Chapter Forty: The Phoenix and the Sparrow

Hui Studio.

Even when such a heinous crime had erupted within the palace, the Empress Dowager remained as composed as ever, quietly reciting sutras and observing her fast in her own quarters.

The side hall was suffused with a gentle tranquility. Eyes closed, lips moving soundlessly, she recited the sutras while her hands kept a rhythmic pace on the wooden fish, the percussive beat merging seamlessly with the silent flow of scripture.

Outside the side hall, Yu Xiao stood in the corridor draped with verdant vines. Her attire was understated yet dignified, the hem of her gown trailing gracefully along the ground, outlining an elegant arc. The beauty stood motionless, a solitary red blossom amidst the green, strikingly conspicuous.

“What are you thinking of so intently, looking so troubled?” At some point, the Empress Dowager had emerged from the side hall and now stood beside Yu Xiao, gazing at the distant, radiant orchids.

“Which woman in the palace is truly happy, Your Majesty?” Yu Xiao sighed, her question forthright.

“One finds happiness only upon attaining one’s desires. Think of Yao Qianqian and Cao Xingyu—they entered the palace precisely to become concubines, believing that would fulfill their wishes. Pity their means were too clumsy, and in the end, they lost everything.” At the mention of those two noble daughters, the Empress Dowager’s tone betrayed a hint of disappointment.

After all, she had personally selected them, only for the entire affair to almost backfire on her.

“Your Majesty, do you think it’s time we took action? We have long remained mere observers, but the present situation may no longer allow us to stand aside.” Yu Xiao looked into the distance, a silent resolve forming within her.

“That’s good, Xiao’er. At last, you have the will to fight for yourself. You must understand: if you cannot obtain something, you must use every means, fair or foul, to strive for it. In the end, it’s all a test of skill.” Wasn’t her own position secured by her own abilities?

Who can truly be relied upon? In the end, one must depend on oneself.

“I understand, Your Majesty. From this day forth, I shall devote all my efforts to serve you.” Yu Xiao’s earnestness was a stark contrast to her usual nonchalance.

She had spent years in the palace, keeping a low profile, never making any moves, for she knew the King would not favor a scheming woman. Yet now, she saw the truth clearly—she could not find even a shadow of herself in the King’s eyes, not the slightest trace…

“From today’s events, I have discovered a role that cannot be overlooked—a woman who might be of use to us.”

“Your Majesty refers to…”

A gentle breeze swept by as Xue Xue ordered her sedan to halt and invited Tao Xin to accompany her for a stroll along the lake.

Tao Xin was overjoyed. The Queen rarely ventured out—she spent her days quietly reading or practicing calligraphy in her study, her daily routine unfailingly disciplined, though perhaps a bit monotonous. The Queen, a girl of merely eighteen, conducted herself with a maturity that left no trace of youthful exuberance.

The two walked, one behind the other, palace maids and eunuchs following at a discreet distance, ready to serve at a moment’s notice.

The surface of the lake was restless, waves undulating, setting the lotus leaves swaying like dancers’ skirts rising above the water.

She felt the wind in her face, sending her bangs—almost long enough to cover her eyes—into disarray.

“Your Majesty,” Tao Xin could not help but call softly.

“What is it?” Eyes closed, Xue Xue savored the cool breeze, her serene features touched by a faint, gentle smile, as calm as the rippling lake.

“It’s nothing serious—just that I have some doubts about Attendant Qi…”

“It’s merely everyone acting for their own interests. What is there to question?” She replied calmly, clearly unconcerned by Qi Wanliang’s little schemes.

However, the others in the palace were not so naïve. Everyone saw clearly enough: the Queen had shown undeniable favor to Attendant Qi, protecting her, subtly or otherwise. Yet Attendant Qi appeared ungrateful, intent on currying favor with the King.

Thus, Qi Wanliang had managed to alienate Xue Xue and earn the disdain of everyone else in the palace. Clearly, she was not as timid or helpless as she appeared; even if she were, she still harbored ambition.

So, Attendant Qi was not a sparrow living under the shadow of the phoenix, but a sparrow longing to become a phoenix herself.

Their group wandered slowly around the lake. Not far off, two figures approached—it was none other than the embattled Attendant Qi.

Xue Xue pretended not to notice her, turning onto the long bridge that led to the pavilion at the heart of the lake. The bridge was built just above the water, barely separated from its surface by a slender gap.

Qi Wanliang, seemingly anxious, hurried with her maid toward the other bridge, as if there were something urgent she needed to say to Xue Xue.

