And so the days passed, one bleeding into the next. I did not seek children, and I did not scheme against anyone. Small incidents surfaced now and then, but nothing of consequence.
As the year drew to a close, the Empress petitioned the Emperor: since my brother had re-enlisted and was once again serving the throne, shouldn't my rank be restored accordingly?
The Emperor declined. He said my past misconduct made a high rank inappropriate.
By the next morning, the entire palace was laughing at me.
I shrugged it off. The Empress had never meant to help me. She was reminding the Emperor that my brother was back in the army—and that if given the chance, the Nians could once again amass enough military glory to overshadow the throne.
Then, a few days later, the Emperor surprised everyone by proposing that I co-manage the six palaces. Before I could even puzzle out why, word arrived that Prince Guo had left the capital. If the Emperor had sent his own brother to the frontier, the situation there must be dire. And if war came, my brother's skill and reputation among the troops outstripped that of a dozen generals who had never heard an arrow sing past their ears.
* * *
On nights the Emperor stayed in Yikun Palace, I woke again and again at the smallest sound. Each time, I swallowed the question I really wanted to ask: What am I to you?
But the faint trace of Huanyi Incense drifting through the bedchamber answered for him.
Barely a month later, Su Peisheng arrived during lunch to report that Prince Guo's ship had sunk. He was likely dead—his body cast into the Yellow River.
The Emperor erupted. He demanded an immediate search. "I will have him found—alive or dead!"
I had rarely seen him this furious. Only twice before: once when I lost my child, and once when Zhen Huan lost hers.
He seized my hand and held it so tightly the bones ached—just as he had done on the morning I woke after the miscarriage. He sat in silence for a long time before his voice finally broke through. "I failed him. I should never have sent him."
The Emperor shut himself inside Yikun Palace for a full day and night. I sat with him in silence the entire time, not speaking unless he spoke first. Only when the Empress Dowager sent someone to fetch him did he finally step outside.
The late Emperor had fathered many sons, but few had been close to the current ruler—as anyone who remembered the savagery of the succession struggle could attest. In the manor, the Emperor had been close to only the Thirteenth Prince and the Seventeenth. If the grief was real, it was understandable.
But my mind circled back to the moment he gripped my hand. When my child died, did you grieve like this?
The truth was, on the night the physician told me I was more than a month along, the Emperor had been at my side—but I couldn't sleep. I lay still, eyes shut, secretly turning names over in my mind. I had never been much of a reader; I couldn't come up with anything eloquent. After racking my brain I landed on a single character: An.
An. Peace.
* * *
On the second day of the second month—the Dragon Raises Its Head—Su Peisheng accompanied the Emperor to Ganlu Temple. Apparently, Concubine Hui had arranged the whole thing.
All these years, Concubine Hui had never vied for the Emperor's attention. If she was willing to go to this kind of trouble, it could only be for Zhen Huan. But Zhen Huan was a deposed consort. No precedent existed for a deposed consort to return. Even with all of Concubine Hui's goodwill, it seemed hopeless.
After a single visit, the Emperor began traveling to Ganlu Temple every month—officially to pray for the Empress Dowager's health. In reality, every woman in the palace knew exactly who resided at that temple.
Before long, Songzhi spotted Su Peisheng at the Imperial Medical Bureau, personally fetching Wen Shichu. He was asked to attend to a certain personage at Lingyun Peak—and to look after her pregnancy.
"My lady, we need to do something. If Concubine Wan returns—" Songzhi trailed off.
I sank into the chair. "She—she's pregnant again?"
"Yes. This servant heard every word," Songzhi confirmed.
"What can I possibly do?" My composure cracked. I knew that with Zhen Huan's intelligence, the moment she agreed to bow to the Emperor, her return was only a matter of time.
And indeed, a few days later the Emperor brought it up over dinner in Yikun Palace. "Zhen has been practicing piety at Ganlu Temple for some time. I am considering bringing her back."
He spoke slowly, watching my expression as though tracking every twitch.
I had expected this ever since Songzhi told me about Su Peisheng and Wen Shichu. I just hadn't expected it so soon.
"Your Majesty's wish to welcome Sister Zhen back is more than reasonable. Only…" I hesitated, studying his face. "There is no precedent for a deposed consort to be reinstated. It might violate ancestral law."
He fell silent for a moment, then shifted without preamble. "You have served me faithfully these past months. I intend to restore your rank to Imperial Consort."
I stared at him. He patted my shoulder, his voice dropping to something almost gentle. "As for the Zhen woman—she was deposed. We'll simply issue a new appointment."
So that's what this is about.
"This concubine obeys Your Majesty's arrangement," I answered, mechanical. He wasn't restoring my rank out of affection. He was buying my agreement to Zhen Huan's return.
In truth, whether I agreed or not made no difference at all.
He was worried about the wrong person. Rather than persuading me, he ought to have been persuading the Empress Dowager and the Empress. What power or leverage did I have left to fight Zhen Huan?
The Emperor stroked the top of my head. "Sleep. I'm tired."
I murmured my assent, blew out the candle, and lay down beside him.
* * *
The next morning, after court, the Emperor came to Yikun Palace again. To make it up to me, perhaps, he volunteered news of my brother over breakfast.
He told me my brother was serving under General Yue Zhongqi and had clashed with the Dzungars several times—small skirmishes, all won. He even mentioned granting my brother a formal rank once the Dzungar affair was settled.
