The spring rain seemed to have swept away all the winter gloom, bringing several consecutive days of clear, sunny weather. Unlike the fine weather outside, the palace remained deathly still. In this stagnant silence, something seemed ready to emerge from underground, carrying a restless energy that made one feel danger approaching.

In the palace’s Yingshui Hall, a young and beautiful woman sat before her dressing table. She wore a flowing, cloud-brocade palace gown with subtle floral patterns. Though the colors weren’t particularly bright, the fine fabric and exquisite embroidery already drew the eye. Her hair was styled in a phoenix knot, her features delicate yet lacking brightness. Despite her youth, her makeup was elaborate, displaying a sharpness different from usual.

Her hands, painted with bright red nail lacquer, gently caressed her cheeks. The snow-white skin showed charming color from rouge application, yet it wasn’t the natural charm of a young girl – beautiful indeed, but like artificial flowers, appearing stiff and soulless.

A palace maid entered to report: “Your Ladyship, Miss Zhao has arrived.”

“Please invite her in,” Dong Ying’er smiled slightly, rising to recline gracefully on a nearby soft couch.

The beauty’s languid pose was completely different from her usual manner. Zhao Jin, upon entering the hall, was startled by this scene.

The gorgeously dressed beauty on the couch smiled upon seeing her arrival: “Zhao Jin.”

Zhao Jin steadied herself, standing in place and seeming to hesitate before walking toward the couch. Dong Ying’er was already patting the couch and smiling: “Come sit here.”

“This… wouldn’t be proper,” Zhao Jin pressed her lips together. “Your Ladyship is of noble birth…”

“Why such formality between us? Have you forgotten when we used to embroider handkerchiefs together and nap on the same couch?” Dong Ying’er waved dismissively, her casual words leaving Zhao Jin speechless.

Perhaps Dong Ying’er’s words touched deep memories. Zhao Jin couldn’t help recalling their girlhood when she, Dong Ying’er, Lin Zixiang, and Wen Feifei had grown up together as friends. Back then, the three were carefree, thinking only of delicious food and entertainment, with no family rivalries or court disputes – all worldly troubles were irrelevant to them. Those were probably life’s happiest days, unlike now with storm clouds gathering. Even the Zhao family, though seemingly secure for now, was like oil cooking on fire – who knew what the next step would bring? One wrong move led to complete ruin in this life-or-death gamble. A trace of sorrow crossed her face as she walked to sit beside Dong Ying’er, then looked up at her former friend.

Dong Ying’er appeared very different from before. Whether in makeup, clothing, or expression, though she smiled and tried to appear intimate as before, her face had lost its girlish brightness, instead gaining coolness and worldliness. Perhaps palace life wasn’t easy either. Dong Ying’er, flower-like in her youth, had been sent to the palace. Her father claimed Dong Ying’er now held high status in the rear palace, but Zhao Jin thought this was nonsense. What kind of place was the palace? Those seeking wealth and status might find it good, but Dong Ying’er had been pampered since childhood – wealth meant nothing to her. What she’d lost after entering the palace was far more precious, which explained her current strangeness. Zhao Jin sighed inwardly – among their group, Dong Ying’er was probably the most unfortunate.

Thinking this, Zhao Jin felt sympathy for Dong Ying’er, not noticing that this gaze, when it fell on Dong Ying’er, caused a flash of disgust to quickly cross her face. Then she heard Dong Ying’er’s laughing voice: “Since entering the palace, I’ve rarely seen you. Meeting now, I feel things have changed completely – do you have the same feeling?”

After Dong Ying’er entered the palace, her former sisters had all visited, but Dong Ying’er was moody then, barely acknowledging them each time. Lin Zixiang, being hot-tempered, had once argued with Dong Ying’er, but Dong Ying’er said nothing. Later, when Lin Zixiang saw the others, she said: “She’s determined to distance herself from us. Forget it – forced affection doesn’t last. We treat her as a sister, but she doesn’t treat us as sisters.”

