Chapter 7: The Alluring Dance (Part One)

Last night, rain fell at midnight; this morning, a faint chill lingers. In the Sweet Spring Palace, peonies coaxed into bloom by charcoal fires have withered and scattered overnight, and the Empress has been comatose for three days, her life hanging by a thread. Peonies are her favorite flowers, and upon seeing them, the Emperor is overwhelmed with sorrow. In the depths of his grief, he takes up his brush and writes a decree in one fluid motion, as if clouds and water flowing together.

It reads: "If the Empress does not awaken, no peonies shall bloom in the palace. Peonies are hereby named the sovereign of all flowers, and apart from the Empress, no concubine, consort, or lady may cultivate them. Any who disobey will be sent to the Cold Palace, to remain there until death."

Who says the Empress is unloved, who says the Emperor has cast her aside? Once, the First Emperor of Qin suppressed all schools but Confucianism; today, the Emperor honors only peonies and the Empress above all the beauties of the harem.

No matter how many rumors circulate, none can match the dazzling authority of this imperial edict. It was said that the Noble Consort was favored and her beauty unrivaled, and the Lü Chancellor’s family took pride in this. Now, their faces must sting from the blow.

Some flatterers seize the chance to say: "The aristocratic families are always reserved, refined, and measured; they neither rejoice over possessions nor grieve for themselves. Compared to them, certain clans who recently entered the lowest ranks of the noble families through marriage connections are like clowns on a stage." The once rampant rumors of the Noble Consort's favor now turn against the Lü family, mocking them mercilessly. The only reason such scorn does not reach their faces is due to the Lü Dowager Empress, who bore the reigning Emperor.

The people's words are sharper than the wind; as long as there are ears, all will hear, and even the guarded inner palace cannot stop the flow, much less the well-informed high-ranking consorts.

At this moment, the Noble Consort, adorned in splendid attire, prepares to "visit" the unconscious Empress. Gazing at her reflection, she is intoxicated by her own beauty, her expression full of pride. When a close attendant approaches and whispers a few words, the polished bronze mirror suddenly reveals a hideous face—no trace of beauty remains.

"I needn't guess; the one stirring up this scandal to disgrace me must be that vile Yao Daidai! Wretch, just wait—when you're dead, the Empress's seat will be mine. I’ll have your coffin pried open and your mouth stuffed with chaff, so you can’t close it even in death. When you reincarnate, you’ll be a big-mouthed, buck-toothed ugly woman!"

She does not know that Yao Daidai’s fate is uncertain, and the Yao family has no interest in spreading rumors that harm them. They are currently at their peak, striving to restrain their prominence.

Jade Blossom Palace stands neither near the Empress’s Sweet Spring nor by the Noble Consort’s Everlasting Joy. It lies beyond the main axis of the Qianyuan Hall, beside the Taiye Pool. By imperial carriage, it takes a stick and a half of incense to reach Sweet Spring Palace, but only a little more than one stick to arrive at Jade Blossom Palace, where peach blossoms bloom in profusion and the scenery is picturesque.

At this time, the Virtuous Consort sits quietly in the waterside pavilion, waiting for the tea to steep. Her features are refined but not as beautiful as the Noble Consort, not as radiant as the Empress, her exquisite face neither above nor below average. Yet, when these features are combined with her gentle smile, she gives an impression of spring’s warmth. One glance does not astonish, but the longer one observes, the more pleasant she becomes.

A female attendant, dressed as a male servant, ascends the stone steps, her eyes bright as she approaches the Virtuous Consort, laughing as she speaks: "Your Highness, I heard a joke today. Shall I share it to amuse you?"

"Go ahead. The spring is warm, and we have nothing pressing," the Virtuous Consort replies with a gentle smile.

"Yes, Your Highness." The attendant recounts the rumor circulating from the streets into the palace, her tone gleeful, ending with a vicious remark: "Dog bites dog, let them fight. I know where the Emperor’s heart truly lies."

Her face glows with pride, almost as if she herself were the Emperor’s beloved.

The Virtuous Consort gives her a sidelong smile, lifts the boiling copper kettle, and begins to brew tea, saying, "Fenghe, your courage grows bolder by the day. Calamity comes from the tongue—do not forget where we are. Those two are not yours to judge."

Immediately, she stammers, "Your Highness, forgive me. I’ll remember, I won’t dare be careless again."

"You’re fined a month’s allowance. Do you object?"

"No, Your Highness." Fenghe kneels and bows, chagrined. "I was carried away with pride."

"So long as you know your mistake, rise."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

The bamboo blinds around the pavilion are rolled up; the water is open to view, so the Virtuous Consort fears no eavesdropping. She says, "Her family climbed into noble ranks through marriage. Now that the former Empress is the Dowager, and Yao Daidai sits securely in the central palace, if they refuse to accept their fading prominence, they’ll be left with nothing but ridicule. Our Noble Consort is no threat."

Her fair face glows with confidence in her own wit, as if all the palace’s residents are within her grasp. Even her two close attendants stand behind her with the same assured demeanor, their expressions bright.

