At the same time, as night quietly descended upon Luoxiao Palace, an exquisite gilt-painted cup with colored glaze crashed beside Han Ruifeng’s feet with a sharp clatter. Tea spilled across the floor, still sending up wisps of steam. Han Ruifeng stared in shocked disbelief at Tong He, who knelt in the middle of the room trembling and looking as though he wished he could curl himself into a ball. “You… what did you say?”
Han Ruifeng tried to keep his voice level. Calm, as usual. Steady, as usual. Yet he could not stop the tremor that crept into it, though perhaps only he could hear it. His voice involuntarily rose by an octave.
“This servant only overheard a few palace servants gossiping—” Tong He lowered his head as cold sweat immediately broke out across him. After serving Han Ruifeng for so long, he had gradually learned something of his temperament. Precisely because he knew Han Ruifeng was normally so indifferent, never allowing anything to show on his face and capable of killing without blinking, seeing him lose his composure over a few unverified rumors was all the more startling. Was Master really this worried because a child might elevate Noble Concubine Xiao’s position? “—They were saying Noble Concubine Xiao seems to be pregnant.”
Tong He cautiously lifted his head, hoping to judge his master’s expression before deciding what else to say. Unfortunately, the instant he raised his eyes, he met Han Ruifeng’s gaze, sharp as the point of a knife, and immediately shuddered.
“Master doesn’t have to take it too seriously. It’s only servants spreading baseless gossip. Carrying an imperial heir is an extraordinary honor. If Noble Concubine Xiao had truly been blessed with His Majesty’s child, why would she hide it instead of announcing it?” Tong He racked his brain for anything that might reassure his master, unaware that his clever little argument was only adding fuel to the fire. “The Imperial Medical Bureau hasn’t made any announcement, and not a single person from Donghua Palace has gone to report it to His Majesty. None of that makes sense. The pregnancy rumor still needs to be verified, so Master shouldn’t believe it too readily. This servant can investigate tomorrow, and we can decide what to do after that.”
Han Ruifeng knew Tong He was right. Every word was reasonable and every argument made perfect sense, and precisely because they made so much sense, Han Ruifeng felt half his body turn cold. In the struggle for imperial favor, consorts would use every method imaginable. As long as it could keep His Majesty and preserve his favor, there was almost nothing they would not do. The most profitable and safest method of all was an imperial heir. Even a tiger would not devour its own cub. No matter how tired the emperor became of a particular consort, for the sake of the child he would still have to ensure that consort was properly cared for. Perhaps they would not become the most powerful person in the harem, but neither would they be reduced to someone anyone could bully without consequence. Male and female consorts in Hua were no longer bound by the taboos of older dynasties, and even prominent families regarded male lovers as fashionable, but in this one respect women possessed an overwhelming advantage. Everyone grew old and lost their beauty eventually; everyone had a day when the emperor’s interest faded. When that day arrived, a male consort could find himself at the end of the road, while a female consort with a child still had something to depend upon.
Thus, obtaining an imperial heir brought benefits in every direction: one’s current position, the prestige of one’s maternal family, and one’s future prospects. That was precisely why, when Han Ruifeng’s own position had still been unstable, Nalan Xuan’s child could not have been allowed to remain. If the emperor’s favor had gathered too early around a single person—and that person was not Han Ruifeng—then Han Ruifeng might never have had another chance to rise in his entire life. But the situation was different now. The harem was filled with consorts, yet the Central Palace alone stood above them all. If Xiao Qi could use a child to regain His Majesty’s attention and favor, that was something countless people would envy. With Xiao Qi’s temperament, if she truly carried the emperor’s child, simply refraining from turning the palace upside down, making sure everyone knew, and seizing the opportunity to swagger triumphantly would already have required the accumulated virtue of her ancestors. How could she possibly keep silent and hide it?
Then there was only one possibility…
The scene in Luoxiao Palace more than a month ago remained vivid in his mind: the inexplicable heat, the inexplicable agitation, the act he himself could not understand having committed, and the humiliation of being caught by the person who should never have seen it. Han Ruifeng had actually taken a woman into his arms—a woman he absolutely could not touch—and now there was a child.
A life conceived at the worst possible time, in the worst possible place, under the worst possible circumstances…
A cold light flashed through Han Ruifeng’s eyes, bloodthirsty and almost crazed. This child cannot remain, even if it is my own flesh and blood.
His hand tightened abruptly around the armrest, his fingers digging so hard into the wood that they seemed about to pierce it.
They might all be consorts serving the same emperor, but men and women were still kept separate. The palace gates were locked at the Xu hour, while male and female consorts were forbidden to move between one another’s quarters from the You hour onward. If Han Ruifeng rushed over there now, he would only invite gossip and suspicion; people could turn even nothing into scandal. He would have to wait until tomorrow. His only hope was that Nalan Xuan did not know yet, though Han Ruifeng himself knew that was almost impossible. In that case, he could only resolve everything cleanly before Nalan Xuan made his move.
Saving Lord Zhang back then had truly been a wise decision. Whether Han Ruifeng could turn the situation around now, whether there was any room left to change his fate, all depended upon that man.
He entered the inner chamber and ground ink. The snow-white wolf-hair brush darkened as it absorbed the ink, then swept across equally white xuan paper, leaving several large characters behind. Han Ruifeng folded the note and handed it to Tong He. “Go quietly. Do not let anyone know. Take this to Lord Zhang’s residence immediately, and do not return until you have obtained what I asked for.” He opened a brocade box on the dressing table, took out an inscribed pure-gold pass, and handed it to Tong He as well. “This is your pass for leaving the palace. You have only two hours. You must return before the palace gates are locked.” After pausing, Han Ruifeng realized there was still a flaw in the arrangement and hurriedly added, “If anyone asks, say you went to Yuanfo Temple in the western part of the city to request a peace talisman. Do not let a word of this leak.”
Han Ruifeng believed he had improvised an airtight arrangement, unaware that his unconscious anxiety had made a man who ordinarily spoke very little suddenly unleash such a rapid stream of instructions. Tong He stood there stunned and found himself becoming nervous as well. He reflexively glanced at the note in his hand. One look nearly made him faint on the spot. How many people in the harem were not ruthless? How many could truly remain gentle and virtuous, yielding at every turn? Yet the word “saffron,” written unmistakably in black ink upon white paper, was still almost too much for Tong He to bear. The pregnancy was still only an unverified rumor, yet his master had taken it this seriously and acted with such decisiveness.
Tong He did not ask anything, nor did he dare. This concerned an attempt on the life of an imperial heir, something no ordinary servant had any right to involve himself in. Pretending not to know and pretending not to understand was the only way to survive such a matter.
He bowed, took his leave, and hurried out, running all the way toward Lord Zhang’s residence.
Han Ruifeng did not sleep the entire night. As he tossed and turned, every detail of that day returned to him. Only now did he suddenly realize how loud Xiao Qi’s panting beside his ear had been, each breath seeming to strike directly against his heart and refusing to fade. Nalan Xuan’s faint, knowing smile as he said, “I understand,” and those indifferent words that could hardly even be called comfort echoed without end like a curse.
Han Ruifeng had never known a night inside the imperial palace could be so long. Nor did he feel the slightest joy or tenderness at becoming a father. The child brought him nothing but agitation and the sense of an obstacle in his path, and Han Ruifeng did not hesitate for even an instant in deciding that it had to be aborted.
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