There was more than just one concubine in the imperial harem!
Shen Wei deeply regretted it. When Moxun left the palace last year, she should have secretly asked him to slip Li Yuanjing a potent drug to weaken his formidable stamina.
Slumping in despair for a moment, Shen Wei suddenly sprang up with renewed vigor. After a quick wash, she began jogging around the courtyard to stay fit.
Li Yuanjing was a tiger in his thirties—she had to strengthen herself too.
Shen Wei refused to admit defeat and never slacked off.
She was determined to give it her all—let’s see who would wear out whom first!
After twenty laps and a full-body stretch, Shen Wei busied herself with the day’s palace affairs.
...
While Li Yuanjing handled court matters, Shen Wei managed the harem. Both were occupied during the day, and at night, they were just as busy beneath the embroidered canopy.
Amidst the endless bustle, days flew by in a blur, and before they knew it, another year had passed.
Shen Wei, generous in spirit, permitted plum trees to be planted in Yuxiu Palace. Dozens of saplings were transplanted into the barren soil. When spring arrived, green leaves sprouted from the branches.
Yet, when Liu Ruyan saw the plum trees in the courtyard, she couldn’t muster any joy.
Every time she painted in her study and glanced up at the flourishing trees, she felt it was Shen Wei’s charity—a handout that only deepened her resentment.
Even the sight of the plum trees stretching their leaves in the sunlight filled her with disgust.
The Emperor hadn’t set foot in Yuxiu Palace since. The other concubines avoided Liu Ruyan, and even the palace maids were reluctant to speak with her.
Liu Ruyan was drowning in bitterness.
She felt lost and alone, as if she were slowly rotting away in solitude.
No warmth of the sun could melt the ice in her heart. She had become a winter plum—out of place among the flowers of other seasons.
Unable to bear staying in Yuxiu Palace, Liu Ruyan took her maids to the imperial garden to admire the spring scenery.
The garden was bursting with life—peach blossoms, apricot flowers, and pear blooms swayed as butterflies flitted about. Dressed in white, Liu Ruyan wandered through the blossoms, her eyes clouded with sorrow.
Suddenly, lively laughter rang out from a nearby pavilion—clear and bright like silver bells.
A maid quietly reminded her, "Your Highness, that’s Princess Nanzhi, Princess Le You, and Consort Yu over there. If you see Consort Yu, you must greet her properly."
The palace had strict hierarchies. Zhang Miaoyu was a consort, while Liu Ruyan was only a concubine—a lower rank meant she had to bow and pay respects.
Liu Ruyan didn’t respond. She gazed into the distance, past the pink peach blossoms, and spotted Zhang Miaoyu with the two princesses.
Bathed in spring light, Zhang Miaoyu was flying kites with the girls in an open field.
Princess Le You had crafted a majestic eagle kite, while Li Nanzhi had made a delicate butterfly. Both kites soared high in the sky.
But Zhang Miaoyu’s kite refused to take flight. Li Nanzhi handed her own kite to a maid and cheerfully ran over to help.
"Mother Yu, you have to run first to catch the wind!" Li Nanzhi, dressed in a lovely pink spring gown with her hair in playful twin buns, grinned with crescent-moon eyes.
Zhang Miaoyu, panting, wiped her brow and plopped onto a rosewood chair. "I can’t run anymore—I’m exhausted!"
Li Nanzhi tugged at her sleeve, pleading in a sweet voice, "The Noble Consort said you must exercise daily—being too heavy isn’t good for you! Mother Yu, please run with me, just for a little while, okay?"
Her big, hopeful eyes were impossible to refuse.
Zhang Miaoyu sighed and reluctantly agreed. "Just once. If the kite still won’t fly, I’m done."
Li Nanzhi clapped in delight. "Yes!"
With the spring breeze guiding them, Li Nanzhi pulled Zhang Miaoyu along. The kite wobbled, then slowly rose into the air.
"It’s flying!" Li Nanzhi cheered, clapping her hands.
Amidst the blooming flowers, the girls’ laughter was bright and carefree. The scene, so full of warmth, pierced Liu Ruyan’s heart like a blade.
She had lived in seclusion, detached from the world, and hadn’t seen her daughter in so long.
She had never seen Li Nanzhi so happy—radiant, playful, and free of worries.
"Mother Yu, the kite fell! Oh no!" Li Nanzhi gasped as Zhang Miaoyu’s kite string snapped, sending the kite tumbling onto a peach tree.
Li Nanzhi hurried to retrieve it.
Stretching on her tiptoes, she reached for the kite tangled in the branches. As it fell into her hands, she glanced up—and froze.
Behind the peach tree stood Liu Ruyan.
Mother and daughter locked eyes.
Li Nanzhi’s smile faded. She hadn’t expected to see Liu Ruyan here. Lowering her head, she spoke evenly, "Greetings, Mother."
Liu Ruyan replied coolly, "Mm."
Clutching the kite, Li Nanzhi turned and ran back to Zhang Miaoyu. Instead of taking the kite, Zhang Miaoyu first dabbed Li Nanzhi’s forehead with a handkerchief.
Soon, the kite was airborne again.
The girls’ laughter returned, ringing through the garden.
Liu Ruyan stood behind the peach tree, watching her once-timid daughter—now lively and bright—belonging to someone else.
A sour ache twisted in her chest, and sorrow overwhelmed her.
Dazed, Liu Ruyan returned to Yuxiu Palace, where the plum trees stood tall and thriving.
A gust of wind stirred the branches. As her vision blurred, tears fell.
...
The palace children grew day by day. After Li Wan'er and Li Yao, Li Nanzhi too reached her coming-of-age ceremony—a grand celebration held in the harem.
Yuxiu Palace.
Liu Ruyan lay weakly in a chair, a book in her hands. Her face was pale, her eyes lifeless, like a hollow puppet.
A maid brought tea and cautiously asked, "Your Highness, today is Princess Nanzhi’s ceremony. All the consorts will attend—will you go?"
Liu Ruyan had lived like a recluse, rarely joining palace events. The maid didn’t expect her to attend—even though she was Li Nanzhi’s birth mother.
To her surprise, Liu Ruyan set down the Book of Songs and said softly, "I’ll take a look."
The maid was stunned.
Liu Ruyan rose to leave, but as she stepped over the threshold, she paused. She looked down at her plain white dress.
Li Nanzhi was blossoming into womanhood—a time of celebration.
Wearing mourning white wouldn’t do.
Under the maid’s astonished gaze, Liu Ruyan returned to her chamber and opened her wardrobe. Among the rows of simple robes, she selected a rarely worn lilac gown with an embroidered collar.
After changing, she called the maid.
"Prepare my hair and makeup."
