Ex-Girlfriend – Chapter 31
by Little PandaPower Overwhelming the Court
Deposed Empress 06
Covering the Sky with One Hand
The voice seemed to carry a soothing power. Ah Rou gasped silently, tugging hard at the sleeve of the person behind her, pointing ahead. Her savior seemed intimately familiar with the place, leading her through the rear passage, past arched gates and winding corridors, circling around to a different location. Ah Rou couldn’t make out her rescuer’s face in the darkness, nor could she tell where this path led — she only knew that they’d shaken off their pursuers.
Her rescuer walked on, then stopped. Ah Rou watched her push open a vermilion-lacquered door, guide her inside, and close it again. It seemed to mean safety. Ah Rou exhaled in relief — but then, by the lamplight, she finally saw the face of the person who’d been pulling her along, and that breath caught in her throat again.
It was the deposed Empress!
For a moment, chaos flooded her mind. Ah Rou wanted to speak but didn’t know what to do. But then she thought of her mistress, now lying lifeless in her palace, and Ah Rou made up her mind.
Biyue Palace.
Xin Lan sat down in a chair, brushing the dust from her robes. She’d originally meant to stay out of this. But then Zero Nine told her that Consort Liu’s personal maid was fleeing, with someone in pursuit. The girl had to know something. Xin Lan had even heard a conversation between the maid and another person relayed by Zero Nine — which meant this servant knew the truth. So Xin Lan had gone out immediately to save her.
“Master, isn’t that Consort Liu’s maid?”
Chun Yue slept in the outer chamber. Xin Lan’s movements had woken her — her master had left without a word, and Chun Yue hadn’t asked, just waited for her return. Last time, she’d brought back an unknown man. This time, it was Consort Liu’s maidservant.
Ah Rou nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a few hoarse, breathy sounds came out. She pointed at her throat and waved her hand at Xin Lan.
“You can’t speak?”
Ah Rou nodded.
Xin Lan looked at the bruises on the girl’s neck and her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
She’d likely been choked while trying to scream, damaging her vocal cords. Temporarily, she couldn’t make a sound.
Keeping her hidden here was no problem. Xin Lan figured she could try to get some medicine tomorrow — the apothecaries outside would probably all be closed by now.
“You should rest for now. There might be extra bedding in the side chamber, or you can share with Chun Yue.”
Xin Lan said this, but saw Ah Rou frantically grab her sleeve.
“You have something to tell me?”
Ah Rou nodded desperately. If she didn’t say it now, she’d never find peace.
“Can you write?”
Ah Rou shook her head. She didn’t know how to read or write.
“Then wait until your voice recovers,” Xin Lan said.
Zero Nine: “Host, I scanned her throat damage and her natural healing rate without medication. It’ll take at least four days before she can speak.”
Xin Lan’s brow creased again at this. Four days’ delay shouldn’t be a huge problem.
But Ah Rou shook her head again, frantic. Even if she knew she could walk out of here tomorrow, go to the Hall of Supreme Harmony, and tell the Emperor everything — right now, she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know if she’d be able to talk by tomorrow, or what would happen to her.
The deposed Empress had ended up here because her mistress’s child had been miscarried. If she knew the truth, she’d surely tell someone — one more person carrying that woman’s secret meant that even if Ah Rou died, someone could speak for her.
Ah Rou felt that if that person dared to kill her mistress like that, even if she went to the Emperor herself, she might still die. If this matter weren’t made known tonight, she’d never be able to rest easy.
She pointed at Chun Yue, then at Xin Lan, then at herself, and finally at the empty air beside her.
“Me… master… you… what?”
Chun Yue looked confused. But Xin Lan, who already knew the background, understood what Ah Rou was trying to say.
“You mean your mistress?”
Ah Rou nodded frantically, then drew a finger across her throat.
“Dead?”
Ah Rou nodded again, sorrow filling her eyes.
“Consort Liu is dead?”
Xin Lan put on a shocked expression. Beside her, Chun Yue’s face showed genuine horror.
“How did she die?”
Ah Rou clutched her chest, suddenly crumpled to the floor, then scrambled back up.
