The pool in Hot Spring Hall was built from white Han jade and was even larger than an ordinary person’s bedroom.
When Zheng Yan arrived at the pool after finishing his meal, steam rose in curls of white mist, creating the look of a celestial realm.
Yet the pool was already empty, and even the stone edges around it had been wiped spotless, without a single trace of water.
He had not brought anyone with him. Hearing faint voices from not far away, he continued onward.
Passing through several layers of intricate beaded curtains and jade screens, he found her seated on a low couch as her hair was scented. Two maids attended her, chattering away as they worked, while the incense basket released a faint, ethereal fragrance along with wisps of warm vapor—like a glimpse into her boudoir life.
The moment Xingxiang spotted the Emperor arriving alone, she tugged at Shuilian, who was still talking. The two curtsied in unison, then withdrew silently with heads bowed.
Yirong had just emerged from her bath, clad in only a thin layer of garments. Damp strands of black hair plastered her back, soaking through the fabric over half its length and faintly revealing the snow-white skin beneath. Seeing her two personal maids—who had been scenting her hair—and the palace maids waiting in the corner all withdraw without the slightest hesitation, she pursed her lips.
The Emperor sat down beside her and gently ran his fingers through her hair. It was already half dry.
She had finished bathing quite some time ago.
In a low voice, he said, “Zhen will scent it for you.”
But the instant his fingers brushed the ends of her hair, Yirong let out a sharp hiss.
Zheng Yan paused, then withdrew his hand as if nothing had happened.
It was the Emperor’s first time attempting something so close to serving another person, and his touch had been exceedingly light.
But Yirong had no desire whatsoever for the Emperor to scent her hair.
He asked, “What was Zhen saying before falling asleep?”
She smiled and replied, “Your Majesty was telling me not to think about the Grand Princess and her daughter anymore.”
With that one worry laid to rest, her mood was excellent. As she spoke, she turned her face toward the Emperor, her gaze brimming with warmth.
“You were very obedient today. Very good,” the Emperor said casually, reaching out to stroke her cheek.
Fresh from her bath, her face bore not a trace of powder. It was fair and dewy, soft and tender to the point where it seemed one could pierce it with a mere puff of breath.
Yirong tugged at the corner of her mouth. She was tempted to say that she was quite satisfied with the Emperor’s performance that day as well.
He had patiently explained the matter with the Liu Family without losing his temper.
And he had not insisted on pressing her for clear answers on certain issues.
Their gazes intertwined, breaths mingling.
Yirong looked away, turning her head to gather a handful of her dark locks. Feigning nonchalance, she probed, “Your Majesty, what did the Grand Princess say to you?”
Zheng Yan suddenly recalled the Grand Princess calling her a young woman blessed with great fortune. He smiled but offered no reply, instead reclining lazily with his head in her lap.
Yirong gazed at the Emperor and urged, “Your Majesty, what exactly did she say?”
The more she thought about it, the more frightened she became.
The Grand Princess’s tactics were not particularly sophisticated, but had she been swayed by her words—or failed to confess the truth outright—she would have been finished.
She had no idea how the Grand Princess had phrased it to the Emperor. Had she admitted asking for help in inquiring about Cui Cheng?
Soon enough, she lost all interest in such scheming thoughts. Unable to help herself, she released her hair and cradled the Emperor’s head in her arms.
“Your Majesty!”
Her voice trembled at the end, thick with haze.
Amid the swirling mists, the pomegranate-red silk curtains before the side hall—used for resting and changing—swayed gently, like ripples across the pool’s surface, waves lapping in undulation.
Xingxiang and Shuilian, waiting outside, exchanged a glance. They ordered the attending palace maids to withdraw, then moved a bit farther away themselves. Taking seats in a side chamber, they were too embarrassed to meet each other’s flushed faces yet couldn’t suppress their stifled giggles.
In their eyes, the current state of affairs was the best possible outcome for Madam Lu—and for them as well.
In the distance, the horizon gradually darkened to a murky black.
