Chapter 151 Not Suitable to Meet

**Chapter 151: Unsuitable to Meet**

**Selective Justice**

"What!"

Su Jiaojiao jerked her head up to look at Cai Shan, stunned into silence.

Consort Yu was the one who had orchestrated Yu Ye’s death and attempted her own murder. Yet finding evidence of the Empress's involvement was inseparable from Consort Yu herself—she was the linchpin of the whole plot.

To kill Su Jiaojiao, the Empress had resorted to such extremes—not only plotting to use Consort Yu as a pawn, but deliberately making the act so obvious that she would take the fall, leaving the Empress untouched.

With Consort Yu gone, everything connected to her would likely disappear without a whisper. Not a shred of evidence would remain.

Since the autumn hunt incident, the Empress had grown even more decisive in her actions. She must have nursed bitter fear and hatred toward Su Jiaojiao, and would stop at nothing to see her dead.

Su Jiaojiao tightened her grip on the brocade quilt beneath her, crushing the luxurious silk into deep folds. "Was Consort Yu’s palace searched? Did you find anything?"

Cai Shan paused, glancing first at His Majesty before answering Su Jiaojiao. "My Lady, we searched everywhere. The palace was spotless—only this was found."

He held out a neatly folded sheet of bamboo paper, filled with dense handwriting.

From the corner peeking out between his fingers, one could clearly see several dried, wrinkled marks along the edge—like tear stains.

It was Consort Yu’s handwritten letter.

Shen Huai’s aura turned icy cold.

He glanced briefly at the page, then gave a mirthless laugh before hurling the letter aside. “It is Consort Yu’s handwriting, but an Imperial Consort’s suicide damns her entire clan. I knew her—Consort Yu would never do this.”

“To think someone in the palace would stoop to such despicable means—I will not let this outrage go unpunished!”

“Guards! Investigate thoroughly—leave no stone unturned!”

On the night of the New Year’s Eve banquet, someone framed Consort Zhen, pushing her into the lake. The next day, Consort Yu was driven to suicide.

Yet the matter was far from over. Throughout the palace, His Majesty’s trusted men led armed guards in relentless searches.

Such a major event left everyone on edge. The New Year’s cheer vanished overnight.

The red lanterns that once hung in every palace were quietly taken down, and even the red plum blossoms disappeared from palace gates, for fear of courting bad luck at such a time.

After returning to her quarters, Consort Zhen staged a lavish funeral for her loyal maidservant who had died protecting her. Weakened by illness, she shut herself away in Yaoxian Palace, refusing to leave her chambers.

Whether from exposure to Consort Zhen’s sickness or something else, His Majesty soon fell ill too.

The imperial physicians diagnosed him with a severe cold, marked by intermittent high fevers, forcing him to rest in Taiji Palace for several days.

Nearly eight or nine days passed like this.

From New Year’s Eve through the tenth day of the new year, there were few sunny skies—only snowfall and endless gray clouds, as if a thick fog cloaked the heavens.

Looking up beyond the towering palace walls, the sky hung oppressively low, like cage upon cage, choking the air from their lungs.

It gave one a strange illusion—that even if wings grew and one escaped this rigid, scheming palace, true freedom would still remain just out of reach.

Su Jiaojiao drank a bowl of bitter tonic, lowered her lashes, and resumed reading the book in her hands. Her expression remained cold and distant despite her illness.

Yu Ying watched her mistress in quiet anguish, her eyes brimming with tears.

She quietly turned away to wipe her tears with a handkerchief, unwilling to let her emotions overwhelm her again.

It’s been days since Yu Ye was buried, yet the investigation has made no progress. Witnesses and evidence have vanished into thin air, leaving only what points to the late Consort Yu.

Even the palace maid who led Her Ladyship and Yu Ye to Noble Consort Lan’s quarters at Dark Fragrance and Sparse Shadows has disappeared from the palace without a trace.

All clues end with Consort Yu, sealing her guilt beyond doubt.

A consort’s suicide is a grave offense, but since the matter remains officially unresolved, it was claimed she framed Consort Zhen and died suddenly the next day.

She was posthumously demoted to commoner status but spared desecration.

Yet as long as the mastermind remains unpunished, neither Her Ladyship nor the rest can find peace.

For all know too well—the one behind this must be none other than the Empress, now with child.

