Guifei spoke up. “Yes, Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager, please calm your anger. At the very least, wait until Li Fei’s pregnancy stabilizes. She’s still young, and her health is frail. She’s overly anxious because she cares too much about the imperial heir.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Xian Fei echoed. “It would be better to wait until her condition improves before issuing any punishment.”

  The Empress Dowager snorted. “Hard to believe you’re all speaking up for her. Fine, I’ll let it go for now—just this once.”

  She turned to Wumian. “You may sit. You’re kindhearted, but as Empress, you must still keep a firm hand over the other consorts.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Wumian said as she took her seat. “Thank you for the guidance.”

  “I may let it go this time,” the Empress Dowager continued, “but Li Fei must not be allowed to act so recklessly again. I want to hear directly from the Imperial Physician—what exactly is the condition of her pregnancy?”

  “Please, Mother, don’t work yourself up,” Ying Qionglou interjected. “The physician is scheduled to come this afternoon. For now, why don’t you have lunch and rest a little? This son has been remiss.”

  “Very well.” The Empress Dowager took a deep breath. “The Emperor and the Empress will stay and dine with me. The rest of you may leave. And have the physician attending to Li Fei come here ter this afternoon.”

  Everyone dispersed, and the Empress Dowager went to change her clothes.

  Wumian and Ying Qionglou sat together, waiting.

  “You’ve been wronged, Empress.”

  Wumian gnced at him without smiling or replying. Her face was calm, her expression unreadable.

  Ying Qionglou studied her for a moment. “Are you… upset?”

  “No,” she replied. “This is what an empress is supposed to do. As long as Your Majesty understands that, it’s enough. The Empress Dowager was angry—if she scolds me a little, I can take it.”

  “You are truly virtuous,” Ying Qionglou said.

  Wumian looked at him, as if hesitating to speak, then finally said, “This might not be something Your Majesty wants to hear—but it’s the truth. The inner pace is filled with talented women. No one is truly inferior to another. Everyone wants to be favored. Even if Your Majesty cannot grant affection equally, it’s better to restrain your preferences. Otherwise, what’s meant to be true favor ends up looking false.”

  Ying Qionglou asked, “And you, Empress?”

  If everyone wants to be favored, what about you?

  “I am Your Majesty’s Empress,” she said calmly. “I know I am not someone you love, but I still try to fulfill my duties. I aim to be virtuous and proper, and not cause you any trouble.”

  There’s no need for me to compete with the other consorts, she implied.

  Her words left Ying Qionglou slightly awkward. “That’s a bit much, Zitong. When have I ever said I don’t love you?”

  (Transtor Xiaobai: Ying Qionglou calling Wumian “Zitong” could suggest something like: “You are gentle but rooted. Nurturing like a tree, graceful like water.” It’s an elegant and poetic nickname, likely chosen to highlight her calm strength, emotional restraint, and virtue.)

  Wumian looked at him with a faint smile. “Then perhaps Your Majesty should just call me ‘Empress’ instead.”

  That nickname he used for her felt so awkward that she wanted to curl her toes in embarrassment.

  Ying Qionglou wondered if she disliked the name, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

  The Empress Dowager soon returned, and the Eldest Prince arrived with her.

  Once the meal was served, everyone sat down together.

  The Eldest Prince hadn’t seen his father in years. Though he often received gifts from His Majesty, he hadn’t actually id eyes on him in four full years.

  Even the deepest memories of a five-year-old fade into fragments. What remained most vividly in his mind was Fengyi Pace—everything else was a blur.

  All these years, he’d only heard stories from the people serving him, speaking of the pace with casual ease. Perhaps they thought he’d never return, so they spoke freely.

  Each time he listened, he would compare it against the little fragments of memory he had—had he been there before? Did he remember that?

  Now that he was back, everything felt unfamiliar.

  Of course, a nine-year-old might not be able to articute such thoughts clearly. All he felt was a sense of estrangement.

  Oddly enough, sitting at this table, he felt more at ease with the Empress he’d never met than with anyone else.

