The following morning, Li Yue awoke to a commotion outside her quarters. Servants whispered, their voices sharp with disdain.
"Lady Li again? What use is she? The emperor doesn't even remember her name.""She's lucky she still has a roof over her head."
Li Yue pushed the door open. Their laughter died instantly. She stood tall, her back straight, her gaze cold. In the past, she would have lowered her head and retreated. But today, she refused to be small.
"Is this how palace servants conduct themselves?" Her voice rang clear, startling in its authority. "Do you think no one hears your venom?"
The maids froze. One tried to stammer an excuse, but Li Yue's sharp glare silenced her.
"Begone," she said. "If I hear your voices again, I will see to it you are reassigned to the kitchens."
The servants scattered like frightened birds. An Ruo, who had watched the entire scene, gaped. "My Lady… you've changed."
Li Yue allowed herself a small smile. "I have simply remembered who I am. Even a forgotten concubine is still above a servant."
But inside, she knew it wasn't pride that drove her—it was survival. She couldn't allow others to see her weakness. Weakness was blood in the water, and the palace was filled with sharks.
That evening, she attended the empress's tea gathering. Normally, she would have been invisible, sitting at the edge while other consorts boasted of their beauty and influence. This time, she observed carefully.
Consort Lin, with her calculating smile, always sought to provoke quarrels. Concubine Mei, though loud, was easily manipulated. The empress herself hid her power behind calm eyes, but Li Yue knew she held the keys to the inner palace.
When Consort Lin sneered, "Lady Li, why does His Majesty never visit your chambers? Have you grown so plain he cannot remember you?" the gathering erupted in laughter.
Li Yue lifted her cup, her expression serene. "His Majesty is busy governing an empire. I would not trouble him with petty demands for attention. Some of us," she let her gaze flick toward Lin, "know the difference between love and burden."
The laughter shifted—this time, against Consort Lin. Faces turned curious, measuring Li Yue anew.
She had struck a blow without raising her voice.
The empress's lips curved ever so slightly, as though amused. "Lady Li speaks wisely. Not every concubine understands restraint."
Li Yue lowered her gaze, hiding the spark of triumph in her eyes. A pawn no more, she thought. From this day forward, I will play the game.
Late that night, back in her chambers, Li Yue sat by the window, stroking An Ruo's hand. "Listen carefully," she whispered. "Never eat or drink what others bring without my word. And never wander alone."
An Ruo nodded nervously. "Yes, My Lady. But why?"
Li Yue's eyes darkened. Memories of poison, betrayal, and blood flashed before her. "Because in this palace, every smile hides a dagger. And I refuse to lose you again."
The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across her face. She was still weak, still vulnerable—but no longer blind.
The forgotten concubine had awoken. And with her awakening, the first cracks in the palace's cruel game began to show.