Imperial Harem

On the day Pei Rongqi ascended the throne, a number of people were driven out of the palace.

Some were restless young maids; others were aging servants.

I looked at the eunuch and asked a rather presumptuous question.

“Eunuch Chen, must I leave too?”

We had known each other for years, and he looked a little troubled.

“His Majesty said it makes no difference whether the others go, Aunt Feng, but you must leave.”

I nodded in understanding and packed my things.

Looking back at the palace walls through the fine snow, I suddenly remembered Rongqi at nine, clutching my sleeve with all his strength.

“Sister, you must never, ever leave Rongqi.”

I was the daughter of a male courtesan and a prostitute, born of their illicit affair.

For someone of my birth, life was supposed to mean servitude or prostitution.

My parents often urged me, “While you’re still young and beautiful, coax some wealthy, powerful patron into buying your freedom.

You can become his concubine.

That would be better than selling your looks in a brothel.”

But I was young and proud then.

I refused to become a powerful man’s plaything, to spend my whole life at someone else’s mercy.

So before the madam could make me take clients, I escaped from Rouge House.

My very first day in the palace scared the hell out of me.

Did everyone here have a thing for pigs?

The emperor was fat enough to be sent to slaughter, yet these women were desperately in love with him, practically beating each other bloody for a chance to sleep with him.

Afraid he might eat me in the middle of the night, I pleaded illness to avoid his attentions.

That was how I met the other women in the palace who stayed out of the competition.

They didn’t like the emperor.

Their hearts belonged to the Third Prince, whom they praised as a gentleman without equal.

Then I spotted an alien at a palace banquet, and they insisted he was the Third Prince.

The guy’s face was an equilateral triangle.

Certainly no one else like him in the world.

I’d planned to keep my head down in the palace for the rest of my life.

But one day, as I strolled by the lotus pond, the emperor smiled at me with his fat pig face.

“I’m the Third Prince.

May I ask which palace you belong to, my lady?”

Your Majesty, do you take me for an idiot?

At fourteen, naive Ah Yuan enters the imperial palace beside her fearless friend Xiaochun, believing the two of them can survive anything together.

But as Xiaochun rises through the emperor’s favor, the women around them are drawn into a harem where affection is political currency and every child can become a weapon.

Ah Yuan survives by holding fast to kindness, even as loyalty turns into leverage, ambition demands blood, and the people she loves make choices she cannot undo.

Across a lifetime shaped by palace secrets, she bears witness to the cost of clinging to power—and to the quiet courage it takes to walk away.

For four years, Emperor Pei Guannan has refused to fill his harem, and the court blames the man at his side.

Xie Yuanzhen has shared his hardships for fifteen years, asking for neither power nor reward.

But loyalty cannot give the dynasty an heir, and love cannot silence the ministers.

To protect the emperor’s name, Yuanzhen leaves the palace to serve the people.

Across snowbound roads and the endless rain of Nanyue, the words they cannot say become letters—and a promise to live to eighty.

Sent into a prince’s estate at nine as a future concubine, Lu Sui’an is raised instead as a beloved daughter by the kindhearted Shen Ning.

When a rival consort uses Sui’an’s own hands to murder her guardian, innocence gives way to a patient hunger for justice.

Years later, inside the emperor’s harem, Sui’an turns beauty, loyalty, and palace intrigue against the woman who destroyed them both—but revenge cannot restore the life she loved most.

Born into a family of household servants, Zhou Fanxing is chosen as a maid for a noble girl and discovers a gift for mathematics and astronomy that no woman of her station is meant to possess.

While her beautiful younger sister Mingyue climbs into the imperial harem and their mistress struggles with betrayal, Fanxing works in secret, knowing her discoveries can never bear her name.

Released from the palace into an ordinary merchant marriage, she keeps calculating the heavens as illness shortens her life.

At last, beneath a meteor shower she predicted decades in advance, the nameless servant finds the answer she has spent her life pursuing.

Three women—and the husband who loved her quietly—reveal what the stars meant to a genius the world refused to see.

Born in a brothel and raised as its future commodity, Liu Yuan’er watches her mother work herself raw to buy them both a life of freedom.

The day before they can leave, the daughter of Grand Tutor Song has her mother beaten to death—and Yuan’er learns that the powerful man behind the murder is her own father.

With no law willing to touch the Song clan, Yuan’er enters the imperial palace under a borrowed identity.

Every favor, poison, pregnancy, and betrayal becomes a move in her revenge, while Prince Su watches from the shadows and offers the one blade sharp enough to cut down the empire’s most untouchable family.

Yuan’er was named for a kite meant to fly free.

To avenge her mother, she may have to trade that freedom for a cage of gold.

My father was a libertine, with a particular taste for women with slender waists.

To curry favor with him, the officials beneath him scoured the land for willowy courtesans from Yangzhou.

In the end, they presented my mother to him.

Her waist was as slim as a willow, narrow enough to circle with one hand.

My father was infatuated with her.

The very day she entered his estate, he rewarded her with a bowl of medicine meant to make her barren.

On the day my father placed third in the palace examination, my mother was found unconscious in a busy street, her clothes in disarray.

Mindful of the many years she had supported his studies, my father did not fault her for having been violated.

Everyone praised him for his honor.

Even the emperor marveled at his devotion.

Yet, concerned for my father’s reputation, His Majesty decreed that he marry the Marquis of Yongyang’s legitimate daughter and expected my mother to step aside and become a concubine.

Proud and unyielding, my mother hanged herself that very night.