“Out! All of you, get out of my presence!” A jade-and-rouge makeup box crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces.
A young man and woman, their faces pale with fright, hurriedly fled the hall, still half-dressed, stumbling and crawling as they withdrew.
“…Why aren’t you leaving?” Consort Wei glared at Ruan Hongjiao. Her hair was slightly disheveled, the buttons at her waist undone. In her fury, the heat in her eyes seemed ready to burst forth at any moment.
Ruan Hongjiao knew that with but a motion of her fan, Consort Wei could make her vanish silently, like a wisp of a ghost into some dried well deep in the palace. To say she was not afraid would be false. Yet she had weathered storms before—even facing the severity of the Northern Surveillance Bureau’s chief officer without retreat. By comparison, Consort Wei’s wrath now seemed far less fearsome.
She gracefully stepped forward and gently adjusted the thin outer robe draped over Consort Wei’s shoulders, pulling it up to cover the strap across her waist. Her tone was soft yet respectful as she said, “Those two reckless disciples had no sense. Driving them out for punishment is enough. Niang Niang must not harm your health over this. We women are delicate and can’t endure too much anger—too much will not only damage the body, but also dull the complexion.”
Consort Wei immediately touched her own face, then turned to the mirror. Seeing her furious, scowling expression indeed marred her appearance, she quickly used her fingertips to gently smooth the skin around her eyes.
Ruan Hongjiao helped her sit down and picked up the gold comb from the table, softly combing through her silky black hair. In the mirror, their two beautiful faces appeared side by side, as lovely as twin lotuses.
“Niang Niang is truly unparalleled in beauty,” Ruan Hongjiao said. “I’ve seen countless beauties, but it’s only upon meeting you that I realized how narrow my vision had been.”
The gentle coaxing eased much of Consort Wei’s anger.
Ruan Hongjiao was a renowned courtesan in the capital, known for her mastery in music, chess, poetry, painting, singing, dancing, and especially in the art of pleasing others. Many noble sons were utterly besotted with her. When Madam Qin heard of her fame, she brought her to the Marquis’ residence, hoping to teach her daughter—who had fallen out of favor—how to enchant a man completely.
At first, Consort Wei was resistant, thinking it laughable to have a courtesan instruct a noblewoman. But Madam Qin persuaded her: “The matters between men and women know no rank. Why else would even Emperor Huizong of Song frequent brothels? Were there not enough beauties in his palace? Yet it was Li Shishi who captivated him. My good daughter, just treat this as learning another skill. No man is immune to pleasure. Once you serve the Emperor’s body well, his heart will follow.”
Persuaded, Consort Wei met this famed courtesan and found that she was indeed beautiful, skillful, and pleasant to be around. After a few lessons, Consort Wei almost treated her as a companion to ease her lonely days in the deep palace, frequently summoning her to sing or amuse her, even taking her along when visiting temples.
Earlier today, when two of Ruan Hongjiao’s disciples misspoke during a demonstration, their careless words touched a sore spot, provoking Consort Wei’s fury and causing her to vent her anger on Ruan Hongjiao.
Yet Ruan Hongjiao seemed entirely unaffected, still speaking in that affectionate, admiring tone: “Even I, a fellow woman, cannot help but be moved by Niang Niang. How much more so for a man?”
Consort Wei couldn’t help but complain: “It’s easy to say. I’ve had several lessons now, but they don’t seem to help. The Emperor still doesn’t favor me… all those seductive arts are learned in vain!”
Ruan Hongjiao replied, “Niang Niang must first draw the Emperor near. Affection begins with meeting—only when the mood is set can the rest follow.”
“Of course I know that! Lately, the Emperor has indeed visited Yongning Palace more often than before, but I can tell he’s still coming mainly to see Zhao’er. Occasionally, he stays overnight, but it’s always in the side halls. Outsiders who don’t know the truth think I’ve regained favor and start currying favor with me again. But the bitterness inside—only I know it.”
“If the mountain won’t come to me, then I’ll go to the mountain, Niang Niang. Since you’re already within the same residence, sneaking into his bed at night isn’t so hard.”
