Li Yuanjing was taking a short nap when he was abruptly startled awake by a call from outside his carriage.
Pressing his well-defined knuckle against his brow, he massaged it in slow circles. Why couldn’t things ever settle down? All he wanted was a good night’s rest after dealing with court affairs.
"Set course for Yu Xiu Palace," Li Yuanjing said wearily.
...
Yu Xiu Palace.
After the great fire, eunuchs had uncovered an ominous bronze plaque while renovating the courtyard, forcing the restoration work to halt. As night fell, palace lanterns were lit in the main hall, their white silk curtains swaying faintly in the evening breeze.
By the time Li Yuanjing arrived, the hall was already packed. Over a dozen consorts and concubines—Zhang Miaoyu, Liu Ruyan, Concubine Lan, Concubine Qiao, and others—had gathered. Consort Shu, who was with child, had wisely stayed away from the commotion.
The moment Li Yuanjing appeared, the flock of beauties rose to greet him, their eyes brimming with covert affection as they stole glances at the emperor.
"Explain in detail," Li Yuanjing said as he took his seat. Eunuch Deshun promptly served him hot tea.
Zhang Miaoyu stood and briefly recounted the discovery of the eerie bronze plaque in Yu Xiu Palace. To conclude, she had a servant present the unearthed artifact.
The plaque rested on a small tray placed atop a side table.
It was palm-sized, still caked with scorched earth, its surface faintly etched with dragon motifs. At its center was a single engraved character: 【Qing】.
A rusted iron needle, inscribed with incantations, pierced straight through the plaque—right through the center of the character.
An unsettling sight.
Li Yuanjing studied the bizarre object, his lips twitching imperceptibly. He wasn’t afraid of such things.
Once, during a casual conversation about witchcraft with Shen Wei, she had said: "He who wins the people’s hearts wins the empire. Curses and dark arts are mere heresies. If a mere talisman could bring down a kingdom, wouldn’t every ruler be a sorcerer?"
At the time, it had been nothing more than an offhand remark.
But Li Yuanjing had mulled over her words repeatedly, growing ever more convinced of their truth. A nation’s prosperity hinged on wise rulers, capable and loyal ministers, and law-abiding citizens.
How could a tiny bronze plaque shake the foundations of an empire?
"What do you have to say for yourself?" Li Yuanjing turned to Liu Ruyan, seated to his right.
If she could offer even the flimsiest excuse—claiming ignorance of the plaque’s origins—he would gladly let the matter drop.
Throughout history, witchcraft scandals in the imperial harem had always sparked turmoil. Li Yuanjing had no desire to see his palace drenched in blood.
The moment he posed the question, the other consorts turned their gazes toward Liu Ruyan, their eyes alight with schadenfreude.
Concubine Lan twisted her silk handkerchief in secret, her heart uneasy. The emperor’s tone was calm, his face betraying no anger. Did he truly not fear the implications of dark magic?
She couldn’t help but feel frustrated.
She had painstakingly conspired with the Xie family elders to set this trap, hoping to drag Liu Ruyan—and by extension, the entire Liu clan—into ruin. But if the emperor dismissed the plaque as inconsequential, all her scheming would be for nothing.
Liu Ruyan rose gracefully, dipping into a curtsy before Li Yuanjing. Her face was free of makeup, her silver autumn robes as delicate as white plum blossoms trembling in the wind—a sight that stirred pity in any beholder.
Her beautiful eyes brimmed with hurt as she asked, "Your Majesty, do you not trust this concubine?"
Li Yuanjing set down his teacup. "It’s not that I distrust you. But this plaque was found in your courtyard. You must offer some explanation."
Any excuse would suffice—blame a servant, claim ignorance of who buried it.
Tears spilled silently down Liu Ruyan’s cheeks, her heart aching.
She felt the emperor’s doubt like a knife.
Wiping her tears, her gaze turned frosty. "If Your Majesty already doubts me, then this concubine has nothing left to say."
Li Yuanjing: "..."
Zhang Miaoyu nearly pinched her own temples in frustration. Desperate to salvage the situation, she interjected, "Sister Consort Mei, perhaps you should think carefully. Maybe a servant buried it without your knowledge, or an intruder dropped it by accident."
Concubine Lan covered her mouth with her handkerchief, tittering. "Sister Consort Yu, you jest. The inner palace is tightly guarded—how could an intruder slip in?"
She was gleeful.
She had expected Liu Ruyan to defend herself vehemently, but the woman was proving astonishingly foolish—not only refusing to explain but even daring to resent the emperor’s suspicion.
What madness!
Without so much as a word in her own defense, even the emperor’s favor couldn’t shield her openly.
Seizing the opportunity, Concubine Lan suggested, "Your Majesty, since Sister Consort Mei refuses to speak, perhaps interrogating her maids might yield answers."
Li Yuanjing nodded.
Soon, Xue Mei—Liu Ruyan’s chief maid, responsible for managing Yu Xiu Palace—was brought in.
Caught in this sudden calamity, Xue Mei’s mind was in chaos. Trembling, she knelt and kowtowed.
"Your Majesty, please be just!" Her voice shook. "My mistress cares little for worldly affairs—she spends her days lost in poetry and books. She would never commit such treason! This must be a plot against her!"
Xue Mei knew her mistress well.
Liu Ruyan was the type to sigh over spring blossoms and autumn moons, to paint and read, her hands untouched by vulgar schemes. The very idea of her resorting to curses was absurd.
But if the lips perished, the teeth would freeze. Xue Mei had no choice but to plead for mercy on her mistress’s behalf.
Even as she spoke, she shot Liu Ruyan meaningful glances, willing her to say something—anything—in her own defense. But Liu Ruyan remained detached, lost in her sorrow.
Not even a flicker of gratitude crossed her face.
Xue Mei’s heart sank.
She was fighting tooth and nail for her mistress, yet the woman couldn’t spare her a single glance.
Zhang Miaoyu added, "Your Majesty, Xue Mei speaks sense. Sister Consort Mei is gentle by nature—she would never act with malice."
Concubine Lan countered sweetly, "Men’s hearts are hidden behind their faces. Sister Consort Mei often resents Your Majesty’s indifference. Who’s to say bitterness hasn’t festered into hatred?"
She then rose, her expression pitiful. "Your Majesty, Sister Consort Mei’s silence is damning. We beg you to investigate thoroughly."
Others who envied Liu Ruyan quickly joined the chorus, urging the emperor to punish Consort Mei.
Faced with their accusations, Liu Ruyan merely said, "The pure need no defense. This concubine has a clear conscience."
Concubine Lan’s eyes gleamed as she bowed again. "Your Majesty, Sister Consort Mei holds high rank—it would be improper to subject her to interrogation. But her maids could be sent to the inner prison for questioning. The truth may yet surface."
Silence filled the hall.
After a moment’s thought, Li Yuanjing decreed, "Consort Mei shall be confined to her quarters. Her attendants will be sent to the inner prison for interrogation. We will decide further action once the plaque’s origins are uncovered."
Xue Mei’s face drained of color.
The inner prison?
Within the palace, two places inspired utter dread: the laundry yards, where offending servants toiled in punishment, and the inner prison—a hell of torture.
Few emerged from its depths unscathed.
Her legs gave way. Crawling toward Liu Ruyan on her knees, she wept openly. "Mistress, save me! I can’t go there! Just yesterday, I rescued Young Miss Nanzhi from the fire—does that count for nothing?"
