Chapter 24: Toppling the Imperial Consort (Part Two)

Seven years ago, the late emperor fell gravely ill without warning, and Ji Ye ascended the throne in haste. At that time, he was barely fifteen, not yet of age, and thus by ancestral custom, Empress Dowager Lü presided over court affairs behind a curtain. Yet she, a woman long secluded in the inner palace, knew nothing of governance; every audience she held was muddled and confused. Fearing deceit and the usurpation of power by court officials, she heeded the advice of her lady-in-waiting—her own sister-in-law—and vigorously promoted members of the Lü clan to strengthen her position.

With a weak ruler and strong ministers, it was only natural that the Empress Dowager, a woman, harbored mistrust toward these seasoned statesmen. At that time, the six prime ministers turned a blind eye and allowed her to act as she wished, but for the sake of the realm, they refused to relinquish certain key posts of real authority. The influence of the Lü clan was formidable, yet they still feared the six prime ministers—a consequence of the governance system in Great Yan, where imperial authority, though supreme, could be checked by the ministers, who had the right to reject unreasonable imperial policies. Typically, memorials were first reviewed by the prime ministers before reaching the emperor.

Moreover, all six prime ministers hailed from powerful aristocratic families, their backing substantial. Thus, despite being imperial relatives, the Lü clan dared not act recklessly. When those in power within the Lü family realized they could not further penetrate the upper echelons dominated by the prime ministers, they shifted their focus to the emperor’s consort.

The Empress Dowager, indecisive and trusting, relied greatly on her ambitious sister-in-law, Lady Kang. At her urging, the Dowager brought her niece close, showered her with affection—so much so that even the palace’s legitimate princesses deferred to her. She frequently summoned Ji Ye to her palace, creating every opportunity for her niece and her imperial son to be alone together.

Her plan—proximity breeding favor—was clever enough, yet she did not truly understand her own son. Ji Ye, aware of his weakness, presented himself as an obedient puppet to his mother and her clan, while showing courtesy and humility toward the ministers, eagerly seeking their counsel. In political matters, he observed more than he spoke, never arguing with the powerful. Whenever he could not comprehend a political decision, he would personally consult the six prime ministers, esteemed scholars, and his three tutors after court.

Thus, his image as pure, filial, respectful of talent, gentle and benevolent spread quickly throughout the court and into the streets and alleys. Loyal ministers rejoiced, praising the late emperor’s discerning choice of successor; gradually, the talented and virtuous gathered round, while the treacherous and petty quietly withdrew in fear.

The stability of the ministers, the alignment of the people’s hearts—this was the fruit of Ji Ye’s careful management. Otherwise, You Hai would not have lauded him as a born ruler.

Now, it was the second year of Yong’an, Ji Ye’s second year on the throne. He understood well that to truly master the powerful ministers below and implement his own policies, he needed formidable authority. To accumulate such authority and ensure the ministers dared not defy him, he must win the hearts of the people—a slow process to be pursued after he assumed full power. For now, to consolidate his throne and stabilize the state, he must keep the ministers content—thus, the art of imperial balance.

The six prime ministers controlled the government, while the imperial relatives stirred among the lower officials—a delicate equilibrium. Yet if the Lü clan coveted the position of empress and their candidate bore the legitimate heir, division would arise among the ministers, gradually weakening their influence and strengthening the Lü clan. If the relatives wielded power, aided by the Dowager’s support from within, Ji Ye’s life would be at risk.

In such circumstances, You Daidai entered his sight.

Only the You clan dared to offend the Lü relatives and the Empress Dowager. In the rivalry for the empress’s position, only You Daidai would dare compete with the Dowager’s niece, Lü Xiangjun.

If he married You Daidai, his life would be safe, his throne secure.

Thus, just as the Lü clan believed the empress’s position was theirs for the taking, You Daidai burst forth.

During a springtime outing in the peach groves, she unexpectedly fell into a pool, and he rescued her by chance. In the process, he saw what he should not have seen, touched what he should not have touched—a dashing youth, stirring the heart of the maiden. Thus, he became her hero, the man of her dreams. With intent against innocence, the young girl was no match for the palace-raised crown prince; she gave her heart to him, vowing never to wed another. He accepted her “reluctantly,” and so, who else could be empress but You Daidai? The You clan would never allow their precious girl to be a concubine.

From childhood, the sons of the You family doted on her, their lucky charm, giving her only the best—this time was no exception.

