The Emperor’s verbal decree spread quickly throughout the palace.

Empress Xu had fallen gravely ill and could not receive visitors. She was to remain in her palace in seclusion to recuperate.

The affairs of the inner court were to be managed jointly by Noble Consort Li and Imperial Concubine Wei.

The concubines, maids, and attendants of the palace all understood perfectly well that there was something suspicious about Empress Xu’s “sudden illness.” However, since the Emperor had declared it to be so, naturally no one was sensible enough to press for a deeper investigation.

With Empress Xu having “fallen ill” and the Pepper Chamber barred to all visitors, those with quick minds had already begun making their way to the two respective chambers of the women now managing palace affairs.

Noble Consort Li was the birth mother of Prince An and was a few years older than Empress Xu. She had long since lost the Emperor’s favor, but by virtue of having borne an imperial son, she had quietly secured a stable place within the palace.

There was even less to be said about Imperial Concubine Wei. Her position was not especially high in rank, but she had always been deeply cherished by the Emperor. She had also given birth to Princess An’ya, which placed her head and shoulders above the other concubines in the inner court.

The Emperor had decreed that Noble Consort Li and Imperial Concubine Wei manage the palace affairs jointly. On the surface, Noble Consort Li was the primary figure and Imperial Concubine Wei the secondary. Yet between an aging woman who had lost the Emperor’s favor and a young beauty in the full bloom of her years, everyone knew whose lead to follow.

And so the Lingbo Palace soon became quite lively.

Even Beauty Wang, who had always made a point of competing with and vying against Imperial Concubine Wei, now wore an ingratiating and fawning expression, visiting the Lingbo Palace daily to curry favor with Imperial Concubine Wei.

Imperial Concubine Wei was by nature fond of quiet and disliked going out or joining the other concubines for idle chatter and socializing. Now she was being pushed into doing exactly that against her will and found little joy in it whatsoever.

On the surface, of course, she had to show a polite, appropriate, and warm smile.

“Who knows how long the Empress will be confined to her palace recuperating from this illness,” Beauty Wang said with an air of friendly familiarity. “The inner court has so many affairs to manage. It is most fitting that Elder Sister Wei be the one to oversee them.”

The other concubines immediately nodded in agreement. “Indeed, younger sister Wei has such a gentle nature and is so thorough and careful in all she does. She is perfectly suited for this.”

“We shall all be counting on Younger Sister Wei to look after us from now on.”

Imperial Concubine Wei made herself smile pleasantly in response. “Please do not say that, sisters. I am young and inexperienced. Whenever something important arises, I shall still need to seek guidance from Noble Consort Li.”

After this round of pleasantries that neither side truly meant, the concubines took their leave one by one.

After seeing everyone out, Imperial Concubine Wei could not help but let out a long sigh.

Princess An’ya noticed the furrow between Imperial Concubine Wei’s brows and could not help but smile. “Something others would envy, yet it falls to Mother Consort and she looks not the least bit pleased. She only sighs and laments.”

Imperial Concubine Wei smiled bitterly and said quietly, “An’ya, you are not so young anymore — you ought to understand the saying that a tall tree catches the wind. We two, mother and daughter, were living comfortably and at ease here in the Lingbo Palace. Now we have been placed over a fire to roast. And this is only the beginning. Who knows how many troubles will follow.”

Princess An’ya smiled and tried to comfort her. “Mother Consort need not worry too much. Things are as they are, and fretting over it is no use. Better to think about how to get through it. Once the Empress’s illness is cured, Mother Consort can rest easy again.”

Would Empress Xu’s “illness” ever truly be cured?

Who knew how many storms this inner court was yet to endure.

Imperial Concubine Wei tugged at the corners of her lips but had no wish to speak of such unpleasant matters in front of Princess An’ya and quickly changed the subject.

The news of Empress Xu’s sudden illness flew swiftly to the various residences outside the palace.

