Fortunately, my brother did not let my restraint go to waste.
His letter arrived: the Dzungars had chosen a new chieftain, one who was already eyeing our border with undisguised hunger. If the Emperor intended to raise an army, my brother begged me to put in a word on his behalf.
I turned it over in my mind for days and still couldn't decide.
The Zhen family had toppled the Nians. Then the Guaerjia clan toppled the Zhens. If the Nian family ever rose again, wouldn't the same cycle repeat?
"My lady, His Majesty will be at the gate any moment. Please prepare to receive him," Songzhi said.
I told her to put my brother's letter away safely. "And light the Huanyi Incense."
"That incense is three years old. Wouldn't it be better if this servant lit the new blend His Majesty sent?" Songzhi curtsied.
I smiled faintly. "No need. Light the Huanyi Incense."
The incense had barely begun to curl when the Emperor stepped through the door.
I bowed. He raised me with both hands, then took a gold-inlaid box from Su Peisheng and held it out to me.
"Open it and see if it pleases you," he said.
Inside lay a golden hairpin. I recognized it at once—years ago, in the princely manor, I had coveted this very pin. I had even asked the Emperor for it. What I didn't know then was that its matching twin had been given to Empress Chunyuan.
"This concubine is unworthy. I dare not accept." I dropped to my knees.
He lifted me again, then slid the pin into my hair with his own hands. "You once asked me for this. I refused." He paused. "Now… I've thought it through. I had Su Peisheng find it again."
A bitter tightness spread through my chest.
"You're burning… Huanyi Incense?" he asked.
"Yes."
He walked to the burner and stood over it. "Why not use the new blend I gave you?"
"This concubine has used Huanyi Incense for ten years. The scent is familiar." I sniffed quietly and forced the corners of my mouth upward.
The Emperor bowed his head, saying nothing for a long moment. Then: "Very well. If you like it, I'll have the Imperial Household send you a fresh supply every month."
I thanked him and turned slightly aside to wipe my eyes.
For several days running, the Emperor stayed the night at Yikun Palace. The Empress, unable to bear it any longer, went straight to the Empress Dowager to complain.
The Empress Dowager dismissed the matter outright. She told the Empress a principal wife should be magnanimous.
Songzhi said the Empress Dowager was still on my side. I knew better. The Empress Dowager allowed this because the Nian family no longer had teeth—no matter how much the Emperor favored me, I couldn't stir real trouble. And the more the Empress Dowager indulged me, the bigger the target on my back.
* * *
The seasons slipped past like sand through a closing fist, and before I knew it, spring had come again. The Emperor suggested flying kites. I said yes without hesitation.
I loved kites. Before I was married off, my father and brother used to make them for me. My brother's kites were always prettier than my father's. Sometimes he'd paint a great phoenix on the silk.
Every time he did it, Father would scold him. My brother would laugh, utterly unconcerned, and tell me: "No one dares slight a daughter of the Nian family. Even if you marry the future crown prince, you will be the most favored woman in the land. What's wrong with a phoenix?"
Father would warn him to watch his tongue. My brother would promise—and the next time he made me a kite, the phoenix would be right there again, bolder and more beautiful than before.
"I remember—the spring you first entered the manor, your brother sent over a kite with a phoenix on it." The Emperor spoke slowly, as if reaching back through time.
I didn't want to revisit those memories. I offered a faint smile. "Your Majesty still remembers."
He must have sensed my reluctance, because he changed the subject abruptly. "How is Nian Gengyao these days?"
My letters to my brother always traveled an indirect route—first to my sister-in-law in the Jiangzhe region, then forwarded by a trusted messenger. That the Emperor knew I stayed in contact was no surprise. This question was, at its heart, a test.
* * *
"My sister-in-law wrote to say he re-enlisted," I answered calmly. "This concubine worries about him, but my brother never told his wife which regiment he joined. She and I share that concern."
The Emperor patted my hand. "I read Yue Zhongqi's report the other day. Your brother is serving under his command."
