After court adjourned, Cui Cheng reported with a pale face, “Your Majesty, Wei Shan is dead. This morning, the palace servants went to sweep and found his body already stiff. He must have died last night.”
The Emperor said nothing. After a moment, he spoke coldly, “Search.”
Cui Cheng acknowledged the order and followed behind him. “The Consort is much better today. She went to Shouning Palace this morning and didn’t leave until noon. She’s in the Imperial Garden right now.”
It was unclear if Helian Jin had heard, but he turned and headed straight toward the Imperial Garden.
Amid the riot of colors in the Imperial Garden, the Consort’s decorative screen stood in the distance at first glance. Cui Cheng hurried to catch up with Helian Jin’s strides.
There, Little Lian stood alone holding the screen. Cui Cheng asked, “Why are you by yourself? Where’s the Consort?”
Little Lian startled at Helian Jin’s sudden appearance, dropping the screen and kneeling to beg for mercy.
“Greetings, Your Majesty! The Consort… the Consort, she…”
Seeing this, Cui Cheng impatiently stepped forward. “Why are you hemming and hawing? Speak up!”
Before Little Lian could respond, a chill ran down Cui Cheng’s neck.
He stole a glance at the Emperor beside him and saw him gazing distantly into the depths of the flowerbeds.
Sunlight poured down from above, casting deep shadows in the Emperor’s high brow ridge and eye sockets, making his expression unreadable. Yet under the bright sun, an icy aura emanated from him, suggesting his gaze must be piercing.
Summoning his courage, Cui Cheng followed the line of sight. Deep in the flowers, the Consort was chatting and laughing with a painter. The man was handsome in a gentle, approachable way utterly unlike His Majesty.
The Consort stood with her side to them.
First, she bent down to examine something in the painter’s hands, then covered her mouth and stepped back a few paces. Finally, she leaned forward excitedly, saying something earnest.
Whatever she was saying, the Consort stood there carefree at that moment. Her thin gauze robes fluttered in the breeze, her hair swaying lightly against her waist with her movements. She resembled a fresh leaf glistening with dew, all traces of her recent illness and worries swept away.
The Consort seemed utterly relaxed.
His Majesty stared on with a stern, icy expression, his gaze never wavering.
The wind stirred the flowers into a dance, blurring the distant figures.
Cui Cheng said, “This servant will go—”
“The Consort ordered this servant to stand guard here and let no one approach—not even Lady Shuxiu was allowed to stay. She must have private words to share with him.”
Little Lian spoke up just then, her words vague enough to invite all sorts of speculation.
Cui Cheng shot her a frantic glare.
Are you trying to get yourself killed? True or not, you can’t say that!
Sure enough, the Emperor glanced coldly at Little Lian kneeling on the ground, then at Cui Cheng.
Cui Cheng understood immediately. He strode forward, drew back his arm, and slapped her hard across the face.
“You loose-tongued wretch! Since when is it your place to speak of the Consort’s affairs?”
Little Lian hadn’t expected this and could only sob and plead for mercy.
“Tch.”
The Emperor pressed his temple in irritation.
Cui Cheng halted at once and said coldly, “Get out of here.”
Little Lian clutched her face and fled.
His Majesty did not budge, continuing to watch the pair from afar.
Cui Cheng whispered, “Your Majesty, shall we go take a look?”
After a long silence, he withdrew his gaze. “No.”
And so Cui Cheng stood trembling at his side, utterly unable to fathom what His Majesty was thinking.
His Majesty lingered, clearly intent on learning the nature of the Consort’s relationship with that man. If he wanted to know, why not approach and demand answers?
The painter would surely crumble in terror and spill everything.
Yet he stayed put, silently watching as the Consort’s robes billowed gracefully, as she paced back and forth, as she chattered on endlessly.
If only the wind would carry her words over.
His Majesty must desperately want to know what they were discussing.
