Zhaoyi Lan was already scared out of her wits, no longer even caring about her own maid, scrambling frantically out of the cold palace’s gate and running for her life down the palace road.

The people behind her were chasing urgently, yet for some reason never caught up. In her panic she didn’t think much of it, simply assuming she’d been driven to unlock some hidden burst of running speed, and dashed forward with everything she had.

“Who goes there!” Nearing the Hall of Mental Cultivation, guards finally stopped her. Soaked through, Zhaoyi Lan collapsed to the ground in a disheveled heap. “There are assassins!”

The guards looked blank, glancing behind her. “There’s no one.”

Zhaoyi Lan was startled and turned to look back — amid the curtain of rain, whoever had been chasing her was nowhere to be seen at all.

“Where are you from?” The guard grabbed her and asked.

“Youyang Palace,” Zhaoyi Lan stammered. “But don’t send me back there — I need to see the Emperor!”

Still wanting to see the Emperor in this state? The guard was quite disdainful, and grabbed her, about to send her back to Youyang Palace.

“Let go of me! Let go of me now!” Zhaoyi Lan quickly said, “I have something to report to Consort Hua — pass word along, she’ll want to see me!”

“Consort Hua is attending the Emperor tonight — how would she have time to see you?” the guard scoffed. “Better to go back for now, and see her tomorrow!”

“No!” Zhaoyi Lan looked back in terror at the road she’d come from. “There are assassins in Youyang Palace — if you send me back, I’ll lose my life! Please, I beg you! I’ll wait right here, that’s fine too!”

The rain kept falling without pause; her hairpins had come loose and her hair stuck to her face, giving her a rather frightening look. The guard seemed to be completely ignoring what she said, insistent on dragging her back toward Youyang Palace.

“What’s going on here?” A woman’s voice sounded nearby. “So much noise — aren’t you afraid of disturbing His Majesty?”

Consort Hua turned back — no wait, it was a palace maid from the Hall of Mental Cultivation. She quickly said, “I’m Zhaoyi Lan, I need to see Consort Hua!”

Qing Niao walked over holding an umbrella and glanced at her. “Zhaoyi Lan?”

“Yes! Your mistress even came to find me earlier today, asking for the medicine recipe! I have the recipe right here, I can write it out for her right away — please, don’t let them send me back to Youyang Palace!”

Looking somewhat conflicted, Qing Niao said, “As for the recipe and such, my mistress probably doesn’t care much about it. Aren’t you the consort who’s locked up in the cold palace? Running out like this — you’re bound to be punished for it.”

“I…” Zhaoyi Lan grew anxious. “I still don’t want to die! Consort Hui is trying to kill someone!”

Qing Niao was startled, as if taken aback, then glanced at the guard nearby and said, “How about this — bring her into the Hall of Mental Cultivation, put her in the side hall, and I’ll ask around to find out what’s going on.”

“Yes.” The guard agreed, escorting her forward alongside Qing Niao.

Zhaoyi Lan let out a huge sigh of relief; rainwater and tears mixed together on her face, and with a lingering fear she glanced back once, walking even faster than the person escorting her.

The main hall had already gone dark. Qing Niao brought her into the side hall, fetched brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, and said, “You said you can write the recipe — then write it.”

Zhaoyi Lan pursed her lips and glanced at her. “Can I stay the night here?”

“This servant isn’t clear on the rules of this palace,” Qing Niao said, looking somewhat blank. “If you want to stay the night here, that’s fine too — once the mistress wakes tomorrow, this servant will report it then.”

She seemed to be a newly arrived palace maid? Zhaoyi Lan relaxed, calmed herself for a moment, and then began writing.

“What kind of recipe is this?” Qing Niao asked curiously. “A sedative?”

“Your mistress wanted it — this servant doesn’t know what she plans to do with it, but once I hand it over, it’s no longer my concern,” Zhaoyi Lan said, her voice still somewhat trembling — she’d clearly been badly frightened, and the characters she wrote came out shaky. “This recipe isn’t to be shared with anyone else.”

Qing Niao nodded as if only half understanding, and once she’d finished writing, casually collected it, and pointed toward the bed. “Please rest well. Whatever else there is, we’ll discuss it again tomorrow morning.”

“All right.”

Seeing the bed and blankets, Zhaoyi Lan was nearly moved to tears. She took off her wet clothes, changed into a maid’s nightgown, and curled up inside.

Qing Niao closed the door behind her, had people watch the doors and windows carefully, then silently slipped into the main hall and placed the recipe on the table.

“All right, light the lamp — I’m not asleep.” Hua Chun’s voice rang out from the inner chamber, startling Qing Niao. She quickly lit the palace lamp, lifted the curtain at the partition, and handed the recipe over.

Neither the Emperor nor Hua Chun had been asleep. Taking the recipe, Hua Chun leaned against the Emperor and studied it carefully for a long while.

“Do you understand medicine?”

“No.”

“Then what use is looking at it?” The Emperor pursed his lips and reached over to snatch the recipe, glancing over it. “A sedative.”

Rolling her eyes, Hua Chun said, “I know it’s a sedative too — it’s the same kind Zhaoyi Lan smeared on my eyes. Most sedatives work through breathing or the digestive tract, but this one, applied even just a bit to the eyes, can knock someone out — worth looking into a bit.”

Scanning it, the Emperor’s gaze landed on three characters. “Mountain eggplant flower.”

“Hmm?” Hua Chun looked closer. “What about mountain eggplant flower?”