Palace maids in Hot Spring Hall quietly lit the lamps, treading lightly. No one dared enter the side hall where Zheng Yan and Yirong were, allowing it to dim bit by bit.
In the end, another bath was unavoidable. Shuilian half-carried Yirong from the pool, supporting nearly half her weight.
That night, Yirong knew they would return to the palace the next day. Though her body was utterly exhausted, sleep eluded her.
That morning, the Emperor had slept deeply, worn out from days of relentless busyness. While he rested, she had wandered the Western Garden, quietly observing her surroundings. Few nobles ever visited this place, and its vastness made it far looser than the Palace City—no sense of being constantly watched.
“Your Majesty,” she said, “you originally promised to teach me how to ride a horse. The rain ruined the chance this time, but could you bring me back here next time?”
Zheng Yan studied the still-flushed, delicate face on the pillow beside him. “There are training grounds in the palace.”
Yirong choked slightly, then hurried to say, “But I don’t want anyone to see me!”
The Emperor chuckled softly. “Who would go there without reason? Besides, you begged Zhen to delay your enfeoffment by three months, and that time is almost up.”
Yirong blinked. “But I like it here.”
“Very well.”
The Emperor agreed without hesitation, drawing her into his arms as he closed his eyes and drifted off.
She, however, still could not sleep.
Shuilian had quietly advised her more than once: she should ask the Emperor outright what title he intended to bestow upon her. No matter what, a higher rank meant better provisions in food and clothing. The ranks in Great Yan’s harem were straightforward—below the Empress came the four consorts and nine concubines, followed by lesser beauties and talents.
Given her unique status, Shuilian urged her to act sweetly and ingratiate herself with the Emperor, aiming for at least the rank of Zhao Yi Consort.
The Emperor had tried to tell her once before, only for her to cut him off. Neither had brought it up since.
For her part, Yirong would have preferred the lowest rank possible—fewer attendants around her.
But she could never voice such a thought to the Emperor, lest he accuse her of not knowing her own good fortune.
Moonlight dissolved into the night, the surroundings hushed save for the Emperor’s steady breathing at her pillowside.
Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of resignation welled up from somewhere deep within Yirong’s heart.
–
That day, Yirong dined with the Emperor in Purple Chen Hall.
After the meal, as if struck by a sudden thought, he told her, “The Ministry of Rites has deliberated. Willing consorts of the Previous Emperor may return home. Just keep it discreet.”
He had paid no attention to the matter himself and glanced at Yirong as he spoke, prompting her initial “Oh.”
Her face lit up with joy. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Tomorrow, I’ll have the female officials inquire about their wishes.”
She hadn’t dared send anyone beforehand without his approval—false hope would be cruel if they couldn’t leave after all.
The results, however, took Yirong aback.
Aside from two beauties of merely fourteen who had never even laid eyes on the Previous Emperor, no one wished to return home.
Yirong pondered for a moment before instructing Da Jiang and Xiao Jiang to ask again. “Tell them His Majesty won’t deem their character lacking or hold it against their families. As for remarriage, there’s opportunity outside the palace. Inside, won’t they be widowed for life? Ask them to think it over carefully.”
The female officials inquired delicately over the next two days, drawing out some honest responses.
Some said their parents were advanced in age; living off siblings and enduring their scrutiny seemed worse than the palace, where food and shelter were assured. The troublemakers had all been sent away, and with an Empress soon to manage palace affairs, there was no more fear of bullying.
Others confessed that their bonds with the palace maids ran deeper than with long-unseen family, making them unwilling to travel thousands of li home.
Naturally, a few grew excited at the officials’ assurances that this was no test of their loyalty to the Previous Emperor and eagerly wished to depart the deep palace that had confined their best years.
Some were truly devout and willingly chose to take the veil.
Only one remained deeply hesitant, torn on her path forward.
