[1]The Consort is Both Charming and Scheming, Rising Through Palace Intrigue

Inside Zhaochan Hall.

"Your Majesty, you barely touched your lunch—please have at least a little dinner."

Yang An was truly at his wits' end. The emperor, aside from sleeping, was constantly buried in state affairs. He barely ate a few bites each day. Even an iron body couldn't withstand that for long.

Xiao Yu, still reading the memorials, said coldly, "You're giving me a headache. Get out."

Yang An immediately shut his mouth and carefully backed out of the hall.

Seeing this, Xiao Xi hurried over. "Master, the emperor isn't eating again?"

Yang An frowned with worry. "Too much government work, plus... something's weighing on His Majesty's heart."

He understood very well that the emperor's foul mood wasn't just due to court matters—but mostly because of Lady Zhao, now titled Xiuyi. Almost no one in the palace could affect the emperor's emotions, but this woman clearly could. Her future was bound to be bright.

Just as he said this, something lit up in his eyes as he looked ahead.

Xiao Xi followed his gaze and saw Qiu Le approaching—the palace maid from Lanyue Pavilion.

She greeted them with a gentle bow. "My lady personally cooked some congee. Would you please deliver it to His Majesty?"

Yang An beamed as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "You've come at just the right time! His Majesty hasn't touched his dinner. If Lady Xiuyi cooked it herself, he's sure to eat."

Qiu Le smiled and nodded.

Yang An, being the emperor's close attendant and chief eunuch, calling her "young lady" was already a mark of great respect. Plus, even though Ning Shuyan hadn't officially been granted her title, he addressed her as "Lady Xiuyi" out of courtesy.

Yang An picked up the food box and told Xiao Xi, "Now the emperor will surely eat something."

He then hurried inside.

"Your Majesty..."

Xiao Yu frowned. "What now?"

Yang An grinned. "Your Majesty, some congee was sent from Lanyue Pavilion—personally made by Lady Xiuyi."

At that, the emperor's hand paused mid-writing. His eyes lit up, and his tone softened with delight. "Bring it here."

Yang An's smile grew broader as he opened the food box.

The bowl of chestnut congee was still steaming, its light fragrance wafting through the air. Xiao Yu picked up a silver spoon. "I actually do feel a bit hungry."

He took a sip. Whether it was genuine hunger or something else, he quickly finished the entire bowl.

Meanwhile, in Lanyue Pavilion, Ning Shuyan had just bathed and now sat on her chaise reading, slowly sipping tea.

She looked out the window. A bright moon hung high in the sky, casting soft, misty light. Though the heavens were vast, they were boxed in by the palace's stone walls.

"Miss, the imperial carriage is heading this way," Qiu Le said, drawing her attention back.

Her expression remained cool and composed. "Very well. When the emperor arrives, just say I've already gone to sleep."

With that, she turned and walked toward her inner chamber.

Ziying was confused. Didn't Miss just make congee for His Majesty herself? Doesn't that mean she's forgiven him? Why not meet him then?

The same thought crossed Xiao Yu's mind. He had assumed that her gesture meant she'd let things go, so he came with visible warmth in his smile.

But when he stepped into the hall and saw no one but two maids, he asked, "Where is your mistress?"

Qiu Le bowed. "Your Majesty, she has already retired for the night."

His smile slowly faded at her words. Spotting the still-steaming tea on the table, a chill crept into his heart.

With a blank expression, he stepped into the inner room, where he saw her sleeping with her back to him, tightly wrapped in blankets.

He glanced at the still-lit candles by the bed—he knew she wasn't truly asleep.

She never slept like this—too proper—and she always extinguished the candles before bed.

Ning Shuyan heard his familiar footsteps grow closer, then stop beside her.

He gazed at her delicate profile, skin fair as jade, and her face appeared slightly thinner. His throat tightened. "Do you truly not want to see me anymore?"

His deep, hoarse voice lingered in her ears. Hidden under the blanket, her thumb twitched slightly, but she kept her eyes shut.

He had taken the initiative to reconcile several times already—something rare for a man of his stature. Yet he couldn't bring himself to be harsh with this woman. He still wanted to see her, still felt guilty.

If he hadn't overheard those heartfelt words of hers that night, he wouldn't be doing this again and again. But now he knew—there was someone in this world who had loved him so deeply.

Most women in the palace claimed to love him, but what they truly loved was his title, the power and riches he could offer.

After a while, his footsteps receded. Only then did Ning Shuyan open her eyes.

This was what people called neither close nor distant—when the distance between a man and a woman created an irresistible pull. Not too close, not too far. Keeping the right distance kept his interest. Between having and not having, a man became obsessed, and only then would he truly treasure what he had.

In the following days, although Xiao Yu didn't come personally, he sent many gifts through Yang An.

February's weather lacked the heat of summer or the chill of winter. The spring breeze was gentle, the sun warm, nature awakening in full bloom.

After paying respects at Fengqi Palace, Ning Shuyan stepped outside.

"Tomorrow is your birthday, Miss," Ziying said. "What a blessing, to have such good fortune! But... does the Inner Court or His Majesty even know it's your birthday?"

Ning Shuyan smiled faintly. "I didn't expect him to remember."

"Then you should rest well today. Tomorrow will surely be tiring."

As they walked, they saw Concubine Mi and Cheng Yin speaking nearby, their expressions not pleasant.

When Cheng Yin noticed Ning Shuyan approaching, her frown softened. She stepped forward with a graceful smile. "Greetings to Lady Xiuyi."

Concubine Mi sneered, adjusting the pearl strands hanging from her hair disdainfully.

Cheng Yin turned cold. "Why haven't you greeted Lady Xiuyi? Standing there like that?"

Concubine Mi scoffed. "She hasn't even had her formal investiture yet. How can she be called 'Lady'?"

Ning Shuyan, steady and composed, let Ziying support her as she walked up slowly. Her voice was chilly as she stared at Concubine Mi. "So what if there hasn't been a formal ceremony? With the emperor's decree, even Eunuch Yang has to call me 'Lady Xiuyi.'"

Gritting her teeth, Concubine Mi gave a perfunctory bow and muttered, "I've bowed for now—but one day, I'll make you repay it."

Ning Shuyan raised an elegant brow. "Clearly you don't know your place."

Then she walked over to Cheng Yin and linked arms with her, leaving together.