The Palace of Flowing Water—Si Shui Dian—was the coldest, most desolate place in the entire harem.
Its name came from a verse: "Time flows like water." For the women exiled here, time indeed flowed away into nothingness.
Once sent to Si Shui Dian, almost no one ever returned. Within months, most lost their minds.
No silks, no jewels—only cracked walls and a courtyard full of broken, laughing ghosts wearing human faces.
On her third day there, Ning Zhiqing sat on the high threshold, staring blankly at the courtyard.
A group of mad concubines huddled together, combing their white hair and giggling mindlessly.
Her lips pressed tight. The longer she looked, the deeper her fear grew—not fear of the cold or hunger, but of the day she might become one of them: empty-eyed, laughing at nothing, a hollow echo of herself.
"Lost in thought?"
The soft, clear voice pulled her back. She turned her head, smiled faintly. "Good morning, Lady Lin."
"Not morning—the sun's already high," Axin replied mildly. "Come."
The blunt reply should've been deflating, but Ning Zhiqing's spirits lifted. Yesterday's conversation still lingered in her mind—Lady Lin's question: "Do you want to be Empress?"
At the time, she'd thought it absurd. Later, when Axin said, "Then rule from behind the curtain instead," she hadn't been so sure. Something about the calm certainty in her eyes had made it feel real.
But she wasn't even touched by the Emperor. No son, no heir—how could she "rule from behind the curtain"?
She followed Axin into her quarters. In daylight, she saw clearly—this place was even barer than her own. Yet every corner was spotless, every blanket neatly folded, everything clean despite age and wear. It didn't look like a home for a fallen noblewoman—it looked like a scholar's retreat, or the quarters of a woman who lived by quiet discipline.
Axin shut the door.
Ning Zhiqing sat stiffly. "Lady Lin, you weren't joking yesterday?"
"I don't joke."
She took a deep breath. "As long as you can keep my father safe, I'll do whatever you ask."
"Good."
Axin's lips curved slightly. She opened a cabinet and took out paper, brushes, and ink.
Ning Zhiqing's eyes widened—she recognized the tools, though she could barely read.
Her mother had died young. Her father, the great General Ning, was a rough man—illiterate but loyal, elevated only because he once saved the late emperor's life. A farmer turned warrior, he rose to fame as the empire's greatest frontier general.
He'd brought his daughter to the capital, but with no wife and no learning himself, he'd left her untaught. The young Ning Zhiqing had been a wild beauty—brash, whip in hand, terrorizing the streets. Later, as the Emperor's favored concubine, she'd thought palace life meant luxury: fine clothes, food, and jewels.
She'd been happy enough—until she learned she was just a shield for Bai Xi, the Emperor's true obsession.
Now she sat in exile, stripped of everything.
"From today," said Axin, "you'll learn to read."
Ning Zhiqing stared at the dense black characters crawling like ants across the page, her head spinning.
Still, she nodded. "Alright."
Satisfied, Axin said nothing more. She could have simply given her power, lifted her up instantly—but that would mean nothing.
Things too easily gained are never cherished.
Besides, Axin wanted to watch her grow.
She liked this woman's stubborn soul—the one that had awakened her.
Every time she left a world, she sank into that endless dark void, asleep, empty, timeless. She remembered many awakenings before, always losing the memories that once filled her with joy. Maybe they were still somewhere deep inside her, out of reach.
This time, she wanted to stay a little longer.
"Do you know how to write your name?"
Ning Zhiqing nodded timidly. "I recognize it. Can't write it."
Axin spread the paper, ground the ink, and placed the brush in her trembling hand. "I'll teach you."
Then she covered Ning Zhiqing's hand with her own—cool, slender fingers guiding hers—and together they traced the characters "寧芷青".
They were shaky, uneven, half hers, half Axin's, but when she saw them, her eyes lit up.
"Try yourself."
She tried—and failed miserably. The result looked like tangled weeds.
"I'm hopeless."
"Walkers learn by falling," Axin said. "No one is born knowing."
The even, gentle tone left no room for defiance. Ning Zhiqing bit her lip. "Alright. I'll practice."
By noon, she could at least write something legible.
"Lady Lin," she asked suddenly, "my father… will he be safe?"
"Don't worry," Axin said. "I've already sent him a message. He won't return to the capital. He knows the plan."
"You—what?" Ning Zhiqing shot to her feet. "You sent a message? How?"
Before she could ask further, a small bird flew through the window, circled once, and landed on Axin's shoulder.
Ning Zhiqing gaped. That wasn't a pigeon—it was too small, too quick.
And messenger birds were forbidden; archers shot them on sight.
"Was that… how you sent it?"
Axin smiled faintly. "Yes."
"What is it?"
"A messenger bird."
"But how did it avoid the archers?"
No answer—only a calm gesture. Axin tied a new letter to the bird's leg, whispered, "Go."
The bird nuzzled her finger once, then vanished into the sky.
"Where—?" Ning Zhiqing leaned out the window, but it was gone.
"They say," Axin murmured behind her, "these birds fly so high they vanish from sight. Long ago, emperors feared them—sent men to slaughter every last one. Few remain now."
Ning Zhiqing blinked. "I'd never heard that story."
Axin handed her a book. "You will. It's in here. Find it for me—within a month."
