In the dim light of dawn, she seemed to see his shadow once again.

Spring as deep as the sea, pear blossoms like snow. The young man stood beneath the pear tree, wearing a sapphire blue robe with a jade-adorned purple belt. Sunlight penetrated through the treetops, falling upon the corner of his eye, passing through his eyelashes to his nose bridge, casting a fan-like shadow. The young man gazed at her from afar, his laughter bright and clear as he called out loudly: “Hey! I’ve been waiting for you!”

Suddenly, the rippling light before her eyes shattered, and through a haze of indistinct light, she saw Wen Yuan’s anxious face. Wen Yuan’s mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t hear what she was saying.

She knew she was probably ill again. People surrounded her, someone pulling at her arm, shaking her urgently, shaking until she felt pain.

She frowned, somewhat angry, wanting to scold these servants for their roughness, but her throat seemed unresponsive. She tried hard to open her mouth, yet like a fish at the bottom of the sea, she could only open and close it silently, without a breath of sound.

Wen Yuan grew anxious and scolded a young eunuch nearby: “Why hasn’t the Emperor arrived yet? Has he been notified?”

The young eunuch’s face was ashen, his voice trembling with tears as he knelt and replied: “This servant’s legs are nearly broken from running, and the message was sent in long ago, but Consort Cheng said the Emperor was taking his afternoon nap and that any matter should wait until the Emperor awakes.”

“How outrageous!” Wen Yuan raged. “How dare Consort Cheng! Is this something she can take responsibility for?”

Having been at Nalan’s side for so long, Wen Yuan had gained considerable authority. Seeing her anger, all the servants knelt, not daring to speak.

Nalan, however, thought that Wen Yuan was becoming increasingly bold, daring to speak such words. If they reached Consort Cheng’s ears, it would surely cause another storm.

Since she couldn’t speak for the moment, she continued to rest with her eyes closed, letting the servants scurry about anxiously like ants on a hot pan.

Consort Cheng had indeed become somewhat improper, relying on her maternal family and her two princes, acting with increasing disregard. Yet she didn’t know that blessings often come with disasters—today’s support could become tomorrow’s calamity if one acts so recklessly and without restraint. It seemed that once her health improved, she would need to teach her a good lesson, or else this vast harem would be thrown into chaos.

She sighed wearily, feeling somewhat drowsy, too listless to try speaking again. The surrounding clamor gradually faded away as she once more fell into a dark, deep sleep.

Consort Cheng, also known as Cheng Rongrong, was the cousin of Great General Cheng Yuan. After the Great Yan established its capital in Zhen Huang, to enrich the imperial harem and win over powerful ministers, Consort Cheng and several other daughters of important court officials entered the palace together. Due to her brother’s influence at court and her beauty and intelligence, she was promoted several times and won the Emperor’s favor. Indeed, she proved herself worthy, soon giving birth to twin princes for Yan Xun, rising to become the foremost of the three consorts, with status second only to the Empress.

She had originally been a clever woman who knew her limits, but unfortunately, after years of honor and favor, she increasingly acted without restraint, her speech becoming more rash and impulsive.

Yan Xun slept for a long time until the evening sun blazed red and the aroma from the imperial kitchen filled every corner of the Sacred Gold Palace before he finally awoke.

The previous night, urgent reports had come from the border, and Yan Xun had not slept all night. He still felt somewhat dizzy now.

Consort Cheng knelt on the footstool, wearing a soft goose-yellow gauze, charming and alluring as she offered Yan Xun a cup of flower tea, casually mentioning interesting happenings from various palaces.

Yan Xun listened absent-mindedly, occasionally responding, when suddenly a fragment of speech drifted into his ear. He paused slightly and asked, “What did you say?”

Consort Cheng was inwardly startled but forced herself to remain calm, maintaining her smile as she said: “At noon, Xiao Shunzi from the Southeast Palace came to say the Empress was unwell. Seeing Your Majesty sleeping soundly, I didn’t dare wake you. I suspected the servants were being ignorant and making a fuss over nothing. The Empress’s poor health is common knowledge, and she wouldn’t want to disturb Your Majesty with such matters. I’m sure she was unaware of this; if she had known, she would have punished that servant rather than allowed him to disturb Your Majesty.”

Yan Xun sat on the sleeping couch, not speaking for a moment. He quietly washed his hands, wiped his face, drank tea, and put on his boots, his gaze profound, his expression calm, his thoughts unreadable.

