Chapter 8

Sunlight fell through the lattice onto his face. The old timidity had faded. His eyes were solemn.

He stepped forward and suddenly knelt on both knees before me.

Alarmed, I reached to lift him.

“Heng! What are you doing? Get up!”

He refused. Looking up, his eyes reddened.

“Consort Shen, you pulled me inside when I was freezing to death. You gave me hot porridge and medicine. You protected me from Yu, risked your life to save me from the fire, and raised me despite your own hardships.”

He paused. His throat moved.

Then, softly: “Mother.”

I froze, my hands still.

After living together, enduring that hungry winter and countless dangers side by side, we had long since become a true mother and son, depending on each other.

I couldn’t hold back the hot tears rolling down my cheeks.

Bending, I gripped his arms and pulled him up.

“My good boy.” My voice broke. “Get up. Please get up.”

“I don’t ask you to become rich or powerful. I only want you to live safely and protect yourself.”

He nodded hard.

Just then, an attendant called from outside, urging him to come for the imperial examination.

I steadied myself, ground his ink, and straightened his robes.

“Go. Be careful in everything. Be especially wary of those in the palace.”

“Don’t worry, Mother.”

He turned and left.

At the door, Chuntao secretly wiped her tears.

### Part 11

Over the following days, I reminded everyone in our courtyard to be cautious in word and deed, not to associate secretly with people outside our quarters, and to inspect every item brought in.

I thought such care would keep danger away for a while.

Then one afternoon, as I taught Heng to recognize herbs, everything changed.

I wanted to pass on more of what we’d learned at Zhutang Courtyard, so that in danger he might distinguish poisonous substances and survive.

He listened intently, memorizing each herb’s properties.

Suddenly, more than ten armed Imperial Guards burst through the gate.

Chuntao went pale and stood before me.

“What are you doing entering without an order?”

The deputy commander ignored her, his eyes fixed on us.

“By the Noble Consort’s verbal command, cursed objects have been reported at Qinghui Courtyard, intended to harm the imperial family. Arrest Consort Shen and the Seventh Prince for questioning! Search!”

The guards spread out. They overturned chests, beds, and cabinets.

Heng stepped in front of me, his young back straight.

“Without evidence, how can you accuse us of sorcery?”

“We’ll know whether it’s a trap once we search,” the commander said coldly.

Soon, a guard ran out with a cloth doll from beneath Heng’s bed.

Yu’s birth date and time were written on it. Tiny silver needles covered it.

“Found it!”

My heart sank.

Without an imperial decree, the Noble Consort had mobilized the guards with a spoken order alone. She clearly meant to arrest us, force a confession, and pronounce death before anyone could intervene.

“That isn’t ours!” Chuntao shouted.

The commander waved coldly.

“The evidence is here, and you still argue? Arrest them all!”

Two guards moved toward me.

“Stop!” Heng shouted.

“You have no decree from His Majesty. On the Noble Consort’s word alone, you dare arrest a consort charged with raising a prince—and an imperial prince himself? Who gave you that courage?”

The deputy commander hesitated.

Seizing the moment, I pushed Chuntao outward.

“Go to the Imperial Study! Ask for His Majesty! Tell him we’ve been framed for sorcery and our lives are in danger. Beg him to come!”

She gritted her teeth and rushed for the gate.

The guards tried to block her. The courtyard descended into confusion.

Heng stayed firmly before me, confronting them.

The commander’s face darkened. He signaled his men to seize us first.

Just as a guard’s hand reached Heng’s arm, a eunuch’s prolonged announcement came from the distance.

“His Majesty arrives!”

Everyone froze, then dropped to their knees.