The Weiyang Palace was quiet. Only a few palace attendants moved back and forth, whispering among themselves. After the Sixth Prince woke, the imperial physician had come a few times, but once the Sixth Prince’s condition stabilized, the visits grew infrequent.

“The physician has already been spoken to.”

Idle chatter was kept outside the palace walls. Consort Ning sat before her mirror and gave a slight nod at the palace maid’s report, then burned a secret letter that had come from outside the palace until nothing remained.

It was a letter from the Ning family. In the past few days, new developments had stirred at court. Good news had arrived from the border.

“It seems His Majesty has won a great victory,” Consort Ning said.

Within the inner palace, Consort Ning had always maintained the image of a virtuous and unassuming woman who never competed for power. Because of this, several duties for the upcoming Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet had fallen to her, giving her access to the details of the occasion. With the Ning family keeping her informed, she had learned ahead of everyone else that the Emperor would be returning in triumph. For Great Yuan, this was a cause for great celebration. Word had already spread across the realm, and the Emperor intended to mark the occasion with a nationwide celebration. That meant a grand affair.

And grand affairs meant grand arrangements.

The palace maid Bizhu said, “The Sixth Prince has not left his quarters these past few days. The physician says his body has not fully recovered, and it seems the fever may have affected his mind somewhat. The attendants serving him have had quite a bit to say about it.”

Consort Ning’s hand, burned by the medicine a few days ago, still ached. But hearing Bizhu say this, her mood lifted a little. “A damaged mind would be even better. It would save me the trouble of coaxing him. Has he been taking his medicine?”

All these years, the strict eyes of the inner palace had been watching, and on top of that the Ning family had run into trouble some years back. She’d had no choice but to endure and make do. She had never cared for this child, had raised him with the intention of ruining him, and had just barely managed to shape him into someone timid and weak… But when it came down to it, what was a timid disposition compared to a complete wreck? Which was easier to control?

Especially that face. Once he grew into it, it would become a problem… When the time came, there would be no need to keep that face around either.

Bizhu attended to her lady’s grooming with care and reported in detail, “This servant went to the medicine room these past few days. The people there said His Highness has been taking all of his medicine.”

Hearing that Ying Fusheng had been drinking all of it, a look of pleasure crossed Consort Ning’s face.

The current Emperor had a fair number of children, and the inner palace was full of people clawing over each other to rise in his favor.

Consort Ning had spent over a decade cultivating the image of someone who kept to herself and wanted nothing. Ying Fusheng was dull and useless, and showed no signs of ever rising to prominence. Consort Ning, for her part, never competed for anything, and so many of the other consorts had tried to draw her to their side. Thanks to this, she had learned a great deal of information the Ning family had no way of obtaining, and had quietly schemed on behalf of her own biological son.

What did it matter that Empress Xu sat in the highest seat in the inner palace, carrying herself with that air of hers all day long? In the end, her child was still being held in Consort Ning’s palm.

Consort Ning listened as Bizhu reported, and the more she heard the more at ease she felt. “How have things been at the Kunning Palace lately?”

Bizhu answered, “Her Majesty the Empress has been at the temple these past few days offering prayers. The Crown Prince has gone with her.”

The Crown Prince was young, yet his reputation for filial piety had already spread far and wide.

As Bizhu spoke of the Crown Prince’s name beyond the palace walls, Consort Ning felt more and more content. The Crown Prince, as the heir of the Eastern Palace, had the Empress and the Xu family behind him. The Xu family produced scholar-officials of exceptional standing in great numbers, had once assisted the current Emperor in ascending the throne, and the Empress herself was deeply favored and trusted by the Emperor. With such ideal conditions, her son would enjoy the finest of everything without her needing to scheme at all.

“There is also another piece of news. Word is that the Qi family has been stirring. One of General Qi’s trusted men has entered the residence,” Bizhu said quietly.

Consort Ning was mildly startled.

The Qi family had been the Emperor’s right hand through countless campaigns, military officials who had stood at his side since his youth.

The Qi family were pillars of the nation, a line of military men generation after generation, who guarded the vital northern border of Great Yuan and were deeply trusted by the imperial family.