“I’ve tried! It’s useless.” Consort Wei sighed. “The Imperial Guards claim they’ve tightened security to prevent cultist assassins—they guard the palace gates day and night, I can’t even get close to the Emperor’s bed.”
“…That is tricky.” Ruan Hongjiao frowned, visibly troubled and concerned for her. “But the fact that he’s still willing to come here is a good sign. As long as he’s around, there will always be an opening.”
Consort Wei’s expression softened noticeably. “That’s true. Let’s not even talk about the other consorts—they’re used to being neglected. But as for the Crown Prince, the Emperor used to summon him to Yangxin Hall every night to study state affairs. Now I hear he barely calls for him anymore. Zhu Helin must be terribly disappointed.”
She directly called the Crown Prince by name, a serious breach of palace protocol. Ruan Hongjiao pretended not to notice, carefully finishing her hair and applying sweet osmanthus oil for nourishment. “The Second Prince is adorable and naturally more favored by the Emperor. Isn’t there a saying among the common folk? Parents always love the youngest child the most.”
Consort Wei smiled. “Yes, Zhao’er is exceptional—he looks like the Emperor and is both clever and obedient. The Empress Dowager loves him dearly. When the Emperor looks at him, his gaze is especially tender. Do you think the Emperor loves Zhao’er more than… the Crown Prince?”
This was a question that no one, even if asked, could safely answer. Cold sweat soaked Ruan Hongjiao’s back, but she replied smoothly, “The imperial family is like the heavens, and I am mere dust. How could dust possibly know the will of the heavens? At most, I can offer a flower for Niang Niang to wear, and if His Majesty remarks that the flower only highlights your beauty, then that would already be a blessing bestowed upon my lowly ancestors.”
Consort Wei adored her even more in that moment, taking Ruan Hongjiao’s soft hand and placing it on her shoulder. “Massage my shoulders and back.”
Ruan Hongjiao not only obeyed but did it thoroughly and with exceptional skill.
Consort Wei slowly closed her eyes, her cheeks flushed with the faint pink of desire as she recalled her first meeting with Mr. He beneath the covered walkways of the Marquis’ residence garden.
The hazy light, the drifting mist, the otherworldly figure with hands pressed together in a sacred gesture, his gaze fixed upon her—that scene lingered in her heart, impossible to dispel. Yet instead of bringing her any tranquility, it ignited a heat in her chest that left her aching, as though she desperately needed someone to knead the tension from her bones.
Her breathing quickened, and she bit her lush red lips, now trembling with desire. “Hongjiao, there is something I wish to ask you…”
Ruan Hongjiao leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I dare not call it teaching—whatever Niang Niang commands, I will do my utmost to fulfill.”
Consort Wei gently rubbed her cheek against Ruan Hongjiao’s. “If a teacher has no mouth and no hands, how can he be called a ‘teacher’? How could he possibly enlighten others?”
Ruan Hongjiao paused, then silently smiled. “Please, Niang Niang, step into the bedchamber. I shall summon this ‘teacher’ to demonstrate in person.”
The red silk curtains quivered, and a pale, jade-like hand briefly emerged, its fingertips pressing hard into the palm before withdrawing. After a long while, a long, languid moan came from within the curtains.
When her breathing finally calmed, Consort Wei, her voice slightly hoarse, murmured, “Hongjiao, the teacher I truly desire… is another one.”
“I know, it’s His Majesty.”
Imperial Consort Wei said with a low laugh, tinged with heavy self-mockery. “His Majesty? He is supposed to be the support and hope of my life, but unfortunately, I can no longer wait for him. Even if I stripped myself bare and threw myself at him, I would only be humiliating myself. Since that is the case, how can I willingly waste my youth waiting for a rain that will never fall?”
Nuan Hongjiao caught the underlying implication and shivered. Whether in the palace or among commoners, it was not uncommon for women to ease their loneliness with objects, though it was shameful to speak of, it did not count as debauchery. But to actually have an affair—that was entirely different. Especially for a royal consort—harboring such thoughts was a crime punishable by extermination of the entire clan.