Xin Lan understood she was reenacting the scene, but the manner of death wasn’t the most important thing — she’d only asked as a formality. There was definitely a killer.
“Do you know who did it?”
Ah Rou nodded. She swayed unsteadily, striking a dancing pose, her eyes fixed on Xin Lan.
“Consort Man?”
Ah Rou stopped. She’d been frantic, unable to speak. Thank goodness the deposed Empress understood her meaning.
“So it was her.”
Xin Lan murmured, unsurprised. She’d already been suspecting either Consort Xi or Consort Man. Noble Consort was less likely — she seemed too loudly arrogant to have the nerve for something like this.
Xin Lan thought Ah Rou was done, but the maid kept gesturing.
She patted her belly vaguely, signaling to Xin Lan.
“Child?”
“No?”
“Ceiling?”
When Xin Lan guessed the last one, Ah Rou shook her head, walked outside, and pointed at the sky.
“Sky?”
Ah Rou nodded, then repeated those three motions.
“Child… no… sky… the child isn’t the Son of Heaven’s?”
Xin Lan connected the dots, her eyes widening slightly.
That… that green of a cuckold?
Chun Yue clapped a hand over her mouth in shock. This was too…
Seeing that Xin Lan understood, Ah Rou nodded happily — but then saw they seemed to have misunderstood something else. She waved her hands frantically, her face turning red, tears of desperation springing to her eyes.
“Don’t panic. Take it slow.”
Xin Lan’s initial thought was that Consort Liu had gotten involved with some other man, then gotten pregnant. She’d tried to abort the child, but Consort Man found out and used it to blackmail her — making her announce the pregnancy, then using it to frame the original Empress.
But if that were the case, Consort Man had no reason to kill Consort Liu.
So there had to be more to it. Consort Man would only strike so ruthlessly if Consort Liu’s very existence threatened her — not her status, but something she knew that she shouldn’t.
Ah Rou took a deep breath. She didn’t know sign language, so she could only explain word by word, using her own gestures.
“Consort Man… caught your mistress?”
From Ah Rou’s pantomime, Xin Lan pieced together the sequence.
Consort Man had seized Consort Liu, had men do that to her, and Consort Liu became pregnant. She then used the child in Consort Liu’s belly to frame the original Empress.
A perfect chain of plots. The methods weren’t especially sophisticated, but they were utterly unexpected — this was the Emperor’s own harem, after all. Forcing the Emperor’s consort to be violated by another man, then using the resulting illegitimate child to eliminate a rival — if not for Ah Rou, Xin Lan would never have imagined it.
People’s thinking defaulted to jealousy or other motives. No one would suspect the child wasn’t actually of imperial blood.
Ah Rou gestured a few more times, then helplessly lowered her hands.
She clutched her head, looking utterly lost.
Xin Lan moved closer and patted her shoulder, trying to calm her.
“There’s more to say?”
Ah Rou looked up, tears streaming as she nodded.
“But you can’t mime it anymore?”
Ah Rou nodded, tugging at Xin Lan’s sleeve, completely helpless.
“It’s all right, don’t rush. I already know some of it. Get some rest now — stay hidden here. We’ll see how your throat is tomorrow.”
Ah Rou could only nod.
“Chun Yue, let her share your bed.”
Chun Yue nodded. Learning such a massive secret tonight had left her dizzy and reeling.
Xin Lan collapsed onto her bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Consort Man. Consort Liu. And that secret Ah Rou knew but couldn’t yet express.
It had to be something big, something very interesting — something that made Consort Man desperate enough to kill.
Xin Lan felt she’d already guessed roughly what that secret was. She had a baseline.
But once dawn came, news of Consort Liu’s death would spread. How Consort Man chose to handle the fallout didn’t concern Xin Lan — what mattered was how Ah Rou should deliver her testimony.
Until Ah Rou came forward, Consort Man would be frantically searching for her, desperate to silence her.
But this was the imperial palace. Without the Emperor’s authority or a legitimate reason, finding someone and killing them without raising alarm — that wasn’t easy.
Still, Xin Lan was certain Consort Man had people close to the Emperor.