The current Emperor placed great importance on military affairs, and the Qi family were a solitary and loyal force at court, spending years on end guarding the frontier and resolving crises for the Emperor, rarely returning to the capital.

And now even someone from the Qi family was coming back…

“If even the Qi family is returning… then it is the Emperor’s will. With court officials and princes returning to the capital, the opportunity to distinguish oneself must go to my son.” At the time, in order to give birth on the same day as the Empress, that labor-inducing drug had done lasting damage to her constitution. Fortunately, years of good medicine had restored her, and there were no longer any serious concerns. Consort Ning looked at her reflection in the mirror and gave her instructions in a cold voice. “As for that little bastard, have the pharmacy administer something more potent when the time comes.”

Bizhu replied, “This servant understands.”

On the other side of the Weiyang Palace, Consort Ning had given orders that, on account of the heavy cold air and the risk of wind-borne illness, the prince’s quarters were to be kept sealed tight for the next few days. The other princes were well regarded within the palace, but the Sixth Prince had never had dealings with any of them and was not favored by the Emperor or the Empress Dowager. Since falling ill, the other palaces had sent only a few things by way of condolence. Hardly anyone had come in person to visit.

In the days since the Sixth Prince regained consciousness, his behavior had been notedly different from before. The Sixth Prince had always been quiet by nature, his disposition somewhat timid. But since waking after the fall into the water, he had not recognized the attendants who served him most closely, his responses to people and questions had been slow, and where he had once simply said little, he now said nothing at all, as though something had taken hold of him.

The smell of medicine hung thick in the small kitchen. A few palace attendants stood outside, whispering among themselves.

“Is the Sixth Prince really not possessed? When I went to check on him this morning, he was just sitting there without a word. It was quite eerie.”

“Who knows. Burning up like that… Shh, do you want to lose your head? Keep it down!”

“Song’an, why don’t you take the medicine to His Highness?”

Song’an came out in silence carrying the medicine, and caught the contemptuous looks the attendants threw his way. He bent his head and walked past them.

“Always making him do the work.” “He’s willing enough, jumps at any task you give him.” “Stop talking!”

Song’an kept his eyes down. His grip on the tray tightened slightly. Opportunities to attend to His Highness directly were rare. In ordinary times, those same attendants all jostled to get close to His Highness, eager to earn credit and rewards. But now that His Highness was ill, they were afraid of being blamed, and pushed all the work onto him.

The voices faded as Bizhu emerged, and the attendants fell quiet.

Song’an had only taken a few steps before he came across Bizhu. The attendants gossiping was nothing new. When Bizhu-jiejie happened to overhear, she would say a few words to them at most and rarely punished them. Everyone said Consort Ning was kind and never harshly disciplined her servants, that she was a living bodhisattva.

Bizhu glanced at the medicine and said simply, “Take it in.”

Song’an knew Bizhu would say nothing on his behalf, so he said nothing more and carried the medicine inside.

The attendants spoke ill of His Highness, but Song’an did not agree. He was the young eunuch His Highness had rescued in the dead of winter. Without His Highness, he would have lost his life long ago. He would have had no place to stand in this Weiyang Palace.

His Highness was not one for words, but he treated the people of the palace very well.

In the eyes of others, though, all they could see was that His Highness’s rewards were not generous enough. They talked about what the other palaces gave out, and said that what His Highness offered was less than what even the servants in the favored princes’ palaces received.

A bunch of ingrates, Song’an thought bitterly.

Beyond the palace walls, a cold wind had been blowing for days. The chill grew heavier.

The charcoal fire burned bright in the bedchamber, its warmth seeping into the bones.

Song’an carried the medicine in with careful hands and looked toward the small figure already sitting up on the bed.

The Sixth Prince sat with a robe draped over his shoulders, his gaze seeming to drift toward the window. A few palace attendants passed by outside. Song’an tensed at the sight, not knowing how long His Highness had been watching, or whether the gossip outside had reached his ears.

The charcoal fire burned thick inside, yet His Highness had been unusually sensitive to the cold these past few days, and had even had the brazier moved closer.

Song’an said softly, “Your Highness, the wind is strong outside.”

