It seemed the light spring rain had swept away the lingering gloom of winter, leaving several days of clear skies in its wake. Yet unlike the bright weather outside, the palace remained shrouded in lifeless stagnation. Within this stagnant calm, something seemed poised to break through the surface—a restless stirring, like the first tentative sprout of danger pushing through the earth, foreboding an unseen threat.
In the Ying Shui Palace, a young and beautiful woman sat before her dressing table, adorned in a flowing, subtly patterned brocade gown. Though the colors were muted, the exquisite fabric and embroidery made the garment impossible to ignore. Her hair was styled in an elaborate phoenix crown updo, her delicate features lacking their usual brightness. Despite her youth, her heavy makeup lent her an uncharacteristic sharpness, almost severe.
Her fingers, tipped with crimson lacquer, brushed lightly over her cheeks. The rouge on her snow-white skin lent a false bloom of beauty—not the natural radiance of youth, but the stiff, soulless allure of artificial flowers.
A palace maid entered and announced, "Your Highness, the young lady of the Zhao family has arrived."
"Show her in," Dong Yinger replied with a faint smile, rising to recline languidly on a nearby daybed.
The sight that greeted Zhao Jin as she entered was entirely unexpected—Dong Yinger lounging in an unfamiliar pose, draped in opulent silks. The woman on the daybed smiled at her. "Zhao Jin."
Zhao Jin steadied herself, hesitating before stepping forward. Dong Yinger patted the space beside her. "Come, sit here."
"That... wouldn't be proper," Zhao Jin murmured, pressing her lips together. "Your Highness is of noble birth—"
"Must we stand on ceremony? Have you forgotten the days we embroidered handkerchiefs together, or napped side by side?" Dong Yinger waved a dismissive hand, her light tone leaving Zhao Jin speechless.
The words tugged at Zhao Jin's memories—days of girlhood spent with Dong Yinger, Lin Zixiang, and Wen Feifei, carefree and untouched by the machinations of families or court. Those had been the happiest times, a stark contrast to the storm now gathering around them. Even the Zhao family, though seemingly secure for the moment, was walking a razor's edge. One misstep could unravel everything—this was a gamble with their very lives. A shadow of sorrow crossed her face as she finally sat beside her old friend, meeting her gaze.Dong Yinger looked quite different from how she used to be. Whether it was her makeup, attire, or the expression on her face—though she smiled and tried to act as intimately as before—there was no longer the brightness of her youthful days. Instead, there was a touch of coldness and worldliness. Perhaps life in the palace wasn’t easy. Dong Yinger, at the prime of her youth, had been sent into the palace. Her father claimed she now held a high position in the imperial harem, but to Zhao Jin, this was utter nonsense. What kind of place was the palace? For those seeking wealth and status, it might seem desirable, but Dong Yinger had been raised in luxury since childhood. To her, wealth and status were nothing extraordinary. What she had lost upon entering the palace—her freedom—was far more precious. That was why she now seemed so unfamiliar. Zhao Jin sighed inwardly. Among their group, the most unfortunate one was probably Dong Yinger.
Thinking this, Zhao Jin felt a surge of sympathy for Dong Yinger, unaware that her gaze had not gone unnoticed. A flicker of disgust flashed across Dong Yinger’s face before she laughed and said, “Since I entered the palace, we’ve hardly kept in touch. Meeting again now, it feels like everything has changed. I wonder if you feel the same.”
After Dong Yinger entered the palace, her former sisters had visited her several times, but Dong Yinger had been sullen and distant each time. Lin Zixiang, with her fiery temper, had once quarreled with her, but Dong Yinger had remained silent. Later, when Lin Zixiang met the others, she said, “She’s made up her mind to distance herself from us. Forget it—forced affection doesn’t last. We treat her as a sister, but she doesn’t see us the same way.”