Initially, Wen Feifei and Zhao Jin didn’t believe it. Being from military families, they weren’t as sensitive to emotions as Lin Zixiang. But even slow as they were, they gradually realized Lin Zixiang was right – Dong Ying’er was deliberately distancing herself. Zhao Jin particularly felt that several times when she accompanied her mother to the palace and tried to speak with Dong Ying’er, she was turned away by Dong Ying’er’s maids claiming she was busy. This happened repeatedly, seeming deliberately humiliating. Zhao Jin was baffled, and later when entering the palace, she no longer enthusiastically inquired about Dong Ying’er – who wanted to constantly offer their warm face to someone’s cold shoulder?

But now, Zhao Jin echoed her sentiment: “Indeed so. Among us back then, you were best at handling affairs and making friends. Seeing you now, you’ve truly made something of yourself.” Really made something of herself? Probably not entirely, but Zhao Jin was no longer the naive girl who understood nothing. Family pressure had matured her, and she now spoke with more consideration. Toward the changed Dong Ying’er, she couldn’t speak as freely as before, always maintaining some distance.

Hearing this, Dong Ying’er gave Zhao Jin a meaningful look and shook her head: “Time is truly merciless. I never expected that someone as straightforward as you would now speak such diplomatic words. Why be so formal with me? You know I grew up with you – we needn’t guess each other’s thoughts. Is the palace truly good? What does my so-called success amount to? Perhaps if His Majesty passes away someday, I’ll have to accompany him…”

These words startled Zhao Jin. She quickly looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping, and only relaxed when she saw no one. Momentarily forgetting Dong Ying’er’s status, she tapped her head: “Stop talking nonsense! Can you say such things carelessly? What are you thinking all day? They say to watch your words in the palace – you’re so smart, why act foolishly? Don’t you value your life?” After saying this in one breath, Zhao Jin was startled herself, suddenly realizing her impropriety. They had grown up together as close friends, and despite growing apart, when the other faced danger, she couldn’t help but worry.

Dong Ying’er seemed surprised by Zhao Jin’s reaction too. Complex emotions flashed in her eyes before quickly disappearing. She said lazily: “What’s to fear? The palace is like this daily – deep waters and scorching fire. If I worried constantly, how could I live? If it’s really as you think, it would be worse than death.”

Her words carried rare coldness and casualness, as if she didn’t value her own life. This dejection and desolation pained Zhao Jin’s heart. Originally, among their foursome, Lin Zixiang was straightforward to the point of rigidity, while she and Wen Feifei were carelessly military-minded. When disputes arose, Dong Ying’er would mediate. Perhaps inheriting Director Dong’s diplomatic skills, Dong Ying’er was remarkably thoughtful in problem-solving despite her young age. Among their playmates, even Lin Zixiang, though not saying so, secretly admired Dong Ying’er. Dong Ying’er was always warm and generous, naturally well-liked. Seeing such a bright, flower-like girl become like a withered tree left Zhao Jin with indescribable feelings – all unpleasant.

Seeing this, Dong Ying’er smiled slightly: “Actually, I asked you to the palace today not for this matter, but to apologize to you.”

“Apologize?” Zhao Jin was confused, looking at her: “For what?”

“You were right to feel I was distancing myself – it wasn’t your imagination. I did it deliberately. I truly distanced myself because for a time, I disliked and envied you greatly, so I didn’t want to see you. Seeing you made me angry, so I thought it better to act as if you weren’t my friend. That’s why I behaved that way, probably hurting your feelings.”

Hearing this, Zhao Jin was even more puzzled. Not minding the other implications of Dong Ying’er’s words, she asked: “Why did you dislike and envy me? Did I do something wrong?”

Among their playmates, Dong Ying’er’s distant attitude toward her was most obvious, almost undisguised. Zhao Jin had been confused herself, and now hearing Dong Ying’er say this, she finally asked the question that had long troubled her.

“Your engagement with General Jiang is settled, isn’t it? When will we drink at your wedding?” Dong Ying’er smiled instead, asking a different question.

