If state affairs kept Emperor Yongchang occupied, he could order a delay in the selection ceremony for imperial consorts. However, the young ladies awaiting selection had no such privilege. Nanny Fang had already received verbal instructions from the Empress to lead the candidates to the Wanchun Pavilion in the imperial garden by mid-morning.
From dawn until mid-morning, a full four hours stretched before them, during which the sole task of these young ladies was to adorn themselves in their finest attire.
Since the day they entered the palace, the candidates who had been retained were permitted to wear only the clothing and accessories provided by the imperial household. Though the colors and styles varied slightly, the overall quality was uniform—a deliberate measure to discourage vanity and rivalry, ensuring the young women focused instead on mastering courtly etiquette.
During their seclusion in the training quarters, the palace-issued garments had been modest, only marginally superior to those worn by ordinary palace maids. But today, as the candidates prepared to present themselves before the nobility, Nanny Fang was determined to transform each into a vision of beauty, ensuring every young lady showcased her most radiant self.
Truthfully, whether these candidates soared to lofty positions mattered little to Nanny Fang. However, should any of them appear before the nobility with unkempt or unsightly attire, the blame would fall squarely upon her shoulders.
When the fifty candidates, having finished their simple breakfast, assembled neatly in the courtyard’s center, Nanny Fang appeared precisely on time.
The young ladies’ eyes darted behind her, where a long table had been set up, laden with sets of resplendent robes in vivid hues.
Nanny Fang reiterated the protocols for an imperial audience, then gestured to the table. "These robes were specially prepared for you by the Imperial Wardrobe at Her Majesty’s command. I have assigned each according to your features and stature, ensuring every young lady receives the most flattering attire. Once distributed, you must return to your quarters immediately to change. After the last person enters, I will light an incense stick. When it burns out, we depart. Anyone late will be charged with disrespect—whether by intent or accident, those who cause others to delay will face the same penalty."
A ripple of tension passed through the candidates, each silently resolving to maintain a safe distance from the others.
Nanny Fang began distributing the garments.
The fifty candidates stood in ten rows of five, arranged by their order of arrival.
Yao Huang had risen late and thus eaten late. Chen Ying, insisting on waiting for her, stood with her in the last row.
The earlier one received their robes, the more time they had to prepare. Watching the first row of candidates already retreating to their quarters, Chen Ying couldn’t help but fret.
Clenching her hands, she turned to Yao Huang.
Yao Huang smiled at her, leaning in to whisper, "Don’t worry—we have half an hour."
Their hair was already styled, adorned with identical jade hairpins. Changing robes would take no more than a quarter-hour.
Chen Ying had been swept up in the nervous energy of the candidates ahead, but Yao Huang’s bright, carefree smile slowly eased her tension.
Nanny Fang worked swiftly, and soon it was Yao Huang’s row’s turn.
Chen Ying received a set of pink robes with a white skirt, while Yao Huang found herself holding a pale-yellow upper garment paired with a striking crimson skirt. Startled, she looked up.
Nanny Fang, usually stern-faced, actually smiled at her. "Go change quickly."
The unmistakable favoritism left Yao Huang speechless.
Had some prince—or even Emperor Yongchang himself—expressed a preference for her type? Was Nanny Fang confident of her selection?
Her mother’s anxious words resurfaced in her mind: "Had I known about the selection, I would’ve raised you to be slimmer. With your full bosom and slender waist, no prince could look away. But your father is only a minor official—they’d only take you as a concubine..."
Yao Huang had dismissed it. "Li Tingwang constantly teases me for being plump, saying I’d struggle to marry. If even the son of a mid-ranking officer scorns me, princes—with their refined tastes—would surely prefer elegant, virtuous ladies from great families."
Her mother had scoffed. "Nonsense! If Li Tingwang disliked you, why would he visit so often? He provokes you with words, but mark my words—he’d gladly marry you."
Yao Huang had refused to believe it. Li Tingwang’s barbs infuriated her—how could that possibly signify affection?
Yet Nanny Fang’s blatant favoritism now set her heart pounding. She had never dared dream of becoming a prince’s primary consort, but the thought of being a concubine repelled her. A concubine was forever subordinate to the principal wife. Yao Huang, doted on by her parents, could never endure such humiliation.
Distracted, she followed Chen Ying back to their shared quarters.
Three other candidates, already changing, glanced over. Noticing the bold crimson in Yao Huang’s hands, one sighed enviously while another clenched her jaw.
With no screens for privacy and a month of shared living erasing all modesty, they hurriedly undressed. Even the shy Chen Ying shed her outer robe without hesitation, revealing her jade-like shoulders. Yao Huang, standing by the shuttered window, stripped off her plain candidate’s attire without ceremony.
