In no time, the news of what happened with the third royal consort had spread across the Beiping Empire. Everywhere was silent, with only hushed whispers and secret glances exchanged. The other two female royal consorts, who had already been living in fear before Zhan's arrival, were now thrown into an even deeper terror. Their lives had always felt like a countdown to death, and this new turn only confirmed their fears.
When news came that King Yibo was to marry again, their first reaction had been pity for whoever the groom would be. But now, hearing of the state Zhan was in since arriving yesterday, it was clear to them that their own deaths were only a matter of time.
Every suspicion that could be raised against the maid Jaza and the other two attendants who entered Zhan's chamber was confirmed, yet they refused to reveal who had instructed them. They kept blaming Diwa. But Diwa swore with tears that he was innocent, that they were falsely accusing him.
The punishments were so severe that the servants could barely breathe. The imperial jailers, knowing that their lives were needed more than their deaths, finally lessened the torture.
The trusted eunuch of Empress Dowager Taihou hurried back to report the situation to her. She remained silent, her expression unreadable, before turning toward Jasrah, who was still by her side.
Understanding the meaning in her sister's gaze, Jasrah looked at the eunuch and said, "Ghazi, keep them under the strictest guard until tomorrow."
"It shall be done, Great Noble lady," the eunuch answered respectfully, bowing deeply before straightening his sword and leaving.
The Royal Consort Zhan Ruilan
At first, Zhan could still move a little and speak faintly. Soon, even that failed...his breathing weakened, slipping away as if it would leave his body at any moment. Physicians, both men and women, surrounded him, but their efforts brought no change. Instead, his condition worsened. Hours passed, and the growing despair began to terrify everyone.
The Beiping Empire fell into absolute silence. No one dared move unnecessarily, and even the sound of breathing felt heavy. Something that had never happened in the history of the palace had now taken place: King Yibo did not appear.
By afternoon, he was still unseen. Night fell, and still there was no word or presence from him.
As for Zhan, he was stretched out upon the bed, his body pale and lifeless as if burned, skin drained of color, lips dry. Only his shallow breaths proved he was still alive. The physicians, having exhausted their skills, stepped aside and waited.
At four o'clock, Empress Dowager Taihou ordered that Zhan be moved to her own quarters.
According to her command, Zhan was carried into her private chambers...rooms into which no one but King Yibo and Jasrah had ever entered. This act shocked the palace staff, confirming that this consort held a special significance to Empress Dowager Taihou.
No other royal consort, even those who had lost their lives within the palace, had ever received such concern from her. Today, for the first time, tears slid down the Dowager's face, her sorrow openly revealed. Indeed, Zhan's suffering was pitiable....unlike the other consorts, whose deaths had come quietly once sent to the King's chamber.
Zhan, however, had not even completed a single full day in the palace, nor the grand wedding celebrations arranged for him, before finding himself in a state where death seemed kinder than survival.
At about eight that evening, as Empress Dowager Taihou presided in her great third sitting room, Empress Dowager Cixi arrived with her attendants to see Zhan.
She was the first wife of the late King Murong. A dignified woman of imposing presence, she had once held the title of Dowager herself. By tradition in the Beiping Empire, only the wife who bore the heir to the throne could rightfully be called Empress Dowager. Usually, this was the first wife.
But with King Murong, things had been different. His first wife, Liu Mei, never bore him children. She miscarried once at four months, and after that, she conceived no more. Despite this, she held great influence and authority, second only to Empress Dowager Taihou. She carried herself without visible malice, though anyone who underestimated her would be mistaken.
She had once been wed on the same day as Taihou, both entering the palace together as royal consorts. Yet Taihou soon surpassed her in power, her fierce jealousy and fiery temper making her feared more than any other woman in the court. Though she was ruthless, Taihou was also generous to those loyal to her, earning genuine devotion from many servants.
When she gave birth to Crown Prince Yibo, the title of Empress rightfully fell to her. Thus, she became Queen Taihou. Still, King Murong's mother, Empress Dowager Ruyan, ordered that Liu Mei be addressed as Empress Cixi.
This command deeply angered Taihou, though she could do nothing against it. Instead, she channeled her resentment into even harsher jealousy toward Cixi, who in turn outwardly acted as though nothing was amiss. But beneath the surface…
As Dowager Taihou sat in her grand sitting room, she did not acknowledge the entrance of Dowager Cixi. Instead, she raised two fingers slightly, a signal that sent her attendants hurrying out in silence.
Dowager Cixi, with calm poise, took one of the carved chairs opposite and gestured for her own attendants to leave as well. Soon, the two dowagers were alone. She let a faint smile touch her lips, masking the sting of Taihou's dismissal, and broke the silence with a courteous inquiry about her health.
