Chapter 1: Rainfall

Chapter 1: Rainfall

A deluge poured from the heavens, with massive raindrops cascading down and cleansing the green-brick pathways of all dust. The lantern hanging by the side gate swayed in the bitter wind and rain, casting a faint, fist-sized glow through its parchment shade, illuminating the ground in a hazy yellow blur. The eunuchs standing guard by the wall gate had their eyes lowered beneath the light, their state - whether awake or dozing - indiscernible.

The wet bricks seemed coated in oil, treacherous underfoot. A pair of hands emerged promptly to steady an elbow as a foot slipped, a soft voice whispering, "Your Highness, take care, the ground is slippery."

This was the only sound amidst the rain and the chill of the world. Empress Mi'eng finally turned her gaze, "I suppose the Empress is no longer capable?"

The Empress had been ill for too long; she had, in truth, been ineffective for a while. Life and death were but a door that could be opened at any moment, a transition requiring no effort.

Nanny Shan cast a glance back at the Cining Palace. "Though the Empress Dowager has not explicitly stated it, the current discussion on who shall oversee the Six Palaces hints at elevating a Consort to Imperial Noble Consort. With the incident concerning the Empress, there are now numerous decisions to be made, from grand matters like funeral rites to trivial details such as the arrangement of mourning periods. The Empress Dowager, with her devout Buddhist heart, concerns herself only with the vegetarian meals and nothing else. As for the Grand Empress Dowager, Her Venerable Self, despite her age, might inquire about the affairs of the younger generation out of respect for His Majesty, but the sheer complexity of these tasks could weary her spirits."

"Empress Concubine..." Venerable Consort Min deliberated for a moment before forcing the three words out between her teeth. After a while, she asked, "What do you suppose the Emperor is thinking?"

The rain pounded against the umbrella, creating a loud rumble. Nurse Shan shook her head amidst the deafening downpour. "I doubt that's his intention. With the imperial concubine being promoted to Empress now, once the mourning period for the late empress ends next year, she'll ascend to the throne. The Emperor is a man of great strategy. If he were to elevate someone he's pleased with, they'd inevitably become a target for resentment in the harem. But if he chooses someone he's not content with, there might be discord between the emperor and empress in the future. It's better to leave the position of empress vacant for the time being."

"Impossible," said Noble Consort Gu. "A country cannot be without a queen for a single day. Even if one feels uneasy, the ancestral rituals and laws must be respected."

Aunt Shen supported her, guiding her step by step along the straight pathway. Earlier, the rain had been so heavy that the splashing droplets leaped higher than the soles of their shoes, dampening the hems of their robes. Now, the fierce rain had eased, transforming into fleeting ripples underfoot that swiftly drained away into the lower grounds on either side.

Nanny Shan replied, "His Majesty has his own considerations. When the matter of managing the six palaces was mentioned previously, as soon as the topic arose, His Majesty bowed to the Empress Dowager and asked for her temporary assistance. The Empress Dowager had never been involved in such matters; she nearly choked on a piece of creamy cake."

Consort Mian smiled, recalling that the Empress Dowager was indeed a carefree person. Back when they were both in the previous emperor's harem, none of them were favored. After the former empress passed away, the Empress Dowager was brought in to fill the gap. She wasn't the emperor's birth mother, but with her ability to eat and sleep soundly without holding grudges, and having raised the emperor, she became his nominal mother. One's background is still crucial. The Empress Dowager is the niece of the Grand Empress Dowager, and her current position ultimately relies on her family's influence.

"You say…" Consort Mian turned her head to look at Nanny Shan, "If they choose another empress, who could have such fortune?"

Nanny Shan, a clever woman, chose to say what her mistress liked to hear. She chuckled and said, "In this servant's humble opinion, our Lord's daughter stands out above all the other young ladies. If Your Highness recommends her again, the Old Buddha will surely see your favor, even if she doesn't become empress, being elevated to a princess is not out of the question."

Consort Mian's expression remained indifferent, as if this answer didn't bring her any joy. She moved slowly, her hand holding the bodhi beads that gently tapped against her robe, making a soft rustling sound. "This palace is like a well. Once you enter, you can't expect to climb out. But if you don't come in, you miss out on glory. It doesn't matter if you weep at the bottom of the well; after all, no one will see you anyway."

This was a realization gained from being trapped in a gilded cage of wealth and status for over two decades. If given the chance to do it all again, would she still tread the same path? Most likely, yes. The women within the Forbidden City never breathed for themselves. In the beginning, they lived for their families, then, upon receiving the Emperor's favor and bearing children, they lived for their offspring. Empress Dowager Guan had no children. Once, the third prince was placed under her care, but in the end, he tragically passed away. Her affinity with children was shallow; with nowhere else to direct her maternal love, she supported and cared for her nieces and nephews, hoping they could be companions for her within the palace.

