Consort Duan was a general's daughter. Her marriage to the Emperor had been built on politics from the start; his feelings for her amounted to courtesy, little more.
And what about me? What was I to him?
The question circled my mind for days, landing nowhere.
Those in the thick of it are blind; only the bystander sees clearly. The old proverb wasn't wrong. I could see through his feelings for the other two women well enough. His feelings for me remained an illegible knot.
Zhen Huan was pregnant again—but the child did not survive. She pinned the death on the Empress.
Even I could tell it was a frame-up. Yet the Emperor placed the Empress under house arrest all the same.
I understood him less and less.
After that, Jianqiu—the Empress's head maid—slipped poison meant for Imperial Noble Consort Xi, and it killed Prince Guo's secondary consort instead. The investigation dragged the Empress's inner circle into the Bureau of Punishments, where they spilled a great deal.
The Emperor raged in the Hall of Mental Cultivation. I couldn't see what the fuss was about.
The Emperor had schemed against the women of the harem. The women of the harem had schemed right back. Years ago, he had the Bureau extract every hidden sin from Zhou Ninghai's mouth and used it to condemn me.
Dig into anyone and you'll find dirt.
Did anyone believe the beloved Imperial Noble Consort Xi had clean hands? The Emperor simply chose not to look.
And the supposedly detached Consort Jing—had she never once acted against her own conscience? I didn't buy it for a second.
* * *
In the end, the Emperor declared he would never see the Empress again for the rest of their lives. I thought the sentence too light; this woman had killed the love of his life.
He went straight from Jingren Palace to Yikun Palace. He threw his arms around me and whispered my name—over and over, like a talisman against the dark.
I patted his back, murmured soothing words.
Then his eyes turned red. "Shilan, have I been wrong?"
"Hmm?" I coaxed him to continue.
"These past few years, I often wonder—if I hadn't become emperor, would my life be better than this?"
Yes. Without question.
But I chose a gentler shape for the truth. "Every person carries their own responsibilities."
"And to carry mine, I have done things… things I had no choice in." A deep sigh. "Forget it."
"Do those unavoidable things include my unborn child—and the Huanyi Incense?"
Ever since learning the truth, I had rehearsed this question countless times. In my imagination it always erupted in one of two ways: a scorched-earth confrontation, or a breakdown of tears. Never had I pictured asking it like this—quietly, almost calmly.
The Emperor did not speak. He had clearly never expected me to know.
* * *
"How did you find out? Did Imperial Noble Consort tell you? Or Imperial Noble Consort Xi? Or one of the physicians?"
I smiled bitterly. Does it really matter who told me? Would your guilt weigh less if I'd gone on pretending I didn't know?
Seeing my silence, his composure cracked. "When did you find out?"
"How long were you going to hide it from me?"
"No—Shilan, listen, I—" Before he could finish, my tears splashed onto the back of his hand. He brushed them away, then fled.
After that, the Emperor did not set foot in Yikun Palace for a very long time. He barely entered the inner palace at all.
Su Peisheng came several times—quietly asking the servants about my condition, arranging for the palace's finest physician to take my pulse. The Emperor stopped sending gifts. He knew by now that no gift could repay what he owed.
But that was never what I wanted. Once, I had longed for his undivided heart. Now, all I asked was that somewhere inside his guilt, there was a sliver of real feeling.
He didn't understand. He would never understand.
Seasons slipped past. Summer arrived. The Emperor took the consorts and princes to Yuanming Yuan to escape the heat. I was among them.
Once, this honor had meant the world to me—only the favored were invited to the summer palace. Now it was simply sleeping under a different roof.
* * *
On the seventh day of the seventh month, the Emperor hosted the Dzungar Khan Moge at Yuanming Yuan. Su Peisheng came to invite me to the banquet. I accepted—because this khan hailed from the northwest, and so did my brother.
I had the maids dress me properly and pinned every jeweled ornament I owned into my hair—just as I had on the day I first entered the princely manor.
