“My lady!” Bizhu called out in warning.

Consort Ning heard that Ying Fusheng had come, and her expression flickered for a moment. But she still remembered the image she had to maintain within the palace, and she had no choice but to let him in. “Show him in.”

The attendants went to fetch him. From a distance, Consort Ning watched Ying Fusheng approach. He came by several times every day, but looking at him carefully now, she realized his color was far better than it used to be.

That little bastard who couldn’t even get out of bed was now free to leave the palace entirely.

“Mother, your son has come to pay his respects,” Ying Fusheng said, bowing.

Consort Ning said nothing.

Ying Fusheng raised his eyes slightly and caught a glimpse of the wet stain spreading across the floor. Even with a prompt cleanup, traces still remained.

Seeing Consort Ning’s current state, the morning court session must have brought her some “welcome” news.

He finished his greeting and moved to step closer. Bizhu came forward to intercept him. “Your Highness, the Lady is unwell. She says she doesn’t want to pass the illness on. Please don’t come too close. The physician says she needs rest.”

On the bed, Consort Ning lay wrapped in her robes. Her face looked drawn, and dark shadows ringed her eyes, giving her every appearance of someone genuinely ill.

“Then please rest well, Mother. I’ll come again tomorrow.” Ying Fusheng watched Consort Ning’s performance from a distance, a cold laugh turning over inside him. He had gotten what he came for. He had Song’an bring out the things he had brought from outside the palace, then said, “Take care of yourself, Mother. Your son will take his leave.”

Consort Ning stared at Ying Fusheng’s retreating figure, her gaze fixed on his profile.

After he left, the sickly air around Consort Ning did not lift. Her complexion remained dark. She stared at the things Ying Fusheng had sent for a long time. Why should he… her son was still under house arrest, while that thing came and went from the palace as he pleased. She stared for a long while, and the urge to reach out and sweep it all to the floor nearly overtook her. Bizhu noticed and rushed to stop her, then looked up to find Consort Ning’s expression utterly frightening. “My lady!”

Calming incense drifted from the censer in the hall. Consort Ning’s eyes were hollow and haggard, and in the haze of smoke, something about her seemed deeply wrong.

Since returning from the Huguo Temple, her mistress had not been quite herself. She would fix her gaze on some point and stare, muttering to herself about wanting to destroy something.

That unhinged behavior terrified Bizhu. These past days, her mistress had been sleeping poorly, jolting awake in the middle of the night and smashing things. The physician had been called and said only that she needed rest. Fortunately, Consort Ning still managed to appear composed in front of others. But just now, the Cining Palace attendants who had come with the Sixth Prince had barely left, and her mistress had nearly made a scene.

“That face of his,” Consort Ning said. “It looks more and more like her.”

Bizhu’s heart clenched. “My lady, you’re imagining things. So many people in the palace, and none of them have noticed any resemblance between the Sixth Prince and Her Majesty the Empress.”

“More and more like her… no, how can it look more and more like her?” Consort Ning murmured, her tone and expression both unsettling.

Bizhu quickly lowered her voice and urged, “My lady, please calm yourself. The Crown Prince is only under house arrest. Why torment yourself over this?”

Consort Ning did not answer. The shadow in her eyes refused to lift, only deepened. She slowly closed them. “The message I asked you to spread. Has it gone out?”

Seeing her mistress return to something like her usual self, Bizhu let out a quiet breath of relief. “This servant has seen to it. Some of the palace attendants have received favors from you over the years and didn’t need any prompting…”

“Good.” Consort Ning’s expression was unreadable. She thought of the Emperor summoning Ying Fusheng to the Qianqing Palace just a few days ago. The Crown Prince was still under house arrest, yet that bastard had caught the Emperor’s eye again and again. In a daze, the image from that night at the Huguo Temple surfaced in her mind, that face gradually overlapping with another, the face that looked so much like Empress Xu’s, playing over and over before her. The more it appeared, the more vicious her eyes became.

“Once that’s done, send word to my father for me. Tell him to go before the Emperor and…”

* * *

Another half month passed. The Sixth Prince visited the Weiyang Palace several times, but each time he left because Consort Ning was unwell. Gradually, rumors began circulating through the palace that Consort Ning was pining for her son and had grown distracted with worry, that the physician had been called multiple times and confirmed she was longing for the Sixth Prince.

The Sixth Prince was a prince, after all. With Consort Ning still in the palace, it was a kind thing for the Empress Dowager to keep the boy close while he recovered. But as time stretched on, the Sixth Prince could hardly stay at the Cining Palace indefinitely.

