In the dim twilight, she seemed to see that person's shadow again.
Spring was as deep as the sea, pear blossoms like snow. A young man stood beneath the pear tree, wearing a sapphire-blue robe with a purple sash and jade belt. Sunlight filtered through the branches, falling upon the corners of his eyes, casting small fan-shaped shadows across the bridge of his nose through his eyelashes. The young man gazed at her from afar, his laughter clear and bright, calling out loudly: "Hey! I've been waiting for you for ages!"
Suddenly, the shimmering light shattered before her eyes. In the hazy glow, she saw Wen Yuan's anxious face. Wen Yuan's lips moved, opening and closing, but she couldn't hear what she was saying.
She knew she was probably ill again. People crowded around her, someone tugging at her arm, shaking her urgently until it hurt.
Frowning, she felt somewhat angry and wanted to scold these reckless servants, but her throat seemed disobedient. She struggled to open her mouth, like a fish in the sea, silently opening and closing without a breath of sound.
Wen Yuan grew frantic and scolded a young eunuch nearby: "Why hasn't His Majesty arrived yet? Was the message delivered?"
The young eunuch, pale as a ghost, replied with a sob in his voice, kneeling on the ground: "This servant's legs are worn out from running, and the message was delivered long ago. But Consort Cheng said His Majesty is taking his afternoon nap and whatever matter it is can wait until he wakes up."
"How outrageous!" Wen Yuan fumed. "How dare Consort Cheng! Is this something she can take responsibility for?"
Having served by Nalan's side for so long, Wen Yuan had gained considerable authority. All the servants knelt on the ground, not daring to speak.
Nalan, however, thought Wen Yuan was growing too bold, daring to say such things. If this reached Consort Cheng's ears, it would surely stir up trouble.
Since she couldn't speak for the moment, she closed her eyes again to rest, letting the servants fret like ants on a hot pan.
Consort Cheng was indeed becoming unreasonable. Relying on her maternal family's influence and her two princes, she acted without restraint, unaware that fortune and misfortune are intertwined—today's reliance might become tomorrow's calamity. Such reckless and imprudent behavior. It seemed that once she recovered, she would need to reprimand her properly; otherwise, this vast rear palace would be thrown into chaos.
She sighed wearily, feeling drowsy and too lazy to speak. The surrounding noise gradually faded as she sank back into a deep, dark dream.
Consort Cheng, also known as Cheng Rongrong, was the cousin of General Cheng Yuan. After Great Yan established its capital in Zhenhuang, to populate the rear palace and win over powerful ministers, Consort Cheng and several other daughters of high-ranking officials entered the palace. Thanks to her brother's influence at court and her own beauty and wit, she was promoted several times and greatly pleased the Emperor. She indeed proved capable, soon giving birth to a pair of sons for Yan Xun, leaping to the top of the three consorts, second only to the Empress.
She was originally an intelligent woman who knew her limits, but in recent years, the honors heaped upon her had made her increasingly reckless in her actions, and her words had become more impulsive and rash.
Yan Xun slept for a long time, not waking until dusk when the setting sun blazed red and the aroma from the Imperial Kitchen filled every corner of the Holy Gold Palace.
He had been up all night due to urgent reports from the border and still felt somewhat dizzy.
Consort Cheng knelt halfway on the footrest, draped in a soft goose-yellow gauze, charming and coquettish as she presented a cup of floral tea to Yan Xun, casually sharing amusing anecdotes from the various palaces.Yan Xun listened absentmindedly, occasionally responding with a few words. Suddenly, a fragmented phrase drifted into his ears. He froze slightly, then lowered his head and asked, "What did you say?"
Consort Cheng was inwardly startled but forced herself to remain calm, maintaining her smile as she said, "At noon, Xiaoshunzi from the Southeast Palace came to report that the Empress was feeling unwell. Seeing that Your Majesty was sleeping soundly, I didn't dare disturb you. I suspect it was just the servants being ignorant and making a fuss over nothing. The Empress has always been in poor health, as everyone knows. Her Majesty herself wouldn't want to bother you with such matters. She must have been unaware of it this time—if she had known, she would have certainly punished that servant for disturbing you."
Yan Xun sat on the couch and remained silent for a while. He quietly washed his hands, wiped his face, drank tea, and put on his boots. His eyes were profound, his expression calm, as if lost in thought.
