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墨書 Inktalez
A few days later, early in the morning, Bu Lanchan packed her belongings, ready to leave at the earliest opportunity. Her purpose had been fulfilled, and she had no desire to stay here any longer.
Following Consort Xi's instructions, she mingled among a group of palace maids who had reached the age of twenty-five and were leaving the palace. Holding a simple bundle, she felt a slight unease, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the ties of her package.
As she passed through a palace gate, she spotted Zhao Yi walking back from the morning court session. Feeling guilty, she lowered her head, her body trembling slightly. After all, as a palace maid who had not yet turned twenty-five, being released from the palace without permission was against the rules.
If he discovered that she was the maid who had confirmed Consort Hua's miscarriage and had previously served Consort Rong—whom he had questioned—she would appear to be fleeing in fear of punishment among those leaving the palace.
If he were to carefully consider the sequence of events, it would not be difficult for him to notice the coincidences and oddities surrounding these incidents.
Sure enough, as he approached the group of maids, he furrowed his brow as if scrutinizing her.
Bu Lanchan anxiously kept her head down, only able to see his black boots and the robe embroidered with a dragon pattern. Her heart raced, and her fingers clenched tightly in her sleeves, palms slick with sweat.
No matter how she had schemed before or how much effort she had put into bringing down Three Consort, her fate now rested solely on a word from this young emperor.
"You, lift your head," Zhao Yi's voice was calm yet carried an air of authority.
Bu Lanchan's heart sank; reluctantly, she raised her face. She wore an expression that was a mix of timidity and slight joy appropriate for meeting an emperor—after all, being favored by him was akin to soaring to new heights—but there was an unmistakable hint of tension in her eyes.
"You..." Zhao Yi paused, a flicker of doubt appearing in his gaze. However, he had been troubled by too many issues lately.
With Consort Hua cast into the Cold Palace, her brother, a General, was constantly opposing him in court. Thus, he did not immediately recall Bu Lanchan; he merely found her face somewhat familiar.
"Your Majesty, you're here." A soft voice called out, and Zhao Yi turned to see Consort Rou approaching him, breathless and unsteady on her feet.
He hurried towards Consort Rou, his steps quickening as if afraid his beloved might fall. He reached out a hand to steady her.
"What were you asking the palace maids about?" Consort Rou inquired with bright eyes, curiosity evident in her tone. "Have you taken a liking to one of them?"
"Oh, it's nothing much, just some palace maids who are about to leave," Zhao Yi replied casually, waving his hand dismissively to signal Bu Lanchan and the others to leave quickly, not wanting to disturb their intimate moment.
"Why would you think that, Rou'er? You should know that among all the women in the harem, you are the one I love most," Zhao Yi said gently, brushing aside a stray lock of hair from Consort Rou's forehead.
Bu Lanchan felt a weight lift from her heart, a faint smile appearing on her lips as she felt relieved.
In front of her lover, she had no interest in anyone else.
She had won this round.
As she brushed past Consort Rou, they felt like strangers who had never met before.
Consort Rou still looked as fragile as ever; she had once been pregnant but tragically lost the baby at three months, leaving her even weaker and making her walk like a wilting willow in the wind.
At that time, the newly entered Noble Consort Rong Xue was favored due to her status as the Prime Minister's daughter and spent every night by his side.
However, compared to that first encounter, Consort Rou's complexion had improved significantly; it seemed Zhao Yi had been taking good care of her.
She turned her head and saw Consort Rou shyly nestled in Zhao Yi's embrace, while Zhao Yi gently brushed aside the stray hair from her forehead and softly said, "If you're not feeling well, you shouldn't be out and about."
What a beautiful ink painting of Xiuhua.
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