If she brought Ah Rou — who still couldn’t speak, only gesture — before the Emperor, he’d absolutely keep the girl around. But her safety wouldn’t be guaranteed.
If Consort Man knew Ah Rou was with the Emperor, she’d have a target, and striking would be much easier.
Xin Lan wasn’t sure if she was overestimating Consort Man, but she knew it was better to overestimate — to use a sledgehammer to kill a chicken — than to underestimate.
But if she kept the girl hidden here for four or five days, then let her come forward, the situation would be different.
Timing was everything. Ideally, Ah Rou would be able to speak by tomorrow.
The story had to be told — but Xin Lan herself had to be completely removed from it. If the Xin family got dragged into this, the Emperor’s trust in Ah Rou’s testimony would be compromised. Truth could become false, and that would spoil everything.
Human suspicion was strange like that. Truth could be twisted into lies, and fabrications could be taken as fact.
Xin Lan needed medicine to treat Ah Rou’s throat — but where could she get it?
Zero Nine: “Host, are you planning to take down Consort Man? I thought you’d save her for last.”
Consort Man was a princess of a foreign state. That identity was delicate — useful when political relations were cordial, but deeply awkward when they weren’t.
The Emperor still had internal troubles to resolve; he wouldn’t court external conflict. But that didn’t mean external conflict wouldn’t come to him.
From Xin Lan’s perspective, Consort Man was temporarily working toward the same goal she was — but the scope of Consort Man’s schemes was far larger, something Xin Lan absolutely could not tolerate.
She was a difficult pawn to use well. Abandoning her seemed wasteful, but using her risked being cut by her own blade.
Xin Lan weighed the options and finally decided to upset the balance of the harem. Let the Emperor’s own hand dispose of one.
After all, in a sense, Consort Man was one of those who’d harmed the original Empress. Palace struggles — lose and you lose — but that didn’t mean Xin Lan couldn’t strike back.
If the Emperor learned what Consort Man had done, he would never tolerate it.
He was already exhausted from balancing the factions while slowly uprooting the Xin family.
But this move would affect everything. Xin Lan didn’t know if the Emperor would turn it to his advantage and use it as an excuse for more frame-ups.
Xin Lan pressed her temples and made up her mind.
Every detail, every root, every branch — she had to handle it all herself.
She climbed out the window, activated her qinggong1, and silently slipped out of the palace. Her figure vanished into the vast night.
In Yunxi Palace, Consort Man was gripping her teacup so hard that hairline cracks appeared in the porcelain. The cup shattered on the table, spilling tea across the surface in a messy pool.
“That wretched girl has no sense at all. And you — useless, can’t even catch a single maid. She must know about her mistress’s affairs. We have to find her.”
Consort Man’s beautiful face twisted with rage, though her voice remained soft and sweet despite the fury burning in her chest.
She never imagined that private conversation would be overheard so conveniently by Consort Liu, who’d been resting by the fake mountain. She’d wanted to kill her then, but a better idea came to mind.
There hadn’t been a single imperial child in the harem for years — and she’d contributed to that. Continuing those methods would eventually alert the Emperor. Better to let a low-ranking consort bear a child of no imperial blood. A pregnancy would let the Emperor breathe easier while shifting his attention elsewhere.
Everything had gone exactly as she’d planned — until that little slut tried to secretly abort the child. That wouldn’t do.
The abortifacient had already been consumed. Nothing could undo it now. So Consort Man bribed someone to pin everything on the Empress, riding the momentum to give the Emperor his excuse to depose her.
It wasn’t as if the Xin family would ever be on her side anyway. Better to strike first and weaken them. But she hadn’t expected the Xins to have a backup plan.
In the end, aside from driving Xin Lan out, she’d gained nothing.
She’d already been furious at Consort Liu for ruining her plans. Now the woman had grown bold enough to try threatening her.
Consort Man forced herself to calm down. She dispatched more people to search. If the truth came out, she had ways to deal with it — but she’d have to lie low for many days.
The person she’d marked for death was also sleepless.
Ah Rou lay in bed, eyes wide open, no trace of drowsiness.
Her body was rigid. Even in the heat of summer, she felt waves of cold washing over her.
Chun Yue lay beside her, also wide awake.
