Betrayed by everyone

The emperor's decree to select candidates for the imperial concubines was like a boulder thrown into a still lake, its ripples quickly spreading throughout the land.

The official road leading to the capital suddenly became busy, with ornately decorated carriages rumbling along, carrying carefully selected ladies from all over the country and the ambitions of their families, forming a beautiful stream flowing towards the Forbidden City.

The air inside the imperial city became thick and subtle.

The Cining Palace was perpetually filled with precious spices and a certain aged, core-of-power scent. Registers and portraits were piled high on the rosewood desk, almost burying the Empress Dowager, who was engrossed in them. Her fingertips traced the yellowed Xuan paper, her gaze behind the magnifying glass sharp as an eagle's.

“Hmm, this is good,” she nodded to her trusted nanny beside her, her voice carrying a long-lost eagerness, “Plump figure, broad brows, a sign of a woman who will bear sons. Make a note of it.”

A lady dressed in the robes of an imperial consort flattered her at the opportune moment: "Your Majesty has a good eye. This is my niece from my maternal family. She is the most gentle and sensible..."

Even the Shou Kang Palace could not find peace.

The Empress Dowager was gentle by nature and mostly just accompanied her. Occasionally, when the Grand Empress Dowager asked, she would softly respond with a few words: "What the Empress Dowager says is true." or "She seems to be a blessed person." She held Buddhist prayer beads in her hand, but her gaze would often drift to the window, sweeping over the layers of palaces and landing in the direction of Kunning Palace, with an unspeakable worry hidden in her eyes.

In stark contrast to these two bustling places, the Qianqing Palace was deathly silent.

Wei Jin sat behind his desk, his wolf-hair vermilion brush suspended in mid-air. A drop of deep red ink silently fell onto the character "Approved" in the memorial, spreading a small, glaring red stain. Outside the hall, the whispers of officials from the Imperial Household Department urging the craftsmen to hang the colorful silk ribbons, and the footsteps of officials from the Ministry of Rites checking procedures, were like dense needles, piercing his eardrums with every pore.

The memorials in front of him were piled up like a mountain, but he hadn't turned a single page in a long time.

"Your Majesty," the eunuch Wang Jin approached cautiously, his voice extremely low, "the preliminary list of candidates submitted by the Ministry of Rites..."

"Leave it." Wei Jin's voice was flat, like a frozen lake.

Wang Jin held his breath and put down the list. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a few lines of neat and slender red ink annotations at the top of the list, which seemed to be the Empress's handwriting.

He dared not look any longer and bowed as he withdrew.

The hall fell silent once more. Wei Jin's gaze fell on the list, and finally, he reached out and opened it.

"Jiang Shi, age sixteen, father: Prefect of Jizhou. Annotation: healthy, mother raised three sons and one daughter without incident. Rating: Top Grade."

"Chen, aged fifteen, father: Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. Annotation: Gentle and obedient, skilled in music, rating: A."

...

Each line of cold comments was like an ice blade she had personally honed, precisely cutting away his last thoughts. He could almost see her in the Cining Palace, calmly, even with an academic-like focus, discussing these women's "fertility potential" with the Empress Dowager.

“Virtuous…” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he let out a very soft, almost broken sneer.

On this day at court, after discussing several important military and political matters, an old minister who considered himself a member of the "pure stream" (a term referring to a group of upright officials) suddenly stepped forward, holding a jade tablet, and said loudly, "Your Majesty, the Ministry of Rites and the Inner Court have handled the selection of concubines well. The Empress has also been very magnanimous and generous, personally selecting virtuous ladies without any jealousy. She truly embodies the demeanor of an empress, which is a blessing for Your Majesty and a boon for the nation!"

The hall fell silent for a moment, then several ministers stepped forward and echoed, "Her Majesty the Empress is virtuous!"

"This is an auspicious omen for our nation!"

On the throne, Wei Jin held the jade tablet between his knuckles, which turned bluish-white. His gaze swept over the faces below, some sincere and some obsequious, and he felt that each word of "virtuous" and "magnanimous" was like a red-hot iron, burning his heart.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he suppressed the metallic taste, finally squeezing out a short, cold syllable through his teeth: "Mmm."

After the court session ended, Wang Jin carefully carried several memorials and followed the imperial carriage.

