Consort Ning’s face turned deathly pale.
She clearly hadn’t expected her family affairs to be exposed in public, and for a moment, she was visibly flustered. But she quickly composed herself.
Her gaze, filled with fury, locked onto Concubine Shu. "These are my family matters. They are not suitable for public discussion."
Concubine Shu had no reason to fear her, especially with Concubine Mei standing by, always eager to stir the pot.
Concubine Mei chuckled. "But precisely because it concerns Consort Ning’s family, we should show our concern. I’ve heard that Lord Zeng is already thirty-eight this year? At that age, he must be quite… doting. I wonder which young lady from the Yang Residence is so fortunate?"
She spoke of "fortune," but the others could only force stiff smiles. A marriage between an old man and a young girl—what fortune was there in that?
Consort An interjected, "Chancellor Yang has only one son and two daughters. It must be Second Lady Yang, who’s barely fifteen this year."
Second Lady Yang?
Qi Daiyu immediately recalled the fleeting glimpse she’d caught of the girl at the hunting grounds.
"That ethereal beauty?" Concubine Cao blurted out, seemingly too shocked to hold back.
Concubine Shu, who had missed the hunting trip, had never seen Yang Luoniang. She asked, "Is Second Lady Yang truly so beautiful? Why haven’t we heard of her reputation in the capital?"
She turned to Zhaorong. "Have you ever seen her?"
Zhaorong shook her head. "Lady Yang rarely attends social gatherings, and on the few occasions she does, she never brings Second Lady Yang."
Among the noble daughters of their age, there had been whispers about Yang Luoniang—was she hideous or sickly, that her mother kept her hidden?
But judging by Concubine Cao’s reaction, Yang Luoniang must be stunning.
Zhaorong pursed her lips, skeptical. She assumed Concubine Cao was exaggerating.
Concubine Cao glanced at Consort Ning and nodded. "I saw her with my own eyes. She lives up to her name—a beauty rivaling the goddess of the Luo River. Consort Hui saw her that day too, didn’t she?"
Qi Daiyu, suddenly named, had no choice but to nod.
Yang Luoniang’s beauty was indeed extraordinary.
Concubine Shu raised an eyebrow. Proud of her own unmatched looks, she felt a flicker of curiosity about the girl who had earned such high praise. At the same time, her gaze toward Consort Ning grew even more peculiar.
The Yang family was truly baffling. Marrying off their fifteen-year-old daughter to a crude old man was one thing, but to do so when the girl possessed such striking beauty? With looks like that, why not send her to the palace? If she could win the Emperor’s favor, the Yang family’s fortunes would surely improve.
This thought wasn’t unique to Concubine Shu. The other consorts harbored similar doubts, unable to fathom why the Yangs would stoop to such an undignified arrangement.
Under the weight of their scrutinizing gazes, Consort Ning could no longer sit still. Her expression darkened. "Gossiping behind others’ backs is unbecoming of noble ladies. I will report this to the Empress and see that you are disciplined according to palace rules."
She rose. "I have matters to attend to. I take my leave."
Though Consort Ning had stormed off, no one was intimidated. Even if she reported them to the Empress, the worst they’d face was a brief reprimand. The marriage between the Yang and Zeng families was public knowledge—if commoners could discuss it, why couldn’t they? Did Consort Ning expect to silence everyone?
As for whether Consort Ning would hold a grudge—well, that was hardly a concern. Everyone knew she had no favor with the Emperor.
Watching Consort Ning’s retreating figure, Concubine Shu smirked and urged Concubine Cao to continue her tale of Yang Luoniang.
Meanwhile, as Consort Ning reached the gates of Yikun Palace, her maid Yang Xue hurried forward. "Your Highness, Lady Yang has arrived."
Lady Yang had requested an audience with the Empress earlier that day before making her way to Yikun Palace.
Consort Ning paused, a flicker of fear and shame crossing her face before resolve hardened her features.
"I know." She had anticipated her mother’s visit.
Entering the hall, Consort Ning dismissed her attendants. The moment the doors closed, a sharp slap struck her face.
She bore the blow without flinching, her cheek stinging as she met her mother’s eyes.
Lady Yang trembled, tears welling as she pointed an accusing finger. "Ungrateful child!"
Consort Ning took a deep breath, calmly walking to the table to pour herself tea. She drained the cup in one gulp.
"Mother exaggerates. ‘Ungrateful’ is too grave an accusation. I dare not accept it."
"Dare not? You’ve already dared to act! Yang Minzhen, Luoniang is your own sister! How could you—how could you—?" Lady Yang’s voice broke with anguish.
When she learned of her youngest daughter’s betrothal to Zeng Qiming, she had fallen ill from rage. Today, she had dragged herself to the palace to demand answers from her eldest.
"Why not? Lord Zeng is unwed, and Luoniang is of marriageable age. What’s improper about their match?"
Lady Yang’s voice shook. "He’s over twenty years her senior! Zeng Qiming is nearly your father’s age! Luoniang is young and innocent, a flower in full bloom. Why would you push her into such a den of wolves?"
Consort Ning’s eyes turned icy. "Then what kind of husband would you choose for her, Mother? A prince? A duke? Or perhaps—a place in the imperial harem? Was my sacrifice not enough? Or am I so useless in your eyes, having failed to win the Emperor’s favor, that you now pin your hopes on Luoniang to take my place?"
