Li Chengzhen flicked his sleeve, his tone impatient: "Understood."
With a sullen expression, Li Chengzhen followed the palace maid back to resume his studies.
Shen Wei frowned subtly. The Empress was already confined to Kunning Palace and could no longer force Li Chengzhen to study.
Yet why did the boy still have dark circles under his eyes, unsteady steps, and a listless demeanor?
Shen Wei shot Cai Ping a meaningful glance: "Cai Ping."
Understanding immediately, Cai Ping nodded swiftly. Once they returned, she would thoroughly investigate the Second Prince's recent activities.
The palanquin arrived promptly, and Shen Wei departed with her two sons.
"Mother, what is that?" Li Chengyou, seated beside Shen Wei, pointed curiously at the large wooden barrel placed in the shade along the palace wall.
Shen Wei replied, "Mung bean soup."
In the sweltering heat, such barrels were placed at intervals along the palace pathways, filled with the cooling soup to refresh the palace staff toiling under the sun.
Managing the inner court required compassion for the servants' hardships, offering small favors when appropriate. Yet Shen Wei would never drink from those barrels herself. As a superior, one must never become too familiar with subordinates—it would undermine authority.
Excessive kindness bred laxity; excessive harshness bred resentment.
The art of ruling the inner palace lay in balancing rewards and punishments—a slap followed by a sweet date.
...
...
Imperial Consort Shen governed the six palaces with grace and solemnity, showing consideration for the servants, earning her immense prestige within the inner court.
The Tantai family grew restless!
With the Empress out of favor and the newly entered Tantai Yinxue failing to gain influence, the Emperor might one day depose the Empress and elevate Shen Wei as the new one.
As the Shen family rose, the Tantai family declined. The Tantai patriarch fretted endlessly, racking his brains for a way to turn the tide.
Meanwhile, Shen Wei remained at ease. With palace affairs running smoothly, she found herself with idle time. To flaunt her "virtue as a consort," she invited Zhang Miaoyu to visit the Empress at Kunning Palace.
After an hour, the Empress’s face had twisted into such displeasure that she seemed on the verge of erupting. Shen Wei promptly excused herself with Zhang Miaoyu, diverting to Changxin Palace to visit Noble Consort Lu Xuan.
"Why go to Changxin Palace? I’d rather not," Zhang Miaoyu pouted, her dislike for Lu Xuan evident.
Shen Wei explained, "Noble Consort is with child. As sisters of the inner court, we ought to pay her a visit occasionally."
Zhang Miaoyu eyed her skeptically. "Since when are you so kind-hearted?"
Shen Wei smiled without answering.
Inside Changxin Palace, the crabapple blossoms had begun to wither, and maids swept the courtyard in orderly fashion. Lu Xuan ruled her palace with an iron grip—every servant obeyed without question.
Her pregnancy now visible, Lu Xuan’s face had rounded, and she greeted them with a serene, gentle smile. "Imperial Consort Shen, what brings you to my humble abode today?"
Beaming, Shen Wei replied, "The Eastern Lin Kingdom presented three jars of dark plum paste. The Empress Dowager kept one and granted me two. Hearing that Noble Consort craves sour flavors during pregnancy, I thought to bring you one."
Lu Xuan’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. "How thoughtful of you."
Both were seasoned foxes, exchanging pleasantries with practiced ease. They settled in the pavilion by the courtyard pond, where a cool breeze drifted.
Shen Wei elaborated cheerfully, "This paste is simple to make—pluck the plumpest, ripest dark plums, crush them in a mortar, blend with herbs and spices, then simmer into a thick paste. Seal it in jars, store in shade, and when needed, scoop two spoons into a cup, pour boiling water, and enjoy."
Lu Xuan pretended to listen, but suspicion gnawed at her. A fox doesn’t visit the henhouse without reason. Why has Shen Wei come uninvited?
Does she mean to harm my unborn child?
Is the plum paste poisoned?
As if reading her thoughts, Shen Wei turned to her maid, Cai Lian. "We haven’t yet tasted this specialty ourselves. Cai Lian, fetch the tea set and boiling water. Noble Consort and I shall sample it together."
Cai Lian obeyed eagerly.
Soon, a pristine tea set arrived. Cai Lian deftly scooped the paste, poured scalding water, and steam curled from the dark red liquid in the heat.
Lu Xuan’s brows furrowed imperceptibly as she studied Shen Wei across the table, baffled by her motives.
Then Shen Wei’s gaze shifted to Lu Xuan’s chief maid, Little Qin—one of two trusted attendants who had accompanied Lu Xuan into the palace.
Little Qin tensed under the scrutiny. "Your Grace, why do you look at this servant so?"
Shen Wei smirked. "You’ve served Noble Consort diligently for years. This cup of plum tea is my reward to you."
Little Qin paled.
Before her sat a small white jade cup filled with steaming, near-boiling liquid. Drinking it would scald her tongue and throat raw.
"Your Grace jests! This is too hot to drink. Please, spare this lowly servant," Little Qin stammered, bowing deeply.
Shen Wei arched a brow. "Ah, but you’ve never been one to hold your tongue, spreading rumors left and right. Words are sharper than boiling water, don’t you think?"
Little Qin’s face turned ashen.
Lu Xuan clenched her handkerchief, finally grasping Shen Wei’s true purpose. This wasn’t a social call—it was a warning, using Little Qin to reprimand her.
Two months prior, when Yang Xuanji fell ill, Lu Xuan had ordered Little Qin to spread whispers blaming the Eighth Prince. The gossip had since died down, and Lu Xuan assumed the matter forgotten.
Yet here was Shen Wei, striking back without warning.
Little Qin dropped to her knees, trembling, her pleading eyes fixed on Lu Xuan.
Unable to bear it, Lu Xuan forced a smile. "Imperial Consort, surely this is a misunderstanding. If my maid has offended you, I apologize on her behalf."
Zhang Miaoyu nodded vigorously, feigning sympathy. "Sister Shen, Noble Consort’s maid does gossip too much, but must you make her drink boiling water? She’ll burn herself terribly."
Little Qin wept gratefully. "Thank you, Your Grace!"
Shen Wei rested her chin on her hand. "Noble Consort is burdened by her pregnancy and hasn’t the time to discipline her servants. What punishment would you suggest for this rumor-mongering maid, Sister Miaoyu?"
Zhang Miaoyu set down her pastry and declared airily, "Oh, just poison her mute. That way, her tongue stays intact."