Why would the Imperial Consort tell her such a thing? Nuan Hongjiao’s mind spun, her heart tense, but her voice remained calm as she gently asked, “Your Highness means…?”
“…There is a guest scholar at the marquis’ residence—a man of extraordinary presence. From the moment I saw him, I felt as though we had a karmic tie from a past life that remains unfinished. I wish to continue that fate in this life. But I cannot openly ask for his feelings, and sending my maidservants might backfire due to their clumsy tongues. Your status, however, makes you the perfect person to sound him out and make the connection.”
My status! Nuan Hongjiao sneered inwardly. Yes, no matter how much people dressed it up with refined terms like “scholar,” “courtesan,” or “renowned performer,” wasn’t she still, essentially, a prostitute? If she could take clients, what was matchmaking in comparison? That the Imperial Consort would entrust such a thing to her—it was both trust and exploitation.
Nuan Hongjiao felt a strange calmness in her heart. She replied softly, “Your Highness, please tell me his name.”
“His name is… Mister He,” the Imperial Consort said, suddenly grabbing Nuan Hongjiao’s wrist, fixing her gaze on her. “If a fourth person comes to know of this, do you know the consequences?”
Nuan Hongjiao’s wrist ached under the grip, but she remained composed. “Your Highness, rest assured. Just from today’s conversation, my life is already forfeit. Your Highness’s grace is above all else. I am willing to serve you wholeheartedly.”
The Imperial Consort released her and smiled enchantingly. “Help me dress.”
—
With skilled physicians, excellent medicine, and martial experts channeling their inner energy, Su Yan’s fever came swiftly and left just as quickly. After sleeping most of the day and breaking into a heavy sweat at night, his fever subsided by the following morning.
However, his vitality was still significantly depleted—he remained dizzy and weak, listlessly lying in bed, needing to be served food and dressed.
He forced down half a bowl of bland porridge and felt sticky with sweat, wishing desperately for a bath. But his two young attendants strictly followed the physician’s orders: no bathing for the next couple of days to prevent catching cold, and his wounds must not touch water.
Even his personal guard, though filled with guilt and self-blame, was firm in obeying the physician’s instructions on this point.
Su Yan, always dominant and undefeated as the head of the household, was now utterly dejected, sulking under the covers and ignoring everyone.
After about fifteen minutes of silent protest, his guard was the first to give in, bringing several large braziers to heat the room thoroughly, then fetching a basin of hot water to carefully wipe him down bit by bit.
Although Su Yan felt a little embarrassed, considering his whole body had already been “washed” by his mistress’ saliva, fussing over modesty now seemed excessive. So he lay there limply, letting his guard handle it, while still grumbling, “My back wound isn’t healed yet. Don’t you dare take advantage of me while I’m helpless.”
His guard expressionlessly replied, “I’m not a beast,” while secretly feeling relieved that he had already sealed certain acupoints with silver needles to prevent any untimely reactions.
After being thoroughly wiped clean, Su Yan actually felt refreshed, even harboring the illusion that he could return to court the next day.
Jinghong Zhui ruthlessly shattered that illusion: “My lord, your qi and blood are both severely depleted. If you attend court tomorrow, I fear you’ll faint in the square.”
Su Yan angrily threw a pillow at him. “Whose fault do you think this is!”
“Mine,” Jinghong Zhui knelt by the bed, fully accepting the blame, willingly enduring the beating and scolding. When Su Yan grew thirsty from yelling, he even poured him tea.
Su Yan couldn’t stay angry at his pitiful look. After sufficiently venting his frustration, he returned to calm and patted the edge of the bed. “Come sit here. I have something to ask.”
Jinghong Zhui not only sat down but shamelessly took off his shoes and leaned over to hug his master.
Su Yan scratched him a few times but couldn’t move him in the slightest. The man’s body was solid and warm, and actually quite comfortable to nestle against, so he let it be.
Jinghong Zhui happily held his lord, only to have his joy immediately doused by the next question—
“How’s Qilang’s injury?”
Qilang this, Qilang that, so much for pretending to be indifferent.
