Chapter 2

I only looked at the crooked lines of ink on the page. For the first time, I didn’t waste any effort guessing what, exactly, had made him angry.

At last, he suddenly turned and left. He slammed the door so hard that even the paper on the window trembled.

Nanny Zhou came in and tried to console me. “Your Majesty, His Majesty was clearly waiting for you to give him a way to back down.”

She glanced at the lantern and asked carefully, “Should it really be put away in storage?”

I nodded. “Put it away.”

In the past, I was always the one who bowed first.

He only had to frown slightly, and I would lie awake all night wondering what I’d said wrong. The next day, I’d go and apologize.

After making amends like that for more than a decade, I had no strength left.

6

I really had loved the lantern festival. As a child, I’d never truly had a chance to see it.

Not long after I married Pei Yan, when he was still a prince, he took me out of the residence for the Shangyuan Festival.

The streets were packed with people. Afraid I’d get lost, he held my hand tightly the entire time, his palm damp with sweat.

He waited in a long line at a sugar-figurine stall.

The vendor scooped up the hot sugar and spun his wrist a few times. A rabbit appeared on the stone slab.

Pei Yan held the sugar rabbit before my eyes and deliberately asked, “Look. Doesn’t it look like you?”

I shook my head. “Not at all.”

He insisted, “It clearly does.”

He pressed the bamboo stick into my hand, smiling. “Quiet and well-behaved.”

I lowered my head and bit off the rabbit’s ear, ignoring his teasing. But the candy was so sweet that I couldn’t bear to swallow it.

After that, we went to guess the lantern riddles.

I couldn’t guess a single one, but he refused to leave. He stayed beside me until every riddle card had been taken down by someone else.

Lanterns stretched from one end of the street to the other. The wind passed through, scattering light and shadow across the stone pavement.

I was already grown, yet only then did I learn how lively the lantern festival could be.

The voices, the gongs and drums, the scent of sweets—all of it was a simple joy my childhood had never known.

I told him I had never been there before.

He paused and asked why no one had ever taken me.

I looked up at the lanterns and, after a long while, said, “Father and my stepmother only took Elder Sister. My mother died young. No one remembered that I wanted to go out too.”

He didn’t ask anything more. A moment later, he took my hand firmly and said earnestly, “From now on, I’ll accompany you to the lantern festival every year.”

I turned to him. Countless lanterns reflected in his eyes, shining so brightly that I wanted to believe him for a lifetime.

Back then, I truly did believe him.

But after he ascended the throne, the time he could spare for me grew less and less.

At first, I always waited—waited for him to find a little free time amid his court affairs. In the end, what I waited for was his love for Elder Sister.

7

Not long after Gu Yunshu took over the phoenix seal, several consorts came together to visit the side courtyard.

Consort De wore a faded old dress. She had even removed the jade-and-gold flower hairpin she usually wore. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

She slapped her request tablet onto the table and choked out, “Your Majesty, Zhaohua Palace has blocked all our request tablets. We can’t even see His Majesty.

“Consort Gu has changed the allotments for all the palaces. Every good thing has been moved to Zhaohua Palace. The weather is turning cold, and my palace hasn’t even received a few catties of fresh charcoal.”

Her voice trembled. “If this continues, those of us without powerful families behind us may end up worse off than the palace servants.”

I sat by the window and turned a page of scripture. “You should take this up with His Majesty.”

I rolled a Buddhist bead between my fingers without looking at them.

Consort De stepped forward, clutching my sleeve. Her eyes reddened as she pleaded, “Your Majesty, are you truly unwilling to manage things anymore? You used to be the one who stood up for us most.”

I returned the memorials they had brought. “The phoenix seal and the imperial edict are no longer in my hands.”

Then I added, “The Six Palaces are governed by whoever holds the seal. From now on, there’s no need to come to me.”

Consort De’s hand slowly loosened. Consort Xian bit down hard on her lip.

The women exchanged glances, then finally lowered their heads and left.

When they arrived, they were still full of hope. When they left, they lowered their voices to keep even their sobbing quiet.

Unexpectedly, Pei Yan came in person after nightfall.

He entered the room carrying the chill of autumn, without even having someone announce him.

He walked to the desk. Only when he saw me still copying sutras did he speak. “I heard Consort De and the others came to see you today…”

He sat in the chair I usually used. “You used to be the most reasonable person in charge of the palace. Now you don’t care whether any of them live or die?”

In the past, I had hoped for him to come every day. He always said he was busy with state affairs.