Her master had changed. The other palace maids didn’t know, but Chun Yue — who’d served her for four years — knew perfectly well.
She’d become much stronger. And much harder to read. There was a distance to her now, a wariness.
The change had started the day they moved to the cold palace, Chun Yue thought. Perhaps her master had been so traumatized by the deposition that her behavior grew strange.
There was the discovery of He Hua’s betrayal, the sudden disappearances from her room and reappearances from outside — once with a strange man — the unreasonable barging in of that search party, and now tonight: leaving without a word and returning with Consort Liu’s maid.
Chun Yue had been serving her master all along, yet she realized she understood less and less.
What she did understand was that her master had grown far more capable than before, in every way.
Chun Yue closed her eyes. Never mind. Thinking about it wouldn’t help. She’d just do as her master said.
Shang An was drifting off to sleep when he sensed someone watching him.
He opened his eyes and met a pair of pitch-black pupils staring down at him. The shock jolted him fully awake.
Before him stood a person in a face veil — a woman, from her silhouette.
He wasn’t yet married. A veiled woman breaking into his room in the dead of night was bizarre, but his heart still skipped a beat.
“Miss… may I ask why you’ve broken into my room so late?”
“For a throat injury, what medicine should be used? Do you know?”
Xin Lan had not only veiled herself but deliberately altered her voice — dropping her usual gentle-with-an-edge tone for something more distinctly commanding.
“I do know. I’m a physician. You’re here to buy medicine?”
A veiled woman buying medicine in the middle of the night was certainly strange. But she hadn’t stolen anything or committed any crime, so Shang An chose to overlook it.
“Yes. Can you decoct it and pack it for me? I won’t short you on silver.”
“How was the injury caused?”
“Someone choked her throat while she was screaming. Now she can’t make a sound.”
At Xin Lan’s words, Shang An felt a chill of unease.
He’d just begun to shrink back when the woman’s cold glare cowed him.
“I’ll prepare the herbs and boil the medicine now. If the injury isn’t too severe, a dose or two should let her speak within a day or two.”
Xin Lan nodded. She’d originally planned to go to the Imperial Medical Bureau, but Consort Xi had people stationed there, so she’d decided against it.
Shang An nervously gathered the ingredients and decocted the medicine, the woman’s eyes boring into his back the whole time.
The boiling medicine in a bowl would be inconvenient to carry, so Shang An found a wine flask and poured the liquid into it.
“Thank you.”
Xin Lan left a small piece of silver and prepared to leave.
Shang An pocketed far more than the medicine was worth. He watched the door close and muttered to himself in confusion. But he was never one to dwell on things. He stripped off his outer robe, flopped back onto his bed, and went back to sleep.
Xin Lan carried the flask back to the palace immediately. She softly called Ah Rou’s name. The maid sat up so fast she’d clearly never been asleep.
“Wait until it cools, then drink this.”
Xin Lan handed over the flask. Ah Rou took it, startled.
“I had someone in the Imperial Medical Bureau prepare it secretly. Let’s hope it works.”
Ah Rou shot her a grateful look, though in the darkness, she could barely make out Xin Lan’s face.
Holding the still-warm flask of medicine, Ah Rou felt a pang of guilt.
Her resolve hardened. Her mistress was innocent. The deposed Empress was innocent too. Only Consort Man was guilty. This servant had to tell everything, let His Majesty deliver justice.
Xin Lan, expressionless, lay back down on her bed and pulled up the covers.
Very tired. Time to sleep.
The medicine Ah Rou drank that night worked. She could speak by morning, though her voice was very faint. Chun Yue brought her hot water to moisten her throat.
Si Tong was curious about the newcomer who’d appeared overnight. She quietly asked Chun Yue what was going on.
While Chun Yue and Si Tong filled each other in, Ah Rou followed Xin Lan into the inner chamber and told her the whole story.
Some days ago, Consort Liu had gone for a walk in the gardens. She didn’t want too many attendants, so she brought only Ah Rou. On the way, Consort Liu realized her favorite sachet was missing — likely snagged by a branch. Ah Rou went back to look for it while Consort Liu rested against a rock formation. But in those few moments, she accidentally overheard Consort Man speaking with someone. She didn’t know who, but when she tried to leave, Consort Man caught her.