“Next spring…” Zhao Jin felt embarrassed: “It’s not even close to settled…”

“How is it not settled? I’ve already heard that since both families have agreed, it won’t be long.” Dong Ying’er smiled teasingly: “General Jiang is quite good – young and promising with a bright future. Sister Ruan will be your sister-in-law, so she won’t let him bully you. There are no troublesome in-laws either – you’ll be in charge when you marry, only having good days ahead.”

Zhao Jin felt embarrassed by Dong Ying’er’s words, but found their conversation reminiscent of those carefree girlhood days when they’d discuss which young master fancied which young lady, teasing leisurely. She smiled: “You still haven’t said why you disliked me.”

Dong Ying’er looked at her with a gaze Zhao Jin found puzzling, then sighed: “Don’t laugh, but I was… fond of General Jiang too.”

One sentence answered all questions. Zhao Jin listened blankly as fragments flashed through her mind, weaving together to bring clarity. When Jiang Xinzhi wasn’t yet so prestigious and had just emerged in court, he’d rescued her and Dong Ying’er at a palace banquet. Dong Ying’er had seemed quite shy then, appearing very taken with Jiang Xinzhi. But Zhao Jin, being simple-minded, thought Dong Ying’er was just showing natural admiration for an excellent man, like their previous enthusiasm for some elegant scholar. But hearing Dong Ying’er now, she had truly loved Jiang Xinzhi then?

Best friends loving the same man was fatal to any friendship. Zhao Jin never imagined this would happen to her, thinking Dong Ying’er was just playing childishly, but she’d been serious. Zhao Jin suddenly didn’t know how to face Dong Ying’er – should she be angry that Dong Ying’er had become a stranger over this? Or guilty that as a good friend, she’d never noticed Dong Ying’er’s feelings?

Dong Ying’er smiled slightly: “I know your thoughts now. Whether you think me shameless or scandalous, that’s all in the past. When I entered the palace, I was unwilling and refused to accept fate. Seeing you all living so well, I felt envious, wondering why only I was so unfortunate. But now I accept my fate. Heaven is probably fair – my destiny has long been in his grasp, so why struggle? I’ve accepted fate, and those feelings for General Jiang have dissipated. Rest assured, my heart is now clear as a mirror – it’s all past.”

She spoke with composure tinged with vicissitudes, making even anger impossible. Zhao Jin’s originally confused and complex emotions gradually calmed under her words. She heard Dong Ying’er’s gentle voice continue: “I tell you this today only to avoid regrets. Everyone dies eventually, but dying with regrets is too unwilling. I have no friends in the palace – back home, I only had you friends. I don’t want to carry regrets…” Pausing, Dong Ying’er said: “As I mentioned earlier, I don’t know when I’ll depart, so before then, I hope to leave some remembrance.”

Hearing this, Zhao Jin immediately recalled her earlier words: “Have you heard some news? Why do you keep saying such things? Hasn’t Director Dong thought of any solutions? Your tone sounds like you don’t want to live.”

“Solutions?” Dong Ying’er laughed bitterly: “I told you, this is my fate – what solutions can I find? My first half of life is already ruined. What’s next? Even if I kept my life and lived anonymously, unable even to return home, what meaning would living have? As for Father, since he sent me here to preserve the Dong family, he should see things through. Better I preserve the Dong family’s reputation myself – at least giving the Dong family a loyal and righteous title.”

“You’re wrong to think this way. How can you…” Zhao Jin tried to continue, but Dong Ying’er interrupted: “Zhao Jin, can you forgive me?”

“I…” When someone was about to die, their words were kind. Moreover, thinking carefully, except for being cold toward them, Dong Ying’er hadn’t done anything excessive. They’d all grown up together, and regarding Jiang Xinzhi, Zhao Jin even felt sorry for Dong Ying’er. Fate couldn’t be forced, and Dong Ying’er’s current situation was truly pitiful. She steadied herself and looked at Zhao Jin: “I never blamed you. Liking someone isn’t wrong – I don’t resent you. I’ll always be your sister.”

