Rip—
The sheet of rice paper in Liu Ruyan’s hands tore in half, the freshly painted elegant plum blossom splitting down the middle.
Liu Ruyan thought she had misheard.
"Imperial Noble Consort?" Her delicate brows furrowed. According to the hierarchical regulations of the imperial harem, the ranks of consorts, from highest to lowest, were: Empress, Noble Consort, the Four Consorts, Imperial Concubines, and Noble Ladies.
The Qing State had never before had the title of "Imperial Noble Consort."
Of course, history had seen such a title before. For instance, during the previous dynasty, the Mourning Emperor, whose court was controlled by powerful ministers, was forced to marry the daughter of one such minister as Empress. Yet, his heart belonged to another consort. Unable to defy the ministers, he created the new rank of "Imperial Noble Consort."
The Imperial Noble Consort—equal in status to a deputy Empress—symbolized the Emperor’s most cherished love. Should the Empress pass away, the Imperial Noble Consort would rightfully ascend to the throne as Empress.
"Imperial Noble Consort... Imperial Noble Consort..." Liu Ruyan clutched her chest, her heart aching as if pierced by a knife. Tears welled slowly in her beautiful eyes.
Bitter and aggrieved.
Back when the Emperor was still the Prince of Yan, during the days when Liu Ruyan and he shared the deepest affection, he had never once considered deposing his Princess Consort to make Liu Ruyan his official wife.
Yet, Shen Wei had achieved it.
Liu Ruyan closed her eyes, tears falling like rain, dampening the ink painting of plum blossoms on the desk.
She drifted through the day in a daze, unable to sleep all night. At dawn the next day, palace maids brought her ceremonial robes. Slowly, she donned the resplendent golden-red attire.
Demoted from Consort to Imperial Concubine, the quality of the robes had naturally diminished. Liu Ruyan studied her reflection in the mirror—dark circles under her eyes, her once peerless beauty now faded.
She loathed these opulent robes, yet had no choice but to wear them.
"Let us go to Yongning Palace." Carrying a heart full of unwillingness, Liu Ruyan trudged numbly toward Yongning Palace.
The day was bright, sunlight bathing the palace in a festive atmosphere.
Dressed in her ceremonial robes, Liu Ruyan stood silently among the ranks of consorts. The investiture ceremony for the Imperial Noble Consort was grand, second only to that of the Empress. Officials from the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Works carried golden and silver insignia, while grand secretaries and ministers presided over the rites.
A grand procession escorted the newly appointed Imperial Noble Consort, Shen Wei, to receive her honors.
Liu Ruyan stood by the roadside, watching as Shen Wei, clad in magnificent golden-red robes embroidered with phoenixes, shimmered under the spring sunlight, radiant as the mythical bird itself.
The robes Shen Wei wore must have taken at least half a month to craft. Today was also an exceptionally auspicious day—proof that the Emperor had planned Shen Wei’s elevation long ago, with all preparations meticulously arranged.
"Robes embroidered with phoenixes..." Liu Ruyan murmured, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
In the harem, hierarchy was strict—the phoenix motif was reserved solely for the Empress.
Yet the Emperor had made an exception for Shen Wei.
The ceremony was long and tedious, filled with countless rituals. Liu Ruyan observed numbly, kneeling and bowing when prompted by the Ministry of Rites' officiant.
By noon, the drawn-out investiture finally concluded. The consorts dispersed, each lost in their own thoughts. Liu Ruyan lingered at the gates of Yongning Palace, casting one last glance at Shen Wei within the courtyard. Amidst the lush greenery, a single beam of sunlight fell upon Shen Wei, making her gleam like a precious jewel.
Even the sunlight favored Shen Wei.
Liu Ruyan had to admit it.
She was jealous.
All her life, Liu Ruyan had prided herself on her purity, scorning the vulgar and the ordinary. Yet, faced with Shen Wei’s dazzling brilliance, she could not help but feel her heart twist with envy.
"Why? How does she deserve the Emperor’s love?" Liu Ruyan could not understand. The lowly peasant girl she had once looked down upon had repeatedly defied expectations, rising higher each time.
In the monotonous, suffocating harem, Shen Wei thrived with unyielding vitality.
Liu Ruyan sighed deeply, knowing she had lost utterly. With heavy steps, she walked away.
Liu Qiao'er, the Imperial Concubine of Ingenuity, was equally distraught. Watching Shen Wei’s glorious ascent today, her heart brimmed with bitterness and resentment.
Returning to her own palace, Liu Qiao'er stewed in discomfort. She could only console herself—an Emperor’s favor was fleeting.
Shen Wei might shine now, but time was long. The higher one climbed, the harder the fall—perhaps one day, she would plummet from grace.