At first, Wen Feifei and Zhao Jin didn’t believe it. Coming from military families, they weren’t as perceptive about emotions as Lin Zixiang. But even they, slow as they were, gradually realized Lin Zixiang was right—Dong Yinger was deliberately pulling away. Zhao Jin, in particular, noticed that on several occasions when she accompanied her mother into the palace and tried to speak with Dong Yinger, she was always turned away by Dong Yinger’s maids with excuses. It happened every time, almost as if Dong Yinger was deliberately slighting her. Puzzled, Zhao Jin eventually stopped eagerly inquiring about Dong Yinger during palace visits. Who would want to keep pressing their warmth against someone else’s coldness?
Still, at this moment, Zhao Jin echoed the sentiment, “It’s true. Back then, you were the most sociable and skilled at handling relationships among us. Now, it seems you’ve truly made something of yourself.” Had she really? Probably not entirely. But Zhao Jin was no longer the naive girl she once was. The pressures of her family had matured her, and her words now carried more thought. With Dong Yinger changed, how could she speak as freely as before? There was always a distance between them now.Dong Yinger gave Zhao Jin a meaningful look upon hearing this and shook her head, saying, "Time is indeed merciless. I never thought someone as straightforward as you would now speak such smooth words. There's no need for pretense between us—remember, we grew up together. Our thoughts need no guessing. Is life in the palace truly so wonderful? What does your so-called 'promise' even amount to? Perhaps when His Majesty one day passes, I too shall accompany him..."
At these words, Zhao Jin was startled and immediately glanced around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. Only when she saw no one did she relax, momentarily forgetting Dong Yinger's status. She rapped Dong Yinger lightly on the head and scolded, "Stop talking nonsense! How can you say such reckless things? What on earth goes through your mind all day? Everyone knows you must mind your words in the palace—how can someone as clever as you be so foolish? Do you have a death wish?" The moment the words left her mouth, Zhao Jin herself froze, suddenly realizing she had lost her composure without noticing. After all, they had been childhood friends, and despite the distance that had grown between them, some old affection remained. When faced with danger, she couldn't help but worry for the other.
Dong Yinger seemed equally surprised by Zhao Jin's reaction. A flicker of complex emotion passed through her eyes before vanishing just as quickly. She replied lazily, "What's there to fear? Every day in this palace is a living hell. If we had to live in constant fear, how could we go on? Even if things were as you imagine, it would be a fate worse than death."
Her tone carried an unusual note of indifference and nonchalance, as though she held little regard for her own life. This despondency and bleakness pained Zhao Jin's heart. Back when the four of them were together—Lin Zixiang with her rigid honesty, Zhao Jin and Wen Feifei as the boisterous martial girls—arguments were inevitable. It had always been Dong Yinger who smoothed things over. Perhaps it was because her father was so diplomatic, but even at a young age, Dong Yinger had a knack for handling matters with grace. Even Lin Zixiang, who never admitted it aloud, had secretly admired Dong Yinger's skill. Dong Yinger had been warm and generous, naturally beloved by all. To see that bright, radiant girl now withered like a dying tree left Zhao Jin with an indescribable ache in her heart.
Noticing her expression, Dong Yinger smiled faintly and said, "Actually, the reason I invited you here today wasn't about this. I just wanted to apologize."
"Apologize?" Zhao Jin blinked, looking at her in confusion. "For what?"
"Back then, you thought I was distancing myself from you—and you weren't wrong. I did it on purpose. There was a time when I despised you, envied you, and couldn't bear to see you. The sight of you made me furious, and I thought it would be better to act as though we'd never been friends. That's why I behaved that way. I suppose I must have hurt you deeply."
Zhao Jin was even more puzzled now. Ignoring the other implications in Dong Yinger's words, she asked instead, "Why did you despise and envy me? Did I do something wrong?"
Among their group of friends, Dong Yinger's coldness toward her had been the most obvious, almost blatant. Zhao Jin had always been bewildered by it. Now that Dong Yinger had brought it up, she finally voiced the question that had long weighed on her mind."Has your marriage with General Jiang been settled? When can we celebrate the wedding?" Dong Yinger smiled and asked another question instead.
"Next spring..." Zhao Jin replied somewhat shyly, "But it's still too early to say for certain..."
