Liu Qiao'er trembled as she approached to pay her respects, her son hiding fearfully behind her.
"Xun'er is young and has offended Consort Shu. I beg Your Highness not to take it to heart." Liu Qiao'er bowed deeply, her fear of Lu Xuan evident.
In her past life, Liu Qiao'er and Lu Xuan had fought tooth and nail, only for Liu Qiao'er to be outmaneuvered by Lu Xuan, losing the emperor's favor, her child, and her family's standing.
This time around, Liu Qiao'er had chosen to live quietly, avoiding the spotlight. Yet Lu Xuan remained as formidable as ever, scheming against other imperial consorts until they, too, lost the emperor's affection. Even the noble-born empress was no match for her.
What a terrifying woman.
Liu Qiao'er trembled like a startled bird, not daring to raise her eyes to Lu Xuan, beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead.
Lu Xuan spoke softly, her voice deceptively gentle, "It’s nothing. The Seventh Prince is still young. I would never hold a grudge against a child."
Liu Qiao'er clutched her son’s hand and hastily curtsied. "The heat is unbearable today. This humble one shall return to her palace now."
With that, she turned and hurried away.
"Why is she so afraid of me?" Lu Xuan frowned in confusion. She wasn’t some monstrous beast—why would Liu Qiao'er act as if fleeing for her life?
Since entering the palace, Lu Xuan had systematically brought down many favored consorts. Later, she hardly needed to lift a finger—new favorites would rise briefly, only to fade just as quickly. The emperor was fickle; his affections never lasted.
But she had never targeted Liu Qiao'er.
Little Qin was equally puzzled. "Consort Qiao rarely leaves her palace. It is indeed strange."
Lu Xuan tried to recall Liu Qiao'er’s background.
Consort Qiao, Liu Qiao'er, came from a modest family. However, in recent years, the emperor had favored the Liu family, promoting her father and brothers. Despite their newfound status, Liu Qiao'er remained secluded in her palace, venturing out only for obligatory greetings to the empress.
When the empress abolished the daily morning and evening courtesies last year, Liu Qiao'er seemed ready to barricade her palace gates and never emerge again.
"My lady, should we have someone keep an eye on Consort Qiao?" Little Qin asked.
In this harem, everyone had their schemes. Little Qin suspected Liu Qiao'er might be playing the fool to hide her ambitions.
Lu Xuan’s red lips curled as she slowly shook her head. "Not yet. When the time is right, we’ll deal with them one by one."
How naive of Liu Qiao'er to think that keeping a low profile would spare her from the harem’s intrigues.
In truth, any consort with a son—regardless of how quietly they lived—would eventually face Lu Xuan’s ruthlessness. She would eliminate them all to pave the way for her own son.
...
Liu Qiao'er fled as if pursued by ghosts, swiftly ushering her son back to Xiangyun Palace.
The palace was remote, its entrance lifeless, with only a few servants silently going about their duties.
"Mother," young Li Chengxun looked up, confusion written across his face. "Will Consort Shu really try to kill me?"
Liu Qiao'er’s eyes reddened as she caressed her child’s soft cheek. "Consort Shu is merciless. The death of the empress’s eldest son was tied to her schemes. Chengxun, when you attend classes at the imperial academy, you must be vigilant. Avoid conflicts, never walk alone, and scrutinize everything you eat."
As a prince, Li Chengxun was required to study at the imperial academy and Anguo Temple alongside his brothers, no matter how little favor he held in the emperor’s eyes.
Liu Qiao'er’s heart ached with worry, fearing Lu Xuan would target her child.
Lu Xuan was truly terrifying—Liu Qiao'er dared not provoke her.
"I understand." Li Chengxun nodded obediently, committing his mother’s words to memory.
Liu Qiao'er hugged him tightly and sighed. "Even if I must live on plain fare for the rest of my days, I will protect you and your sister..."
...
In the prosperous Jiangnan region, within a modest official residence, Shen Xiuming, now the regional inspector, received an imperial edict. The emperor commanded him to personally receive the Yue Kingdom’s envoy and return to the capital with them afterward.
"Return to the capital?" Shen Xiuming carefully stored the edict, his brow furrowed.
Was this a promotion—or another demotion?
Bitterness churned in his heart.
Three years ago, the Prince of Yan had ascended the throne. Shen Xiuming had rejoiced, believing his sister Shen Wei would finally find happiness as an imperial consort, her life far better than in the prince’s household.
Yet the emperor had exiled Shen Wei and her three children from the palace, citing arrogance and ambition for the consort’s title as excuses.
Preposterous! Shen Xiuming knew his sister’s gentle, unassuming nature—she wouldn’t harm a grasshopper, let alone scheme for power.
Clearly, the emperor had scorned her humble origins and fabricated reasons to cast her out.
"Enough." Shen Xiuming clenched the edict. This time, he would petition the emperor again—pleading for his sister’s return.
Even if the emperor ordered him beaten, he would not falter!
Suppressing his resentment, Shen Xiuming methodically arranged for the Yue envoy’s reception.
Rumors said the envoy sought not only a peace treaty with Da Qing but also a Qing princess for the Yue emperor’s harem—a marriage to solidify their alliance.
Three days later, General Shen Mieyue escorted the Yue delegation aboard an official vessel to the Jiangnan docks.
Shen Xiuming and local officials waited by the river. Now a striking figure in his crimson robes, Shen Xiuming stood firm against the morning wind, his sleeves billowing.
After an hour, two ships appeared.
On deck stood rows of armored soldiers, their disciplined stance as sharp as unsheathed blades.
As the ship docked, Shen Xiuming stepped forward to greet the famed general.
The wind howled, banners snapping. Shen Xiuming studied Shen Mieyue—tall, powerfully built, his dark face marked by a fierce scar, exuding the aura of a battle-hardened warrior.
Behind him stood Deputy General Yan Yunting, a decorated Liangzhou veteran returning to the capital for a prestigious promotion.
Following them were thirty Yue officials in silver-black robes.
Just as Shen Xiuming cleared his throat to speak, a gust tore a handkerchief from Shen Mieyue’s sleeve.
The general’s expression flickered with alarm before he lunged, snatching the gray cloth midair.
After tucking it away, his face resumed its stoic mask.
Shen Xiuming glimpsed delicate white embroidery on the fabric—clearly a lady’s work.
He blinked. A hardened general, secretly carrying a woman’s handkerchief?
Shen Mieyue was unmarried. Had he left his heart in Liangzhou?
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, but Shen Xiuming refrained from voicing them outright. With practiced ease, he summoned a polite smile, stepped forward, and clasped his hands in a courteous greeting. "General Shen, your reputation precedes you. I am Shen Xiuming, the Jiangnan Circuit Intendant, dispatched by His Majesty to receive—"
Before he could finish, a sharp pain shot through his arm.
Shen Mieyue had seized him by the forearm!
Shen Xiuming let out a yelp, his face flushing crimson as he cried out, "General Shen! What is the meaning of this?"