At the sound of his voice, Ying Fusheng turned. Seeing it was Song’an, he spoke in a hoarse voice. “Did you run into her?”

Song’an noticed His Highness’s gaze resting on him. These past few days, His Highness had suddenly given him instructions to avoid the others and remove certain ingredients from the physician’s prescribed formula. He said, “Just as you told me. Bizhu-jiejie asked, and I only said the medicine had been warmed. I also did as you said about the bitter taste and went to the Imperial Medical Office for some licorice root. Bizhu-jiejie didn’t say anything.”

Ying Fusheng looked at him.

Song’an kept his head low. A faint sullenness showed on his face, giving him a somewhat sharp and disagreeable look. He knew his appearance was not the kind people warmed up to, and that it put others off, so he always kept his eyes down and made himself as unnoticeable as possible.

Ying Fusheng could dimly make out in that face the person Song’an would become in later years. Song’an was the only person he had ever been able to trust.

Song’an noticed His Highness’s silence. “Did Your Highness hear them?”

Idle gossip and cutting remarks. Ying Fusheng had heard plenty of it in his time. Some people would make a point of coming to the edge of the cold palace to say things where he could hear, sometimes several rounds of it in a single day, more entertaining than the performers the consorts had specially brought in. Once, he had called those people before him and told them to perform, and they had all cowered and begged forgiveness. He had already been a deposed prince by then, yet those people, mindful of rank and wealth, had not a shred of the boldness they showed when lurking at the walls.

He had found it tiresome after that. It wasn’t loud enough, nor engaging enough.

He asked, “What did they say about you?”

Song’an paused slightly, then said, “Nothing.”

Ying Fusheng saw that Song’an was standing at a distance and beckoned him over.

Song’an moved a little closer and felt the warmth of the brazier, which drove off the chill from outside. He watched the prince carefully, with a persistent feeling that he had been a little different lately. He had been taken in by His Highness on a winter day several years ago. His Highness had been young then, and after saving his life had kept him in the Weiyang Palace. Even Song’an’s name had been given to him by His Highness, who had chosen it with great enthusiasm when he first began his studies.

Ying Fusheng took the medicine bowl from Song’an’s hands. The warmth of it brought a faint feeling back to his frozen fingertips.

Steam rose from the medicine, reflecting his face back at him, and gradually masked the coldness in his eyes.

These past few days he had feigned a fever that would not break. Song’an was quick-witted, and neither Consort Ning nor Bizhu had noticed.

After so many years, Consort Ning’s guard had long since been worn away. Who would be overly wary of a ten-year-old child? But to be safe, Ying Fusheng had still instructed Song’an to prepare the medicine in secret, then mix the dregs in with the original dregs. Fortunately the room smelled so heavily of medicine that the few times Bizhu came in, she never noticed the portion of dregs that had been burned away in the ash of the brazier.

But after ten years of being fed the secret poison, Ying Fusheng’s body had long since been worn down by the mistreatment. This had been nothing more than a fall into the water, yet the fever had sapped his strength for days. Even after the fever broke, his bones still ached faintly, and the slightest exertion of thought brought a splitting headache.

He knew the residual poison in his body had not been cleared, and that simply stopping the medicine would not be enough. Over time, Consort Ning might notice something. Seeking out new medicine on his own would arouse suspicion. Fortunately, his long years of illness in his past life had given him some knowledge of the secret drug, and he could remove certain of the triggering ingredients. But this was not a lasting solution.

For a secret drug to be administered right under the imperial physician’s nose, the physician who regularly visited his quarters was likely not clean either. Exposing any of this would get him nowhere. No one would believe him, and if Consort Ning covered it up by claiming the fever had addled his mind, he would be truly without recourse.

The cold embedded in his bones had not left him. Even two charcoal braziers could not drive the chill from his body. Ying Fusheng finished the bowl of medicine and could not hold back a cough.

Song’an tensed at the sound. “Your Highness?”

“Move the brazier closer.”

Song’an had no choice but to move the brazier in again.

Ying Fusheng held his hands out toward the fire and felt the warmth close before him. He murmured, “A pity it isn’t silver-flake charcoal. Now that would be something.”

