Chapter 146 Her Absence

Chapter 146: Her Absence

A Moment of Clarity [Revised, recommended to reread]

With this matter concluded, Su Jiaojiao had no desire to linger in Fengyi Palace any longer.

Her face cold, she rose to her feet and said, "Since His Majesty has already decreed the punishment, I shall accept it and will not disturb Her Majesty any further."

The moment she stood, a wave of dizziness hit her.

The tension in her mind finally gave way. Her vision blurred, and a thin layer of sweat broke out across her body.

Yu Ying hurriedly supported her, crying out in alarm, "My Lady!"

Seeing her mistress faint, Ling Xiao also struggled free from the palace servants still restraining her and rushed forward to grasp Su Jiaojiao’s other arm.

The two exchanged a glance before hastily helping her out of the hall.

The Empress watched their departure deep in thought.

Beauty Xiao huffed impatiently. "Your Majesty simply let them leave like that? It’s way too easy on them! And His Majesty—just to smooth things over, he didn’t even punish them severely."

Hearing her relentless tone, the Empress frowned and said, "Beauty Xiao, I know how to deal with Ling Xiao. You have to know when to let go. Pressing further would only make His Majesty think this Empress is incapable of tolerance—not worth the backlash."

She cast a faint glance at Beauty Xiao before adding, "Moreover, you’ve always been at odds with Consort Zhen, and she holds a higher rank. You’d better watch your step in many matters and avoid stirring up further trouble."

Her words held a hidden threat. Beauty Xiao, initially defiant, grew uneasy upon hearing this and stammered for a long moment before lowering her head and saying, "Yes, this concubine understands."

The Empress withdrew her gaze and scanned the room, collecting herself before speaking warmly, "With less than two months until the New Year, I won’t tolerate any more trouble. The affairs of the inner court are many, and with my authority restored, there is much to oversee. For now, all of you should rest well and try to come up with something clever—for the New Year’s banquet, I’ll put in a good word for you with His Majesty."

With that, she turned to Noble Lady Xiang and smiled kindly. "Noble Lady Xiang, ever since you bore the Second Prince, you’ve rarely ventured out, let alone sought His Majesty’s favor. While imperial heirs are important, without continued favor, remaining in the rank of Noble Lady will only hinder the prince’s prospects."

"You are clever—I need not say more."

Noble Lady Xiang tensed and bowed in acknowledgment.

After giving a few pointers to Beauty Yu and Junior Attendant Miao, she dismissed them all.

Once everyone had left, the Empress summoned Yu He and inquired about Consort Yu’s recent condition.

She then handed Yu He a prepared tray, instructing her to deliver it personally.

Yu He hesitated, glancing at the contents of the tray. "Your Majesty, this is—"

The Empress gave a faint nod, and only then did Yu He carry it out.

Su Jiaojiao’s illness lasted over half a month. Other than basic needs, she never once stepped beyond the gates of Yaoxian Palace.

Imperial Physician Liu prescribed medicine, emphasizing strict adherence to dosage and timing. Yu Ying and the others panicked, taking turns to attend to her.

Yaoxian Palace lacked many things, and Su Jiaojiao, in her weakened state, could not endure the cold. Fortunately, Noble Consort Shu learned of her illness and marched into the Palace Office, demanding plenty of high-grade charcoal for warmth and ensuring the underfloor heating was lit.

Noble Consort Lan also sent gifts upon hearing the news, while Talent Lady Ji and Noble Lady Xiang secretly contributed much as well. Thus, they’d make it through winter.

Su Jiaojiao’s seventeenth birthday passed in illness, but she was fortunate to have her close companions by her side. Coincidentally, it was the first day after her seven days of reflection, and Noble Consort Shu and Noble Consort Lan came to visit.

Though it was nothing like the grandeur of her sixteenth birthday, Su Jiaojiao was content.

At her lowest, even as outsiders wanted her gone, those closest to her still cared for and cherished her—and that was more than enough.

