Jing Wang was executed; his adult sons were beheaded, the rest exiled, and the slaves enslaved. Madam He’s little daughter, born to her, was mysteriously returned to her the day before she was to leave the capital. Holding her long-lost daughter, Madam He couldn’t tell whether she felt grief or relief. She had hoped her daughter could stay with the Empress, even as a little maid in the Empress’s estate, as long as she lived safely and healthily, she would have asked for nothing more. But Jing Wang’s household was being sent to distant Cangzhou, and she might never return, meaning she would never see her daughter again.
The thought twisted her heart. Her daughter, so small, had been lying softly in her arms just days ago, calling her mother sweetly but now they were to part forever. A hidden hope rose in her heart: she wanted to take her daughter with her, even if the journey ahead was uncertain. As she struggled, her daughter was brought to her. In urgency, Madam He grabbed the messenger, a man she had never seen. Skilled, he easily penetrated the prison temple where the family was held, leaving hurriedly: “I can only help you this far. Take care of yourselves.”
He tapped the little princess’s arm meaningfully, then left. Madam He was utterly desperate. She wept, holding her daughter in a corner, pressing her face to her child’s, ostensibly kissing her beloved daughter, but secretly feeling the firm object under the clothing. It was a gold leaf! There also seemed to be two paper items, probably silver notes—undoubtedly prepared by the Empress.
Tears of gratitude streamed down her face. When her daughter had a fever, the guards treated the family like criminal slaves, refusing to call a doctor. Jing Wang’s estate had been sealed, leaving her penniless. So when someone offered to deliver her daughter to the Empress for care, after all, the Empress was the princess’s godmother, she, desperate, handed her daughter over without thinking of the scheme. Later, upon reflection, she regretted her recklessness. At that moment, who would care for Jing Wang’s household? Who would bring her daughter to the Empress out of kindness? Even if she were fortunate enough to see the Empress, the child was a liability, the Empress might not spare her life.
Madam He’s heart ached, but she could only wait. Days later, another person arrived, hinting that her daughter had been killed by the Empress and urging her to expose the Empress’s crimes if she wanted revenge. This time, Madam He stayed calm. She was not foolish; after orchestrating one encounter and then another, she could piece together the story: the child was indeed safe with the Empress. At first, the Empress kept her in Fengyi Palace, but when someone reported the Empress colluding with Jing Wang to seize the execution ground and assassinate the Emperor, she claimed the princess was hidden in the palace. Yet after searching Fengyi Palace, the little princess was not found.
Initially, Madam He was heartbroken. Perhaps the Empress felt threatened and “disposed” of the child. But another loophole existed: the Empress was no fool. Knowing the child arrived suspiciously, she would have handled it immediately, not waited. What intrigues occurred in between, she did not know. She chose to believe her child survived, safely cared for elsewhere, and waited anxiously. By the grace of heaven, her daughter finally returned.
Seeing her daughter’s rosy cheeks, she knew she was well cared for. Her simple, gray clothing was practical for the long journey ahead. Combined with the money hidden on the child, the person delivering her had taken every precaution for mother and daughter.
Tears streaming, Madam He waited until nightfall, when everyone slept, then quietly got up and kowtowed sincerely three times toward the Imperial City.
The person Madam He was kowtowing to was, at this moment, also sitting by the window, thinking about that pitiful mother and daughter. In truth, if the little princess hadn’t been publicly declared to be hidden inside Fengyi Palace, only for no one to find her afterward, leading to all kinds of rumors outside saying the Empress had destroyed the body, Meng Guqing had actually intended to find a way to send the little princess to Gaochang, letting her start this life over again.
The problem now was, for every day the little princess remained missing, she bore the accusation of having illicit relations with Prince Jing, and the servants of Fengyi Palace would remain imprisoned in the Ministry of Justice’s dungeon. Only if the little princess openly and legitimately returned to her birth mother’s side and reclaimed her identity as the daughter of a criminal official would the predicament of Fengyi Palace be resolved.
No matter what, Madam He must wish for her daughter to be rid of the identity of Jing Wang’s descendant. Even if she lived an ordinary life for the rest of her days, all her hopes were placed on this foster mother. In the end, Meng Guqing had failed them; all she could offer was silent apology.
Fengyi Palace’s current situation was truly awkward. All the servants had been taken away. After Zhao Donglin left that morning, Feng Tianbao had personally delivered a new group of people over, but they were quickly summoned away by the other consorts in the palace, who used the excuse of being short-handed.
