Shen Zhuxi was to be married off.
The dragon-and-phoenix bridal veil, gleaming with golden light, lay to her left. The nanny reciting the dowry list stood to her right, and having been at it for most of the day, her voice was even colder than usual.
The twelve palace maids in the hall listened more attentively than Shen Zhuxi herself. The names of each priceless item pressed down upon the air of the hall, making it heavier and more suffocating with every passing moment.
A princess’s marriage was no ordinary affair to begin with. And this was Shen Zhuxi, betrothed to Fu Xuanmiao, the only son of the Chancellor who held absolute power over the court. Where other princesses had their dowry lists read out in a single hour, Shen Zhuxi’s took two full hours to finish.
“This servant has finished reading the Sixth Princess’s dowry list. Does the Princess have any instructions?” The nanny’s expressionless, aged face dipped low in a bow.
“…It’s all fine.” Shen Zhuxi forced a smile.
The old nanny folded both hands before her and offered a careful, measured bow.
“Then this servant shall go and report to His Majesty.” The old nanny swept a sharp gaze over the palace maids around Shen Zhuxi. “You — be nimble about it. Mind you don’t miss the hour for leaving the palace.”
The palace maids answered in unison.
The old nanny lowered her head, concealing her keen eyes, and retreated from the hall in soundless steps, just as she had come.
The moment the old nanny was gone, Shen Zhuxi’s personal palace maid, Yu Sha, came forward. She stood behind Shen Zhuxi and meticulously checked that every hairpiece was in its proper place.
When Shen Zhuxi was young, her mother consort had been convicted of crimes, and her imperial father paid her no mind. The few servants who were close to her had all come to bad ends, and without her noticing, she had earned the name “Star of Ill Omen.” Great as the imperial palace was, there was not a soul willing to speak with her. Over all these years, the palace servants who attended her never stayed long — only Yu Sha had come and never left.
Yu Sha’s every movement was a reminder that the moment of the grand wedding was drawing near. The more clearly she recognized this, the more breathless she felt.
“I want some water,” Shen Zhuxi said.
“Princess, please bear with it a little longer.” Yu Sha said quietly but without room for argument: “If you need to relieve yourself on the way, that will be most troublesome.”
She had better not have mentioned it — because now that she had, Shen Zhuxi’s bottom shifted restlessly on the velvet embroidered stool.
“…I want to relieve myself right now.”
“Princess, bear with it.” Yu Sha’s voice grew stern. “Nanny Zhang will be here shortly. Today is your wedding day — there must be no mishaps.”
“But I can’t hold on any longer.”
“Think about the wedding. Think about… think about the Prince Consort.”
Thinking of the Prince Consort, Shen Zhuxi felt even more like she was sitting on a bed of needles, though Yu Sha remained entirely oblivious and continued speaking.
“To have been matched by His Majesty to a man of such rare brilliance as the Prince Consort — all the other princesses envy your good fortune. The Prince Consort is celebrated far and wide, a man of both talent and virtue, and most importantly, his heart belongs to you alone.” Yu Sha murmured: “The Princess surely does not know how many women under heaven envy you…”
Shen Zhuxi opened her mouth, then stopped. Yu Sha noticed her hesitation and said to the palace attendants inside the chamber: “All of you, step outside.”
Yu Sha was Shen Zhuxi’s head palace maid, and at her word, the attendants nearby answered one by one and withdrew from the hall in a bow.
Once the others had gone, Yu Sha leaned down beside Shen Zhuxi and said softly: “On this joyous day, why does the Princess look so downcast?”
Yu Sha was a palace maid who kept strictly to her station. To directly ask after her innermost thoughts like this was the first time in many years. A wave of warmth rose in Shen Zhuxi’s heart, and she felt an urgent desire to pour out the hesitation and timidity within her.
The days of chasing butterflies through the garden, of composing poetry and painting — it all felt as though it had happened only yesterday. Yet today she was to leave this palace that had given birth to her and raised her for sixteen years, to be married off to a man she did not truly know, to bear his children, to be wife and mother, to transform from a girl who knew nothing of the world into a woman who managed all within and without the household.
No one had taught her how to bridge that chasm between who she was and who she must become.
“I… am a little afraid,” she said.