But the Empress carries the Emperor’s heir, a priceless treasure, and having saved him during the autumn hunt, any accusation without proof would only backfire and tip her off.

Until the Empress is gone, Her Ladyship and Yu Ye’s vengeance remains unfulfilled.

Since childhood, she and Yu Ye had stayed at Her Ladyship’s side, leaning on each other to survive.

They were both orphans.

Rumor had it they’d been assigned as Her Ladyship’s playmates in the Su household by the late Madam—Her Ladyship’s birth mother—and later taught court manners before being formally placed in her service.

As far back as they could remember, the three of them had stood together through hardship in the Su estate, enduring every bitter moment side by side.

She was the steady one; Yu Ye, reckless and naive. Yet Her Ladyship treated them with equal kindness.

Now that Yu Ye was dead—having died saving Her Ladyship—Her Ladyship had grieved deeply, not once smiling in all these days.

Though Her Ladyship never showed it, Yu Ying saw right through her sorrow.

Ling Xiao, standing nearby, noticed Yu Ying’s reddened eyes and understood her pain.

She stepped forward and gently patted her shoulder, signaling that she could step out for a while—she would stay. Then, turning back to Su Jiaojiao, she softly urged, “Your Ladyship, your health is frail, and the lamplight is harsh. Don’t strain your eyes. Why not set the book aside and rest?”

Su Jiaojiao did not look up, her gaze fixed on the pages.

Only after a long silence did she finally speak, her voice quiet, “I recall the Empress has been pregnant for over two months now, hasn’t she?”

Ling Xiao hesitated at the question before lowering her head. “Yes. Her Majesty announced her pregnancy during the New Year’s Eve banquet. Counting the days, it has been over two months.”

“However, the Empress suffered greatly when she shielded His Majesty from an arrow during the autumn hunt, leaving her frail. The slightest breeze makes her cough. It wasn’t so noticeable before, but as her pregnancy progresses, it’s becoming worse. With the cold weather, she hardly leaves her rooms, resting constantly.”

Su Jiaojiao let out a quiet “hmm,” then asked, “What about Noble Consort Wang? The eldest prince has been recovering for some time now. I’ve heard he’s improved significantly and is slated to return to the Imperial Academy come spring.”

At last, Su Jiaojiao lifted her gaze—once soft and gentle, now icy and composed. “Is this true?”

Ling Xiao nodded. “It is. During the New Year’s Eve banquet, Noble Consort Wang brought the eldest prince along, which shows his condition has improved.”

Su Jiaojiao set the book down thoughtfully, her pale lips barely moving. “Summon Imperial Physician Liu. I have something to discuss.”

By sunset, two figures arrived in quick succession outside Yaoxian Palace.

It was Shen Huai and Noble Consort Lan.

Shen Huai's face still bore a faint flush, his eyes mostly clear, though with a stubborn glint of defiance that refused to be swayed.

Noble Consort Lan was somewhat surprised. After offering a respectful greeting, she curtsied slightly, her normally cool voice now laced with concern: "Your Majesty has not yet fully recovered from illness. What brings you out in this bitter cold? If you catch another chill, what then? If the sovereign does not take care of his own health, his subjects may grow anxious."

Shen Huai glanced at her, then calmly withdrew his gaze, turning it toward the palace maid stationed at the door.

The maid hurried inside to announce their arrival, and only then did he reply with casual indifference, "I am already fully recovered."

Seeing that His Majesty insisted on this, Noble Consort Lan could say no more. Yet as she noticed him pausing at the threshold instead of entering, a nagging suspicion stirred within her.

It had always been His Majesty’s habit to enter any palace with loud fanfare, never hesitating like this.

Mindful of protocol, Noble Consort Lan lowered her head and stepped back two paces. A gust of cold wind swept past, and she coughed lightly into her handkerchief before moving aside to wait.

Before long, the maid who had gone to announce them returned, her face streaked with tears, trembling as she darted glances between His Majesty and Noble Consort Lan, her voice shaking.

She looked up at His Majesty and said, "My lady says…"

"My lady says she is unwell and in no state to receive Your Majesty. She suggests that Your Majesty return to Taiji Palace to rest and recuperate… And also…"

Shen Huai gripped the armrest until his knuckles whitened, then suddenly broke into a violent cough before demanding, "And what else?"

The maid seemed on the verge of tears as she replied, "She said Noble Consort Lan may come in to speak with her."