  Even his grandmother, whom he’d spent time with recently, did not feel close.

  Whatever grievances existed among the adults, a child still knew resentment.

  Being cast off to a remote pace for years had made him feel like someone no one wanted.

  Even though he understood, rationally, that the downfall of the Shen family had affected him and his mother, it didn’t change the fact: he’d been abandoned at the age of five.

  So this meal was difficult for him. He tasted nothing.

  After they finished eating, Wumian and the Emperor took their leave. The Empress Dowager didn’t need them to be present to question the physician.

  Back in Fengyi Pace, Wumian gave instructions to her attendants. “Send some things to the Eldest Prince, not to the Empress Dowager’s pace. Send them to the Southern Garden.”

  Linshui blinked, then nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Indeed, the more carefully one wanted to show kindness, the more discreetly it had to be done.

  What good would it do to send gifts right under the Empress Dowager’s nose? If she wanted to know, she’d find out either way.

  “The Eldest Prince really is pitiful,” Wumian murmured. “If the Shen family hadn’t fallen, even if Shen Shi had passed away, he’d still outrank me. A legitimate son of the former Empress—who’s to say how we’d compare?”

  But now, there was no need to specute. Just the act of bringing him back had already stirred murmurs at court.

  After all, the treason case back then had implicated many people. Even when the Shen family women and children were still alive, they had already drawn heavy criticism.

  Over at the Empress Dowager’s pace, Imperial Physician Zhang sat below the dais and replied respectfully:

  “Li Fei has always been frail. In her earlier years, she struggled to conceive due to irregur cycles. This time, her pregnancy is unstable. I’ve prescribed medicine to calm her nerves and adjusted her nightly tonics several times. But she still cannot sleep peacefully. After being startled st night and seeing blood, she’s in no condition to withstand any more strain.”

  The Empress Dowager frowned. “Just tell me—can this child be saved or not?”

  “At the moment, it’s difficult to say. If she can make it to five months, she’ll likely carry it to term. But until then, she must not suffer the slightest agitation,” Imperial Physician Zhang said.

  “So, she’s not exactly blessed, is she?” the Empress Dowager said coldly. “You’re the most skilled physician in the Department of Women’s Medicine. Keep an eye on her.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I will do everything in my power,” Imperial Physician Zhang replied.

  “You’ve worked hard. You may go now. Someone sees him out.”

  After Imperial Physician Zhang retired, the Empress Dowager ordered, “Spread the word—until Li Fei gives birth, no one is to disturb her. She’s not to leave her quarters even if nothing’s wrong.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. Should we investigate the incident? Could there be something strange about it?” Lingzhi asked.

  “There’s no need,” the Empress Dowager said dismissively. “What’s there to investigate?”

  Lingzhi didn’t press the matter any further.

  Once the Empress Dowager’s order was issued, reactions across the pace were mixed—some felt gloating schadenfreude, while others grew uneasy.

  If even the Empress Dowager had spoken in Li Fei’s favor, did that mean she might actually carry this child to term?

  That would be… quite the unfortunate turn of events.

  —

  That evening, the Emperor came to Fengyi Pace. Wumian was in the middle of her meal.

  “Your Majesty, what brings you here at this hour? Have you eaten yet?”

  “No,” Ying Qionglou replied. “I came to see what the Empress is having today.”

  “Then please sit, Your Majesty. I was only having a light meal. If you don’t mind, shall we dine together?” She waited for him to sit before adding, “Shall I have the small kitchen prepare a few extra dishes? If we disturb the Imperial Kitchen at this hour, it’ll take longer and cause a fuss.”

  “Whatever the Empress sees fit,” he said.

  Even when dining alone, the Empress’s table was never cking. Simplicity didn’t mean scarcity.

  In truth, there was already more than enough for him to eat. But he was the Emperor—naturally, he had to be treated a little differently.

  The small kitchen quickly sent over a few dishes. The main soup of the evening was crucian carp broth. There weren’t any shredded radishes this time—just the fish itself. The soup was creamy white and looked especially rich and appetizing.