In Yi Palace, the crash of porcelain echoed like thunder.
Consort Yi's chest rose and fell with fury, jeweled hairpins shaking as her hand trembled. "Dismissed? Punished? Fined?" She spat the words like poison. "And by her of all people!"
Her chief maid knelt low, voice quivering. "Noble Consort Wei has taken full control of the palace accounts. She replaced the eunuchs and maids of the Inner Court with her own appointments. The new budget has already been approved."
Yi's nails dug into her palm until blood welled at the skin. "Wei Lan…" Her voice dripped with venom. "The pampered daughter of a general, used to soldiers bowing at her feet—now she dares to treat the harem like her military camp."
The maid hesitated, then whispered, "She carries both His Majesty's favor… and her father's name. Few dare oppose her openly, my Lady."
Yi's laugh rang out, sharp and mocking. "Yes, the only daughter of the Great General Wei—shielded by her bloodline, flaunting her seal, and cradled in the Emperor's arms. She thinks that makes her untouchable." Her eyes narrowed, dark as storm clouds. "But this is not the battlefield. This is the harem. And here, even generals' daughters can be buried without a trace."
With a violent sweep of her arm, she sent scrolls and ornaments crashing to the ground. "Summon my allies. Let them know—if Wei Lan wants to play ruler of the inner court, then let us show her what it means to stand alone against whispers and venom."
Her bitter laughter filled the room, twisting into the shadows of the chamber.
Back in her pavilion, Wei Lan dismissed the court attendants one by one until only her trusted maid remained. The incense had burned low, its thin smoke curling into the night air as she called softly,
"Bring out the chest of my dowry and the betrothal gifts that came with the imperial decree."
The maid bowed and, with the help of eunuchs, dragged forward a series of lacquered chests—each marked with the seal of the Wei household or the Emperor's dragon emblem.
Wei Lan sat at the side table, her night robe draped loosely about her, brush still in hand from revising palace accounts. One by one, she ordered the lids opened.
Silk upon silk spilled out, embroidered with cranes and phoenixes. Boxes of jade hairpins, gold bangles, and pearls gleamed in the lamplight. But her sharp eyes did not linger on beauty. She searched with the cool precision of a commander taking inventory of supplies.
"These three bolts of brocade—mark them for court attire. Those ingots of silver—set them aside for emergencies. The jade ornaments may be gifted to strengthen ties with lower-ranked concubines' attendants. And the betrothal gifts…" Her tone paused, calm yet firm. "Record them separately. Those are the Emperor's acknowledgment of me. They must not be touched lightly."
The maid scribbled quickly, almost overwhelmed by her mistress's clarity.
Wei Lan's gaze moved over the wealth stacked high in the pavilion. She thought not of vanity, but of weapons—how resources could be wielded as deftly as any blade.
A soldier counts rations before marching. A consort counts silver before fighting the harem.
Her lips curved faintly, though her eyes stayed cold. "From today, not a single coin from my dowry will be wasted. Let us see how long Consort Yi's allies can fight when their purses run dry."
Wei Lan closed the final chest, her brush strokes marking down the last of the records. With a flick of her sleeve, she signaled the maids to set everything back in order.
"Now," her voice carried low but firm, "have the pavilion inspected again."
The chief maid looked startled. "My lady, it has already been searched before you entered—"
Wei Lan's gaze cut across her, steady and unyielding. "Once is not enough. From this moment on, I want every corridor, every storeroom, and every garden path checked at random hours. No servant, eunuch, or maid enters or leaves this place without record. Anyone found sneaking about—" Her tone sharpened. "—will answer directly to me."
The maid trembled, then quickly bowed. "Yes, my lady."
Wei Lan leaned back slightly, the lamplight glinting off her eyes, dark and keen like steel beneath silk.
The battlefield may be gone, but the harem has its own frontlines. And I will not be caught unguarded.
She tapped her finger on the side table, adding quietly, "Listen carefully to everything that moves within these walls. Every whisper, every step. Be my ears in this place. Remember—loyalty is rewarded, betrayal is crushed."
The servants chorused in obedience, yet as they scurried out, a hush fell over the pavilion.
Wei Lan picked up the brush again, calm and composed, but the air around her had shifted. Her pavilion was no longer just the Emperor's gift to a consort—it was a fortress, and she its commanding general.
Across the palace, in the Orchid Pavilion, chaos raged.
Concubine Yi's delicate hands—once praised for their elegance—now hurled a porcelain vase against the floor. It shattered into jagged shards, scattering like the splintering of her pride.
"That mere daughter of a general—controlling my harem?!" Her voice cracked with fury, eyes burning red. She swept an entire tea set off the table, sending the pieces crashing to the ground.
Her head maid knelt, trembling. "Your Ladyship, please calm yourself. If His Majesty were to hear—"
"Silence!" Yi snarled, the jeweled pins in her hair trembling with the force of her rage. "Do you think I will sit quietly while she parades around as if she were born an Empress?"
Her chest heaved as she paced, silk skirts trailing across the wreckage of broken porcelain. Unlike Wei Lan's composed poise, Yi's beauty twisted in anger, her face pale yet flushed with venom.
"Go," she hissed suddenly, leaning close to her trembling maid. "Find out who she trusts, who serves her. I want eyes on every step she takes, every word she speaks. If she dares to cut down my influence…" Her lips curved into a cold smile. "…then I will cut her down first."
The maid kowtowed, barely daring to breathe.
Concubine Yi sat down heavily on her couch, but her fingers were clenched so tight around her silk sleeve that the fabric wrinkled. The soft glow of the lanterns threw shadows across her face, deepening the hatred that coiled in her chest.
While Wei Lan was fortifying her pavilion into a fortress, Concubine Yi was plotting her first counterstrike.