That night was one that Zhan would never forget for as long as he lived. Not because something new happened after the tragedy, but because what had already happened was enough to carve a permanent scar in his heart.
For one full day, Zhan remained restless, consumed by grief and an aching loneliness. He was gone for his family.... departed forever. Even at his burial, they'll not been allowed to draw near, not even to glance at his body one last time. That pain gnawed at him endlessly.
Sleep was impossible. Not even the weariness of exhaustion could drag him into slumber that night. The food brought to him after sunset remained untouched, and tears became his only companion. He wept until the night was half gone, then finally dragged himself toward the washroom.

Although fear shadowed his every breath in the vast palace chamber, Zhan forced himself to stay strong outwardly. Every creak, every faint sound made his heart race with the suspicion that someone was coming to end his life.
Eventually, despite his resistance, sleep overpowered him. He collapsed on the thick carpet before his bed and drifted off, breathing heavily in reluctant slumber.
He slept deeply for a long while until the faint stirring of movement woke him. Slowly opening his weary eyes, Zhan found a tall figure standing before him, head bowed. It was an average older man, though his modest attire revealed he was only a servant of the palace.
Yet, the man carried himself with the quiet dignity of someone holding a higher post.
"Good morning, Your Royal Ruilan," the man greeted him respectfully, breaking Zhan's heavy thoughts.
Zhan blinked, still dazed, before pushing himself upright. He returned the greeting softly, "Good morning, Babah."
The man's expression tightened, his eyes filled with distress. Glancing around nervously, as if afraid someone might overhear, he suddenly fell to his knees. His voice trembled as he spoke, "Please, my lord, never use that title for me again. You are no servant. You are our master. I am the one who should bow before you. My name is Diwa. I am chief among the attendants charged with maintaining this wing of the palace."
He lifted his head slightly. "I have brought your breakfast, and soon, attendants will arrive to prepare you for the day and assist in your needs."
Zhan stared at him silently, his heart twisting with sympathy. He could not bring himself to reply, and instead looked away, unsettled by the thought of how the common people of Beiping endured such servitude under the empire's rule.
Diwa quickly rose and left, only to return a few moments later with two younger men.
"My lord," he explained, "these men will assist in readying you now."
Zhan merely gave them a brief glance and allowed them to proceed. Inside, however, his heart pounded with unease, as though bracing for some unseen danger.
The attendants gently untied the ceremonial bindings around his head, letting his long hair fall free...the same flowing hair most men of Beiping carried with pride.
"May you live long and in health, my lord," one of them murmured reverently. "It is now time for your bath."
Zhan rose to his feet, recalling his grandfather's words of instruction. When they tried to follow him into the bath chamber, he stopped them with a firm hand.
Diwa, kneeling to the side, quickly pleaded, "Please, my lord, allow them to guide you. They will only show you how to use the prepared bath and wash your hair for you."
Zhan shook his head. "Do not worry. I can manage on my own."
With that, he stepped inside and shut the door firmly behind him. His chest tightened as though his heart might burst, a wave of dizziness overtaking him as he placed his foot on the polished floor of the washroom. The scent of fresh herbs from the prepared bath filled the chamber.
Drawing in a shaky breath, he pressed a hand against his chest. Fear gnawed at him, but he forced himself to remain calm. Alone now, Zhan lowered himself onto the stool beside the bath and let his hand rest against his temple. He was not ready for any of this...but he knew he had no choice but to endure.
Even the bath chamber itself now appeared more captivating than before, for it had been decorated with flowers and candles glowing faintly by the side of the jacuzzi. Various jars of scented water and fragrant oils had been placed out for his use, yet his heart resisted the thought of indulging in them. One after another, he pushed the small trays aside and began washing himself, tears slipping silently down his cheeks...tears of pity for his own fate and for his parents, whose condition he no longer knew.
When Zhan stepped out, expecting to meet attendants, he instead found the opposite. The chamber stood empty. Only the delicate fragrance of burning incense lingered faintly in the air.
He exhaled slowly, not because he felt calm, but only because it lightened the weight pressing against his chest.
Nearly five minutes passed with him unable to decide what to do. He did not even know where to begin.
A knock at the door drew his gaze upward. At his soft permission, the door opened, and Diwa, a palace attendant, entered with his head lowered. The moment he stepped inside, he dropped to his knees at the threshold, voice trembling with reverence.
"Your Royal Ruilan! The time has come for your preparations, with the assistance of these men." He gestured behind him.
Zhan kept his eyes on him, lips parting as though to speak, but then he fell silent again. After a pause of thought, he sighed. "I can prepare myself. Let them be."
Diwa pressed his forehead lower to the ground. "Forgive me, Royal Ruilan. The order was given to them from above. For them to refuse would be considered defiance."
A deep ache of pity and restrained frustration rose in Zhan's throat. He swallowed it down and gave a small nod toward Diwa, saying nothing more.
Almost at once, two young attendants entered. Zhan's eyes followed them, soft with sympathy. Out of respect, they dropped to their knees before him, for they were not the same men as earlier.