But since You Daidai was still young, the betrothal was set, with the wedding to take place four years later, when she came of age. Lü Xiangjun, however, was old enough—two years older than Ji Ye. Having been proposed to the emperor, she could only marry him. To appease the Dowager, Ji Ye granted her the title of Noble Consort that same year.

Noble, Virtuous, Gracious, and Wise—first among the four consorts, second only to the empress.

Even so, in Lü Xiangjun’s eyes, this was an insult.

Noble Consort—no matter how exalted, she was not empress, not the mother of the realm!

Just a hair’s breadth away, the throne was hers—snatched by an upstart girl. How could she not hate? Even now, Lü Xiangjun believed herself the true empress, the rightful mistress of the harem.

Thus, since You Daidai’s marriage to Ji Ye and entry into the palace three years ago, Lü Xiangjun regarded her as a thorn in her side, opposing her at every turn.

Having entered the palace four years earlier and with the Dowager’s support and the phoenix seal in hand, Lü Xiangjun had cultivated her influence in the harem—You Daidai was no match, suffering repeated, unjust humiliation. Frustrated, You Daidai’s actions led to the Noble Consort’s miscarriage—not intentional, but she could not shirk responsibility. Afterward, with the Noble Consort regaining the phoenix seal, You Daidai was sidelined; empress in name but deprived of authority over the harem. Her only support lay in Ganquan Palace, thanks to the tireless efforts of four loyal lady officials.

Ji Ye was fully aware of all this.

So when Li Fuquan reported that the Noble Consort had suffered a loss this time, Ji Ye was surprised. Ever since Lü had held the phoenix seal, it was always Daidai who suffered—only after he intervened and had the Virtuous Consort share power with the Noble Consort did Daidai’s life improve.

Late spring, early summer—the imperial garden was ablaze with blossoms. Ji Ye glanced inadvertently at a cluster of magnificent peonies, his narrow dragon eyes flickering, the hand behind his back clenched tightly.

His buried conscience stirred faintly.

But he was not an ordinary man—he was emperor first, then husband or father. The realm before the family.

He lowered his gaze, and the light in his eyes grew cold and somber once more.

What he had done before, he would continue to do. The emperor errs not!

Yet when he saw the scene, the stark confrontation between the two palaces—with one side strong in numbers, the other weak and few—his face darkened. No matter what, Daidai was empress; the Noble Consort had gone too far.

“Your Majesty, at last you have arrived.”

The Virtuous Consort straightened her crooked hairpin, hurried forward with a pained expression, kneeling to beg forgiveness.

The maids, who had been shoving each other, were instantly terrified, kneeling together and pleading, “Your Majesty, forgive us.”

A newly promoted lady from the Noble Consort’s palace crawled to Ji Ye’s feet, her tears streaming in beauty, pleading, “Your Majesty, please save our lady, she’s about to be beaten to death by the Empress!”

You Hai glared at the lady, cursing inwardly.

“Frightened, I see.” Ji Ye’s side kicked the prostrate lady, making her spit blood, while he gently consoled the Virtuous Consort.

She bit her lip, pale but resilient, shaking her head and understanding, “Your Majesty, you should see to the Noble Consort and the Empress.”

Nearby, the Noble Consort lay beneath Daidai, her hair disheveled, blood streaking her swollen chin. Hearing Ji Ye’s arrival, her eyes reddened, choking out a pitiful cry, “Your Majesty, save me!”

She looked as if Daidai had abused her terribly.

You Hai sensed trouble, raising his brows and signaling Daidai to accuse first, but no matter how he gestured, Daidai remained unmoved.

Ji Ye approached, and Daidai, fierce, tugged at the Noble Consort’s ear and hair, snarling, “Remember this—from now on, this path is mine. If you try to walk it, I’ll strangle you!”

Ji Ye’s face grew dark; he finally believed Daidai had bested the Noble Consort—not by cunning, but by force.

“Daidai!” Ji Ye reprimanded. “Let go! Look at yourselves—what decorum is this? Do you have any dignity left?”

“Your Majesty, please save me—the Empress is too cruel!” The Noble Consort’s tears fell, mixing with the mud and dust on her face, making her look both ugly and comical.

Daidai pursed her lips, confused as she looked at the angry Ji Ye. The atmosphere was off, the blame seeming to fall solely on her.

She could not think how to explain, but suddenly brightened, looking at Ji Ye with delight, “My king, I was just preparing to lay an egg—no, have a child for you.” Her attitude toward Ji Ye was delicate—half ingratiating, half wanting to lord it over him.

Ji Ye’s anger, rising to his throat, turned into a fish bone stuck in his neck. He opened and closed his mouth, sighed, and pulled her up, helpless, “Tell me, what happened? Why did you hit the Noble Consort?”