Noble Consort Shu brought her several newly made winter outfits, each one lavish and exquisite. Yu Ye and Yu Ying, along with others, whipped up a feast in the small kitchen, while Noble Consort Lan sent many new books to help pass the time.

These days were peaceful and calm, and for the first time, Su Jiaojiao considered the idea that perhaps it wasn’t so bad to stop competing.

All she had ever sought was a peaceful and stable life. If she could attain it without contention, then even if she never regained favor in this lifetime, what did it matter?

Alas, it remained nothing more than a pipe dream.

After the turmoil, Su Jiaojiao finally enjoyed a stretch of peace and quiet.

As winter deepened, the cold intensified, and Chang’an saw intermittent snowfall two or three times.

Before long, New Year’s Eve arrived.

On this joyous occasion, the entire palace was alive with celebration.

Yao Xian Palace was adorned with paper window cutouts, all crafted by the palace servants together with Su Jiaojiao, lending a festive air.

Inside the hall, Su Jiaojiao, snug under a blanket, lounged on the couch playing chess with Noble Consort Shu. So engrossed was she that she didn’t even notice when the blanket slipped down to her waist. Fortunately, the heated floors and silver charcoal kept the room so warm that even wearing just a thin robe was enough to stay comfortable.

Yu Ying, however, grew anxious at the sight of the fallen blanket and hurried over to drape it back over her, chiding gently, “Your Highness, be careful. You’ve only just recovered from your illness—don’t catch another chill.”

Su Jiaojiao smiled, her eyes curving. “I’m hardly that delicate.”

Noble Consort Shu, wholly focused on the chessboard, set down a piece with a *clack*. Su Jiaojiao immediately laughed and placed her black piece, her voice honeyed. “Sister, you’ve lost.”

Taking in her delighted expression, Noble Consort Shu pretended to sigh and pushed the board away. “No more, no more. You’ve even beaten His Majesty—how could my mediocre skills compete? Noble Consort Shu, Noble Consort Shu—truly living up to the ‘Shu’ (lose) in my title.”

At the mention of His Majesty, Su Jiaojiao’s expression dimmed briefly, but she shook it off just as fast and joked, “This title is something others covet, yet you find it unlucky?”

She reached for Noble Consort Shu’s hand with a smile. “But today is New Year’s Eve—how can we have bad luck? Want me to go easy?”

“I’d probably still lose—I won’t fall for that.” Noble Consort Shu arched a brow in amusement, waving for the board to be taken away.

After a moment’s hesitation, she brought it up. “Today *is* New Year’s Eve.”

Su Jiaojiao’s smile faded slightly as she lowered her lashes and picked up a pastry to nibble.

“I know what you’re worried about,” she said softly. “But with the Empress hogging all the favor and His Majesty’s disdain for me, there’s little I can do.”

Noble Consort Shu frowned. “But what about Lord Su—”

“I was never his favorite. Being the official first daughter was just a title.” Su Jiaojiao paused. “Now that it’s the end of the year, he’ll naturally celebrate with his family in the Su residence. With the Madam by his side, he’s even less likely to mention me.”

“Besides, the closer a minister is to the Emperor, the less he should interfere in harem affairs. Su Chang is far too clever to risk displeasing His Majesty for my sake.”

In Su Jiaojiao’s eyes, Su Chang had never been close to her. She had rarely seen him growing up, living instead under the rule of her stepmother.

Though officially the first daughter, her life in private had been worse than that of a concubine’s daughter.

The so-called bond between father and daughter was something Su Jiaojiao had scarcely experienced—save for a few hazy childhood fragments, the rest was a void.

At her peak, their alliance had been strong, and the Madam had held her tongue. But now, her fall from grace was common knowledge.

Without value, she could no longer command the same regard as before.

Thus, it was only natural that Su Chang had not reached out to her since her return from the autumn hunt, let alone petitioned the Emperor on behalf of his disgraced daughter.