As the rain gradually ceased, the dusk saw every corner of the Forbidden City echo with the mournful, drawn-out tones of door hinges creaking. Eunuchs from the Imperial Household Department stood before the Qianqing Gate, lanterns in hand, calling out, "Lords, it's time for the daily allowance!"

The guards conveyed the message in all directions, "The gates are closing."

The steady beat of wooden blocks sounded, and an old eunuch, accompanied by his apprentice, walked down the East First Long Street. Under the dim moonlight, he repeated in a drawn-out tone, "Time for the allowance, mind the lamps..."

This grand ceremony of transition occurred daily without fail, always punctual and precise.

The Imperial Noble Consort was an old figure in the palace and, since she was following the Empress Dowager's orders to discuss matters, she did not hurry along like the other palace women upon hearing the closing of the palace gates. She continued at her leisurely pace, strolling through the Yongkang Left Gate. Beyond that gate and across the Longzhong Gate was the Office of Military Matters. From an oblique angle, one could glimpse the iron plaque that read "Consorts must not meddle in politics."

She suddenly stopped, motionless. Ama Shan, puzzled, whispered, "What's wrong, Your Highness?"

The Imperial Noble Consort made a gesture for silence. "Listen..."

Upon careful listening, there was a faint wailing carried by the wind, sending shivers down their spines—could it be coming from the Zhongcui Palace? But upon further scrutiny, it didn't seem so. The Delicate Imperial Noble Consort looked up at the direction of the swaying branches and leaves. Due to the late frost this year, the wind blowing was from the west. Someone must be weeping and begging for an audience with the Emperor at the Xihua Gate.

There were rules within the palace walls. Once the gates were closed, they would only be reopened for significant emergencies such as a fire. The Delicate Imperial Noble Consort listened to the intermittent cries of "Your Highness... I beg for an audience," and sighed wistfully. Relationships within the royal family were often thin. The Emperor's distant attitude towards the Empress was a clear example, as his detachment was palpable.

News of Concubine Xue kneeling at the Xihua Gate came to an end before the Empress's passing. As dawn approached, the city echoed with funeral bells, each toll reverberating in a mournful echo.

The curtains of the bed were raised high, and Yingming stood barefoot on the footrest, still in a daze. Gazing at the dim sky beyond the lattice door, she asked, "What happened?"

The Secondary Consort entered from outside, having already removed the tassels from her hair. As she instructed her maidservants to help her change into mourning attire, she said, "The Empress has passed away. Your father received an order from the Office of Military Matters to attend to the funeral arrangements at the fourth watch of the night. I saw you sleeping and didn't want to disturb you."

It was still chilly in early spring, and the cold seemed to seep into her like water. Yingming wrapped her arms around herself, feeling uneasy and adrift. "I visited her the day before yesterday, and she seemed to be in good spirits. How could she just be gone..."

In truth, there had been signs. In her recent visits, the Empress had become alarmingly thin.

Yingming and the Empress had been bosom friends for over a decade, as their fathers were both co-regents, allowing them to grow up virtually side by side. The Empress was two years older and taught Yingming how to sew, catch butterflies, and fly kites. Their childhood bond did not fade when the Empress entered the Forbidden City. If not for Yingming's young age that year, she would have accompanied her friend. Subsequent beauty pageants held no anticipation compared to the first, and with her father losing interest, he devised an excuse of illness to spare her from participating.

Yingming had planned to visit the palace whenever the Empress missed her, but she hadn't expected it to happen so soon... She had just turned twenty in July.

"I promised her that on this year's Double Ninth Festival, I would come to the palace to stay with her for two days..."

The tragic news came too abruptly, initially feeling unrelated to her. The Empress was merely a symbol within the Forbidden City, holding no personal significance. It wasn't until she realized her best friend was gone that the pain pierced her heart with excruciating precision, leaving her bent over in sorrow.

Seeing Yingming's pale face, the secondary consort rushed to her side, "Ying'er, I know how close you were to the Empress. Your loyalty will be remembered by her. Don't dwell on it. Once someone passes to the underworld, they forget the bonds of the living world. Your grief won't reach her." She then sighed, "I heard that Lady Fu of Duke Xue tried to enter the palace through the West Hart Gate at night when she sensed something was wrong, but the guards, following strict rules, refused to pass on her message. It was only after the Grand Empress Dowager received word that she was granted permission to see the Empress for one last time."

Listening, Yingming felt a greater wave of sorrow wash over her. The guards hadn't refused to convey the message; they had clearly been ordered not to allow it.

She recalled the day before the previous summer solstice when the Empress summoned her to the palace. Following the eunuch, she entered the Zhongcui Palace. The Empress, lounging on a cloud-like couch, smiled and said, "Forgive me for not greeting you properly. Lately, I've been quite lazy and can't figure out why."

