TJAIP Chapter 7

Just a few days after news broke that Ye Shurong was pregnant, another piece of news came from Anqing Palace: Concubine Shu, who had been unwell. The Imperial Physician, after taking her pulse, mentioned that she had caught a chill during the night and needed to rest and avoid the wind.

When the Empress heard this, she graciously excused Concubine Shu from the morning greetings. All the other concubines visited Anqing Palace to offer their well-wishes, but they were stopped by Concubine Shu, who claimed her weakened state made it unfit to receive guests.

Zhuang Luoyan, accompanied by Tingzhu and Yunxi, was also blocked at the gates of Anqing Palace but didn’t find it embarrassing. After all, it was just a formality. Whether or not she saw Concubine Shu didn’t matter; her presence was the real issue.

In the past, palace maids and eunuchs would lower their heads in respect when they saw Zhuang Luoyan. If a concubine of lower rank passed by, they would bow and offer greetings, but no one of higher rank tried to provoke her because of their favored positions.

Zhuang Luoyan had never closely examined the Imperial Garden, but today, as she walked through, she found the flowers trimmed wonderfully. She wasn’t a connoisseur, so she didn’t notice any loss of vitality in the flowers. Instead, she saw them blooming exquisitely, each petal intact and without a single wilted, well-kept, and lovely leaf.

Sighing inwardly, Zhuang Luoyan reflected on how an ordinary person like her could survive in the harem. If she were a delicate, ethereal beauty, she feared she might suffer terribly and be caught in a painful struggle within the palace.

Realizing she had let her thoughts wander into the plot of a romance novel, Zhuang Luoyan tried to refocus and, while still holding Yunxi’s hand, didn’t walk far before she saw a striking woman, accompanied by several maids, approaching.

“Greetings, Sister Yan Guifei,” Zhuang Luoyan said as she recognized the famous and recently favored Yan Guifei, curtsying with respect. She carefully examined the woman, who was dressed in a peach-colored embroidered gown and had her hair styled into an intricate cloud-like bun. A butterfly-shaped golden hairpin with jade inlays adorned her right temple. Its delicate wings fluttered slightly as she walked, causing the tassels beneath to tremble, creating an almost magical effect.

“There’s no need for such formality, Sister Zhuang,” Yan Guifei replied, smiling gracefully. She gestured for Zhuang Luoyan to rise. As she did, the butterfly hairpin fluttered once more, almost as if it were about to take flight.

“Your hairpin is so beautiful, Sister Yan. I can’t take my eyes off it,” Zhuang Luoyan said, her voice full of admiration. The exquisite butterfly hairpin truly was stunning, and even someone used to modern craftsmanship like her couldn’t help but marvel at it. The skill of the ancients was unmatched.

Yan Guifei appreciated Zhuang Luoyan’s praise. She smiled a hint of pride and bashfulness in her expression, “Sister, if you like it, I should give it to you. But this hairpin was a gift from the Emperor, and I dare not part with it.”

“Since the Emperor treasures it, how could I take it from you? Besides, the hairpin suits you perfectly. Giving it to me would be a waste of such a fine item,” Zhuang Luoyan said graciously, her tone filled with envy but not jealousy.

Yan Guifei was pleased with Zhuang Luoyan’s response. She smiled warmly and walked away, leaving Zhuang Luoyan with a smile on her face. Women, it seemed, would always seek to show off their prized possessions, but as long as they were praised, they would be satisfied—a side of vanity that was both endearing and frustrating.

No matter the era, women seemed to be easier to please than men. Many women, in past lives, would only wish for a humble and peaceful home with a stable, responsible husband. Yet, at any age, men seemed to desire far more: power, fame, wealth, and beauty.

In ancient times, women were always constrained by Confucian principles, while modern women, if they were too strong, were considered a third class by men. If they were more passive, men would complain about the pressure on them while criticizing women for only enjoying life without earning a living.

Men often lamented how tired they were, but did not see the women beside them transform from delicate beauties to worn-out figures. A woman might bear a child for a man, and that child would carry the father’s surname. A woman’s respect for her in-laws was seen as natural, but when a man showed kindness to his wife’s parents, he was praised as a good man. A man’s infidelity would be called “heartless,” but if a woman grew close to another man after marriage, she would be labeled as immoral and shameless.

In truth, whether in feudal or modern times, women were treated unfairly. Zhuang Luoyan had never felt wronged in the harem. After all, many women were desperate to win over such powerful men, even if it meant playing dirty. The difference was that the competition was now out in the open rather than hidden behind the scenes.

Women who wanted a better life had to learn to see things. There was no need to let petty things ruin their peace; why destroy a whole life over trivial matters? In the end, who would pity them? They would only be called foolish.