“Master Fu is supremely talented and possessed of a noble and distinguished bearing. Moreover, his feelings for the Princess — could not be better.” Yu Sha asked: “Why is the Princess afraid?”
“Does he treat me well?” Shen Zhuxi’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Of course he does.” Yu Sha said: “Ever since Noble Consort Gui was confined to Wangshu Palace by His Majesty six years ago, everyone in the palace has kept their distance from the Princess for fear of bringing trouble upon themselves. Had the Prince Consort not interceded with Her Majesty the Empress on the Princess’s behalf, how could the Princess have kept herself safe? And how could the wedding agreement have been preserved to this day?”
In the eyes of the world, Fu Xuanmiao’s conduct toward her was beyond reproach — and even Shen Zhuxi herself could find no fault in him. He was the only son of the Chancellor who commanded absolute power in the court, and the Empress’s nephew besides. He was of noble birth and full of learning. He could have been matched to any princess he chose, yet he held steadfast to his betrothal with her — steadfast to a princess whose mother consort had long since fallen from favor.
In the eyes of the world, she ought to be weeping tears of gratitude, remaining devoted to him without wavering. Any hesitation or resistance on her part was nothing short of ingratitude and insolence. The courage Shen Zhuxi had just summoned retreated under Yu Sha’s reproachful gaze.
Was she truly being ungrateful?
She had known Fu Xuanmiao for over ten years — this was no blind marriage made between strangers — yet she had never truly understood him.
In her presence, he never spoke of himself, never spoke of the people and things around him. Everything he said concerned things they both could see together. Of Fu Xuanmiao beyond the range of her own eyes, she knew nothing at all — yet he was present everywhere in her life. If the Eighth Princess had flaunted a night-luminescent pearl the size of a swan’s egg before her one day, the next day a pearl the size of an adult man’s fist would arrive at her door; if she had read the line “On a swift horse the consort laughed amid the red dust” that day, the very next morning a plate of lychees still glistening with morning dew would appear before her; if she went several days without playing the ancient zither, before long a rare and unique score would be sent into the palace.
The gowns she wore, the hairpieces she adorned herself with, the ancient zither she learned to play, the books she read — all were prepared by palace attendants according to Fu Xuanmiao’s preferences.
Everyone said Fu Xuanmiao treated her well — that he sheltered her from the wind and rain, that he arranged everything properly, that she need not manage anything, need not know anything, that she only had to trust him wholeheartedly and rely on him, and she would become the woman whom all other women envied.
But her mother consort had once been in perfect harmony with her imperial father. Her imperial father had once said her mother was the love of his life. Her mother consort trusted him wholeheartedly and relied on him until this very day — and what had it brought her in return?
The very imperial father who had been all smiles and laughter with her mother consort one day could, with a single imperial edict, confine her to Wangshu Palace the next — and leave her there, unheeded, for six years.
Her mother consort spent her days in Wangshu Palace talking to herself, half-mad with grief, while new imperial sons were born one after another.
She feared Fu Xuanmiao because she knew too little. She feared marriage because she knew too much. She feared solemn vows, and feared even more the ruin left behind when solemn vows were shattered.
Shen Zhuxi felt a suffocating heaviness in her chest. Many words had lodged themselves in her throat, yet not a single one could make its way out. She stared blankly at the bride gazing back at her from the mirror, fingers pulling absently at the hem of her robe.
Seeing her silence, Yu Sha’s expression softened.
“It is only natural for the Princess to feel nervous on such an important day. The Princess need only set her mind at ease — the Prince Consort knows the Princess’s refined way of life, and every flower and stone, every tree and brook in the household has been personally arranged by the Prince Consort. The paintings, calligraphy, and curios there are, if anything, more plentiful than in the palace. Even the servants are veterans who once served in the palace, and they have already memorized the Princess’s habits in advance. After the wedding, the Princess will find nothing unfamiliar.” Yu Sha comforted her: “Today, the Princess need only walk a few steps, take her seat in the ceremonial carriage, and after that, the Prince Consort will be there to guide her.”
“I want to relieve myself…” Shen Zhuxi said uneasily.
Just as Yu Sha was about to speak, another old nanny walked in.
Yu Sha exhaled in relief and said: “Nanny Zhang.”
