At the southern market street of the capital, Qi Caishang went to Boss Zhu’s stall as usual to buy a few ounces of meat and casually helped himself to some offal.
But this time, Boss Zhu was all smiles, showing no trace of impatience. His attitude toward Qi Caishang was downright reverent, addressing him repeatedly as "Master Qi" and even trying to waive the payment for the meat.
Qi Caishang, however, shoved the broken silver into Boss Zhu’s arms. "Old Zhu, even if I found your eldest daughter a good husband, you can’t just refuse my money! People will think I’m bullying common folks!"
As he spoke, he picked out even more offal, his sleazy demeanor clashing starkly with his refined, scholarly appearance.
Boss Zhu chuckled warmly. "This pork blood is tender—take more!" he called out loudly, adding for the benefit of onlookers, "It’s just scraps nobody wants, hardly worth anything. Consider it a treat!"
His eldest daughter, now twenty-two, had yet to marry, and the whole family was desperate. When Qi Caishang heard of their plight, he assured them he’d handle it.
Boss Zhu hadn’t believed him at first.
Everyone in the neighborhood knew Qi Caishang—though they respectfully called him "Sir," longtime residents were well aware he was nothing but a scoundrel, saved only by his handsome face. Some bolder gossips even whispered that officials only needed good looks to get ahead, claiming the Emperor had given Qi Caishang his post purely for his appearance.
Of course, ordinary folk knew little of court affairs. In truth, Qi Caishang had never even met the Emperor—he’d passed the provincial exams but, deeming himself unready, skipped the palace exams and waited for an official appointment. Luck favored him, and he was soon assigned to the Imperial Academy as an assistant director.
In short, Boss Zhu had doubted Qi Caishang could find his daughter a decent match.
Yet just days later, Qi Caishang brought a young man to meet Boss Zhu.
Twenty-four, unmarried, owner of a modest house, with only a younger sister—already betrothed—to care for. The young man was an apprentice craftsman under the Ministry of Works, set to join the department officially once his training was complete. He was also good-looking and free of any hidden ailments.
The reason for his late marriage was no mystery. He’d once been engaged, but his father suddenly fell ill and died, followed by his mother’s grave illness, requiring costly medicine to sustain her. As the family was in mourning, the bride’s family had to wait—but if, after three years, his mother also passed, they’d face another three-year delay. Unwilling to let their daughter grow old waiting, and seeing the groom’s family drained by medical expenses, they called off the engagement.
Thus, the young man remained single.
Qi Caishang explained, "His father passed a year before his mother. The mourning period is over now, and his sister’s wedding is set for after the New Year. That’s the situation—if your family approves, I think it’s worth considering."
After learning the details, Boss Zhu was ready to seal the match on the spot.
No elders to serve, no younger siblings to support, and the only sister soon to be married off—his daughter would be mistress of her own home from day one! Moreover, the groom was a skilled craftsman, a step up from a humble market vendor. Boss Zhu could hardly believe such a man would consider his daughter.
But Qi Caishang thumped his chest. "I wouldn’t have brought him if it wasn’t settled. It’s just your approval left."
And so, the marriage was arranged.
Boss Zhu, overjoyed with his new son-in-law, was genuinely grateful to Qi Caishang.
Carrying the extra offal gifted by Boss Zhu, Qi Caishang strolled home cheerfully. Life had been good lately—he’d secured a fine match for his unmarried subordinate, who cared little for looks or background, wanting only a fertile wife to expand his small family. Boss Zhu’s wife had borne six children, and their sturdy daughter fit the bill perfectly.
Thanks to this, Qi Caishang—initially seen as a nepotism hire—quickly won his subordinates’ loyalty. When his own daughter later secured work for the craftsmen’s department, ensuring steady income, their admiration for him grew even stronger.
Arriving home, he handed the meat to Mrs. Wan and, noticing her uncharacteristic lack of scolding for his extravagance, asked curiously, "What’s put you in such high spirits?"