"Please, rise," Zhan said softly, his tone carrying a weight that made them look up in surprise. Their hearts ached. Though they pitied themselves, they somehow pitied him more. Obeying his words, they stood, their gazes lingering on him with reverence.
Despite his youth, there was something about his presence that demanded respect. And though he was the youngest among the consorts brought into the Beiping Empire, his bearing already outshone them all.
They had prepared him in the manner befitting His Highness Huang Fu, a title worthy of being spoken aloud. His beauty, enhanced by the careful adornments, perfectly matched his elegant form and youthful grace. He looked every inch an Emperor in his own right, even though he was still so young.

Despite the heaviness shadowing his handsome face, it did not diminish the dignity and refined brilliance he carried. The attendants surrounding him couldn't resist stealing glances, unable to hide their awe.
It wasn't that the other consorts before him had lacked charm...far from it. But Zhan had a captivating presence that drew their eyes without explanation. Even he, staring at his own reflection, felt like he was looking at someone else. Not merely because of the gold and diamonds adorning his body, glittering from head to toe, but because of the strangeness of seeing himself transformed this way. For the first time, he felt the weight of being decorated as though he were no longer just himself.
Eunuch Diwa entered quietly after requesting permission, bowing deeply the moment he stepped inside. Though he kept his head lowered, his eyes could not help but flicker toward Zhan's figure, his voice trembling with careful respect as he announced:
"Your Royal Ruilan, it is now time for your breakfast."
Zhan let out a weary breath, already feeling the suffocation of the endless rituals. "I don't need anything to eat, not now," he replied sharply.
Diwa almost broke into tears, his voice shaking. "Forgive me, Your Highness. Even hearing such words from you could bring punishment upon me. And if you refuse your meal, the consequences will not end well for me."
"What nonsense," Zhan thought bitterly, resentment burning in his chest. His hatred for King Yibo and the suffocating power of the court only deepened. Without another word, he stood and motioned for them to leave. Diwa, bowing low again, hurried to obey.
The attendants who had dressed him had already withdrawn. Now, in the small inner hall where Diwa had guided him, the chamber lay quiet, prepared with a lavish spread of dishes...enough, it seemed, for ten men rather than one. For a moment, Zhan wondered whether King Yibo himself might be joining him.
But as he remained seated and saw Diwa quietly beginning to arrange the meal before him, Zhan understood...it was meant solely for him. He said nothing, only watching until the last of the covers were lifted. Then, with a faint glance, he pointed to a single bowl of warm milk and nothing more.
Diwa hesitated, his hands pausing mid-air. He dared a quick glance at Zhan before lowering his eyes again, filling the cup in silence. Placing it before him, Diwa started to withdraw, but Zhan's calm voice stopped him.
"I will not drink it. You may have it instead, Babah."
Diwa froze, his body trembling as he lifted his head in alarm. "M-my lord, such a thing is not within my right."
Zhan's gaze held him...steady, cool, unblinking. Without another word, he rose and began to walk away. Panicked, Diwa dropped to his knees, voice shaking.
"Your royal Ruilan, please… do not say you will take nothing. Everything placed here is by command. Refusal would bring grave consequence."
But Zhan would not be swayed. He left the dinning area, his heart heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Barely five minutes had passed before a group of stern-faced men and woman arrived. Without offering explanation, they presented him with a grand robe of shimmering embroidery, a gift from Empress Dowager Ruyan, and ordered him to change.
Zhan obeyed outwardly, though inwardly unease stirred. He thought surely they meant to present him before the Dowager herself, yet his spirit resisted. When attendants brought forth censers of heavy incense to surround him in fragrance, he raised a hand sharply to halt them.
They exchanged uneasy glances until one finally whispered in a tone of fear, "This is by command of Her Excellency, the Dowager Ruyan."
Zhan's expression hardened, his brows drawn. For the first time since entering this palace, he allowed his voice to carry with quiet authority.
"Then hear my command too...I do not require it. Carry out the next order instead."
A hush fell. None dared to breathe. The weight of his presence alone rooted them where they stood.
But even as Zhan tried to hold his composure, a sharp, searing pain pierced his chest. His breath caught; he pressed a hand against his heart, eyes squeezing shut as his body faltered. He staggered, knees buckling beneath him.
The attendants panicked, scattering in frightened disarray, their limbs trembling. Diwa, waiting anxiously outside, rushed forward at the sound of commotion. "What is happening?" he demanded. No one answered him as they fled.
Alarmed, Diwa hurried to the chamber. His heart lurched at the sight before him...Zhan collapsed on the floor, body wracked with violent shudders, drenched in sweat as though doused in water.
For a desperate instant, Diwa reached out, but fear seized him. His hand hovered, then retreated. He dared not touch the royal consort body of the Emperor. Breathless, he stumbled back, then turned and bolted from the hall, intent on delivering word to the Dowager Taihou....though he knew even reaching her would not be easy.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