There were many princes and princesses in the palace. The Ning family enjoyed imperial favor at court. The Sixth Prince was beloved by the Empress Dowager. The other consorts had been holding their schemes in check, and when Consort Ning was confined by the Empress Dowager, more than a few had quietly gloated. But then word came from the court that the Emperor held Vice Minister Ning in high regard.

The consorts were perceptive women. Every one of them could see that this was the stick followed by the sweet. Now, with word spreading through the palace that the Sixth Prince had been staying at the Cining Palace and Consort Ning was desperately missing her son, who could still justify keeping the Sixth Prince at the Empress Dowager’s side? What would that mean for the standing of the other princes and princesses?

The talk spread from mouth to mouth and quickly reached the Emperor’s ears.

Vice Minister Ning of the Ministry of Rites had been performing well at court of late, handling one task after another with distinction after the Shrine of Military Heroes affair, and the Emperor had come to rely on him. As a result, Vice Minister Ning had raised the matter of the Sixth Prince on several occasions, softening his stance on Consort Ning’s behalf and pleading that the Sixth Prince was young and still needed his mother’s care.

The Emperor listened, but said nothing in response.

He rarely involved himself in the affairs of the inner palace and simply sent word to the Empress Dowager at the Cining Palace.

Over these past days, Ying Fusheng had been going through the motions with Consort Ning. A devoted son visiting his ailing mother. Everyone loved to see it.

When he came to pay his respects to the Empress Dowager, he found several consorts already there, speaking with her.

“Xiaoqing looks so much more robust than the last time I saw it,” the consorts said admiringly, praising the Empress Dowager’s beloved bird.

“It’s put on a little weight too,” the Empress Dowager said.

“A little plumpness brings good fortune,” the consorts said, glancing from time to time at Ying Fusheng as he came to pay his respects. One of them had brought a princess along and had her sitting before the Empress Dowager. The consort shifted her tone with deliberate implication. “I hear the Sixth Prince has been going out of the palace these past days. Vice Minister Ning did such fine work with the Shrine of Military Heroes. Everyone in the capital is singing the praises of His Majesty and the Empress Dowager.”

“Vice Minister Ning did handle that matter well,” the Empress Dowager said.

Ying Fusheng could hear that beneath the praise, the Empress Dowager’s tone carried a faint undercurrent of displeasure.

The consort failed to read the room and pressed on. “Indeed. They say all the affairs of the Ministry of Rites are being handled by Vice Minister Ning these days. That’s a good thing. His Majesty and the Empress Dowager can both set their minds at ease. Isn’t that right, Sixth Prince?”

“You are very well-informed, my lady,” Ying Fusheng said with a slightly shy smile. “I’ve been out of the palace for a few days and haven’t heard much about my grandfather’s affairs.”

The consort’s expression shifted slightly. She was about to explain herself. “That’s not quite… it’s just that everyone on the streets is…”

“Enough.” The Empress Dowager’s voice dropped. “I am tired.”

The consort was visibly reluctant, but with the Empress Dowager’s word given, she had no choice but to leave.

Ying Fusheng noticed the princess looking back at the Empress Dowager with reluctance, her gaze drifting his way as well. He picked up a pastry and held it out to her.

The princess quietly thanked her imperial brother and followed the consort out.

The Empress Dowager had caught Ying Fusheng’s gesture. She could see what these women were angling for, bringing the princess along and making their pointed remarks. It all tied back to the rumors circulating through the palace lately. She looked at Ying Fusheng beside her, considered for a moment, and spoke. “Do you wish to return to your mother’s palace?”

Ying Fusheng’s gaze shifted slightly. “Grandmother, your grandson should be at your side to serve you.”

The Empress Dowager frowned faintly at that. If Consort Ning truly cared for this child, she would have excused him from the daily visits. Every trip to the Weiyang Palace meant braving the cold wind, and for Ying Fusheng’s health, that was a burden. Consort Ning’s silence on the matter was a performance put on for her benefit.

Her gaze grew quiet. She looked at Ying Fusheng and let out a soft sigh. “You are a filial child.”

Ying Fusheng paused. He kept his expression composed, but the word filial had nothing to do with him.

In two lifetimes, whatever filial devotion he had shown had never led anywhere good.

“We’ll speak of this later. Go rest,” the Empress Dowager said, waving him off. Ying Fusheng rose to leave, and caught the Empress Dowager pressing a handkerchief briefly to her lips.