No one was a fool. A moment’s thought made the irregularities plain to see.

Empress Xu had fallen ill — why, then, was she confined to her palace in seclusion? Half the maids and attendants of the Pepper Chamber had vanished — for what reason?

The female officials had been thrown into the imperial prison, and the rest had all been sent to do the heaviest and most grueling work in the palace, stripped of every trace of their former standing. The Pepper Chamber had been staffed entirely with new faces inside and out, with imperial guards taking turns on watch.

With so many irregularities, did anyone truly take the rest of the world for fools?

And yet the Emperor had declared it so.

No one was foolish enough to press for more. The affairs of the palace were all the Emperor’s family matters. Whoever the Emperor wished to deal with — who dared say a word?

Had anyone not noticed that Prince Yan had become remarkably low-key and restrained of late? He spent his days inside the Prince Yan’s Residence, barely leaving at all, even canceling banquets.

As for Princess Changping — she was busy absorbed in her own privately woven daydream, occupied in secret, and had not yet noticed anything amiss in the palace.

Before long, word arrived that the Prince Consort had met with an “accidental fall from his horse,” dying on the spot. Princess Changping felt secretly elated.

She had to put on a show of grief and sorrow on the surface, weeping as she made her way to the Xu family residence.

What she had not expected was that the Prince Consort’s body was simply laid out in a coffin, with no funeral preparations made whatsoever.

The Xu family, who were normally soft and accommodating and never made trouble, this time displayed a markedly different severity. Every single one of them looked coldly upon Princess Changping.

Princess Changping began to sense that something was wrong. Yet she believed she had arranged everything in such secrecy that it was impossible for any trace to have leaked. Her manner remained as imperious as ever. “Since the Prince Consort has died in an accident, you should have sent word to the palace at once and arranged for his burial. What is the meaning of leaving him lying in the coffin like this?”

The Prince Consort’s own father — the Xu family patriarch, Duke Xu, who was also Empress Xu’s elder brother — wore a dark and sunken expression, and squeezed out a few words from between his teeth. “A man who dies in such a manner will find no peace even when buried.”

Princess Changping had a guilty conscience to begin with. Hearing these words, her complexion changed at once. “What does the Duke mean by saying this? Did the Prince Consort not die after an accidental fall from a horse? Can it be that there is something else to this?”

Duke Xu glared at her with fury, grinding his teeth as he spoke. “Exactly how my son Jian died — Your Highness the Princess ought to know better than anyone.”

Princess Changping’s heart plummeted. She suddenly panicked.

Duke Xu was saying this — could it mean he already suspected her?

No. That was impossible.

She had done this so secretly. The Xu family could not possibly have discovered anything.

Princess Changping’s expression shifted several times before she composed herself again. “The Duke grieves for the Prince Consort. And how could I, for my part, not grieve as well? Yet the dead cannot return to life. I ask the Duke to take care of himself in his sorrow.”

Duke Xu watched Princess Changping’s pretentious display of false grief and felt such rage that it nearly burst from his chest.

Xu Jian, however mediocre and incompetent, was his own son of legitimate birth.

Princess Changping had shown no fondness for Xu Jian and had lived alone in the Princess’s residence, keeping male favorites and living without restraint. The Xu family had been furious but had not dared say a word, swallowing their humiliation in silence and becoming the laughingstock of the entire capital.

They had never imagined that Princess Changping would still not be satisfied with that, and had gone so far as to think of murdering Xu Jian.

Recalling the evidence the Crown Grandson had secretly sent, and looking now at Princess Changping’s tough front covering her inner weakness, Duke Xu could no longer endure it. He said coldly, “Jian was secretly schemed against and killed. Even if I, as his father, am useless, I cannot pretend to be deaf and blind and ask nothing. I will go to the palace at once and beg the Emperor to uphold justice for the Xu family.”

Princess Changping finally went pale with shock.