Mrs. Wan waved a servant to the kitchen and pulled a letter from her sleeve. "A letter from Chuchu!"
Qi Caishang took it, opening it as he asked, "Has the old lady seen it yet?"
Mrs. Wan nodded. "Of course I showed her first. Qinglong read it to her—she was so delighted she’s gone next door to gossip."
Qi Qinglong, the youngest daughter at nine, knew some characters. Mrs. Wan liked having her read letters aloud, considering it good practice. Paper and ink were expensive, after all!
"And Qinglong? Where is she?"
Mrs. Wan shrugged. "Probably next door playing cat’s cradle with her little friend."
Qi Caishang grumbled. "She’s not so young anymore. We ought to keep her closer—there’s a half-grown boy next door."
Mrs. Wan rolled her eyes. "You’d think our daughter was some highborn lady, forbidden to step outside. This house is tiny—if she doesn’t go out, she’ll suffocate!"
They weren’t nobility. What need for such strict rules?
"My girl may not be a princess, but she’s got a sister in the imperial harem! Mark my words—I’ll choose Qinglong’s husband carefully. It’s your job to raise her properly, so when I find a good match, he won’t look down on our family. Don’t come crying to me then!"
He had his eye on the future. The neighbors might covet a match, but their dull, clumsy son was no fit husband for a daughter of Qi Caishang!
He turned to his son’s letter.
After the New Year, Qi Chuchu and his wife Lang Tianyu had left for Yunnan Guard, taking two months to arrive and settle before sending this letter, which only just arrived.
Mostly, it described the local customs and terrain. His father-in-law had enlisted him as a common soldier, which he enjoyed despite the humble rank. He also sent greetings to the family.
Qi Caishang nodded approvingly. He wasn’t upset by the modest position—he knew his son. Aside from inheriting his mother’s strength, the boy had little else going for him. He was no strategist and knew nothing of warfare. Throwing him into military training was exactly right.
Besides, his in-laws wouldn’t leave him as a foot soldier forever. There were surely greater plans ahead.
When Qi Caishang was reading the letter, Mrs. Wan beside him pondered his earlier words. Though she appeared rough around the edges, she had always been sharp-witted beneath the surface. After mulling over Qi Caishang's tone for a while, she tentatively asked, "Has something auspicious happened to our Yu'er in the palace?"
Otherwise, Qi Caishang wouldn’t have spoken so boastfully.
Mrs. Wan felt both excited and uneasy, wondering whether their eldest daughter had been promoted in rank or was with child. A pregnancy would be wonderful—after several years in the palace, having a child to rely on would secure her future. Oh dear, she was already of an age to become a grandmother!
Qi Caishang folded the letter neatly. "No!"
"No?" Mrs. Wan flared up. "Then why did you say such things?"
Qi Caishang raised an eyebrow. "What did I say? I never mentioned Yu'er. You’re the one jumping to conclusions." He wouldn’t admit that his sharp mind had already deduced Qi Daiyu must be doing well in the palace when she requested materials and unhesitatingly provided a hundred taels of silver.
But this wasn’t something he could share with Mrs. Wan. Women couldn’t keep secrets—what if she accidentally ruined Yu'er’s plans?
Mrs. Wan didn’t believe him. After decades of marriage, they knew each other too well.
"What exactly did the letter say? Did Yu'er send a message? Give it to me—I’ll read it myself!" She reached for Qi Caishang’s clothes to search for the letter.
He stopped her. "There is no letter! Just a verbal message."
"It said the palace is sending out a maid and asked me to keep an eye on her." That was all he had received earlier that day—just a single, cryptic sentence.
"Watch a palace maid?" Mrs. Wan’s mind raced. "Maids who leave the palace either age out of service or are expelled for misconduct." Anxious, she tugged at Qi Caishang’s sleeve. "Has Yu'er run into trouble in the palace?"