Nanny Zhang was different from the nanny who had just left — her face had fewer wrinkles, but far more smiles. Nanny Zhang looked at Shen Zhuxi with a beaming expression, looking far more like a joyful, expectant bride than Shen Zhuxi herself.
“Sixth Princess — the picture books this servant gave you a few days ago, has the Princess had a look at them?”
Shen Zhuxi dreaded the wedding, and dreaded even more the unknown of the wedding night. The picture books had long since been tossed to some forgotten corner. Now that the nanny brought them up, she panicked inwardly and blurted out instinctively: “I have.”
“Good.” Nanny Zhang nodded with satisfaction: “The union of husband and wife is the harmony of yin and yang — it is entirely natural and proper. The Princess need only remember that on the wedding night…”
Before Nanny Zhang could finish her words, the sound of frantic running suddenly erupted outside the hall.
“Go and see who is making such a commotion in the forbidden palace,” Yu Sha said, her expression darkening.
Before Yu Sha had even finished speaking, the inner attendant who had been posted outside to guard the doors came stumbling in. Before Yu Sha could reprimand him, the attendant threw himself to the ground. He raised his head toward where Shen Zhuxi sat, his face utterly drained of color and painted with terror.
“We’re done for! Re-rebel troops… the rebel troops have broken in!”
“That’s impossible!” Yu Sha’s face turned white: “The court received a military report just five days ago — the rebel troops were still in Jinzhou. How could they possibly appear in the capital today?”
“It — it is true… the rebel troops have broken in!” The attendant stumbled through his words: “Everyone in the palace has scattered and fled for their lives. When this servant came in, there was not a single person to be seen — the Princess must escape quickly too!”
Yu Sha did not believe it. She strode out quickly through the inner chamber. Shen Zhuxi rose from the embroidered stool and watched as the color drained from Yu Sha’s face at the door — there was no need for further words.
“Princess, come with me quickly!” Yu Sha rushed back into the hall, snatched up the dragon-and-phoenix bridal veil from the sandalwood tray, wrapped it around a palm-sized jade case, turned, seized Shen Zhuxi’s arm, and ran.
Shen Zhuxi stumbled as she was pulled along, and followed her out of the inner chamber in a daze, bolting through the great doors.
The attendant had not been wrong. The rebel troops had broken in.
The moment they left the inner chamber, every sound that had been shut out beyond the jade-inlaid corridors and the bright flower beds instantly became clear — the sounds of the rebel troops killing and fighting, the whoosh of arrows cleaving through the air, the crying and screaming of palace attendants, and one other sound, faint but impossible to ignore: crackle, crackle.
The vast sky had been dyed red, but it was not the glow of sunset — it was the work of raging fire.
Shen Zhuxi was still standing there in a daze when Yu Sha grabbed her by the arm with great force.
“Run!”
Shen Zhuxi had just taken two steps when her senses returned to her. She pulled free of Yu Sha’s hand and turned to run in another direction.
“Princess!” Yu Sha’s frantic voice rang out behind her.
Shen Zhuxi had no time to look back: “Mother Consort… Mother Consort is still in Wangshu Palace!”
Shen Zhuxi had never run so fast inside the forbidden palace — at least, not in any memory she had.
Hot wind carrying the acrid smell of burning swept past her ears. She was running so fast that the pearl hairpins and phoenix ornaments on her head fell one after another, but she had no time to care. Her heart beat with a wrenching ache in her chest, yet she dared not stop.
Palace servants were fleeing in all directions. Who would give a second thought to her half-mad mother consort? Her imperial father had long since put her mother consort out of his mind. Only she — only she — would risk her life running to save someone at a time like this.
The end of the palace walkway was already in sight. Shen Zhuxi was about to press forward when her arm was suddenly seized, and her body lurched involuntarily to one side.
Yu Sha gripped her arm and pulled her into Shu Fei’s Yuqing Palace.
“This way! Going out through the back gate is closer!”
Shen Zhuxi had no time to deliberate and followed Yu Sha in a headlong run.
Yuqing Palace had already been ransacked by the rebel forces. Palace servants who had died with their eyes still open were everywhere to be seen. In the flower garden of Yuqing Palace, where spring blossoms bloomed in full splendor, Shen Zhuxi caught sight of Shu Fei — the very woman she had seen only the day before.