Could it be that, seeing the Consort finally smile again, he couldn’t bear to disturb her?
Cui Cheng’s eyes lit up. For the first time in all these years of service, he felt he’d glimpsed a fraction of His Majesty’s inscrutable thoughts.
A joyous occasion indeed.
The Consort took a sip of water from Lady Shuxiu and finally departed.
She left with evident reluctance, glancing back three times.
As the Consort receded into the distance amid the floral scents and warm breeze, His Majesty finally stirred.
He pressed his temple again.
The pain seemed severe; even his voice was hoarse. “Prepare medicine.”
~~~
On the way back to the Side Hall, Yun Jichu still felt her steps unsteady, the wind in her ears waxing and waning, the floral fragrance in her nose intensifying then fading.
Was she dreaming, or was this reality?
Or perhaps she had never been dreaming at all.
“Lady Shuxiu… the Late Empress, what sort of person was she?”
Yun Jichu asked with difficulty.
These past days, intrigued by their similar appearances, Yun Jichu had wondered. But the curiosity hadn’t lasted.
She felt no sense of belonging to this world. Every day here was like drifting on clouds, every step a suspension into emptiness.
Just a string of data offering no help for her bewildered past or future.
She had never delved deeply into it before.
Lady Shuxiu paused for a moment, then said slowly, “The Late Empress was a rare kind soul in this world.”
Yun Jichu listened intently.
“The Yu River used to flood every year. It was the Late Empress who surveyed the terrain, drew up maps, and collaborated with the Water Department to rebuild the river channels. That effort averted years of disasters. Ever since, the lands along the Yu River have known peace, with bumper harvests year after year. The people were so grateful that they composed folk songs to praise her deeds.”
“……” The Yu River instance—she remembered it well.
It had taken her a full month to clear it perfectly, and all she got were ten points and a silly nursery rhyme.
“Fairy consort, fairy consort, oh so capable, oh so capable…”
Lady Shuxiu nodded repeatedly. “It seems Your Ladyship has heard it before.”
Yun Jichu rubbed her forehead.
Heard it? She had sung along to the tune herself—and it was the melody of “Two Tigers”!
Back then, she had ranted endlessly about how stingy the game’s rewards were and how utterly devoid of artistry they felt.
“Anything else?”
“This servant knows nothing of the matters between the Late Empress and His Majesty. All I know is that five years ago, even before she gave birth to the Two Highnesses, the Late Empress’s health was already frail. Then came the premature labor. She lost a great deal of blood and fell unconscious… and vanished without a trace.”
That had been such a hectic time.
Job interviews every day. More than once, she had just logged into the game when her phone rang. It was always after six in the evening, but the interviewer chattered on endlessly as if they had no sense of time.
In the end, after all the back-and-forth, she landed the job—and dropped the game entirely.
So… had her real-life busyness somehow triggered the premature birth in the game?
As for vanishing, well, she had quit playing outright. Of course she had “vanished.”
Yun Jichu’s breath grew shallow, her vision swimming.
No way. Could anything in the world be this astonishing?
She wouldn’t have dared dream up something so wild.
Transmigrating into the game itself? Actually falling in love for real with her favorite pixelated crush?
And the world here had kept turning even while she was gone?
But…
If she truly was Yun Jichu from five years ago, then why had Helian Jin changed? Why wasn’t he the same Helian Jin from back then?
Yun Jichu suddenly burned with the urge to visit Fengluan Palace and see those paintings with her own eyes.
She had to confirm it. She absolutely had to.
She had just reached the Side Hall when she spotted Cui Cheng waiting outside.
“Greetings, Your Ladyship.” Cui Cheng bowed deeply and offered the food box from his hands.
“Your Ladyship is only just recovering from your illness. You might crave something sour and sweet, so His Majesty specially instructed this servant to bring it.”
Lady Shuxiu stepped forward to accept it.
Yun Jichu’s mind was nowhere near the food box. “Where is His Majesty?”