A mother’s greatest fear was her daughter suffering. Ordinary families could at least visit, but she couldn’t even see her own child—sending messages was difficult enough. Whether her daughter was well or not, she could only guess.
"Probably not. The eunuch who delivered the message didn’t seem worried. If Yu'er were in trouble, he wouldn’t have been so calm. I suspect the maid must know something Yu'er wants to uncover."
Mrs. Wan trusted Qi Caishang’s judgment. Though unreliable in trivial matters, he was steady in important ones.
Steadying herself, she said, "If Yu'er sent word, this maid must be significant. Our family can’t offer her much support, but keeping watch on someone? That’s simple."
She immediately urged Qi Caishang, "Why are you still here? Go wait by the palace gates! What if the maid is released today? If you ruin our daughter’s plans, you’ll be sleeping on the floor from now on!"
Qi Caishang scoffed, "It won’t be that quick!" But he was still shoved out the door.
For three days, the Qi family took turns staking out the palace gates. During the day, while Qi Caishang was at the Construction Office, Mrs. Wan and the old lady took shifts, carrying a bamboo basket filled with handmade silk flowers to blend in with street vendors. At night, Qi Caishang took over, chatting with passersby and merchants until curfew.
On the third evening, just before curfew, as Qi Caishang was about to head home, he spotted the palace gates creaking open slightly. A limping maid, carrying a bundle on her back, emerged.
Since she was the only maid released in three days, she had to be the one his daughter mentioned. Qi Caishang didn’t follow immediately—he waited until she was far enough ahead to avoid suspicion before trailing her.
Passing a vendor selling plum wine, he bought a jug and poured it over himself. The old man chuckled, "Running late, sir? Got a fierce wife waiting?"
Qi Caishang grinned without answering. The brief delay put more distance between him and the maid. Then, suddenly, he noticed several figures slipping out of an alley, also heading in her direction.
Startled, he tossed coins to the vendor and staggered drunkenly after them, blending into the crowd rushing home before curfew.
He didn’t return until the next morning, reeking so badly that Mrs. Wan, who had rushed out at the noise, nearly gagged.
"Where have you been? What happened to you?" She hadn’t slept all night, fearing the worst.
"Don’t worry about me," Qi Caishang said, heading straight to wash up. "Pack your things—take the old lady and Long'er back to the village. Say she dreamed of Father and wants to stay a few days." Lowering his voice, he added, "Take all our silver. If anything happens, stay quiet."
His rare seriousness told Mrs. Wan something was wrong. Their ancestral home was just outside the capital, a half-day’s journey. Had he gone there last night? Her hands trembled, but she asked no questions, hurrying to the old lady’s room.
Meanwhile, Qi Caishang had servants heat water for a bath and fresh clothes—he still had to report to the Construction Office.
Inside the palace, the atmosphere remained somber following Concubine Mei’s miscarriage. Rumor had it the Emperor had flown into a rage upon hearing the news after the imperial examinations, terrifying everyone in the Hall of Mental Cultivation until the Empress intervened to calm him.
Soon after, an edict was issued: once Concubine Mei recovered, she was to recite sutras at Baohua Temple for a hundred days to atone for deceiving the Emperor and pray for the lost child’s soul. To the Emperor, an heir outweighed any concubine, and since the miscarriage resulted largely from Concubine Mei’s own carelessness—disregarding medical advice—the light punishment was already lenient.
Though heartbroken, Concubine Mei accepted the duty, willing to suffer for her poor child’s sake.
In Jingren Palace, Concubine Mei lay listlessly in bed while Luhui held a bowl of medicine, pleading in vain. Tears streamed silently down Concubine Mei’s cheeks.
Learning that her own actions had caused the miscarriage filled her with regret.
"When I was a girl at home, my aunt once said that pregnant women must eat well and nourish themselves so the child grows strong. My baby brother was frail as a kitten at birth… he only lived three months. I didn’t want my child to be that weak," she murmured.
