TJAIP Chapter 35

Zhuang Luoyan watched as the Su sisters arrived hand in hand. She didn’t fully understand a woman like Noble Consort Shu, so at this moment, she had no desire to make an enemy of her.

Losing in the business world might cost one money or status, but losing in the imperial harem could mean more than just losing one’s rank—it could mean losing one’s life. She lifted her teacup and took a small sip, masking the emotions that had inadvertently surfaced. The tea was good, but it was a bit too mild.

After Noble Consort Shu and Attendant Su finished greeting the Empress, they sat down properly. The Empress glanced at everyone before speaking: “It rained through most of last night. This morning, Kang’an Palace sent an imperial decree from the Empress Dowager, excusing everyone from paying respects to her today.” She took a sip of tea before continuing, “I was thinking—there are quite a few elderly palace maids in the harem now. You should all check with those around you, especially those over twenty-five. If any of them wish to leave the palace, they can collect their travel expenses from the Treasury and return home.”

Zhuang Luoyan was momentarily stunned. Releasing elderly palace maids meant that new ones would be brought in come spring. If one or two of them caught the Emperor’s eye… She finally understood why the Emperor had so many women. Seeing fresh young girls every year, it was inevitable that his appetite would be stirred.

“The Empress is most benevolent,” Noble Consort Shu stood and curtsied, smiling. “Once I return to my palace, I will be sure to ask around.”

The Empress nodded. When the other consorts followed suit, praising her kindness, she simply smiled and said, “It is not my benevolence—this is merely following ancestral customs.”

Zhuang Luoyan sighed internally. The Empress had to maintain appearances, but it often felt like a thankless task. Watching her go through these formalities was exhausting enough; she could only imagine how tedious it must be to carry them out.

But as the saying goes, “If you are not a fish, how could you know a fish’s joy?” She might think the Empress’s position was arduous, but perhaps the Empress herself found it a privilege. Even if it was tiring, she might still relish it; even if it was complicated, she might still be willing.

“By the way, Consort Zhao,” the Empress suddenly remarked, “I heard that His Majesty has permitted you to have a private kitchen in your palace. Do you have anyone skilled in cooking? If not, you can request capable palace maids from the Treasury.” She looked at Zhuang Luoyan with a gentle expression. “You’ve had a rough time lately. You should take good care of yourself. You seem to have lost some weight.”

“Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty,” Zhuang Luoyan replied with a composed smile, though a flicker of unease flashed in her eyes. “I have capable people in my household, so there’s no need to trouble the Treasury. As for my weight, I haven’t lost any. I just haven’t been sleeping well these past few days, which may be why I look a little tired.”

The Empress nodded, her gaze warm and accommodating. “Sit down, no need for such formalities. Don’t overthink things. The heavens are watching, and if you have a clear conscience, even the gods will protect you.”

Zhuang Luoyan thanked the Empress and sat back down, but inwardly, she sneered. On the surface, the Empress’s words were meant to comfort her and subtly acknowledge the rumors that she was blessed by the heavens. But beneath the surface, it was a warning—a reminder to everyone present not to act against their conscience, and a subtle hint that she had been attracting too much attention lately.

The Empress was truly skilled in maintaining balance. She neither loved nor hated any of the concubines—she only sought to maintain harmony. The matter of the private kitchen, regardless of the reason behind it, had indeed made Zhuang Luoyan stand out. The Empress’s reaction was calm, suggesting that she did not see it as a major issue.

Noble Consort Shu, however, smirked faintly. The so-called “divine favor” protecting Consort Zhao had already spread throughout the harem. It would be strange if the Empress wasn’t at least a little bothered by it. Still, Zhuang Luoyan did seem to have remarkable luck, and it was no surprise if the Empress harbored some resentment.

Whether the Empress’s words had deeper meaning or not, the other concubines all echoed her sentiments, urging Zhuang Luoyan to take care of herself. They dared not offend the Empress, but they also wouldn’t casually provoke someone favored by the Emperor.

Zhuang Luoyan wasn’t the type to engage in verbal sparring. After the Empress spoke, she had no intention of arguing—she merely acted as if she hadn’t caught the hidden meanings in the conversation. She responded politely, then fell into silence, assuming a reserved and unobtrusive demeanor.

Zhuang Jieyu cast a glance at Zhuang Luoyan’s quiet demeanor before turning away with an unreadable expression. Her gaze swept across the room before she lowered her head and idly traced the rim of her now-cold teacup.

Ever since being slapped by Noble Concubine Yan, Jieyu Ma had become much more reserved. That day, even though the Emperor had witnessed the slap, Noble Concubine Yan was never punished. From that moment, Ma understood—she was no longer the favored Jieyu Ma from two years ago.

Even a fool would recognize that beauty fades, and with it, affection wanes. She was neither the first nor the last concubine to experience this. Looking at the women around her, she wondered—how many of them would manage to retain the Emperor’s favor indefinitely?