"Wait... just wait. This consort will see the day she falls into the mud," Liu Qiao'er whispered, closing her eyes as she vanished into the shadows.
...
...
The grand investiture of the Imperial Noble Consort echoed through the palace, its music reaching every corner.
In Changxin Palace, the air was thick with the scent of medicine. Lu Xuan lay weakly against her bed, her maid Qi carefully feeding her a bowl of bitter medicine.
"It’s so noisy outside... what happened in the palace today?" Lu Xuan’s voice was weary, her face ashen.
Death clung to her features; she could barely keep her eyes open.
Qi hesitated to reveal Shen Wei’s elevation, evading the question: "His Majesty received meritorious officials today. It’s just a bit lively."
Lu Xuan coughed violently.
"Don’t lie to me... the ceremonial bells rang twelve times. It must be a grand celebration... tell me the truth," she rasped.
Qi pressed her lips together.
"Now even you won’t heed my words?" Lu Xuan said weakly.
Qi lowered her gaze and whispered, "His Majesty has elevated Consort Chen to Imperial Noble Consort... today was the investiture."
Lu Xuan tilted her head, murmuring, "Imperial Noble Consort... if His Majesty loves her so, why only make her Imperial Noble Consort...?"
Suddenly, she clutched her mouth, coughing violently. A metallic taste filled her throat, and she vomited a mouthful of blood. Qi gasped, hastily fetching a handkerchief to wipe Lu Xuan’s lips.
Tears welled in Qi’s eyes. "My lady, don’t despair. Once you recover, you too will rise in rank..."
Blood soaked the bedding.
The stench of iron filled the air.
Lu Xuan closed her eyes, damp with unshed tears. Her body was too weak to cry. She only felt an overwhelming sorrow. "Losing to her... I accept it."
Darkness swallowed her vision as she fainted.
...
...
Night fell over Yongning Palace.
With the grand ceremony concluded, Shen Wei, aided by Cai Lian and Cai Ping, removed the heavy ceremonial robes.
Adorned with gold, silver, and jewels, the robes had felt like wearing a suit of iron, weighing her down. The ornate crown, studded with rubies and pearls, weighed a staggering ten pounds!
Finally free of the burdensome attire, Shen Wei sighed in relief. A warm bath awaited her. Sinking into the fragrant water, she closed her eyes, savoring the comfort.
Cai Ping brought a towel, gently scrubbing Shen Wei’s back while reporting, "My lady, the porridge distribution tents outside Anguo Temple are ready. As you instructed, they will operate for ten days."
"The orphanage’s expansion is underway. Craftsmen are working to accommodate at least a thousand children."
"And the congratulatory gifts from noblewomen—converted to silver, they amount to roughly a hundred thousand taels. They will soon be sent to the border for military provisions."
Shen Wei leaned against the edge of the bathing tub, her eyes closed in comfort. "Good deeds should leave their mark—spread the word far and wide. This consort is a virtuous imperial noble consort, not some seductive temptress."
Cai Ping replied cheerfully, "Understood!"
Shen Wei had recently been conferred the title of Imperial Noble Consort, and the grand investiture ceremony had been so extravagant that it breached many imperial protocols.
For instance, Shen Wei’s ceremonial robes as Imperial Noble Consort were nearly indistinguishable from those of the Empress. Her stipend was also on par with the Empress’s. In many ways, it was almost equivalent to an "Empress’s coronation."
A faction of stubborn old ministers in the court had been eager to criticize the ceremony for its excesses. Shen Wei had to strike first, establishing her virtuous reputation to silence their objections.
The bathhouse was filled with steam as Shen Wei continued soaking, while Cai Ping stepped out to fetch soapberries.
Drowsy from the heat, Shen Wei heard footsteps outside and assumed it was Cai Ping returning. Without opening her eyes, she murmured, "Scrub my back a bit more, then give my shoulders a massage."
A pair of rough, large hands settled onto her smooth, fair back.
Shen Wei’s eyes flew open.
Through the mist, she saw Li Yuanjing standing before her, clad in his black-and-gold court robes. His handsome face was relaxed, his gaze lingering on her flushed cheeks before drifting lower—past her delicate shoulders and beyond.
His voice was husky. "Don’t move. Let this emperor serve his Imperial Noble Consort."
Shen Wei stayed still.
Li Yuanjing, a man of martial discipline, had strong hands.
He massaged her shoulders, but soon his touch wandered elsewhere...
Gritting her teeth, Shen Wei retreated to the other side of the tub, shielding herself with one arm while fixing him with a glare. "If you’re massaging my shoulders, Your Majesty, where exactly are your hands straying?"
The hot water swirled, white mist dispersing around them.
