Xue Mei considered herself a dutiful servant.
Having served Liu Ruyan for many years, she had endured her mistress’s eccentric temperament with unwavering perseverance, diligently carrying out every task assigned to her.
Today, she had gone out of her way to defend Liu Ruyan—how could Liu Ruyan now abandon her to her fate?
Xue Mei clutched at the snow-white hem of Liu Ruyan’s robe, tears falling in heavy drops.
Her hands were stained with dirt, leaving dark, grimy fingerprints on the pristine fabric.
Liu Ruyan spoke calmly, "Xue Mei, the innocent need no defense. You are my palace maid—surely, the inner prison guards would not dare to take your life."
"Unyielding through trials, steadfast against all winds"—Liu Ruyan believed that as long as she and Xue Mei had clear consciences, no torture, no matter how severe, could force an innocent person to confess falsely.
The moment Liu Ruyan spoke, the other concubines exchanged stunned glances.
How heartless.
Xue Mei had pleaded for Liu Ruyan’s sake, yet when Xue Mei herself faced imprisonment, Liu Ruyan not only refused to intercede but even uttered such chilling words.
Years of master-servant bonds should have fostered some affection—even stone would soften over time.
Concubine Lan clenched her handkerchief in frustration, cursing inwardly. How could someone so cold-hearted hold the rank of consort? It was unconscionable.
Xue Mei felt as if she had swallowed a lump of ice, her throat tight with unshed tears. Slowly, she released Liu Ruyan’s robe.
Despair settled in her heart.
"Clear conscience"? What a joke.
The inner prison’s tortures were brutal and bloody—it was Xue Mei who would suffer. Yet Liu Ruyan acted as though it were none of her concern, even encouraging Xue Mei to endure the pain.
Zhang Miaoyu pressed her lips together and stood. "Your Majesty, I am truly unfit to manage the harem. The case of the bronze hex tokens is too convoluted... Perhaps we should wait for Consort Shen’s return in two days. She is wise and discerning—she will surely uncover the truth."
"Until Consort Shen and the Empress Dowager return, Sister Mei and her attendants should remain confined in Yuxiu Palace. It is already late, and Your Majesty, having devoted the day to state affairs, must be hungry. You should retire for supper."
Zhang Miaoyu invoked Shen Wei’s name.
Li Yuanjing had little patience for harem disputes. As emperor, how could he waste his days entangled in petty squabbles among women?
"Very well," he said. "Proceed as you suggest. All of you, dismissed."
Concubine Lan, unwilling to let the matter drop, opened her mouth to stir further trouble—but a sharp glare from Zhang Miaoyu silenced her.
With a huff, Concubine Lan twisted her handkerchief in delicate fingers and shot a covert glare of displeasure.
Li Yuanjing, ravenous by now, departed swiftly, instructing De Shun to summon Le You and the other children to dine with him.
The other concubines dispersed one by one.
Before leaving, Concubine Lan cast a disdainful glance at Xue Mei, who sat slumped on the ground. "Such loyalty," she sneered, "wasted on a heartless mistress."
Xue Mei wiped away her tears but said nothing.
Once the crowd had gone, Yuxiu Palace fell into silence. A cold wind swept through the halls, lifting the white drapes like restless spirits.
Liu Ruyan felt no relief at having narrowly escaped punishment. Standing beneath the eaves, she watched the emperor’s retreating figure—his strides firm, his back unyielding, never once looking back.
Her heart ached, and tears slipped from her lowered lashes. Noticing the stains on her skirt, she called to Xue Mei, "Fetch me a new robe. This one is soiled."
Xue Mei opened her mouth, but the words died in her throat.
Liu Ruyan was the mistress; Xue Mei, the servant. In the harem, how many masters truly saw their servants as human?
To Liu Ruyan, lives mattered less than a few plum blossoms.
Xue Mei turned away, her expression cold, and went inside to retrieve the garment.
In the courtyard, a charred branch of plum blossoms snapped and fell into the mud with a dull thud.
...
Night at Anguo Temple.
The temple’s maple leaves were renowned far and wide. Under the moonlight, the crimson foliage took on an ethereal beauty.
Beside the maple grove flowed a quiet river, its surface shimmering like scattered silver under the moon’s glow.
Attendants waited by the water’s edge as Shen Wei, dressed in a pale-red autumn gown, held a small paper lantern and cheerfully announced, "Empress Dowager, I’ll release my lantern first."
The Empress Dowager smiled. "Don’t forget to make a wish."
Floating lanterns on the water, carrying prayers for health and peace, were a cherished tradition in Qing State.
After a day of prayers at Anguo Temple, Shen Wei had brought the Empress Dowager to the riverbank at night. The delicate paper lanterns, each holding a tiny candle, cast a soft, flickering light.
Clutching her lantern, Shen Wei silently wished:
"Year after year, may wealth abound.
And in time, may retirement be found."
With her wish made, she set the lantern adrift. A gentle breeze carried it downstream, the tiny light gradually fading into the distance.
After releasing her own, Shen Wei helped the Empress Dowager with hers. Ever gracious, she also permitted the attending maids to send their own lanterns skyward.
As the night deepened, Shen Wei and the Empress Dowager retired to their quarters in the temple.
In her room, Cai Ping removed Shen Wei’s hairpins. "My lady," she reported, "word has come from the palace. A bronze hex token was unearthed in Yuxiu Palace. Concubine Zhang suggests delaying judgment until your return."
Yawning delicately, Shen Wei replied, "Have Cai Lian and the others investigate discreetly. I’ll handle it once we’re back."
Cai Ping nodded and helped Shen Wei into bed.
The temple was serene at night, nestled between mountain and water, the chirping of crickets drifting through the courtyard. Shen Wei curled contentedly under the covers and soon drifted into peaceful slumber.
She slept soundly until dawn.
The cheerful chatter of birds outside roused her. Blinking sleepily, she pushed aside the bed curtains—sunlight flooded the room.
Startled, she scrambled for her shoes. "Cai Ping! Why didn’t you wake me? I was supposed to accompany the Empress Dowager to morning prayers!"
Cai Ping entered with fresh robes, smiling. "No need to hurry, my lady. The Empress Dowager said you rarely leave the palace—you should rest. She went to pray alone. You may stroll the grounds and enjoy the maples at leisure."
Shen Wei slowed her movements.
After washing, dressing, and breakfasting, she stepped outside to find the day in full bloom.
The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves. Anguo Temple’s sprawling grounds included a rear mountain adorned with fiery maples—part reserved for imperial archery practice, part for noble pilgrims, and a newer section housing orphaned children.
Not wishing to disturb the Empress Dowager at prayers, Shen Wei wandered the mountain paths with her maids, admiring the scarlet canopy overhead.
Noticing her mistress’s delight, Cai Ping remarked, "His Majesty mentioned transplanting maples to Yongning Palace before we left. By the time we return, they’ll surely be in place."
Seated on a wicker chair in the autumn pavilion, Shen Wei sighed inwardly. Had Cai Ping not mentioned Li Yuanjing, she might have gone days without recalling the man.
Away from the palace, one easily forgot one’s employer.
Sipping mellow Mengding tea and savoring pastries from Wei Yan’s famed bakery, Shen Wei continued her tranquil appreciation of the scenery.
Before long, Cai Ping approached. "My lady, Vice Minister Yan’s wife requests an audience."
Shen Wei paused, teacup in hand. "Who?"
Cai Ping reminded her, "The wife of the Vice Minister of Rites, Yan Yunting—Tantai Rou. She came to Anguo Temple to offer incense today and, upon learning of your presence, specifically requested an audience."
