To this day, Noble Consort Guo was no longer the ignorant person she once was. Looking at Noble Consort Guo who remained calm despite her grief over losing her son, Hu Shanwei felt no comfort whatsoever. On the contrary, she felt increasingly desolate. She had pulled Noble Consort Guo back from the brink of self-destructive crisis, taught her all of Empress Xiaoci’s instructions, hoping the palace would continue in peace, yet reality had slapped her hard once again.
If Prince Lu truly ate himself to death, so be it. With immature intellect in his youth, bad people took advantage of his vulnerability. Now in his twenties as a mature adult, if he remained so willful, he had to accept the consequences of his willfulness.
But if Prince Lu died from poisoning… following Hu Shanwei’s principle of “whoever plays palace intrigue, I’ll deal with them—no one is allowed to cause trouble,” even without Noble Consort Guo’s difficult kowtow, Hu Shanwei would investigate the truth and catch the real culprit.
Hu Shanwei helped Noble Consort Guo to her feet: “Your Ladyship, rest assured, this subject—”
“Your Ladyship, Instructor Shen has come requesting audience.” Nanny Guo entered, interrupting her words.
Over these six years, Shen Qionglian had been promoted to sixth-rank Ceremonial Official in the Bureau of Ceremonies. Since her work remained primarily as court poet and educator, she was still called Instructor Shen.
Hearing that Shen Qionglian had come, Noble Consort Guo’s heart ached again—she had always been her son’s unattainable white moonlight.
“Let her enter,” Noble Consort Guo said.
Shen Qionglian had already changed into mourning clothes. Snow on her feet instantly melted in the room’s warmth. She said: “Upon hearing the terrible news about Prince Lu, he was once my student. I taught him poetry and the ‘Wu Yi’ chapter of the Book of Documents. From the content of this tragic news, Prince Lu clearly didn’t take my teaching of ‘Wu Yi’ to heart, but once a teacher, always a teacher. I want to go to Yanzhou with Official Hu to see off this student.”
Shen Qionglian’s words carried barbs, seeming to say Prince Lu was willful and unruly, but actually contained a trace of tender feeling. Noble Consort Guo was no longer shallow as in the past—she understood Shen Qionglian’s deeper meaning.
Noble Consort Guo said: “Your going to see him off is his honor.”
Thus Shen Qionglian joined Prince Lu’s funeral team. When supervisor Palace Manager Cui learned of this, she wanted to stop it but was too late. She could only advise before departure: “Prince Lu’s residence isn’t like the deep palace—you’re unfamiliar with people and places there. After arriving, restrain your curiosity. Just attend Prince Lu’s funeral—don’t involve yourself in other matters, especially stay away from Hu Shanwei.”
Shen Qionglian asked: “Why?”
Palace Manager Cui said: “Since ancient times, one general’s success is built on ten thousand bones. Those who walk to the end must have many people fall before them. Hu Shanwei has a hard fate—all who oppose her meet bad ends. You don’t have Hu Shanwei’s strong fate, so stay away from her lest you get implicated.”
Palace Manager Cui spoke from experience. Having spent many years in the palace with her own insights, Hu Shanwei had walked through various storm centers and still lived intact with all limbs—such fortune belonged only to an extremely small portion of people. Most who touched it died, becoming cannon fodder just at crisis edges.
Shen Qionglian was the Bureau of Ceremonies’ most brilliant figure. Palace Manager Cui cherished her and couldn’t bear to see her hurt or killed.
Shen Qionglian said: “I understand. Palace Manager Cui needn’t worry.”
How could Palace Manager Cui be reassured? Shen Qionglian entered the palace at only thirteen—she’d practically watched her grow up, both subordinate and daughter-like, carefully protecting her, planning to leave the fifth-rank Palace Manager position to her when she could no longer work and retired.
Palace Manager Cui personally packed Shen Qionglian’s luggage, wishing she could bring even a chamber pot: “Bring bedding—don’t sleep on relay station beds, beware of lice; only use your own cups and chopsticks, scald them with boiling water before use; bring two bundles of toilet paper—the palace’s is softer…”
In the vast inner palace, overnight the entire city wore white mourning. Early spring felt even colder than winter.