Dong Ying’er smiled gently, reaching for Zhao Jin’s hand: “I know. After all these years, you’re the easiest to persuade. Probably only you would be so generous and not hold grudges against me. If it had been Zixiang’s beloved…” She smiled self-mockingly: “Did you bring what I asked for to the palace?”

Zhao Jin was listening seriously to Dong Ying’er when asked this: “I brought it. I had my brother secretly get it for me – he doesn’t even know I brought this to the palace.” Zhao Jin’s hometown produced precious ginseng. With the Emperor’s recent illness, the palace used ginseng faster daily, and collecting it from elsewhere took too long. It was known that the Zhao family had two good ginseng roots. When Dong Ying’er asked if she had any to bring for making medicine for the Emperor, Zhao Jin agreed. Her father paid little attention to such matters, so having her brother secretly take them would be fine. Zhao Jin only said she was giving them to a friend whose husband was seriously ill, and her second brother didn’t question it.

“Thank you,” Dong Ying’er smiled: “Though he’s the Emperor with three thousand beauties in his harem, I hope he can live longer. Not for anything else, but for my own sake…” She looked at Zhao Jin: “Thank you.”

“Between us, there’s no need for thanks,” Zhao Jin said boldly.

The two began chatting and laughing again, appearing like good sisters who’d never had any rift. They talked until the sky darkened outside. Since the Zhao family carriage waited outside and the Emperor was critically ill, Dong Ying’er couldn’t keep her longer, personally having her trusted maid escort Zhao Jin from the palace.

After Zhao Jin left, Yingshui Hall was again empty except for Dong Ying’er. She slowly walked to the pile of gifts Zhao Jin had brought, reaching for a sandalwood box at the bottom. The box was exquisitely crafted, carved with pine trees and cranes symbolizing longevity. Opening it revealed a flawless old ginseng root that even emitted a ginseng fragrance when smelled closely.

This was indeed Zhao family ginseng – Zhao Jin hadn’t lied and truly kept her word. Though precious, this ginseng couldn’t do much beyond helping sustain life. Bringing the dead back to life was impossible, so the Zhao family didn’t truly treasure these two roots as precious – if they wanted more, they could get some from their hometown.

Dong Ying’er reached out, gently lifting the old ginseng from the box, her face showing an imperceptible smile. She untied a sachet from her waist, then retrieved a locked small box from under her dressing table, taking out a bottle of water-like substance from each. She poured some powder from the sachet into the bottle, carefully shaking it thoroughly, then gently dipped the ginseng’s root tendrils from bottom to top in the bottle’s liquid. After an unknown time, she finally removed it.

Putting everything away, Dong Ying’er placed the old ginseng back in the small box, returned to her couch, removed a jade hairpin from her head to examine carefully, her lips revealing a mocking smile.

Friendship? Fate? What were those? So-called friendship was just self-preserving betrayal, while fate was always controlled by those with high positions and power. This world was never fair – since it was so unfair, why should she follow those rules? Sentiment? Worthless as grass!

Dong Ying’er thought hatefully that probably only someone like Zhao Jin would believe her words. But why did Zhao Jin believe her – was it stupidity or naivety? Dong Ying’er believed it was definitely the latter. Because Zhao Jin was protected in a stable environment, she could afford to be naive, while she herself needed to climb up in the palace – if naive, one careless mistake meant complete destruction. Why was this? What gave them the right?

Dong Ying’er’s nails dug into her palm, but she seemed to feel no pain. Her smile was somewhat twisted: “Zhao Jin, this is what you owe me. You stole my life and happiness – now it’s time for me to take it back.”

She called to a maid entering: “Pack up what Miss Zhao brought. The items in the box are two thousand-year-old ginseng roots. Remember to send them to the imperial kitchen – add a few slices when making medicine for His Majesty tonight.”

…

After the maid escorted Zhao Jin outside the palace, Zhao Jin smiled: “You may return. I’ll board my carriage now.” The maid responded and left. As Zhao Jin was about to step into her family’s carriage, she suddenly heard someone call her name from behind: “Jin’er.”