The Su manor was no safe haven.

On the same day, in Tai Chi Hall.

Shen Huai finished reviewing a batch of petitions and leaned back, rubbing his temples.

Though the court was in recess for the New Year holiday, the number of petitions had only increased, each requiring his personal decision. He pressed his fingers against his throbbing temples, the slight pain from his brow bone alleviating the dizziness and exhaustion.

When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell upon the wall where a painting of ink bamboo now hung.

This spot had once displayed the Moonlit Beauty painting he had personally created for Su Jiaojiao. By now, it had been removed by Cai Shan for several months.

Two months had passed since their heated quarrel in the plum grove. Apart from the occasional tidbit about her from Cai Shan or the palace servants of Tai Chi Hall, she had disappeared into silence, as if evaporated from the harem.

The palace was both vast and small.

But when one deliberately avoided another, it truly became possible never to meet again.

Shen Huai hated his uncontrollable love for Su Jiaojiao and loathed her even more for her heartlessness.

Yet as time passed without seeing her, his hatred and resentment waned, while his love and longing grew ever clearer.

He had to admit—he desperately wanted to see her.

But his pride would not allow him to humiliate himself again and again.

In the quiet, Cai Shan softly knocked on the door: "Your Majesty, Su Chang has arrived."

Shen Huai took a deep breath, stood, and replied in a low voice, "Send him in."

The New Year recess might seem like the most relaxed time for the entire nation, yet it was precisely during such periods that political upheavals were most likely to occur. The imperial examination reforms for commoners had reached their final stages—one last push, and the entire system could be transformed.

He met Su Chang in the front hall of Tai Chi Hall to discuss state affairs. An hour later, their discussion concluded.

Exhausted, Shen Huai flicked his sleeve, signaling for Su Chang to be escorted out. Yet Su Chang remained standing in the hall, making no move to leave. Instead, he lifted his gaze to the Emperor.

"Your Majesty."

With official matters concluded and Su Chang being always proper, a single glance was enough for Shen Huai to understand the implication behind his words.

He turned back and resumed his seat on the throne, his voice icy as he regarded Su Chang. "What other matters does your servant wish to discuss?"

Su Chang met the Emperor's gaze steadily, bowed, and then spoke. "Today is New Year's Eve. Your servant wishes to inquire about Consort Zhen’s well-being in the palace."

"I heard she fell ill some time ago. Has Your Majesty visited her? Has she fully recovered?"

Shen Huai looked at Su Chang and paused briefly before replying indifferently, "Consort Zhen has already recovered. There's no need for concern."

Su Chang kowtowed, his voice tinged with a father’s melancholy. "If Consort Zhen has recovered, then this minister’s heart is at ease. However, I have recently heard some rumors. Though they may be unfounded, as a father, I cannot help but worry for her. After much deliberation, I venture to ask Your Majesty today."

He raised his head and knelt, saying, "In the past, I once petitioned Your Majesty regarding Consort Zhen. I know that as an official, I should not interfere in the affairs of the harem. But my hope remains unchanged—I only beg Your Majesty to be merciful toward her. If she errs, I pray that in consideration of my years of loyal service to the empire, she may be treated with mercy, so she will not be abandoned and helpless in the palace."

"I beseech Your Majesty—"

"To grant this request."

As Shen Huai watched Su Chang kowtow on behalf of his daughter, he was suddenly reminded of a similar request the man had made eighteen months ago.

At that time, Su Jiaojiao was still his Consort Lian—gentle, obedient, delicate, and endearing.

Su Chang, as a trusted minister, naturally agreed without hesitation.

Alas.

People change with time, and all illusions must one day shatter.

Yet, out of deep paternal love, Su Chang pleaded for her twice before the throne. Even if Shen Huai privately wished never to see Su Jiaojiao again, he could not afford to turn away his ministers.

