“Your Majesty, the Second Miss Mu is highly skilled in medicine, straightforward and open in her dealings, with no hidden schemes. But since she knows so much, should we send someone to warn her? Otherwise…”
As Wanqing left, the Emperor slammed his hand onto the table in anger. Though his expression remained calm, his eyes burned with unmistakable fury and displeasure.
A figure descended gracefully before him—a man clad in black. The black-clad man looked up at the Emperor and offered his suggestion.
“No need. This girl still has her uses for me. Remember, no one is to touch her without my permission. As for the Empress Dowager’s condition, she can treat it, but with her under our control, what trouble could she possibly stir?”
The Emperor raised a hand to stop the black-clad man’s words, then smirked confidently regarding the matter of the Empress Dowager.
“True enough.”
“One more thing. Investigate the person who delivered osmanthus cakes to the Empress Dowager’s palace yesterday. Scrutinize everyone who entered or left her chambers. Report immediately if you find anyone unusual. Go.”
The black-clad man nodded in agreement. The Emperor, recalling the events of the previous night, gave his orders with grave seriousness. Only after the man departed did he sit back down.
“Who could it be? Who made those osmanthus cakes? Aside from her attendants and him, is there someone else capable of such a thing? Guards—!”
The Emperor murmured to himself, lost in thought over the cake the Empress Dowager had made him taste. His expression darkened as he called out for assistance.
“Nurse Xu, are you certain it was the Empress herself who gave Consort Hui the tonic?”
Back at the Marquis’s residence, Wanqing questioned the now lucid Nurse Xu, who had recounted everything she knew. Hearing the inconsistencies in the story, Wanqing pressed further.
“I saw it with my own eyes. She claimed it was by His Majesty’s decree, saying he had it specially prepared out of concern for Her Highness. But the moment Consort Hui consumed it, she… Oh, Second Miss Mu, Your Highness, her death was so unjust!”
Nurse Xu recounted the events of over a decade ago. She had been one of Consort Hui’s—Wanqing and her siblings’ mother—personal maids. That day, the Consort had been resting peacefully in her Glazed Palace when the Emperor arrived.
An argument erupted between them. Though the maids stood outside, they could hear the heated exchange and the Consort’s sobbing. When they attempted to intervene, they were barred from entering, forced to listen helplessly as the quarrel escalated.
After the Emperor stormed off in rage—marking their first and last argument following his return from quelling the rebellion with Prince An—Nurse Xu found Consort Hui weeping silently. The Consort dismissed her concerns, insisting she was fine. Soon after, the current Empress arrived, claiming the tonic was the Emperor’s order for her to drink and rest.
Suspicious, Nurse Xu even suggested discarding the tonic, but the Consort refused. With tears streaming down her face, she consumed the tonic in despair. Before finishing it, the bowl slipped from her hands as she collapsed, poisoned.
Nurse Xu frantically called for physicians, but the Consort stopped her, smiling bitterly. She knew poison—this one was incurable. Witnessing her mistress’s life fade, blood trickling from her mouth and nose, Nurse Xu was horrified. The Emperor burst in moments later, furious, blaming the servants without question.
Several maids and eunuchs were executed on the spot. As the Emperor ordered Nurse Xu’s death, the dying Consort opened her eyes. Bloodied and weak, she met his gaze with cold detachment and reproach.
“Do you regret it now? Too late. Their deaths are not their fault—it’s yours. Spare her, or I will never forgive you, even in death.” With that, her hand fell limp, and she passed.
“But Nurse Xu, how were you injured? Where were the others who served Consort Hui? How could they allow the current Empress Sun to poison her without interference?”
Wanqing, still puzzled, pressed further.
“Ah, that is a strange tale indeed.” Nurse Xu sighed and continued her account.
“So the Emperor spared you at Consort Hui’s plea, but how did you end up losing your mind afterward?”
Wanqing, heart aching for her mother’s tragic fate—a woman of unparalleled grace and favor, yet doomed to such a cruel end—asked again.
“I, too, have long wondered. As the sole surviving maid, I mourned her as a filial daughter would, even as the Emperor paid his respects. But one night, after he left, his attendants departed, leaving me alone in the Glazed Palace—a place now haunted by death. I wept bitterly, unafraid, until a man and two matrons arrived. They forced a potion down my throat. I fought, but to no avail. When I awoke, I remembered nothing… I…”
Nurse Xu’s voice trembled with grief as she recounted her ordeal.
“A man and two matrons? Did you recognize them? Can you describe their appearances?”
Wanqing glanced at Prince Ning, whose fists clenched in fury at the revelations, and pressed Nurse Xu further.
“I’d never seen them before, but their faces are seared into my memory. Fetch me paper and ink—I’ll draw them for you. Though my skill is modest, I can capture their essence. It was the Consort who taught me to draw. How cruel that I can sketch her killers but never see her again…”
With tears streaming down her face, Nurse Xu took the brush from Honglian and began to sketch, her hands shaking with sorrow and rage.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage