Chapter 80: Entering the Palace (Part Two) [Second Update] Please Subscribe and Vote

Chapter 80 – Entering the Palace (Part Two) [Second Update] Please Subscribe and Vote

With a loud command from Yang Jigao, the Imperial Guards swiftly withdrew their spears, revealing a wide, unobstructed path.

“Thank you, General Yang!”

“Lord Qin, you’re too polite. I only hope that you’ll put in a good word for me with Consort Zhen.”

“But of course! Farewell!”

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Qin Ruoyang led An Ran forward, heading into the imposing palace.

Passing through the main gate, they were greeted by a flawless white jade-paved path, gleaming with a gentle luster. In the distance, palaces shrouded in wisps of mist loomed indistinctly. Phoenixes carved from sandalwood poised to take flight graced the flying eaves; bas-relief windows were crafted from blue tiles; walls were stacked with jade bricks. At the end of the straight road, a vast plaza descended in terraces of polished stone, the centerpiece a massive altar atop which stood a single column engraved with lifelike dragons, facing off against the phoenixes adorning the palace roofs.

In her previous life, An Ran had entered the palace a handful of times, thanks to her general father’s status—attending banquets and strolling the imperial gardens with her mother, who had been close friends with Consort Tan, once favored by the late emperor. But fifteen years had passed; the world was much changed. The resplendent halls remained, but those who walked them were not the same.

Now, a storm of emotion raged in An Ran’s heart. She had always placed all her hatred on Lu Anrong, but wasn’t the one who truly gave the orders seated at the very pinnacle of this palace? Jun Dingyue, should I let you go as well?

Qin Ruoyang walked several paces ahead before noticing An Ran hadn’t followed. Turning, he found her standing in a daze, her gaze fixed toward the direction of the Imperial Study. Had she been here before? Or was she simply curious?

“Miss An, this way!” Qin Ruoyang called, a flicker of suspicion in his heart. There were too many mysteries about An Ran—solving one only led to another.

An Ran snapped from her thoughts, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she nodded and silently followed Qin Ruoyang toward Consort Zhen’s residence.

The path was lined with blooming flowers, rare and splendid, a feast for the eyes. The shaded walkways beneath the trees kept the heat of the blazing sun at bay.

After about half an hour, they arrived at the entrance of Consort Zhen’s quarters—the Palace of the Morning Glow. The grand vermilion-lacquered doors were topped with a black nanmu plaque inlaid with gold, bearing three characters—“Chao Xia Gong”—in bold, flowing script.

An Ran could not help but feel that fate had arranged everything. The Palace of the Morning Glow was once the “Palace of Sunset Radiance,” home to the ill-fated Consort Tan, who was granted death by the late emperor. Who would have thought Jun Dingyue would install Qin Ruoxi here? Would this era’s consort meet the same tragic end as her predecessor? She hoped not—for now, at least, Consort Zhen had treated her well enough.

The palace maids standing at the entrance hurried to announce their arrival. In a moment, one returned and respectfully invited them in.

“Thank you, Your Grace!” Jun Moli and An Ran expressed their gratitude in unison and followed the maid into the main hall.

Consort Zhen was not present. In the lavishly decorated hall stood only a few attendant maids, all graceful and beautiful.

One of the senior maids stepped forward, bowing gently. “Lord Qin, Miss An, please wait a moment. I will inform Her Grace.”

“Thank you, Aunt Wanqing.”

Wanqing quickly withdrew, leaving An Ran to study her surroundings. The bedchamber’s beams were carved sandalwood, the lamps crystal and jade, pearl curtains hung from the windows, and gilded columns supported the ceiling. On the left sat a couch with a jade pillow, covered in soft silk and neatly folded blankets. Overhead hung a massive luminous pearl, glowing like a full moon. The floor was paved with white jade inlaid with golden beads; lotuses carved into the stone seemed to bloom beneath one’s feet. The petals were vivid and lifelike, even the stamens exquisitely detailed. Walking barefoot, the surface felt warm and smooth—each step, a lotus. Such extravagance rivaled even the legendary Lady Pan’s golden lotuses.

An Ran was startled by such opulence. Compared to the late emperor, Jun Dingyue was in no way his inferior.