"A father's love for his child is always far-reaching. I understand your fatherly heart, Minister Su," Shen Huai said, stepping forward to personally help Su Chang rise, his voice gentle. "Rise."

With the emperor's reassurance, the weight in Su Chang's heart finally lifted.

After expressing his gratitude once more, he was escorted out by Cai Shan.

Standing in the great hall, Shen Huai gazed outside—the sky was gray, snow fell silently—a desolate vista.

When Cai Shan returned from seeing Su Chang off, he hurried inside with a smile and announced, "Your Majesty, Prince Xuan [Xuan meaning 'mystical/profound'] has arrived in Chang'an and requests an audience."

Shen Huai turned, a hint of joy flashing in his eyes. "Summon him."

After their meeting at the summer retreat, Prince Xuan had ultimately left Chang'an, wandering freely with his wife.

Though he had insisted on living as a commoner, Shen Huai had kept his princely title, only relieving him of court duties while permitting him to visit the palace at any time.

Word of Prince Xuan's return to Chang'an had arrived half a month prior, but Shen Huai hadn't expected him to arrive precisely on New Year's Eve—just in time to join the Imperial New Year's banquet.

Before long, Shen Zhang entered the hall, his brows lifting in a warm smile. "Brother Emperor."

Shen Huai rose to greet him, clapping his shoulder with a grin. "Why hasn't your wife come with you?"

Shen Zhang smiled tenderly. "She is carrying our child. My mother-in-law was beside herself and insisted she rest at home, so I came alone."

"Carrying a child?" Shen Huai was surprised—it had only been half a year.

But this was joyous news, and he shared in the happiness. "She should rest during pregnancy—it's only right. But this means you'll have to stay in Chang'an for now."

Shen Zhang shook his head with a laugh. "After the New Year, I'll take her south of the Yangtze. I've prepared a residence in a tranquil waterside town—she adores it."

Watching Shen Zhang's blissful expression, Shen Huai felt an inexplicable pang in his chest, as if something unspoken had been stirred.

When Shen Zhang had first decided to leave Chang'an, everyone had dismissed it as a fool's dream, believing him led astray by a woman.

Yet now, their household would soon grow, and the tenderness in his eyes whenever he spoke of his wife spoke volumes of his happiness—even as a simple commoner.

Suddenly, Shen Huai thought of Su Jiaojiao. What if she'd carried his child? Would things have—

His fist clenched abruptly, a flash of anguish and ire crossing his face.

Shen Zhang seemed to notice the emperor's shift and jested carefully, "Has Brother Emperor also met a woman who's captured your heart?"

Recalling the rumors he'd heard in the streets after leaving Chang'an, he added casually, "Could it be Consort Zhen [Su Jiaojiao's former title]?"

To his surprise, the mention of Su Jiaojiao instantly darkened Shen Huai's expression, his voice turning cold. "Just a fleeting fancy long past. How could I possibly care for a woman like her?"

His protests only made it clearer. Yet Shen Zhang was startled by the emperor's reaction.

This isn’t just attraction—it’s something deeper.

It cuts much deeper.

Yet he grows increasingly curious—what kind of woman could move the heart of an emperor like his elder brother, who has always been cold and detached toward women, even scornful of love? Just who is this Consort Zhen?

Gossip in the capital says that Consort Zhen dwarfs all others in beauty, a once-in-a-generation beauty, which explains her unrivaled favor.

But Shen Zhang knows the harem has never lacked beautiful women. For Consort Zhen to rise above the rest so clearly, she must possess something extraordinary.

However, judging by His Majesty’s current demeanor, it seems their relationship is far from smooth.

The emperor appears head over heels but left wanting, though it was once said that Consort Zhen had the emperor practically to herself—

If they truly admired each other, how could things have come to this?

Unless... Consort Zhen does not return His Majesty’s feelings, and something has already transpired between them.

Walking a mile in her slippers, Shen Zhang can guess at the reasons.

The imperial family.

