Chapter 1: The Demon in Disguise

The flowers bloomed in decadent splendor, petals falling lightly, while the clear brook murmured on. Upon a mossy green stone in the water, a great indigo serpent lay coiled and peacefully asleep, a faint golden radiance enveloping its body, golden scales already sprouting along its tail.

On that day at Mount Hua, after drinking a hundred-day intoxication brewed by a flower spirit, it had slumbered for three hundred years. When it opened its eyes again, peonies were in full bloom, radiant in crimson and purple hues. The dawn breeze swept past the willow tips, carrying petals that fluttered before its eyes. The serpent raised its triangular head, flicked out a bright red tongue to taste the fragrance, and gazed down with jade-green eyes at the flowery-bellied koi swimming in the brook. The flowers and leaves were as they had always been before its den, filling it with contentment.

Just as it intended to stretch its body, coiled for three centuries, an unexpected mishap occurred.

With a splash, it tumbled to the ground. The tail that could once hook and anchor itself to the stone had stiffened into two human legs.

It stared, dazed, at the pair of human feet now encased in peony-embroidered shoes. Suspicion arose in its serpentine heart—for all its years as a spirit, though somewhat indolent, it had long since mastered the art of transformation. If it had not willed it, how could it awaken in human form?

"Your Majesty?!"

Before it could think further, a sharp, frightened woman’s cry shattered the silence, as if breaking a boundary. Flowers, leaves, water, and stone began to move. What appeared before it was no longer the familiar mossy stone, but a human bed—a human bed!

The palace maid, seeing the empress herself sprawled on the floor as if stunned senseless, paled with terror and fell to her knees, sobbing and begging, "Your Majesty, please spare me! I dare not again, I dare not again!"

Her voice broke into a terrified wail, as though the empress were a ruthless executioner.

"Your Majesty!"

Another shrill voice rang out. Qingdai’s eyes, stiff with shock, slowly turned to see a slender woman in men’s attire rushing over, her face full of anxiety.

"Your Majesty, what has happened? Why are you on the floor?" She quickly went to help her up, turning to scold the kneeling maid. "Xiaji, how have you been serving Her Majesty?"

"Springend, I dare not again, never again, wuwu…"

"All you know is to cry! Go fetch the imperial physician at once! If anything happens to Her Majesty or the little prince in her womb, your life and your entire family’s won’t be enough to atone! Move!"

"Yes, right away!" Xiaji scrambled up, lifted her skirt, and ran out, vanishing through the moon gate.

"Your Majesty, please say something! Don’t frighten your servant so," Springend pleaded, seeing the empress’s vacant stare, panic rising as she knelt and gently shook her mistress’s arm.

Suddenly, Qingdai shoved Springend aside, leapt up, and made for the lake. But three hundred years without taking human form had made her forget how to walk; she stumbled and fell heavily once more.

Springend’s eyes widened in shock, and her shriek nearly pierced the eardrums, "Your Majesty!"

Though quick to react, she still couldn’t catch her mistress in time. The empress’s legs seemed as soft as mud, twisting beneath her before she landed with a resounding thud, a shallow dent forming in the grass.

Springend’s heart lurched, her face turning ashen with dread as she cried, "Someone, call the imperial physician at once!" Her urgency was palpable.

"I am fine. Hold your tongue," Qingdai shot her a cold glance, unable to bear such mortal fuss. Was this not merely a fall? She hadn’t been skinned, boiled, or stewed, after all.

Springend swallowed her words, eyes widening before she assumed a sly expression, as if she had seen through her mistress’s little ruse. In a low voice, she said, "Understood, Your Majesty. I shall summon His Majesty at once. Rest assured, I will bring him to you." With that, she turned smartly and left.

Qingdai’s thoughts still lingered in her former life as a spirit; she could not fathom the connection between her fall and summoning the emperor. But that was a trivial matter. What she desired most now was—to return to her den!

When she leaned over the lake and gazed at her reflection, she saw a face that was not her own.

This meant she had likely left her body while in deep sleep, and unconsciously seized another’s mortal shell.

This boded ill. For a spirit to possess a mortal’s body was a great crime. With her heavenly tribulation fast approaching, if she did not quickly restore the rightful soul to this body, she would suffer lightning punishment tenfold worse than any before—her life would be forfeit.

It was the eighth year of Yong’an, a balmy mid-spring afternoon. Clouds unfurled, dyed ginger by the setting sun, as dusk gathered on the distant horizon. A few crows flew above the Qianyuan Hall and vanished into the depths of the palace, settling in the dense crown of a grand banyan tree, their calls subsiding into silence.

Inside the palace, dragons and phoenixes were carved in gold, a hall resplendent with splendor. Above the main chamber hung a black plaque inscribed in gold with the words "Upright and Magnanimous," written in precise calligraphy. Below, four golden dragon pillars formed an area for official business. On the crimson dais, the desk and chairs were draped in black brocade embroidered with gold threads. Seated upright in the chair was a man in a dark robe patterned with silver dragons, black hair cascading over his shoulders, his topknot secured with a black jade hairpiece. His brows were like phoenix wings, his eyes like dragons; one glance was enough to command awe.

Chief Eunuch Li Fuquan hesitated for a long while before seizing the moment as the man above stretched and rested, bowing low to make his report. "Your Majesty, Lady Springend of Ganquan Palace reports that Her Majesty the Empress is unwell and requests Your Majesty’s presence."

"Heh." Ji Ye let out a cold chuckle. At the foot of the white jade steps, Li Fuquan bent even lower, holding his breath, striving to make himself invisible.

"Our empress treats me as her personal physician. At the slightest cough or chill, she must summon me," Ji Ye remarked, writing "Noted" in red ink on a memorial before pausing, his dragon eyes gazing distantly, as if adjusting his focus or resting his sight. Li Fuquan silently counted to three before hearing the emperor speak again. "Tonight, I’ll go to Yaohua Palace. Dismiss the request from Ganquan Palace."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Li Fuquan replied with a bow.

"Wait."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Li Fuquan waited quietly.

Ji Ye rose, hesitated, then asked, "How many months along is the empress now?"

"Your Majesty, it has been roughly three months."

"Three months already." Ji Ye sighed softly.

At that, Li Fuquan shrank even smaller, bowing his head so low he looked like an old man, though he was barely past thirty and in his prime.

Ji Ye shot him a cold glance and said indifferently, "The peonies in Her Majesty’s chambers need changing. See to it."

"Yes, Your Majesty."