Chapter 23: Unseen
A wave of hot blood rushed upwards. It felt as if a giant hand was squeezing her heart, making it nearly impossible to breathe, and her face gradually flushed red.
When a sliver of clarity returned, she repeated to herself, over and over again, This is all fake. It’s fake. After so many repetitions, she began to muddle-headedly believe her own words.
Only when the voices had faded away, leaving no trace, did Zhao Yiyi manage to curl her fingers. She turned her head numbly, her crimson lips parting slightly. “What time is it?”
“Your Highness!” Seeing her body go limp, Mancao quickly reached out to support her, her own hands and feet cold with fear from what they had just heard. “It’s about a quarter to four…”
Zhao Yiyi cut her off. “It’s getting late. We should go back.”
Her face was stiff and weary. Yunzhu couldn’t help but blame herself. It was all her fault for suggesting a walk in the first place, causing Her Highness to overhear those words.
With heavy hearts, they returned to Jiaofang Palace. Zhao Yiyi felt drained of all strength. She leaned sideways against a low couch, staring blankly at the diamond-patterned window lattice.
After a long while, she raised a hand to rub her temples and called out softly, “Yunzhu.”
“This slave is here.” Yunzhu, who was pouring hot tea, quickened her pace and hurried over with a dark-blue glazed teacup. “The wind outside is still chilly. Your Highness should drink some hot tea to warm up.”
Zhao Yiyi hummed in acknowledgment, taking the teacup to warm her cold fingertips.
Although she had repeated countless times in her heart that it was all false, nearly convincing herself, she couldn’t stop a new thought from creeping in. Why had her husband suddenly summoned the imperial physician for her? And why had that physician insisted she was too weak to go out for a while?
One event after another flashed through her mind, stripping away her ability to deceive herself.
A sudden wave of frustration washed over her.
Taking a small sip of tea, Zhao Yiyi instructed in a gentle voice, “Regarding what happened today… go and ask around. Don’t be too obvious. With such a major upheaval in the Imperial Court, some rumors are bound to be circulating in the palace.”
Since His Majesty had used the physician’s words to confine her to Jiaofang Palace, he probably hadn’t intended to hide it from her forever. Otherwise, why go through such trouble? He could have simply sealed off all news within the palace.
Yunzhu accepted the order and left. Zhao Yiyi sat on the couch, holding the teacup and staring absently at a pear tree outside the window, its branches already dotted with flower buds.
As her mind cleared, she gradually remembered that the vaguely familiar voice from earlier probably belonged to Consort Dowager He.
Consort Dowager He had always been a woman of deep and calculating thoughts. For a moment, Zhao Yiyi couldn’t tell if the encounter had been accidental, or if the Consort Dowager had deliberately waited on her path to say those things for her to hear.
Her mind was a tangled mess. Her grip on the teacup tightened, and her rosy fingertips slowly turned white.
The news that had flooded her ears had thrown her into a complete panic.
Mancao and a few junior palace maids sat nearby, telling jokes to cheer her up. Seeing the young girls rack their brains, Zhao Yiyi couldn’t help but force a slight smile.
Because her thoughts were consumed with waiting for Yunzhu, time seemed to stretch on endlessly. A short half-hour felt like half a day had passed.
When Yunzhu returned, her expression was grim. She hesitated as she walked, slowly approaching Zhao Yiyi to curtsy before speaking apprehensively, “Your Highness, this slave has made inquiries.”
“Mm?” Zhao Yiyi turned her head to look at her.
Yunzhu reported that, due to several major disputes in the court, the Emperor had dealt with a number of officials in one fell swoop a few days ago. The very first edict he had issued was to dismiss the Marquis of Huai’an.
And the heir of the marquisate… seemed to have been implicated and was dismissed from his post along with his father.
That was the second edict that had been passed down.
As for the Grand Princess and her eldest son, the rumors were also true. The Grand Princess’s original fief of four thousand households had been reduced to less than a thousand. Her eldest son, meanwhile, had been implicated in the Henei affair and was being escorted back to the capital for judgment along with the other Henei officials.
“I see,” Zhao Yiyi said after a long pause, her voice laced with fatigue. “Pour me another cup of tea. This one has gone cold.”
A moment later, she stood and began to pace slowly around the hall, a lost and helpless look on her face.
What happened to Zhao Weimin didn’t really concern her, but at least… at least it shouldn’t have been now. For better or worse, Zhao Weimin and the Marquis of Huai’an’s estate were still her public support system.
They shared honor and disgrace, life and death. It was inescapable.
Besides, even if she could ignore Zhao Weimin and Lady Xu, what about her elder brother, Duanduan, and A’Chen?
And what about herself? Where did this leave her?
The Emperor had newly ascended the throne and was at a critical juncture where he needed to establish his authority. How could he tolerate ministers who openly opposed him, who stepped on his prestige to display their own power? Even she, when managing the palace staff, knew to be strict first and lenient later.
It was a principle that even she could understand, yet these court officials seemed to be lost in a fog, treating the Emperor like a three-year-old fool.
She couldn’t help but feel a surge of resentment. Zhao Weimin had courted death and angered the Emperor. If he was tired of living, so be it, but he had dragged her brother down with him, ruining his career and jeopardizing the future of his own children.