“You may all take your leave. I am feeling rather tired,” the Empress dismissed them.

Jieyu Ma stood alongside the other concubines as they left Jingyang Palace. Their different ranks determined the order in which their sedan chairs were carried away. She watched as Noble Consort Shu, Consort Ning, and Consort Xian departed with their grand entourages. Then she looked at the remaining lower-ranked concubines, all of whom kept their heads lowered in quiet obedience.

A wry smile played on her lips. Once upon a time, she had dreamed of being among the highest-ranked women in the palace, envied by all. Now, she realized how foolish she had been. If she had not been so arrogant back then, she wouldn’t have ended up like this.

“Be careful, Your Ladyship,” a palace maid softly reminded her.

Jieyu Ma lifted her head and saw Consort Zhao boarding her sedan chair—a woman she had once mocked.

Consort Zhao was dressed in a simple, pale blue gown with a cinched waist. Even her hair was styled modestly, with an understated jade hairpin—not overly extravagant, but certainly not shabby either. She presented an image that was flawless and unassailable.

Some people knew when to restrain themselves, while others indulged for too long and lost all opportunity for redemption. Jieyu Ma calmly watched as Consort Zhao’s sedan chair was carried away. She noticed the envious glances of the other concubines and smirked.

The harem had always had more neglected women than favored ones. And with Zhuang Luoyan’s distinguished background, she was already a cut above those of lowly birth.

She then caught a glimpse of Zhuang Jieyu’s bitter, resentful expression. The sisters couldn’t have been more different—one seethed with jealousy, while the other completely ignored her sibling’s existence, not even bothering with surface-level courtesies. It was almost laughable.

But then, the harem was full of absurdities. The Zhuang sisters were just another footnote in its endless drama.

“Your Ladyship,” a palace maid reminded her gently, “please board the sedan chair.”

Jieyu Ma climbed into the sedan. As it was lifted, she gazed at the concubines still standing in line. Then she turned her eyes skyward, watching the sun climb higher.

Just as the sun rose, it would one day set.

Life in Xihe Palace was peaceful. Occasionally, Noble Consort Shu would send her gifts, and Zhuang Luoyan always accepted them graciously. Perhaps the consort was subtly reinforcing the difference in their status, but Zhuang Luoyan didn’t mind. Free gifts were free gifts, after all.

The day was bright and breezy, with clear skies and gentle sunshine. Zhuang Luoyan, accompanied by a few palace maids and eunuchs, took a stroll nearby. She unintentionally wandered into a bamboo grove and, realizing that this area belonged to Lady Xu, hesitated. Though she enjoyed the cool shade, she decided it was best to leave quietly.

“Lady Zhao?”

Just as Zhuang Luoyan was about to step away, she encountered Lady Xu, who wore a flowing snow-white silk robe with wide sleeves, her hair styled elegantly in a loose chignon. Seeing her, Zhuang Luoyan respectfully bowed in greeting.

“Enough, you may rise,” Lady Xu said with a gentle sigh. “This place has always been quiet, rarely visited by anyone. If fate has brought you here, it must be the work of these green bamboo trees.” A wistful smile touched her lips. “I have nothing grand to offer, but perhaps we could share a cup of tea?”

“If Lady Xu invites me, it would be my honor,” Zhuang Luoyan replied, though she couldn’t shake an inexplicable discomfort creeping over her.

“I do not bloom, so as not to attract bees and butterflies,” Lady Xu murmured as she took a seat, sighing softly. “The women of the harem adore vibrant flowers, but they fail to appreciate the quiet charm of bamboo.”

Zhuang Luoyan forced a dry chuckle. As someone with more worldly tastes, she enjoyed bamboo for its cool shade and flowers for their beauty and fragrance. However, looking at Lady Xu, who seemed to transcend earthly concerns, she suddenly felt that any comment she made would be inappropriate—lest she taint this ethereal woman with mundane chatter. And yet, something about the scene still felt off.

“This is Zhuyeqing tea, nothing rare, but its elegance lies in its simplicity,” Lady Xu remarked, gesturing for a maid to serve Zhuang Luoyan. She glanced up at the dense canopy of bamboo above. “Do you, too, have an appreciation for this grove?”

Zhuang Luoyan certainly couldn’t admit that she had simply wandered in by accident. Instead, she replied, “I found this place refreshingly serene and decided to take a look. I hadn’t intended to disturb Your Ladyship’s peace—it is entirely my fault.”

“If it is admiration for the bamboo, how could it be a disturbance?” Lady Xu smiled dreamily as if utterly absorbed in the tranquility of the grove. “To understand bamboo is to grant it its greatest comfort.”

Lowering her gaze, Zhuang Luoyan took a sip of the tea. It was indeed fragrant, but hardly a top-tier selection. She reminded herself that Lady Xu was renowned for her literary talents and sighed inwardly. Initially, she had thought Lady Xu to be a figure akin to Lin Daiyu from Dream of the Red Chamber, but now she felt she had done Lin Daiyu a disservice with the comparison.

