Little Qin was terrified out of her wits, her knees giving way as she collapsed to the ground in a trembling heap.
"Beat her to death!"
The nightmare had descended too suddenly. She kowtowed frantically, her forehead striking the floor in desperate pleas. "Your Majesty, this servant is wronged! I did not stir up trouble—I saw it with my own eyes! Noble Consort Chen and Doctor Mo, in broad daylight—"
The rest of her words were smothered.
The guards had already clamped a hand over Little Qin’s mouth, dragging her out of Changxin Palace like discarded refuse. The room plunged into silence, the steam from the evening meal on the table curling in the air. Through the haze, Lu Xuan’s face twisted into something monstrous.
Lu Xuan stammered, her voice laced with panic, "Your Majesty! It is not that I am jealous—Noble Consort Chen enjoys Your Majesty’s favor, yet she is entangled with Doctor Mo. Little Qin saw it herself! Doctor Mo even had Noble Consort Chen’s handkerchief in his quarters. How could they be innocent?"
Li Yuanjing fixed her with a deep, chilling stare.
His eyes were terrifying—pitch-black and icy, devoid of any warmth, as if he were looking at a lifeless object.
"The filth and corruption of the Lu family have not escaped my notice," Li Yuanjing said. "You would do well to tread carefully."
A bone-deep cold seized Lu Xuan, as if she had been plunged into an abyss of ice. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
The sunlight outside was blinding, yet Lu Xuan felt nothing but freezing dread.
By the time she regained her senses, Li Yuanjing’s tall, dark-robed figure had already vanished. The palace maids trembled, not daring to breathe too loudly as they helped Lu Xuan up from the floor.
Her face was wet. She touched her cheeks absently—unaware that she had been crying.
A young maid, her voice shaking, stammered, "M-Mistress... His Majesty has ordered you to remain in Changxin Palace for three months to... recuperate."
A disguised house arrest.
It took Lu Xuan a long time to recover from the suffocating fear. Over and over, Li Yuanjing’s words echoed in her mind—"You would do well to tread carefully."
She wrapped her arms around herself instinctively.
A realization struck her—the Emperor might be preparing to dismantle the Lu family. The ancient houses of Tantai and Xie had already fallen, the Wu family had surrendered willingly, and other noble clans had relinquished their power. Only the Lu family remained, entrenched in Yunzhou, greedily feasting on the carcasses left behind.
Only now did Lu Xuan truly understand the ruthlessness of an emperor.
"Mistress, what should we do? Should we seek help from the Duke of Lu?" A maid knelt beside her, tears welling in her eyes.
Lu Xuan closed her eyes, her heart heavy with despair.
After a long silence, she finally wrote a letter to her father, the Duke of Lu, urging him to lay low—at least on the surface—and not to openly chase after wealth and status.
Once the letter was sent, the maid hurried off to deliver it.
The lavish meal on the table had gone cold. Lu Xuan sat back down numbly, picking up a piece of chilled shrimp with her jade chopsticks. She chewed slowly, the taste like ash in her mouth.
"Why... does His Majesty trust Noble Consort Chen so completely?" she murmured, unable to comprehend it.
...
...
Yunzhou, the Lu Estate.
After the fall of the Tantai and Xie families, the Duke of Lu had eagerly absorbed their assets in Yunzhou, filling the Lu family’s coffers to bursting.
The Duke had been basking in his triumph—until Little Qin’s bloodied corpse was delivered to his doorstep. The entire household was shaken. His face dark with fury, the Duke summoned his advisors for two full days of deliberation.
The seasoned advisors urged him to voluntarily surrender some of his lands and shops, and to pay taxes according to the official rates.
The Duke calculated the numbers in his head—if he followed their advice, he would lose at least five hundred thousand taels of silver a year. The thought pained him. For nearly a century, noble families had enjoyed privileges—suddenly paying taxes in full was like carving flesh from his bones.
"I can give the court silver, but not from my own treasury," the Duke muttered, his expression grim. "This year, the commoners and merchants of Yunzhou will pay an extra twenty percent in taxes. And those wealthy families in the eastern district—I’ll make them cough up some silver too."
He felt no remorse squeezing money from the people.
His advisors protested, but the Duke ignored them.
After they left, he drank alone in his study, stewing in frustration. When he learned that Lu Xuan had been placed under house arrest, he hurled his wine cup across the room in fury. "Useless! Pregnant, and still overshadowed by a mere consort!"
He had poured resources into grooming Lu Xuan—hiring the finest tutors in Yunzhou to teach her music, poetry, and calligraphy, shaping her into the perfect imperial concubine.
Yet she had failed. Three years in the palace, and she still couldn’t outmaneuver a peasant-born noble consort.
The study door creaked open.
His youngest daughter, Lu Yun, glided in gracefully. The winter chill had her bundled in a thick deerskin coat, her cheeks rosy from the cold. She peeked at her father cautiously. "Father, the kitchen prepared roasted venison today. I brought you some."
She set the dish before him with practiced ease.
Seeing his troubled expression, she smiled sweetly. "Father, don’t worry. Once Sister gives birth to another prince, perhaps His Majesty’s favor will return."
The Duke sighed. "Let us hope so."
Lu Yun bowed and withdrew, her steps light. Winter was approaching, the courtyard’s plum blossoms already budding in defiance of the cold.
A gust of wind tousled her hair. Lu Yun brushed it aside, her face expressionless.
She had seen the future in her dreams—Lu Xuan’s child would be a daughter, sickly and weak.
"Sister," she murmured, a determined glint in her eyes, "the glory of the Lu family will rest on me."
Once Lu Xuan lost favor completely, she would ask her father to send her to the palace.
She was certain she could capture the Emperor’s heart.
...
...
A bitter wind howled, ushering in winter. Though Consort Shu remained confined during her pregnancy, the rumors about Noble Consort Chen and Doctor Mo did not fade.
Until shocking news spread—the Imperial Medical Bureau would establish a "Women’s Medical Division."
Doctor Mo was appointed as its chief physician. Moreover, Noble Consort Chen had ordered notices posted throughout the capital, calling for skilled female physicians across the Great Qing Kingdom to serve in the Imperial Medical Bureau.
Men and women were kept separate, and most physicians in the kingdom were male. Women seeking treatment often faced discomfort.
The Women’s Medical Division would make it easier for noblewomen to receive care.
The court erupted in debate. Stubborn officials vehemently opposed the idea, insisting that women could not serve as imperial physicians. They even cited historical records, claiming no precedent existed.
Shen Wei rolled her eyes, baffled by these antiquated minds—why did men care if women wanted female doctors?
She skimmed the list of dissenters and promptly invited their wives and daughters to tea the next day. Soon, most of the opposition vanished.
Yongning Palace.
Zhang Miaoyu nearly choked on her tea, eyes wide. "What? Doctor Mo is a woman?"
Shen Wei handed her a handkerchief. "She’s a dear friend of mine, and an exceptional physician. If not for Consort Shu’s meddling, her identity would never have been exposed."
Seizing the opportunity, Shen Wei had established the Women’s Medical Division, revealing Moxun’s true gender.
The scandal between Noble Consort Chen and Doctor Mo dissolved instantly.
