Chapter Thirty-Three: Troubles Multiply in Vain

A newcomer had arrived in the palace, and even the atmosphere turned subtly strange. The Queen had not lost favor because of this; as always, the King visited Anxue Palace every few days to spend the night, and it seemed his affection for her would never wane. Even the newly promoted consorts failed to attract the King's attention in the slightest.

At Anxue Palace, early in the morning, after the other concubines had dispersed, a summons came from Huizhai—an invitation from the Empress Dowager. Xuexue lifted her skirts and climbed into her sedan chair, dressed in a watery green gown that lent her a gentle appearance. Her hair was styled simply and solemnly in a pin bun, adorned on the right with a silver filigree hair ornament.

Nearby, Yuguifei, who had not yet left on her own sedan, turned her head just in time to see the Queen’s carriage moving away in the opposite direction.

“I wonder what the Empress Dowager wants with the Queen today?” the chief palace maid mused aloud, her heart brimming with envy at the Queen’s current popularity, yet pitying her own mistress.

“It must be about those two palace maids,” Yuguifei replied, gazing down the long, meticulously paved palace road ahead.

The endless path stretched far out of sight, leaving her feeling somewhat lost. Did the King truly favor the Queen so much that even the Empress Dowager paid her extra attention? Then, between the Queen and the Empress Dowager, how would the King choose?

She rested her head on her hand, a faint melancholy and sorrow clouding her beautiful face. Towards the Queen, she felt both jealousy and admiration: jealous that she so easily won the King's favor, and admiring her for her detached temperament.

Moreover, she was a blind woman. Yet, how many in the palace truly treated her as such?

Meanwhile, Xuexue arrived at Huizhai, where the Empress Dowager was silently reciting scriptures before a jade Buddha, the steady, crisp sound of the wooden fish echoing through the air.

“Your Majesty, please wait a moment. The Empress Dowager will finish this scroll first,” Eunuch Yundao said to Xuexue, arranging a seat for her.

“Thank you, Eunuch,” Xuexue nodded and sat down.

She sensed the tranquility of the place, scented faintly with incense—a distinct atmosphere. She could also faintly hear the Empress Dowager chanting.

After some time, the Empress Dowager completed her morning prayers.

“The Queen is here, just in time to accompany me for a walk,” she said, fingering a string of prayer beads, her attire plain and elegant, radiating a calm aura.

“I was thinking the same, Mother,” Xuexue replied.

They strolled through Huizhai, which, unlike the splendor of the royal palace, was refined and subdued, perfect for retreat. Yet, no matter how elegant, it was still within the palace walls; the Empress Dowager could never truly escape worldly affairs.

“How has your life in the palace been, Xue’er? And what do you think of your position as Queen?” The Empress Dowager admired the familiar scenery around them, posing the question to Xuexue with casual indifference.

“To live is to compromise, wherever one resides, one must live well. I believe, whether in the palace or elsewhere, regardless of one's rank, one should hold fast to their original intent,” Xuexue answered, her voice neither warm nor cold, but reassuring to hear.

“Well said. Life is compromise. Even I, even the King, cannot have everything our way,” the Empress Dowager nodded, a gentle smile on her face. “Thus, Xue’er, you must remember that surviving in the harem requires an understanding of this principle.”

She must be referring to the matter of Yao Qianqian and Cao Xingyu.

“Mother, I have always followed my heart, and will never invent trouble or stir up drama, lest I displease you or the King,” she replied, neither haughty nor humble, subtly countering the Empress Dowager’s words.

The Empress Dowager turned to study the young woman at her side, realizing she could not underestimate her.

Though young, she understood much and spoke with sharp eloquence.

“I know you have been wronged. The Cao and Yao ladies were indeed rude. But for the peace of the court and harmony of the harem, shouldn’t you consider the greater good?” The Empress Dowager shifted the topic, raising the stakes.

“Forgive me, Mother, but their case is the King’s decree. How could I influence his will?”

“That is true, but Wu Qing listens to you,” the Empress Dowager pressed.

“I dare not presume such,” she replied. To have the King obey her would be a grave offense, and the next accusation of being a seductive queen would surely fall upon her.

Yet, reality proved otherwise. That evening, after dinner, she casually mentioned the issue, and Ji Wu Qing agreed without hesitation.

“I never intended for them to be palace maids forever. Keeping them here is an eyesore,” he said, lounging with a book in hand, his long fingers idly pinching the pages, exuding a lazy charm. “Besides, their families’ constant petitions are bothersome.”