Consort Cheng was inwardly delighted and busied herself attending to Yan Xun's washing and dressing. But once he was fully dressed, he prepared to leave. Anxious, she quickly spoke up, "Will Your Majesty not stay for dinner?"
Yan Xun slowly turned around. The setting sun cast a faint golden light on his face, making his eyes appear as deep as a bottomless spring. He gazed quietly at Consort Cheng, showing no visible anger, yet his presence sent chills down her spine, freezing her to the core.
Consort Cheng immediately knelt, her face pale with fear. The fate of Yuan Shilan, the emperor's former favored consort, flashed before her eyes, making her tremble with terror.
The hall fell into silence. After what felt like an eternity, a maid whispered in her ear, "Your Highness, the Emperor has left."
She slowly raised her head, feeling cold sweat drenching her forehead. Weakly, she tried to stand but nearly collapsed. The maid gasped and supported her, helping her sit on the soft couch.
Her hand pressed against her chest, her face pale, she remained silent for a long time.
She knew that even though the Emperor had said nothing, in that moment, she had come infinitely close to death.
As the sky grew darker, she pondered silently and finally let out a deep sigh. She instructed her servants, "Give Xiaodengzi, the guard on duty today, thirty strokes with the rod. Then prepare generous gifts. Tomorrow, we will go to the Empress's palace to apologize, saying the gatekeeper was negligent and failed to deliver the message."
The maid acknowledged the order, though frightened, she dared not question it. Soon, Xiaodengzi's agonized cries echoed from outside, growing louder and more desperate.
After all, a woman who had climbed to her position was no naive fool. She knew when to advance and when to retreat, understood her limits. Even if she occasionally forgot herself, at the slightest sign of trouble, she would quickly come to her senses.
And today's warning was more than enough for her to comprehend.
"Liu Xu, prepare incense, candles, and scriptures. Starting tomorrow, I will go to the Buddhist hall daily to copy sutras and pray for the prosperity of Great Yan."
"Yes."
This attempt at testing the waters was enough.
Cheng Rongrong sighed, her fingers brushing against the brocade quilt where Yan Xun had just lain. It felt icy cold.
By the time Yan Xun reached the Southeast Palace, the sky had completely darkened.
The Southeast Palace was dimly lit, and the imperial physicians had already withdrawn. The eunuch in charge knelt upon seeing him and was about to announce his arrival when Yan Xun interrupted him. As he walked in, all the palace maids and eunuchs knelt on the ground, their heads bowed low in a dark, winding line that extended all the way to the cold, silent palace doors.
She was already asleep, lying amidst layers of luxurious brocade, her face pale, her hair disheveled, and her body frail and emaciated.Wenyuan beamed with joy as she prepared a soft cushion for him on the daybed, but he pulled over a chair himself and sat directly opposite Nalan.
All the maids and servants had withdrawn, leaving only the two of them alone. He sat quietly while she slept deeply.
He had never seen her like this before. In his memory, Nalan Hongye had always been dignified and elegant, adorned in noble attire with refined makeup, her words and actions perpetually flawless. A detached smile forever graced her lips, exuding the imperial aura accumulated over many years.
Even on their wedding night, between the sheets, she never lost the graceful bearing of a princess.
Never had she appeared so disheveled, haggard, and emaciated as she did now.
She had truly grown thin. Looking at her now, he could hardly connect her with the brilliant elder princess she once was.
Time waits for no one—in the blink of an eye, so many years had passed.
He said nothing, merely sat quietly for a while before leaving. Yet even this brief visit was enough to delight the servants of the Southeastern Palace. Wenyuan joyfully bustled about outside the hall, arranging various preparations for receiving the emperor, for before departing, His Majesty had said he would return to visit tomorrow.
Just as the gates of the Southeastern Palace were locked for the night, Nalan opened her eyes.
She had grown thin, her eye sockets sunken, yet her gaze remained sharp and composed, bearing the wisdom and poise honed through years of experience.
That chair still stood beside her bed, empty. Carved into its nanmu wood were auspicious patterns of twin dragons frolicking with a pearl, swirling amidst clouds.
After all these years, Nalan Hongye, do you harbor even the slightest regret?
In the faint lamplight, she silently questioned herself.
Finally, she offered a faint smile and closed her eyes once more.