Dowager Taihou, her voice restrained and regal, answered coolly, as though she might dismiss even this question. Cixi's smile deepened, swallowing her displeasure. She turned the conversation to Zhan, speaking with sympathy for his condition and suggesting that perhaps a Doctor should be summoned to uncover whether his ailment was something beyond what they assumed.
For the first time, Taihou lifted her sharp, commanding eyes and fixed them upon Cixi. Her face tightened as she exhaled, her words heavy with meaning:
"The birth of Beiping's heir from my womb is a destiny written long before any schemer thought to oppose it. They failed in the past, and they will fail again. As the son of King Murong was born of royal blood, so too shall another be born of mine. None may erase what is sealed by lineage and will."
Cixi felt her throat tighten but disguised it with a serene smile. She inclined her head slightly, then rose as though to take her leave. After a few steps, she paused, still facing away, and said with quiet grace:
"If King Yibo is indeed the son of a late king without question, then we too share in this hope. As mothers of this household, our hearts hold only one wish: for the well-being and recovery of the royal consort."
Those last words struck deeply into Taihou's chest, though she betrayed nothing on her face. Before she could reply, the hall was disturbed by the arrival of Danish-Ara, the third wife of the late King Murong. She entered with her own attendants, nearly crossing paths with Cixi. Their eyes met—Cixi's smile cool, Danish-Ara's half-curved lips betraying little warmth. Danish-Ara greeted her with respect, though Cixi brushed past her with a single glance before sweeping from the sitting room.
Unlike with Cixi, Dowager Taihou offered Danish-Ara a rare reception. Though Danish-Ara too was a rival wife in the imperial household, she bowed deeply and greeted Taihou with solemn reverence, asking after Zhan's condition.
Taihou, still reclined as when Cixi left, answered with a softer tone, tempered by weariness. Danish-Ara expressed sorrow for Zhan's state, her words laced with sympathy yet sharp enough to assign blame in unseen directions.
Taihou's lips curved faintly, a noblewoman's acknowledgment. "My thanks," she murmured, her expression barely shifting.
Danish-Ara offered a half-smile, her gaze darting sideways before she lowered her head in a gesture of humility. "This matter concerns us all, Your Grace. For he is our Ruilan. We can only pray for resolution."
Within, Taihou found herself unexpectedly pleased by Danish-Ara's words, for among all the imperial women she had rarely found cause to quarrel with her since their youth.
Yet Danish-Ara was not as simple as she appeared. A woman of subtle cunning, she often cloaked her intentions with excessive courtesy. Even within the palace, she surprised many by the deference she outwardly showed toward both Dowager Cixi and Dowager Taihou. Not even Royal consort Xuan Ji, the youngest and fourth wife of late King Murong, had reason to clash openly with her. Indeed, in her earlier years, Dowager Ryan...mother of King Murong....had favored Danish-Ara, praising her grace and urging the others to emulate her composure.
Now, even with her failing health, Dowager Ruyan received more frequent visits from Danish-Ara than from others, a fact Taihou did not overlook.
After some silence, Danish-Ara shifted as if to request permission to see Zhan, asking instead if Royal Consort Xuan Ji had visited yet.
Taihou gave her a hard, downward glance, lips pressed tight. She had never spoken of others in such a way, not even to her closest attendants. To do so would place them as equals in her eyes....and that was something she would never allow.
Danish-Ara forced a brittle smile, hiding the sting. Bowing her head, she murmured, "I'll take my leave, Your Grace."
Taihou inclined her head slightly in dismissal. Danish-Ara clenched her jaw as she turned and swept out, her attendants following closely.
Yet even as she departed, Danish-Ara's mind churned with Cixi's final words...those seven deliberate syllables: "Well-being and recovery of the royal consort." They echoed in her heart, demanding meaning.
Through the night, others of the imperial clan came in waves...mothers, uncles, cousins, elders...each hoping to see Zhan, though few were permitted beyond Taihou's threshold. She greeted them all with the same composure, though her mind lingered only on Cixi's words.
By the time darkness swallowed the palace, she dismissed her attendants. Alone at last, she paced the length of her chamber, her hands clasped behind her back, her thoughts circling endlessly. She was a woman weighed by power, suspicion, and a truth she dared not speak aloud.
- - - -
Night had fallen deep, and the Beiping Empire lay wrapped in silence. Only the soft breeze stirred the treetops, while the palace guards patrolled quietly, their lanterns swinging in the shadows. Among them, Ghazi....the trusted aide of King Yibo...paced tirelessly around the palace, ensuring every corner of the sovereign's residence was secured.
Inside the luxurious chamber of Dowager Taihou, Zhan lay stretched upon the grand bed, his eyes closed as though lifeless. Suddenly, his body tensed as if pricked by unseen needles. A faint glow began to seep from his skin, gradually enveloping him until his entire figure shimmered in white radiance.
