Chapter 3

Upon hearing Sang Qingyun’s words, Consort Yuan could hardly conceal the joy swelling in her heart, a subtle curve forming on her lips.

If His Majesty were a man who indulged in beauty, he would have immediately inspected the painting scroll upon its arrival, eager to see if there were any beauties that pleased him. Yet, he had been so engrossed in state affairs for so long that he paid no heed to the new contestants, clearly showing indifference toward their arrival—treating it as something neither here nor there.

Sang Qingyun served close to His Majesty; she would never dare lie about such a matter.

No matter what the future held, at least for today, His Majesty was no more attentive to any other woman than to her, and no one stood closer to him than she did. With Sang Qingyun’s words, the morning’s accumulated gloom that Consort Yuan had borne finally dissipated, and she found herself smiling freely.

She reached out as if to steady herself, her tone gentle and soothing, “Qingyun, there’s no need to be nervous. Qianning is just a bit blunt by nature—you mustn’t take it to heart.” Then, turning sharply, she admonished Qianning, “I have warned you many times not to speak so bluntly and hurt others. If it happens again, I shall not be so lenient.”

Qianning hurriedly smiled and bowed to Sang Qingyun in apology, “Yes, yes, I spoke out of turn—please forgive your servant.”

Sang Qingyun lowered her head, smiling softly; the matter passed lightly.

She knew well that this interplay of sternness and leniency between mistress and servant was merely out of courtesy, mindful that she was a lady-in-waiting before the emperor. Although ladies-in-waiting held higher status than palace maids, they remained servants of the royal household; even when meeting the lowest-ranked attendants, they were required to greet with proper respect.

At that moment, the court eunuch stationed at the entrance of the Blossom Hall loudly announced the names and origins of the selected beauties, ordering them to line up and present themselves for the imperial audience.

This round of selections included eighty candidates: thirty from noble families and fifty commoners, arranged in ten rows of eight. After passing through ten rows, the process would conclude.

Consort Yuan’s spirits were lifted, and she grew eager to examine each one carefully. “Qingyun, look—the beauties have come forward already. Indeed, each is young and outstanding.”

Sang Qingyun, with no other choice, respectfully echoed her sentiments, following the consort’s gaze.

From her vantage point, she could just see the backs of eight beauties.

—

Before the Blossom Hall, the welcoming spring blooms flourished in full. The snow around the flower beds had mostly melted beneath the sun, painting a scene of clear springtime.

The first group of beauties approached in an orderly fashion from right to left, bowing in greeting and responding to His Majesty and the Empress’s inquiries.

These eight were deemed the most promising by the head tutor, indeed the most striking among the group, each possessing their own merits in beauty and poise.

Yet, the most beautiful was a commoner standing at the far end.

Unlike the others, whose expressions mixed excitement with nervousness, she bore a subtle, barely perceptible fear in her eyes. Her posture was stiff and unnatural, as if deliberately concealing something.

She had thought such a stance would go unnoticed among the crowd, but His Majesty, seated high on the dragon throne, saw through it instantly, as did the Empress.

Looking around during the selection was considered a grave offense. Seeing His Majesty’s displeasure, the Empress inquired, “Who is the beauty at the very end? What is her name and origin?”

Upon being named, she was startled but dared not conceal any longer. Hastily, she knelt and reported, “Your Majesty, Your Highness, I am Shang Nanshu from Anping County, Xiangzhou, seventeen years old, humbly presenting myself before Your Majesty and Your Highness.”

Though her actions were furtive, her manners were proper.

The Empress softened her expression, about to inquire further, when suddenly Shang Nanshu’s palace gown slipped down as she bowed, nearly exposing her body.

Shang Nanshu was mortified, quickly pressing the garment back in place. To be embarrassed so publicly before the emperor and empress, she blushed fiercely, tears threatening to spill.

This humiliation would forever be etched in her memory.

The palace gowns worn by the beauties during the selection were simple wrap dresses, pieced from one large fabric panel and held by ties. That morning, without access to candles, she had hastily dressed in the dark, only realizing her garment was loose when lining up to proceed.

But by then it was too late; she had to brave through, hoping to keep her movements small and gentle until the selection ended.

Unknown to her, the ties had been secretly cut. Though intact at first, any larger movement would cause them to snap.

—

Now, having committed a grave breach before the emperor, her prospects were bleak, and her life hung by a thread.

Clutching her chest, kneeling and weeping, Shang Nanshu pleaded, “Your Majesty, Your Highness, I did not intend to offend. I beg Your Majesty and Your Highness to forgive my disgrace before the court!”

The selection was a matter of national attention. Besides His Majesty and the Empress, many princes and nobles were present. If she claimed sabotage now, it would bring shame upon the royal family, truly a catastrophe. Thus, she bore all blame herself.

His Majesty lowered his gaze, watching her flustered state with indifference, not even bothering to command her to lift her head for a better look.

He found the commotion tiresome.

He issued a perfunctory decree, “Beauty Shang has committed a grave offense before the court. She shall be demoted to palace maid and forbidden from serving in the inner chambers.”

Such a breach was a serious crime; being reduced to palace maid was already an act of mercy.

Shang Nanshu wept in despair, “Your servant... thanks Your Majesty for your mercy.”

Two guards promptly escorted her away from the Blossom Hall.

