The dark bed curtains were thin and translucent.
The glow of palace lanterns filtered through the fabric, casting delicate light on Shen Wei's beautifully curved face. Her eyes gleamed like dark gemstones, her rosy lips curled slightly as she leaned close to Li Yuanjing. The warmth between them seeped through their thin sleeping robes.
Shen Wei's gaze shimmered with ripples akin to spring water.
Li Yuanjing's throat felt dry.
Ever since Shen Wei fell ill, his emotions had been tumultuous—rushing between court affairs and her sickbed, leaving no room for amorous thoughts.
Now that she had recovered, her charm seemed even more radiant. Her satin-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her pale sleeping robe slipped slightly, revealing skin as fair as polished jade—
Utterly bewitching.
"Your Majesty, it's time to rest," Shen Wei said with a delicate yawn, deliberately nestling into Li Yuanjing's embrace. Her soft fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, her pliant body pressing closer.
Li Yuanjing stiffened as if electrified.
In the past, he would have already pounced, devouring her until dawn without pause.
But he remembered Doctor Mo's warning—Shen Wei's health was still fragile, and intimacy was strictly forbidden.
Now, Shen Wei had fallen asleep in his arms, her long lashes resting against her fair cheeks, her lips temptingly pink.
Li Yuanjing's restraint wavered.
In the end, he summoned formidable willpower to suppress his urges. Cold-faced, he vowed silently: Once Shen Wei fully recovered, he would claim every ounce of owed passion—no matter how much she pleaded, he wouldn't relent.
...
...
Xiangyun Palace.
As soon as the Internal Affairs Office delivered the new spring dresses, Liu Qiao'er eagerly tried one on. Since Noble Consort Chen took charge of the inner palace, order had been impeccably maintained. Even neglected consorts received their monthly allowances and gifts without fail.
The new gown was exquisitely embroidered. Liu Qiao'er twirled before the bronze mirror, pleased with her reflection.
She needed to seize this opportunity—to regain favor, claim the empress's throne, eliminate Noble Consort Chen's children, and secure the throne for her own son.
"Madam! Madam!" A palace maid rushed in breathlessly.
Liu Qiao'er frowned. "What's the matter?"
The maid wiped sweat from her brow. "Noble Consort Chen has recovered. I inquired at the imperial hospital—they say Doctor Mo worked a miracle and saved her. Now, His Majesty visits Yongning Palace daily. There are even rumors..."
Noticing Liu Qiao'er's darkening expression, the maid hesitated.
Liu Qiao'er's nails dug into her palms. She closed her eyes, steadying her breath. "Go on."
The maid lowered her voice. "They say... His Majesty intends to depose the current empress and elevate Noble Consort Chen in her place."
Liu Qiao'er's knuckles turned white, her body trembling with resentment. After years of quiet endurance, she had hoped her time would come—yet Shen Wei, against all odds, had survived.
Returning to her vanity, Liu Qiao'er removed a jade hairpin, struggling to recall her past life's memories. In that lifetime, Shen Wei had been nothing but a lowly concubine in Prince Yan's Mansion, briefly favored before perishing young.
Why, then, had this reborn Shen Wei become so formidable?
"Madam, will you still wait for His Majesty on the palace path today?" the maid asked softly.
Liu Qiao'er shook her head. "No."
She knew she stood no chance against Shen Wei.
The emperor was in his prime, Shen Wei's son only five. The future held endless variables—new beauties would inevitably enter the palace.
With a long sigh, Liu Qiao'er resolved to bide her time, staying hidden.
"Noble Consort Chen may bask in glory now," she murmured, as if consoling herself, "but one misstep, and she'll plunge into the abyss. The Shen family's influence grows too rapidly—His Majesty's suspicion will eventually turn against them."
...
Kunning Palace.
A thunderous crash echoed.
The vase holding willow branches before the shrine shattered under the empress's rage. Water spilled, dousing the incense in the altar—hissing filled the air before acrid smoke spread.
The empress glared at the Buddha statue she had worshipped day and night, bitterness choking her. "Why did that woman escape death? I refuse to accept this!"
She had nothing left.
Only the gods to turn to.
Yet the Buddha she had devoted herself to remained silent. Not only had Shen Wei returned from death's door, but now whispers claimed the emperor intended to make her empress.
"I am the only true empress! That peasant-born Shen Wei—how dare she?" The empress pointed at the statue, spewing venomous curses.
Amid the smoke, the Bodhisattva offered no reply.
Stumbling out of the shrine, the empress stared at the high walls enclosing the courtyard. Weeds sprawled unchecked, wild chrysanthemums blooming defiantly—this was her prison.
Collapsing to the ground, she surrendered to despair.
...
...
The flowers transplanted into Yongning Palace's garden flourished swiftly. In the vegetable patch, the greens Li Yuanjing had recently planted sprouted vibrantly.
Zhang Miaoyu admired the little garden before returning to the pavilion to chat with Shen Wei.
During Shen Wei's "grave illness," Zhang Miaoyu had shouldered all palace affairs, losing three pounds from exhaustion!
She had prayed fervently every night—perhaps her devotion worked, for Shen Wei miraculously recovered.
Overjoyed, Zhang Miaoyu now visited for idle gossip.
Munching melon seeds, she asked curiously, "Sister Shen Wei, everyone says you'll be named empress. Is it true?"
Sipping tea leisurely, Shen Wei dismissed it outright. "No."
Since her return, Li Yuanjing had doted on her relentlessly, even proposing the empress title multiple times.
Shen Wei had declined politely.
Remaining Noble Consort suited her better.
First, becoming empress meant endless stifling rituals. She preferred freedom over rigid formalities.
Second, the Shen family's power would draw excessive attention if she ascended. They needed time to consolidate influence—too much visibility now was dangerous.
After careful consideration, Shen Wei deemed the consort title ideal—overflowing success invited disaster.
Once Li Yao married in a few years, and the current empress outlived her usefulness, with the Shen family firmly rooted—only then would she reconsider promotion.
Truthfully, as long as her son inherited the throne and she could retire comfortably, the empress title meant little.
Power, not empty honors, mattered most.
"Enough about that—let's discuss Wan'er's coming-of-age ceremony. She turns fifteen in two months; preparations should begin," Shen Wei redirected the conversation.
Across the courtyard, Cai Lian approached quietly. "Madam, word from Changxin Palace—Consort Shu requests an audience."