The female officials understood that releasing the Previous Emperor’s consorts wouldn’t involve flinging open the gates whenever someone changed their mind. This was their sole chance—they needed to decide swiftly. Thus, they reported the hesitation to Yirong.
The woman was surnamed Gu, and her rank in the Previous Emperor’s harem had been Wise Consort.
Wasn’t this her fellow townswoman?
Yirong hesitated briefly before saying, “Go invite her here. I’ll speak with her myself.”
Da Jiang and Xiao Jiang were stunned. This Madam’s status was extraordinary; she had been reluctant to see anyone, even keeping her existence hidden from the other palace ladies. When the officials had made their inquiries, they had deliberately omitted any mention of Yirong’s pivotal role. And now she wanted to meet the woman in person?
Surprised though they were, they soon escorted her in.
Yirong rose from her chair to exchange formal greetings with Gu Shi.
She dismissed the palace maids.
Gu Shi’s shock was impossible to conceal. Her eyes widened as she stared at Yirong’s face and the flawless emerald hairpin in her coiffure, its watery hue perfection itself. Even in her days of greatest favor, she had never worn anything like it.
It took her a long while to recover herself. “Cui—Lu little sister, how on earth are you here?”
“It’s a long story,” Yirong replied succinctly.
She continued, “We’ve chatted a few times before, Gu sister, and I know you’ve never grown accustomed to the Capital’s food or climate—you’ve always wanted to go home. So why the hesitation now? Are you worried life there would be hard?”
Gu Shi’s expression dimmed, and she nodded. “As I told you before, Lu sister—my mother passed early. A stepmother rules the household now, and my father dotes on the children she bore him…”
She trailed off, and Yirong patted her hand.
“As a child, I heard there’s an Imperial Retreat Palace fifty li outside Yue Prefecture. Why not live there, sister? Or return to Yue but not to your family home—have the escorting palace staff handle the paperwork, and you could reside independently.”
“The only drawback is that you’d be living alone either way.”
Gu Shi’s eyes brightened. She had some savings, enough to last a lifetime. Her fellow townswoman Lu Yirong had clearly risen dramatically in status—if she said it could be done, then it could.
She rose to kneel in gratitude, but Yirong steadied her.
The two women exchanged a smile.
After Gu Shi sat back down, she said frankly, “Actually, when I first mentioned that we were from the same hometown, I did have the intention of currying favor with Empress Dowager Cui. I wanted her to know that I have a good relationship with her sister-in-law, and I truly respect her…”
No sooner had she spoken than she wished she could bite her tongue.
The other woman had clearly gained great fortune—why bring up old matters?
Yirong pursed her lips in a smile. “I know.”
She had seen through it from the beginning. But later on, Gu Shi had treated her well, sharing pastries from Yue Prefecture made in the small kitchen. Their chats about the flavors and scenery of their hometown had been thoroughly enjoyable.
Gu Shi smiled. “I know your boudoir name is Yirong. I haven’t told you my name before—I’m Gu Yuanshao. If there’s an opportunity, I hope we can keep in touch in the future.”
Yirong replied, “If there’s a chance, who knows? We might even meet again.”
Gu Yuanshao shook her head, her expression turning serious. “If we both live safely and smoothly from here on out, we’ll never meet again in this lifetime.”
Yirong paused at her words.
Yes, Gu Yuanshao disliked the capital city and had no fondness for the palace. She wouldn’t return to the capital unless some enormous injustice forced her hand. And as for Yirong herself, Gu Yuanshao could surely tell who she was attached to now. From here on, Yirong would spend her days confined to the depths of the palace.
After exchanging a few more words, she saw Gu Yuanshao off. Then she sat alone in the main hall of Little Ling Prefecture, lost in thought.
This matter was more or less concluded. She didn’t need to concern herself with escorting the palace ladies back afterward.
She pondered Gu Yuanshao’s parting words and also reflected on the emperor’s possible intentions in assigning her this task.
Yirong vaguely understood the reason but didn’t dare delve too deeply into it.
Half the days she had begged the emperor to delay had already passed.
