chapter 2
What Consort Yi treasured and relied upon above all else was Emperor Jing Ye’s love.
That made matters much simpler.
The day after I became a palace lady, Jing Ye came to my quarters.
I was making rouge with my maids. Bright petals lay heaped all over the courtyard, filling the residence with fragrance until it resembled a forest in riotous bloom.
I was a marten and had little sense of hierarchy, so I had always indulged my maids.
I had painted Xiaocui’s face into a great flower with petal juice, and now she chased me through the courtyard.
Laughing, I lifted my skirts and darted out of a mound of blossoms—straight into Jing Ye’s arms.
His features were sharp and his eyes cold as stars. He looked every inch the young emperor who had climbed over his brothers’ corpses to reach the throne.
Xiaocui instantly stopped laughing and dropped into a proper bow.
Yet I never heard Jing Ye tell her to rise.
When I looked up, I found him staring blankly at me.
My hair was arranged in twin winged buns, and vivid rouge stained my brows and cheeks, making me appear all the more innocent and playful.
Embarrassed, I wiped at the flower juice and tipped my face up to smile at him.
One of the guards behind Jing Ye nearly lost his footing.
Sunshine filled the hall. Jade tiles gleamed beneath golden beams and flower petals covered the courtyard, but all that brilliance seemed dim beside a single smile.
Coming back to himself, Jing Ye plucked a petal from my hair.
Holding it between his long, elegant fingers, he shook his head and laughed. “I never knew Ah Xue was such a mischievous child.”
Beneath such breathtaking beauty lived a guileless, childish heart.
No man could resist the contrast.
That night, Jing Ye—who had previously summoned only Consort Yi to his bed—stayed in my palace.
Thus began three uninterrupted months of favor.
The name Di Aoxue once again swept through the entire harem.
For a time, many consorts tried to imitate me by scampering through the flower beds of the imperial garden. Jing Ye ordered every one of them taken away for an exorcism.
Others attempted to dance upon lotus leaves.
Every last one fell in and came up with a mouthful of mud. The imperial physicians could barely keep pace.
The emperor sent me countless jewels and curios.
He ordered a lake dug in my courtyard and filled with lotus blossoms. Beneath it, braziers burned day and night behind watertight walls to keep the water warm, all because I was playful and he feared I might someday fall in and catch cold.
He named it Single-Heart Lake.
His favor appeared limitless.
But I knew better.
However single-hearted the lake’s name, Jing Ye’s heart did not belong to me alone.
Jing Ye was the late emperor’s sixth son.
While his father lived, all five of his elder brothers fought to become crown prince. Jing Ye alone devoted himself to mountains and wilderness, dreaming only of an idle life.
He might have remained a carefree prince forever.
Then he fell in love with Feng Baoyi, the woman now called Consort Yi.
The Feng clan had supplied generations of chief ministers. As its legitimate daughter, Feng Baoyi could marry only the crown prince.
For her sake, Jing Ye abandoned the wilderness he loved and entered the struggle for succession.
He meant to become crown prince so he could marry her openly.
Three years of plotting left rivers of blood in their wake.
At last, Jing Ye became crown prince.
His first act was not to move into the Eastern Palace, but to bring Feng Baoyi into his household.
Throughout history, princes had fought for the throne and the realm.
He alone had fought for the woman in his heart.
The story spread among the people. Countless printed romances were sold, and their love became legend.
Thus Emperor Jing Ye might be dazzled by a peerless face or captivated by novelty, but he would never stop loving Feng Baoyi.
He showered me with favor, but never exclusively.
He always considered Consort Yi’s feelings. Whenever he spent the night with me, he sent her jewelry afterward to soothe her.
Even before overwhelming beauty, he kept a measure of clarity for her sake.
Fortunately, I had plenty of methods left.
One day, Jing Ye watched me dance among the flowers. My skirts flew, stirring a carpet of fallen red petals, while he played a jade flute to accompany me.
His brows were keen. A silver dragon lay embroidered upon his black robes, which snapped in the wind.
Then an urgent announcement shattered the music.
“Your Majesty, Consort Yi has refused food and water for three days! No one can persuade her. Please go see her!”
Guilt immediately clouded Jing Ye’s face.
He left in frantic haste without once looking back at me.
By the next day, the entire palace had heard that beauty had bewitched the emperor into neglecting Consort Yi, who had pined for him day and night without eating or drinking.
They said that when he arrived, Consort Yi was plucking a zither and singing “Phoenix Hairpin.”
When Jing Ye was still the Sixth Prince, he had once begged in vain to see her, and she had played that melody for him from beyond her courtyard wall.
The memories overwhelmed him. Hearing it, the emperor wept and freed himself from beauty’s spell.
Xiaocui was furious.
“Your Highness, Consort Yi obviously spread that story herself! What does she mean, ‘bewitched by beauty’? She makes you sound like some ruinous seductress!”
Xiaodai was equally indignant. “After three days without food or water, how could she possibly have the strength to play and sing? What a shameless lie!”
I was not angry. I lay along a tree branch and softly recited the song Consort Yi had sung.
“Our vows still stand, yet no letter can reach you. No. No. No…”
The melody was beautiful.
Pity the words carried no blessing.