After everything the Nian clan had suffered—four years of my brother's exile within the ranks—what did a title matter compared to keeping the family safe?
I knelt. "Your Majesty's allowing my brother to serve under General Yue is already more grace than this concubine could ask for. A rank would be beyond what we deserve."
He pulled me to my feet. "Even Yue Zhongqi has submitted a memorial commending your brother. Surely I should reward him in some way."
I knelt a second time. "This concubine has one request."
"Speak." He sipped his congee. He did not lift me up.
"When my brother erred, Your Majesty exiled Nian Fu and Nian Xing. With my brother at the frontier and my sister-in-law alone, this concubine humbly asks that they be allowed to return—so that my brother may have some peace of mind."
The Emperor ate several more spoonfuls in silence. Then, slowly: "Understood. Rise."
I stayed on my knees. He was a suspicious man. My plea had probably confirmed his fear that I was in secret contact with my brother.
Seeing I wouldn't move, his tone softened a fraction. "Get up. I'll draft the edict today. Nian Fu will be assigned to Yue Zhongqi's command alongside your brother. Nian Xing will escort your sister-in-law back to the capital."
I thanked him. Inwardly, my stomach turned. Escort her to the capital. He meant hostage.
After my petition, the Emperor stopped visiting Yikun Palace for a while. Even Songzhi said I shouldn't have spoken up for the family so soon.
As if I didn't know the man was paranoid? But how could I sit by and do nothing for my brother?
* * *
News of Zhen Huan's return had already spread to every corner of the palace. The Emperor appointed her Noble Consort Xi, gave her the Fourth Prince as an adoptive son, and bestowed the Manchu surname Niuhuru.
Naturally, word of my own promotion to Imperial Consort reached the harem just as quickly. The Empress chose the date—one day before Zhen Huan's return. I saw through her instantly: she was telling me that without Zhen Huan's comeback forcing the Emperor to save face, he would never have restored my rank. She wanted me pitted against Zhen Huan.
I had learned that lesson the hard way once; I had no interest in a second round. I wouldn't fight Zhen Huan—not because I'd forgiven her, not because I could humble myself before her, but because I knew my place in the Emperor's heart was beneath hers.
Perhaps the only time a trace of the late Empress Chunyuan fell on me was during the annual riding and hunts—those brief moments when the Emperor's memory of her spirited side overlapped with mine. Pitiful, really. I had never imagined that one day I would swallow all my pride and survive on this thin sliver of someone else's reflection.
Still, even at my most pitiful, I was not as pitiful as Zhen Huan. Forced to bear another family's name—that was an insult to every ancestor in her bloodline.
* * *
Zhen Huan returned. The Emperor led every consort and concubine out to welcome her. Prince Guo served as the investiture envoy. It was an honor without precedent.
What I hadn't expected was that on the very night of her return, Zhen Huan suggested the Emperor come to Yikun Palace to rest. I knew full well—his body was with me, but his heart was at Yongshou Palace. I couldn't bring myself to keep him, but neither could I play the magnanimous wife and wave him off to another woman's bed. All I could do was turn over and press my treacherous tears into the pillow.
Within days of Zhen Huan's return, Concubine Qi was placed under house arrest. Zhen Huan was certainly skilled—but more importantly, she had the Emperor's devotion behind her.
Since losing the Nian family's protection, I had not dared do anything reckless. Without favor, one misstep meant death. I wasn't afraid to die, but I was terrified that my brother might do something irreversible and drag the entire clan down with him.
Beside an emperor, keeping a family's glory alive for the long run was no small feat.
* * *
On a listless spring afternoon, I sat under the veranda with nothing to occupy me. A eunuch announced that Concubine Zhen had come calling.
I let out a cold laugh and waved her in.
"This humble concubine greets Consort Hua." She bowed low.
I smoothed my robes, drew out the silence a beat, then answered in a languid drawl: "Rise."
Not a trace of disrespect on her face—if anything, an extra measure of deference.
"You never come to my door. Out with it—what do you want?" I cut straight to the point.
"Noble Consort Xi has returned. Does Your Ladyship intend to do nothing?" Concubine Zhen said.
I laughed softly. "Do what? Sabotage the child in her belly? Kill her?"
"Your Ladyship should know who brought the Nian family to ruin. If not for Zhen Huan, would the General have ended up like this?" She dropped her voice.
In the old days, that would have made my teeth grind. But these years had opened my eyes: remove Zhen Huan and there'd be another. Remove Zhen Yuandao and a Wang Yuandao or a Wei Yuandao would take his place.
"Let me give you one piece of advice: the woman perched on the Emperor's heart is not to be touched." I stood and walked back inside.
I wasn't defending Zhen Huan. I simply refused to let Concubine Zhen treat me like a fool—a blade she could wield and discard. Over these years I'd seen enough of her to know she was no idle lamp, but she lacked An Lingrong's cunning and Concubine Qi's knack for playing coy. Someone like her, scheming to bring down Zhen Huan? Absurd.
"Why won't you ally with Concubine Zhen?" Songzhi was bewildered.
"How does Concubine Zhen compare to Cao Qinmo?" Without waiting for an answer, I pressed on: "Cao Qinmo couldn't take down Zhen Huan. What makes Concubine Zhen think she can?"
"My lady is wise." Songzhi set a fresh cup of tea before me. "And good news—the General's wife just sent word. Young Master Nian Xing has returned with her to the old General's residence."