Shen Wei’s dark hair clung damply to her skin, her cheeks flushed from the steam, her exposed shoulders tinged a tempting pink. Rose petals floated in the water, a few clinging to her collarbone.
The sight was intoxicating.
Li Yuanjing’s fingers still tingled with the memory of her softness. His throat felt dry.
Since Shen Wei’s poisoning, he had abstained for a long time. Now that she was recovering, he had even consulted the imperial physician in private, who assured him that intimacy was permissible in moderation.
Shedding his court robes, Li Yuanjing stepped into the tub.
The spacious bath suddenly felt cramped.
Water splashed everywhere.
Shen Wei trembled slightly, the corners of her eyes reddening.
By the end, the bathwater had been changed three times.
Outside, clusters of vibrant flowers closed under the moonlight as the commotion in Yongning Palace lasted deep into the night.
Mindful of the physician’s warnings, Li Yuanjing restrained himself. Finally, he tenderly dressed the dazed Shen Wei in fresh sleeping robes and dried her hair.
Amid the soft chirping of insects, Shen Wei nestled against Li Yuanjing’s chest and drifted into a deep slumber. Moonlight filtered through the bed curtains as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, contentment washing over him before he, too, succumbed to sleep.
...
The next morning, dawn painted the sky.
Outside the bedchamber of Yongning Palace, a maidservant hesitated with a basin of hot water, too timid to enter.
"The morning meal is ready—why haven’t you gone in to help Her Ladyship dress? Do you dare delay her meal?" Cai Lian frowned as she approached.
The young maid stammered, her face burning. "Aunt Cai Lian... His Majesty is still inside. He told us to come later."
Faint, suggestive sounds seeped through the door.
Having served Shen Wei for years, Cai Lian understood immediately.
She cleared her throat. "It’s a day of rest. It’s only natural our masters would sleep a little longer. Go wait by the water room. Return with the hot water when they rise."
The maid scurried off with the basin.
Inside the chamber, the air was thick with lingering fragrance.
Shen Wei, exasperated, kicked at Li Yuanjing. He caught her slender ankle, his fingers tracing slow circles as he smirked. "Such a fierce Imperial Noble Consort."
Shen Wei: "..."
Fierce? Damn right!
Another wave of passion crashed over them.
Only when daylight fully brightened the room did they finally rest. With no court affairs to attend to, Li Yuanjing took his time helping Shen Wei rise, tending to her with meticulous care.
By noon, a famished Shen Wei finally sipped hot broth.
Noticing her exhaustion, Li Yuanjing regretted his earlier fervor and summoned Moxun to check her pulse. Only after Moxun confirmed, "The Imperial Noble Consort is unharmed," did he relax.
Changing into casual imperial attire, he stretched and headed to the training grounds to teach his son archery.
...
After her meal, Shen Wei reclined on a chaise longue, her body aching too much to walk. She distractedly flipped through account books while Moxun sat nearby, nibbling pastries.
Noticing the shadows under Shen Wei’s eyes and the faint bruises on her wrist, Moxun clicked her tongue. "Consort, moderation is key."
Shen Wei retorted, "Tell that to His Majesty."
A long-starved emperor was like a ravenous tiger unleashed.
Though he had held back, his vigor was undeniable.
Moxun shrugged. "I wouldn’t dare—actually, I came to bid you farewell."
Shen Wei set down the ledger, sitting up abruptly. "You’re leaving the palace?"
Moxun nodded solemnly.
Some time ago, Shen Wei had given her a book titled The Taihua Manuscript. Its contents were filled with bizarre, indecipherable script—yet Moxun felt an inexplicable familiarity with the text.
Tracing the characters, she sensed an eerie connection, as if she herself had written them.
But how?
The Southern Chu Empress had lived over a century ago, her bones long turned to dust. Moxun, not yet thirty, somehow shared a spiritual resonance with this long-dead ruler.
Her instincts had never failed her. "I must go to Southern Chu," she told Shen Wei.
She believed the answers to her destiny lay there.
Shen Wei was reluctant to let her go. Moxun’s medical expertise had been her safeguard in the palace, and her forthright nature made her a rare friend.
"Southern Chu is embroiled in civil war," Shen Wei cautioned. "Why not wait until the conflict settles?"
Moxun shook her head. "The chaos is precisely why I must go now. Don’t worry—I’ll return to you one day."
Seeing her resolve, Shen Wei could only sigh inwardly.
Life was long, and parting was inevitable.
Moxun left behind medical prescriptions and a few antidote pills. In return, Shen Wei gifted her silver notes—wealth was the best companion for a journey.
Efficient as ever, Moxun swiftly handed over her duties at the imperial medical office. Under the cover of night, she slipped out of Yanjing City like a shadow, racing toward Southern Chu.