“There shouldn’t be any of this herb left in the palace,” the Emperor said. “Mountain eggplant flower is a medicinal herb, but it can also cause paralysis and unconsciousness. In the past it was exploited by ill-intentioned people in the palace, and a life was lost because of it, so the Empress Dowager ordered the Imperial Pharmacy to eliminate this drug entirely, replacing it with other herbs of similar properties but weaker toxicity.”

Hua Chun was stunned, and looked at the recipe again. “If it’s not in the palace, then where did she get it?”

“That… I’m afraid we’ll have to ask Consort Hui about that.” A hint of dark light flickered in his eyes as the Emperor looked at her. “The distribution of resources in the palace has always been under her management.”

Consort Hui? Hua Chun perked up, straightening her back.

She’d originally thought that with Zhaoyi Lan taking the blame for harming her entirely on herself, Consort Hui would be out of the picture — but now there was another hidden thread here?

Thinking it over carefully, she turned to ask Qing Niao, “Do you remember what Rui’er said today?”

Qing Niao looked puzzled. “What?”

“Consort Hui sleeps poorly and loves incense, so a lot of precious medicinal herbs from the Imperial Pharmacy have been monopolized by her for making incense,” Hua Chun said, raising an eyebrow. “She’s in charge of the palace’s resources — if she’s short on some herb, might she have someone smuggle it in from outside the palace?”

Qing Niao was stunned, thought it over, and nodded. “That’s possible.”

“Let’s not rush things.” Hua Chun placed the recipe into Qing Niao’s hand. “Have the imperial physician take a look tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Qing Niao agreed, her face slightly flushed as she glanced at the two of them on the bed, and hurriedly withdrew again.

Feeling the dawn of hope ahead, Hua Chun’s mood turned wonderful, and she lay back, letting out a burst of wolf-like howling.

The Emperor covered his ears, then pulled the blanket up to press down on this restless person, and said, “Your emotions always show on your face so plainly — that’s no good for you.”

Pouting, Hua Chun said, “If it weren’t just you here, do you think I’d be carrying on like this? I’d definitely be all calm expression with a faint smile at the corner of my mouth, wouldn’t I?”

Slightly startled, the Emperor turned his head to glance at her, then said nothing more, keeping his mouth shut.

Giving a light hum, Hua Chun smiled and turned over, finally settling down to sleep with peace of mind.

The next day, at first light, the imperial physician was hauled off to the Hall of Mental Cultivation early in the morning.

“Take a look at these incenses.” Hua Chun asked with a serious expression. “Can you tell what spices and medicinal ingredients are in them?”

The physician was quite at a loss — he was a doctor, not an incense-maker. But since the woman before him was currently in great favor, he couldn’t afford to offend her, and could only carefully sniff each one, writing down names on paper as he went.

After half an hour, Hua Chun picked up what he’d written and scanned it, accurately spotting the three characters “mountain eggplant flower.”

If it was even in the incense, then the palace surely had a supply.

“Much obliged to the physician.” Hua Chun nodded with a smile, had Qing Niao see him out, then sent attendants to go probe around the Imperial Pharmacy for information.

“Your Highness.” Rui’er said. “Zhaoyi Lan is awake and asking to see you.”

“Let her in.”

“Yes.”

After a night’s sleep, Zhaoyi Lan’s spirits had recovered somewhat, though her face was still rather pale. She came in and knelt down properly at once. “Consort Hua, this guilty concubine begs Consort Hua to save her life!”

Hua Chun looked at her curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Yesterday assassins broke into Youyang Palace — this guilty concubine nearly lost her life.” Zhaoyi Lan gritted her teeth. “This guilty concubine doesn’t want to die so soon — in this whole palace, only Your Highness can save this guilty concubine, so…”

Hua Chun waved a modest hand. “This palace is only a consort — what could I possibly save you from? You’d better hurry back, before anyone discovers you’ve fled the cold palace, or you’ll get more than your fair share of beatings.”

Hadn’t she wanted to win her over before? Now that she’d come offering herself up, why was she refusing? Zhaoyi Lan simply couldn’t understand it, and looked up at her. “Don’t you want to know why this guilty concubine went after you?”

Slightly stunned, Hua Chun said, “Wasn’t it out of jealousy?”

“It wasn’t!” Zhaoyi Lan said. “Someone ordered this guilty concubine to drug you, but… what they intended to do afterward actually had nothing to do with this guilty concubine.”

Everyone was a master at whitewashing themselves — Hua Chun looked at her calmly. “Even if you say that now, it changes nothing. Those two eunuchs both belonged to your palace.”

“They were indeed people from my palace, but they were given to this guilty concubine by Consort Hui — they never listened to this guilty concubine’s orders at all!” Zhaoyi Lan said urgently. “Your Highness, do you still not see who has been behind every attack in this palace all along?”

Hua Chun looked utterly blank. “Who?”

Zhaoyi Lan was practically ready to explode, gripping the hem of her skirt. “It’s Consort Hui!”

“Huh?” Startled, Hua Chun looked at her with total disbelief. “How could you slander Consort Hui like this?”

“This guilty concubine isn’t slandering her — everything I’ve said is the truth!” Zhaoyi Lan’s eyes had gone red. “This guilty concubine did so many terrible things on her behalf, never expecting that in the end she’d try to have me killed off entirely! Things have come to this point — going back to Youyang Palace means death anyway, so this guilty concubine might as well speak the truth plainly before I die!”

Suspicion filled Hua Chun’s eyes as she looked at her, and that gaze only made Zhaoyi Lan more furious. She spoke at once: “It was Consort Hui who secretly ordered Attendant Nie’s murder a year ago, and it’s the same Consort Hui using the same methods now to try to kill you! From beginning to end, this guilty concubine has been nothing but a knife in someone else’s hand!”