"Too early? I've already heard the news. Since both families have agreed, it must be soon." Dong Yinger's smile turned mischievous. "General Jiang is quite the catch—young, accomplished, and with a bright future ahead. Ruan Meimei will be your sister-in-law, so she won't let him bully you. Besides, there are no elders to answer to—you'll be in charge as soon as you marry. You'll have nothing but good days ahead."
Zhao Jin felt a little embarrassed by Dong Yinger's teasing, but it also brought back memories of their carefree girlhood, when they would gossip idly about which young master had taken a fancy to which young lady. She chuckled. "You still haven't told me why you disliked me."
Dong Yinger glanced at her, her gaze inscrutable, and sighed. "I don’t mind if you laugh at me, but back then... I also had feelings for General Jiang."
With just that one sentence, everything fell into place. Zhao Jin listened in stunned silence, fragments of memory flashing through her mind, weaving together into sudden clarity. Back then, Jiang Xin Zhi hadn’t yet risen to prominence—he was just beginning to make a name for himself in court. But during a palace banquet, he had rescued both her and Dong Yinger. At the time, Dong Yinger had seemed bashful, clearly smitten with him. Zhao Jin, however, had been oblivious, assuming it was just the natural admiration any girl might feel for an outstanding man—like the infatuations they’d once had for some elegant scholar who topped the imperial exams. But now, hearing Dong Yinger’s words, she realized her friend’s feelings had been genuine.
Two close friends falling for the same man—it was a death knell for any friendship. Zhao Jin had never imagined it would happen to her. She’d thought Dong Yinger’s feelings were just childish whims, never realizing how deeply they ran. Suddenly, she didn’t know how to face Dong Yinger. Should she be angry—because Dong Yinger had distanced herself over this? Or should she feel guilty—for failing, as a friend, to ever notice her feelings?
Dong Yinger smiled faintly. "I know what you’re thinking now. Whether you think me shameless or immoral, it’s all in the past. When I first entered the palace, I was unwilling. I refused to accept my fate, and seeing all of you living so happily, I grew envious—wondering why I alone was so unfortunate. But now I’ve accepted it. Heaven is probably fair—my fate has long been clenched in its grip, so why struggle? I’ve made peace with it, and those feelings for General Jiang have faded. Don’t worry, my heart is clear now. It’s all over."Her words were spoken with a calmness tinged with sorrow, making it impossible for anyone to stay angry. Zhao Jin's initially tangled emotions gradually settled under her words. Then, Dong Yinger's soft voice came through: "I'm telling you all this today because I don’t want to leave regrets behind. Everyone dies, but to die with regrets is too bitter. I have few friends in the palace—back in the mansion, you were among the only ones I had. I don’t want to carry regrets..." She paused before continuing, "What I said earlier—I don’t know when my time will come. Before then, I just hope to leave something behind."
Zhao Jin immediately thought of her earlier remarks and asked, "Have you heard something? Why do you keep speaking like this? Hasn’t Lord Dong thought of any solution? The way you talk, it’s as if you’ve given up on living."
"A solution?" Dong Yinger laughed, the sound bitter. "I’ve said it before—this is my fate. What solution is there to seek? My past is already ruined. What’s left for me to do? Even if I kept my life, living under a false name, unable to return home—what meaning would that have? As for my father, since he sent me here to protect the Dong family, he should see it through to the end. It’s better if I uphold the family’s honor myself—at least I can leave them with a legacy of loyalty."
"That’s not right. How can you—" Zhao Jin tried to argue, but Dong Yinger cut her off. "Zhao Jin, can you forgive me?"
"I..." Facing death, one’s words turn sincere. Moreover, when Zhao Jin thought about it, Dong Yinger had never done anything truly wrong—just been a little distant. They had grown up together, and even regarding Jiang Xin Zhi, Zhao Jin couldn’t help but feel sorry for Dong Yinger. Some things simply weren’t meant to be, and Dong Yinger’s current plight was truly pitiable. Collecting herself, Zhao Jin met her gaze and said, "I’ve never blamed you. Loving someone isn’t a crime. I don’t resent you—I’ll always be your sister."