She sat down and stood up several times, her heart in turmoil. She could ignore Zhao Weimin, but what about her brother? What about Duanduan and the others? Duanduan was to be married at the end of the year, and A’Chen would soon be fourteen, old enough to enter the Imperial Academy. How could she just stand by and watch all of that turn to dust?
In the end, the marquisate’s misfortune was all caused by Zhao Weimin. If she went to plead with His Majesty, could she… could she possibly obtain some leniency for her brother?
At this thought, Zhao Yiyi stood up once more and gave an order. “Go to the kitchen and make preparations. I want to cook a few dishes.”
The palace maids lowered their eyes and obeyed. Rolling up their sleeves, they went to the kitchen to help the chefs prepare the ingredients.
A moment later, Zhao Yiyi, her hair tied in a simple, elegant bun, also made her way gracefully to the kitchens and began selecting dishes. She was used to cooking these past few years, and with so many attendants to help with the prep work, a few simple dishes were quickly finished.
She had someone pack the food into a tiered container. Then, she returned to her chambers to change. As a cool east wind began to rise with the evening, she added a slightly thicker long vest over her robes.
Only then did she personally lead her attendants towards Zichen Palace.
The palace path was long. Zhao Yiyi sat upright in her shoulder-borne palanquin, her eyes closed as she carefully rehearsed her words. Countless ideas flashed through her mind, but she rejected them one by one.
Lost in thought, she had already arrived at the Left Silver Terrace Gate outside Zichen Palace.
“Blessings to Her Highness the Empress.” Seeing the Empress’s procession approaching from a distance, a eunuch named Wu Nan came out from the hall to greet her. He bowed with a smile. “What brings Her Highness here today?”
The palanquin stopped smoothly before the long street. Zhao Yiyi alighted and said, “I had nothing to do today, and since it is almost time for the evening meal, I prepared a few dishes for His Majesty.”
Wu Nan’s gaze shifted slightly, catching sight of the food container held by a lady-in-waiting behind her. It looked heavy, so it must be the food the Empress spoke of.
He reached out to take it. “Since Your Highness prepared it personally, His Majesty will surely love it.”
But Zhao Yiyi said, “Is His Majesty in the hall? I was thinking of bringing it in to him myself. I also wish to speak with him.”
Wu Nan’s heart leaped. He had a vague guess as to why she was here, and a troubled look crossed his face. “His Majesty has been exceptionally busy today. I’m afraid he has no free time.”
“Then… would you trouble yourself to announce me?” Zhao Yiyi asked.
He had no reason to refuse such a request. Wu Nan turned and trotted back into the hall. He returned a moment later, looking embarrassed. “Your Highness, His Majesty has been busy all day and is currently resting. Perhaps… Your Highness could come back tomorrow?”
The words and actions of the staff at Zichen Palace surely represented the Emperor’s will. This meant that the Emperor did not want to see her.
To stay any longer was pointless.
Forcibly suppressing the bitterness in her heart, Zhao Yiyi managed a smile. “Since His Majesty is resting, I shouldn’t disturb him. As for this food, I’ll trouble you to present it to him.”
On the way back to Jiaofang Palace, as they passed a cross-street, a group of brightly dressed young women approached and curtsied by the roadside. The one in the lead was He Xunling; the others were her attendants from Wanchun Palace.
Her mind already a tangled mess, Zhao Yiyi absentmindedly told them to rise. She had intended to ignore them, but He Xunling spoke up. “Is Your Highness returning from Zichen Palace?”
“Mm,” Zhao Yiyi answered faintly.
A smile blossomed on He Xunling’s pink face. “What a coincidence,” she said softly. “My aunt also asked me to deliver some pastries to Zichen Palace.”
Glancing at the sky, she spoke with sudden urgency. “Oh, look at the time! My aunt specifically instructed that I must deliver the pastries to His Majesty personally. I must be on my way. I hope Your Highness will forgive me.”
Zhao Yiyi remained silent, offering no reply. An awkward expression flickered across He Xunling’s face, which slowly gave way to apprehension.
Only after the Empress’s entire procession had passed did she hurry away, her face stiff.
The sky grew dim, the sunset clouds spreading across the horizon. Green curtains swayed gently in the east wind, the rustling of leaves a soft whisper. Leaning her head on her hand, Zhao Yiyi noted that it had been Wu Nan guarding the gate today; she hadn’t seen any sign of Wu Mao.
The dishes for the evening meal were all of Zhao Yiyi’s old favorites, but she ate without tasting a thing. She swallowed the food mechanically, her slender hand holding the chopsticks having lost its usual dexterity, moving with a stiff, slow reluctance.
Suddenly, she became aware with startling clarity that the man was not only her husband; he was the Emperor of the Great Chu, the Son of Heaven who held the power of life and death.
He knew how this would affect her. He knew she would be consumed by anxiety. And yet, he had done it anyway.
He couldn’t even be bothered to put on an act for her, choosing instead to simply not tell her at all.
The heart that was once filled with joy, fervent and burning hot whenever she saw him, grew cold, inch by inch.
That night, as she was leaning against the couch, unable to sleep, Yunzhu entered with her hands tucked in her sleeves. “Your Highness,” she reported, “the person watching that side has sent word. Miss He lingered outside for a long time before finally entering Zichen Palace. She stayed inside for nearly half an hour before coming out, though she did not look pleased.”
Clack.
With a clench of her hand, the jasper sachet hanging from the bed curtains fell to the floor, a faint crack visible on its surface.
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