The entire palace hall was empty, leaving only the three of them. Even speaking caused loud echoes. The two maidservants, who had narrowly escaped misfortune, wore worried expressions. Meng Guqing pinched one of their cheeks. “You’re already frowning like this now? The hard days are still ahead.”
This was merely the final darkness before seeing the light again; it would pass. Meng Guqing was not blindly optimistic. Jing Wang was already dead, and even his family had only been punished with exile. As for her, an empress who had nothing to do with him whatsoever, even if she served as another symbolic figure of the Donghu faction, how unlucky could she possibly be?
Yes— Jing Wang had a letter containing handwriting matching that of the empress. But even she knew that several court officials renowned for their literary skills were capable of imitating another’s script. How could the common folk not include such a genius as well? Using just one letter as evidence was far too forced. And as for the little princess, she had already returned intact to her birth mother’s side. Who would still dare accuse the empress of killing to silence someone?
These two matters were not enough to convict the empress, but when it came to catching wind and shadows, exaggerating the situation was all too easy.
Noble Consort Xu and Consort Xian had clearly formed an alliance. Several of the new consorts were also standing on their side, joining forces to push the empress out. As for the front court, the southern faction led by the Xu family was not targeting the empress personally. They were simply worried the Donghu faction would rise again. Since both the Empress Dowager and the Empress were Donghu people, how could they not be suspected of favoring their own? The Empress Dowager could not be touched, so the empress absolutely had to go, especially since she was still favored.
A person, even if he loves with all his heart, if everyone around him says she is bad, how long can that love last? It wasn’t that Meng Guqing had no confidence in Zhao Donglin. It was just as she had always believed: faced with country and beauty, which weighs more? Anyone making a sober judgment would have an answer.
Word had it that officials in the front court had already submitted memorials listing the dangers posed by Jing Wang and the Donghu faction he represented. The memorial even hurled insinuations toward the empress. Zhao Donglin had been shocked and threw it back. But the next day, even more censors stepped forward to denounce Jing Wang, implicating other Dongu nobles in court as well. A great conflict was brewing, ready to ignite at any moment.
All eyes were fixed on the emperor. Exhausted, he returned to the rear palace, where Noble Consort Xu brought the eldest prince to request an audience. Then came a pile of harem troubles, one after another. They said various things, but the underlying question remained: why did so many in the harem also harbor resentment toward the empress? The empress had never offended them.
Noble Consort Xu smiled knowingly, her voice carrying a faint chill. “The women of the harem, all their hearts and eyes are fixed on the emperor. But the emperor feels no pity for them. Even when he visits their palaces, he sleeps in his robes. The emperor used to be truly affectionate, so where has that affection gone now?”
Where had all those feelings gone? The Emperor’s heart, every bit of it, had been seized by the Empress, unwilling to give even a sliver to anyone else. In a place like the harem, where resentment was already easy to breed, how could such jealousy not grow?
Zhao Donglin lifted his eyes toward Noble Consort Xu. Once, her gentle smile had been warm as sunlight; now it, too, was tinged with bitterness and sorrow. If he could, he would rather things had never begun in the first place, he would have waited for the Empress quietly instead of ending up in this tangled mess. How had everything come to this point? Even he couldn’t tell.
Love weakens heroes. Noble Consort Xu gazed at the Emperor, now more dignified and powerful than ever, and yet, to her, he seemed less decisive than before. Still, everything was unfolding just as she had once envisioned.
The man she loved was the ruler of the world. His love, by right, should be divided evenly among those by his side. If the Empress had come to this point, it was her own doing, too stubborn, too unaware. Even she, who had grown up with him, never dreamed of monopolizing his affection. With a background like the Empress’s, what had she been thinking?
Now that both the court and the harem were filled with anger toward her, Noble Consort Xu felt she no longer needed to act. The current peace of the realm was hard-won; one Jing Wang had already fallen. The Emperor was a wise ruler who knew how to weigh gain and loss. One day, he would understand what needed to be done.
That summer was unusually rainy. Since the beginning of the seventh month, drizzles had come and gone without pause, sometimes breaking into wild nighttime storms, as if the sky had been punctured. Meng Guqing stood before the dark palace gates, gazing out into the endless curtain of rain. She had not missed any of the latest news; the court outside was like this stormy night, boiling from beneath, stifled and tense, every man restless and waiting for that single, decisive strike.
