A Concubine’s Competitive Life in the Prince’s Household

Chapter 338

Shen Wei rubbed the bridge of her nose—her sneezing had become alarmingly frequent lately. Sometimes, she would even wake up in the middle of the night sneezing for no apparent reason. Her nose itched uncomfortably.

Standing before a bronze mirror, Shen Wei adjusted her ceremonial robes and hair ornaments. Cai Ping entered with a bowl of hot soup and some pastries. "My lady, you might not get to eat much at tonight's banquet, so have some supper first to fill your stomach."

Shen Wei took a few sips of the soup and asked, "Has Consort Mei changed into her ceremonial robes yet?"

Cai Ping shook her head.

A cold expression crossed Shen Wei's face. "Go tell Consort Mei that if she refuses to wear the proper attire, she won’t be attending tonight’s banquet at all."

In solemn and formal settings, the imperial consorts were not permitted to dress in clashing styles. According to protocol, all concubines attending major events had to wear uniform ceremonial robes—a symbol of their status. The robes were made of luxurious brocade, predominantly gold and red, embroidered with peonies, phoenixes, and cranes, ensuring a cohesive aesthetic.

On such occasions, Liu Ruyan absolutely could not wear white. It would invite criticism if word got out.

"Yes, I’ll deliver the message at once," Cai Ping replied before hurrying off to Yuxiu Palace. She couldn’t help but wonder—Consort Mei was merely a low-ranking concubine now. If she didn’t want to attend, why bother persuading her? It would be simpler to act as if she didn’t exist.

Yet Shen Wei seemed insistent on Consort Mei’s presence. Cai Ping couldn’t fathom her mistress’s intentions but kept her head down and carried out her task swiftly.

Back in her chambers, Shen Wei managed to eat just enough to stave off hunger.

Cai ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍Lian entered to announce Doctor Mo’s arrival.

Shen Wei received her in the inner hall.

Doctor Mo, dressed in the dark blue robes of a court physician and wearing a black official hat, looked visibly exhausted. She plopped onto a cushioned chair and took Shen Wei’s pulse.

After a long pause, Moxun tilted her head. "Noble Consort Chen, your health is excellent—no major ailments. Tell me, what exactly is troubling you?"

Shen Wei pointed to her slightly reddened nose. "Ever since spring began, I’ve been sneezing nonstop."

Sneezing wasn’t a serious condition, but it wasn’t trivial either.

Constant sneezing and occasional runny noses were hardly elegant. Shen Wei, who prided herself on perfection, was determined to resolve the issue.

Earlier that day, while dining with Li Yuanjing, she had failed to suppress a sneeze. Though the emperor hadn’t shown any outward displeasure—even kindly suggesting she add another layer of clothing—Shen Wei couldn’t shake her discomfort.

Even if Li Yuanjing claimed not to mind, she worried that repeated incidents might eventually breed resentment.

A beautiful woman was a sight to behold, but one sneezing and sniffling incessantly? Far less appealing.

Shen Wei had to prevent such a scenario.

"Allow me to ask in detail," Moxun leaned closer. "Noble Consort, what exactly are your symptoms?"

After a moment’s thought, Shen Wei answered truthfully, "My nose itches, sometimes my eyes too. My nose runs, but it doesn’t feel like a cold."

Moxun stroked her smooth chin, pondering, then glanced around the inner hall before abruptly stepping out into Yongning Palace’s lush garden.

Moments later, she returned with an armful of blooming flowers and dumped them onto the table. The intense fragrance filled the air, and Shen Wei’s nose immediately tickled—she sneezed repeatedly.

Moxun nodded in understanding. "You have hay fever."

Shen Wei frowned. "But the palace has always been full of flowers in previous years, and I never sneezed like this."

Moxun explained patiently, "If winter ailments aren’t properly treated, wind-cold pathogens accumulate in the body. When spring arrives and yang energy surges, hay fever can develop. It’s easily treated—I’ll prescribe a qi-tonifying remedy. Drink two doses daily, and you’ll recover quickly."