While she observed, Wanqing had returned, supporting Consort Zhen from the inner chambers. The consort wore a pale green gown, blue peonies embroidered at the cuffs, silver-threaded clouds along the hem, and a broad, pale yellow sash at the chest. Her graceful figure moved like willows in a spring breeze; her hair was styled elegantly, eyebrows gently arched, her eyes brimming with vitality. Her skin was as smooth as warm jade, her lips naturally red and inviting, stray locks of hair framing her cheeks in a way that enhanced her allure. The golden hairpin on her head swayed delicately as she walked.

How could Jun Dingyue not love such a woman?

“Your servant greets Consort Zhen.”

“An Ran, a humble commoner, pays her respects and wishes Your Grace boundless health and peace.”

Seeing the consort take her seat, An Ran immediately knelt to pay her respects, her demeanor impeccable.

Consort Zhen’s eyes sparkled with a gentle smile as she spoke in her melodious voice, “No need for such formality. You’ve waited long enough, Miss An.”

“I dare not, Your Grace. I am unworthy.”

A sense of foreboding flashed through An Ran’s heart, and she remained kneeling, not daring to rise.

She had only just entered the palace and already Qin Ruoxi had given her two warnings. What exactly did she want? Was her aim truly just to have An Ran protect her until she bore the imperial heir?

Qin Ruoyang also observed his sister carefully. Could it be that she had not summoned An Ran just to express gratitude?

News of Consort Zhen’s pregnancy had spread throughout the palace, and all the other consorts eyed the child with envy, especially the two noble consorts of the main palaces. If the child was a princess, it would be one thing; but if it was a prince, Consort Zhen’s status would become unassailable—perhaps even securing the crown prince’s position for Seventeenth Prince Jun Jinglan. None of them would take that risk, so the child became everyone’s target.

“Rise. Usually you’re rather bold—why so timid now, entering the palace?” Consort Zhen laughed as she gently stroked her flat belly, her voice echoing through the empty hall.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” An Ran replied, standing aside with her head lowered, eyes hidden.

Consort Zhen dismissed her attendants. “Leave us. I wish to speak with Miss An alone—she saved my mother’s life, and I must thank her properly.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Wanqing and the maids retreated, closing the doors behind them, leaving the vast hall even more silent and foreboding.

“Miss An, I have a favor to ask—please, you must agree.”

Suddenly, Consort Zhen slid from her couch, kneeling with tears in her eyes, gazing at An Ran with hope and desperation.

“Sister…”

“Please, Your Grace, you mustn’t—this will only shorten my life!” An Ran hurried forward to support her, seizing the consort’s wrist as she did.

Feeling her pulse, An Ran noted that her internal energy was weak and unstable; her health was far from what it appeared. Rather, she seemed devastated by long-term torment. The fetus, too, was in danger of miscarriage.

“Miss An, please, save my child,” Consort Zhen pleaded, her arrogance vanished, replaced with utter sorrow.

“If you don’t get up, the child will be lost for certain!” An Ran warned.

At her words, Consort Zhen allowed herself to be helped back to the couch by An Ran and Qin Ruoyang.

“Ruoyang, wait outside. I have private matters to discuss with Miss An,” the consort said, her tone resolute.

Qin Ruoyang hesitated, glancing between the two women, but finally left. He had never seen his sister in such a state; it must be important.

An Ran now suspected that Consort Zhen’s life in the palace was not as glorious as outsiders believed, and that even her closest attendants knew little of what transpired between her and Jun Dingyue.

When Qin Ruoyang had gone, Consort Zhen rose and stripped away her outer garments, leaving only a pink undergarment embroidered with mandarin ducks. Her back, arms, and legs were covered with bruises and scars—shocking to behold. The marks seemed less like lash wounds and more like those left by silk bindings.

Suddenly, An Ran’s eyes widened. Could it be…

Consort Zhen nodded, tears streaming silently down her face, confirming all that An Ran had guessed. After a moment, she began to tell her bitter story.

When the Qin family sent her into the palace, Jun Dingyue’s health was already failing; he was impotent and, despite daily tonics, grew ever more irritable. To cover his condition, he filled the harem with new beauties.

Yet, inexplicably, after some time, Jun Dingyue became vigorous again, summoning consorts nightly. At first, Qin Ruoxi was not favored, but in her third month, fate brought her to his attention, and she was summoned.

Initially, she suspected nothing—he seemed an ordinary man, and she slept peacefully. But she noticed that every time she entered his chambers, the candles were extinguished, shrouding everything in darkness. He would embrace her from behind, murmuring softly as he tasted her fragrance.

