Prince Yan's Mansion had become a thing of the past. The wives and concubines of the mansion gradually entered the palace, becoming the new emperor's consorts. The princess consort moved into Kunning Palace.
She stood at the towering, solemn gates of Kunning Palace, gazing at the two gilded characters "Kunning" carved on the plaque. A triumphant smile curled at the corners of her lips.
From now on, she was no longer Tantai Shuya, the Princess Consort of Yan. She was the revered Empress of Da Qing, the mother of the nation, exalted by all.
"Mother Empress, you schemed against me in every way. Did you ever imagine I would one day reside in your palace?" The newly crowned Empress Tantai Shuya smiled with satisfaction.
It was said that the Empress Dowager had gone to Taihua Mountain for quiet recuperation.
But in the Empress's eyes, the Empress Dowager was not there for rest—she had been forced out of the palace. The Xie Family, relying on the Empress Dowager's support, had led a group of old ministers in denouncing the new emperor's reforms. For the sake of stability, the emperor had sent his mother away.
The heart of an emperor was cold. Perhaps a rift had formed between mother and son.
The young Empress smiled smugly as she settled into Kunning Palace. She had suffered many grievances in Prince Yan's Mansion, and Li Yuanjing had long been dissatisfied with her.
After some thought, the Empress decided to pay the emperor a visit. She carefully adorned herself, but as she looked at her reflection—her fading beauty—she sighed inwardly. Over the years, raising children had cost her both her looks and her husband's affection.
But heaven never seals all exits. The Bodhisattva had shown mercy, granting her a new life.
Accompanied by her attendants, the Empress arrived at Chang'an Palace, where Li Yuanjing handled state affairs.
"Your Majesty," a eunuch by the emperor's side respectfully announced, "Princess Zhao Yang is currently inside. Please wait outside for a moment."
The Empress was not angered. She waited patiently outside the hall, her gaze wandering until she noticed something familiar about the eunuch delivering the message.
Young in appearance, with clever eyes.
Wasn’t this De Shun, the eunuch who had once served Shen Wei?
Shen Wei had been expelled from the palace, yet De Shun had been fortunate enough to become a personal attendant to the emperor. It was a position of great promise—with a few more years of service, he might even rise to the rank of chief eunuch.
"Your mistress was driven out of the palace. Why didn’t you leave with her to serve her?" the Empress asked mockingly.
De Shun smiled. "Water flows downward, but men strive for higher ground. The emperor is my only master now."
The Empress's smile deepened.
Shen Wei, oh Shen Wei. You basked in glory for a year or two, only to end up in such a pitiful state. Even your servants have scattered like frightened birds. How truly pathetic.
Just as the Empress was reveling in schadenfreude, light footsteps echoed from the entrance of Chang'an Palace. Princess Zhao Yang, her eyes red, stormed past the threshold, clearly having just been scolded by Li Yuanjing.
"Zhao Yang, why the tears?" the Empress feigned concern.
Zhao Yang wiped her eyes. "No need for your concern, sister-in-law."
Her heart was heavy.
Over the past six months, the capital had been in chaos. Her father and eldest brother, the Crown Prince, had been killed by her third brother. Her second brother had ascended the throne, the Empress Dowager had left the palace, and Shen Wei had been cast aside. One blow after another had left Zhao Yang lost.
She felt as though she were adrift in a raging river, swept helplessly along by the currents.
The times were changing too fast, and she couldn’t keep up. Today, she had come to plead with the emperor to bring Shen Wei back to the palace, only to be harshly reprimanded. Defeated, she had no choice but to leave in tears.
The Empress, who had always disliked Zhao Yang, couldn’t resist taunting her. "You’re not getting any younger. Once the war in Liangzhou ends and the young master of the Yan Family returns, I shall arrange for him to be your consort. A woman must marry eventually. At your age, any further delay will make it difficult."
Zhao Yang was already twenty, yet she remained unwed—a fact that had sparked endless gossip in the capital.
