Entering the territory of Southern Chu, the carriage did not slow its pace. Shen Wei was not idle either, dutifully taking her medicine daily to recuperate, and in her spare time, she lifted the carriage curtain to observe the lives of Southern Chu’s people.
Southern Chu had suffered years of civil war, leaving its citizens in hardship. After Li Yuanli secured the throne with ruthless efficiency, he implemented a series of reforms, executing most of the corrupt officials and local tyrants. Gradually, Southern Chu regained its vitality, and the people’s lives improved.
Perhaps influenced by Southern Chu’s founding empress, the people were open-minded, adventurous, and admired strength. Southern Chu merchants were numerous, conducting business far and wide, spreading across the continent like blooming flowers.
The carriage traveled along the official road toward the imperial capital, Lijing. Inside, Shen Wei savored Southern Chu’s specialty fermented rice dumplings while questioning the palace maid walking outside: “I’ve heard there’s a massive statue of Guanyin along the southern coast—is that true? How big is it?”
The maid, named Caizhu, had been assigned by Li Yuanli to attend to Shen Wei.
Throughout the journey, Shen Wei bombarded Caizhu with endless questions, like a traveler newly arrived in a foreign land, curious about everything.
Caizhu was nearly exhausted from answering.
With a blank expression, Caizhu replied, “My lady, it is true—the ancient Guanyin statue stands by the southern sea. A century ago, when the empress fell gravely ill, her consort commissioned the statue to pray for her recovery. It stands sixty feet tall and, after numerous restorations over the years, still stands firm by the shore.”
Shen Wei clicked her tongue. “That consort was quite devoted.”
She then asked, “What’s fun or delicious in Lijing? What kind of storybooks are popular there? Are there any shops from Qing State in the capital?”
Caizhu: “...”
Shen Wei’s relentless questioning had nearly drained Caizhu’s voice.
Caizhu couldn’t understand why the emperor, a decisive and peerless warrior, would personally travel thousands of miles to retrieve a mere fisher girl from the eastern shores.
The palace wasn’t lacking in beauties.
Her gaze fell on Shen Wei’s sun-darkened face, and she inwardly sighed. This fisher girl’s plain looks couldn’t even compare to the palace maids—had the emperor’s tastes shifted to favor such homely women?
Suppressing her thoughts, Caizhu continued, “My lady, Lijing is Southern Chu’s most prosperous city, rivaling Qing State’s Yanjing. Currently, the most popular...”
Caizhu answered patiently.
Shen Wei listened attentively, nodding frequently.
Looking at Shen Wei’s unremarkable face, Caizhu noted her youthful appearance—barely fifteen or sixteen, naive and guileless. Once she entered the palace, she would undoubtedly become a target for the concubines.
Out of kindness, Caizhu warned her, “My lady, once you enter the inner palace, you’ll likely be granted the rank of Jieyu—or perhaps Noble Consort if you’re fortunate. Remember, aside from His Majesty, there are two people you must never offend.”
Shen Wei took a sip of Southern Chu’s delicate tea, raising a brow with a smile. “Oh? Who are they?”
Caizhu’s expression turned grave, her eyes pitying. “One is Consort Tuoba, and the other… the Ninth Prince.”
Years ago, after Li Yuanli seized the throne with an iron fist, his harem was filled with concubines. Yet none had ever held his particular favor—women were mere playthings to him.
That changed over a decade ago, during the royal family’s internal strife. The chancellor’s daughter, Lady Tuoba, had thrown herself before Li Yuanli to block an assassin’s blade. After quelling the rebellion, he enfeoffed her as Consort Tuoba, and she gradually solidified her position as the harem’s undisputed ruler.
Now that Li Yuanli had personally left the capital to bring Shen Wei back, news had already spread through the palace. Once Shen Wei entered the inner court, she would undoubtedly face Consort Tuoba’s torment.
Shen Wei rested her chin on her hand. “And the Ninth Prince?”
At the mention of him, a flicker of fear crossed Caizhu’s face. Before she could answer, the sound of guards kneeling in unison echoed ahead.
Caizhu immediately dropped to her knees.
Li Yuanli had arrived.
He lifted the carriage curtain and stepped inside, a faint smile in his eyes. “I’ll accompany you into the palace.”
Shen Wei countered, “What if I don’t want to enter? Can you just lock me up somewhere in Lijing instead?”
Li Yuanli chuckled. “No.”
Shen Wei fell silent.
The carriage rolled slowly along the imperial road into the towering grandeur of Southern Chu’s palace. Shen Wei kept her head down, sipping tea, while Li Yuanli studied her face. “You’ve spent this journey eating and drinking quite freely.”
Shen Wei didn’t behave like a prisoner—more like a tourist in Southern Chu, sampling its delicacies along the way.
Her fingers traced the rim of the teacup as she said calmly, “A day spent crying is no different from a day spent laughing. How I live depends entirely on me.”
Since she couldn’t die yet, she might as well treat it as a trip.
Li Yuanli laughed softly. This was the Shen Wei he remembered.
As the carriage entered the palace grounds, the skies—clouded for days—suddenly cleared. The sunlight bathed the imperial city in a rare warmth, softening its usual oppressive aura.
With Shen Wei’s arrival, even the gloomy heavens had brightened.
Li Yuanli thought to himself: Even if Shen Wei was not a flower meant for this era, he would force her to take root in this soil.
...
...
Li Yuanli had arranged for Shen Wei to reside in Changle Palace—the traditional dwelling of Southern Chu’s empresses.
The palace walls loomed high, attended by twenty maids and eunuchs. The courtyard was resplendent, filled with vibrant roses.
Shen Wei’s gaze landed on the roses, and the corner of her mouth twitched.
She hated roses.
After touring Changle Palace with Shen Wei, Li Yuanli left to attend to state affairs. Alone on the lavish throne, Shen Wei stared at the sea of bowing servants, feeling as though she’d been locked in a gilded cage.
“Prepare a bath and fresh clothes,” she said, pressing a finger to her temple.
Her tone was mild, yet carried an authority that brooked no disobedience.
The servants exchanged startled glances but hurried to obey.
Caizhu brought tea, inwardly shocked. Throughout the journey, she hadn’t taken Shen Wei seriously—just another passing fancy of the emperor’s.
Yet now, he had placed her in Changle Palace!
A century ago, Changle Palace had been the residence of Southern Chu’s empress and her consort. Since then, it had become the exclusive palace of successive empresses.
Could the emperor truly intend to make a fisher girl his empress?
Shen Wei took a sip of tea and ordered, “Have someone uproot the roses in the courtyard. Replace them with other flowers.”
Caizhu hesitated. “My lady, the roses were planted by His Majesty. They cannot be removed.”
Shen Wei glanced at her.
That light, almost careless look pierced Caizhu like a blade, reminding her eerily of Consort Tuoba.
How could a mere fisher girl step into the palace and suddenly carry such an aura?
In the end, Caizhu had no choice but to seek an audience with Li Yuanli. To her surprise, the usually stern emperor merely smiled and said, “Let her do as she wishes.”