The first to finish dressing stole a glance at Yao Huang—then flushed, her mouth inexplicably dry.
Yao Huang, unbothered, donned her new robes. The pale-yellow bodice revealed a hint of the embroidered peony-edged undergarment beneath, while the crimson skirt cinched at her waist. Her fair skin, accentuated by the vibrant red, seemed to glow like snow in sunlight.
Satisfied, she looked up to find Chen Ying staring, dazed. Catching Yao Huang’s gaze, Chen Ying averted her eyes and stammered, "Yao Yao, you—you look breathtaking."
Yao Huang sighed inwardly. Today, beauty was anything but a blessing.
Glancing at Chen Ying’s peach-blossom delicacy, she grasped her wrist. "Let’s go. We’ll stand at the back."
With nine rows of beauties ahead, perhaps the nobility’s interest would wane before reaching them—like admiring the first blooms of peonies in a garden, only to grow indifferent as more unfurled.
But when they returned to the courtyard, they found the early arrivals already lined up in two rows flanking Nanny Fang.
Yao Huang froze.
Nanny Fang directed them to complete the left row before announcing, "Today, you will line up in the order I call."
The first two rows of ten were reserved for daughters of high-ranking officials, nobles, and prominent provincial families.
Just as Yao Huang began to relax, assuming the order was based on status, Nanny Fang called her name—placing her in the center of the third row.
Shock flashed across Yao Huang’s face before she could mask it.
Nanny Fang’s sharp glance urged her to take her place without delay.
Steeling herself, Yao Huang stepped forward.
Timid yet lovely Chen Ying was positioned diagonally behind her.
Half an hour later, Nanny Fang led the procession toward the imperial garden.
The journey from the remote training quarters to the Wanchun Pavilion took another half-hour.
Between towering crimson walls, the candidates moved in hushed silence, passing through arched gate after arched gate until they finally arrived.
The Wanchun Pavilion, with its vermilion windows and gilded roof, stood surrounded by five-tiered steps. Outside, peonies in shades of red and purple bloomed in glorious profusion.
The sun shone brightly, but the nobles would not arrive for another half-hour. Nanny Fang led the selected maidens to stand in the shade of a tree, lest they sweat under the scorching sun.
On a small path diagonally across, a palace maid assigned by Nanny Fang kept watch for the approaching nobles. While the Emperor and his consorts had yet to arrive, Nanny Fang permitted the maidens to move their legs slightly to avoid stiffness from prolonged standing, ensuring they would present themselves well before His Majesty.
Chen Ying remained nervous, frequently glancing at Yao Huang in hopes of reassurance.
But Yao Huang had no energy left to comfort her. Her own mind was in turmoil, like a plump duck thrown into a pot of slowly heating water—desperate to leap out, yet with Nanny Fang standing guard like a cook by the stove, denying her any chance of escape.
Even worse, while a real duck could thrash about on instinct, she was human—she couldn’t even attempt to flee, for doing so would violate palace regulations.
In the midst of this torment, the palace maid on the path waved to Nanny Fang. Her expression shifted, and she immediately ordered the maidens to straighten their postures before leading them in a procession to a spot suitable for kneeling in welcome.
Another quarter-hour passed before the figures of the Emperor and his consorts finally appeared in the maidens’ line of sight.
While they were still at a distance, Yao Huang dared a furtive glance.
Walking side by side at the front were undoubtedly Emperor Yongchang and Empress Zhou. The Emperor, clad in a bright yellow dragon robe, cut a towering figure. Though past fifty, he appeared no older than forty. His imposing presence obscured most of the Empress, revealing only the lavish hem of her gown.
Behind the imperial couple were three consorts, their identities indistinguishable at a glance. Yao Huang’s gaze drifted further back, settling on a wheelchair pushed by a eunuch. The person seated in it—
A low cough from Nanny Fang cut through the air, unmistakably a warning to Yao Huang and any other bold-eyed maiden peeking where they shouldn’t.
Yao Huang immediately lowered her gaze, not daring to look further.
When the imperial party finally stood before them, Nanny Fang led the maidens in a deep bow.
Emperor Yongchang swept a casual glance over the group, uttered a brief "Rise," and strode past with Empress Zhou along the stone path winding through peonies, entering the Hall of Eternal Spring.
Only after all the nobles had entered did Nanny Fang guide the maidens to the steps outside the hall’s main entrance, where they awaited summons.
Inside, Emperor Yongchang exchanged light banter with his consorts before entrusting Empress Zhou with overseeing the selection.
Empress Zhou had borne two princes in her youth, but both had tragically died young. Now, with only a princess by her side, she was merely an observer in this process of choosing brides for the princes.
At the Emperor’s signal, Empress Zhou turned to the three consorts on her left and smiled. "Shall we proceed by age? Let Consort Liu Xian begin by selecting a principal consort for Prince Kang?"
