Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was during my second month in the palace that I truly began to imitate her.

That day, I went to Cining Palace to pay my respects. On my way back, I passed by Zhaohua Palace, where the late Noble Consort once lived. The palace gates were sealed, but the crabapple trees before the entrance were in full bloom. An elderly cleaning nanny was bent over, clearing away fallen blossoms. When she saw me, she looked up and suddenly burst into tears.

“So alike,” she murmured. “Even the way you stand beneath the trees is the same.”

I said nothing.

Realizing she had overstepped, she hurriedly knelt to beg for forgiveness. I had someone help her up and asked a few casual questions. Only then did I learn her name was Nanny Lu, and she had served Shen Zhaotang in Zhaohua Palace for many years.

After returning, I sent Chunbi to investigate her background.

Chunbi was a maid I had brought from home. She was tight-lipped and meticulous. Three days later, she handed me a slip of paper, confirming that Nanny Lu’s record was indeed clean. After Consort Shen passed away years ago, she had been reassigned to cleaning duties.

I sat for a long time, clutching that piece of paper.

That night, Yan Yuheng arrived late. He sat by the window, watching me embroider a handkerchief. I intentionally pricked my finger with the needle. As a bead of blood surfaced, he immediately frowned, took my fingertip, and pressed it to his lips. The movement was so natural, as if he had done it countless times before.

My heart trembled. I heard him whisper, “You are always so clumsy.”

“Was she like this too?”

The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

His movements stilled. After a moment, he chuckled. “Are you jealous?”

I pulled my hand back and smiled as well. “Your servant would not dare.”

He stared at me for a long while before suddenly rising to leave.

After that night, Yan Yuheng did not come to Kunning Palace for three consecutive days.

On the fourth day, I summoned Nanny Lu to the palace.

She knelt on the floor, her head bowed low. I didn’t beat around the bush and simply asked, “What did Consort Shen like during her lifetime?”

Nanny Lu’s face turned pale.

“Why does Your Highness ask this?”

“This Empress wishes to know.”

She remained silent for a long time before she began to speak, bit by bit.

Shen Zhaotang loved sweets and hated spicy food. She preferred white jade over gold ornaments. She was skilled at the zither but had no love for poetry. When writing in small regular script, she habitually started from the right side of the page, and her annotations were arranged from right to left. She was born with six fingers on her right hand; fearing the gossip of others as a child, she often wore wide sleeves to hide it.

I listened quietly, not missing a single word.

Once Nanny Lu withdrew, I had Chunbi lock the doors. Sitting alone beneath the lamp, I recorded everything she had said.

From the next day onward, I began to learn.

I learned to wear the plain-colored clothes she favored, the way she sat while playing the zither, and the slow, unhurried cadence of her voice.

I even had Chunbi search for old scores so I could practice her favorite piece, “Spring Mountain Moon.”

Chunbi couldn’t understand. She asked me, “Your Highness, you are already the Empress. Why must you wrong yourself like this?”

I looked at the face in the mirror and said softly, “Because what His Majesty wants has never been an Empress.”

He wants a dead woman.

So, I will play the part for him.