Relieved, Shen Wei let out a breath.

So it was just a pollen allergy.

She ordered the servants to prepare the medicine, then cast a mournful glance at the flower-filled garden. "Remove all these flowers and distribute them among the other consorts’ palaces."

Cai Lian blinked in surprise. "But if we remove all the flowers, Yongning Palace’s garden will be empty."

Shen Wei sighed. "Plant some vegetables for now."

Once her hay fever was cured, she could always replant flowers later.

...

...

Night fell, a crescent moon hanging in the sky, its glow brushing the willow branches.

In the Qinghua Palace, where foreign envoys were being received, ministers and their families took their seats one after another, as did the imperial consorts in the women’s section. The Empress Dowager, still recovering from illness, was absent.

Following De Shun’s clear announcement—"His Majesty the Emperor arrives!" "Noble Consort Chen arrives!"—Shen Wei walked beside Li Yuanjing into the resplendent hall.

The assembled officials bowed in greeting.

A beaded curtain separated the emperor from his subjects. Seated at Li Yuanjing’s side, Shen Wei gazed at the sea of bowing ministers and noblewomen, a complex emotion stirring in her heart.

No wonder everyone coveted the throne—such majesty, such dominion over the world. Who wouldn’t be tempted?

"Rise," the emperor commanded.

The crowd returned to their seats. Shen Wei sat properly in the honored position to Li Yuanjing’s right, her eyes scanning the women’s section.

All the consorts wore gold-and-red ceremonial robes, while the noblewomen were clad in formal court attire. Liu Ruyan sat quietly at her table, an ethereal figure even in the opulent robes she rarely wore. Her gaze remained cool and detached, like an exquisite ice sculpture. Occasionally, her eyes flickered toward the emperor’s throne, hoping for even a glance from Li Yuanjing.

Alas, her affection was unrequited.

Liu Ruyan’s heart ached. She had forced herself into the gaudy robes despite her discomfort, just to see Li Yuanjing. Yet the emperor hadn’t spared her a single look. Clutching her wine cup, she swallowed her sorrow with a bitter gulp.

"Your Majesty, the Southern Chu envoys have arrived," De Shun announced with a bow.

Li Yuanjing nodded. "Admit them."

The dragon-carved sandalwood doors swung open. Armored imperial guards lined the path as six high-ranking Southern Chu envoys strode into Qinghua Palace. Shen Wei studied them curiously.

The delegation to Yanjing numbered fifty or sixty, but only the six highest-ranking officials attended tonight’s banquet. The eldest was in his sixties, the youngest barely twenty, all dressed in deep purple robes with wide sleeves.

"Your humble servants greet the Emperor of Da Qing," the envoys saluted, their tone neither submissive nor arrogant.

Li Yuanjing inclined his head slightly. "Be seated."

The six men took their places.

Tonight’s banquet was purely for welcoming the envoys—no state affairs or trade discussions, just food and wine. The music and dances from the imperial troupe created a convivial atmosphere. But Shen Wei knew better. Southern Chu’s emperor, Li Yuanli, was a petty man. Sending this delegation to Yanjing wasn’t just about peaceful trade negotiations.

Trouble was inevitable.

Sure enough, one envoy in his thirties deliberately set down his wine cup with a look of disdain. He wrinkled his nose, eyeing the drink with contempt. "This wine is utterly unpalatable—not even fit to be Southern Chu’s swill. Emperor of Da Qing, does your kingdom lack decent wine?"

His voice was measured, but the mockery in his tone was unmistakable.

The banquet’s food and wine had been meticulously arranged by Shen Wei and the Ministry of Rites to ensure no oversights. The plum blossom wine served tonight was a Da Qing specialty—rich, mellow, and fragrant.

The Southern Chu envoy was clearly picking a fight.