At that time, Shu Fei had been insufferably arrogant, her words dripping with mockery that even though Shen Zhuxi’s wedding was imminent, she still had not been granted an audience with the Emperor. Now, Shu Fei lay at the edge of the pond, eyes wide open, clothes in disarray, her loosened black hair half submerged in the water as red and white koi fish drifted in and out of sight, nibbling at the floating strands.
Shen Zhuxi’s legs went weak beneath her. She forced herself not to look and stumbled forward.
The carved pebble path underfoot had been stained with blood, the eyes and petals carved into the stones turned vivid red. A glaring trail of drag marks stretched out ahead, and at its end lay Shu Fei’s personal palace maid, still faintly moving, her chest riddled with several gaping wounds.
Shen Zhuxi felt ice in every inch of her body. She dared not stop, dared not look.
Yu Sha had worked in the palace for many years and was far more familiar with its hidden pathways than this princess. The two of them wove through corridors and side paths without pause, stepping over countless bodies, evading many rebel soldiers who were shouting and bellowing. After roughly the time it took half an incense stick to burn, they finally caught sight of the towering roofline of Wangshu Palace.
“Zhuxi, do you know why your imperial father named this place Wangshu Palace?”
“I know, I know — because I’m a little rabbit, and Mother Consort is the Lady Chang’e who descended from the heavens!”
“Zhuxi is right. This Wangshu Palace is the place where your father hides his Chang’e and his little rabbit. You and your Mother Consort are your father’s moon. When your father pushes open the window in Zichen Hall, he can see Wangshu Palace — he can see his two moons.”
The tip of Shen Zhuxi’s nose stung. She chased away the memory that had intruded without warning and quickened her pace toward Wangshu Palace.
The palace servants who had once kept such strict watch at the palace gates had all vanished. Shen Zhuxi rounded the glazed spirit wall and nearly collided with an inner attendant clutching a bundle full of things. He caught sight of Shen Zhuxi in her red bridal gown, and fear sent his legs buckling beneath him — he dropped to his knees with a thud.
The contents of the cloth bundle spilled out in all directions. The green was a jadite openwork carved phoenix pendant; the gold was a ganam wood inlaid gold bracelet; the blue was a kingfisher-feather begonia-patterned hairpiece; and many other things she had seen and not seen came tumbling out alongside them. Caught red-handed with stolen goods, the attendant’s face was white as paper.
Shen Zhuxi had no mind to punish him and said urgently: “Where is the Noble Consort?”
“The Noble Consort…” The attendant’s expression was strange, his words hesitant and evasive. The ten fingers hanging beside his knees stealthily swept the scattered gold and silver ornaments on the ground under his knees. “The Noble Consort is… inside.”
Shen Zhuxi immediately ran toward the interior of the hall. She had barely passed through the front hall doors when a pair of embroidered shoes dangling in midair rushed into her sight. Shen Zhuxi felt as though she had been struck by lightning and threw herself forward without another thought.
“Mother Consort! Mother Consort!”
Tears poured from her eyes. She threw her arms around her mother consort’s legs and pushed upward with all her might.
Yu Sha entered the hall at that moment. Taking in the sight before her, she immediately rushed over to hold the Noble Consort’s other side. The two of them worked together and at last lowered the woman who had been suspended in midair. Shen Zhuxi threw herself over her mother consort, and tears fell one after another.
“Mother Consort…”
The last time Shen Zhuxi had seen her was four years ago. She had managed with great difficulty to be granted the grace to come to Wangshu Palace and see her, yet her mother consort had not recognized her — she had scattered her hair and hurled tea cups and scented pouches at her, driving her away. Four years later, this was how they were reunited. The color was entirely gone from her face, even her lips had turned white and faintly blue. But more shocking still was the livid purple strangling mark around her neck after the white silk had been removed.
“Mother Consort, Mother Consort… wake up…” Shen Zhuxi shook her mother consort by the shoulders and cried out.
Her mother consort’s body was already cold, her fingers stiff. Shen Zhuxi refused to give up and reached to feel for breath at her nose, but the result was beyond words.
