"This matter is highly suspicious," Wumian frowned. "Guifei, you must investigate it thoroughly. No matter who it is, anyone capable of resorting to something this vile cannot be allowed to remain. If we let this pass, who knows what other underhanded schemes might follow. We’ve never encountered such filth in the pace before—it’s utterly repugnant. Poor Li Liangyi…"

  "Your Majesty is right," Guifei replied solemnly. "This cannot be taken lightly. If someone is indeed behind this, we must not allow such a person to linger by our side."

  "Enough," Ying Qionglou interrupted, his voice cold. "You need not concern yourselves with this any further. I will have my men investigate it personally."

  The matter was so foul, he couldn’t bear the thought of letting his wives and concubines soil their hands with it.

  Wumian gnced at the Emperor, the corners of her lips curling into a meaningful smile.

  She said nothing more, but Li Fei could not help adding softly, "His Majesty is, after all, most concerned for Guifei."

  It was not the right time to act coy, so she merely left it at that.

  Ying Qionglou did not deny it. Instead, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—so this was what the Empress meant?

  He had misunderstood. He had simply wanted to spare any of the women of his harem from getting involved in such filth.

  But he had no intention of expining himself.

  "Today’s events—each of you will bury them in your stomachs," Ying Qionglou said coldly. "If a single word leaks beyond those present, you’d best be prepared for the consequences."

  The maids and eunuchs were so frightened, they immediately knelt down.

  "Enough. All of you may return. Lu Zhong, you stay behind and handle the matter," the Emperor ordered, his gaze sweeping over Lu Zhong, who bowed low in acknowledgment.

  Once they stepped out of Biyu Pavilion, Ying Qionglou said, "Go back. I still have matters to attend to."

  Everyone dispersed.

  Wumian walked with him for a short distance before politely taking her leave.

  When she returned to Fengyi Pace, Linshui still appeared uneasy but did not dare speak.

  Zhaohua and a few others tried to ask discreetly, but Wumian simply said, "Don’t inquire about what happened today. Li Liangyi has had some trouble—it’s not a good thing. His Majesty has given strict orders. No one is allowed to speak of it."

  "Yes, so long as Your Majesty is well, we won’t ask," Zhaohua replied obediently.

  She was a simple person—whatever the Empress said, she would take as truth.

  Meanwhile, at Guifei’s pace, Rong Fei’s face was still pale. "That truly frightened me."

  If it really had been syphilis… that would have been terrifying.

  "You don’t suppose this was Li Fei’s doing?" she asked.

  Guifei shook her head immediately, without hesitation. "Li Fei is favored. Even if she wanted to deal with Li Liangyi, she wouldn’t resort to something this disgusting."

  "True… I wonder who would stoop to such filth. His Majesty will surely have them dragged out and punished," Rong Fei sighed.

  "That’s not what worries me most," Guifei frowned. "Li Liangyi is now out of favor. Will she even be allowed to carry her child to term?"

  Rong Fei nodded. "Even if she does, what then? She’ll never be summoned to the bedchamber again. His Majesty will be disgusted with her. Leaving aside the fact that she was examined by the imperial physician… even if her body heals, the memory of her illness will linger. How could His Majesty ever desire her again? And what child born of her would ever win his affection?"

  Guifei pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath. "Indeed… what is to be done?"

  In Fengyi Pace, Wumian shared the same thought, but she also had others.

  Meanwhile, back at Biyu Pavilion, Li Liangyi sat in despair.

  Her attendants trembled, unable to hide their fear. Lu Zhong sighed heavily and ordered all of them to be taken away, regardless of rank.

  Everyone knew—they couldn’t remain. Perhaps not all would be executed, but those closest to her were finished.

  Scandal, no matter the truth, would stain everyone involved.

  Li Liangyi knew this too. She could barely fend for herself; how could she plead for anyone else?

  She had been in the pace for barely two months—her brief period of favor now reduced to ashes. A fall so swift it made one sigh.

  With the mistress of Biyu Pavilion abruptly relocated, her staff dismissed, and her attendants repced, the entire rear pace fell silent in fear. Whispers circuted everywhere.

  The next day, at morning greetings, many were curious about what had happened to Li Liangyi. They didn’t dare ask outright, but all tried to probe discreetly.

  Wumian had already prepared an expnation: "Li Liangyi stirred her pregnancy yesterday. She was careless and angered His Majesty. She’s been pced under house arrest for now, but she’ll be fine after some time."

  Naturally, few believed this.

  After all, Li Liangyi had been moved to Ziyan Pavilion—a remote, out-of-the-way residence. Had the Emperor truly been angry over something trivial, would he have gone so far?

  But the Empress said so, and so did Guifei, Rong Fei, Li Fei, and Min Fei. Whether anyone believed it or not, no one could uncover anything further.

  There was nothing worth mentioning during today’s greetings. Wumian, however, kept Jiang Zhaorong behind without expining why.

  She did it on purpose—let the others specute as much as they pleased.

  "Does Your Majesty have something to instruct me?" Jiang Zhaorong asked respectfully. "Whatever it is, please tell me. I will do my utmost."

  Wumian smiled at her. "You’ve heard of Li Liangyi’s trouble by now. She is pitiful."

  "Indeed," Jiang Zhaorong said cautiously. "I heard she stirred her pregnancy somehow…"

  "She’s been moved to Ziyan Pavilion. His Majesty did not forbid anyone from visiting her, but who knows when she will be allowed to return. She is with child, after all." Wumian sighed softly. "I thought, since you have little to occupy you most days, why not visit her often?"

  At first, Jiang Zhaorong didn’t understand. Then, realization dawned on her. "Your Majesty means…"

  "You are a Zhaorong, a third-rank consort among the Nine Consorts. If you visit her often, she’ll feel reassured and won’t be bullied by others," Wumian’s words held deeper meaning. "The women of this pace have a hard life. You never know when you might fall from favor—once you do, you may never rise again. But children are innocent. It’s best if there is someone to look after them."

  Jiang Zhaorong’s heart raced. "Your Majesty, I understand. I will do my best."

  "No need to rush. Wait until things quiet down, then visit her more often," Wumian said gently.

  "Yes, I understand. Thank you, Your Majesty, for your favor," Jiang Zhaorong could barely contain her excitement.

  Seeing she had understood, Wumian smiled and began chatting with her about other, unreted matters.

  When Jiang Zhaorong finally left Fengyi Pace, she still felt as though she were walking in a dream, forcing herself to remain calm.

  Her maid, Hongdou, whispered, "Your Highness, let us return."

  It wouldn’t do to let anyone see her expression.

  Jiang Zhaorong nodded and took a deep breath. "Let’s go."

  Her mind was a mess, filled with thoughts of what she ought to do next. The Empress had pointed the way—it was clear that now was not the time to act rashly. She needed to look further ahead.

  The Empress’s thoughts, as expected, were far-reaching.

  As for others, the official word was that Jiang Zhaorong had stayed behind to practice calligraphy with the Empress.

  After all, Jiang Zhaorong’s handwriting was excellent—her small floral script was famed throughout the pace.

  The Empress had recently been preparing ink sticks herself, clearly interested in calligraphy.

  She had even gifted Jiang Zhaorong one of her handmade ink sticks and a fine inkstone.

  Whether people believed it or not, that was the story put forth.