable foundation, a child. Privately and publicly, he intended for her to give him one soon.
Meng Guqing didn’t understand his strategy, only felt his obsession with creating a child. Unless she was indisposed, he stayed in Huangji Hall or with her. When her period came, he appeared disappointed, leaving her anxious and guilty.
After the court physician dismissed her, Meng Guqing relaxed slightly, fearing the doctor would detect her secret remedies. Quietly, she poured a cup of water and offered it to a frustrated Zhao Donglin. He took it but didn’t drink, placing it aside, then drew her into his arms, touching her lower abdomen. “It makes no sense… I’ve tried so hard.” He had even gathered folk remedies to increase conception chances, lingering in her after intimacy, refusing her to wash immediately. Why?
Meng Guqing didn’t want to disappoint him but could not succeed. Eventually, she had to divert his attention: “Actually, in Donghu, people say it’s difficult for couples like us to have children. And if we do, the child may have defects.”
“What do you mean? Too many?” he asked, puzzled.
She flushed, hastily clarifying: “No. We’re cousins, too close. Xu Qiang mentioned her cousin married his cousin and their child, now five, barely developed properly. Rumors spread; the reason was simple, the relationship was too close.” Xu Qiang’s cousin was Noble Consort Xu’s brother, Xu Dan. Due to physical limitations, he couldn’t marry highly or lowly, so he married a niece, and the child had issues. Madam Yang complained to Noble Consort Xu each palace visit, and Zhao Donglin, feeling guilty, kept sending the best medicine and doctors, without effect.
Knowing the Xu case and having seen the child, Zhao Donglin hesitated: “No way?”
Seeing him falter, Meng Guqing pressed on with modern examples from Donghu. Fear finally flickered in Zhao Donglin’s eyes. Pressing her to him, lips tight, he seemed deeply shaken, recovering only after a long moment: “It’s alright. Even without a child, I can protect you.”
Meng Guqing didn’t understand, but afterwards he restrained himself, which pleased her. On the twentieth of the twelfth month, the Empress Dowager, resigned, sent the young ladies out of the palace. The Emperor refused to compromise, and the girls, at a delicate age, couldn’t stay endlessly. In the first month, news came that Miss Shi and Miss Fan’s families arranged marriages. Of the three girls favored by the Empress Dowager, two were now lost. Only Miss Huang remained, a lone blossom. By the next year, she would be eighteen. No longer able to wait, the Empress Dowager issued an ultimatum: either bring Miss Huang into the palace or proceed with the summer selection.
Zhao Donglin didn’t dare to oppose the Empress Dowager at her sickbed. Many officials in court were also submitting memorials urging him to hold the imperial selection of concubines. After considering it, he simply agreed. After all, he could control how many selections to make and when; a few months’ time gave him enough leeway to find some excuse if needed.