“That day, it took me ages to find my mistress. She was standing there, deathly pale and completely dazed. After we got back, she just held me and cried, wouldn’t say what happened. Later, she realized she was sleeping all the time and feeling nauseous, and she got frantic. She told me everything. I don’t know how Consort Man found out about the pregnancy, but she came to threaten my mistress — wouldn’t let her abort the child, insisted on making it public. My mistress had no choice… Your Majesty, my mistress was innocent too. Please don’t blame her.”
Ah Rou spoke slowly, forcing the words out clearly. Her mistress was gone. This servant had to avenge her.
She revealed the secret Consort Liu had accidentally heard Consort Man discussing. It was close to what Xin Lan had already guessed.
Ah Rou looked at Xin Lan’s unreadable expression and felt a strange dread.
“If I’m not mistaken, news of your mistress’s death will spread through the palace today.”
Ah Rou’s heart clenched. Her nose stung with grief.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for saving me last night. This servant will go to the Hall of Supreme Harmony now and report everything to His Majesty.”
“What you’ve said isn’t complete.”
“What?”
“The secret Consort Liu overheard — there’s more to it. Write down what I’m about to say and add it in. Understand?”
Ah Rou nodded dumbly as Xin Lan added several lines that made her blood run cold.
What did it mean — making sure no one in the harem bore a child, so that only she could become pregnant, carry a child of Daqing?
These few sentences, added to the traitorous plot, sketched out a chilling conspiracy.
“You want to avenge your mistress, don’t you?”
Ah Rou nodded.
“Then remember this: that’s what Consort Liu overheard that day. You never entered Biyue Palace last night — you just found an empty, out-of-the-way place to sleep. Understand?”
“This servant understands.”
“Go, then.”
Xin Lan watched Ah Rou glance furtively around before slipping out of Biyue Palace’s main gate and hurrying away.
Xin Lan had Si Tong close the palace gate, then sat in her own room, directing Zero Nine to monitor the situation.
Qu Zhian had just finished morning court and was heading out when the Emperor’s personal eunuch called her back. She paused, knowing she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
She’d spent the past two days pretending not to notice, politely deflecting the Emperor’s ambiguous words and gestures while secretly making preparations for her own escape route.
The Emperor’s temper was unpredictable — and with him clearly intending to use her, it was deeply unsettling. On top of that, she’d found herself thinking of Xin Lan before bed these past two nights, making her dislike for the Emperor even stronger. But she still had to keep up appearances.
The Emperor wanted to discuss matters of state, of course. Qu Zhian sighed inwardly but rallied her spirits.
Putting everything else aside, she was genuinely willing to serve the country.
Qu Zhian walked with Wu Yanqing toward the Imperial Study, speaking in low tones about flood relief.
Heavy rains had caused flooding in the south. Riverbanks had burst, leaving countless refugees homeless. Ordinarily, this would just mean opening the granaries for disaster relief — but the area was also overrun with bandits, and the local officials had been derelict in their duties. The people’s suffering had gone unreported until the situation became too serious to hide. Wu Yanqing had flown into a rage.
“Zhian, who do you think We should send?”
“I believe Your Majesty already has the right person in mind.”
“Care to guess?”
Qu Zhian pretended to think. She’d only recently entered officialdom and understood only a fraction of the tangled relationships at court. But she could see clearly enough which officials were the Emperor’s men and which had their own agendas.
“If this humble subject guesses wrong, I beg Your Majesty not to mock me. I suspect His Excellency Qiu.”
“Well guessed, Zhian. You and I think alike.”
Qu Zhian forced a smile.
Qiu Peizhen had sat the palace examination alongside her. He wasn’t among the top three, but his performance was still outstanding — an upright man. When they were at the academy, Qu Zhian had gotten along with him very well. He was a good friend.
Qiu Peizhen was a stickler for rules. If sent to manage disaster relief, he’d get things done properly. He was too principled to cut corners like those old foxes. More importantly, Qiu Peizhen was the Emperor’s man.