Yingming bowed respectfully, "Your servant greets the Empress."

The Empress raised her hand, calling "Yi Li," and her attendants helped Yingming approach. Holding her hand, the Empress said, "Yingming, I'm trapped within these four walls, like a bird with broken wings, unable to escape. Though I'm dressed in fine clothes and live at the heart of the imperial city, everyone pays me lip service, addressing me as 'Empress.' In reality, I have nothing. No one is close to me, no one cares for me. They all wish for my early death, even the Grand Empress Dowager and the Emperor."

Though Yingming understood, she still tried to reassure her friend, "You are the Empress, the mother of our nation. Nobody wishes for your demise."

The Empress shook her head. "In their hearts, I deserve to die a hundred times over. I don't blame them. It's all my father's fault for sending me to the palace. He believed that by doing so, he could influence the Emperor, and if I were to give birth to a son, half the kingdom would bear the surname Xue."

Before Yingming, the Empress never hid her feelings, for others couldn't comprehend her struggles, but Yingming did.

This story was a long one. The previous emperor had passed away in his prime, and the current emperor ascended the throne at a young age. With imperial uncles and powerful ministers vying for power, it was no easy task to stabilize the throne. During those perilous times, it was fortunate that loyalists from the late emperor's faction, led by the first-class prince and grand minister Duo Zeng, preserved the royal authority and supported the young emperor through the toughest years. However, ambition often grew with the grasp of real power. As Duo Zeng aged, Na Xin, Yingming's father, adopted a neutral stance, and eventually, Xue Shangzhang, with his impressive military achievements, became the leading regent.

It was expected that daughters from the families of the old guards would enter the palace to serve the Emperor. Thus, Xue effortlessly ascended to the position of empress. Unfortunately, this Empress was not a popular choice; rather, she was a compromise and a symbol of endurance, both for herself and for the emperor.

Smiling, the Empress shared with Yingming, "There's an unwritten rule in the palace: when an unpopular empress is to be married, the ceremony will always take place during her menstrual cycle."

Yingming, an unmarried young lady, asked with wide-eyed astonishment, "Why is that so?"

The Empress gently patted her pillow as if discussing someone else's story. "On the night of the grand wedding, it's inconvenient for a woman due to her monthly cycle. How can the emperor and empress consummate their marriage? If the first step isn't taken properly, everything afterward won't proceed smoothly. Let me tell you the truth, the Emperor hasn't even touched me up until now. My father still dreams of becoming the grandfather of the emperor."

Yingming was speechless. After a moment, she pounded the edge of the couch in indignation. "How can this be? Isn't this just wasting your time!"

Lying on her pillow, the Empress's once sparkling eyes were now veiled with dust. She murmured, "I am nothing – neither cherished by my father nor loved by my husband... I don't know what I've done wrong. Perhaps my existence in this world is just a journey of self-improvement."

Indeed, she had done nothing wrong. Now that her period of self-improvement was over, she could spread her wings and fly out of her cage, venturing into a broader horizon.

The secondary consort continued her monologue: "Your father has been confused his entire life, but there's one thing he understands clearly: not allowing you to enter the palace. Even though you weren't born to the primary consort, I won't mistreat you. Since we've passed the age of imperial selection, once the national mourning period is over, we'll proceed with your marriage to the Hai family."

The Hai family had once been aristocrats closely tied to the royal family, but their titles were not irrevocable like those of the iron-cap princes; they had descended through generations, and now they were merely Generals in charge of Pacifying the Nation. Though their rank wasn't particularly high, their family wealth was substantial. When parents chose a husband for their daughter, practicality was the top priority. A good man shouldn't rely on his ancestors' titles; he should earn his own rank and have the potential for promotion in the future.

Yingming had no heart for such thoughts at the moment. She said weakly, "Grandmother, please stop talking, my head feels like it's about to burst."

Seeing that she was unwell, the secondary consort came closer to touch her forehead and found it burning hot once again. She promptly called for Lu Ge and Songe to undress Yingming and help her lie down.

"You can't afford to fall ill now. There will be memorial ceremonies for the late Empress, and our family is still connected by a blood relationship with the Xue family. You need to visit their residence to show respect, or people might say we're being disrespectful and treating them as if they don't matter after the Empress's passing," the secondary consort instructed fussily.

Yingming closed her eyes, the vivid image of his face continually hovering before her. She pulled the quilt over herself, hiding her tears beneath its cover.

Author's Note: ① Shàn Cì: In ancient times, when people were mourning, they would sleep on straw mats at night, using bricks as pillows, and lie beside the coffin with their clothes on. This practice was called "Shàn Cì," colloquially known as "sleeping at the foot of the coffin."

②Fire outbreak: Refers to a fire incident.