Consort Cheng was inwardly pleased, busily helping Yan Xun dress and wash, but to her surprise, once Yan Xun had dressed, he prepared to leave. Consort Cheng anxiously spoke up: “Will Your Majesty not stay for dinner?”

Yan Xun slowly turned around. The sunset shone on his face with a faint golden light, making his eyes appear even deeper, like profound springs. He looked at Consort Cheng silently, showing no visible anger, yet his gaze was enough to send chills down one’s spine and make one’s body cold.

Consort Cheng immediately knelt, her beautiful face drained of color. The fate of the Emperor’s once-favored concubine Yuan Shilan flashed before her eyes, making her tremble with fear.

The hall was silent. After an unknown length of time, a maid whispered in her ear: “My Lady, the Emperor has left.”

She slowly raised her head, feeling cold sweat on her temples, and stood up weakly, nearly falling. The maid cried out in alarm and supported her, helping her to sit on the soft couch.

She covered her chest with her hand, her face pale, and remained silent for a long time.

She knew that although the Emperor had said nothing, in that instant, she had come infinitely close to death.

As the sky grew darker, she silently contemplated, finally exhaling deeply and saying to her servant: “Give thirty strokes to Xiao Dengzi who was guarding the door today, then prepare generous gifts. Tomorrow, go to the Empress’s palace gate to ask forgiveness, saying the doorkeeper was lazy and delayed the message.”

The maid assented, and though fearful, did not dare to question. Soon, Xiao Dengzi’s screams, each louder than the last, could be heard from outside.

After all, one who could climb to her current position would never be a simple, ignorant woman. She knew her limits and understood propriety. Even if she occasionally forgot herself, once there was any sign of trouble, she would quickly come to her senses.

Today’s warning had been enough for her to understand.

“Liu Xue, prepare incense, candles, and scriptures. Beginning tomorrow, I will go to the temple daily to copy scriptures and pray for the Great Yan’s blessings.”

“Yes.”

This test had been enough.

Cheng Rongrong sighed, her fingers touching the brocade quilt where Yan Xun had just lain, feeling only coldness.

By the time Yan Xun reached the Southeast Palace, the sky had completely darkened.

The Southeast Palace had few lights, and the imperial physicians had already withdrawn. When the court attendants saw him, they hurriedly knelt and were about to announce him, but he interrupted them. He walked straight in, with all the palace maids and eunuchs kneeling on the ground, their black heads bowed low, winding to that cold and quiet palace gate.

She had already gone to sleep, lying amidst layers of brocade, her face pale, her hair disheveled, appearing terribly thin.

Wen Yuan, with a face full of joy, laid out soft cushions on the sleeping couch for him, but he pulled over a chair himself and sat opposite Nalan.

All the maids and servants withdrew, leaving only the two of them. He sat quietly while she slept deeply.

It seemed he had never seen her like this before. In his memory, Nalan Hong Ye had always been dignified in demeanor and exquisitely beautiful, wearing noble attire, adorned with elegant makeup, her words and actions flawless, her face always wearing a detached smile, filled with the royal air accumulated over long years.

Even on their wedding night, in the intimacy of the bedchamber, she never lost the elegant demeanor of a princess.

Never like now—disheveled, haggard, skeletal.

She had truly grown thin. Looking at her now, he could hardly connect her with the brilliant Princess Imperial of before.

Time rushes on; in the blink of an eye, so many years have passed.

He said nothing, just sat quietly for a while before leaving, but this brief visit was enough to make the servants of the Southeast Palace overjoyed. Wen Yuan happily bustled about the outer hall, arranging various reception matters, because the Emperor had said before leaving that he would come to visit again tomorrow.

As soon as the palace gates were locked, Nalan opened her eyes.

She had grown thin, with sunken eye sockets, but her gaze remained sharp and calm, possessing the wisdom and dignity cultivated over many years.

That chair still stood by her bed, empty now, its nanmu wood carved with auspicious patterns of twin dragons playing with a pearl, with circles upon circles of swirling clouds.

After all these years, Nalan Hong Ye, do you have even a shred of regret?

In the dim lamplight, she silently questioned herself.

Finally, she merely smiled faintly and closed her eyes.