To many, it represents the height of prestige.

And the throne, the Son of Heaven, is even more so.

Atop the world, holding absolute power—countless women dream of entering the harem to win imperial favor.

Yet among the dozens of Imperial Consorts, how many of those Beauties never get what they truly want?

He has no doubt that there are still women like his wife in this world, who’d rather not fight for scraps of attention.

What they seek and cherish is simply one man’s undivided love.

Though Shen Zhang cannot be certain whether Consort Zhen is such a person, in the harem’s circumstances, falling in love with an emperor who has countless Imperial Consorts is itself a losing game.

Seeing His Majesty’s somber mood, he does not press the topic further. Instead, he gently shifts the conversation: "Does Your Majesty still remember why I insisted on becoming an ordinary man?"

"Many things, I once did not understand."

"But compared to status and position, I cared more about loving her right. So much of what was once incomprehensible, when seen from her perspective, became clear with time."

Shen Zhang’s smile is natural and bright, as if merely sharing his hard-won wisdom: "In this world, women hold little power, never able to control their own fate. The most precious thing they possess is their own heart. Thus, every guarded moment, every hesitation, is but a means to protect themselves."

"I once didn’t understand why my wife was so stubborn, preferring a free but lonely life over even half a step into the palace or noble mansions. But after coming to understand, I realized how narrow my view had been."

Shen Zhang’s tone is gentle, recounting his reflections in a measured manner.

Yet these words ignite fresh turmoil in Shen Huai’s heart.

His pupils dilate unnaturally as he suddenly recalls the night of the First Snow Banquet, with Su Jiaojiao in the plum grove.

She had been trapped in his arms, unable to move, her neck so delicate he feared he’d break it with the slightest pressure.

Yet her expression had been resolute and unyielding, coldly asking him why, even after he had told her to drop the formal ‘Your Majesty,’ she had never changed her manner of speech.

Telling him he had dozens of Imperial Consorts, and she was just another face in the crowd.

Saying men always chase the next shiny thing, and that beautiful women are a dime a dozen to him.

She said she couldn't afford to lose, unwilling to stake her heart on an emperor who possessed a harem of three palaces and six courts.

She said from beginning to end, all she wanted was to live a slightly better life, with no mood for flowery romance—

Her desires were so simple: merely to secure her footing in this imperial harem filled with innumerable consorts, where no one would dare bully her.

Yet precisely because his harem was too full, this modest wish had become painfully unattainable.

The moment he recalled Su Jiaojiao's feverish, ill state after returning to the palace, Shen Huai's carefully maintained icy demeanor shattered under an unexpected, dull ache—as if a hand were wringing his heart with pain.

No wonder. Su Jiaojiao, like Shen Zhang's wife, was exceedingly careful with her heart, unwilling to love him.

She was right.

She was his imperial consort. Between them, she had always been the vulnerable one. Even the very fabric of existence, life and death, hung on his merest whim.

So even if it meant death, Su Jiaojiao refused to love him—because she had never been willing to trust him, never willing to believe that this capricious emperor had adored her alone from start to finish.

Shen Zhang had willingly become an ordinary man to reassure his wife, yet he—Shen Huai—had presumptuously believed that just because he treated her so well, she was obligated to love him.

To think he had taken this for granted… He had been wrong.

Shen Huai thought of his mother, who had devoted her entire heart to his father, only for the emperor to grow weary after a few short years, transferring his affections to Consort Rou while allowing his mother to be bullied and falsely accused.

Now, everything he had done to Su Jiaojiao—his ridiculous notion to bestow all his favor upon the empress—must have seemed, in Su Jiaojiao's eyes, no different from the disgusting behavior of his despicable father.

These overwhelming thoughts flooded Shen Huai's mind, his chest tightening and aching in waves, his thoughts tangled into a chaotic mess, clouding his judgment.

Shen Huai gripped the edge of the table so hard his fingertips turned white, his eyes stormy with turmoil.