Jinghong Zhui wanted to say, Beyond cure, hopeless, but feared a moment’s honesty would provoke his master’s anger. He could only answer honestly, “The wound was re-stitched. The physician said he’ll need to rest at least a month. But in my view, that guy’s physique is like a cockroach’s, and with his internal energy helping the healing, it probably won’t take that long.”
A cockroach—an apt but very cutting analogy, not without reason. Su Yan was speechless.
“Any movement from the Void Sect?”
Jinghong Zhui reported, “Most of their followers in the capital have already defected, many leaders have been arrested, and the remaining ones are fleeing like stray dogs, trying to evade the Embroidered Guards. The sect leader hasn’t shown himself since our last battle. As for the sect master, he remains hidden with no trace at all. We all suspect the Void Sect may get desperate and target you directly, so we’ve strengthened security inside and outside the residence.”
“‘We’ meaning… you and Shen Qi? Are you two not at each other’s throats anymore?”
Though temporarily sharing a common goal, Jinghong Zhui didn’t want to elaborate, so he simply said, in a chivalrous tone, “He’s severely injured now. It wouldn’t be honorable to fight him.”
A voice drifted in from outside the window. “Why didn’t you tell him I was involved too?”
Su Yan was startled. “Yu Wang?”
He remembered that before he passed out, he had been on Yu Wang’s horse—so it was probably him who brought Su Yan to the doctor. The attendants had said both Yu Wang and Jinghong Zhui had accompanied him back home.
He had thought Yu Wang would have already returned to his own residence, but unexpectedly, not only was he still here, he was shamelessly eavesdropping.
Su Yan pushed Jinghong Zhui away. Jinghong Zhui had no choice but to jump off the bed, put on his shoes, walk to the window, and stiffly say, “When exactly will Wangye return to your residence? My lord is ill and should not be receiving visitors.”
Yu Wang chuckled, his voice seeming to drift away outside the window. Moments later, he pushed the door open and came in, saying to Su Yan, “To guard against possible counterattacks from Void Sect assassins, I plan to stay here for a few more days. If Qinghe wants to know anything, just ask.”
Su Yan didn’t stand on ceremony and asked directly, “What’s the current trend at court? And the Wei family?”
“The wind is blowing every which way. The ministers are bickering, quarrelling, and taking sides in public—it’s quite the racket. But then again, court has always been noisy, and I think my imperial brother is used to it.” Yu Wang pulled up a backed chair and sat down in front of the bed in a relaxed posture, reaching out to push Su Yan, who had wanted to get up and dress, back onto the bed.
Jinghong Zhui gripped the hilt of his sword, cold and menacing as he glared at Yu Wang’s hand. If Su Yan hadn’t signaled him with his eyes, his blade would have been unsheathed already.
Yu Wang teasingly raised his eyebrows at Jinghong Zhui and continued, “The Void Sect is now a toxic tumor no one dares to touch. The ministers are all desperately distancing themselves. The Wei family is no exception. They’ve submitted two memorials: one reasserting ‘sacrificing familial ties for the sake of national law,’ and another stating ‘though we did not deliberately harbor them, the connection is undeniable.’ They even requested to have their stipends reduced by one rank as an example to others.”
Su Yan sneered, “What a self-serving show of ‘punish oneself with three cups of wine.’”
“Even the Empress Dowager spoke in their defense, saying every family has one or two unsavory relatives. Whoever breaks the law should be punished individually. If we start implicating entire families, the consequences will spread far and wide.”
Su Yan figured the Empress Dowager’s words were meant to remind the Emperor that she too was related to the Wei family by marriage—it wouldn’t do to cut them off entirely.
“Wan Xin is still in the imperial prison writing the materials I asked for. He cannot be killed for now, and I promised him he could atone for his crimes. Has the Emperor made a stance yet?”
“He hasn’t said so explicitly, but his actions speak volumes.”
“How so?”
Yu Wang leaned forward, deliberately lowering his voice so much that the bass seemed to resonate in Su Yan’s chest. “There are rumors in the palace that Consort Wei has been restored to favor. The Emperor stayed overnight at Yongning Palace for three consecutive nights—unprecedented favor!”
Su Yan’s momentary trembling instantly turned cold.
