The Empress screamed hoarsely as she pounded on the palace gates, but the towering doors of Kunning Palace—symbolizing her imperial glory—stood unyielding, barring her path. After what felt like an eternity, her strength drained, and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing wretchedly.
...
In Changxin Palace, Lu Xuan’s belly had grown noticeably rounder. Supporting her lower back with one hand, she strolled leisurely through the palace grounds. The weight of pregnancy had left her feet slightly swollen, and the imperial physician had advised daily walks to ease the pressure.
It was early September, and the leaves in the courtyard had begun to yellow, while the lotus blossoms in the pond withered one by one. After completing a lap around the garden, Lu Xuan rested in a pavilion.
Her maid, Little Qin, brought her a warm bowl of pear soup to soothe her stomach.
After taking a sip, Lu Xuan asked languidly, "How are things in Kunning Palace?"
Little Qin replied with glee, "The Empress has gone mad. She’s lost two sons in succession, and her birth mother is dead too. Serves her right."
Lu Xuan smiled faintly.
She continued slowly, "Madam Tantai’s funeral was an extravagant affair. Her coffin was built to the specifications of a royal prince. The entire nobility was invited—utterly excessive."
Da Qing’s ceremonial laws were strict.
Madam Tantai was merely a first-rank noblewoman, yet her funeral had blatantly overstepped imperial protocol—a direct challenge to the Emperor’s authority.
Little Qin caught on immediately. "Does my lady intend to bring down the Tantai family?"
Lu Xuan’s lips curled into a cold smirk. "A funeral that defies imperial decree is an insult to the throne. Little Qin, write to my father. Have him rally the court officials to denounce the Tantais."
Strike while the iron is hot.
Crush the Tantai clan, carve up their wealth. With the Empress repeatedly failing and her family disgraced, she won’t hold onto her position as head of the harem.
Once the Empress falls, Lu Xuan—backed by her family—will have a chance to claim the throne for herself.
Little Qin hurried off to carry out her orders. Lu Xuan remained in the pavilion, the steaming pear soup beside her.
She took another sip, her mind already plotting her next moves. First, the Empress. Then, Consort Chen. The title of Empress would be hers.
...
In Xiangyun Palace, Liu Qiao'er sat beneath a phoenix tree, embroidering. Autumn approached, and the tree’s leaves had begun to yellow. A cool breeze rustled through them.
"Mother, what are you making?" Her son, Li Chengxun, perched on a small stool nearby, watching curiously.
Liu Qiao'er smiled. "A little vest for you."
Li Chengxun frowned. "But the Imperial Household Department already delivered autumn clothes."
Liu Qiao'er patted his head and said meaningfully, "In this palace, trust no one. Consort Chen controls the household. The things she sends might be poisoned."
Li Chengxun nodded vaguely, offering no argument.
Liu Qiao'er continued stitching, humming a cheerful tune.
The harem’s power struggles never ceased. The Empress had lost both her sons. If events followed their previous course, the Empress would soon "fall ill and pass away."
Next, Consort Chen and Consort Shu would inevitably battle for the Empress’s throne, tearing each other apart and harming each other’s children.
In the end, both would be ruined.
Liu Qiao'er grinned to herself. When the snipe and clam fight, the fisherman profits. Let those ambitious women claw at each other. She, Liu Qiao'er, would remain passive—and perhaps emerge the ultimate victor.
...
In Yongning Palace, Shen Wei and Zhang Miaoyu sat together at a small table, reviewing the palace’s autumn budget and summer expenditures.
Outside the window, tiny osmanthus blossoms dotted the branches, their delicate fragrance drifting indoors. After flipping through the ledger for a while, Zhang Miaoyu rubbed her temples, dizzy. She downed two cups of lotus leaf tea. "Sister, let’s rest. My eyes are killing me."
Shen Wei handed the ledger to Nanny Rong, giving her a few instructions before the old woman departed with the books.
The two women sipped tea in the study.