Lin Daiyu, though melancholic, was at least genuine in her words and actions. Lady Xu, despite her otherworldly aura, somehow felt… contrived.

Then again, the imperial harem housed women of all kinds. Having a “literary genius” among them was, at the very least, a novelty. But was this the same persona she maintained before the Emperor?

The thought conjured an image in Zhuang Luoyan’s mind: the Emperor and Lady Xu, exchanging poetry over tea. Her grip on her cup tightened slightly. She had to admit—the Emperor was truly a man of varied tastes.

Speak of the devil. Just as the thought crossed her mind, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“My dear consorts, you seem to be enjoying a fine moment—drinking tea and admiring the bamboo.”

As Zhuang Luoyan rose to her feet, she caught the flicker of concealed joy in Lady Xu’s eyes and suddenly understood. Lady Xu must have known the Emperor would be coming and had purposefully spoken those lofty words to make an impression when he arrived. So much for transcending worldly affairs.

“Your Majesty,” Zhuang Luoyan set down her tea cup and, together with Lady Xu, bowed in greeting. In contrast to Zhuang Luoyan’s formal and proper gesture, Lady Xu’s every movement exuded grace, her flowing white sleeves creating an elegant arc in the air—so dazzling that it momentarily made Zhuang Luoyan’s vision blur.

“There is no need for such formality,” the Emperor said with a smile as he stepped toward them. “Since there is good tea, I shall partake as well.”

“This tea is made from tender bamboo leaves, Your Majesty. Allow me to prepare a cup for you,” Lady Xu replied with a delicate smile, personally brewing the tea. Wisps of steam curled from the surface, making for an exquisite sight.

Zhuang Luoyan silently observed the scene, her cup still in hand. No wonder Lady Xu had earned her reputation as a cultured woman. Whether or not she truly possessed great talent, her refined demeanor alone was enough to set her apart in the harem.

“A lingering fragrance on the lips—excellent tea,” the Emperor praised after taking a sip. Then, turning his gaze to Zhuang Luoyan, who sat quietly with a faint smile, he remarked, “It seems my two dear consorts appreciate these tranquil pleasures far more than I do.”

Zhuang Luoyan placed her cup down and chuckled. “Your Majesty is jesting. No one would argue that Lady Xu has a discerning appreciation for tea. But to say that I do—now that is a great joke. Today, I happened upon Lady Xu and was fortunate enough to receive a cup of tea from her. That alone is a privilege for someone as unrefined as me. If Your Majesty praises me further, I fear I won’t know where to put my face.”

The Emperor chuckled and shifted his gaze back to Lady Xu. “It pleases me to see that you enjoy this bamboo grove. It seems my decision to grant you this residence was not in vain.”

A touch of shyness colored Lady Xu’s face, making her already fair features even more delicate and charming.

Watching the exchange, Zhuang Luoyan set down her teacup, her smile growing somewhat forced. Rising to her feet, she said, “Your Majesty, I just remembered there are matters in the palace that need my attention. I shall take my leave and not disturb you two any longer.”

The Emperor looked up at her, pausing for the briefest moment—though it was unclear whether it was real or imagined. “If you must go, then do be careful. The sun is strong at this hour.”

“Thank you for Your Majesty’s concern,” Zhuang Luoyan replied, deliberately averting her gaze from the two hands nearly touching. Without another word, she quickly made her exit.

Standing to the side, the head eunuch, Gao Dezhong, watched her departing figure. He couldn’t decide whether to pity her or mock her for forgetting her place. In a harem filled with so many women, what made her think she could truly capture the Emperor’s heart?

Lady Xu, however, seemed rather pleased with Zhuang Luoyan’s tact. She sighed, “I had hoped to chat with Lady Zhao for a while longer, but it seems she was too busy.”

“There’s no need for regret,” the Emperor replied, withdrawing his hand before it could fully meet Lady Xu’s. He took another sip of tea. “I had considered moving you to Baojin Palace, but since you are so fond of this bamboo grove, I see no need to make you relocate.”

For a split second, Lady Xu’s smile faltered, but she quickly composed herself. “Your Majesty’s thoughtfulness is my greatest fortune.”

Watching this exchange, Gao Dezhong found his previous sympathy for Zhuang Luoyan shifting toward Lady Xu. Gains and losses—who could truly say which was which?

Before long, news spread through the harem that the Emperor had originally planned to relocate Lady Xu to the luxurious Baojin Palace but had changed his mind because of her supposed love for the bamboo grove.

“Pfft, serves her right,” Consort Rou scoffed. “She just had to put on airs. Now she’s gone and outsmarted herself.”

She playfully stroked the white-furred cat curled in her lap, her smirk deepening.

“Honestly, I knew it—sooner or later, she’d be so pretentious that she’d trip over herself. And look—didn’t I call it?”