Chapter 68

“What? The Minister of Rites actually killed his own son?”

Within the Palace Affairs Office, the low murmurs of gossip crept up from behind Li Zhi as she bent over her desk, managing the internal affairs of the palace maids.

Two lower-ranked female officials were whispering about the shocking scandal that had just swept through the palace like wildfire.

“And it was all because he was caught in an affair with his own daughter-in-law—what a disgrace! Lust-addled old man! And to think he’s the Minister of Rites!”

A muffled giggle escaped one of the women as she stifled her laughter behind her hand.

“The Ministry of Rites won’t be able to hold their heads up for quite some time now,” the other chimed in.

“I heard His Majesty sent Chief Eunuch Gao to oversee the investigation…”

“Ugh, just thinking about Chief Eunuch Gao’s face gives me the chills.”

“Who in the palace isn’t terrified of him?”

Their conversation gradually veered off course until it was abruptly cut short by a sharp cough from Director Ma, the head of the Palace Affairs Office.

Clearly, she had no interest in hearing gossip about Chief Eunuch Gao.

“Still… after such a huge commotion… what kind of life will Bai Xiuxiu even have now?”

Someone muttered softly, like the hum of a mosquito.

The wolf-hair brush in Li Zhi’s hand paused mid-stroke.

The truth of Bai Xiuxiu’s case had finally come to light under the retrial conducted by the tri-department court. Zhu Qinghai, now imprisoned in the Imperial Prison, had confessed everything. Zhu Jing’s death was the result of him walking in on an illicit encounter between his father and Liu-shi. To ensure that his second son, Zhu Feng, would not develop a rift with him over the inheritance, Zhu Qinghai had decided to silence Zhu Jing and frame Bai Xiuxiu for the crime.

Zhu Qinghai wept bitterly in his cell, repeatedly insisting he had no other choice.

But no one cared anymore.

Zhu Qinghai was stripped of all his titles and sentenced to death by execution in the autumn. Liu-shi, thanks to her father the Duke of Liu’s persistent pleas, escaped with her life but not her punishment—her head was shaved, and she was sent to a nunnery to live out her days with nothing but a lamp and scriptures. With her reputation in ruins, even life in the nunnery would be a harsh punishment for her.

On the day Bai Xiuxiu left the capital with her maid Yinhuan, Li Zhi had specially sent Jia Sui and Jia He to see them off.

She prepared a pouch of silver for Bai Xiuxiu. Even if her family’s decision to exile her to the countryside under the guise of “recuperation” meant she would live a lonely life, the silver would allow her to start a small business and earn a living.

As for the former Minister of Rites’ accomplice, the corrupt head of the Ministry of Justice who had falsified the autopsy report and coerced confessions, he too fell from grace. Meanwhile, Xie Lanxu, credited with overseeing the investigation, was promoted to head the Ministry of Justice as its new Chief Minister.

His promotion came less than a month after his initial appointment as the Vice Minister.

As Li Zhi and Xie Lanxu had predicted, the new Minister of Rites was aligned with Prince Feng’s faction.

Although neither Prince Jing nor Prince Feng held official positions and thus could not attend morning court, their influence loomed large over the proceedings.

Prince Jing suffered a significant blow, losing two major allies—the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Justice. This left his faction weakened, while those loyal to Prince Feng took the opportunity to strengthen their position. Naturally, Prince Jing’s supporters harbored a deep grudge against Xie Lanxu for his role in uncovering the truth.

In the Ziwei Palace, the Emperor’s decree appointing Xie Lanxu as the new Chief Minister of the Ministry of Justice met with fierce opposition—unsurprisingly, all the dissenters were Prince Jing loyalists. However, as the enemy of their enemy, Prince Feng’s faction stood united in support of Xie Lanxu, loudly endorsing the appointment.

The political infighting in court had reached a boiling point, with the two factions locked in open and irreconcilable conflict.

—-

Later, after recording several instances of disciplinary violations and passing them to Director Ma, the latter said, “Li Sizheng, new palace recruits are arriving today. The task of instructing and examining them will be yours.”