Seeing her mother’s single-minded defense of her sister, Consort Ning could no longer suppress her bitterness.
"Mother, how cruel you are! I am Minzhen, and she is Luoniang. From the moment I could remember, you drilled discipline into me. How many times was my hand struck with the cane? How many nights did I kneel for failing to perfect my calligraphy? How many meals did I miss for stumbling over a musical score? Why must I be the mature one while she remains coddled?"
She clenched her fists. "Or perhaps you aren’t biased at all. Perhaps you simply realized too late that the way you raised me was wrong—that the Emperor doesn’t favor women like me. So you molded Luoniang into my opposite."
"Tell me, Mother. Did you come today out of love for Luoniang—or because I ruined your plans?"
"You—!" Lady Yang raised her hand again, but Consort Ning stood firm, refusing to dodge.
The second slap never came.
Lady Yang wavered, unsettled. Her daughter’s words had struck a nerve. She had indeed considered sending Luoniang to the palace. To her, it was a sensible strategy.
"You’ve been by His Majesty’s side for years without bearing a child. With the imperial selection approaching, if we don’t act, how will he remember you? You need an ally—who better than your own sister?"
She directly exposed Consort Ning’s inner thoughts, "But you’re afraid of Luoniang entering the palace. You know that with her beauty, even if the Emperor dislikes the Yang family, he wouldn’t be able to ignore her. You’re terrified. You’re jealous. So you pushed her toward a despicable man! Have you ever considered what face the Yang family would have left in the capital if our legitimate daughter were to marry a lowly village butcher? How would your father face his colleagues?"
Consort Ning defended herself, "Does Father truly wish to bear the disgrace of having two daughters serve the same man?"
"Mother, surely you don’t think this was a decision I could make alone? Without Father’s approval, how would I dare mention it to the Emperor? Though Lord Zeng is older, the Emperor currently relies on him—his future is boundless. Father has been under the Emperor’s suspicion, sidelined and powerless, searching for a way out of this predicament. Marrying Luoniang to Lord Zeng is the best solution!"
Once a powerful chancellor, Yang Heng had now been reduced to a mere figurehead in the court. How could he not resent it? He was no fool—he knew the Emperor sought reform and had been desperate to shed the label of the "old faction." But his political enemies were relentless, and opportunities were scarce.
Sending another daughter into the palace might not resolve the Yang family’s plight. Instead, it would only invite ridicule, with outsiders mocking Yang Heng for relying on his daughters for favor. Worse, it might deepen the Emperor’s displeasure.
But betrothing his daughter to Zeng Qiming, a man the Emperor trusted, was an entirely different matter.
Zeng Qiming was a staunch reformist. With this marriage alliance, Chancellor Yang could seamlessly switch sides.
So when Consort Ning proposed the idea, Yang Heng didn’t hesitate long before agreeing.
Consort Ning believed her plan was flawless—it resolved the Yang family’s crisis and eased the Emperor’s troubles. Lord Zeng had long desired a noble bride, yet few great families in the capital were willing. The Emperor had been vexed over this for some time.
After she merely hinted at the possibility, the Emperor entrusted her with overseeing the Laba Festival preparations—proof enough of his support.
Once she and her father finalized the arrangement, she invited the Emperor to Yikun Palace to explain the matter. As expected, he was pleased.
Not long after, Zeng Qiming came to propose—clearly acting on the Emperor’s orders.
This scheme benefited all parties. The only one sacrificed was Luoniang. Yet Consort Ning refused to see it as a sacrifice.
"So you’re willing to let your sister become a widower’s second wife? Aren’t you afraid she’ll hate you for the rest of her life?" Lady Yang demanded.
Consort Ning replied coolly, "His first wife is long dead. Being a second wife is no different from being the first. Why would Luoniang resent me? When Lord Zeng rises in rank and she becomes a duchess one day, she might even thank me."
Seeing not an ounce of remorse in her, Lady Yang’s chest heaved, her vision darkening with fury. It took her a long moment to steady herself.
When she finally looked at Consort Ning again, her gaze held none of a mother’s warmth—only the detachment of a stranger.
"You heartless, unfilial creature. I pray you never regret this."
Consort Ning remained silent.
"Today, this subject spoke out of turn in her agitation. Your Highness must forgive me. Since Your Highness harbors such lofty ambitions, I shall wish you a smooth ascent—may all your desires come true."
Lady Yang left. Yang Xue quietly entered the chamber, only to find her usually composed mistress in tears, her right cheek bearing a stark red mark.
Yang Xue approached. "Mistress, shall this servant fetch warm water to soothe your face?"
Consort Ning shook her head. "Leave."
At this moment, she wanted no company—no one to witness her humiliation.
Lady Yang’s accusations still rang in her ears.
"You’re afraid. You’re jealous. You don’t dare let Luoniang enter the palace."
Consort Ning covered her eyes.
She could remain composed if Concubine Shu, Concubine Mei, or any other woman gained the Emperor’s favor.
But if that woman were Luoniang…
The mere thought of everyone mocking her, sneering that she could never compare to Luoniang—even the Emperor valuing Luoniang more—made her chest tighten until she could scarcely breathe.
If Luoniang surpassed her, what had all her years of effort been for?
To be utterly eclipsed was an outcome Consort Ning could not accept.
"Luoniang… don’t blame your sister. Don’t blame me," she whispered.
She consoled herself—Lord Zeng’s future was bright. Luoniang would surely find happiness. She had to.