The dread of the wedding had become something not worth mentioning. Shen Zhuxi collapsed over her mother consort’s body that had lost all warmth, weeping until she could not draw breath. Only the night before, she had been hoping that after the wedding, her imperial father might, in consideration of the Fu family, lift her mother consort’s confinement. Now, all of it had turned to nothing.
On her wedding day, the imperial palace had fallen, her mother consort was dead, her imperial father was nowhere to be found, the red of the wedding had become the red of blood, and everything had been turned upside down.
As Shen Zhuxi wept without ceasing, Yu Sha was outside the hall engaged in a heated argument with the attendant who had been caught stealing earlier:
“What happened in Wangshu Palace? Why did the Noble Consort hang herself?”
“The Noble Consort’s hanging has nothing to do with me! When the Noble Consort heard that His Majesty had left taking only the Crown Prince with him, she didn’t say a word and went back into her bedchamber. By the time we found her, her body was already cold — let go of me!”
Yu Sha called out, seemingly shoved aside by the attendant. After a brief flurry of hurried footsteps, only Yu Sha returned into the hall.
She had barely begun to speak when a horrible shriek came from outside, followed by the jingling crash of the attendant’s bundle of gold and silver jewels hitting the ground once more.
A cruel and brutal voice rang out: “This eunuch has stolen quite a bit — all of you, get in there and look. Is there anything else worth taking?”
Yu Sha immediately clamped her hand over Shen Zhuxi’s mouth and dragged her toward the back courtyard to flee. Shen Zhuxi still had her hand clenched around her mother consort’s now ice-cold fingers, and as she was dragged forward, the Noble Consort was dragged along with her.
Yu Sha turned back and, with her other hand, pried forcefully at the fingers gripping the Noble Consort’s hand. Shen Zhuxi wept as she clutched her mother consort’s hand, unwilling to let go, but Yu Sha’s strength was too great — she dug into the web of Shen Zhuxi’s hand until it broke the skin, forced her five fingers apart, and pulled her toward the back courtyard without a word.
Yu Sha gripped her hand and ran, the two of them stumbling again and again. From behind came the sounds of rebel soldiers entering the hall and ransacking it. Shen Zhuxi forced herself not to look back.
After fleeing through the rear gate of Wangshu Palace, the two of them encountered a small squad of imperial guards that had been routed. Yu Sha told her to stay behind a stone lion and ran over to speak with the guards herself.
After a while, Yu Sha came back quickly.
“…Where is Imperial Father?” Shen Zhuxi asked in a hoarse voice.
Yu Sha’s expression became troubled: “The four gates of the palace are surrounded. His Majesty divided the imperial guards into two groups, each to make a breakout — one to escort His Majesty, one to escort the Crown Prince. Both groups have already departed. Whether either can break through, only heaven knows. Princess, all we can do is trust heaven to escape the palace.”
The last trace of warmth in Shen Zhuxi’s chest slipped away.
Her mother consort had chosen her imperial father, her imperial father had chosen the Crown Prince, and she — alone, with nowhere to flee?
Yu Sha saw the fear in her eyes, and the panic in her own gaze settled into a steadiness instead.
“Princess, rest assured — I have a way out of the palace,” she said.
Shen Zhuxi had no wish to drag Yu Sha into ruin. She wiped her tears roughly and gave a firm nod.
“I’ll go with you.”
Yu Sha led her through twists and turns, carefully avoiding the rebel forces burning, killing, and looting, until after great difficulty they arrived at Qingtai Terrace, situated at the southeastern corner of the palace. This was the place where the Emperor observed the stars at night. There was no gold or silver, no beautiful women — compared to every other place in the palace covered in flame and blood, Qingtai Terrace was like a haven of tranquility in a world of chaos, serene beyond belief.
Clear water babbled along the channel below Qingtai Terrace, and a cool breeze carrying moisture swept through. Shen Zhuxi could not help but shiver. She looked to Yu Sha at her side, unable to fathom how they were to leave the palace from here.
Yu Sha did not pause for a single moment. She pulled her inside the Sun-and-Moon Pavilion behind Qingtai Terrace. There, she and Shen Zhuxi exchanged their garments. Shen Zhuxi did not understand why, but under Yu Sha’s urging she changed in a daze into a palace maid’s attire.
Once Yu Sha had put on the red wedding dress, she walked around the pavilion, then with great effort moved out a nanmu bookcase. Shen Zhuxi had long since lost any thought of propriety and quickly went forward to help.
