A plum grove, artificial hills, winding streams, and hot springs that even the falling snow could not cool; carved beams and painted rafters, brocade robes and delicacies—yet he was nothing more than a caged bird, deprived of freedom.
Ning Xuan had been here for seven days. Feng Xuanyi claimed that the realm was currently in turmoil and that this arrangement was intended to protect Ning Xuan from harm, but in reality, it was imprisonment and restraint. Feng Xuanyi understood that, and Ning Xuan naturally understood it as well. Feng Xuanyi did not say it aloud, so Ning Xuan pretended not to know.
Seven days was neither long nor short, but at such a critical moment, Ning Xuan had no idea what changes or upheavals had occurred outside. To ensure Feng Xuanzhe’s safe departure, he had been required to pay a price. Although Ning Xuan was now a court official crowned with achievements, there remained a distinction between sovereign and subject. The sovereign was the master, and the subject his servant. No matter how glorious or enviable those honors appeared, they were merely favors bestowed by the ruler, who could grant them whenever he wished and withdraw them just as easily. If Ning Xuan believed his achievements were enough to overshadow the sovereign, influence imperial authority, and force Feng Xuanyi to act cautiously—or that someone would step forward to defend him—then he would truly be overestimating himself.
Palace attendants occasionally entered to serve him, but none uttered a word. No matter what Ning Xuan asked or said, they never answered. They kept their heads lowered without even lifting their eyelids, silently behaving as though he did not exist, yet treating him with perfect respect.
Seven days earlier, Ning Xuan had stood at the city gate and watched Feng Xuanzhe’s departing figure. He did not hate him for the deception or resent him for turning away without the slightest reluctance. He felt only profound helplessness and regret. Ning Xuan did not understand. He had not been the one to begin any of it, nor had he been the first to demand or seek anything. He had never entertained extravagant hopes or tried to force them into giving him something. Yet they had insisted upon thrusting it into his hands, dragging him toward it without allowing him to argue, hesitate, or refuse. Then, whenever Ning Xuan was finally moved and resolved to open his heart and sincerely accept them, they withdrew and left with ruthless efficiency, without hesitation, uncertainty, or the faintest trace of longing.
Seven days of isolation had left Ning Xuan unaware of the date or the world beyond these walls. After seven days of knowing nothing, what finally came was an imperial decree:
“By the mandate of Heaven and the favor of fortune, the Emperor decrees: Young Master Ning Xuan is hereby appointed to the Proper Third Rank of Jieyu and granted the honorific ‘Virtuous.’ He shall reside in Moon-Embracing Palace. Respect this decree.”
A single imperial decree settled everything that had occurred during those seven days. However many flashes of steel, bloody storms, and violent struggles had taken place were now matters of the past—history, or unofficial history that could only be buried within darkness and never exposed to the light. Thus was established the imperial path of a new ruler, woven from the blood of his own brothers.
Looking at the grand procession of palace attendants led by Mo Yan—the former steward of Prince Rong’s Residence and now Chief Palace Steward—who had come to proclaim the decree, Ning Xuan felt as though an entire lifetime had passed.
Mo Yan held the decree in both hands and remained respectfully bowed for a long while, yet Ning Xuan made no move to receive it. The servants filling the room knelt across the floor, each with his head lowered in terrified silence. Neither angered nor impatient, Mo Yan calmly swept his gaze over several bold and curious servants and palace maids who had dared glance in their direction. “Young Master, please receive the decree.”
Ning Xuan woodenly reached out and accepted the decree Mo Yan respectfully presented. It was merely a brilliant piece of embroidered silk, yet his face was filled with confusion. It was not that he failed to understand what it meant. On the contrary, precisely because he understood, he could not comprehend it. What was Feng Xuanyi trying to calculate this time? What was he planning now?