He whispered, "Your Majesty, these are the documents praising the Empress's virtues today..."

"Burn it." Wei Jin's voice was completely flat as he interrupted him.

The real chill did not come from the clamorous "praise" from the previous dynasty and the harem.

At dinner time, the young bull led the eunuchs to set the table, his movements meticulous, his eyes lowered, a far cry from his usual playful and joking self. Wei Jin looked at the exquisite dishes and suddenly spoke, his voice tinged with a dryness he himself didn't realize:

"Is there no soup today...?"

The little bull paused, then respectfully replied, "Your Majesty, the Imperial Kitchen has prepared yam and pork rib soup today, which is very nourishing. This servant will have it served immediately." He was referring to the soup prepared by the Imperial Kitchen as usual, not the "filial piety" soup he had secretly added medicinal herbs to and simmered for several hours.

Wei Jin's gaze lingered for a moment on that chubby, businesslike face, and he felt a chill run through his heart, leaving him feeling empty.

He waved his hand: "No need."

He attempted to summon Shen Xiao.

The reply was a document from the Ministry of War: General Shen has gone to the main camp outside the capital to supervise the training of new recruits, and his return date is undetermined.

He personally went to the camp on the outskirts of Beijing.

The soldiers knelt to welcome him. Among the crowd, Shen Xiao, clad in armor, paid his respects with military salute, his gaze steady, but deliberately avoiding eye contact with the emperor.

"Xiao'er," Wei Jin dismissed those around him, trying to regain a semblance of his former tone, "the Ministry of War has been very busy lately, you've worked hard."

"Serving the country with utmost loyalty is my duty, and I dare not complain of hardship." Shen Xiao answered flawlessly, his tone respectful to his monarch, devoid of any casualness between father and son. "There are still some training exercises to be completed in the camp. If Your Majesty has nothing else to say, this humble general will take his leave."

Watching his tall but aloof figure disappear into the dust and smoke of the training ground.

Wei Jin stood there, the setting sun casting a long shadow over him, but it couldn't fill the desolation in his heart.

He couldn't even find Shen Hong and Sui He; every time he answered, they were in the countryside.

Their experimental fields remained lush and green, but he only saw the name of the latest batch of golden melons, which were said to be exceptionally sweet, on the list of rations submitted to the Kunning Palace by the Imperial Household Department.

What made him feel most choked up was Susu.

He picked up an old undergarment with a worn collar and casually said to Ling Feng, who was on duty, "I'm used to wearing this. Have Su Su's embroidery workshop make another one exactly the same when they have time."

Ling Feng stiffened slightly, bowed his head and clasped his hands: "Your Majesty, all the clothing in the palace is made to order. This matter... needs to be handled by the Imperial Household Department to procure the materials, allocate workshops, and follow the usual procedures. The Xiufang workshop is currently working hard to produce the palace costumes needed for the selection of concubines and the preliminary selection outfits for each concubine. I'm afraid... it will delay Your Majesty."

Wei Jin looked at him, his gaze sharp: "I only need a single undergarment, and it's so difficult?"

Ling Feng lowered his head even further, his voice hoarse: "Your Majesty... Your Majesty will go and inquire again later..."

Those evasive glances said it all.

As night fell, the Qianqing Palace was brightly lit, yet so quiet that one could hear the faint crackling of candle flames bursting.

Wei Jin sat alone at his desk, the faint sounds of string and wind instruments drifting in from outside the window—the music ensemble was rehearsing for the talent show.

The list of imperial concubines lay open before him, and Ling Zhan's neat, cold annotations stung his eyes.

He closed his eyes, not out of exhaustion, but to shut himself out of everything around him.

The cold words he uttered in Kunning Palace that day have now become the most real scene, not only pushing Ling Zhan further away, but also like an invisible decree, causing his precious children to step back and drawing a line between ruler and subject.

He hadn't thought about this when he made his move.

Every step he took backfired, ultimately leading to his demise on the lonely and isolated throne of the supreme ruler.

The oppressive atmosphere within the Zichen Palace continued to spread, like an invisible spiderweb, wrapping around the emperor seated on his throne. Wei Jin's pace in reviewing memorials slowed, his vermilion brush pausing several times. Finally, he abruptly slammed the brush onto the table with a sharp "crack," startling the palace servants standing in the hall, who all trembled, held their breath, and lowered their heads, daring not to make a sound.