Song’an glanced at His Highness. Ever since he woke after the fall, His Highness had been unusually particular about such things. Just two days ago he had woken from sleep and scolded Song’an for not knowing the value of thrift. These past few days he would occasionally say things that were hard to make sense of. His Highness had never cared before about what kind of charcoal was burned.

Ying Fusheng pulled his robe tighter around himself. In the cold palace, there were no such things. Even the charcoal that was allocated had to be fought over. Yet here, now, such things could be had without a second thought. That was why everyone wanted to be the one on top.

Noticing His Highness’s silence, Song’an glanced sideways at the small items that had been sent over. “Bizhu-jiejie said the Lady sent a few things.”

His Highness longed for Consort Ning’s affection, yet in all these days of illness the Lady had only come once and mostly sent things in her stead. And His Highness was the Lady’s only child. Song’an could not understand why the Lady was so indifferent toward His Highness. Worried that His Highness was hurting inside, he said quietly, “Shall this servant set them out for Your Highness?”

Ying Fusheng’s illness had not fully lifted, and showed faint signs of worsening. He had been running a high fever all day. When word reached Consort Ning, she knew the little something Bizhu had added was taking effect, and she had come by a few times in hollow concern. It was plain to see that she had been in good spirits lately, and sometimes she would even send Ying Fusheng a small trinket.

Paper-folded trinkets, set casually at the foot of Ying Fusheng’s bed, a few words of concern woven into her speech. This had been the pattern for years. She always showed just the right amount of care at just the right moment, and it was what had made his foolish past self devoted to her without question.

In the modest bedchamber, the things Consort Ning had sent were all laid out in plain sight, free of dust, and few enough to count on one hand.

His own possessions were sparse. The Four Books and Five Classics were nowhere to be found, replaced by a plethora of unofficial histories and miscellaneous books Consort Ning had casually sent over. His former self had known that Consort Ning liked him unambitious and compliant, and had gone along with everything without question. But in his past life, in the cold palace, a single jade pendant had been enough to sustain him for half a month, and a little silver had not been enough to bribe a eunuch. He and Song’an had nearly not survived their first winter.

“If she sends anything else, tell her I was so pleased to see these that I drank several extra bowls of medicine,” Ying Fusheng said. “Accept whatever she sends, put it in my private treasury, and sell off whatever can be sold. Exchange it for useful things.”

Song’an made a sound of surprise. Hadn’t His Highness always treasured these things the Lady sent?

He quickly replied, “This servant understands.”

“You’re not going to ask why?” Ying Fusheng’s deep, still eyes turned toward him.

Song’an shook his head and only said, “Whatever His Highness tells this servant to do, this servant will do.”

Ying Fusheng looked at him for a long moment. In the past life, when I told you to run, why didn’t you listen?

He put the thought away. Looking down, he noticed his hand was trembling uncontrollably. He tucked it under the bedding and steadied himself.

The hall outside was quiet. His gaze drifted to the door.

Thick snow lay over the palace walls. Only a few scattered attendants moved about outside. It had been unusually quiet these past few days.

Ying Fusheng had spent several days adjusting to finding himself in a child’s body again. He asked, “Has anything been happening in the palace these past few days? There are fewer people.”

He had forgotten too much of his childhood memories. After years of imprisonment, he had lost track of time. By the end, his mind had not been entirely sound, and it had taken him a long time to recognize even the palace attendants, or he had simply wiped certain unimportant people from his memory entirely.

Song’an was taken aback, then explained, “Has Your Highness forgotten? The Empress Dowager’s birthday is nearly here.”

That single sentence cut through the fog in Ying Fusheng’s mind in an instant. He recalled that a few days ago, delirious with fever, Consort Ning had mentioned the Empress Dowager’s birthday in passing while offering him a few words of comfort. The Empress Dowager’s birthday had always been overseen by the Empress. In his past life, Consort Ning had consistently maintained the image of someone above the fray. Her most practiced method was to wear an innocent face and work as the hand behind the curtain, rarely taking direct action herself.

The Empress Dowager’s birthday came every year, but there was one particular birthday that had been of the utmost importance to Consort Ning.

“Is Father about to return in triumph…?” Ying Fusheng asked, hesitantly.