She had believed the tonics bestowed by the Emperor and Empress—the finest in the land—could only benefit her unborn child.
"They say my ignorance killed my baby. They’re right… it’s all my fault, all my foolishness…" Concubine Mei came from humble origins, and the lavish gifts showered upon her during pregnancy had dazzled her. She saw her child as the key to her future glory, blinded by the splendor she had never known before.
She couldn’t accept the loss of this guarantee, so the moment she noticed the bleeding, Concubine Mei’s first thought was to conceal it. At the time, she comforted herself—it was just a little spotting, likely caused by her excessive movements earlier in the day. She felt no abdominal pain or other discomfort, and she believed resting for a couple of days would ensure everything would be fine.
But she never expected…
Seeing Concubine Mei’s state, Luhui’s eyes also reddened, yet she didn’t know how to console her. This matter involved the imperial heir, so no one dared to speak openly, but behind closed doors, she could only imagine the ridicule her mistress faced. What troubled Luhui most was the fear that the Emperor might turn his back on Concubine Mei because of this.
A rustling sound came from behind, and Luhui turned her head.
“Concubine Cao, you’ve come.”
Concubine Cao wore a light-colored gown, her face free of makeup, her eyes swollen and shadowed with exhaustion. She took the medicinal broth from Luhui’s hands and sat by the bed.
“Concubine Mei, what’s done is done. Why torment yourself further?”
Concubine Mei remained motionless, tears still streaming down her face. “Have you come to mock me? You’ve seen how I am now—no doubt the entire harem is laughing at me. Even I think I’m a fool.”
Concubine Cao stirred the medicine with a spoon, her gaze lowered.
She hadn’t come to mock Concubine Mei. She was here for herself.
No one else knew, but Concubine Mei was aware of certain things she had said. Though Concubine Mei’s intellect made it unlikely she’d detect the deliberate manipulation in her words, it was better to be safe than sorry.
What if, in her grief over losing the child, Concubine Mei suddenly became lucid and recalled their past conversations? Like the time before Concubine Mei slapped Consort Wei, when she had remarked, “Consort Wei is so insolent—does she rely on her youth and beauty to act so boldly?”
Or the day after their morning greetings, when they were alone, and she had said, “Her Majesty only has your best interests at heart. You’ve gained a little weight recently, and it’ll be hard to shed later. Listen to me—drink this one last time, and unless the imperial physician prescribes it, don’t touch that donkey-hide gelatin and angelica soup again.”
If Concubine Mei grew suspicious, she might start pointing fingers.
Concubine Cao had come today to minimize that possibility.
She spoke slowly, “Sister, you blame yourself, but are others truly blameless? You hid this from the imperial physicians out of fear that His Majesty would withdraw his favor. But with Luhui and Zhi Zi attending to you day and night, how long could it stay hidden? Once they found out, they would have urged you to inform Her Majesty the Empress—perhaps the child could have been saved.”
“Besides, while the physicians said your fiery temper made you prone to agitation, none of the palace sisters provoked you knowingly. If you hadn’t been given a reason to rage, would the bleeding have happened? In my opinion, the root of all this lies with that insolent Consort Wei! If she hadn’t angered you that day, none of this would have followed.”
People naturally shirk responsibility for their mistakes, and for someone as prideful as Concubine Mei, accepting that she alone had caused this tragedy was unbearable. Her pain stemmed less from regret and more from resentment. Now, Concubine Cao was telling her—yes, she bore some blame, but Consort Wei was equally guilty of killing the child in her womb!
A glimmer of life returned to Concubine Mei’s eyes. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Like a drowning woman clutching at a lifeline, she seized Concubine Cao’s hand. “You’re right—Consort Wei! If she hadn’t defied me, I wouldn’t have been so enraged! It’s all Consort Wei’s fault…”
Concubine Cao winced at the pain but endured it silently. As she watched Concubine Mei hysterically shift all blame onto Consort Wei, guilt gnawed at her—because she was the true culprit.
