TJAIP Chapter 36

Zhuang Luoyan feared nothing in this lifetime—except for encountering truly noble and artistic young scholars. But that wasn’t the most terrifying thing. The worst was encountering those who merely pretended to be such scholars.

“Master, have you heard the rumors from the palace?”

It was dinnertime. Zhuang Luoyan was slowly sipping her fresh bamboo shoot and fish soup when Yunxi entered with a smile on her face. Wiping the corner of her lips with a handkerchief, Zhuang Luoyan asked, “What rumors?”

“I heard that after you left the bamboo grove today, His Majesty originally intended to relocate Consort Xu to another palace. But since she loves the bamboo grove so much, he allowed her to remain in Changtian Hall,” Yunxi said with a hint of amusement. “I wonder if Consort Xu still likes that bamboo grove now.”

Zhuang Luoyan twitched the corners of her mouth. She strongly suspected that Emperor Chengxuan was merely using these words to provoke Consort Xu because he couldn’t stand her antics. “Who spread this news?”

“The entire harem is talking about it. Who knows how many people are laughing at her,” Yunxi said as she washed her hands and moved forward to serve Zhuang Luoyan some food. “At first, everyone thought Consort Xu was a quiet and unassuming woman, so she wouldn’t attract much resentment. But it turns out that half the harem is waiting for her to make a fool of herself.”

“A truly talented woman provokes jealousy, while a fake one disgusts people. Neither kind has an easy life in the harem,” Zhuang Luoyan said with a faint smile. “Regardless of which category Consort Xu falls into, as long as there’s a joke about her, plenty of people in the harem will be eager to watch.”

“What true talent?” Tingzhu sneered. She had entered the palace early and served other mistresses before, so she had heard plenty of palace gossip. “I heard that Consort Xu’s father is merely a provincial governor. Ever since His Majesty took a liking to her delicate appearance in the rain, she has been putting on a perpetually melancholic expression. If she were any less beautiful than Xi Shi, I’m afraid she would have to pretend to be the sickly version of Xi Shi instead.”

Hearing Tingzhu’s words, Zhuang Luoyan sighed inwardly. Consort Xu certainly had it rough—pretending to be a talented woman required not only a thick skin but also strong mental endurance.

That night, Feng Jin did not summon any concubine. After reviewing memorials, he picked up some books to read.

Gao Dezhong entered with a tray and spoke softly, “Your Majesty, Consort Xu from Changtian Hall has sent a gift.”

“Oh?” Feng Jin flipped a page of his book without looking up. “What is it?”

“A sachet infused with bamboo fragrance,” Gao Dezhong replied in a low voice.

Feng Jin’s hand paused mid-page turn, and he raised his eyes slightly to glance at Gao Dezhong, who immediately stepped forward.

On the tray lay a delicate sachet made of bright yellow fabric, embroidered with lifelike bamboo stalks that seemed almost real.

“A bright yellow fabric with green bamboo embroidery—it doesn’t look very appealing,” Feng Jin remarked before returning his gaze to his book. “Put it away.”

“Yes,” Gao Dezhong responded quietly and stepped out. He glanced at the sachet and knew it would never see the light of day again. Handing it to a eunuch outside, he instructed, “Store this properly. Don’t let it fall on the ground.”

“Yes,” the eunuch replied cautiously before hurrying away.

The palace never lacked gossip, or for unexpected events.

While the other concubines were still amused by Consort Xu’s situation, the Imperial Consort (Xian Fei) had no reason to laugh. The Third Prince, not yet a year old, had fallen gravely ill. His entire body burned with fever, and even his cries were weak, like those of a tiny kitten.

Leaving everything else aside, the child had only been in Xian Fei’s care for a short time, and now he was seriously ill. If something truly happened to him, it would be impossible to explain.

The Imperial Medical Bureau had summoned four physicians, yet none of them could conclude. Xian Fei, frantic with worry, was on the verge of ordering them all beaten.

“Her Majesty, the Empress, has arrived!”

When the Empress entered the inner chamber and saw Xian Fei’s distressed expression, she immediately understood that the Third Prince’s condition was dire. She turned to the bowing physicians and asked, “What is the situation?”

“Your Majesty,” the chief physician hesitated, “if the prince’s fever does not subside, I fear… brain damage.”

The Empress’s expression darkened. In other words, there was no guarantee the prince could be saved, nor any certainty that he wouldn’t suffer long-term effects.

“I do not wish to hear such words,” the Empress stated firmly. “I want the Third Prince to survive. Understood?”

Whether or not the prince would grow up to be intelligent was secondary—what mattered was that he couldn’t die now.

“Your Majesty,” Xian Fei wept, wiping her tears, “I have failed. I did not take good care of him…”

“Children often fall ill; you need not blame yourself,” the Empress comforted her briefly before asking, “Has His Majesty been informed?”

“A messenger was sent just now,” Xian Fei answered, dabbing at her swollen, tear-streaked eyes. “He may not have reached Qianzheng Palace yet. But once His Majesty arrives… how will I explain myself?”

The Empress sighed as she reassured Xian Fei and urged the physicians to do their utmost. Her gaze fell upon the small prince in his crib, and though her face was full of concern, her eyes remained calm and devoid of emotion.

Everyone in the palace knew that the Third Prince was not favored by the Emperor. His mother, of lowly status, had passed away after giving birth to him, leaving behind a child with no real backing. He was nearly a year old now and still hadn’t been given a name—proof that the Emperor had no real expectations for him.

But regardless of His Majesty’s feelings, the child was still one of the three imperial sons. He had been in perfect health before, yet now that he was under Xian Fei’s care, he had fallen seriously ill. Even if the Emperor did not blame her, the harem’s women would not hold their tongues.

The Empress withdrew her gaze and spoke with more authority, “Treat him well. Do whatever it takes. The Third Prince must recover.”

“Your Majesty,” Gao Dezhong whispered, “Xian Fei’s attendants report that the Third Prince is gravely ill. Several physicians have already been summoned, and the Empress has rushed over.”

“What do the physicians say?” Feng Jin set down his book and signaled for his attendants to help him change clothes.

“They say the illness is severe, and if the fever does not break soon, there may be serious consequences,” Gao Dezhong lowered his voice even further. “Xian Fei is in tears.”

“Hmm.” Feng Jin cast him a glance. “Prepare the palanquin for Ruanming Palace.”

The news of the Third Prince’s illness quickly spread throughout the palace, even reaching the Empress Dowager. Though she had little attachment to the child, she still decided to make an appearance at Ruanming Palace.

With the highest-ranking figures of the palace gathering, the other concubines could hardly avoid paying a visit, lest they seem indifferent.

When Zhuang Luoyan heard the news, she wasn’t surprised. She merely sighed at Xian Fei’s misfortune—tasked with an unrewarding duty, now caught in a predicament with no easy way out.

“Master, shall we go as well?” Tingzhu asked in a hushed tone. “I heard that all the high-ranking concubines are heading there.”

Zhuang Luoyan glanced at the dark sky outside, stifled a yawn, and said, “Prepare the palanquin. We’ll go to Ruanming Palace.”

Of all the women heading there, how many were genuinely concerned? Most were simply there to witness the spectacle.

Seated in her gently swaying palanquin, Zhuang Luoyan gazed at the palace maid ahead, carrying a lantern to light the way. She sighed, looking up at the full moon. Tonight, of all nights, was a full moon.