Back then, after the death of Empress Shen, she had truly believed that her opportunity to become Empress had finally arrived.

  At that time, everyone had tacitly assumed that it would either be her or Xian Fei. She was favored; Xian Fei had a son.

  She had believed herself to be far more qualified than Xian Fei. She was still young back then, while Xian Fei was occupied with nursing a sickly child who might die at any moment.

  Her family background, her favor with the Emperor, and their past affection—she cked none of it. She had even borne the Emperor’s first child.

  Yet, the Empress Dowager had gone and chosen a daughter from the declining Zhao family to become the new Empress.

  How could she not resent it?

  For all these years, watching Zhao Wumian make a mess of things and being disliked by both the Emperor and the Empress Dowager, she had always believed that as long as Wumian's behavior ultimately led to her own ruin, her own opportunity would arise.

  Who would’ve thought—a severe illness didn’t kill her off. Instead, she actually recovered!

  And now, she had become so hard to deal with.

  “No matter what, she still doesn’t have a child,” Rong Fei sighed quietly. “But over at Hanliang Pace… that one is the real threat. If she gives birth to a prince one day… things won’t go well for us.”

  Guifei frowned. How could she not know that? But the Emperor was watching closely now—how could she dare to make a move so easily?

  She had long thought about it. Rong Fei wouldn’t be the one to take the risk either.

  “Sister, if something is to be done, it’s not that there won’t be an opportunity,” Rong Fei lowered her voice, gncing around. “But it must never be by our hands.”

  Guifei nodded. “Shall we go sit at my pace for a while?”

  Rong Fei smiled and agreed.

  From a distance, Xian Fei watched them and merely smiled faintly.

  Her maid, Yueqin, couldn’t help but scoff. “Rong Fei is always following Guifei around. Her Minghe Pace is all the way on the other side of the Imperial Garden, yet she never tires of coming to pay respects to Her Majesty every day. And after that, she still takes the trouble to visit Guifei’s pace before returning. Truly exhausting.”

  “She’s always depended on Guifei,” Xian Fei replied lightly. “Even back when she was only a Liangyuan, she’d already attached herself. She’s good at currying favor, and Guifei trusts her. It’s better to cling to each other than to fight alone.”

  In fact, back in the Eastern Pace, she herself had once gotten along with them quite well.

  At that time, they had all been suppressed under Shen Shi.

  But everything changed after she conceived and gave birth to the Second Prince.

  “Since the new concubines entered the pace, His Majesty rarely visits Rong Fei anymore,” Xian Fei added.

  It was no wonder Rong Fei was getting anxious these days.

  “Ah, these things aren’t something we can control,” Xian Fei shook her head, resting her hand on Yueqin’s arm as they turned to leave.

  That very afternoon, word came that one of the te Emperor’s consorts, who had held the low rank of Yunu, was gravely ill and likely wouldn’t make it.

  Guifei barely concealed her irritation. A Yunu from the te Emperor’s time—never promoted even after the Emperor’s death, still addressed nominally as a ‘Consort’ out of courtesy, but only in name. What did she care?

  She simply instructed that someone keep an eye on it and have a physician sent to take a look.

  The attendant who delivered the news responded perfunctorily. Who would care about an unloved concubine from the te Emperor’s harem—no children, no family background, no one worth mentioning?

  Sure enough, four days ter, the consort passed away. She had only been in her twenties—actually younger than Guifei and the others.

  A pitiful fate indeed.

  She had entered the pace te, came from a poor family, the Emperor had died young, and she hadn’t lived long enough to climb higher.

  “They say she never even shared the Emperor’s bed,” Linshui remarked, shaking her head. “The te Emperor passed before she had the chance.”

  “She entered the pace the same year as Min Fei,” Feixu added. “Min Fei was made a concubine in the Eastern Pace at that time, but this dy was just a Yunu in the rear pace. She never received favor. The te Emperor passed away in the second year she entered the pace. Thankfully, there were only four selected maidens that year.”

  “Follow the proper customs for her funeral,” Wumian sighed. “With Guifei in charge, I won’t have to trouble myself.”

  She couldn’t help but ment inwardly—how bitter the lives of women in the pace were.How many withered and disappeared in silence, unnoticed by anyone?

  Looking at the downpour outside, Wumian thought to herself: perhaps the heavens were weeping for them today.

  Because of the heavy rain, it had been announced early in the morning that no one needed to come pay respects. Wumian was able to sleep in for once.

  It had begun raining before dawn, and by the time daylight broke, it was pouring relentlessly. It didn’t let up until midday, then settled into a steady drizzle.

  Wumian had the windows opened and a chaise lounge brought beneath them. She y there resting, the air cool without the need for ice blocks.

  Zhaohua gently covered her with a thin bnket, and Wumian held a book, reading quietly by the light.

  An hour or so ter, Jinbo returned—the rain much lighter now.

  “Your Majesty, Min Fei personally went to see the deceased consort and has now gone to Taiji Pace. I suspect she’s asking His Majesty to posthumously promote her.”

  Wumian set down her book, a bit surprised. “If that’s true, it’s quite something.”

  Sure enough, by the afternoon, word came that the Emperor had posthumously granted the deceased consort the title of Jieyu and had sent gifts to her family.

  She would never know this honor in death, but wasn’t that what people longed for—some recognition after they were gone?

  At least she still had family. Perhaps her young life hadn’t been entirely in vain.

  And, unsurprisingly, Min Fei stayed at Taiji Pace for dinner and even stayed the night.

  Many in the harem couldn’t understand this supposed kindness. Perhaps Min Fei herself wasn’t entirely sincere.

  This was merely an opportunity—a chance to appear loyal and virtuous in His Majesty’s eyes.Who could say what was true?

  Regardless, in the harem, it was all too common to climb upward over the bones of others.

  The next morning, Wumian changed into pin-colored robes. Since the Emperor had issued a posthumous title, she would show some respect.

  The others were also tactful enough not to wear anything too bright.

  Wumian took the initiative to mention the te consort, sighing a few words of pity. The others all echoed her sentiments dutifully.

  Min Fei, however, said nothing.

  “Min Fei is always so kind and sentimental. I’d almost forgotten you entered the pace the same year as her. It’s a pity about Qu Fengyi—do you still remember her?” Rong Fei asked.

  Min Fei nodded. “Of course I remember. She died when she was only fifteen. It’s been nine years. Why do you bring her up? Back then, when she was gravely ill, all she wanted was to return home. The Crown Princess sent someone to scold her. I remember you also said she was foolish, sister. Time passes, and I doubt anyone remembers her now.”

  Rong Fei looked a little embarrassed. “How could she ask to return home after entering the Eastern Pace?”

  “Qu Fengyi was simple-minded. If she had lived to this day…” Min Fei shook her head.

  Unfortunately, she had been timid and guileless. Soon after entering the Eastern Pace, she fell ill. The Crown Princess disdained her; the physicians weren’t particurly skilled, and after a few months, she died.

  Back then, the Emperor—then Crown Prince—had disliked that sort.Falling ill the moment you entered the Eastern Pace? What was that supposed to mean? That you dislike serving him?

  Wumian had heard of her in passing but had never paid much attention.Looking closely at Min Fei now, she thought—this woman had quite the memory.

  Min Fei wasn’t done. “Is Sister reminding me that Qu Fengyi wasn’t posthumously promoted either? That’s not something I should do. His Majesty is still young. When the time comes, he’ll make such arrangements.”

  Her words were cutting, leaving no room for politeness.