Cui Cheng’s expression remained unchanged. “After court adjourned, His Majesty was struck by a headache. He is resting in Zichen Hall at present.”
Yun Jichu drew a deep breath. Should she go to him? Or not?
She couldn’t decide.
When Cui Cheng received no reply after a moment, he saluted again. “The items have been delivered. This servant will take his leave.”
As she watched Cui Cheng’s figure recede into the distance, Yun Jichu felt her resolve deflate in a rush.
Yun Jichu, oh Yun Jichu—what a timid little mouse you are!
What was this feeling like?
Like finally meeting in person that online friend you had chatted with for years.
She trudged into the Bedchamber, her mind weighed down with worries.
Lady Shuxiu opened the food box and arranged the exquisite jade dishes one by one.
Red Bean Pastry, Peony Rolls, Lotus Leaf Soup, and a few peeled grapes.
The grapes brimmed with juice, their green veins revealing hints of pale yellow at the core. Lady Shuxiu let out a soft exclamation as she lifted one.
Yun Jichu glanced over. The grapes were stuffed with peanuts.
She shot to her feet. “To Zichen Hall. I’m going to see him.”
But before she could take a step, Little Lian burst in through the door.
“Your Ladyship! Please spare this servant—I don’t want to leave you!”
Yun Jichu recoiled at the sight of her face. It looked as if someone had slapped her viciously; half her face was swollen enormously.
Only then did Yun Jichu realize she hadn’t seen Little Lian since returning from the Imperial Garden.
“Where have you been? How did this happen to you?”
Little Lian dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “This servant was in the Imperial Garden, holding a fan for Your Ladyship, when His Majesty appeared. He saw you standing amid the flowers, talking with the painters, and flew into a rage. He ordered Eunuch Cui to beat this servant.”
“Your Ladyship…” She pleaded desperately. “Please don’t hand this servant over to Eunuch Cui. My life is entirely in Your Ladyship’s hands.”
Yun Jichu’s heart pounded in alarm.
She had heard tales of all the deaths in the palace over recent years. For Helian Jin, killing a mere palace maid must be as effortless as crushing an ant.
Still, she couldn’t quite believe it. At the very least… Helian Jin wouldn’t take out his anger on someone else over something so trivial.
As her thoughts churned in chaos, a voice reported from outside the door. “Your Ladyship, this servant has come for Little Lian.”
The words sounded ominously like a death sentence.
Little Lian let out a piercing wail of anguish, kowtowing until her forehead split and blood flowed.
Yun Jichu turned her head away. “Enough.”
“Go tell whoever it is that Little Lian will be dealt with personally by me. Send him away.”
Lady Shuxiu hesitated, as if on the verge of speaking, but in the end, she went out and relayed the message.
Yun Jichu had no earthly idea how to deal with someone in this situation, especially not this frail palace maid. Half her face was swollen, blood trickled from her forehead, and she looked utterly wretched. Whatever fault she might have committed, it could surely be overlooked.
With a wave of her hand, Yun Jichu dismissed Little Lian to rest, averting her eyes from the bloodstains on the floor.
The moment Little Lian departed, Lady Shuxiu spoke up. “Your Ladyship is too kindhearted. You can’t take Little Lian’s word as the whole truth.”
Yun Jichu fell silent.
“If Your Ladyship has no wish to press the matter, why not reassign Little Lian to some menial sweeping duty outside? Keep her far from your side, and you’ll rest easier.”
Yun Jichu nodded wearily.
Little Lian had tended to her ever since she took up residence in the Side Hall, handling everything from serving tea and water to burning incense—tireless in her efforts. The girl said little, but she worked with brisk efficiency. Seeing her so battered and desperate today left Yun Jichu with a bitter pang in her chest.
The stark realism of this world had welled up not only during Helian Jin’s agony but also in that raw moment when Little Lian had wept and begged for mercy.