Dong Yinger smiled faintly, reaching out to take Zhao Jin’s hand. "I know. You’ve always been the easiest to persuade. No one else would be this generous and not hold it against me. If I had fallen for Zixiang’s beloved..." She gave a self-deprecating chuckle before shifting the topic. "Did you bring what I asked for?"
Zhao Jin, who had been listening intently, nodded. "Yes, I had my brother sneak it for me. He doesn’t even know I brought it into the palace." Zhao Jin’s hometown was known for its prized ginseng. With the Emperor’s health deteriorating, the palace’s supply was dwindling fast, and gathering more would take time. The Zhao family had two fine roots—this was common knowledge. Dong Yinger had asked if Zhao Jin could bring some to brew medicine for the Emperor, and Zhao Jin had agreed. Her father paid little attention to such matters, so as long as her brother secretly handed them over, there’d be no issue. She had simply told him they were for a friend’s ailing husband, and her second brother hadn’t questioned further."Thank you," Dong Yinger said with a smile. "Though he is the Emperor, surrounded by countless beauties in the harem, I still wish for him to live a long life—if not for anything else, then at least for myself..." She looked at Zhao Jin. "Thank you."
"Between us, there's no need for thanks," Zhao Jin replied with bold generosity.
The two of them resumed their cheerful banter, appearing as close as sisters who had never known discord. Their conversation lasted until dusk. Since the Zhao family's carriage was still waiting outside and the Emperor was gravely ill, Dong Yinger didn’t press Zhao Jin to stay. She personally instructed her trusted palace maid to escort Zhao Jin out of the palace.
After Zhao Jin left, Ying Shui Palace was once again empty, with only Dong Yinger remaining. She slowly walked over to the pile of gifts Zhao Jin had brought and reached for a sandalwood box hidden deep within. The box was exquisitely crafted, adorned with carvings of ancient pines and cranes, symbolizing longevity. When opened, a flawless ginseng root lay inside, its rich aroma faintly detectable upon closer inspection.
This was indeed the Zhao family’s ginseng—Zhao Jin had kept her word. Yet, despite its rarity, the ginseng was of little real use. At best, it could help sustain life, but it was far from capable of reviving the dead. Thus, the Zhao family didn’t truly treasure these two roots; if needed, they could always procure more from their homeland.
Dong Yinger gently lifted the ginseng from the box, a faint, imperceptible smile crossing her lips. She untied a sachet from her waist, then retrieved a small locked chest from beneath her dressing table. From it, she took out a bottle of liquid resembling water and mixed some powder from the sachet into it, shaking the mixture carefully. Then, she dipped the ginseng’s roots into the liquid, soaking them from bottom to top before withdrawing them after some time.
After putting everything away, Dong Yinger placed the ginseng back into the chest and returned to her couch. She pulled out a jade hairpin from her hair, twirling it thoughtfully, a mocking smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Friendship? Fate? What were those? So-called friendship was merely betrayal disguised as self-preservation, and fate was always in the hands of those with power and status. The world had always been this unfair—so why should she abide by its rules? Affection? Worth less than weeds!
Dong Yinger thought bitterly that only someone like Zhao Jin would believe her words. But why did Zhao Jin trust her? Was it stupidity or naivety? Dong Yinger was certain it was the latter. Zhao Jin had been sheltered in a safe environment, privileged enough to remain naive, while she, Dong Yinger, had to claw her way up in the palace. A single misstep born of naivety could mean utter ruin—why was that? By what right?
Her nails dug into her palms, yet she seemed to feel no pain. Her smile twisted slightly. "Zhao Jin, this is what you owe me. You stole my life and happiness. Now, it’s my turn to take it back."
She called to a maid who had just entered. "Tidy up the gifts from Miss Zhao. The box contains two thousand-year-old ginseng roots. Take them to the imperial kitchen and have a few slices prepared for His Majesty’s medicine later."