“She’s annoying,” Daidai answered truthfully, frowning.

Ji Ye glanced at the Noble Consort’s entourage, then personally helped her up, “Bringing so many to block the Empress—what was the Noble Consort intending?”

Lü Xiangjun’s heart chilled, her liver wounded, tears streaming—this time, she truly cried.

“Your Majesty, you come and immediately side with her, without hearing reason? In your heart, she’s first, I’m second, and those others—third, fourth, and so on. But with me, you show no pity at all. Is my heart not flesh, to be stabbed by you again and again?”

She pointed at the Virtuous Consort, hiding weakly by Ji Ye’s side, then glared hatefully at Daidai.

You Hai hurriedly retreated twenty paces, keeping his distance. Li Fuquan smartly waved away the maids and eunuchs, then lowered his head, staring at the ground like a wall painting.

Ji Ye twisted the ink jade ring on his thumb, enduringly replied, “If you keep to your place, even I would not wound your heart. If you guard your true self and follow the rules, you will always be my Noble Consort—my responsibility.”

Lü Xiangjun, unwilling, protested, “I have given everything to you, only to hear that I am your responsibility? Is that fair? Or have you given your true love to someone else?” She feigned confusion, glancing at Daidai, then at the Virtuous Consort, continuing to weep, “But what makes others better than me? What virtue or merit has that wretch to obtain what I have dreamed of? Your Majesty, cousin, you have truly wronged me—why did I ever fall in love with an emperor?”

With that, she buried herself in her lady’s shoulder, sobbing and trembling.

The Virtuous Consort, holding her forehead, nearly collapsed, as if the midday sun had wilted her. She murmured, “Your Majesty, I feel dizzy—may I return to my chambers?”

Behind the Noble Consort, the Virtuous Consort gazed at Ji Ye with deep affection, her autumn-water eyes brimming with longing and love.

Ji Ye squeezed her palm, pleased, nodding, “Go ahead.”

Daidai, observing the drama, sensed something was wrong, but muddled, could only fret. Losing patience, laziness, and a longing to see him, she shoved past the Virtuous Consort, gleefully pulling Ji Ye toward the imperial carriage.

“Where did you go? I woke up and didn’t see you.” Her tone was childlike, ignoring everyone else.

The Virtuous Consort stumbled, nearly falling, biting her lip in silent suffering, casting a plaintive glance at Ji Ye as she prepared to withdraw.

Ji Ye glared at Daidai, who blinked, tilting her head to peer at the Virtuous Consort, puzzled but quickly cheering up, “I’m so amazing—just being near her makes her stumble.” Feeling like a powerful demon, she grinned.

The Virtuous Consort’s face turned stiff and pale, her eyes misty. She held back tears, enduring, “It’s my fault—I’ve always been weak since childhood, the sun makes me dizzy. Your Majesty, Empress, I take my leave.” With a frail and conciliatory silhouette, she departed quietly.

The contest between the two consorts, the victor was clear.

The Noble Consort lowered her head, smirked coldly, wiped away her tears, and stared stubbornly at Ji Ye, “If Your Majesty won’t stand up for me, then I will seek someone who will.”

“She’s looking for help to seize my territory,” Daidai declared solemnly.

Ji Ye, torn between laughter and tears, relaxed into the cushions, waving, “You Ai Qing, accompany me to Ganquan Palace for lunch.” The General of the Cavalry had just rendered great service; he had every reason to protect her.

With Lü gone, the Empress Dowager would soon intervene.

You Hai, being far away, had not heard Ji Ye’s exchange with the two consorts. Noting Ji Ye’s gentle attitude toward Daidai, he relaxed, half reassured, and bowed, “Yes.”

Daidai, hands on hips, brimming with fighting spirit, waved grandly, “Late spring—go to the snake house and bring me ten—no, a hundred little snakes. I want them to come in upright and leave crawling.”

Ji Ye’s body stiffened, suddenly recalling—aah, his bedchamber was now the domain of black pythons.

“You Daidai!” The dissipated anger condensed into molten fury, erupting at Daidai.

She paid him no heed, pouting as she bit his thin lips, her soft body nestling between his legs, murmuring, “Hurry, eat my lips.”

Under the bright sun, with all eyes upon them, even her uncle was forced to cover his face with a sleeve in shame.

This creature surely wasn’t a product of his family. He wondered if it was still possible to sever ties.

Meanwhile, a seed of suspicion quietly took root in his heart.