Song’an paused, looking mildly puzzled. “His Majesty is still at the frontlines, but this servant has heard the palace attendants say there seems to be good news from court these past few days.”

So it was this period…

Ying Fusheng’s gaze sharpened. The details of the night he fell into the water were somewhat hazy to him now. He had burned with fever for days and nearly not survived. What memory could he have kept of things that happened while he was ill? Even the events of his youth were not entirely clear to him anymore.

The reason he knew about this particular birthday celebration was that it had been celebrated as a great occasion in later times.

This period coincided with a critical moment when his imperial father had led his armies personally into battle and broken through the border tribes. It happened to fall at the time of the Empress Dowager’s birthday, and the Emperor returned in triumph to the joy of the entire nation, with a general amnesty proclaimed across the realm. The imperial princes and princesses all won the favor of the Emperor and the Empress Dowager at the birthday banquet. Only he, not yet recovered from a serious illness that left lasting damage, became a neglected and dispensable prince.

And most importantly, at this birthday banquet, the entire court, civil and military alike, as well as princes from outlying regions, had all been summoned back to the capital. A general amnesty was proclaimed and the whole nation celebrated. In his past life, it was at this very moment that the Emperor returned in triumph. With the assembled court gathered at the banquet, Consort Ning’s biological son, the false crown prince, had seized all the glory. Not only did his gift earn the Empress Dowager’s delight, but his clever and eloquent responses earned the Emperor’s commendation as well. At only ten years old, his name became known throughout the realm, laying the foundation for the reputation of a wise ruler that later generations would celebrate, drawing the hearts of countless scholars from humble origins toward him.

“So this is when I fell into the water…” Ying Fusheng’s gaze shifted slightly.

The fall was in all likelihood Consort Ning’s deliberate doing.

The life-saving medicine laced with secret poison, the soft imprisonment dressed up as loving care, the deliberate ruination of his potential. If things continued this way, he would only ever be confined within the walls of a single palace hall, treading the same path as before.

Being trapped in the Weiyang Palace was a trap with no way out. Ying Fusheng refused to accept it. To be used, imprisoned for years, to live like a dog, and in the end to watch those who had climbed to power over his corpse hold all the authority in the world. He and Song’an in that tide of events had been nothing more than insects that those in high places could crush with a single word.

Just as now, when even a bowl of medicine for his recovery had to be concealed.

But why should it be this way?

The birthday banquet was his only chance. He not only had to go, he had to find a way to escape Consort Ning’s control.

Over these past few days, he had used what opportunities he had to observe the area outside the hall. The palace appeared to have few people, but in truth attendants still moved back and forth. They were likely the informants Consort Ning had left behind. The moment he stepped outside this palace hall, those attendants would report it to Consort Ning at once.

Attending the birthday banquet was no simple matter. Given the current situation, any rash move on his part and Consort Ning could find any excuse to keep him confined in the Weiyang Palace. So before the banquet arrived, he could not afford to show his hand.

To lull Consort Ning into complacency, his illness could not improve, and he could not leave this place.

He needed outside help. He needed a legitimate reason to attend the banquet… Otherwise, he and Song’an would only end up with the same fate.

Song’an watched his master in silence, a faint worry in his eyes. Ever since His Highness had woken after the fall, it had been like this. He would often stare out toward the hall entrance without a word, as though something had drawn his spirit away.

Ying Fusheng’s eyelids were half-lowered, his fingers moving slowly over the fabric of his robe. After a long moment he came back to himself and asked, “Has Mother been going to the Wangyue Pavilion every day lately?”

Nearly all the palace attendants in the Weiyang Palace were running back and forth outside every day. Consort Ning had been entrusted with overseeing the preparations for the Empress Dowager’s birthday, and from what Ying Fusheng remembered, the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet in his past life had been held at the Wangyue Pavilion.

Song’an had been frequently sent on errands by the other attendants these past few days and naturally knew something of it. He said, “With the banquet approaching, the Lady has been very attentive. These past few days when this servant has gone over, the Wangyue Pavilion looks quite different from usual.”

Ying Fusheng confirmed it. This matched his memory.