...The palace maid escorted Zhao Jin outside the palace gates. With a smile, Zhao Jin said, "You may return now, I'll board the carriage." The maid complied and left. Just as Zhao Jin was about to step onto her family's carriage, she unexpectedly heard someone call her name from behind: "Jin'er."
Turning around, Zhao Jin saw Jiang Xin Zhi approaching. Somewhat surprised, she asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I came to the palace to discuss A Ruan's matter with Her Majesty the Empress Dowager, hoping to allocate some troops to search for her," Jiang Xin Zhi replied briefly. Seeing her nod, he asked in return, "Why are you in the palace?"
"Yinger invited me," Zhao Jin answered. Noticing Jiang Xin Zhi's unfamiliar expression, she added, "Dong Xiuyi, Dong Yinger."
At this, Jiang Xin Zhi understood. Recalling the strange expression he had seen on Dong Yinger's face that day, he couldn't help but frown and ask, "What did she want from you in the palace? Did she give you any trouble?"
"No, no," Zhao Jin quickly waved her hand. After a moment's thought, she grabbed Jiang Xin Zhi's arm and pulled him toward her carriage. "Let's talk inside."
Jiang Xin Zhi followed Dong Yinger into the carriage, where a small table was set. Dong Yinger poured him a cup of tea. Now that they were seated in the carriage, Zhao Jin took a closer look and noticed the exhaustion etched on Jiang Xin Zhi's face. His unshaven stubble added to his disheveled and weary appearance. It had been a long time since Zhao Jin and Jiang Xin Zhi had last met. Ever since Jiang Ruan was abducted, Jiang Xin Zhi had been tirelessly searching for her. Zhao Jin knew he was busy, but seeing him now, she realized he might be even more worn out than she had imagined. A pang of heartache struck her.
Jiang Xin Zhi downed the tea Zhao Jin handed him in one gulp, wiping his mouth. Zhao Jin asked, "Still no news of Ruan Meimei?"
At her words, Jiang Xin Zhi's eyes darkened as he shook his head.
Zhao Jin's heart ached alongside his. Her relationship with Jiang Ruan had been exceptionally close. After Jiang Ruan's disappearance, Zhao Jin had begged her brother to mobilize their friends to search, yet after dozens of days, there remained no trace of Jiang Ruan. Zhao Jin grew increasingly anxious, especially as ominous rumors spread like wildfire—some claimed Jiang Ruan had likely met with misfortune. As her dear friend, Zhao Jin refused to believe it. Yet the prolonged silence terrified her.
"How can there be absolutely no leads?" Zhao Jin pressed. "The perpetrators couldn't have gone far. The city gates were guarded that day with no suspicious sightings. Since they're still in the capital, and we've practically turned the entire city upside down, how is there still no trace? Unless they can fly or vanish into the earth—how can a living person simply disappear? It must be the incompetence of those officials failing to investigate properly." She angrily shifted blame onto the capital magistrate.
Jiang Xin Zhi gave a bitter smile and shook his head. "This was clearly premeditated. The fact that they've hidden A Ruan so thoroughly proves it. Even the Brocade-clad Guards can't find her—these are formidable adversaries. Moreover... they're likely from the Southern Borderlands..." His voice trailed off with unconcealed worry. The Southern Borderlands' methods were notoriously cruel. His greatest fear was that those deranged Southerners might subject Jiang Ruan to unspeakable torture. The mere thought of what she might be enduring pierced his heart like a dagger. Having relied on each other for survival all these years, as her elder brother, he'd failed to protect her. If anything happened to Jiang Ruan, he could never forgive himself.
"Xin Zhi, I'm scared," Zhao Jin grasped his hand, her voice trembling. "I... I have this terrible foreboding." Even as a general's daughter, she'd heard whispers of the Southern Borderlands' brutal occult arts. After so many days without word, what did the silence imply? Could Jiang Ruan already be...? Anyone would draw such conclusions.
