In early February, the most talked-about topics among the capital's citizens were the imperial palace's selection of concubines and the imperial examinations—two matters that were somewhat interconnected.
The list of successful candidates from the previous autumn’s provincial exams had already been finalized, and now, those who excelled in the palace examination would become jinshi, scholars with boundless futures.
Meanwhile, young women from across the country arrived in the capital to undergo a month of training at the temporary palace, where experienced palace matrons, well-versed in court etiquette and discipline, would instruct them. Under their guidance, the girls would be transformed—so much so that even those who failed to be selected as imperial consorts would still be highly sought after by noble families for marriage.
As a result, many influential families with daughters in the selection closely monitored the examination results, preparing to "catch a son-in-law under the rankings" once the results were announced.
News that the emperor had appointed Grand Councillor Yang Heng as the chief examiner for the palace examination also spread quickly.
In the Zhao Kingdom’s imperial examination system, the palace examination consisted of three sections: one on classical texts, another on policy discussions—both set by the examiners—and a third personally assigned by the emperor.
All successful candidates would be known as "disciples of the Son of Heaven" and would share a mentor-disciple bond with that year’s chief examiner.
In the future, when these jinshi became pillars of the court, they would form an invaluable network of connections!
Thus, the Yang Residence was soon bustling with visitors, as countless individuals came to pay their respects to Grand Councillor Yang.
People were fickle. Previously, they had mocked the saying "a new emperor brings new ministers," claiming that the Yang family was destined to decline. They sneered at Yang Heng for marrying his youngest daughter to Zeng Qiming, a man of butcher origins, tarnishing the dignity of noble families. But now, they praised Yang Heng for his foresight, free from class prejudice, and hailed him as a man of great tolerance—truly fit to oversee the selection of talent for the empire.
Gossip from the streets always reached the inner palace a little slower. By the time Qi Daiyu heard the news, it was already mid-February.
That day, Qin Saizhu came to see her, intending to invite her on a trip to the temporary palace.
"Why so sudden?" Qi Daiyu asked, puzzled.
Qin Saizhu’s brows furrowed slightly in frustration. "I didn’t expect it either. Earlier, the Empress had tasked me with overseeing the renovation of the temporary palace to accommodate the selected women. Everything was going smoothly—my attendant Lu Song even inspected it, and all seemed well. But yesterday, news came that a roof tile had fallen and injured one of the girls. The Empress ordered me to investigate and give them an explanation."
She had just come from the Kunning Palace.
"Originally, sending Lu Song would have been enough, but I sensed the Empress’s implication—this matter might not be so simple. My visit isn’t just about giving an explanation to the injured girl but also about sending a warning to the others."
There had been no strong winds or rain lately—how could a roof tile just fall on its own?
The girls’ every move was watched by the matrons, but since the matrons were mere servants, even if they noticed something amiss, they couldn’t reprimand the girls directly and had to report to the Empress instead.
With the training halfway over, reports from the temporary palace had been increasing. Now, with an injury, if word got out, outsiders might assume the palace lacked discipline. The Empress thus decided to send someone to investigate.
However, since these were only candidates for selection, sending a high-ranking consort like the Noble Consort or the Virtuous Consort would make the matter seem too serious, while sending a lower-ranking concubine might not command enough authority. Qin Saizhu, as the Noble Lady of Zhuang, held just the right rank and was responsible for the renovations, making her the logical choice.
Qin Saizhu knew this wouldn’t be easy. Among the girls were daughters of powerful families, and mishandling the situation could offend their influential relatives. Going alone might lead to accusations of bias, so she thought it best to bring someone else along—both for fairness and as a witness.
Besides, the trip would take at least three to five days, and the journey would be dull. That was why she thought of Qi Daiyu.
After consulting the Empress, who agreed—since Qi Daiyu was one of her people, having eyes and ears near Noble Lady Zhuang would be useful—Qin Saizhu came to Yanqing Residence to extend the invitation.
"It’s settled then. With you as the Noble Lady of Zhuang and me as the Graceful Lady of Hui, the palace servants at the temporary palace won’t dare misbehave."
"Don’t worry too much," Qin Saizhu said with a smile. "Think of it as a chance to leave the palace for a bit. Have you ever been to the Southern Mountain Temporary Palace? It’s quite beautiful, especially the bamboo shoots on the mountain—fresh, tender, and delicious. This is the perfect season for them."
Qi Daiyu shook her head. "You’ve been there before?"
"Once, back when I was still in the Eastern Palace." That had been years ago.
The Southern Mountain Temporary Palace was built sixty years ago by Emperor Shun for his mother, Empress Dowager Zhengjing. Nestled halfway up the mountain, it was serene and secluded. Later, it became the residence for retired imperial consorts and candidates for selection. Occasionally, the emperor would also bring his consorts there for short stays.
Qin Saizhu’s last visit had been as a consort of the Crown Prince.
Listening to her describe the palace’s scenery, Qi Daiyu’s reluctance to leave the palace faded somewhat. Though she preferred staying in, she also had moments of wanderlust—a contradiction in herself.
This trip was planned for seven days. This time, Qi Daiyu chose to bring Putao, Hongtao, and Xiao Chengzi, leaving Shiliu behind to oversee Yanqing Residence—a change from her last outing to the hunting grounds.
There was much to pack. Though the weather was warming, the Southern Mountain’s elevation meant chilly mornings and evenings, so warm clothing was a must. Jewelry and accessories also had to reflect the dignity of an imperial consort—as Qin Saizhu had emphasized.
Her exact words were: "Since we’re going to make an impression, we must dress the part. It’s also a way to showcase the majesty of the imperial family."