The newly appointed officials, with few exceptions, were like herself or Qiu Peizhen — full of zeal to serve the Emperor and the nation.
If she hadn’t experienced what she did that day, she might still believe he was a wise ruler. But he wasn’t.
A figure came running from a distance. The imperial guards immediately tensed, assuming defensive stances.
Wu Yanqing stopped. He recognized the maid — she looked familiar.
“Please, Your Majesty, seek justice for my mistress!”
Without a second word, the maid dropped to her knees and knocked her head twice against the ground.
Her voice was barely audible. Wu Yanqing could only just make her out.
“Come closer. Who is your mistress?”
When the maid raised her head, Wu Yanqing spotted the bruises on her neck — like strangulation marks. He sensed this might not be ordinary business and didn’t make her wait. Instead, he called her forward.
“My mistress is Consort Liu. She was murdered in her palace last night by Consort Man.”
Even Wu Yanqing was taken aback.
“Follow me. Explain clearly.”
Wu Yanqing’s face hardened. He remembered now: when Consort Liu was pregnant, he’d visited often, and he’d always seen this maid around. During the miscarriage, she’d been there too — the one tortured was someone else.
Qu Zhian’s heart jumped when she heard “matters of the imperial harem.” The name Consort Liu brought that cold, radiant face to mind.
Come to think of it, she wondered how things were at the cold palace. Whether the Emperor had made another move against her.
“Then, Your Majesty, this humble subject will take my leave.”
Qu Zhian was curious to hear the whole story, but she knew which things she could listen to and which she couldn’t. Fires in the imperial household were not for outsiders to spectate.
As she expected, the Emperor didn’t keep her. He hurried off to the Imperial Study with the maid.
Qu Zhian turned back, but didn’t leave quickly. She walked slowly, calculating something in her mind.
Imperial Study.
Wu Yanqing dismissed all the attendants, leaving only himself and Ah Rou.
“Tell me everything in detail.”
Ah Rou nodded and began from the beginning, emphasizing Consort Liu’s suffering and the coerced abortion.
“My mistress wanted to end her life, but Consort Man threatened her. She said if my mistress dared to die, she’d whisper in Your Majesty’s ear and have her family punished. So my mistress was too afraid to act. She forced herself to keep going, but she grew more haggard by the day.”
“In the end… she couldn’t bear it anymore. Every time Your Majesty visited her, she’d cry herself to sleep afterward. The torment was unbearable. She planned to abort the child by pretending to fall. But Consort Man wouldn’t allow it. She insisted on framing the Em—the deposed Empress. That maid Ah Lan was in Consort Man’s employ.”
“Last night, my mistress suddenly collapsed from her bed. I think the child was lost. She knew Consort Man’s secret, so Consort Man struck. I tried to run for help, but that traitor Ah Lan grabbed me. See here — these marks are from her strangling me. I fought desperately and barely escaped. Consort Man’s Elder Dong was still chasing me. I saw her face clearly. Eventually I ran into some palace — I don’t know which one — and Elder Dong lost me. I hid in a room all night and came straight to Your Majesty as soon as I woke.”
“What secret?”
Wu Yanqing’s face had already turned livid when Ah Rou explained the origins of Consort Liu’s child.
Magnificent. He was the Emperor, and someone still dared to cuckold him.
“My mistress overheard Consort Man speaking with a man — a court official, she thought. They were talking about military tallies, the southwest, Ziyi — I can’t remember exactly. My mistress also said Consort Man told him that Your Majesty’s first imperial son should come from her womb — a child of Great Daqing. That way, she could easily…”
Ah Rou’s voice trembled as she spoke. She barely dared to look up at the Emperor’s expression.
She kept Xin Lan’s instructions in mind: don’t lay it all out too neatly. Better to stammer, to trail off suggestively.
“Easily what?”
Wu Yanqing’s face was a mask of darkness. Anger had given way to cold fury.
Being cuckolded was already an unbearable humiliation.
“Easily seize the State of Wu… make Your Majesty…” She couldn’t go on.
“Is everything you’ve said the truth?”
Wu Yanqing stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the shadow in his eyes almost spilling out.