"No." Jiang Xin Zhi clasped her hand in return, his large palm enveloping her smaller one with warm, steady pressure. His low voice carried quiet conviction. "No. A Ruan is clever and resilient—she'd never surrender to adversity. She's my sister; I know her better than anyone. She'll find a way to survive until we rescue her."
Zhao Jin managed a relieved smile, his words visibly calming her. She rested her head against his shoulder without another word. Suddenly, Jiang Xin Zhi seemed to remember something. "Why did Dong Yinger summon you to the palace today?"Zhao Jin was taken aback, recalling Dong Yinger's words in the palace. Yet facing Jiang Xin Zhi, she felt somewhat conflicted—how could she possibly tell Jiang Xin Zhi about Dong Yinger's feelings for him? Though a slight discomfort lingered in her heart, Zhao Jin wasn't one to dwell on such matters. However, being unaccustomed to lying, she could only vaguely reply, "We just went into the palace to reminisce a little."
"You two have never been close. What is there to reminisce about?" Jiang Xin Zhi pointed out the flaw in her words with piercing accuracy.
Zhao Jin felt awkward and explained, "Lately, His Majesty's health has been poor, and she's been anxious, perhaps uncertain about her future prospects. There aren't many people in the palace she can talk to. After all, we grew up together—I would never harm her. She probably trusts only me now, so we spoke for a while. That's all there was to it."
Her words were half-truths, but they made for a plausible excuse. Jiang Xin Zhi fell silent for a long moment before finally saying, "You should see her less from now on—better yet, don't meet her at all."
Zhao Jin was startled, wondering why Jiang Xin Zhi would say such a thing. Unaware that he had recently met Dong Yinger and that their encounter had stirred up trouble, she thought perhaps he had noticed something. But that shouldn't be possible. Puzzled, she asked, "Why?"
"The palace is a complicated web of power," Jiang Xin Zhi said. "Your Zhao family is in a precarious position right now. If you get too entangled with her, one misstep could drag your family down. Then how would you handle the consequences?" He resorted to intimidation, unable to outright tell Zhao Jin that Dong Yinger was no good. Besides, given Zhao Jin's straightforward nature, she might not take such a warning to heart. It was better to involve the entire Zhao family—Dong Yinger was filial, and for the sake of her family, she would think twice before acting recklessly.
Hearing this, Zhao Jin indeed stopped arguing, though she lowered her head in sullen silence. Knowing she often got stuck in her thoughts, Jiang Xin Zhi didn't press her, confident she would eventually figure things out on her own. He simply reached out and ruffled her hair, though the heaviness in his gaze remained unchanged.
Jiang Ruan—she was still his greatest concern at the moment.
Meanwhile, Jiang Ruan was in a quiet courtyard, inside a room, staring absently at the large white dog lazily sprawled at her feet. These days, she had the mute maid prepare extra food, sharing it with the dog so they wouldn't need to make separate meals for it. The maid suspected nothing, dutifully bringing generous portions each day. In the maid's eyes, Jiang Ruan ate a lot, and the dog was just a bit greedy—nothing out of the ordinary.
Yet amid this peaceful routine, Jiang Ruan felt a quiet urgency. Why was Xuan Li taking so long to act? Only once he made his move could her plans proceed swiftly. Though this place was secluded, she was pregnant, and if anything went wrong, discovery would bring a host of troubles. And what she wanted most now wasn't just to protect the child in her womb.As she thought this, she suddenly felt a surge in her throat, and the nauseating sensation overwhelmed her once more. She clutched the bedpost and began to retch. At that very moment, the mute maid stepped into the room carrying tea, only to freeze at the sight before rushing forward in a fluster, staring at Jiang Ruan with helpless confusion.
Jiang Ruan had just steadied herself by pressing a hand to her chest—the morning sickness was becoming more pronounced with each passing day. When she looked up and saw the mute maid’s panicked gaze, her heart sank. This is bad , she thought. Without hesitation, she blurted out, "What was added to today’s meal? My stomach is in terrible pain!"
The mute maid froze, then immediately turned to run. "Stop!" Jiang Ruan commanded sharply.
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