Countless disordered thoughts clamored in his mind, leaving him in unendurable chaos, desperate for clarity, for an escape.

Suddenly, he remembered the hidden painting of the beauty under moonlight, and an obsession seized him—he had to see it, right now.

Shen Huai strode to the side chamber, rummaging through stored scrolls one by one.

But after turning the entire chamber upside down, with scrolls strewn across the floor, he still found no trace of her.

"Cai Shan!"

Shen Zhang, witnessing this, smiled faintly, knowing his words might have awakened something in the emperor, and quietly slipped away.

The sun dipped westward, and palace lanterns gradually illuminated.

At last, candles were finally lit in the Taiji Hall.

Shen Huai finally retrieved the painting from Cai Shan's hands. He rehung Su Jiaojiao's portrait on the wall, staring at it for so long he barely noticed when night fell.

He wanted to see her—but for the first time, the proud Shen Huai understood what it meant to be afraid.

Su Jiaojiao must despise him by now.

In the silence, Cai Shan quietly reminded him, "Your Majesty, it is time to attend the court-wide banquet."

Only then did Shen Huai abruptly recall—today was New Year's Eve, the night of the grand feast.

His voice carried the faintest quiver, though he wouldn't let his anguish show, saying evenly, "Has Consort Zhen attended?"

Cai Shan hesitated, not daring to meet the emperor's gaze. "Your Majesty, Consort Zhen is still weak from her illness and has begged leave to abstain."

After a long silence, Shen Huai let out a deep sigh, gave a faint "hmm" in response, and stood up.

The Twofold Hall was resplendent and already filled with people. The Imperial Consorts all wore smiles on their faces.

With an indifferent expression, he walked from the entrance to the main seat, while the royal relatives and all the Imperial Consorts bowed to him in unison.

The hall was adorned with plum blossoms of various colors, arranged with grandeur and elegance. As he scanned the room, he noted that apart from Noble Consort Lan and Su Jiaojiao, all the other consorts except them were present.

This year's New Year's Eve banquet was jointly organized by the Empress and Noble Consort Shu, and it was evident that they’d put in real effort.

But she wasn’t here.

After taking his seat, Shen Huai drank half a cup of light wine offered by the Empress. His index finger tapped lightly on the armrest before he finally couldn't resist and asked casually, "Why are neither Consort Zhen nor Noble Consort Lan present today?"

The Empress's eyes flickered briefly, but her expression remained gentle as she smiled and replied, "Your Majesty, Consort Zhen is still weak after her illness, and Noble Consort Lan has come down with a cold. That is why they are absent."

Meanwhile, in Yaoxian Palace—

Su Jiaojiao sat on the couch reading a book, saying softly, "I heard Noble Consort Lan has also fallen ill today. Since the banquet means fewer people outside, let's quietly go see her."

Yu Ye set down the freshly made pastries one by one and chuckled, "Yes, I just prepared a few plates of snacks that we can bring to Noble Consort Lan."

It was New Year's Eve, and since Su Jiaojiao wasn't attending the banquet, Noble Consort Shu had specifically instructed the Shangshi Bureau to ensure better food provisions for Yaoxian Palace. With her influence, the meals allocated to the palace had improved significantly.

At this moment, the banquet had just begun, and dishes were being served.

Yu Ying, Ling Xiao, and the other palace servants had already gone to the Shangshi Bureau to fetch the meals.

Things were different now—if one didn't go in person, the Shangshi Bureau didn’t have the staff to deliver portions individually. Thus, only Su Jiaojiao and Yu Ye remained in the palace.

Just as Su Jiaojiao was gathering her things to leave, a young palace maid she didn’t recognize rushed in, exclaiming, "Something’s wrong with Consort Zhen! She fainted in the plum grove and is now resting in a nearby hall. The other consorts are all at the banquet and cannot be disturbed, so we could only come to seek your help, my lady. Please hurry and check on her!"