Zhang Miaoyu set her cup down, eyes gleaming with gossip. "Sister Shen Wei, have you heard? The Emperor has already moved against the Tantai family. He’s investigating them for corruption, funeral excesses, tax evasion, and crimes against the people. Dozens of Tantai officials have been thrown into the dungeons."
She clicked her tongue. "Serves them right. The Tantais are a century-old dynasty, yet they fight outsiders and each other. And the Empress is useless. For such a grand family, not a single one of this generation is worth anything."
The Tantai house was crumbling.
Shen Wei lifted her teacup, smiling. "We need only watch."
Emperor Li Yuanjing had unsheathed his blade against the Tantais. Within a month, their estate would be confiscated—some executed, others exiled.
Zhang Miaoyu gloated. "Don’t worry, I won’t meddle. I even wrote to my father, telling him not to play both sides. No need to submit memorials condemning the Tantais—let them collapse on their own."
Shen Wei praised her. "Sister Miaoyu is truly wise."
When a wall topples, everyone pushes.
Li Yuanjing’s resolve to destroy the Tantai family was unshakable. Once they fell, the other noble houses would descend like vultures to feast on their remains.
Every family coveted the Empress’s vacant throne. Once she was deposed, every consort would see a chance to rise.
Li Yuanjing saw through them all. He knew their ambitions and would deal with them—one by one.
After finishing her tea, Zhang Miaoyu turned her attention to the sweet osmanthus cakes. She popped one into her mouth and nudged Shen Wei. "Sister, there’s something I’ve been wondering. Why did the Second Prince willingly walk into the fire?"
That night, Li Chengzhen could have sought the Empress Dowager’s protection to escape the Empress.
Yet after just a few words from his mother, he had stepped into the flames without hesitation.
Shen Wei lowered her gaze. "It’s a kind of sickness."
She vaguely recalled a term from her university psychology elective—parental trauma stress disorder.
The condition arose from prolonged parental control and criticism, breeding deep-seated fear. Victims felt suffocated and panicked in their parents’ presence, their symptoms easing only with distance.
Some even dreaded answering their parents’ calls, spiraling into days of anxiety after a single conversation.
Li Chengzhen had been neglected by his father and oppressed by his mother. Over time, his spirit twisted into depression. He could have been saved, but the Empress’s voice had been a curse, pushing him into the abyss.
He chose to burn.
Zhang Miaoyu sighed. "The Empress probably still doesn’t think she did anything wrong." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That woman always believes she’s right. Be careful, Sister. She’s deranged—she might blame you for her downfall."
Shen Wei set down her cup. "I know."
Soon after, Cai Lian arrived with fabrics from the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau for Shen Wei to select autumn attire. Shen Wei sifted through the materials and pointed at a piece of Shu brocade. "Have the bureau use this to make a warm autumn gown for Yao'er."
Cai Lian bowed.
Shen Wei then asked, "How much did the child eat at lunch today?"
Cai Lian replied, "Princess Yao had a bowl of rice porridge at noon. She’s been holed up in her room alone."
Since witnessing her brother perish in the flames, Li Yao had fallen gravely ill. Though she could now leave her bed, she remained listless and gaunt, her spirit broken.
Shen Wei sighed and instructed Cai Lian, "Have Le You and Chengyou spend more time with her."
Children in the imperial palace inevitably face countless storms and trials—partings and losses. Li Yao might need a long time to heal from her grief. But as a princess on the cusp of her coming-of-age ceremony, she wouldn’t have the luxury of time to mourn.
At the same time, Shen Wei felt a renewed resolve in her heart—she must never let her own child tread the same path. The road Li Yao had walked, she could not allow Le You to follow.
As dusk fell, Zhang Miaoyu left cheerfully, two boxes of pastries tucked under her arm.
Lanterns lit up the palace grounds, and after concluding his court duties, Li Yuanjing returned to Yongning Palace.
The night was deep, a cool breeze rustling the hem of his dark robes, while the faint fragrance of osmanthus drifted through the courtyard. Li Yuanjing lifted his gaze and saw Shen Wei standing beneath the palace lantern, just as she always had.