He meant the Cao and Yao clans at court.

“So, Your Majesty’s intention was merely to frighten those noble women,” she replied knowingly.

“I have no patience for such games. Mainly, they failed to show proper respect to my Queen, and they need a lesson,” he admitted, revealing a pettiness for retaliation. “And Xue’er, admit it—you never intended to punish them, only to send them out of the palace.”

“For them, failing to be chosen as consorts is punishment enough. To seek but not obtain is a perfect retribution.”

The next day, Ji Wu Qing issued an edict: in a month's time, the Cao and Yao ladies would leave the palace, accompanied by palace matrons sent to their families to instruct them in proper etiquette.

It was a humiliating decree, and the reputations of Cao Xingyu and Yao Qianqian were thoroughly ruined.

From then on, peace returned to the harem; no one dared disrespect Xuexue, as the harsh fate of those well-connected ladies served as a deterrent.

Yet, seated in her own palace, Xuexue felt an odd sense of bewilderment.

When had she and Ji Wu Qing grown so familiar, so effortlessly at ease with each other?

Though she scarcely understood him, their interactions had become so natural…

Perhaps, as time passed, one simply became accustomed.

She sat there, lost in thought, a pale, delicate face tinged with confusion, her brows slightly furrowed beneath her bangs. Surely, things were not meant to be this way between them.

“What troubles the Queen so much? Shouldn’t you stand above all others?” A sudden voice rang out, cold and harsh, tinged with mockery.

She snapped back to awareness, realizing that another person was now present in her chamber.

“You’re still in Ji Kingdom?” she remarked, surprised.

Was the Crown Prince of a foreign nation so idle? Or did he have more important plans in Ji Kingdom?

“To be precise, I am in the Queen’s bedchamber,” Dan Ying approached, sitting boldly across from her, his clear, cold gaze settling on her face.

“What courage, Your Highness. I wonder what connection you and I share that makes you so certain I won’t report today’s events to the King,” she said. She had no reason to conceal anything from Ji Wu Qing—unless he asked.

“Now that you are Queen of Ji Kingdom, you seem to have forgotten your youth. Didn’t you once declare your love for Yu Houjun? Have you forgotten him entirely?” Dan Ying stared at her, as if searching her expression for clues.

Unfortunately, he found nothing.

Her face remained calm, as though ignorant of all he spoke.

“What use is remembrance, but to add to one’s troubles? Besides, Yuan Xue is dead.” She only knew a little about Yuan Xue—her place in the family, her circumstances in the palace, and the pain and release of a cup of poison.

“So, your love for Yu Houjun was nothing after all?” Dan Ying’s tone was icy with sarcasm.

“What concern is that of Yours, Crown Prince? Are you here to defend Yu Houjun?” she replied indifferently, as if the matter had nothing to do with her.

She had no recollection of the love Dan Ying spoke of—perhaps Yuan Xue’s memories had faded, or perhaps Yuan Xue herself had forgotten…

She had never experienced those memories, nor felt obliged to bear their weight.

“But you are before me now, and every word you once spoke, I remember. So, Yuan Xue, you know what I will do.”

“…” Clearly, more words were futile. “Since our conversation is fruitless, Your Highness, I ask you to leave.”

“Are you dismissing me?” Dan Ying’s lips curled coldly, observing her calm features. She truly seemed to have forgotten everything, a little different from the Yuan Xue of his memory.

“As you say, Your Highness,” Xuexue replied.

She had no way to deal with this cold-faced prince; he insisted she was Yuan Xue, so she could only acquiesce. The truth was hard to believe…

“Farewell.” Dan Ying’s icy face changed slightly, and with those two words, he vanished.

Sensing that Dan Ying was gone, Xuexue frowned. It seemed she had provoked someone unusual. No—not her, but Yuan Xue had.

Now she faced trouble, and she wanted no part in their affairs, but Yuan Xue was dead…

Well, step by step, she would see how things unfolded. One day, he would realize that although she was Yuan Xue, she was also not the same person.

“Your Majesty, are you awake?” Taoxin called softly from outside the door, as if there was an urgent matter.

“Yes, come in,” she answered, rising to tidy her clothes, looking as if she had just awakened from a midday nap.

“Your Majesty, there’s chaos outside! The Yao lady is clutching Qi Xuan’s arm, weeping and begging for you to uphold justice!”