The surge of resolve from earlier scattered like dust in the wind.
Lady Shuxiu moved to press her point. “Your Ladyship will soon hold the Phoenix Seal and oversee the entire rear palace. When it comes to those who serve you, you must never—”
Yun Jichu cut her off with a wave. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to lie down.”
Lady Shuxiu froze in place for a moment, then silently escorted her to the inner chamber.
Yun Jichu hadn’t forgotten the plan she’d set that afternoon. She slept through until nightfall, then lay awake staring into the darkness until the hour grew very late. Only then did she quietly slip from the bed.
Shuxiu knew she intended to visit Fengluan Palace that night.
Perhaps sensing her melancholy mood, Shuxiu offered no further counsel and simply helped her dress in silence.
“Your Ladyship, let this servant accompany you.”
“I’ll go alone,” Yun Jichu replied.
She faced no risk of death from this venture, but if Shuxiu joined her, the inevitable exposure would spell certain doom for the woman.
It was a grievous breach of protocol.
Hadn’t Little Lian spilled her own blood over something far more trivial?
Yun Jichu didn’t want Shuxiu reduced to such a pitiful state.
“I’ll be back before you know it. No need to fret,” she said. “Douse the incense, too. The scent is overpowering—I don’t care for it.”
With Little Lian gone, the fragrance in the room had lost its familiar, pleasing strength.
Before stepping out, Yun Jichu glanced at the table. A few plates of pastries sat forlorn there, the grape flesh that had gleamed plump and fresh in the daylight now dulled and shriveled, like a mound of spoiled, moldering fruit.
In Zichen Hall, Cui Cheng arrived with the second bowl of medicine.
“Your Majesty, your health comes first,” he urged, though his words rang hollow even to him.
The Emperor threw back the draught in one gulp, rose from the bed, and strode to the desk. He lifted the Purple Sandalwood Box into his hands.
This was the last remnant left in Zichen Hall.
His Majesty had personally delivered all the prior treasures—portraits, dresses, cosmetics—to Fengluan Palace.
Cui Cheng had once offered to handle the task, only to be turned down.
He had puzzled over it afterward and concluded that His Majesty simply trusted no one else with them. To damage even one would be a loss beyond repair.
“Your Majesty, the night wind is fierce. Why not send it tomorrow?”
The Consort wouldn’t move in anytime soon, after all. There was no hurry for this final piece.
“How go the preparations at the Ministry of Rites?”
“They’re laboring day and night, but it won’t be ready until mid-month.”
“No more delays,” the Emperor declared, sweeping his gaze around the chamber. “She moves in tomorrow.”
Cui Cheng stared in astonishment. So soon?
For the Emperor and his Consort to share the Main Hall of Zichen Hall smacked of favoritism, yet with her as the sole occupant of the rear palace, it was hardly improper.
If it seemed early, well—His Majesty could summon her to reside here whenever he pleased. A single command, and who would dare refuse?
So it wasn’t truly early.
Yet if it seemed late, why the sudden haste? His Majesty had resolved to wait until the Empress enthronement ceremony before cohabiting with her.
Cui Cheng couldn’t make sense of it. He simply trailed silently in the Emperor’s wake.
Night winds gusted through, whipping His Majesty’s robes with a sharp snap.
For all the headaches that had plagued him these years—leaving him bedridden at times—his sturdy frame endured. Come wind or rain, he stood like an unyielding wall before the Two Little Highnesses.
Fengluan Palace lay just ahead. Midway there, the Emperor came to an abrupt halt.
Cui Cheng peered into the distance. Fengluan Palace, shrouded in darkness for five long years, slumbered under the night sky. Yet a single lamp flickered within, its light drifting through the gloom.
Horror seized Cui Cheng. Who dared such recklessness? Before the thought fully formed, he watched His Majesty draw a shortsword, his expression darkening like a storm, and march straight toward the palace.