Yunxi and Tingzhu, seeing their mistress in a calm mood but with a distant look in her eyes, knew that she had drifted into another train of thought. They dared not disturb her, but carefully supported her to prevent any missteps.

“Master, look at how beautiful these peonies are,” Yunxi said, unable to resist marveling at a cluster of vivid peonies.

Zhuang Luoyan snapped out of her reverie and, noticing the peonies beside some blooming paeonies, was reminded of a poem from the Tang dynasty: “The peony is peerless in beauty, blooming in the spring and making the city stir.”

“These peonies are also known as ‘Gejin Zi,’” a pleasant voice interjected beside her. The voice was so beautiful that Zhuang Luoyan instantly recognized it. She curtsied again and said, “Greetings, Concubine Rou.”

“No need for such formality,” said Concubine Rou, whose voice was so soft it seemed to melt the air. She glanced at the nearby Gejin Zi peonies. “These aren’t considered prized flowers. If we’re talking about beauty, the Dawei purple is unrivaled, and for purity, the Yeguang Bai is the best. While these Gejin Zi are lovely, they lack both the striking beauty and the clarity of the others. They don’t catch the eye, but I suppose they’ve caught your attention, Sister Zhuang.”

“Perhaps I’m just an ordinary person. I saw these flowers and liked them without knowing they had such a unique beauty,” Zhuang Luoyan responded with a smile. “But beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Concubine Rou smiled, “If it pleases you, then these Gejin Zi should bloom even more beautifully.”

After Concubine Rou left, Zhuang Luoyan chuckled softly. She knew that Concubine Rou wasn’t genuinely discussing flowers but was instead using the Gejin Zi to remind her of her place in the palace. She was making it clear that Zhuang Luoyan’s beauty and charm were not enough to win the Emperor’s favor.

“Master…” Yunxi and Tingzhu, who were not foolish, immediately understood Concubine Rou’s underlying meaning and exchanged worried glances as they looked at their mistress.

“Tell the palace servants to prepare some Gejin Zi for the Peach Jade Pavilion. I quite like these flowers,” Zhuang Luoyan said nonchalantly.

“Yes,” Yunxi and Tingzhu exchanged a knowing glance, pretending not to notice the subtle threat behind Concubine Rou’s words.

Ever since Ye Shurong’s pregnancy was announced, the Emperor had turned his attention to the ranks of Yan Guifei, Concubine Rou, and Concubine Shu. Now that Concubine Shu was ill, everyone expected the Emperor to turn to Concubine Rou or Yan Guifei, but instead, he favored the Peach Jade Pavilion.

The Peach Jade Pavilion had become quite favored, though not to the same extent as Concubine Rou. So, when the Emperor chose to visit, it wasn’t as grand as his previous attention to Yan Guifei.

When Emperor Cheng Xuan arrived at the Peach Jade Pavilion, he noticed a delicate white jade vase holding several Gejin Zi flowers. He casually commented, “My dear, you enjoy peonies so much. I’ll have the palace servants send a pot of the famous Dawei purple tomorrow.”

“Your Majesty, don’t waste such fine flowers,” Zhuang Luoyan replied. “I only had some of these flowers sent over because I liked how they looked. If you send a pot of the famous ones, I’m afraid they’ll wither by the time you see them.”

Emperor Cheng Xuan was momentarily stunned, as he hadn’t expected her to reject such a gift. Most women would have been thrilled and grateful for any royal favor.

“Does my dear not like the famous flowers?” he asked, now genuinely curious.

“Your Majesty, are you teasing me?” Zhuang Luoyan’s gaze shifted slightly, and her expression turned more alluring, making the action seem all the more natural and captivating, much more than if she had been pretending to be shy. “I’m just an ordinary woman. Why would I destroy something so beautiful?”

“You are quite sincere,” Emperor Cheng Xuan said with a smile. He stole a quick kiss from her lips. “But to me, you’re even more beautiful than these peonies. Why not let me enjoy you more?”

Never trust the Emperor’s words. If you do, you’ve already lost.

He might have called her more delicate than a flower, but his actions seemed to suggest otherwise as if he hadn’t eaten for months.

When it came to power struggles, particularly when one side was more vicious than a hungry wolf, it was hard to believe anything he said.

The next morning, when Zhuang Luoyan awoke, Emperor Cheng Xuan was already dressed in his imperial robes and stretching his arms, while the palace maids knelt on the ground arranging his robes. When he saw she was awake, he smiled warmly, “You sleep soundly, my dear.”

“That’s not entirely my fault,” Zhuang Luoyan teased, a hint of reproach in her tone, which caused a smile to tug at the corners of Emperor Cheng Xuan’s lips.

Zhuang Luoyan glanced at his smile and lazily shifted under the covers. This was men for you: when a woman spoke kindly, they didn’t care to listen. They only wanted to hear complaints.

What else could be said about that?