He stopped mid-turn and looked back. “Grandmother, it’s cold. Your grandson will have Song’an prepare some snow pear soup and send it over shortly.”

Only after Ying Fusheng had gone did the Empress Dowager allow herself to cough.

Aunt Yu said with concern, “This servant will go and call the physician.”

The Empress Dowager shook her head with a resigned look. “It’s the same old thing. I just find myself wanting some snow pear soup.”

Ying Fusheng returned to his quarters and passed the instructions to Song’an.

Song’an had not noticed the Empress Dowager’s discomfort, and the small medicine room nearby had seen no activity these past days. He accepted the task at once and went to arrange it. After giving the instructions, Ying Fusheng seemed to drift off in thought, his gaze drifting faintly toward the window in the direction of the Empress Dowager’s quarters. Song’an spoke up at the right moment. “Will Your Highness deliver the snow pear soup in person later?”

Ying Fusheng paused and came back to himself. “You go,” he said to Song’an.

Song’an could see His Highness had no wish to discuss it further, and turned to another matter of importance. “There has been news from the Weiyang Palace these past few days.”

Ying Fusheng walked to the desk. The weiqi set the Empress Dowager had sent over sat on it.

Ever since he began attending lessons at the Wenhua Hall, the Empress Dowager had sent him quite a few things.

Black and white pieces lay scattered across the board. Ying Fusheng stood over it, idly moving pieces as he listened to Song’an’s report. “Then the time is about right. The Crown Prince is under house arrest, the First Prince is riding the wind, and a flame burning too bright becomes the target.”

Song’an looked at Ying Fusheng with mild puzzlement. He watched him set a piece down gently, then heard him say quietly, “Now we wait and see what Hu Buyu does.”

Ever since His Highness had helped the Hu family, Lord Hu had become Vice Minister of War. Yet His Highness had never made direct contact with Lord Hu, had never sent word the way he once had with Lord Shen Changcun. It was as though the two of them had no connection whatsoever.

“Should we send word to Lord Hu?” Song’an asked.

“If every move requires a message, it’s a dead piece.” Ying Fusheng flicked a finger, and a black stone rolled to another position. “A clever man will move on his own.”

* * *

Within a matter of days, the Emperor began summoning officials to the palace for discussions with increasing frequency. The military provisions case had exposed a great many hidden problems, and once the Emperor appointed Hu Buyu as Vice Minister of War, he all but gave him free rein. Hu Buyu moved decisively, clearing out the remaining rot and unearthing several long-buried old cases. The First Prince had even lent a hand with one of them. When Hu Buyu presented his report at morning court, the Emperor was greatly pleased and praised the First Prince openly before all the assembled officials.

Since entering the court, Hu Buyu had kept close to the First Prince in appearance, but had little actual involvement with him in matters of governance.

After this court presentation and the Emperor’s praise, more than a few officials fell into quiet thought.

The moment court adjourned, someone called out to Vice Minister Ning.

“Vice Minister Ning has been enjoying considerable imperial favor of late. Several major tasks handled beautifully, and the Emperor has praised you publicly more than once.”

Vice Minister Ning had always enjoyed being admired, and hearing a colleague’s appreciation was all the more gratifying. “Not at all. It’s all thanks to my colleagues’ support.”

“I hear you paid a visit to Grand Secretary Xu’s residence a few days ago?” the colleague probed. “The Grand Secretary has rarely entertained colleagues from the court over the years. You must be something special, my lord.”

Vice Minister Ning felt a swell of private satisfaction. He had been sending calling cards to Grand Secretary Xu for some time, thinking it best to extend goodwill first, and had fully prepared himself to be turned away. Yet when he sent his card again a couple of days ago, he was received. He and the Grand Secretary had shared only a few cups of tea, but it had gone a long way toward closing the distance between them.

“Perhaps your moment has come, my lord,” the colleague said.

“How do you mean?” Vice Minister Ning asked.

“You may not be aware, my lord, but the Minister of Rites handled several matters recently that greatly displeased the Emperor. These past months, the Emperor has been routing those tasks to you instead. Is that not a sign of the Emperor’s confidence?” The colleague’s meaning was pointed. “Some are already saying the Emperor intends to promote you.”

Vice Minister Ning laughed it off without directly acknowledging the implication, but he took the words to heart.