Palace Manager Cao also instructed her subordinates. Unlike Palace Manager Cui’s gentle spring breeze advice, Palace Manager Cao stabbed with every sentence: “I know you’re capable, but even capable people can capsize in gutters if careless—including you. After going there, stick to facts, don’t mix in personal emotions—this will affect your judgment. Also, with Prince Lu’s death, Noble Consort Guo’s empress enthronement becomes inevitable. Return to the palace quickly after handling funeral affairs—you cannot miss the empress enthronement ceremony. Otherwise, after working so hard to plant trees, beware others picking your peaches.”
Hu Shanwei said: “What Palace Manager Cao said… what does the last sentence mean?”
Palace Manager Cao said: “When Noble Consort Guo becomes empress, one person’s success lifts all associates. You’ve held the Official position for ten years—I should have some perception. It’s time to retire and yield to the worthy—you should take my position.”
Hu Shanwei quickly said: “Palace Manager Cao, you misunderstand—”
“I’m not misunderstanding.” Palace Manager Cao said: “I know you’re not someone who steps on others to rise. I’m considering the future of the six bureaus and one department. The six bureaus and one department’s power comes from the empress, so the palace’s manager must be the empress’s confidant. If Noble Consort Guo becomes empress while I remain in this position, the six bureaus and one department will inevitably split and conflict—old forces led by me versus new forces led by you.”
“Later waves of the Yangtze push earlier waves—earlier waves inevitably get beaten to death on the beach. Eventually someone will find ways to pull me down and push you up, going with the flow to gain advancement opportunities. In officialdom, one cannot help oneself—one position, one person. Even if you don’t want to step on me to rise, how many people are eyeing your position, wanting you to rise so they can fill the vacancy you leave?”
“This is like birth, aging, sickness, and death—natural law. Many people know this yet resist stubbornly, indulging their official addiction, thinking they can defy fate and change destiny. They try various methods to cling to positions without leaving, doing self-deceiving things, letting old and new forces bite each other, killing batches of innocent cannon fodder, yet still get driven off stage in the end with miserable outcomes. When I leave, I’ll leave beautifully and steadily, handing over leadership of the six bureaus and one department to you with minimal turbulence.”
Palace Manager Cao’s heartfelt words greatly shocked Hu Shanwei. She suddenly understood why Palace Manager Cao had been exceptionally promoted by Empress Xiaoci to lead female officials, becoming the first Palace Manager under forty years old.
Because beneath Palace Manager Cui’s seemingly shallow exterior lay a broad perspective and self-sacrificing spirit similar to Empress Xiaoci’s—seeing clearly, thinking clearly, and acting clearly. When she said let go, she let go.
Bureau of Palace Attendants Manager—head of female officials. When Hu Shanwei entered the palace, this position seemed so distant that even thinking about it felt ridiculous. Now this position was within reach, yet she felt no joy.
She felt mentally exhausted. Through struggle after struggle, escaping desperate situations, she’d originally thought that assisting Noble Consort Guo well would restore palace stability and stop so many innocent deaths. But in the end, it seemed useless—Noble Consort Guo’s near-complete transformation brought her the terrible news of her only son’s tragic death.
Power struggles never stopped—someone was always causing trouble.
Then what was the meaning of all my efforts these years?
Hu Shanwei questioned her work for the first time, honestly telling Palace Manager Cao: “I’ve been somewhat confused lately. I don’t want to disappoint Palace Manager Cao’s expectations. During the trip to Yanzhou, Palace Manager Cao might consider other suitable candidates.”
Palace Manager Cao didn’t believe it, looking her up and down: “Have you taken the wrong medicine lately? First time seeing a female official who doesn’t want to be Palace Manager. Think it through clearly—with your current status and influence, if you don’t become Palace Manager, whoever sits in that position will definitely suppress and squeeze you first. No one wants to see someone who could replace them anytime swaying before their eyes. So you face only two paths—either become Palace Manager or retire from the palace.”
Palace Manager Cao’s gaze was sharp—human warmth and coldness, official intrigue, nothing escaped her eyes.
Thus Hu Shanwei departed with heavy thoughts. Ji Gang still led Imperial Guards for protection along the way. Since the Crown Prince was in the group, Ji Gang brought a massive guard force of two thousand to ensure safety.
Before boarding the carriage, Hu Shanwei whispered a few words in Ji Gang’s ear. Ji Gang looked innocent: “I’m not a deity—how would I know her whereabouts, let alone bring her over?”
Hu Shanwei said: “We’ve been friends for so many years—don’t pretend with me. She knows so many secrets—Imperial Guards definitely have secret agents following her.”