She was reluctant to venture too far from Little Ling Prefecture, but whenever she tried to take a stroll nearby, someone always followed. This whole area was close to the emperor’s sleeping palace, crawling with eunuchs and guards. There was never a moment when she could be truly alone.
It seemed she had no choice but to accept her fate.
The next day, the emperor left the palace early in the morning to pay respects to his late father, Emperor Xuan, at the Imperial Ancestral Temple. He wouldn’t return until the following day.
Yirong enjoyed a leisurely morning. In the afternoon, an eunuch from Purple Chen Hall came to report that Song Mama, the servant woman from her household, was seeking an audience.
She immediately ordered that Song Mama be shown in.
As soon as Song Mama entered, she quietly took stock of the room’s furnishings. Nodding to herself with quiet delight, she resolved to give Madam a full report upon her return. She had come to discuss Yirong’s dowry, and Madam Qiao had also entrusted her with a few words to relay.
Yirong carefully reviewed the list that Song Mama had verified. Duke Qiao’s Mansion naturally hadn’t dared to covet her silver—even all the small trinkets and knickknacks from her room had been returned to the Qiao Family.
Song Mama said, “They were quite attentive about it; they even packed up those half-made nightclothes of yours. This servant noticed the size seemed off—shall we just throw them away?”
Her tone was cautious.
Yirong replied, “Cut them up.”
“Madam has been very worried about you. Seeing how well you’re doing in the palace, this servant will tell her all about it when I get back, and she should finally be at ease. However, young lady, Madam advises you to start planning for yourself. While there are still no other consorts in the palace, ask His Majesty for a firm title soon…”
After completing the rites at the temple, the emperor changed his mind and decided to return to the palace at once.
His expression was a few degrees colder than usual. He commanded everyone to hold their tongues and forgo greetings as he made his way straight to Little Ling Prefecture, where Yirong resided.
Eunuchs had hurried ahead a few steps earlier, quietly instructing the servants not to voice any greetings or announcements.
Zheng Yan frowned slightly, curiosity stirring within him.
What did she do when she was alone?
He drew a few steps closer and waved for the bowing palace servants to rise. From inside the room, he heard the voice of a middle-aged woman.
“…Recently, Madam has been exchanging letters with one of her old handkerchief friends. That lady is the warm-hearted type—once she got the letter, she came straight to Lingshi Town to visit. During their chat, she mentioned how the Pei family girls are so virtuous and beautiful, and being cousins from His Majesty’s mother’s side, one of them might enter the central palace. She meant nothing by it, but our Madam grew very worried for you. She wants you to plan ahead and be prepared.”
Yirong rubbed her forehead. “What sort of preparation can I even make?”
The two Pei family girls were both excellent.
These rumors had been circulating for quite some time.
Naturally, no one dared to shout from the rooftops about who the future empress would be. But who could resist gossiping about whom the emperor would ultimately choose for his empty harem?
Song Mama sighed. “Madam only has your best interests at heart. She’s afraid you’ll be bullied and have nowhere to turn for justice. This isn’t the sort of thing where you can call on your family to take charge. Even with His Majesty’s help, you can’t guarantee there’ll never be conflicts. And against someone with a higher rank and a proper title, there’s simply no recourse.”
Yirong said, “Please reassure Mother—I’m truly doing very well here. I know the Pei family girls; they won’t bully me. Tell her not to worry so much and to keep her company with talk of other things.”
A sudden thought struck her, and she asked urgently, “Mama, will you be able to enter the palace again in the future?”
Song Mama smiled. “Of course, of course. The eunuchs were quite polite to this servant. Once Madam has recovered her health, she’ll be the one leading me into the palace to pay my respects to you.”
Yirong bit her lip.
She had already resigned herself to a lifetime confined in the depths of the palace, enduring Zheng Yan’s unpredictable moods.
But there were some things she absolutely did not want.
Lowering her voice, Yirong said, “Mama, help me with one thing. Mother must never know about it.”