These days in Sweet Spring Palace are especially tense. Physicians come and go, day and night blurring together. Lady Xingguo cannot linger in the palace; she knows no medicine and would only add to the trouble with tears. She visits by day, returns home at dusk, and at night instructs four attendants to keep vigil in turns.

The matter of Yao Daidai’s poisoning cannot be concealed by Ji Ye. No matter what, he must give the Yao family an explanation. The decree naming the peony as the sovereign flower, hinting at the Empress's favor, was born of this necessity. Yet such appeasement is insufficient. The Yao family insists on a thorough investigation but dare not press Ji Ye too hard, fearing the young Emperor’s resentment. Should he grow powerful, their fate would be grim.

Ji Ye understands the art of rulership well, knowing he must not chill the Yao family’s heart. He readily promises a full investigation. Thus, emperor and ministers each step back, and the balance is restored. With Yao Daidai at the center, the equilibrium remains unbroken.

Now they only await her awakening, so she may enjoy a period of favor. Ji Ye will treat her as precious, at least outwardly.

But the premise is: Yao Daidai must awaken safely.

If she does not, the Yao family will not blame Ji Ye much—at most, they will be emotionless and loyal no longer. But against those who acted and their families, the Yao family will show no mercy, destroying them all. Though lacking the power to annihilate them outright, the Yao family can still harm their sinews and bones, sacrificing much to inflict even greater damage.

The moon hangs high, the night deep and quiet. On the wide blue-brick palace road, three figures walk. The octagonal palace lantern sways gently in the breeze; Li Fuquan, fearing the flame might burn the gauze, steadies it with both hands.

Ji Ye, clad in brocade robe and jade belt, walks slowly, a jade-bone fan clenched in his hands behind his back. His brows are beautiful, yet his expression is grave.

"Tell me the truth—when will the Empress awaken?"

Yang Tiandong, plagued by worry these three days, nearly grayed with anxiety. In the palace, he is pressed by the Emperor; outside, after finally changing into clean clothes, he is threatened and bribed by every man of the Yao family. He can only smile bitterly and reply, "Your Majesty, I dare pledge my life and fortune—judging by Her Highness’s pulse, she is healthier than any robust man. The poison and miscarriage injuries have healed, yet why she remains asleep, I cannot fathom. I have searched all my medical books, and these three days I have done all I could. But I cannot understand why she won’t wake, nor why she recovered so quickly."

At first, he suspected Her Highness was feigning sleep and requested permission to use gold needles to pierce her pain points. Blood appeared at the acupoints, yet she did not wake. In doing so, he offended the protective Yao family deeply and dared not leave the palace. Feeling inadequate in his medical skill, he begged to resign but was not allowed. Now, all he can do is smile bitterly.

Ji Ye, seeing his swollen eyes, knows he is not concealing Yao Daidai’s condition out of fear, and waves him away: "Go rest, you have worked hard these three days."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Yang Tiandong does not object, bows, and withdraws. He has not slept for three days; to continue would be to die before finishing his task.

With Yang Tiandong gone, only Ji Ye and Li Fuquan remain in the quiet night.

"Your Majesty, where will you spend the night?"

Ji Ye halts, his cultured gaze sweeping over the palatial towers, yet none of their lights reflect in his eyes. He gazes at the stars, feeling lonely. His lips curve faintly, as if in a smile, and he says quietly, "Throughout the palace, there is nowhere for me to rest."

"Your Majesty jests. All of Great Yan belongs to you; how much more so the palace? All its beauties are yours," Li Fuquan replies, forcing a smile despite his clear mind, unwilling to see his young master feeling isolated—such sorrow is too much. He quickly adds, "Has Your Majesty forgotten the Virtuous Consort? She is gentle and wise, most able to comfort Your Majesty’s heart."

Ji Ye continues walking down the lonely palace road, his head lowered, eyes on the lotus-patterned blue bricks beneath his feet. He suddenly feels the urge to play hopscotch, but quickly abandons it—he is the Emperor, and must remain dignified. He walks on, his eyes empty, staring into the darkness ahead, and says, "I remember when I brought her into the palace, you said Lady Liu was lively and innocent. Now, as time passes, Lady Liu has become the Virtuous Consort, and you say she is gentle and wise. Yet the one I met while traveling incognito was not a flower that understood speech, but a rose—thorny and innocent, with a sincere heart that loved me, honest as any child or elder."

Li Fuquan lowers his head in silence.

Ji Ye laughs, "Honest as any child or elder. Ha, honest as any child or elder."

His laughter rings clear and travels far into the night.

On the ground, his shadow is thin and frail. Ji Ye gazes at the myriad stars, his eyes reflecting sparks that blaze and spread, his words resolute: "I want this empire, vast and peaceful, to achieve a legacy for the ages!"

"Your Majesty is a great ruler, you will surely fulfill your ambitions," Li Fuquan says, full of admiration and pride.

"Yes." No matter how grand the ambition, it must be pursued slowly; until success, one must eat meal by meal, live day by day. He can endure all.

To wear the crown and achieve a legacy, to be remembered in history, one must first learn to let go. My son, remember this: to have, you must first know how to give up.

Father, I can let go! I can endure!

"Li Fuquan, to Sweet Spring Palace. I wish to visit the Empress."