Ji Gang acted deaf: “What did you say?”
Hu Shanwei: “She’s crucial to me. You must help with this favor.”
Ji Gang: “Not that—the first few words.”
Hu Shanwei: “We’ve been friends for so many years—”
“Stop.” Ji Gang was pleased with himself: “So you do consider me a friend. Good, I’ll help you.”
Early spring brought much rain and snow with slippery, muddy roads. Ten days later, the funeral procession reached Xuzhou Prefecture’s relay station to rest. Beyond Xuzhou lay Yanzhou.
Relay stations specifically received traveling officials—Great Ming’s civil service guesthouses. Crown Prince Zhu Biao was virtuous and benevolent. To avoid burdening people with expenses, he refused local officials’ receptions along the way, staying only in simple relay stations and firmly stopping accompanying officials from corruption. Thus his reputation was excellent both in official circles and among common people.
That night at Xuzhou relay station, just as the funeral procession settled in, an uninvited guest arrived outside.
This person was medium height, wearing a hat covering most of their face, dressed in bulky cotton clothes, carrying a wooden box on their back and holding a non-slip walking stick.
Imperial Guards had set up layers of barriers and guard posts outside. Wherever they went, areas were cleared for fear of accidents.
Imperial Guards stopped this person:
“Halt! Tonight the relay station receives no traveling officials. Register your name and position here—you can collect travel expenses to find an inn in the city.”
This was the Crown Prince’s instruction—compensation for officials, ensuring those serving the country didn’t sleep outdoors.
The person pulled out a name card from their chest and handed it over: “Give this to Bureau of Palace Attendants Official Hu—she’ll let me in.”
From the voice, it was a woman. Naming names specifically, she clearly knew the funeral group well and showed composure without servility.
However, Imperial Guards found her unfamiliar and didn’t know who this distinguished person was. While hesitating, Ji Gang came over for inspection, very surprised. When dismounting, he didn’t step steadily and fell, eating a mouthful of snow: “Oh, isn’t this Pharmacist Ru? What a coincidence—how did you come here?”
Wasn’t it you who sent urgent messages saying Hu Shanwei needed me and wanted me to “coincidentally encounter” at Xuzhou relay station?
Commander Ji, your acting is too exaggerated.
“These soldiers are new—they have eyes but can’t recognize Mount Tai.” Ji Gang personally opened the barriers, letting Pharmacist Ru enter while sternly teaching his subordinates: “Remember this—this is the formerly palace-famous Pharmacist Ru. Don’t be so blind in future.”
Originally, before departure, Hu Shanwei had asked Ji Gang’s help to send messages across thousands of miles, requesting Pharmacist Ru, who was compiling medical texts at Prince Zhou’s residence.
Prince Zhou’s residence was in Kaifeng, Henan. Prince Zhou Zhu Su was obsessed with medicine, financially powerful, gathering famous doctors from across the realm as honored guests, organizing them to compile medical texts. For nine years, Tan Fu and Pharmacist Ru had devoted themselves to medical careers at Prince Zhou’s residence and had a son.
Receiving Hu Shanwei’s long-distance letter, Pharmacist Ru immediately traveled south from Kaifeng Prefecture while Hu Shanwei went north—the two converged at Xuzhou.
Night traveler in wind and snow—thus Hu Shanwei, Pharmacist Ru, and Shen Qionglian, three female officials, met at Xuzhou relay station after nine years. Being in Prince Lu’s mourning period, drinking was inappropriate, so the three substituted tea for wine in reminiscing.
Pharmacist Ru asked Shen Qionglian: “I came to repay Hu Shanwei a favor—examining Prince Lu’s corpse and pills for suspicious points. Why are you wading into Yanzhou’s murky waters? Are you tired of living or tired of writing palace poetry?”
Shen Qionglian looked down at tea leaves gradually unfolding in hot water, revealing leaf veins: “Like Pharmacist Ru, also to repay a favor—Prince Lu’s kindness from years past.”
Even Hu Shanwei was surprised: “Haven’t you always disliked Prince Lu?”
Shen Qionglian lightly sipped tea: “His gaze was lewd—I still dislike him now. However, owed favors must be repaid. I don’t want future-life entanglements with him. Moreover, compared to many in the palace, Prince Lu was a good person.”
After thinking, she added: “A useless good person.”
Author’s note: Prince Lu: Already dead and still getting dissed, wuwuwuwu.