chapter 3
The Empress spread the restored *Geese Among Reeds* across the table.
The wild geese moved through the reeds in varied poses, some still and some in motion, each rendered with vivid life.
The more the bastard Emperor looked, the more pleased he became. He picked up a jade seal from the table and prepared to stamp it on the painting.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
Collectors had a peculiar habit when it came to paintings and calligraphy. They liked stamping their seals on a piece to proclaim their ownership. One collector left a mark, and the next applied an even larger one. Some people covered an entire work in seals until it resembled a utility pole plastered with advertisements.
It was vandalism.
The bastard Emperor raised one eyebrow, his hand freezing above the painting.
I breathed out.
He lowered the seal an inch.
I gasped again.
He moved it up and down. Every time it appeared ready to touch the paper, my heart leaped into my throat.
At last, he tossed the seal aside. His eyes remained on the Empress, but he pointed at me. “Empress, is that maid glaring at Us?”
I hurriedly looked away and pretended to study the pebbles in a potted landscape.
The Empress covered a soft laugh. “Ah Fu merely treasures *Geese Among Reeds*.
“Your Majesty stamped it eight times when you first acquired it,” she added, resting her head on his shoulder. “Ah Fu spent months restoring it.
“If Your Majesty adds another seal every time you admire the painting, I fear there will soon be no geese left to see.”
I agreed wholeheartedly and nodded like a chicken pecking grain.
The bastard Emperor laughed in exasperation. He came over and poked my forehead. “A mere palace maid dares look down on Our seals?
“Tell Us, then. Why don’t you want Us to stamp *Geese Among Reeds*?”
I tucked in my chin and leaned back, narrowly avoiding a finger in the eye. After racking my brain, I finally squeezed out, “Wild geese are symbols of fidelity…”
“Insolence!” His eyes widened. “Are you accusing Us of being unfaithful?”
The Empress burst out laughing. “Your Majesty is the sovereign of all beneath heaven. Whatever Your Majesty chooses to do, naturally no one would dare criticize it.”
She hugged his arm and gave it a gentle shake, shedding her usual stately dignity for the rare sweetness of a young girl.
The Emperor stared at her for a moment before drawing her into his arms.
Lizhi immediately took the hint and quietly pulled me out with her.
We stood guard outside the door. Lizhi liked telling old stories whenever she had a free moment.
When Noble Consort Yan came up, indignation colored her face. “Her Majesty and the Noble Consort were once close friends.
“Who could have imagined that she would take advantage of His Majesty while he was drunk?
“Because of that, His Majesty had no choice but to take her into the Eastern Palace first.”
Back then, the late Emperor had bestowed Yan Rong upon Crown Prince Qin Zhi as a secondary consort. She soon became pregnant.
Before the child was born, however, an edict arrived naming Shen Chenxiang—the Shen clan’s eldest legitimate daughter—as Crown Princess.
One month after the Crown Prince’s wedding, Yan Rong suffered an accidental miscarriage.
Later, Qin Zhi ascended the throne, and the Empress gave birth to his eldest son. Tragically, the boy fell into the water at three years old. The chill damaged his health, and he died less than six months later.
Children in the harem seemed fated for hardship.
“Her Majesty became gravely ill after that,” Lizhi said. “She only recently began managing the Six Palaces again.
“His Majesty gave her *Geese Among Reeds* at their wedding in the Eastern Palace. That is why she treasures it so dearly.”
I nodded in understanding.
After the Emperor left, Lizhi brought a bowl of medicine from the dispensary.
The Empress accepted it with a faint crease between her brows. “How much longer must I drink this bitter medicine?”
“Your Majesty, it is meant to prepare your body for conception,” Lizhi urged earnestly.
The Empress waved a hand and lowered her lashes, swallowing the medicine one mouthful at a time.
After some thought, I took out a packet of candied plum and ginger.
Before transmigrating, I had loved sweet-and-sour snacks. I still carried a packet everywhere and ate a piece whenever I felt peckish.
The Empress looked at the sweet in my palm with a helpless smile. “I am not a child.”
Embarrassed by her refusal, I began to draw my hand back.
In truth, she was only twenty-seven or twenty-eight. In modern times, a woman her age might have graduated only a few years ago and still been her parents’ cherished daughter.
Here, she had already married, borne a child, and become the dignified mistress of the imperial harem.
Seeing my disappointment, the Empress blinked. Then she reached out and plucked a candied plum from my palm.
“But there is no harm in having one now and then,” she said with a gentle smile.