"Is he well? Has he been wounded?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My brother had never been one to burden family with bad news. I had long stopped expecting his letters to mention illness or injury.
The Emperor said nothing. His gaze burned into me.
I dropped to my knees. "This concubine spoke out of turn."
He raised me. "Do you think the punishment I dealt Nian Gengyao was too harsh?"
I kept my head low. "This concubine would not dare."
He waited, as if expecting me to say more. I didn't.
What happened to our family—yes, the Nians had erred, but the punishment far outweighed the crime. The Emperor had assigned my brother to guard city gates precisely because he knew my brother's pride would never tolerate it. The posting was a trap, baited and set, waiting for him to stumble in.
"These past six months, you've seemed different. Gentler. Quieter. You no longer flare up at me the way you used to," the Emperor said.
"Before, this concubine did not know better," I replied. I truly had nothing else to offer.
My old boldness had only ever been possible because he let me get away with it, because he made me feel special. Once I understood that his "special" came wrapped in calculation, how could I ever be so reckless again?
He nodded slowly. "Enough. Come, let me fly kites with you."
Neither of us enjoyed those kites. But we both pretended we did.
* * *
After the outing, the Emperor stayed away from Yikun Palace for quite some time. The entire harem whispered that I had offended him. What puzzled everyone was that even as he stopped visiting, gifts poured into Yikun Palace like water.
I couldn't read him either. The Nian family had no power left. The kinder he was, the heavier the knot in my chest grew.
Then the Emperor fell ill—collapsed in Concubine An's quarters at Yanxi Palace.
The Empress Dowager assigned the Empress, Consort Jing, Concubine Hui, and me to take turns watching over him. She also summoned Prince Guo into the palace—ostensibly to attend the Emperor's sickbed, but in truth, to help keep an eye on court affairs.
Consort Jing and Concubine Hui made no effort to hide their displeasure at seeing me there. But since neither of them held the Emperor's favor, they couldn't afford to antagonize me openly. Consort Jing was taciturn, Concubine Hui limited herself to the occasional glare—all harmless enough. I had stopped caring about things that small.
The Emperor's illness was suspicious. The Empress Dowager ordered Su Peisheng to investigate. In the end I caught a fragment: "The seventeenth of the fourth month is Concubine Wan's birthday."
I let out a cold laugh, then tilted my head back and breathed in through my nose until my composure settled.
Once, I had believed the only woman the Emperor truly loved was Empress Chunyuan. Every other favorite in the harem was favored only because she carried a trace of the late Empress—just as Consort Yu had been elevated for a single line of poetry: "If the wind could understand longing, let it be gentle with the blossoms."
And now, I understood him less than ever.
"Lost in thought?" the Emperor asked.
I blinked rapidly, trying to hide the dampness at the corners of my eyes. "Your Majesty, you're awake. Let this concubine bring your medicine."
"Have you been crying?" He sat up and reached over, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I placed the cooled medicine in his hands. "This concubine was worried about Your Majesty."
A faint smile tugged at his lips. He drained the bowl in one swallow. "With care like yours, I wouldn't dare stay unwell."
I offered a small smile. Sweet words—I could listen and let them dissolve. After enough years inside these walls, a single sentence from him no longer had the power to keep me smiling for days.
"Your Majesty, Prince Guo came by earlier. Court business, I suspect. Shall I—"
"No rush." He cut me short. "While I was ill, I dreamed of the old days in the manor. I dreamed of Chunyuan. I dreamed of you." He stared at me as though searching for something. I waited. He seemed to be reaching back into the dream—then shook his head. "Never mind. I can't recall. Send Prince Guo in."
I acknowledged the order, bowed, and withdrew.
The illness was not serious. A few days' rest and he was nearly recovered.
He kept Prince Guo in the palace a while longer—not for chess, not for calligraphy. State affairs, clearly. I didn't pry. I just had the small kitchen prepare a different nourishing congee each day and send it over.
After the Emperor recovered, he rarely visited the inner palace. On the occasions he did, only Jingren Palace and Yikun Palace saw his shadow.