The palace continued as always, days passing one by one. The weather gradually grew colder, and braziers were lit in the rooms, yet Nalan’s health showed no improvement. Nearly half the Imperial Medical Academy had moved in, taking up residence at the Southeast Palace gate, coming and going throughout the day without end.

This morning was once again the day for the young princes’ lessons. Yu Shu brought Yong to visit Nalan, bringing bird’s nest and ginseng, sitting in the warm bedchamber to keep Nalan company.

After chatting about various things for a while, seeing that Nalan had grown tired, Yu Shu was about to take her leave when Nalan asked in a light tone: “Tomorrow is Prince Xuan’s death anniversary, isn’t it?”

Yu Shu was slightly taken aback. For some reason, a string deep in her heart suddenly grew extremely taut. She replied softly: “Yes.”

Nalan nodded, and nearby Wen Yuan smiled as she presented a brocade box. Nalan said quietly: “The Prince made contributions to the country. My health is poor and I cannot go to pay respects, so would the Princess Consort take this small token from me?”

A chill suddenly crept into the warm bedchamber, climbing from Yu Shu’s fingers up her arm. She accepted the brocade box with a stiff posture, lightly biting her lower lip, respectfully bowing her head: “Your servant will thank the Empress for this gift on behalf of my late husband.”

Nalan shook her head, about to speak, when suddenly a maid ran in from outside and whispered something in Wen Yuan’s ear. Wen Yuan’s expression immediately froze, and she turned to look at Nalan.

Yu Shu immediately rose to take her leave, and seeing this, Nalan did not detain her.

Outside the hall, the sun shone brightly. Yu Shu’s palms were covered in cold sweat. She clutched a corner of her garment tightly as if by doing so she could completely suppress some thoughts.

Suddenly, she saw a group of eunuchs hurrying frantically toward the west. Yu Shu, seeking a distraction, casually asked her maid: “What happened? What are those people doing?”

The young maid, accustomed to coming and going into the palace, was quite shrewd. She went to inquire briefly and returned with an alarmed expression, saying: “Princess Consort, Beauty Yuan of the Western Cold Palace has hanged herself.”

“Beauty Yuan?”

Yu Shu was startled and asked in surprise.

The young maid licked her lips and said: “She used to be Consort Chu.”

“Yuan Shilan?”

Now it was Yu Shu’s turn to be shocked.

Consort Chu, originally named Yuan Shilan, was the most legendary favored concubine in the imperial harem since the founding of Great Yan.

She had originally been a minor laundry maid in the imperial harem who, after making a mistake, was thrown into the punishment chamber. Unexpectedly, this small palace maid knew some rudimentary martial arts and injured the matron guarding her at night, escaping from the punishment chamber. In her panicked flight, she collided with the Emperor’s carriage as he was returning from the study. Shot with an arrow and with nowhere to run, she slammed her head against the palace gate of Chu Lan Hall, preferring death to surrender.

Fortunately, she was later rescued. The Emperor admired her spirit and elevated her from a mere slave to a fifth-rank Noble Lady, showing her extreme favor. Within half a year, Yuan Shilan exclusively enjoyed the Emperor’s love, rising meteorically to finally be named Consort Chu. Although this caused various dissatisfaction and criticism from the court, the Emperor never wavered. Her prominence in the palace was unmatched, with no one able to compare.

Until a stormy night three months ago, after an incident in Chu Lan Hall, the once-pampered Consort Chu suddenly fell from favor. Within three days, of her position as a second-rank Pure Consort, she was demoted four consecutive times, becoming a mere seventh-rank Beauty, living alone in the Western Cold Palace.

No one knew what had happened that night, only that Consort Chu had allegedly quarreled with the Emperor and, in a fit of anger, disfigured herself, becoming neither human nor ghost, naturally incurring imperial wrath and demotion.

When palace people spoke of this matter, they naturally mocked and ridiculed. Firstly, Yuan Shilan had been extremely arrogant when in favor, ignoring other consorts in the palace. Secondly, since ancient times women had served the sovereign with their beauty; she was foolish enough to disfigure herself, naturally earning no sympathy from others.

“Princess Consort? Princess Consort?”

The young maid was somewhat frightened and called several times. Yu Shu came to her senses and quickly said: “Leave the palace immediately.”

Passing through the second gate, the carriage rumbled along. In the far distance, crows flew past, stirring up cold winds. Several black feathers fell, drifting slowly downward, gradually melding into this lonely palace.