The two of them took all the books out of the bookcase in one go, then carried the empty case out of the Sun-and-Moon Pavilion and set it down beside the channel at the base of Qingtai Terrace.
Yu Sha said: “The hidden river beneath Qingtai Terrace leads out of the city. If the Princess sits inside the bookcase and drifts along the hidden river, it will carry you out of the capital.”
“What about you?” Shen Zhuxi asked urgently.
“Don’t worry — this servant will go with the Princess.”
Yu Sha pushed the bookcase into the channel. Gripping the edge of the case, she had Shen Zhuxi step in first and sit down, then handed her the wooden box wrapped in the bridal veil and told her to hold onto it carefully.
The space inside the bookcase was very small, barely enough for Shen Zhuxi to sit with her knees drawn up, yet she still tried to squeeze herself as small as she could, straining to make room for one more person.
At that moment, the light above her head suddenly went dark.
Yu Sha closed the door of the bookcase. Before Shen Zhuxi had even gathered her wits, she heard the sound of the lock being fastened from outside.
“Yu Sha? What are you doing?” Shen Zhuxi panicked.
“Princess, listen carefully to what I say.”
Shen Zhuxi froze.
The deference that had always been in Yu Sha’s voice had stripped away, leaving something far colder and far more composed — twice as unfamiliar. This calm, measured voice was nothing like what a palace maid should produce.
From outside the bookcase, she said with composure: “When you leave the palace, find a way to go to the Prince Consort. What is inside the box is for you to prove your identity. If the rebellion is put down, take it to the nearest yamen… If it is not, keep it safe and do not let anyone know your identity. Sixth Princess — once you pass through this palace gate, you must remember: aside from Master Fu, trust no one.”
“What about you?”
“The bookcase cannot bear that much weight.” Yu Sha said: “The road ahead — only the Princess can walk it alone.”
“Yu Sha!” Shen Zhuxi pushed at the cabinet doors with all her might. The golden lock outside clicked and rattled, the cabinet doors shuddered, and the thread of light leaking in through the door gaps shuddered with them. Tears blurred Shen Zhuxi’s vision, and she begged in a voice thick with weeping: “Yu Sha, come with me, let’s go together… what if it works? If you don’t try, how do you know it won’t? Yu Sha, Yu Sha… don’t leave me alone…”
That thread of light above flickered — Yu Sha had crouched down outside the bookcase. Shen Zhuxi saw her hand press over the gap between the doors, just at the spot where the light had been falling across her eyes.
Yu Sha said: “Princess… this servant has kept something from you all this time. Even now, at this moment, I cannot tell you. Perhaps today’s end is heaven’s punishment for me.”
Shen Zhuxi cried out through her tears: “Open the door!”
“You must not let the Prince Consort down… Princess, this is for your own good.”
“Yu Sha, open the door — let me out!”
The sounds outside the bookcase went silent, and at the same moment, Shen Zhuxi felt a lurch beneath her as the bookcase entered the water completely. From somewhere far behind came the sound of rebel soldiers bellowing roughly: “Found Princess of Yue! She’s over there!”
“Yu Sha!” she cried out through the cabinet doors.
The last thread of light leaking through the gap vanished. The bookcase plunged into the hidden river, and the rushing sound of water swallowed the chaotic footsteps and shouts from behind. Shen Zhuxi curled herself into the pitch-black bookcase, biting down hard on her fist, forcing her sobs back down her throat. Tears burned against her cheeks; the wounded web of her hand, dampened by those tears, sent a sharp sting through her — but compared to the grief in her heart, it was hardly worth noticing.
She did not know how much time had passed. When the tears had finally run dry, she groped through the darkness, opened the wooden box wrapped in the bridal veil, and gripped the heavy phoenix tablet.
The hidden river rushed swift and fierce. Damp air filled the bookcase, and water droplets seeping through the door gap soaked Shen Zhuxi’s embroidered shoes. All she could do was make herself as small as possible, cross her arms over her shoulders, and softly pat herself the way her mother consort used to do.
“Don’t be afraid…”
In the darkness, her voice was faint as a dying breath.
The bookcase swayed and drifted, heading toward an unknown beyond.