With such an incident at the very start, the other beauties were thrown into turmoil—some panicked, some secretly pleased, others anxious. All seemed dull and uninteresting to His Majesty.

Though young and beautiful, these beauties were no different in essence from the imperial consorts.

Beauty that remained only skin-deep held no true allure.

As the sun moved southward, His Majesty bore with the process until all candidates had passed, selecting a few based on mere appearances.

When it concluded, he rose without hesitation, “Leave the rest to the Empress to arrange. My duties demand attention.”

With that, the imperial carriage soon made its way to the Blossom Hall’s entrance.

Near noon, the fleeting peach blossom snow of the previous day had completely melted.

Branches flourished, spring was at its peak, and the sky stretched vast and blue.

Surrounded by attendants, His Majesty took his seat in the carriage, then lifted his eyes indifferently.

Yet his gaze lingered only briefly before fixing upon a lone figure clad in blue.

On the Pavilion of Stars, Sang Qingyun stood alongside Consort Yuan, both watching in this direction.

Draped in flowing robes atop the high platform, she appeared serene and aloof, as if untouched by the world.

They had not expected His Majesty to emerge so early, and seeing him look upward startled them. They immediately bowed in respect.

Dai Zheng, walking beside His Majesty, guessed the reason and lightheartedly joked, “Your Majesty, I always knew Consort Yuan was gentle, but I did not realize she could be so possessive.”

His Majesty quickly withdrew his gaze, saying nothing but raised a hand with his usual tone, “Return to the Hall of Diligent Governance.”

The carriage moved on slowly, and Zhao Yuyan, quietly following behind, glanced thoughtfully at the Pavilion of Stars before turning away.

—

When Sang Qingyun returned to her quarters, Zhao Yuyan had already come back and sat sipping hot tea at the table. She looked up, speaking casually as if in ordinary conversation, “You had a rare day off today. Why did Consort Yuan seek you out? She didn’t trouble you, did she?”

Though speaking lightly, Zhao Yuyan’s heart was tinged with bitterness.

Both were ladies-in-waiting close to the emperor, both favored by him. Yet Zhao Yuyan, niece to Dowager Zhao, should by rights be the one favored by Consort Yuan.

But in the palace, whether emperor, consorts, or even servants and eunuchs, whenever they spoke of ladies-in-waiting, it was always Sang Qingyun’s name first, not Zhao Yuyan’s. Over time, such disparities naturally bred resentment.

Especially regarding His Majesty—

She often felt he treated Sang Qingyun with a special regard.

Yet, upon closer inspection, this special treatment was nothing extraordinary, often leaving her suspicious and plagued by doubts.

Fueled by jealousy and dissatisfaction, she watched Sang Qingyun’s every move with heightened attention.

“Consort Yuan is kind, only making idle remarks,” Sang Qingyun deftly dismissed the subject, then gently asked, “Why have you returned so early? Shouldn’t you be on duty until after the evening meal?”

Lowering her eyes, Zhao Yuyan smiled softly, her expression tinged with delicate femininity, “His Majesty said I worked hard today and need not attend him further. He told me to rest earlier.”

“He also said that once you return, you should serve in the Hall of Diligent Governance. The emperor’s presence demands no absence.”

“I see, thank you for letting me know. I will go serve immediately. You should rest well,” Sang Qingyun replied politely, bowing before leaving without even changing her clothes.

Years of cautious survival had honed her instincts; she disliked speaking too much with someone of Zhao Yuyan’s status.

Among the eight ladies-in-waiting, only these two served His Majesty’s tea directly. Sang Qingyun knew Dowager Zhao had placed Zhao Yuyan in the palace not merely for prestige but with the hope she might gain the emperor’s favor early and be granted a consort’s rank—far easier than enduring the slow climb through the selection process.

If His Majesty did not favor her, she could at least return home honorably to marry, a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Zhao Yuyan came from noble lineage with powerful backing, unlike Sang Qingyun, who was alone and vulnerable.

Approaching the side entrance of the Hall of Diligent Governance, Sang Qingyun happened upon Dai Zheng, who was leaving with a fly whisk, his face beaming.

“Eunuch, any good news? You look so cheerful today.”

Dai Zheng chuckled, “For servants like us, as long as His Majesty is pleased, life is good, isn’t it? Just now, His Majesty gifted Consort Yuan a sandalwood fan, exquisitely carved with a subtle fragrance—truly a rare treasure.”

“The selection ended today, and in three days the new beauties will formally enter the palace. I suspect His Majesty gave the gift to ease Consort Yuan’s worries. Who else would have such a thoughtful heart?”

With that, he said, “I must deliver the gift myself, so I’ll take my leave.”

Sang Qingyun smiled in agreement, “His Majesty truly cherishes Consort Yuan above all.”

Dai Zheng happily went to present the gift, but Sang Qingyun’s smile gradually faded.

A fan given in early spring was no mere gift.

It was a timely reminder to Consort Yuan that she was out of place.

Today, not only Consort Yuan was on the Pavilion of Stars—where was she? And how did His Majesty intend to deal with her?

Quietly, Sang Qingyun stepped into the Hall of Diligent Governance, intending first to seek His Majesty’s pardon.

Before she could bow, His Majesty looked up and said, “Come here.”