Li Zhi accepted the task without protest and went to receive the new recruits.

As she walked along the palace pathways, all the palace attendants she passed—whether familiar with her or not—greeted her with respect. The Palace Affairs Office, responsible for investigating the conduct of palace staff, was not an office anyone wanted to offend. Although the pay was modest, the additional gifts and bribes from grateful attendants ensured it was not a particularly impoverished position.

During this period, Li Zhi had encountered several junior attendants attempting to bribe her, but she had tactfully declined all their offers.

Once she finished overseeing the evaluations assigned by Director Ma, Li Zhi was on her way back to the Palace Affairs Office when she passed by the Eastern Palace. Her steps faltered, and she came to a stop.

Beyond the red walls and green tiles of the Eastern Palace, she could glimpse the layered pavilions within. A towering crape myrtle tree stretched its verdant branches over the wall, its leaves partially obscuring the shimmering glazed tiles beneath.

Li Zhi gazed intently at the hidden world behind the crimson walls.

Why had the last emperor of the previous dynasty entrusted the secret of the imperial treasure not to his sons or other daughters, but to Crown Princess Wei?

Because he knew that Crown Princess Wei would be the only surviving member of the previous dynasty’s royal family.

The last emperor had gambled—and he had gambled correctly. He bet on the current Emperor’s vengeful nature and paranoia. Every male of the previous royal family had been eradicated; even the princesses met tragic ends. The only one who lived a relatively stable life was Crown Princess Wei.

Because the Crown Prince had pleaded for her life, the Emperor, feigning mercy, granted Crown Princess Wei a marriage to the Crown Prince.

If she were a princess of the previous dynasty, where would she hide the secret of the treasure?

If she were the last emperor of the previous dynasty, would she pass down the secret through oral transmission or a map?

Li Zhi was lost in thought when a voice suddenly called out, breaking her reverie.

“…Li Sizheng.”

She snapped out of her daydream and, upon recognizing the speaker, her heart skipped a beat. She immediately dropped to her knees.

“This servant greets Prince Feng.”

That brief glance had been fleeting, but she had caught sight of a bold crimson—a shade as radiant as red gladiolus blossoms.

Why would Prince Feng speak to her?

“Stand up. I’ve never cared much for these empty formalities,” Xie Fengshao said with a hint of displeasure. The youthful clarity in his voice was straightforward and direct.

Li Zhi cautiously rose to her feet.

In the long silence that followed, she could feel Prince Feng’s gaze lingering on her, never straying far.

“If the Prince has no other business, this servant will take her leave…”

Better to avoid trouble when possible. Li Zhi was about to bow and excuse herself when Xie Fengshao suddenly spoke.

“Why didn’t you attend Princess He’an’s flower-viewing banquet?”

Startled, Li Zhi instinctively looked up at Xie Fengshao.

The young man wore clothes as bright as flames, with a golden crown and jade belt. His deep black eyes shone like freshly polished onyx, exuding a rare boldness that was seldom seen in the palace.

Though he seemed about the same age as Xie Lanxu, the two gave off completely different impressions.

Li Zhi glanced at him briefly before lowering her gaze again, responding with respect:

“Replying to Your Highness, at that time, this servant had only recently arrived in the capital. My Mansion was short on manpower, and I needed to personally attend to errands such as purchases. For that reason, I was unable to attend the banquet. However, I did send a reply explaining the matter…”

Uncertain whether he was a friend or foe, or what his intentions might be, Li Zhi carefully considered each word before speaking.

Xie Fengshao did not seem satisfied with her answer. However, he had no chance to press further as one of the Emperor’s personal attendants appeared from the palace path ahead. Upon seeing Xie Fengshao standing with Li Zhi, the attendant’s eyes flashed with surprise.

“This servant greets His Highness, the Prince Feng. Does Your Highness have any instructions?”

“…Nothing.”

Xie Fengshao cast a glance at Li Zhi, then left with his attendant trailing behind.