There was no astonishment, delight, gratitude, or pride at receiving imperial favor. Ning Xuan remained calm and indifferent, like an uninvolved observer. Mo Yan bowed and departed, leaving the servants and maids who had listened to the decree astonished and confused. They wondered what sort of background Ning Xuan possessed to dare deny even Mo Yan proper courtesy. Everyone now knew that Mo Yan was the new emperor’s foremost confidant. Refusing to show him respect was equivalent to refusing respect to the emperor himself. That realization sent every mind rapidly calculating. Even those who ordinarily served in silence without raising their eyes began weighing their actions, studying Ning Xuan, and attending to him with exceptional caution—observing the situation carefully so they would not bring disaster upon themselves.
Whether palace officials had always worked with such efficiency or the new emperor inspired overwhelming fear, the Imperial Household Department arrived immediately after the decree. They offered respectful greetings and careful smiles before beginning the arrangements. Moving someone from one palace to another was not a major undertaking, but the countless minor details were troublesome. Nevertheless, everything was packed and prepared neatly within half a day.
By the time the sky darkened beneath brilliant crimson clouds, Ning Xuan had successfully moved into Moon-Embracing Palace. The palace lived up to its name. At the center of its grounds lay a lake shaped like a waning crescent, its ends sharply defined while its middle was rounded and full. The sparkling surface formed the outer crescent, while the broad recessed space within it was filled with enormous hibiscus blossoms. Together, the curved edge of the flower field and Moon Lake formed a perfect full moon. At the center of the hibiscus grove stood a pavilion for resting and admiring the scenery, constructed entirely from white marble. The natural veining of the stone required no additional ornamentation. Its innate grandeur and magnificence inspired admiration—understated and restrained, yet generous and dignified.
The main hall of Moon-Embracing Palace stood directly north of the pavilion, with a side hall to both the east and west.
Standing within the pavilion, Ning Xuan could take in the entirety of Moon Lake, where water and sky appeared to merge. Beneath his feet, vast clusters of hibiscus flowers surrounded him, enormous blossoms pressed together in profusion. When the breeze swept across them, their branches swayed like waves upon the sea, rising and falling one after another. The quantity and scenery seemed strangely familiar. Yet unlike the snowy-white blossoms before him, those he had seen in his dream had been brilliantly dazzling, even enchantingly crimson.
A single wall confined all this beauty. The flowers bloomed and withered, admiring their own fragrance without seeking so much as one backward glance from anyone else. They stood proudly and elegantly against the wind, asking only to bloom freely and without restraint. The setting sun cast mottled crimson light across them. It should have added warmth to the scene, yet for some reason, it only made everything appear even more desolate.
“Master, someone from the imperial presence has delivered word. His Majesty will come to Moon-Embracing Palace for the evening meal tonight.”
The imperial harem had always been a place filled with the resentment of countless consorts. The emperor’s favor determined not only one person’s glory, but the safety of an entire clan. The fates of countless individuals and the rise or decline of whole families could depend upon a single sentence from that man. There was no need to draw swords or openly confront one another; a few carefully timed whispers beside his pillow would suffice. The cruelty of reality did not permit anyone to choose whether to believe or submit. Whether they pursued favor willingly or were forced into it by helpless circumstances, open conflict, covert struggles, and exhaustive schemes were iron laws of survival. Conscience and lamentation became unnecessary. One merely had to learn acceptance and allow oneself to drift with the current.
Ning Xuan had never imagined that such a life would one day fall upon him. Whether others were driven by ambition and desire or by bitterness and helplessness, they always possessed some reason that forced them to struggle and compete. Ning Xuan, however, could only smile bitterly. He could not even invent a respectable justification that would allow him to accept this calmly and celebrate the hard-won imperial favor with joy. He could find no such reason, could not learn to do so, and was even less willing to try.
After waiting for a long while, the newly assigned servant Xiao Dezi received nothing but his master’s indifferent reply, three words devoid of any discernible emotion: “I understand.” Xiao Dezi’s heart immediately rose into his throat. A servant naturally had no right to interfere in his master’s affairs, but after repeatedly considering the matter, Xiao Dezi still pulled a bitter expression and asked painfully, “His Majesty will arrive shortly. Does Master not need to go inside, wash and change, and have some food prepared?”