Among the girls were future imperial consorts—they couldn’t afford to be outshone. And if they dressed too plainly, the girls might assume life in the palace was less luxurious than their own homes, wondering if the consorts couldn’t even afford decent jewelry.
That would be a disgrace to the imperial household.
So Qi Daiyu rummaged through her belongings, laying out all her jewelry to pick the finest pieces.
Only then did she realize how little she had. The best pieces were those bestowed by the emperor after her "first night of service."
A consort’s jewelry either came from seasonal allowances (a few pieces every quarter), imperial or high-ranking consorts’ rewards, or custom orders from the Jewelry Office—paid for with her own silver.
In her previous years without favor, the emperor had never rewarded her, the Empress had no reason to, and the original owner of this body had been too frugal to commission any. Thus, all she had were the standard seasonal pieces.
"These will have to do." She picked out the emperor’s gifts—at least they were presentable—and sighed.
Life in the palace was a constant reminder of how crucial imperial favor was.
No matter how steady her mindset, the atmosphere here occasionally swayed her, making her wonder if she ought to strive for the emperor’s attention after all.
But the thought lingered—ever since that day at the hot springs, the Emperor hadn’t summoned her again, nor had he visited Yanqing Residence. It seemed he still didn’t value her much. If she wanted to compete for his favor, she’d have to swallow her pride and make the first move. Yet Qi Daiyu couldn’t bring herself to cross that line.
“Compete for what?!” She suddenly stood up, startling Grape, who was tidying up nearby.
“Mistress?”
“It’s nothing!” Qi Daiyu waved her off. “I’m going to bed!”
What Qi Daiyu didn’t know was that, at this very moment, the Emperor in Qianqing Palace was indeed thinking of her.
With state affairs finally settling into a manageable rhythm, Jiang Yuan found himself with some rare leisure.
He hadn’t visited the inner palace in a long while. If he delayed any longer, the Empress Dowager would surely come knocking in person.
The Office of Imperial Household Affairs presented the green-headed plaques for his selection. Jiang Yuan skimmed through them.
The Empress was preoccupied with the imperial consort selection and fretting over Lingyi. A visit to Kunning Palace would inevitably involve discussions of palace affairs—something he wasn’t in the mood for tonight.
He had recently promoted Yang Heng as chief examiner, and Consort Ning had been basking in the reflected glory these past few days. As for Consort Shu, she would undoubtedly pout and play coy. Normally, he’d indulge her whims, but tonight, he wasn’t in the mood to humor anyone.
Noble Consort Zhuang…
Jiang Yuan turned to Quan Fuhai. “Has Noble Consort Zhuang recovered?”
Quan Fuhai bowed. “She has, Your Majesty. However, an incident occurred at the retreat palace, and the Empress has dispatched Noble Consort Zhuang to handle it. She’s likely packing at Qixiang Palace at this moment.”
The unspoken implication: Noble Consort Zhuang was too busy to attend to him.
“What about Noble Consort Hui’s plaque?” Jiang Yuan asked, the image of another figure surfacing in his mind.
The eunuch of the Palace of Esteem stiffened. “…Noble Consort Hui was recently promoted. Her plaque hasn’t been prepared yet.”
Nonsense. Noble Consort Zhuang and Lady Cao’s plaques were right there!
Then it struck him—his own earlier decree.
The excuse about the plaque being unfinished was a lie, but his order to withhold Noble Consort Hui’s plaque was very much real.
Jiang Yuan: “…”
His thumb tapped lightly against the desk.
Ever since that day at the hot springs, Jiang Yuan had felt an odd discomfort.
The idea that one of his consorts didn’t hold him in her heart infuriated him as an emperor. Yet the teachings he’d absorbed also reminded him that no one could be universally adored.
Moreover, he knew full well that even if Qi Daiyu lacked romantic feelings for him, she wouldn’t dare harbor affection for another—nor would she ever disrespect him.
Jiang Yuan had initially told himself that with so many consorts, what did one Noble Consort Hui matter? Ignoring her was simple.
His earlier teasing had stemmed from an unfamiliar sense of defeat. Once his anger subsided, he’d surely feel nothing toward her again.
But that day at Chengguang Palace, in the Mandarin Duck Pool, he had lost control in a way he never had before.
Jiang Yuan prided himself on his discipline—he was diligent, never indulgent, and even his fondness for Consort Shu hadn’t made him overly passionate in intimate matters. Yet when Qi Daiyu fainted that day, a flicker of regret had pierced through him…
In idle moments since then, Jiang Yuan had even questioned himself—had he developed some bizarre fixation? Her resistance, her tension, the unguarded moments when her true emotions slipped through—somehow, these only deepened his fascination.
Such thoughts felt disturbingly akin to the obsessions of twisted, deranged minds…
The Emperor’s absent tapping was merely a sign of contemplation, but to Quan Fuhai and the others, it was terrifying silence.
The eunuch from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices trembled under the weight of the tray until, at last, he collapsed to his knees with a thud.
As the sound echoed, the eunuch paled, thinking: If I survive this, I’ll have Noble Consort Hui’s plaque made ten times over! Never again will I obey an order to remove it!
The noise snapped Jiang Yuan out of his thoughts. He waved a hand. “Dismissed.”
Huh? No punishment?
The eunuch’s relief was short-lived. “Your Majesty, then… the plaques?”
If the Emperor skipped the inner palace again tonight, the Empress Dowager would have his head tomorrow. Was his life still forfeit?
Then, to his shock, the Emperor rose. “Prepare the carriage for Yanqing Residence.”
He was the sovereign of an empire—how could being his consort be any sort of slight to Noble Consort Hui?
So what if her heart didn’t belong to him? She was his, regardless.
Jiang Yuan decided he’d been too lenient. Why bother with another’s feelings? His own satisfaction was all that mattered.