Once Prince Feng had left, the Emperor’s attendant approached Li Zhi, bowed, and said, “Miss Li Zhi, His Majesty summons you.”

Today was proving to be a day full of surprises.

Suppressing her astonishment, Li Zhi followed the attendant to the front of the Ziwei Palace.

A man with a long, elegant beard cascading down to his chest had just exited the palace, looking visibly relieved.

Quietly, Li Zhi asked the attendant beside her, “Young master, I’ve only recently entered the palace and haven’t learned everyone’s names yet. Who is that gentleman?”

“Ah, that’s the Peony Envoy,” the attendant replied with a glance, his tone full of understanding. “Looks like he’s finally managed to finish his assignment.”

Li Zhi had never heard of the title “Peony Envoy” before and hadn’t realized there was such an official position in the court.

With her questions left unanswered, she followed the attendant into the Ziwei Palace.

The Emperor, Xie Shen, was dressed in simple azure robes and sat cross-legged on a long chaise near the window, flipping through some papers.

After Li Zhi performed her greeting, the Emperor smiled and gestured for her to rise.

“Li Sizheng, you’ve been in the palace for some time now, yet I haven’t had the chance to speak with you properly.”

“This servant does not dare presume,” Li Zhi replied.

“You don’t need to be so formal,” Xie Shen said with a smile. “To be able to redeem yourself and return to the capital—well, you are a clever person. Let me be direct, then. Tell me—do you still wish to remain in the palace?”

The imperial study was so silent that the fall of a pin would have echoed.

Standing quietly in the corner, Gao Shan’s gaze remained fixed downward, his expression completely unreadable.

Li Zhi understood that the Emperor’s question about staying in the palace had another meaning. He was not asking about her current role but rather if she would enter another palace—a deeper, more treacherous place, one cut off from all connections and filled with endless intrigue.

“This servant does not wish to,” Li Zhi answered slowly and clearly, enunciating every word.

“Oh? You’re honest enough. Aren’t you afraid of angering me?” Xie Shen asked.

“Your Majesty will not be angered,” Li Zhi said. “Because this servant knows that what Your Majesty truly longs for is not me, but my late younger sister, Li Xia.”

Xie Shen merely laughed. After a moment, he spoke with meaningful intent:

“You truly are a clever one.”

“This servant dares to ask a question,” Li Zhi said cautiously.

She knew that the question she was about to pose could anger the Emperor, potentially leading to her death. Yet the question had haunted her for countless sleepless nights, and she could not resist asking it.

“Go ahead,” Xie Shen said.

“When did Your Majesty begin to feel affection for my sister?”

Xie Shen rubbed the stack of papers he had been reading earlier, his eyes narrowing as his expression turned wistful.

“Your father once sought to send you into the palace. At first, I didn’t care. Every year, countless officials try to send their daughters to the palace, hoping to vie for the phoenix throne. Whether you came or not didn’t matter to me.”

“That’s how I felt at the time,” Xie Shen continued. “But then, one day, your father invited me to his estate in plain clothes. By ‘coincidence,’ I happened to see you and your sister practicing a lotus dance on the pond.”

“Your sister caught my eye,” Xie Shen said, his gaze settling on Li Zhi’s face. Yet she could tell he wasn’t truly looking at her; he was seeing an eleven-year-old Li Xia through her. “From that moment on, both my life and hers were forever changed.”

“Li Sizheng, do you know why I showed you such favor during the rewards ceremony?”

“This servant is ignorant and humbly asks for Your Majesty’s guidance,” Li Zhi replied.

“Because I know that, like me, you haven’t forgotten her,” Xie Shen said with a sigh. “I need someone to share this longing with me.”

Li Zhi remained silent.

“Li Sizheng, help me make a selection.”

He shoved the stack of booklets he had been flipping through into her hands.

Li Zhi glanced at them, and her heart began to race.

The thick stack of booklets contained portraits of young women, each depicted with peonies. Beside each drawing were neat annotations of their family backgrounds and ages, written in small script.