Xue Xue suspected she was about to pour out her heart in hopes of winning sympathy or “forgiveness.”

Unfortunately, she herself was not one to be moved by such appeals. Besides, she had no particular grievance against Qi Wanliang; if she did not take things to heart, there was nothing to forgive.

“It seems Attendant Qi has grown bolder—she even dared try to intercept Your Majesty just now,” Tao Xin remarked, faintly displeased by Qi Wanliang’s audacity.

She motioned to a young eunuch behind her to stop the hastening Qi Wanliang, preventing her from entering the pavilion and disturbing the Queen’s leisure.

“Your Majesty, Queen, please, let me say just one thing,” Qi Wanliang pleaded, her small face marked by urgency and supplication.

Her hair was disheveled, her appearance a little bedraggled, yet her tone had changed, now more resolute, lacking the usual timid deference.

“Attendant Qi, do not raise your voice here; it is beneath your station.” Tao Xin’s tone was formal but not deliberately harsh, careful not to damage the Queen’s reputation—polite, yet firm.

“Aunt Tao Xin, please let me see Her Majesty. I can explain everything… I truly don’t know how things turned out this way. I never imagined it would come to this…” Her face was all innocence, as though she genuinely had not expected that exposing Cao Xingyu’s plot would earn her the Queen’s displeasure.

In truth, strictly speaking, Qi Wanliang had rendered a service.

“Attendant Qi, who taught you palace protocol?” Suddenly, Xue Xue, who had been ‘appreciating’ the lake view, finally spoke.

“Your Majesty, I have come to admit my faults and beg your forgiveness…” Qi Wanliang said quickly, each word earnest.

“To forgive you for breaking palace rules and shouting before me? Go back and recite the regulations in your own quarters until you have learned them thoroughly, then we can discuss this matter,” she replied, leaving Qi Wanliang no room for argument.

“Your Majesty…”

“Does Attendant Qi think that just because she rendered a service today, she can disregard palace rules? I am always fair in reward and punishment. Since you have meritorious deeds, go and properly receive the rewards I grant you on behalf of the King, and then reflect on your conduct.” Her words left no opening for protest, yet were impeccably just.

“Thank you for your guidance, Your Majesty.” Qi Wanliang knelt and bowed in thanks, her demeanor unnecessarily abject—who knew if she was frightened or simply overreacting.

Soon, Qi Wanliang departed with her maid, as if fearful Xue Xue would lose her temper.

Her expression as she left was not one of anger or resentment over Xue Xue’s treatment, but rather of regret at missing the chance to build a favorable relationship with the Queen.

She was a government official’s daughter from a small place; such an opportunity to enter the palace was rare. The palace’s splendor immediately captivated her—she wanted the best, without living in constant fear of bullying. She had thought she would find protection in the Queen, but her impatience had led to thoughts of currying favor with the King…

“Attendant, what shall we do now? It seems the Queen wants nothing further to do with us.” Qi Wanliang’s maid was anxious—this precious connection had collapsed so suddenly; what a pity.

Moreover, her mistress was neither especially beautiful nor particularly talented—how could she ever hope to turn her fortunes in the palace?

“Her Majesty is just upset at the moment. There will be a way,” Qi Wanliang replied perfunctorily, already scheming her next move.

Yet, unbeknownst to them, Xue Xue had already drawn a clear line between herself and them.

Luwei Palace.

Xiliang, who seldom left her quarters, could not help but sigh upon hearing of Cao Xingyu’s fate, though she herself bore some indirect responsibility. But so what? It was all Cao Xingyu’s own doing—she had only nudged things along.

Yet the Cao family suffered a heavy blow. Their legitimate daughter tried to use underhanded means to gain a consort’s seat, bringing disgrace to the family. Master Cao’s plea for clemency earned him only a six-month suspension to reflect on his errors at home.

As the saying goes, “One stone stirs a thousand waves”—the Cao Xingyu affair was nothing if not that.

“My lady, do you realize your move has placed you at the very center of the storm? Cao Xingyu is no easy adversary; she keeps insisting you masterminded everything, claiming you are the instigator,” said Meigu, her expression troubled. “These peaceful days may be at an end.”

“So what? The King himself hasn’t said a word; why should I care what they do?” Xiliang replied unconcerned. The King only wished to make an example of Cao Xingyu—he wouldn’t bother with a silent, unobtrusive concubine.

She had only gone along with his intentions—adding a little fuel to the fire.