Consort Liu Xian, the senior-most among the consorts after Empress Zhou, was nearing fifty. Though her youthful beauty had faded, her dignified grace had only deepened.
With a modest smile, she demurred, "Prince Kang has already undergone one selection. It’s more fitting to prioritize his younger brothers this time."
Emperor Yongchang nodded. "A fair point. Let the second prince choose first."
With his decree, the three consorts ceased their polite refusals.
The Emperor then addressed the son seated in the wheelchair to his right. "This is my decision. Later, do not hold back—choose whichever pleases you, and I shall grant your wish."
Never had Emperor Yongchang shown such paternal tenderness to any of his four sons, not even to Prince Hui Zhao Sui before his legs were crippled.
Everyone understood: the Emperor’s favor now stemmed solely from pity.
Zhao Sui lowered his eyes in silent gratitude.
The Empress’s chief matron stepped to the doorway, signaling Nanny Fang to usher in the first group.
Five maidens entered at a time. Those who caught the nobles’ favor would receive a silk flower, marking their advancement to the next round. Those without would depart, their hopes of nobility dashed.
The first five maidens, hearing that Prince Hui would choose first, kept their eyelids firmly downcast, not daring to let their gaze stray toward his wheelchair for fear of accidental eye contact leading to selection.
Fortunately, Prince Hui merely skimmed their faces with an indifferent glance, neither moving nor speaking.
Assured of his disinterest, Consort Liu Xian, Imperial Consort Du, and Consort Shen Rou each bestowed a flower.
The maidens then exited through separate side doors, sorted by their fortunes.
As Yao Huang watched the second group summoned inside, her heartbeat crescendoed.
Which consort would pick her as a secondary wife or concubine for their son? Or worse—might Emperor Yongchang himself take notice?
The Emperor held the highest status, but he was older than her own father!
Before she could dwell further, it was her turn.
Panic surged, but a month of rigorous training had drilled courtly manners into her bones. Outwardly, apart from the flush from her racing pulse, she betrayed nothing.
Coming to a halt, Yao Huang stood with lowered eyes directly before the imperial couple.
She was the first to draw their attention—her plump cheeks and curvaceous figure, rare in the palace, radiated an aura of auspiciousness.
Even Empress Zhou perked up, consulting the register of names before addressing Yao Huang. "Yao Huang, is it? Lift your head."
Yao Huang obeyed.
The Empress was met with eyes like black grapes—bright, lively, and beautiful.
She was charmed, but with no son of her own to wed, she offered only a nod, leaving the choice to Prince Hui.
Only then did Yao Huang realize Prince Hui had first pick.
Prince Hui...
While the consorts sought noble lineage and demure temperaments for their sons’ principal wives—qualities Yao Huang lacked—the princes themselves might prioritize beauty and figure.
Her pulse quickened for another reason.
If she was fated to become a concubine or low-ranking consort today, why not aim for the highest position within reach?
Prince Hui’s legs were an issue, but she stood no chance with the hale Prince Qing anyway!
With him as her sole option, the wheelchair suddenly ceased to matter. The prince’s household had countless servants—she wouldn’t need to tend to him herself!
Resolved, Yao Huang stole a glance at the lone wheelchair.
While ogling others might be obvious, Prince Hui’s seated position made it effortless. She saw a strikingly handsome face, though one devoid of vitality...
Then, those lifeless eyes shifted, locking onto hers.
Her heart lurched, and she averted her gaze.
But instantly, she worried—would he mistake her recoil for disgust?
Hastily, she peeked back.
Prince Hui was still watching her.
Suppressing the urge to flee, Yao Huang held his gaze, letting a slow, deliberate smile curve her lips, silently conveying her willingness.
Her subtle maneuvering didn’t escape the imperial party’s notice.
Emperor Yongchang thought to himself that this selected maiden named Yao Huang had a pleasing appearance—she might make a good match for his second son.
Consort Liu Xian and Consort Shen Rou showed no particular reaction, but Imperial Consort Du, Prince Hui’s adoptive mother, inwardly sneered. How pitiful Prince Hui had become—now that he was crippled, even the daughter of a lowly military officer dared to aspire to the position of his concubine.
Amid the seemingly prolonged but actually brief silence and observation, Zhao Sui picked up a silk flower from the tray held by the eunuch beside him. Looking at Yao Huang, he asked, "I wish to choose you as my princess consort. Are you willing?"
He didn’t know why this maiden had been stealing glances at him, so he decided to ask outright to avoid misunderstanding.
He had no intention of taking a wife, but since his father insisted on arranging it, Zhao Sui had no choice but to comply. However, he refused to marry someone who would secretly weep over her husband’s disability.