**
Life in the palace continued as usual, the days passing one by one. The weather grew colder, braziers were lit in the rooms, yet Nalan’s health showed no sign of improvement. Nearly half the Imperial Hospital had relocated, taking up long-term residence at the Southeastern Palace gate, with physicians streaming in and out incessantly.
One morning, on a day reserved for the young princes’ lessons, Yushu brought Yong’er to visit Nalan, bringing some bird’s nest and ginseng. They sat in the warm bedchamber, chatting with Nalan.
After a long, meandering conversation, noticing Nalan growing tired, Yushu prepared to take her leave when she suddenly heard Nalan ask softly, "Tomorrow is the anniversary of Prince Xuan’s passing, isn’t it?"
Yushu stiffened slightly, a string in her heart tightening inexplicably. She replied in a low voice, "Yes."
Nalan nodded. Wenyuan, standing nearby, smilingly presented an embroidered box. Nalan said calmly, "The prince served the state with merit. As my health is poor and I cannot pay my respects in person, may the princess consort convey my regards on my behalf."
A faint chill suddenly seeped into the warm bedchamber, creeping up from Yushu’s fingers along her arm. She stiffly accepted the box, biting her lower lip lightly, and bowed her head respectfully. "This humble consort thanks the Empress for this gift on behalf of my late husband."
Nalan shook her head, about to speak, when a maid rushed in from outside and whispered something into Wenyuan’s ear. Wenyuan’s expression froze instantly, and she turned to look at Nalan.
Yushu immediately rose to excuse herself. Seeing this, Nalan did not press her to stay.
Outside the hall, the sunlight shone brightly, yet Yushu’s palms were drenched in cold sweat. She clenched a corner of her robe tightly, as if by doing so, she could strangle certain thoughts to death.Suddenly, a group of eunuchs was seen rushing frantically toward the west. Yushu shifted her attention and casually asked her personal maid, "What happened? What are those people doing?"
The young maid, having frequented the palace for a long time, was quite sharp. She went to inquire and returned with a panicked expression, saying, "Your Highness, it's Lady Yuan of the Western Cold Palace—she hanged herself."
"Lady Yuan?"
Yushu was taken aback and asked in surprise.
The maid licked her lips and explained, "She was the former Consort Chu."
"Yuan Shilan?"
Now it was Yushu's turn to be shocked.
Consort Chu, originally named Yuan Shilan, was the most legendary favored consort in the harem since the founding of Great Yan.
She had started as a lowly laundry maid in the harem. Once, after making a mistake, she was thrown into the punishment chamber. Unexpectedly, this humble maid knew some rudimentary martial arts. In the middle of the night, she injured the matron guarding her and escaped. In her panic, she stumbled upon the emperor's carriage returning from the Imperial Study. Shot by an arrow and cornered, she dashed headfirst against the palace gate of Chulan Hall, preferring death to capture.
Fortunately, she was later saved. The emperor admired her spirit and promoted her from a lowly servant to a fifth-rank noble lady, showering her with extreme favor. Within half a year, Yuan Shilan monopolized the emperor's affection, rising rapidly until she was enfeoffed as Consort Chu. Despite causing discontent and criticism in the court, the emperor never wavered, and her influence in the palace was unmatched.
Until a rainy night three months ago, a disturbance erupted in Chulan Hall. The once highly favored Consort Chu was suddenly demoted. Within three days, she was demoted four times in a row, from the second-rank consort to a lowly seventh-rank beauty, living alone in the Western Cold Palace.
No one knew what had happened that night. It was only rumored that Consort Chu had argued with the emperor and, in a fit of rage, disfigured herself, becoming neither human nor ghost. Naturally, this provoked the emperor's wrath, leading to her demotion.
The palace staff discussed the matter with scorn. On one hand, Yuan Shilan had been exceedingly arrogant during her favored days, ignoring other consorts in the harem. On the other hand, since ancient times, women have relied on their beauty to serve the ruler. She had foolishly destroyed her own looks, earning no sympathy from anyone.
"Your Highness? Your Highness?"
The young maid grew somewhat fearful, calling out several times. Yushu snapped back to reality and quickly said, "Let's leave the palace immediately."
Passing through the second gate, the carriage rumbled along. Far in the distance, crows flew by, stirring up a cold wind. A few black feathers drifted down, floating slowly, gradually blending into the lonely palace.
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