He didn’t need anyone to spell it out. He understood perfectly well. Tasks like these would never have come his way before. The Shrine of Military Heroes affair had turned his fortunes completely upside down, and the most important factor was the Emperor himself. With the Emperor relying on him, his standing naturally changed. The First Prince’s faction and the Crown Prince’s faction had been locked in fierce struggle, and his superior, the Minister of Rites, had close ties to the Prince of Yongjia. Everyone knew the First Prince’s maternal Yun clan had close ties to the Prince of Yongjia as well.

Grand Secretary Xu’s softened attitude at this moment carried the quiet suggestion of wanting to draw him in.

He kept his composure. Then the very next day at court, someone submitted a memorial impeaching the Minister of Rites.

Vice Minister Ning felt in that instant that when a person’s luck truly arrived, everything changed. The Minister of Rites stood accused of corruption and *buse of power, and the one who filed the impeachment was one of his own trusted subordinates. That was enough to send a whirlpool through a court that had appeared balanced.

But while he was occupied with court affairs, Consort Ning kept sending him letters.

“Tell her to settle down about palace matters!” Vice Minister Ning was in the thick of court business. “As for the Emperor, I’ll speak to him myself in due course.”

The messenger reported, “Bizhu says my lady’s state of mind has been very poor lately…”

Vice Minister Ning was busy with his own advancement and had no time for Consort Ning. He noticed his tone had been sharp, and thought of his daughter, who had never been one to suffer in silence. She had endured years of careful maneuvering in the palace, but her nature had always run to extremes. Otherwise she would never have… done what she did with the child swap. “If her mind is troubled, have her call the physician. Remind her not to cause trouble during this period. She’s endured all these years. She can endure a little longer.”

The messenger delivered the reply to the palace. Consort Ning heard the answer and knocked over quite a few more things.

Bizhu quickly had the palace physician prescribe a few restorative remedies, then pressed calming tea on Consort Ning to soothe her mood and coaxed her into resting at midday. Consort Ning was quiet for half a day, but then she jolted awake in the middle of her sleep, hair loose, staring at Bizhu.

Bizhu was startled by the state of her. She called out twice. “My lady, another nightmare?”

Consort Ning seemed to claw her way out of the nightmare. Her gaze was dark and distant, and her expression slowly turned vicious. “Where is that bastard?”

“My lady, the Sixth Prince is at the Cining Palace!” Bizhu said.

Consort Ning came back to herself, freed from the nightmare. She realized she was still under house arrest. The nightmare from the Huguo Temple followed her like a shadow. Night after night she dreamed of that bastard’s face growing more and more recognizable, of someone finally noticing. “Since the Sixth Prince hasn’t fully recovered, send some more restorative medicine over.”

Bizhu froze, understanding exactly what she meant. “My lady!”

“The dosage is small enough that the palace physicians won’t detect it. It’ll make him suffer a little. What’s wrong with that?” Consort Ning murmured, her voice turning steadily more vicious. “If there’s something that could ruin his face, that would be even better. That face cannot stay.”

Bizhu tried to reason with her. Consort Ning’s eyes turned on her like a demon’s. “Why aren’t you moving!”

……

Light flickered and dimmed. Heavy curtains blocked out the world.

A thick smell of medicine hung in the air. Someone drew closer and closer. Consort Ning walked in, a few palace attendants following behind her. Ying Fusheng looked up. An attendant carried a bowl of medicine toward him, the surface scattered with fine dregs, and inch by inch it seemed to become something else entirely.

Consort Ning fussed over him with warm words. Ying Fusheng watched the medicine draw nearer and nearer, until his own hands closed around the bowl. The acrid liquid ran down his throat, and he swallowed it mouthful by mouthful, as though he had no idea what it was.

Inside the Cining Palace, Ying Fusheng lurched awake from convulsions, hunched over the edge of the bed, retching uncontrollably, trying to tear out whatever was lodged in his throat. But a moment later, he reached instinctively for the needle pouch in the hidden compartment of the bed frame. His hand found nothing. He came back to himself and looked down at his own small hands.

Ying Fusheng sat still for a long moment, staring blankly at Song’an asleep on the small bed nearby, and then snapped fully awake.

A nightmare. He was going backwards. To dream something like that.

He had dreamed of the past, of trusting Consort Ning, of swallowing gut-rotting poison thinking it was medicine to heal him.

Ying Fusheng smoothed his sleeve back down. His gaze drifted to the calming incense burning in the distance, and he murmured to himself, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Someone is just about ready to lose her mind.”