Only Jasrah was with him. Dozing lightly on a side couch, she twitched and turned, caught in the grip of a nightmare. Zhan's sudden scream tore through the silence, his body convulsing so violently that the bed trembled with him. The flare of light grew brighter, until even the chamber's light flickered and dimmed.
Jasrah bolted awake in terror. Heart racing, she stumbled backward, pressing herself against the wall, her trembling fingers fumbling for the door. She could barely breathe as the sight before her grew worse: Zhan began coughing harshly, blood spilling from his mouth, his nose, even his ears.
Panic-stricken, Jasrah screamed the name of Dowager Taihou, her voice cracking with fear. She clawed at the door, but it would not open.
In her own room, Dowager Taihou had not been asleep...worry weighed too heavily upon her mind. At first, she thought the cries were part of her imagination. But as they persisted, echoing faintly through the corridors, she threw on a robe over her nightclothes and stepped out.
The moment Jasrah saw her, she collapsed into the Dowager's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Taihou held her gently, stroking her back, whispering soft comfort until the girl could finally speak through her tears.
"What happened?" Taihou asked firmly, her eyes fixed on the chamber door.
Jasrah pointed inside, her words broken and frantic. With regal composure, Taihou entered the room.
There on the bed lay Zhan, motionless, the earlier convulsions gone, the glow around him faded. He looked fragile, his long hair spilled across the pillow, his youthful face pale yet strikingly beautiful despite the torment he had endured. Taihou's heart clenched with an unexpected rush of pity...and affection.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she gently brushed his hair away, her voice low but resolute.
"Son, endure a little longer. You will survive this. They will never defeat you."
Though Zhan's body was wracked with pain, he heard her clearly. He had succeeded in awakening his golden core, but the backlash was merciless. Even so, her words reached him like a balm. For the first time, Zhan felt warmth stir in his chest....a deep respect for the woman he had once viewed with caution.
He managed a faint smile of resolve, silently vowing to endure.
★★――★★
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the palace, Cao's voice rose like thunder.
"They ruined everything! They destroyed our plan! Do you realize how rare this chance was?!"
The inner one cowered, trembling, fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the floor. "Forgive me, Cao. I too am shaken by this disaster...."
"I want no excuses!" Cao's sharp retort cut her off. "I warned you not to entrust delicate work to incompetents. Yet you did. And now we pay the price!"
The kneeling woman flinched, opening her mouth to plead further, but Cao vanished in a flash of rage, leaving the chamber vibrating with her fury.
The inner one slumped, clutching her head, despair burning in her chest. Why must this boy cause such chaos? Why can't he be erased as easily as one swat of the hand? Her thoughts darkened, circling in bitterness. Does Cao fear him? Is that why she wavers?
★★―★★
The next morning, the entire palace awoke to fresh turmoil. Zhan's condition had worsened. Before dawn, he had been moved to the palace clinic as blood seeped from nearly every part of his body...mouth, nose, eyes, even his navel.
Jasrah and Dowager Taihou never left his side, their anxiety reaching breaking point. Though everyone knew this was no ordinary illness, the physicians still rushed to stem the bleeding, their robes stained crimson as they worked.
But time dragged on, and their efforts seemed in vain. By the hour of the morning sun, Zhan's body had weakened dangerously, his pulse faint, his skin ghostly pale.
The empire itself seemed to hold its breath.
"Bari-Hamshira! I think we should also allow those traditional healers waiting outside to try their luck, since the court physicians have not succeeded within the palace."
The Dowager Taihou, weighed down by the burdens of the Beiping inner palace, had not stepped out of her chamber all day. Her red-rimmed eyes lifted toward her third younger sister, Zuima. With weary grace, she nodded.
"That is a wise suggestion. I was so distraught that the thought did not occur to me. Inform Ghazi to deliver word to Master Han. But let everything be done with utmost secrecy, lest our enemies exploit this moment to shatter the little strength we have left for the boy."
Zuima bowed her head and quickly departed to carry out the order.
Village of Yizhou
The young man hurried as though wings carried his feet, stumbling at times, steadying himself by clutching anything within reach. Breathless, he reached the home of the elder everyone called Elder Guang, pounding on the gate with a loud greeting four times over, without waiting for a reply.
Inside, Elder Guang...known simply as Grandfa....paused from his delicate work of stitching horse trappings. He exchanged a glance with Wei Po, who was sweeping the yard.
"That sounded like someone calling from the gate," she muttered.
He set aside his long needle, rose with a sigh, and just as the fourth shout echoed harshly through the air, he grumbled, "Some people have no sense of measure. Such shouting could wake the dead."