The Emperor seemed dazzled. His gaze kept finding its way back to me. I could feel it each time, but the moment I looked up, he would turn away.
Years of anxiety had worn me thin. Before long, exhaustion crept in.
Khan Moge raised his cup and glanced in my direction. "My army and the Qing forces have sparred a few times along the northwestern frontier. I've had the honor of crossing paths with Her Ladyship's brother, General Nian. Since this visit has brought me to the capital, I ought to toast Consort Hua."
I rose, returned the courtesy, and drained the cup.
"I hear the General has been unwell of late. While attending to His Majesty, might Her Ladyship also send word home now and then?"
My head snapped toward the Emperor. He raised a palm in a calming gesture. I lowered myself back into my seat, but every delicacy before me turned to sawdust on my tongue.
After the banquet, the Emperor and the Khan withdrew to discuss state affairs. I knew the Emperor well enough to know that in his calculus, the empire would always outweigh family. So I waited outside the door, hoping to see him once his business was finished.
I fainted on the steps of the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
When I came to, the Emperor was at my bedside. The raw desperation on his face—it made me smile.
* * *
"You're awake?" He propped me up. I was drained beyond measure, barely able to stay upright even leaning against the headrest.
"The physician says it's a sickness of the heart. I know what you're worried about." He gripped my hand; his fingertips trembled. "I've already issued the order—Nian Gengyao is to return to the capital at once."
I nodded. "Would Your Majesty hold me?"
He pulled me into his arms in an instant. Through the layers of silk, his heartbeat hammered against my back—strong, rapid. The rhythm told me he was nowhere near as composed as he appeared.
I guessed: the physicians had told him the truth about my condition.
Death was spoken of only in whispers inside palace walls. The physicians never dared tell me outright. But it was my body. They didn't have to.
In truth, I had always been at peace with dying. If I hadn't accepted that my life was never truly my own, I would have ended it the moment I learned that years of devotion had been nothing more than a calculated act.
"I thought of a name for our child. An. Peace." My chin rested on his shoulder. I tilted my head and spoke softly against his ear. "I know the secret of the Huanyi Incense. I know I was favored only because I happen to share a thread of Empress Chunyuan's fire. That's all it ever was, wasn't it?"
"Shilan…" His voice broke.
"Shh. Let me finish." I pressed my lips to his earlobe. "But Your Majesty… no two people in this world are the same. I am not her. Neither is Imperial Noble Consort Xi."
* * *
"I know." A tremor ran through his words. "That's why I gave you the other golden hairpin. That's why I blended the new incense for you, took you kite-flying… none of it was because your brother had taken up arms again."
The corner of my mouth twitched. Too late. Everything, too late.
"Will Your Majesty grant this concubine one last wish?"
His arms tightened around me. "I already know. Once Nian Gengyao returns, I will protect his wealth and his honor. You have my word."
I murmured a soft acknowledgment and fell asleep in his arms. I had believed I would die right there—but the physicians, all of them together, dragged me back from the edge.
I knew, of course. Sooner or later, that day would come.
From then on, the Emperor moved into Yikun Palace and did not leave. He stepped out only for morning court. Every other hour, he was there when I opened my eyes.
I told him the servants were enough. He said he owed me a debt, and he intended to repay it with interest. I smiled and watched him review memorials in silence. The focused crease between his brows, the steady hand on the brush—exactly as I remembered.
* * *
One day—dream or waking, I couldn't tell—I seemed to see Su Peisheng hurry in with an armful of documents, speaking to the Emperor in a voice too low to catch.
"Just say it plainly. What's all the stammering about?"
Su Peisheng glanced at me. "Your Majesty, the Grand General… his old wounds reopened on the road back. He has passed."
My eyes flew open. The Emperor stood at my side.
"You're awake? Hungry? Would you like something to eat?"
I shook my head. My gaze drifted, unfocused. My mind had already begun to cloud.
"My lord… hold me."
The Emperor gathered me against him.
I smiled faintly. "Brother… I want to marry the Prince of Yong. Will you arrange the match for me?"