At this moment, she should have knelt. As a palace official, what right did she have to choose concubines for the Emperor?

But it was as if she were under a spell, unable to stop herself from flipping through page after page.

One page.

Then another.

One girl.

Then another.

Every girl’s recorded age was thirteen. Forever thirteen. Yet none of the faces resembled the innocence of thirteen-year-olds.

The peonies in the portraits seemed stained with the blood of these girls.

These blood-red peonies ultimately converged into the memory of that fateful night—the night her twin sister’s life bled away.

The vivid red consumed Li Zhi’s vision.

Xie Shen was still watching her intently, as though fascinated by her reaction. Yet Li Zhi’s murderous intent had already surged to the surface. She barely managed to suppress it, clinging to her composure with every ounce of willpower, resisting the urge to lose control right then and there.

“Your Majesty… this servant does not dare.” Her voice was hoarse.

Unconsciously, she had wrinkled the booklet in her hands, but Xie Shen paid it no mind.

“If I order you to choose, you will choose. I trust your judgment.” Xie Shen smiled. “It’s been years since anyone new entered the harem. I’m tired of the ministers’ nagging. This time, I’m determined to select someone who’ll make them shut up.”

Her stomach churned violently. Merely listening to Xie Shen’s insincere words was enough to make her sick to her core.

The task of selecting concubines clearly belonged to the Ministry of Rites. The selection process traditionally involved girls aged fourteen to eighteen from prominent families. Even if some ministers were eager to curry favor with the Emperor by pushing their daughters into the harem, they wouldn’t stoop so low as to offer daughters as young as eleven or twelve.

Falsifying ages and selecting girls from the common folk could only have been done at Xie Shen’s explicit orders.

“Li Sizheng, choose one. I trust your judgment.” Xie Shen’s smile remained, calm and easygoing.

His smile, his mature and handsome face, his relaxed demeanor in informal robes—he looked every bit the benevolent and approachable ruler. Yet his actions were despicable, vile beyond measure, reeking of moral decay.

Li Zhi’s fingers went numb from clenching the booklet too tightly. Only the sharp pain in her palms reminded her that Xie Shen was waiting for her response.

If she refused to choose, would Xie Shen abandon the idea of selecting from this batch of peony portraits?

He wouldn’t.

In fact, he might select even more—far more than one.

Li Zhi battled herself internally. The agonizing conflict felt like a blade ripping through her very soul. Her trembling hand extended forward, like a sword of fate, pointing to the girl who appeared the most like a true thirteen-year-old.

“This servant dares suggest that this girl would be suitable.”

“Oh?”

Xie Shen picked up the booklet she had selected. His expression gave nothing away—neither approval nor disapproval. With a faint smile, he replied:

“Very well, let it be her.”

Her sword of fate had pierced the destiny of a girl she had never met.

When Li Zhi left the imperial study, she calmly bid farewell to Gao Shan.

Step by step, she descended the grand staircase, steadily walked down the imposing palace path, and even smiled politely in response to greetings from passing attendants.

No one knew that her palms were covered in blood, repeatedly clawed open in her struggle to suppress her murderous rage.

She could not kill Xie Shen.

Killing him alone would never suffice.

Even if she were to fall into hell, to transform into a vengeful ghost, forever trapped in the endless torment of the netherworld—she vowed to make Xie Shen experience despair and regret so profound that his life would become a living hell.

With her very existence, she swore an oath to all the young girls who had been violated.

Translation Notes:

1. Peonies and Blood Imagery:
   The juxtaposition of the vivid, red-stained peonies with the tragic fate of the girls serves as a symbolic reminder of innocence defiled. Peonies, often associated with beauty and wealth in Chinese culture, are here transformed into a macabre representation of exploitation and violence.
2. The Peony Envoy: This title is an intriguing invention, likely tied to the Emperor’s personal tastes or political schemes. The name suggests a connection to beauty and selection—perhaps tied to the search for concubines or political marriages.