Her jaw dropped at the thickness of the tome. "A month?! That's impossible!"
"Your father is waiting," Axin said softly. "The Emperor and Bai Xi are watching. Every day you delay, danger grows."
That silenced her.
She hugged the heavy book to her chest. "I understand."
"Don't be disheartened," Axin said, smiling faintly. "Once you're Empress Dowager, you can have others read to you."
Ning Zhiqing laughed despite herself—then shivered. Even laughing felt cold in the Cold Palace.
At noon, the food came.
One bowl of watery porridge, a lump of sour cornbread.
Ning Zhiqing grimaced, biting down—and gagged at the rancid taste.
The serving maid sneered. "Oh, our precious Noble Consort still thinks she's in her golden palace? This is Si Shui Dian! Be glad you even have food."
She snatched back half the cornbread and the porridge, handing them to a mad concubine who gobbled it down, giggling.
"If you don't like it," the maid said coldly, "then don't eat next time. Let that be a lesson, Your Grace."
Ning Zhiqing stood frozen, fists clenched, as the woman left.
The laughter of the madwomen echoed around her. For the first time, she realized how truly powerless she was.
A shadow fell over her.
"Get up," Axin said.
She wiped her tears, took the offered hand, and rose. Her eyes hardened as she looked toward the sealed palace gate. "I, Ning Zhiqing, will leave this place someday. I'll become Empress Dowager. I'll rule the court."
Axin smiled slightly. "Then start with your pen."
She led her back inside.
Ning Zhiqing sat down and picked up the brush again, her stomach growling.
"Hungry?"
"…No."
"Really?"
Her eyes darted away. "…Yes."
"Wait here."
Axin opened the cabinet and brought out two white steamed buns and a bowl of meat.
Ning Zhiqing's eyes widened. "Where did you—"
"Eat first," Axin said simply.
Tears pricked her eyes. "Don't risk it again. If they catch you…"
"They won't."
"But I'm scared."
Ning Zhiqing bit into the bun, voice muffled. "If something happens to you, what'll I do? I'll learn, I promise. I'll study. I'll be worthy. When I become Empress Dowager, I'll protect you forever."
Axin smiled softly. "Eat. Then we'll discuss the next step."
Meanwhile, in the Imperial Hall, Helian Zheng frowned over a report.
"The border tribes are restless again?" he muttered. "Then I can't recall General Ning yet. If I bring him back now, the frontier will crumble. I'll summon him after the rebellion's crushed—then deal with him."
He smirked. "As for his daughter, let her rot in the Cold Palace. That will teach her what luxury costs."
At that same moment, Bai Xi listened to her system's report:
[The border uprising ruined the plan, but don't worry, host. Once the general is recalled, the Emperor will execute him. You'll be promoted to Noble Consort—then to Imperial Consort.]
[Why not Empress directly?] she snapped.
[Complete the chain first. Reach Imperial Consort, and you'll get a reward pack—including Birth Pill—guaranteed to give you a son.]
That soothed her anger.
[Good. Once I have a prince, I'll control everything. When he takes the throne, I'll be Empress Dowager myself. Then we'll see who's untouchable.]
Three months passed.
Ning Zhiqing had long finished the Messenger Bird tale and could now read and write almost fluently.
Axin no longer drilled her letters, instead handing her discarded memorials from the court. She made Ning Zhiqing read them, analyze them, argue them. Her insight sharpened; her voice grew steady.
And whenever Axin smiled in approval, her heart fluttered inexplicably.
That afternoon, Ning Zhiqing looked up from her writing and saw Axin sitting nearby, eyes closed, smiling faintly—as if dreaming. Curious, she leaned closer.
Suddenly those eyes opened. Axin caught her wrist. "Finished?"
"Y–yes."
"Were you dreaming?"
A quiet laugh. "Something better than a dream."
"What?"
"It's Helian Zheng's thirtieth birthday soon," Axin said, tone mild but eyes glinting. "A fine day for a surprise performance."
Ning Zhiqing blinked. "What's so special about that? Are they giving out fresh buns instead of sour ones?"
Axin chuckled. "You only ever think about food."
She took Ning Zhiqing's hand. "Come. Time to meet our next ally."
They walked to a far corner of Si Shui Dian, where a frail old concubine sat with a small, ragged boy—no more than five years old. The woman suddenly shrieked, snatched the boy's cornbread, and ran off laughing.
The boy stared at his empty hands, then burst into tears.
"Want to eat?"
He stopped crying and nodded. "Yes."
"Then do as I say," Axin said gently. "You'll never go hungry again."
He blinked up at her. "What do I have to do?"
"Be Emperor."
The boy gaped, stunned. "E–Emperor?" He slapped himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
Back in their quarters, Ning Zhiqing was still stunned. "Lady Lin… he's Helian Zheng's son?"
"No," Axin said, her eyes curving in amusement. "But he will be."
"What?"
"I learned recently—he's the late Empress's secret child, hidden here. But his father was a guard, not the Emperor."
She smiled faintly. "All of us here were wronged. He'll avenge his mother, you'll avenge yourself. He'll be Emperor; you'll be Empress Dowager. Perfect symmetry."
Ning Zhiqing: "…"
If Helian Zheng ever found out, she thought numbly, he'd probably die of rage on the spot.