He stood up, the hem of his black dragon robe making a sharp arc, and strode out of the hall.

"Your Majesty?" Wang Jin hurriedly followed, asking cautiously, "Where are you going..."

"Leave the palace." Wei Jin's voice was cold and hard, devoid of any emotion.

"But... Your Majesty, several ministers have requested an audience today regarding matters following the initial selection of the imperial concubines..."

"Let them wait." Wei Jin didn't stop walking and headed straight for the stables, without even ordering the carriage to be prepared.

Wang Jin dared not ask any more questions and could only jog to catch up, but her heart was in turmoil.

His Majesty's appearance doesn't suggest he's going for a relaxing trip; it seems more like... he's going to seek revenge?

Wei Jin personally led out his magnificent black horse, "Chasing the Night," mounted it, and with a spur of his horse, shot out of the palace gates like an arrow. Wang Jin and several guards hurriedly gave chase on horseback. The group sped through the bustling imperial street, causing passersby to scatter in alarm.

The destination was neither a prince's mansion nor a military camp on the outskirts of the capital, but a relatively quiet corner in the capital city—the "Anping Earl's Mansion".

Wei Jin suddenly pulled on the reins in front of the mansion gate.

With a neigh, the guards at the gate recognized the newcomer and hurriedly knelt down in fright.

Wei Jin dismounted, threw his whip to a guard, and pushed open the unguarded gate of the mansion.

The mansion was quieter than the palace, yet it exuded a down-to-earth atmosphere.

An old man who was sweeping his yard with a large broom suddenly looked up, paused for a moment, and then dropped the broom in delight:

"Master...Master?! Why are you back?!"

This is Liu Quan, the old steward of the Marquis of Anping's mansion.

He had followed Wei Jin since Linshan County, and even the scars on his face from their escape carried a friendly air about him.

Wei Jin ignored him and continued walking inside.

A man dressed in a silk robe, looking like an accountant, strode out of the side room upon hearing the noise, carrying an abacus. When he saw Wei Jin, his eyes lit up, and he blurted out, "Boss?!"

This is Manager Wang, who now manages the accounts of Wei Jin's numerous businesses.

Aunt Wang, who rushed over from the backyard upon hearing the news, still had flour on her apron. When she saw Wei Jin, she rubbed her hands on her apron, both surprised and delighted: "Oh my! Yan-ge'er is back! Haven't you eaten yet? Auntie will make you some noodles!"

There is no strict hierarchy of a royal palace here, only old buddies who have fought alongside him all the way, like family.

The pent-up frustration in Wei Jin's heart eased slightly amidst the familiar local accent and care, yet it only intensified his bittersweet feeling.

He hummed in response to everyone's greetings, and without stopping, walked straight towards the main hall of the courtyard.

He kicked open the hall door, stirring up a fine dust.

He walked to the main armchair, his fingers brushing against the smooth armrest, then suddenly turned around and roared at Liu Quan, Manager Wang, Aunt Wang, and the others who followed him in: "Uncle Quan! Go! Call all those grown-up brats in the house back here! Not a single one of them! Now! Immediately!"

He didn't use "朕" (the imperial "I"), but referred to himself as "老子" (Laozi), his voice hoarse, carrying the arrogant tone of a street thug leader.

Liu Quan was startled, but without hesitation, he exclaimed "Oh!" and turned to run off to give instructions.

"Manager Wang!" Wei Jin roared again.

"Yes, boss! What are your orders?"

"Go! Bring that woman from Kunning Palace back for me! Tell her I'm going to tear the house down! Let's see if she comes back!"

Manager Wang was shrewd and immediately understood the weight of the word "please," replying "Understood!" and went to do it himself.

"Aunt Wang!"

"Hey! Yan-ge'er, your aunt is here!"

"Get me something to eat! I'm starving! That heartless little bull won't even make me some soup!"

He plopped down, like a child going home to complain.

Aunt Wang's eyes reddened, and she nodded repeatedly: "Yes! Yes! Auntie will go right away! I'll make you your favorite noodles with minced meat sauce! Extra chili!"

As she spoke, she wiped away her tears and hurried to the kitchen.

His sudden return and the series of orders instantly brought the mansion to life, but also filled it with even greater tension.

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