Zhao Jin turned around to see Jiang Xinzhi walking toward her. Somewhat surprised, she asked: “What are you doing here?”

“I came to the palace to discuss Ah Ruan’s matter with the Empress Dowager, hoping to deploy some troops to search for her,” Jiang Xinzhi answered briefly. Seeing her nod, he also asked: “Why did you enter the palace?”

“Ying’er invited me,” Zhao Jin replied. Seeing Jiang Xinzhi’s unfamiliar expression, she proactively added: “Consort Dong Xiu, Dong Ying’er.”

Understanding now, Jiang Xinzhi remembered meeting the strange-faced Dong Ying’er that day and frowned: “What did she want with you in the palace? Did she make things difficult for you?”

“No, no,” Zhao Jin quickly waved her hands. After thinking, she pulled Jiang Xinzhi’s arm toward her family carriage: “Come up and we’ll talk.”

Jiang Xinzhi followed Zhao Jin into the carriage, which had a small table where Zhao Jin poured him tea. Only now, sitting in the carriage and looking closely, did she notice Jiang Xinzhi’s face full of exhaustion, with light stubble on his chin uncleaned, appearing somewhat haggard and disheveled. Zhao Jin and Jiang Xinzhi hadn’t met for a long time. Since Jiang Ruan’s kidnapping, Jiang Xinzhi was busy daily investigating her whereabouts. Zhao Jin knew he was very busy, but seeing him now, perhaps Jiang Xinzhi was working even harder than she’d imagined. Zhao Jin couldn’t help feeling heartache.

Jiang Xinzhi drained the tea Zhao Jin offered in one gulp, wiping his mouth. Zhao Jin asked: “Still no news of Sister Ruan?”

Hearing this, Jiang Xinzhi’s eyes darkened as he shook his head.

Zhao Jin also felt sad. Her relationship with Jiang Ruan was very good. After Jiang Ruan’s incident, Zhao Jin had begged her brothers to mobilize friends to search, but after dozens of days, there was still no news of Jiang Ruan. Zhao Jin was extremely anxious, and some bad rumors were spreading, saying Jiang Ruan had likely met with misfortune. As Jiang Ruan’s good friend, Zhao Jin naturally didn’t believe this, but what did the continued lack of news mean? Zhao Jin was also very afraid.

“How can there be no news at all?” Zhao Jin asked: “These people couldn’t have run far. The city gates were guarded that day, and no suspicious people were seen. Since they’re in the capital, we’ve almost turned the entire city upside down these days. How is there still no news? Could these people fly through the sky and burrow underground? How can a perfectly good living person have no news? It must be those officials being incompetent, which is why they can’t find anyone.” Zhao Jin frantically blamed the Capital Magistrate.

But Jiang Xinzhi smiled bitterly and shook his head: “These people were premeditated. Now hiding Ah Ruan so well that no one can find her proves this point. People even the Embroidered Uniform Guards can’t find are truly difficult. Moreover, these people are very likely from Southern Border…” As Jiang Xinzhi spoke, his worry was evident. Southern Border people’s methods were most cruel – what he feared most was those insane Southern Border people using brutal means on Jiang Ruan. Just thinking of the torture Jiang Ruan might suffer made Jiang Xinzhi feel heart-piercing pain. He and Jiang Ruan had depended on each other for so many years, and he was still Jiang Ruan’s elder brother, yet he couldn’t even protect his sister. If something really happened to Jiang Ruan, Jiang Xinzhi would never forgive himself.

“Xinzhi, I’m a little scared,” Zhao Jin grasped Jiang Xinzhi’s hand: “I… I feel very uneasy.” Even as a general’s daughter, she’d heard of Southern Border people’s cruel secret arts. So many days had passed with no news of Jiang Ruan – what did no news mean? Could she have already met with misfortune? Everyone would think this.

