"Only working when paid—what vulgar servants." Liu Ruyan shook her head.
The eunuch delivering ingredients from the imperial kitchen pursed his lips silently, a flicker of displeasure flashing in his eyes.
The imperial kitchen had strict daily meal regulations. If a consort wanted an extra dish, she had to purchase additional ingredients and compensate the chefs for their overtime. There was no such thing as a free meal—naturally, the consorts had to pay.
Liu Ruyan’s lunch left her in a sour mood.
In the afternoon, the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau delivered winter fabrics to each palace. As Liu Ruyan inspected the garish red and green cloth, her discomfort grew.
She asked, "Why is there no plain cloud brocade?"
The attendant from the bureau replied, "Plain cloud brocade costs fifty taels of silver per foot. It’s expensive and not warm, so it was removed from the selection."
The attendant left behind three brightly colored bolts of fabric and departed.
Liu Ruyan bit her lip lightly, her eyes brimming with dissatisfaction.
In the following days, Liu Ruyan felt as if lice were crawling over her skin—everything was unbearable. Her courtyard stood barren, not a single blade of grass in sight. The stationery in her study had been replaced with the same plain styles used by the other consorts. Even the bedding and clothing in her chambers had been changed to the gaudy reds, greens, and purples she despised.
To Liu Ruyan, this was sheer torment. She had always believed herself the most unique woman in the palace—like a solitary winter plum blossom, standing apart from the rest.
Being forced to use the same mundane items as everyone else felt like a trampling of her dignity.
The maids and eunuchs in Yuxiu Palace were equally indifferent, performing their duties half-heartedly. The fate of Xuemei served as a cautionary tale, and none dared to show Liu Ruyan any genuine loyalty.
Left with no choice, Liu Ruyan swallowed her pride and wrote to her parents, begging them to send fine paper and silver-white fabric. But her letter vanished like a stone sinking into the sea—the Liu family ignored her entirely.
Liu Ruyan, who had always floated above worldly concerns, now found herself suffocated by the stench of money and practicality.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
On a clear afternoon, the imperial kitchen delivered another meal—four dishes and a soup, including a steaming, fragrant braised pork knuckle. At the sight of the greasy meat, Liu Ruyan pushed her chopsticks away in disgust.
After much deliberation, she finally set aside her pride and went to Chang’an Palace to seek an audience with Li Yuanjing. She intended to accuse Shen Wei of deliberate persecution—her current misery was all Shen Wei’s doing.
But it was a rest day, and Li Yuanjing wasn’t in Chang’an Palace. Instead, he had taken his two sons to the training grounds for horseback riding.
"Consort Mei, please follow this servant to the grounds." Eunuch Deshun, having received Li Yuanjing’s permission, escorted Liu Ruyan inside.
Snow had fallen the night before, dusting the training grounds in white. Li Chengyou, bundled in thick riding attire and an adorable tiger-fur hat, gripped the reins tightly as his small steed galloped across the field.
"Hyah!"
Despite his tiny frame, Li Chengyou sat confidently in the saddle, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
After a dozen laps, he expertly pulled the reins to stop. But the mischievous pony reared suddenly, sending him tumbling into the snow with a soft thud.
"Brother!" Li Chengtai gasped.
Yet Li Chengyou simply scrambled up, spat out a mouthful of snow, and grinned at his father and brother. "I’m fine! I’m used to falling!"
He dashed back to the tent, gulping down the warm tea his brother handed him.
Li Yuanjing patted his son’s head. "Fine horsemanship. You take after your father."
Li Chengyou puffed out his chest. "Of course! Mother always says, 'A tiger fathers no weak cubs.'"
Li Yuanjing laughed heartily.
Liu Ruyan arrived just in time to witness this tender scene—the emperor’s booming laughter, the two robust boys grinning. She hid the bitterness in her eyes.
The emperor had time to ride with his sons, yet not a moment to spare for her in Yuxiu Palace.
Her heart ached like a knife twisting inside her.
"Your Majesty, this humble one greets you." Liu Ruyan curtsied lightly, her voice laced with grievance. She had never asked Li Yuanjing for anything before—this was the first time she had lowered her pride to approach him.
It felt humiliating.
Li Chengtai and Li Chengyou exchanged a glance before politely greeting her. "Good day, Consort Mei."
Liu Ruyan ignored them.
Li Yuanjing glanced at her. The air was frigid after the snowfall, yet Liu Ruyan wore only a thin silver robe, her hair loosely pinned with a white jade plum blossom hairpin. She looked like an ice sculpture—beautiful, but painfully cold.
Frowning, Li Yuanjing asked, "Did the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau withhold fabric? Why are you dressed so lightly?"
Liu Ruyan’s nose stung. The injustice she felt swelled into a tidal wave, flooding her heart. Tears welled in her eyes. "Your Majesty, if you still remember even a shred of our past affection, I beg you to intervene. Help me."
Li Chengtai’s small brow furrowed. Quick-witted as always, he recognized this as a matter of palace affairs. Taking his brother’s hand, he said, "Father, I’ll take Chengyou back to ride."
Li Yuanjing nodded.
Li Chengtai led his brother away. Li Chengyou, who had just finished his tea, blinked in confusion. "Ride again? But I’ve already ridden so much today..."
Ignoring his protests, Li Chengtai sternly marched him back to the field. Once his brother was safely on a pony, he tiptoed back and hid behind the tent to eavesdrop.
Inside, Liu Ruyan tearfully accused Shen Wei of relentless persecution.
Li Yuanjing rubbed his temples. "Shen Wei is the honored Noble Consort. You avoid her, refuse to greet her—such behavior is improper."
Liu Ruyan’s tears fell freely. "Your Majesty, even you side with her?"
Li Yuanjing was speechless.
Liu Ruyan continued her tirade, years of resentment spilling over. "You dote on the new while the old weep unnoticed. How heartless you are—"
Thud!
Li Yuanjing slammed his teacup onto the table. His gaze turned icy as he spoke slowly, "Winter is harsh. Thousands in the north freeze to death in the snow. A single sheet of your plum blossom paper could feed countless starving families. You live in a gilded cage, yet dare to blame me and the Noble Consort?"
Liu Ruyan paled.
This was the first time she had seen the emperor’s wrath up close.
The Li Yuanjing in her memories was dashing and radiant—a vibrant winter plum in the snow. But the man before her now was terrifying, his anger sending her knees trembling.
Outside the tent, Eunuch Deshun hurried in at the sound of the commotion, bowing deeply.
Li Yuanjing's eyes held a trace of impatience as he commanded, "Eunuch Deshun, convey Our decree: Liu Ruyan, with her cunning conduct, defiance of propriety, and insolent disobedience, is hereby demoted to Noble Consort Mei and confined to her quarters for three months. Princess Nanzhi shall be placed under the care of Consort Yu."