"My marriage is for His Majesty to decide, not you, sister-in-law," Zhao Yang retorted coldly. "With new consorts entering the palace one after another, you’d best focus on securing your own position—lest you lose your authority as Empress and become the laughingstock of the harem."
With that, she swept away in a huff.
The Empress gritted her teeth. This spoiled, willful princess would pay for her insolence one day.
Suppressing her anger, the Empress composed herself into a serene expression and entered Chang'an Palace, leaning on Granny Liu’s arm.
"Your humble wife greets Your Majesty," the Empress said, curtsying respectfully. She lifted her gaze to Li Yuanjing, who sat at his desk.
Clad in imperial robes, his posture upright, Li Yuanjing was surrounded by neatly arranged memorials on the long sandalwood table. A wolf-hair brush rested in his hand, his sharp eyes as distant and unreadable as ever.
His response to the Empress was indifferent. "What is it?"
His voice was calm, devoid of emotion.
The Empress knelt, her eyes earnest. "In Prince Yan's Mansion, I committed grave mistakes. After much reflection, I have deeply repented. From now on, I shall fulfill my duties in managing the inner palace without negligence."
Li Yuanjing set down his brush.
"If you truly mean that, it is well. Rise."
The Empress’s heart swelled with hope.
If she mended her ways, diligently overseeing the consorts and the imperial children, perhaps the emperor would remember her virtues in time, and their estranged bond as husband and wife could be restored.
After stating her case, the Empress left in high spirits.
Chang'an Palace was silent. Incense curled lazily from the bronze crane censer, the winter chill rendering the grand hall desolate.
Li Yuanjing stared at the mountain of memorials before him, weary from the endless disputes of the court. He rubbed his temples.
De Shun entered quietly, placing a cup of tea on the table. He then gestured for a maid to bring two plush golden cushions, arranging them carefully behind the emperor’s chair.
Li Yuanjing opened his eyes and took a sip from the white jade cup. The tea was fragrant with a hint of spice, carrying the rich scent of roses. Warmth spread through him as he drank.
"This tea..." He paused.
De Shun bowed. "It is the winter tea prepared by the inner court."
Li Yuanjing was no fool—he knew the inner court’s winter tea did not taste like this. Leaning back, he found the cushions unusually soft, perfectly conforming to the curve of his back.
He touched them—the cushions were exquisitely comfortable, covered in fine brocade and faintly scented with mugwort.
The inner court’s embroiderers prioritized beauty over practicality. Clearly, these cushions were not their handiwork.
"Where did these come from?" Li Yuanjing asked.
De Shun hesitated before answering truthfully. "Your Majesty, this is the rose-ginger tea that Lady Shen left behind. She said the winter cold would weary you as you reviewed memorials, and this tea would warm your stomach and ease fatigue."
After a pause, he added softly, "Lady Shen was also concerned about the arrow wound on your back. Fearing the palace pillows might be too firm, she gathered the finest cotton and lambswool to make these cushions."
A pang of sorrow struck Li Yuanjing’s heart.
No one cared for him the way his Weiwei had.
As emperor, he stood at the pinnacle of Da Qing, draped in glory. Yet in the dead of night, gazing at the vast, lantern-lit palace—a magnificent cage, cold and devoid of warmth—he felt utterly alone.
He missed Shen Wei. He missed those five simple, beautiful days they had shared in Liu Family Village.
Unfortunately, the time was not yet right for him to bring Shen Wei back to the palace.
...
In Kunning Palace.
The weather remained bitterly cold, yet clusters of plum blossoms bloomed along the palace walls. The Empress was in high spirits, intoxicated by the thrill of regaining power, her pride bordering on recklessness.
Granny Liu observed this and couldn’t help but caution, "Your Majesty, though you now oversee the six palaces, you must keep your sights set on the long term. Do not stoop to petty conflicts with the concubines."