“Everything I’ve said is the truth. This servant dares not speak a single false word. If I’ve lied, may heaven strike me down. May I fall into the deepest hell and never be reborn.”
Ah Rou bit down and swore a mortal oath.
She had lied. She was shaking with fear. But when she thought of her violated, murdered mistress — dead without even knowing why — her gaze hardened again.
If her mistress could be avenged, what did hell matter?
Xin Lan, receiving the live report, remained perfectly composed. When Zero Nine described how ugly Wu Yanqing’s face had turned, she almost laughed.
Ah Rou wouldn’t be going to hell. Xin Lan wasn’t guessing blindly — she’d connected the threads before and after, pieced together the likely truth. It was probably eighty or ninety percent accurate anyway. Besides, when Consort Man came half a month ago, Zero Nine’s scan showed no pregnancy reaction. In just half a month — who knew what she could conjure up?
Wu Yanqing pressed his throbbing temples and ordered someone to take Ah Rou to a side hall.
Excellent. He’d always known the women in his bed were no simple creatures — each with her own schemes. But he never imagined one had ambitions this grand, setting her sights on his throne.
When he stepped outside, his face was calm again.
He walked toward Yunxi Palace. As he entered, his expression even carried a hint of a smile.
Consort Man was uneasy. When she heard the Emperor was coming, her forced smile was strained. But by the time she turned to face him, her eyes were dewy and soft. She draped herself over him like a water snake, her sweet smile in place.
“What wind blows Your Majesty here so early in the morning, to see your humble consort?”
“We have heard something amusing. Would Our beloved consort like to hear it?”
Wu Yanqing wrapped an arm around the beauty clinging to him. He bent slightly, pressing his cheek against hers, his fingers tracing her pale neck. His voice was light and playful, like a lover’s whisper — but beneath it lay ice that had never thawed.
When Wu Yanqing struck, he struck hard.
Everyone in Consort Man’s palace was dragged out for interrogation. A troop of imperial guards entered Yunxi Palace, searching every corner.
At the same time, a physician was summoned.
Consort Man shrank slightly before the Emperor, her hand pressed to her belly.
She hadn’t expected him to know all her thoughts. But that day, she’d clearly said nothing about imperial heirs — nothing at all!
How did the Emperor know her entire plan?
After four years of painstaking scheming, was it all about to collapse?
“Make sure this one thing is true — that you’re really carrying Our child. If it’s born and it’s not,” Wu Yanqing laughed coldly, “you’ll not only endure more interrogation — you’ll suffer every punishment reserved for unfaithful women.”
Consort Man’s face went white. She watched the Emperor sweep away, his sleeves billowing, and collapsed to the floor.
How had this happened? How?
Just yesterday, everything was going perfectly. And now, because one maid had slipped through her fingers, she was being treated like this?
Consort Man clenched her fists. Then, as if struck by sudden understanding, she let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh.
The Emperor had never trusted her, had he? That was why he’d believed her guilty without even investigating.
Whether she’d actually done it or not probably didn’t matter to him.
Just like when she’d moved against Xin Lan — the Emperor had treated her the exact same way.
Guilty or innocent, it didn’t matter. He only cared about the result he wanted to see.
And she’d thought she’d seduced this man, made him drown in her feminine charms.
How ridiculous.
Those in power, she realized, were all cold-hearted.
Her husband. And her father, far away in Daqing.
Consort Man was clever. She could already see her ending.
If her father received news of her current situation, he’d discard her like a useless chess piece.
What point was there in rescuing a married-off princess?
Both of them abandoned pieces. But Xin Lan had only been sent to the cold palace. Her own fate would be far worse.
Consort Man touched her belly, a harsh glint in her eyes.
“What a show.”
Xin Lan finished listening to the broadcast and gave her verdict.
Seems like Wu Yanqing wasn’t just cruel to the original Empress — he was like this with everyone.
Some people deserved it. Others were innocent.
Consort Man was clever and ruthless, her methods beneath contempt. But her temperament was decent enough — she’d calmed down quickly.
A clever woman. Wrong side.
Standing in her current identity’s position, Xin Lan had to see Consort Man as a traitor who deserved death. She was originally from Daqing, yes, but she’d married into Wu — that made her a subject of Wu. Plotting this nonsense wasn’t acceptable even then.