In his memory, to avoid arousing the Empress’s suspicion, Consort Ning had rarely taken the initiative to draw close to the Empress in the past, and had built a fine reputation within the palace for it.

A person who never competed for anything would not draw the attention or envy of the other consorts, and many things could be taken in hand with only a little initiative.

When the Crown Prince was young, she could afford to ignore him. But now that the Crown Prince was growing his wings, Consort Ning could no longer hold herself back.

Ying Fusheng turned this over in his mind. The more Consort Ning wanted to keep a low profile and stay in the shadows, the more he needed to give things a push and bring his dear mother out into the open before others. The place he could use for that was the Wangyue Pavilion.

“Song’an, there is something I need you to do.”

Ying Fusheng said suddenly, “In a few days it will be time for the Imperial Pharmacy to make its purchases. Do something for me.”

These past few days Song’an had been making furtive trips to the Imperial Medical Office on his master’s behalf. Fortunately the office saw a great deal of traffic, and no one had taken note of him. He wondered what medicine His Highness wanted to find this time, and then saw His Highness take a few pieces of loose silver and a token from his private stores. Song’an was taken aback, and heard Ying Fusheng say, “No, this time you cannot go to the physicians or their apprentices. Every ten days the Imperial Medical Office receives a procurement from the Imperial Pharmacy. The procurement eunuch inspects and verifies medicinal materials from all over the realm. When that time comes, go to the Imperial Pharmacy and find a eunuch by the name of Fu’an.”

Song’an grew cautious at once. “What does this servant need to do?”

There were far too many people in the imperial palace who could not afford medicine. The Imperial Pharmacy was not a place any eunuch could simply walk into. When medicine merchants delivered their goods to the palace, the crowd and the confusion created opportunities for private dealings on the side. In his past life, Ying Fusheng had been imprisoned in the cold palace and had nearly not survived on more than one occasion. It was thanks to the female official who had treated him that he had learned of this small channel, enough to purchase a few medicinal materials to keep himself alive.

And the eunuch Fu’an was the one who ran that channel. Money could move even ghosts, and especially so within the imperial palace, where people were all the more adept at reading the wind and trimming their sails.

When the female official had told him about it at the time, she had said this Fu’an had spent many years in the Imperial Pharmacy, had helped a great many palace attendants who could not afford medicine, and had handled no small number of private dealings.

This lifeline was unknown to the nobles of the palace and difficult to trace.

Ying Fusheng gave a few brief instructions. Song’an was puzzled at first, not knowing what His Highness intended, but he committed each point to memory. “This servant understands.”

He accepted the order and went out.

After he left, Ying Fusheng looked out through the gap in the window. The Weiyang Palace attendants outside were still busy. When Song’an had first come out, one or two of them had glanced up, but seeing it was only a small eunuch who then lowered his head and went back to sweeping, no one paid him any further attention, and no one noticed that Song’an had changed direction after leaving.

Ying Fusheng watched those attendants for a moment, and only when Song’an disappeared from view did he turn and walk back into the inner chamber. He then retrieved a simple needle case from behind the bedding, took a needle, and inserted it into the acupoints to regulate his own pulse and maintain his body temperature.

He felt the warmth inside him gradually rising, and with careful movements disposed of everything else.

When he lowered his eyes, there was nothing but cold.

A sustained fever was lethal for a young child, and Ying Fusheng had no intention of dying. The needling technique he was using had been taught to him by the female official he had known in his past life. It could stimulate circulation. In his past life he had used it to cling to life through the cold winters. Used now, it would overstimulate the body, and the increased circulation would raise his temperature enough to deceive anyone who checked on him.

Only someone too ill to be conscious would avoid arousing suspicion.

Ying Fusheng lowered his eyes and tossed aside the paper cricket he had treasured and kept from his past life, leaving it carelessly to one side. The firelight cast flickering shadows, and inside the brazier lay the remnants of medicine dregs that the charcoal fire had consumed.

He sat fully dressed, without any desire for sleep, his eyes looking out through the impenetrable walls toward the Wangyue Pavilion in the distance.

There was still time. This had to be done with patience.

Since Consort Ning was so fond of administering poison, he would return the courtesy in kind.