As time went on, Qin Ruoxi grew suspicious. No man his age should have such energy. One night, she resolved to find out what was happening.

No sooner had she entered the bedchamber than someone seized her from behind. She felt cloth being wrapped around her body, binding her tightly until she was trussed up and gagged, then hung up like a puppet.

Terrified, she saw the candles flare to life, revealing not a soul in the grand hall. Then Jun Dingyue emerged, wearing a twisted smile, followed by a naked man. Qin Ruoxi was petrified.

She considered ending her life, but Jun Dingyue threatened her family, leaving her powerless. From then on, by day she was the emperor’s beloved consort; by night, she was bound and tormented, her suffering masked by makeup.

And yet, she fell in love with that man and conceived his child. She longed to bear the child, to escape the palace with him after Jun Dingyue’s death. But her health was failing; she feared neither she nor the child would survive.

An Ran was appalled. Jun Dingyue was a depraved monster. Back then, when she begged her brother to turn against Jun Dingyue for Lu Anrong’s sake, she could never have imagined the filth hidden behind his facade.

If this child was that man's, what of the Seventeenth Prince?

“Your Grace, I’m afraid I cannot help you. Please seek someone else.” Though she pitied Consort Zhen, An Ran had no wish to be drawn into this mire. She had her own vengeance to pursue; she could not risk her life in the palace intrigues. She still had to skin Lu Anrong and Leng Yiyun alive.

Qin Ruoxi stared at her in disbelief. Was her suffering not enough to elicit any sympathy? Yet An Ran refused her coolly, leaving no room for negotiation.

How hard-hearted was this woman, to remain unmoved?

“Miss An, please, have pity on my child. Save him…”

An Ran rose and bowed respectfully. She drew out a slender gold needle from a small kit she carried, her expression calm but resolute. “Your Grace, it is not that I do not sympathize or wish to help, but I am powerless. You must understand my predicament. Today I will administer a single acupuncture treatment and prescribe a stabilizing tonic. The rest is up to fate.”

If Consort Zhen hoped she would stay in the palace and secretly protect her, that was impossible. Out of compassion, this was all she could do.

“Miss An…” Consort Zhen tried to protest, but An Ran ignored her, deftly inserting the needle into a vital acupoint.

A sharp pain pricked Consort Zhen, but soon relief spread through her body. Her moist eyes watched An Ran, a flash of cunning passing through them. Very well, An Ran, you leave me no choice.

An Ran noticed the look but feigned ignorance. She finished the treatment, prepared ink and brush, and swiftly wrote a prescription in elegant script.

“Your Grace, take one dose per day, decocted three times into a single bowl.” She handed over the prescription. “With that, I take my leave.”

With that, An Ran called to the little fox and departed. Qin Ruoxi tore the prescription to shreds, glaring furiously after her. “How ungrateful,” she fumed inwardly.

An Ran found Qin Ruoyang already gone. Wanqing approached to relay a message. “Miss, Lord Qin has gone to the Imperial Study. If you come out before he returns, I am to have you escorted to the palace gates to wait for him.”

An Ran smiled coolly. “Thank you for your trouble.”

Wanqing nodded and summoned a maid. “Sangju, escort Miss An out of the palace.”

An Ran was familiar with the route but kept it to herself to avoid attracting trouble. She thanked Wanqing again, picked up the little fox, and followed Sangju out of the palace.

After walking a short distance, An Ran looked back at the splendid, dazzling halls and shook her head. Once you enter the palace, it is as deep as the sea; from then on, you cannot truly know another’s heart.

“Miss, it’s terribly hot. Let me take you out by the outer path of the Imperial Garden—it’s cooler there. Would that be agreeable?” At a fork in the road, Sangju turned and asked respectfully.

An Ran glanced up at the blazing sun. Indeed, the outer path was cooler and shorter. Seeing no harm, she nodded. “Lead the way.”

Sangju nodded and led her down a shady path. The trees were dense, their interwoven branches blocking most of the sunlight. Only a few rays slipped through, dappling the ground.

At the end of the path lay a small road leading to the Imperial Garden. From here, laughter drifted faintly on the breeze.

An Ran and Sangju had not walked far when hurried footsteps and shouting came from behind.

As An Ran turned, she saw Wanqing and several guards running toward her. Wanqing pointed and shouted, “That’s her—the murderer! Seize her!”