She had no favor with the Emperor, no influential family backing her. She refused to end up like Consort Ma, forgotten and discarded. She couldn’t bear another moment like that day in the Western Garden, when the Emperor had ignored her superior ice-skating skills to patiently teach Consort Hui instead.
In this palace, she had no protector—she had to forge her own path.
Concubine Shu was the shelter she had chosen.
But when she expressed her allegiance, Concubine Shu’s first demand was clear: eliminate the child in Concubine Mei’s womb.
Without hesitation, Concubine Cao agreed.
Truthfully, she had long despised Concubine Mei. Sharing the Jingren Palace, no one understood her loathing better. Yet she had to endure, even feigning friendship. There had been moments of hesitation, but they vanished the day she overheard Concubine Mei mocking her to Luhui: “She’s such a dull, plain thing—no wonder the Emperor doesn’t favor her.”
Concubine Mei’s downfall was well-deserved, Concubine Cao told herself.
Meanwhile, in Yanqing Residence, after Shiliu and Putao’s discreet investigation, everything appeared normal—except for the discovery of the young eunuch Qin Saizhu had mentioned. He was a sweeper from the western side hall of Changchun Palace. Qi Daiyu had Xiao Li lure him away while Little Cheng searched his quarters, uncovering a packet of oleander powder.
Though it was unclear how the eunuch planned to use it, one thing was certain: someone was trying to frame Qi Daiyu.
She chose not to expose this, instructing Little Cheng to return the powder untouched, pretending ignorance. A minor eunuch could be dealt with later—she’d find an excuse to report him to the Empress and have him removed.
Coincidentally, after her promotion to Consort Hui, Yanqing Residence was due for additional staff. She had declined at the time, but now she could use this as grounds to replace personnel in other vacant halls of Changchun Palace.
This plot didn’t surprise her. What did was the message Qi Caishang had sent that morning—a mere four words:
“Breath remains, Apricot Grove.”
After Little Cheng relayed this, Qi Daiyu stared blankly for a long moment, utterly baffled.
Was her cheap father overestimating their tacit understanding?
After much pondering, she deciphered Qi Caishang’s meaning.
She had asked him to monitor Suo’er after the maid left the palace, checking for contact with Consort An’s family or the Yuans. His reply must pertain to Suo’er’s condition.
“Breath remains” suggested Suo’er was alive but barely clinging to life—otherwise, he’d have said “healthy.”
“Apricot Grove” was a reference to physicians, implying Qi Caishang had arranged medical treatment.
Translating his terse style, Qi Daiyu interpreted: “She’s on death’s door. I hired a doctor. Send money.”
Qi Daiyu: “…”
She chuckled at her own translation.
But her mood quickly turned somber.
After discovering the clues in the surveillance footage that day, she had asked Putao to keep an eye on Suo'er's whereabouts.
Though Suo'er had been punished with a beating, she had only concealed the information out of fear of defying Concubine Mei's orders—a somewhat forgivable offense. Because of this, Suo'er had been allowed to recuperate in the palace for a few days before being expelled. When she left the palace, she had walked out on her own two feet, certainly not on the verge of death.
This meant that something must have happened to Suo'er after she left the palace.
Her time watching palace dramas hadn’t been wasted—Qi Daiyu instantly thought of one word: silencing.
Qi Daiyu suddenly clenched her fists. Having the Qi family watch Suo'er had been reckless of her. The Qi household only had a few members, and the task of monitoring Suo'er must have fallen to Qi Daiyu’s parents. If someone wanted to silence Suo'er, the people they sent would surely be dangerous. If her parents were caught in the crossfire, the guilt would be unbearable.
She hadn’t thought things through carefully enough. Qi Daiyu felt a pang of regret.
After some consideration, she decided to prepare fifty taels of silver. Part of it would cover Suo'er’s medical expenses, and the rest would serve as compensation. Otherwise, her conscience wouldn’t be at ease.