Stepping out, he found the caller.
"A-Yuan! So it was you making all that noise. What's the matter?"
"Forgive me, Elder," A-Yuan panted, bowing respectfully. "I had no choice. I bring an urgent message from Master Han." He held out a sealed letter.
Elder Guang took it, turning it over in his hands before waving the young man inside. "Come, let us speak within."
Inside, Wei Po served water while Elder Guang read. A faint, sorrowful smile curved his lips as he shook his head.
"I see. I will not go myself. Instead, you shall carry my response."
Before A-Yuan could protest, the elder disappeared into his inner room, returning twenty minutes later with a leather satchel.
"Deliver this to Master Han, and tell him I send my respects and a quick recovery wishes to the boy."
A-Yuan bowed deeply. "It will be done, Elder. May you rest well."
The elder only nodded with that same faint smile. After A-Yuan departed, Wei Po.... troubled... spoke softly.
"He, too, has been touched by them, hasn't he?"
Elder Guang resumed his sewing without meeting her gaze.
"Such matters never leave a soul untouched, especially for reasons best left unsaid."
Wei Po pressed further. "What reasons?"
"Too many questions, woman. Pass me the thread from the bed."
She fell silent, but unease lingered in her chest. Their poor grandson suffer in silent.
The Palace
By the time A-Yuan reached the palace at the second hour, rumors had already begun to spread.... whispers that Zhan Ruilan was already death. Dozens of healers had gathered, each attempting their own methods, but none could halt the flow of blood.
Master Han exhaled heavily after reading Elder Guang's reply.
"I knew the old man would not come."
"But you still sent for him, Baba?"
"He deserved to be asked."
"Then why would he refuse, when he clearly understands what is happening here?"
Master Han fixed his son with a steady gaze. "Do not presume to know what he knows. He has no part in this directly... yet because of the gift bestowed upon him, he senses things beyond us. Still, he avoids such matters deliberately."
"But Father...."
"This is no time for questions, A-Yuan. Come, let us see what else can be done."
Though A-Yuan followed, doubts swirled in his heart. His father was a famed physician, skilled in both traditional medicine and hidden arts. Yet for some reason, he held Elder Guang in such regard that no one else could explain. To most, Elder Guang was only a quiet craftsman who stitched horse gear. But A-Yuan knew his father saw far more.
The Royal Consort's Chamber
Zhan Ruilan's breathing was now sustained only with the aid of devices. Blood still seeped relentlessly from his ears, though the streams from his eyes, nose, and mouth had been contained. Master Han led the efforts, directing the other healers, working tirelessly alongside Jasrah, who assisted him.
Even now, Zhan lay behind walls of glass, unseen and untouched, as if fate itself kept him out of reach.
KING YIBO
I am not the only one... surely the readers, too, are wondering: in all this chaos, where exactly is King Yibo, the sovereign of Beiping Empire, ruler of the realm?
The answer is: he is within the palace. Yet since yesterday evening, after his return from the city, not a single person has heard his voice or seen him move.
His rare outings are usually for matters of state, but King Yibo has a hidden passage that connects his chambers to the far reaches of Beiping. Through it, he can come and go without anyone in the palace catching sight of him.
For this reason, even within the court itself, very few people have ever truly seen his face. Everyone is certain, however, that he knows of everything unfolding inside the Palace....why he chooses silence remains a mystery.
Yesterday, news had reached Dowager Taihou that King Yibo had not emerged from his chambers. At first, she dismissed it, believing he was sulking over the marriage to Zhan, a union he had wished to resist.
But today her concern was different... more pressing. Without delay she gave orders for a meeting with him. As his mother and Dowager, even she did not have the right to summon him whenever she wished. By law, tradition, and the sheer power of the throne, her audience with the King was limited to one formal meeting each month.
Yet there had been nights when King Yibo himself, in disguise, slipped into her quarters under the cover of darkness... his presence undetected by all but her. No one in the palace knew of these secret visits.
Though uncertain whether she would be granted audience now, the Dowager's knowledge that the imperial ministers also required word from him gave her hope. Fortune was on her side: less than twenty minutes later, Ghazi arrived with confirmation that her request had been accepted.
The ministers, too, had been restless. Since yesterday, the King had not appeared in the Third Sitting room. Meals prepared for him were taken away untouched, from last night through the day.
Thus, in full regalia and accompanied by her retinue of attendants, Dowager Taihou set out for the private quarters of King Yibo.
NB
Dowager Cixi, first wife
Dowager Taihou, second wife...Yibo's mother.
Danish-Ara, third wife
Royal consort Xuan Ji, fourth wife of Late King Murong... Yibo's father.
Dowager Ruyan, Late King Murong mother, Yibo's grandmother.
In case you're confused.😄
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