When Li Yuanjing arrived at Yuxiu Palace, the fire had already been completely extinguished.
Zhang Miaoyu was present, her loud voice ringing out as she directed the eunuchs to remove the water vats. Her own residence was adjacent to Liu Ruyan’s Yuxiu Palace.
When the fire broke out in Yuxiu Palace, Zhang Miaoyu, living next door, quickly noticed. Reluctantly setting down the half-eaten pastry in her hand, she ordered her maids to summon help.
Thanks to the swift response, the flames were soon put out. The eaves and walls of Yuxiu Palace’s main hall were blackened by smoke, and the courtyard was littered with dried leaves and broken branches—highly flammable debris that had allowed the fire to spread rapidly, consuming all the plants in the garden.
Spotting Li Yuanjing’s belated arrival, Zhang Miaoyu hurried over to greet him.
Li Yuanjing asked, "What caused the fire?"
Zhang Miaoyu answered truthfully, "Your Majesty, the fire started in the courtyard. The air is dry, and Consort Mei’s garden was full of dead leaves and branches—it ignited in an instant."
Li Yuanjing frowned in confusion. "Why were there dead leaves and branches in the courtyard? Didn’t the servants clean them?"
Zhang Miaoyu spread her hands helplessly. "Consort Mei forbade them from sweeping the fallen leaves, saying it would ruin the autumn scenery."
In the crisp autumn air, leaves yellowed and fell, and the palace servants diligently swept them away daily, trimming dead branches. But Liu Ruyan, sentimental about the melancholy beauty of autumn, had a peculiar fondness for the withered foliage and refused to let anyone tidy it up.
Li Yuanjing was silent for a long moment before finally asking, "Was Consort Mei injured?"
Zhang Miaoyu scratched her head, her plump face twisting with mixed emotions. "She doesn’t seem hurt... but she’s been crying in the courtyard, and nothing I say comforts her. Perhaps Your Majesty should try?"
Li Yuanjing’s handsome brows furrowed slightly as he stepped through the gates of Yuxiu Palace.
The courtyard reeked of charred remains, the beams blackened by smoke. The once-lush garden was now a scorched wasteland, dozens of plum trees reduced to charcoal. Water had been splashed over the ground, mixing with the blackened mud into a grimy mess.
Liu Ruyan stood amidst the ruins, her silhouette frail and solitary.
Li Nanzhi stood beside her, clutching her mother’s sleeve, her eyes filled with worry. Hearing footsteps behind them, she turned and saw Li Yuanjing in his dark robes. Her voice trembled. "Father..."
She ran toward him, her face smudged with soot.
Li Nanzhi’s hair was singed, her fair skin streaked with grime, as if she had crawled out of a chimney. Li Yuanjing studied her with concern. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, her voice hoarse. "I’m fine. But Mother... she’s so upset. She won’t speak to me."
Li Yuanjing gently wiped the soot from his daughter’s cheek and turned to De Shun. "Have Consort Jade look after Nanzhi and summon the imperial physician to examine her."
De Shun bowed in acknowledgment.
Li Nanzhi longed to say more to her father, but fear and reverence held her back. She had been sent to the Crown Prince’s residence shortly after birth and had never grown close to him.
Even with a thousand words in her heart, she dared not speak them, swallowing them down instead. With one last glance at her mother, she trudged out of the palace gates.
At the entrance, Zhang Miaoyu smiled warmly, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the soot from Li Nanzhi’s face. "You must be frightened, dear. Don’t worry—I’ll take you for some cloud cake and a soothing sweet soup. You’ll feel better after a good sleep."
Li Nanzhi pressed her lips together.
Noticing the girl’s unease, Zhang Miaoyu pressed, "Did the smoke sting your eyes?"
Li Nanzhi lifted her small face, her eyes red-rimmed and lost. "Aunt Jade... does Mother not love me?"
Zhang Miaoyu blinked in surprise. "Why would you think that?"
Tears finally spilled over as Li Nanzhi poured out her sorrow. Earlier that evening, she had stayed up late in the study, keeping Liu Ruyan company as she painted.
When the fire broke out, smoke filled the room.
Li Nanzhi coughed violently, her eyes burning. Realizing the danger, she rushed to her mother’s side, desperate to lead her to safety.
But before she could reach her, Liu Ruyan had already dashed into the courtyard, frantic to save her beloved plum trees, calling for servants to put out the flames.
She had forgotten her daughter, leaving her trapped in the smoke-filled study.
At just eleven years old, Li Nanzhi stumbled blindly through the haze, crying out for her mother, convinced she was still inside.
It was only when Xue Mei burst into the study that Li Nanzhi was carried to safety. Gasping for air, her eyes stinging, she forced them open—only to see her mother standing by the trees, her face etched with grief for the blossoms.
In that moment, Li Nanzhi’s tears fell uncontrollably.
Her heart ached with confusion.
Had her mother truly cared more for the trees than for her own child?
Zhang Miaoyu listened, her own anger simmering, and pulled the girl into a comforting embrace. "Hush now, don’t cry. Your mother has always been... peculiar. If she won’t cherish you, I will. Come, let’s get you cleaned up."
Li Nanzhi clung to her, sobbing into her shoulder.
With a quiet sigh, Zhang Miaoyu led the heartbroken girl away.
...
...
Back in Yuxiu Palace, amidst the ashes, Liu Ruyan slowly turned.
Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, her silver gown fluttering in the cold autumn wind. Her face was pale as snow, her eyes tinged with red.
Like a lone white plum blooming in the ruins.
Her voice was soft, almost haunting. "Your Majesty... you’ve come."
Under the moonlight, the scene was eerie. Li Yuanjing suppressed a shudder.
Remembering her distress, he softened his tone. "The physician will be here soon. Go inside and rest—I’ll stay with you tonight."
Liu Ruyan gave a bitter smile. "Had it not been for this fire, would Your Majesty have remembered me at all?"
Li Yuanjing rubbed his temples.
Tears slid down Liu Ruyan’s cheeks. "Three years ago, when you ascended the throne, you named me Consort Mei. You had thirty-three plum trees transplanted from your estate to this palace... For three years, they bloomed and withered. And now, in one night, they’re gone."
Those trees had been the symbol of their love.
Reduced to ashes in a single blaze.
Her heart ached, sharp and relentless.
Li Yuanjing exhaled in frustration. He had spent the entire day reviewing petitions, addressing grain shortages in the south, debating funding for dam repairs, and drafting trade decrees. Exhausted, he had hoped for a peaceful night’s rest.
Instead, he found himself here, watching Liu Ruyan weep over scorched trees.
His patience wore thin.
While he toiled for the kingdom, his consorts seemed determined to burden him further.
Could none of them let him rest?
