This was the harem.

Within these high walls that enclosed them on every side, the women here dreamed the same dream day after day — dreaming that His Majesty would favor them alone, and that they would soar to the heights, no longer even sparing a glance for the Empress.

And day after day, they woke from that dream, suffering yet forced to clearly accept everything before their eyes.

There was no such thing as exclusive favor, no soaring to the heights. The Empress… remained someone they had to bow and step aside for the moment they saw her, someone before whom they dared not even breathe too heavily.

Life was utterly hopeless, yet it had to be lived on in that hopelessness all the same.

The harem looked resplendent and radiant, full of smiles and laughter — but that was only because one could not see the disappointment, the sorrow, even the desolation, that lay behind each and every person.

The arrival of the Ninth Prince and Empress Dowager Ning left the maids in Consort Jing’s courtyard stunned for quite some time.

After that, Consort Jing’s courtyard seemed to grow lively — those coming to offer condolences, to mourn, to see her off — their numbers quickly grew.

That was simply how people were.

But none of this had anything to do with Zhan Luori. He simply knelt beside Consort Jing’s body the whole time, neither eating nor drinking, neither speaking nor uttering a sound.

Not until the funeral procession did he watch with his own eyes as his mother consort was carried away, to be buried in the most remote corner of the imperial mausoleum.

Because she had no imperial son, because she had made no special contribution, Consort Jing’s memorial tablet could not even enter the imperial ancestral temple, and could only be placed in a small shrine off to the side.

Zhan Luori made no fuss, nor did he show any intention of appealing to Emperor Qiwen.

In truth, his mother consort had spent her entire life in quiet solitude. She had never liked bustle and noise — all she had ever wanted was a measure of peace.

The small shrine had its own merits — many women who had spent their whole lives in the imperial household, unknown and unremembered, resided here. This place might, after all, still offer a patch of clean, peaceful ground.

As for the ancestral temple, there were far too many ghosts there still fighting over power and position — if his mother consort went there, she would surely be bullied.

From the time of Consort Jing’s death until the funeral concluded, Emperor Qiwen, citing poor health, sent only the Chief Eunuch to offer condolences and deliver no small number of gifts — he himself never once showed his face.

The heartlessness of the imperial family was plain to see in this alone.

Later, Nanmeng Rong woke up, and Nanmeng Ye arrived, throwing the palace into chaos. Zhan Qingcheng had Zhan Luori stay temporarily at the Ninth Prince’s residence, and he raised no objection at all.

Or rather, Zhan Luori had not spoken a single word from start to finish, nor had a single expression ever crossed his face.

This was the third day, and he still neither ate nor drank — not even a single drop of water had passed his lips.

Even when the Ninth Imperial Uncle, the person he respected most, came to see him, he simply sat on the bed in silence, showing no reaction at all.

Zhan Qingcheng had a fierce temper, but faced with Zhan Luori in this state, even he found himself at a complete loss.

“Maybe a good beating would set him right.” On the night of the third day, when the food was once again brought back untouched, Zhan Qingcheng was starting to lose patience.

The moment Empress Dowager Ning heard this, she panicked immediately: “A’Jiu, you mustn’t! Ri’er is in such a state already — if you provoke him further, what if he does something drastic…”

A good beating — of course Zhan Qingcheng had only said it in passing. Seeing Zhan Luori like this, how could he ever bring himself to do it?

Never before had Zhan Luori seemed so fragile as he did in this moment. Though he was usually quite close to Zhan Qingcheng, the person he had always been closest to was, in the end, his mother consort.

His mother consort was the only person Zhan Luori had ever been able to rely on in his life — not a reliance for daily living, but a reliance of the soul.

He and his mother consort had depended on each other for survival for so many years. Although Consort Jing had always been strict with him, he truly loved her deeply.

Now, his mother consort, who had been perfectly fine, was suddenly gone — just like that. From now on, all alone with no one left, how was he supposed to go on living?

“Let me go try to talk him round again.” Feng Jiu’er took the tray of food from the guard’s hands.

She turned back to look at the Ninth Imperial Uncle, helpless as well: “Have someone prepare a bit more food tonight — I may need it again at any time. Your Highness the Empress Dowager, Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’ll go on ahead.”

Once she had received their consent, Feng Jiu’er carried the tray of food out of the side hall, turned through the archway of the long corridor, and knocked on Zhan Luori’s door.

There was not the slightest sound from within. She had no intention of waiting for a response either — she simply knocked twice, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Zhan Luori still sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, staring at some indeterminate corner, his eyes utterly listless.

“Will you eat?” Jiu’er set the food down on the table and turned to look at him.

This was not the first time she had come to see him. Over the past two days, she had come by many times each day, but he remained just as before, paying no attention to anyone at all.

If he wouldn’t even pay attention to the Ninth Imperial Uncle, how could he possibly pay attention to her — someone he had known for barely a month?

But today was already the third day; counting the day Consort Jing had passed away, tonight was the fourth night.

Three and a half days now, and he had not even taken a single sip of water. Was he truly going to torment himself to death like this?

The Empress Dowager had said countless words of reason trying to persuade him — that his mother consort wouldn’t want to see him like this, that if he kept on like this, his mother consort would never rest in peace in the netherworld.

Such words had already been said far too many times by others, and none of it had been of any use at all.

Feng Jiu’er sat down in a chair and looked at him for a good while, then suddenly said: “Do you want to know what your mother consort said to me before she passed?”

A flicker of something unusual rose in Zhan Luori’s eyes, but it quickly settled back into stillness.

But this time, at least, he was willing to speak: “If my mother consort didn’t want me to know, then I won’t ask.”

“Actually, it’s not that she didn’t want you to know, it’s just…”

“Just what?” His brow twitched slightly.

“Come eat first, and then I’ll tell you.” Feng Jiu’er pushed the bowl and chopsticks in front of her toward him.

A trace of disgust crept into Zhan Luori’s eyes — he had not expected that this woman would actually try to trick him like this!

“I’m not tricking you. But if you starve yourself to death, telling you your mother consort’s words won’t do any good anyway, will it?”

He still showed no reaction. Feng Jiu’er seemed to grow a bit impatient, and she stood up: “Fine then, if you really don’t want to know, forget it — I’ll be going.”

She turned to leave, but Zhan Luori grew somewhat anxious.

What his mother consort had said — he wanted to know. He desperately wanted to know.

Before, he had not dared ask, fearing it would displease his mother consort in the netherworld. But with Feng Jiu’er tempting him like this, he truly could not hold back any longer.

Everything concerning his mother consort — he wanted to know all of it!

“Come on then, once you’ve finished eating, I’ll tell you.” Feng Jiu’er sat back down at the table. “Behave a little, and things will go easier for everyone.”

Zhan Luori’s large hand clenched tighter and tighter. No one knew how much time passed before he finally got off the bed, walked over to the table, sat down, and began eating in large mouthfuls.

Watching this person before her — unkempt for days, looking neither fully man nor woman — Jiu’er suddenly felt a pang of heartache.

As Zhan Luori finished forcing down the food and looked at her with eager, expectant eyes, Feng Jiu’er took a deep breath and finally said: “Promise me you’ll listen to me from now on, and I’ll tell you what your mother consort’s dying wish was.”