She was waiting, too. But that person, he still hesitated to act. What was he still wavering for? Reform had always been his dream. From Jing Wang to herself, behind them stood countless arrogant Donghu nobles. Once the bow was drawn, there could be no turning back. He should not hesitate for her sake. She would not think him wrong for abolishing her, whether for the greater good or for himself, it would be the best outcome.
The servants of Fengyi Palace had been released, but the calls for the Empress’s deposition grew louder. Everyone trembled in fear, afraid even to approach her, lest they incur her wrath. Meng Guqing didn’t blame them. She stayed quietly in her own quarters, peaceful, even but the constant, strained waiting gnawed at her. She reached out a hand beneath the eaves; raindrops splashed over her skirts, but she didn’t mind.
Until a voice, damp as the rain itself, spoke behind her: “Even if you stand here and let the rain drown you, you’ll still be deposed.”
Meng Guqing turned with a smile, taking out a handkerchief to dry her fingers. Not a single corner of Xiao Shuo’s robe was wet. In such heavy rain, how did he manage that?
“Doesn’t the Shizi think the sound of rain on bamboo, in such a quiet night, is rather soothing?” she said lightly.
“I’m fine, my shoes are waterproof. My skirt can be changed in a while. But you, how did you get here in this downpour? Did you bring an umbrella, or a rain cloak?” Her curiosity was genuine; she looked him up and down.
“…”
He only stared at her, that beautiful face shadowed, eyes flickering with some strange emotion. Did she have something on her face? Meng Guqing touched her cheek, nothing. She smiled again. “By the way, I never thanked you properly. I heard Taiping was safely returned to her mother. No one knows who did it, they say the man came and went swiftly. It must have been your people.”
It was fortunate he had come that day. She’d sensed something was wrong and asked him to take Taiping and the wet nurse away. Though he’d looked impatient, a sharp whistle later, two men leapt down from the wall and escorted them out. For all his curt words, he had never done her harm. Unknowingly, her feelings toward him had softened.
“You’ve already thanked me more than once,” he said, his tone still poor. He seemed to dislike the rain, drooping lashes half-veiling his eyes, his weary expression strangely in tune with the damp air around them.
Meng Guqing flushed slightly. “But every time I said it, I meant it.” She was a trapped woman in the deep palace; he, a noble who came and went as he pleased. Even if she wanted to help him, she had no means to. She almost hoped he would someday need her assistance then she could at least repay him somehow.
But Xiao Shuo only curved his lips and asked abruptly, “That night I sent them away, Zhao Donglin came to see you, didn’t he? Stayed in your palace?”
Meng Guqing thought back. That night, the Emperor had not only stayed… but also— Her cheeks grew hot at the memory, color blooming up her neck until even her pale skin flushed pink.
Seeing her flustered, Xiao Shuo’s urge to kill nearly surged forth. He restrained himself with difficulty, voice sour and low: “I run errands for you, and you keep another man here?”
He had to say it so bluntly? That night the Emperor stayed for a reason and besides, they were husband and wife, joined before Heaven and Earth. Was it wrong for them to share a bed? But… what did Xiao Shuo mean by that tone? Did he hate Zhao Donglin so much because he was held here as a hostage, denied the dignity of his title?
Her face burned hotter. Thinking it over, she realized he must indeed dislike the Emperor. Since she had asked for his help, she should be considerate of his feelings. She meant to say, “It won’t happen again,” but somehow that sounded odd, and she hesitated.
Then he said, coldly and suddenly: “Do you know…you smell of another man. It’s disgusting.”
Meng Guqing was completely speechless. She only had one man, her husband! And her smell? She hadn’t even noticed it herself. Was his nose really that sharp? Or was this just an exaggerated way to express dislike?
She silently took two steps back. If he hated it, she’d just stay farther away.
But to Xiao Shuo, that movement was like prey trying to flee. The next instant, instinct surged like blood in his veins, he lunged forward, trapping the prey he’d been eyeing for so long.
Meng Guqing barely had time to react before a strong arm pulled her into its hold. Then a stranger’s breath brushed her lips, and a pair of hot, biting lips descended, tearing at her mouth and tongue. Pain flashed through her, and when he finally drew back, his lips, already red, were smeared with her blood.
She stared at him, utterly stunned. The man who had bitten her looked perversely satisfied, his thumb wiping the blood from her lip as he smiled darkly. “That’s better. Much more pleasing to the eye.”
