She wore a light yellow autumn gown, her delicate features like a painting. The soft candlelight in the hall cast a halo around Shen Wei.
Like a harbor, like a homecoming.
Li Yuanjing pulled Shen Wei into his embrace. She gently stroked his back and whispered, "Your Majesty, you've returned."
Li Yuanjing replied, "Mm."
Shen Wei said, "Let’s have dinner first."
"Alright."
The weight of state affairs pressed heavily on Li Yuanjing’s shoulders, and only when he returned to Yongning Palace, to Shen Wei’s side, could he breathe freely. Over the long years, Shen Wei had taken deep root in his heart.
...
...
In Huayang Palace, Tantai Yinxue was consumed with worry, having barely slept for several nights. One by one, the key members of the Tantai family had been stripped of their positions, leaving only the direct lineage temporarily untouched.
A foreboding feeling gnawed at Tantai Yinxue—her family seemed on the brink of ruin.
Fortunately, her parents and younger brother were far away in Yanzhou, spared from the turmoil for now.
"Your Ladyship, the Empress wishes to see you." Late at night, a palace maid tiptoed into Huayang Palace and relayed the news she had gathered.
Tantai Yinxue froze, then quickly shook her head. "No."
The mere thought of the Empress sent a shiver down her spine. Some time ago, she had been playing the qin in the imperial garden at midnight when Consort Chen summoned her to attend to the Empress.
Forced to go several times, Tantai Yinxue had endured humiliation and scolding each time. The Empress had even pressed burning incense sticks into her hands, leaving behind a dozen tiny scars on her once flawless skin.
"Your Ladyship, the family is barely hanging on. Sooner or later, His Majesty’s wrath will fall upon you," the maid urged quietly. "At a time like this, you must set aside grudges and ally with the Empress to save yourselves. You and the Empress share the same bloodline—you should stand together."
Tantai Yinxue was no fool. She knew that if her family collapsed completely, she too would be discarded.
If she was lucky, she might keep her life but live out her days in loneliness.
If not, she would be handed a white silk cord and forced to end her life.
With a long sigh, Tantai Yinxue regretted everything. The palace was nothing like she had imagined. The women here were like beasts, each with their own viciousness.
And the Emperor was no ruler swayed by beauty. To him, women were merely tools to be used. He showed no sentimentality, decisive and ruthless in his judgments.
Closing her eyes, Tantai Yinxue finally relented. "Prepare for me. I’ll go see the Empress."
Late at night, the oil lamps in Tantai Yinxue’s quarters were extinguished, creating the illusion that she had retired for the night, fooling Concubine Lan across the way. The early autumn air was chilly as Tantai Yinxue disguised herself as a maid and slipped out toward Kunning Palace.
At the palace gates, fully armed guards stood watch. The once-majestic entrance now resembled a prison cage trapping the Empress inside.
Circling around, Tantai Yinxue found a hidden gap in the rear wall, overgrown with weeds, and squeezed through into Kunning Palace. The night was cold, the palace lifeless. Tall paulownia trees rustled in the wind, and the neglected chrysanthemums in the courtyard lay scattered in disarray.
Silence enveloped everything.
Only the Buddhist shrine held a flickering candlelight. On the stone steps before it sat the gaunt figure of the Empress, motionless, nearly merging with the darkness.
Under the moonlight, Tantai Yinxue approached and whispered, "Empress..."
The Empress slowly lifted her head, and Tantai Yinxue gasped, barely stifling a scream. The Empress was emaciated, her skeletal frame barely concealed by skin.
Her voice was hoarse as she spoke. "You came."
Fear and shock warred within Tantai Yinxue, but she forced herself to ask, "Why did you summon me?"
The deaths of her children, the loss of her mother, the impending ruin of her family—the haze of hatred in the Empress’s mind had finally cleared. "A centipede dies but never falls," she said flatly. "The Tantai family is about to collapse. The Emperor is heartless—he will surely order my death, and yours along with it."
Tantai Yinxue clenched her fingers.
She knew the Empress spoke the truth.
Gazing at the withered chrysanthemums in the courtyard, the Empress murmured, "Death means nothing to me. I welcome it. But before I go, I must drag that vile Consort Chen down with me."
Tantai Yinxue stiffened. "You want to kill Consort Chen?"
The Empress turned her bloodshot eyes toward her. "She stole my power, took my husband, murdered my children... Without a doubt, she will be the next Empress."
After all these years, Li Yuanjing’s favor still rested with Shen Wei. The Empress had no doubt that once she was gone, he would elevate Shen Wei to her place.
She refused to accept it.
"I am trapped here, with no one left to command," the Empress said. "Tantai Yinxue, you pride yourself on your cleverness. Surely you can devise a way to rid us of Consort Chen."
Tantai Yinxue stood, unwilling to be part of such a scheme. "I won’t help you."
The Empress chuckled darkly. "You come from the second branch of the family. Your parents and brother are in Yanzhou, managing the silk trade. When the Tantai family falls, they’ll likely flee to the neighboring Southern Chu Kingdom—but do you really think they’ll escape?"
Tantai Yinxue froze mid-step, then whirled around, her eyes burning with hatred.
The Empress’s voice was eerily calm. "Be obedient. All I want is to take Consort Chen with me."
Silence returned to Kunning Palace, broken only by the rustling of dead leaves and the swaying of the fallen chrysanthemums.
After a long pause, Tantai Yinxue left without another word.
Once she was gone, the palace plunged back into its suffocating stillness. The Empress struggled to her feet, her gray robes sweeping over the dusty floor as she shuffled back into the shrine.
The white jade statue of Guanyin sat serenely on the altar, bathed in incense smoke. The Empress lit another stick and murmured, "Bodhisattva, grant me your protection."
...
...
By dawn, the palace was alive with activity as servants carried out their duties with practiced efficiency.
The head eunuch of the Internal Affairs Office smiled obsequiously. "Auntie Cailian, please inform Consort Chen that the monthly stipends have been distributed, and payments to the imperial merchants have been settled."
Cai Lian nodded. "Well done."
The eunuch continued with flattery, but Cai Lian paid little attention.
After completing her mistress’s tasks, Cai Lian returned with two maids in tow. Consort Chen would inspect the porcelain and fabrics delivered by the merchants in the afternoon, and preparations needed to be made. There were also errands outside the palace to arrange.
Her mistress valued efficiency and despised sluggishness.
As Cai Lian walked down the long palace corridor, mentally organizing her schedule, servants greeted her warmly—"Auntie Cailian!"
"Auntie Cailian, you dropped something." A cold voice interrupted her thoughts.
Cai Lian paused and looked up to see a young maid standing by a stone lantern.
Her memory was sharp—she knew the names and roles of nearly every servant in the palace.
This slender, sharp-eyed maid was Xiaomeng, who served Tantai Yinxue of Huayang Palace.
Cai Lian frowned. "What did I drop?"