“She won’t,” Jiang Xinzhi grasped Zhao Jin’s hand in return. His large hand completely enveloped her small one, holding it warmly and firmly. His voice was equally low, slow but resolute: “She won’t. Ah Ruan is very smart and strong – she won’t give up in any adversity. She’s my sister, and I understand her better than anyone. She’ll definitely find a way to protect herself while waiting for us to rescue her.”

Hearing this, Zhao Jin smiled with relief, seeming much comforted by Jiang Xinzhi’s words. She said no more, only resting her head on Jiang Xinzhi’s shoulder. But Jiang Xinzhi suddenly remembered something: “What did Dong Ying’er want with you in the palace today?”

Zhao Jin started, remembering Dong Ying’er’s words in the palace, but facing Jiang Xinzhi felt awkward – she couldn’t tell him about Dong Ying’er’s feelings for him. Though still slightly uncomfortable, Zhao Jin wasn’t petty. She was habitually honest and could only say vaguely: “Just catching up on old times.”

“Your relationship was always distant – what old times to catch up on?” Jiang Xinzhi pointedly identified the flaw in Zhao Jin’s words.

Zhao Jin felt embarrassed: “With His Majesty’s recent illness, she’s also troubled, probably uncertain about her future prospects. The palace has no one to confide in. Since we grew up together, I wouldn’t harm her, so she probably trusts only me now and spoke with me briefly. Nothing else.”

This was half true, half false, but was indeed a reason. Jiang Xinzhi heard this and remained silent for a long time before finally saying: “You should see less of her in the future – best not to see her at all.”

Zhao Jin was startled, wondering why Jiang Xinzhi said this. She didn’t know Jiang Xinzhi had recently met Dong Ying’er, nor did she know that meeting had caused complications. Thinking Jiang Xinzhi might have noticed something, though that should be impossible, she asked puzzledly: “Why?”

“Palace forces are complex,” Jiang Xinzhi said: “Your Zhao family’s current position is also awkward. If you get too involved with her and accidentally implicate the Zhao family, how will you handle it then?” Jiang Xinzhi thus warned her. He couldn’t tell Zhao Jin that Dong Ying’er wasn’t a good person. Moreover, with Zhao Jin’s straightforward nature, saying this might not be effective. Better to involve the entire Zhao family – Zhao Jin was most filial and would think twice before acting for the family’s sake.

Hearing this, Zhao Jin indeed stopped arguing, only hanging her head glumly. Knowing she tended to overthink, Jiang Xinzhi didn’t persuade her, knowing she’d figure it out herself. He just rubbed Zhao Jin’s head, though the heaviness in his gaze didn’t relax at all.

Jiang Ruan remained his greatest worry now.

At this moment, Jiang Ruan was in a quiet courtyard somewhere, in a certain room, staring thoughtfully at the large white dog lying lazily at her feet. These days, she had the mute maid prepare extra food daily to share with the dog, eliminating the need for separate dog food. The mute maid suspected nothing, truly bringing large portions of food daily. Jiang Ruan ate much alone, and the dog ate some too, but in the mute maid’s eyes, the big white dog was just rather gluttonous.

In these peaceful days, Jiang Ruan felt somewhat secretly anxious – why hadn’t Xuan Li acted yet? Only when Xuan Li acted could the plan proceed faster. Now pregnant, though this place was quiet, if something unexpected happened and she was carelessly discovered, it would only bring trouble. What she most wanted now was to protect the child in her womb.

Thinking this, she suddenly felt nausea rising in her throat. The sick feeling struck again as she quickly supported herself against the bed post, dry heaving. Just then, the mute maid entered carrying tea, and seeing this scene, startled before rushing forward in panic, looking at Jiang Ruan helplessly, not knowing what to do.

Jiang Ruan had just rubbed her chest – morning sickness reactions grew more obvious daily. Looking up to see the mute maid’s alarmed gaze, she thought: “Disaster!” Without thinking, she immediately said: “What was added to today’s food? My stomach hurts terribly!”

The mute maid started, then tried to run outside. Jiang Ruan shouted sternly: “Stop!”