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

The Empress listened to all the talk of "princess this" and "princess that," her brows and eyes seeming to darken like clouds gathering overhead. Her hand clenched tightly around the armrest of the phoenix throne.

After a moment, she managed to force a few traces of a smile. "Be sure to drink the pregnancy tonics prescribed by the Imperial Medical Bureau. Whether it's a prince or a princess, they are all imperial heirs. Giving birth to a royal child is a tremendous contribution."

Everyone responded quickly in agreement, though their expressions varied.

Especially Consort Chu, Lady Xu, Zhaorong Lin, and Concubine Ye—their faces didn't look too pleased.

Eventually, it was Zhaorong Lin, always known for her bluntness, who finally voiced what many were thinking. Her personality had always been straightforward, and even now she seemed a bit hesitant to speak: "Your Majesty often reminds us to drink the pregnancy tonics, but if His Majesty never visits, what use are they?"

Concubine Ye chimed in immediately, "Yes, Zhaorong is right."

Zhaorong Lin, hearing Concubine Ye echo her words, pulled out a slight smile. Her eyes drifted over to Consort Zhuang and, with a tone full of veiled sarcasm, she added, "Unlike Consort Zhuang or Lady Zhao, who are deeply favored, His Majesty hasn't visited me even once this entire month. What good is all the tonic in the world then?"

Consort Zhuang sneered, "Rather than wasting time complaining here, perhaps Zhaorong Lin should think about how to make His Majesty spare her a glance."

Back when she was still a consort in the Prince's manor, Zhaorong Lin hadn't been particularly favored either. It was only in the beginning, because of her decent family background, that she had been promoted to Zhaorong.

The Empress maintained a calm demeanor. "As consorts, you must learn to endure loneliness. When there's nothing to do, copy Buddhist scriptures or pray for the Emperor's well-being. If your heart is truly devoted to His Majesty, in time, he will see your sincerity."

Zhaorong Lin gave a half-smile and nodded, "Yes, Your Majesty. I understand."

After a bit more idle chatter, the Empress dismissed the group. As Concubine Xue stood, the Empress once again glanced at her belly—it really was large and round.

The Empress sighed inwardly.

Once they left Fengqi Palace, Zhaorong Lin vented all her frustration. She turned to Lady Ying and said, "What's the point of copying Buddhist scriptures all day like a nun? The Empress might seem gracious and virtuous on the surface, but behind the scenes, I bet she's just as bitter and jealous as the rest of us."

Her movements were a bit too dramatic, and her elegant hair ornament got tangled in her hair, a sparkling crystal bead nearly falling off.

Lady Ying gave a light laugh and helped her tidy up the accessory. She spoke softly, "Lower your voice. She's the Empress. Others in the palace can show their jealousy openly, but she must not. On the contrary, she must act gracious and give advice to others. Of course, she's hurting inside."

Zhaorong Lin adjusted her hairpin and sneered, "She's the Empress. Sitting in that position means she should bear it. I'm just a consort—being jealous or sour is perfectly acceptable."

Lady Ying had always been on good terms with her since the Prince's manor, so she didn't mind speaking frankly. She offered a kind reminder, "Just some friendly advice—don't drag Lady Zhao into things. She's very favored right now, and best not to provoke her."

"I didn't provoke her. But even if she's favored, so what? Haven't you and I both had our turns being favored too? It's not like His Majesty treasures her that deeply."

Lady Ying frowned slightly, her calm face showing a bit of seriousness. "I used to think the same. But I can feel it now—His Majesty treats her differently."

Zhaorong Lin raised her beautiful eyes slightly. "What do you mean by 'differently'?"

Lady Ying lifted her chin and gazed off into the pale blue sky. "Others are simply favored, but with her—His Majesty has genuine feelings."

Because of those feelings, Lady Ying believed that, in time, Lady Zhao would become the most favored of all, surpassing even Consort Zhuang.

"I see you as a younger sister, and I know you're straightforward, so I wanted to give you a heads-up."

Zhaorong Lin nodded. "Alright, I understand."

She knew that Lady Ying had a sharp intuition—almost like a sixth sense. Whatever she predicted usually turned out to be true.

The other concubines got along fairly well with her, and though His Majesty didn't favor her often, he still visited her occasionally.

Meanwhile, after leaving Fengqi Palace, Ning Shuyan went directly to Zhaochan Hall. Upon seeing her from afar, Yang An immediately came forward and bowed.

Ning Shuyan nodded. "Does the Emperor have time to see me?"

Yang An beamed. "Yes, yes, of course! His Majesty said, from now on, you may enter directly without needing to announce yourself."

Ning Shuyan blinked in surprise. Did this mean she now had free access to Zhaochan Hall—without needing to send word?

She gave a soft smile and walked into the hall.

Surprisingly, there was no incense burning today in Zhaochan Hall. When she entered, Xiao Yu didn't even look up. His full attention was on the memorials in front of him. His brows were furrowed, lips lightly pressed together—his entire expression cold and distant, radiating an unapproachable aura.

Seeing him so focused, Ning Shuyan didn't want to disturb him. She quietly sat in a chair to the side, gazing at him as his frown deepened. It seemed he was facing a particularly difficult issue.

Suddenly, a thought popped into her mind, and she finally understood why ancient emperors had such short lifespans—overuse of the brain, lack of sleep, irregular meals...

And of course, too much... bedroom activity.

She rested her chin in her palm and stared at Xiao Yu, eyes glinting with curiosity. He looked fairly healthy—perhaps he'd live long enough for her to gain power and status, enough to protect herself.

As she pondered this, she started to feel thirsty. She reached out for a nearby teacup. In the stillness of the hall, the sound of porcelain scraping was unexpectedly loud.

Crash!

"Who's there?!" Xiao Yu suddenly exclaimed, startled. The shadow he saw startled him enough that he reflexively whipped his calligraphy brush like a weapon in that direction—it flew straight toward her with surprising force.

"Ah!" a cry of pain rang out.

At the same time, Xiao Yu jumped up, his face filled with shock and regret. "It's you?!"

Ning Shuyan was clutching her forehead tightly, her little face scrunched up in pain, unable to speak. There was even ink staining her nose.

Hearing the commotion, Yang An stepped in but quickly backed into a corner when he saw the scene.

Xiao Yu rushed over to her and gently tried to pull her hand away, his face filled with concern. "Let me see."

But Ning Shuyan kept her hand pressed tightly to her forehead, furious. She had been sitting there minding her own business, and suddenly something had smacked her in the face—how could she not be upset?

She no longer cared that the man in front of her was the Emperor. Fuming, she said, "Your Majesty already hit me—what's the point of looking now?"

Xiao Yu softened his voice, "I didn't know it was you. You scared me—why didn't you say something when you came in?"

Ning Shuyan moved her lips but said nothing. In truth, the pain made it hard to speak. Her eyes reddened as tears welled up and shimmered.

Seeing those glistening tears, Xiao Yu's heart melted instantly. His voice grew even gentler. "Alright, it was my fault. Come now, be good—let me see how badly you're hurt."