Xin Lan hated traitors. Despised them.
As a soldier, she loathed those who betrayed their country. She’d been forced to take extreme measures precisely because of a traitor in her own empire.
Xin Lan suddenly remembered something and told Zero Nine to keep a close watch on Ah Rou.
Someone who knew secrets this big — the Emperor’s nature wouldn’t let her live.
If she could be saved, Xin Lan would try.
The harem changed overnight.
Consort Liu, who’d miscarried just days ago, was found dead in her bed. Whispers spread through the palace.
And Consort Man, once so favored, had done something to offend His Majesty. She was placed under house arrest in Yunxi Palace, all her attendants taken away, the Imperial Guard standing watch at the gates.
Noble Consort stayed out of it, wisely shutting herself in her own palace. Xin Long received Xin Lan’s instructions to remain in her chambers and not ask the Emperor what had happened. Though she was Empress, she clearly didn’t have the ability to manage the harem. The Phoenix Seal was in her hands, but Noble Consort was still whispering orders in her ear.
Consort Xi, who rarely involved herself in anything, said nothing.
For the first time, an air of fear settled over the inner palace. Everyone behaved meek as quails.
Wu Yanqing stared at the items unearthed in the search and hurled them to the floor in fury.
The physician kneeling below kept his head pressed to the ground, wishing he could vanish.
“Excellent, Consort Man. Excellent, Great Daqing. Ambitions of a wolf cub.”
Wu Yanqing laughed in bitter fury, staring at the broken salve jar.
A substance that damaged a man’s virility. And every time he visited Consort Man’s palace, her path to that honeyed place was coated in this sweet-scented cream. He’d thought it was a bedroom game. Now he saw it for what it was: poison.
Thank the heavens Consort Liu’s maid had told him the truth. Who knew how long he’d have remained in the dark?
But some things — some people who knew too much — were better dealt with.
“Mei An. Where is Consort Liu’s maid?”
“Your Majesty, she’s in the side hall. Shall I summon her?”
“No. Send someone to handle it.”
“Understood.”
Back in Biyue Palace, Chun Yue handed a slip of paper to Xin Lan.
“Master, someone sent this for you.”
Xin Lan unfolded it. Eight characters:
“The harem is in turmoil. How are you faring these days?”
No signature. But Xin Lan had a good guess who it was.
“Qu Zhian,” she murmured to herself.
The author has something to say:
Third update~ Achieved the 30,000-character daily update! (Praise me! Praise me! Praise me!)
Explosive update complete. Returning to 10,000 characters per day tomorrow! Bonus updates will be announced in the author’s notes!
The Commander in the main story is her outer shell. The mini-plays are the inner thoughts she never reveals hahahaha
Commander: Shut up, demon :)
Author: Nah nah nah nah
Welp this arc really is a lot more drama and less system interactions then the last part and the Female lead is nowhere in sight this time around lol, she’s had 1 appearance and it was so brief.
Thank you for picking this up!
Thank you for picking this up!
Thanks panda for picking this up🤩
Chapter 31.2 is missing, can you please replace it? It is difficult to underdtand what is going on without it. Thank you!
oh shoot! I may have deleted it? I’ll post it later. Thank you for pointing that out!
I’m sorry! It seems that I really deleted it! It should be up now!
Thanks panda for picking this up🤩
Chapter 31.2 is missing, can you please replace it? It is difficult to underdtand what is going on without it. Thank you!
oh shoot! I may have deleted it? I’ll post it later. Thank you for pointing that out!
I’m sorry! It seems that I really deleted it! It should be up now!
…I don’t doubt that green means that. But in this context where we’re talking about a wife being pregnant with another man’s child, aren’t they referring to the phrase “wearning a green hat” – eg, you’re wearing a green hat when your spouse cheats on you?
Oh! I didn’t know that, thanks!
…I don’t doubt that green means that. But in this context where we’re talking about a wife being pregnant with another man’s child, aren’t they referring to the phrase “wearning a green hat” – eg, you’re wearing a green hat when your spouse cheats on you?
Oh! I didn’t know that, thanks!