The Empress sat on her throne, listening to her trusted nanny report on the progress of the purge in the harem: "...Your Majesty, there are a total of seventeen people involved in the Consort's old faction, including three head maids, five maids, and nine eunuchs. As Your Majesty ordered, the ringleaders were beaten to death, and the rest were either sent to the laundry department or banished to the Cold Palace, never to be used again. All spies have been removed, and the new personnel have all been thoroughly investigated."

The Empress nodded slightly, picked up her teacup, and gently skimmed off the foam with the lid. Her demeanor was graceful, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority: "Hmm. The inner palace cannot tolerate evil spirits. This purge must be thorough, as a warning to others. The Emperor's offspring are of utmost importance, and the bloodline of the Crown Prince must not be lost. Issue my decree: the Imperial Household Department must select a group of honest, experienced matrons and maids to be prepared for the Crown Princess (referring to Luo Qingrou, though not yet married, the Empress used this term as a reminder) to take over the Eastern Palace, and... for the return of the imperial granddaughter from Jiangnan." She paused deliberately. "As for that Shen woman from Jiangnan, the rewards must not be meager; she has rendered meritorious service by giving birth to the Crown Prince's daughter. But rules are rules." Her words, a blend of kindness and severity, demonstrated the Empress's grand-scale demeanor and unfathomable cunning.

The old woman understood immediately and respectfully withdrew.

That night, the Emperor made a rare visit to Fengyi Palace. Perhaps the betrayal of the Consort still haunted him, or perhaps the birth of his granddaughter touched a soft spot in his heart. Looking at the Empress, who remained dignified and beautiful under the candlelight, he revealed a rare hint of tenderness.

“Zitong,” the Emperor said, holding the Empress’s hand with a touch of reminiscence, “Do you remember when I first saw you in the Imperial Garden? You were only fifteen years old then, wearing a pale yellow dress, chasing butterflies among the peonies, your smile so bright, like the most beautiful flower in spring… I couldn’t take my eyes off you after just one glance.”

The Empress lowered her eyelids, her long eyelashes concealing the cold mockery surging deep within her eyes. She allowed the Emperor to hold her hand, a perfectly timed blush of shyness and nostalgia appearing on her face, her voice gentle as water: "Your Majesty... so many years have passed, yet you still remember." Her fingertips, unseen by the Emperor, dug tightly into her palm within her sleeve.

Remember? She sneered inwardly. Of course she remembered! She remembered how, under her family's arrangement, she entered the palace for the imperial concubine selection, full of hope. She remembered the emperor's astonished gaze upon their first meeting, but even more so, she remembered how he turned around and meticulously dismantled her father's painstakingly built military power, promoting the concubine's father to the top! She remembered him saying "love at first sight," yet spending every night in the concubine's palace, allowing her to openly and secretly plot against her! She remembered how many times she had spent the night alone in her empty chamber, listening to the water clock, her heart growing colder and colder! That so-called "bright and beautiful" was nothing but a mask she was forced to wear, a shackle imposed on her by her family!

His tenderness at this moment was merely a brief consolation after losing his favored concubine, an affirmation of her role as a "virtuous empress" in stabilizing the harem, and even more so... a disguised form of appeasement for the granddaughter of the emperor who carried the blood of the crown prince! Where was there even a trace of genuine affection?

"Yes, it's all in the past." The Empress raised her head, her face still bearing an impeccable, gentle smile. She lightly grasped the Emperor's hand, seemingly lost in beautiful memories. "Your Majesty's kindness towards me has always been deeply appreciated." But her heart was frozen solid, chilled to the bone. The love and affection within this deep palace had long been shrewdly schemed against, neglected, and trampled upon in countless dark nights. All she desired was a secure position for her son as Crown Prince, the safety and well-being of her grandchildren, and the power that came with the Empress's throne to protect those she wished to protect. As for the Emperor's belated "warmth"? He was merely another pawn in this cold game of power. Her outward appearance was gentle, but the disdain and coldness in her heart were known only to the cold moonlight outside the window.