Ning Zhiqing watched anxiously as the ointment was applied to Axin's face. Only when the imperial physician stepped back did she blurt, "How long until it heals completely?"
"Your Majesty, at most six months; at the shortest, about three," the physician replied.
A smile spread across Ning Zhiqing's face. "Good. Reward him."
Helian Fu lingered silently at the side, now unable to look at the Empress Dowager and Lin Taifei with ordinary eyes. Remembering the intimate scene at the summer villa, he'd have rubbed his eyes if the physician hadn't still been there.
He finally understood. No wonder the connection between the Dowager and Lin Taifei had always felt odd; even if two people got along, they shouldn't be that inseparable. Everything made sense now. First shock, then resignation — perhaps because they had once crawled out of the Cold Palace together, their closeness had long since rooted in his mind.
"During this period, the Consort must avoid certain foods that impede scar healing." The physician handed a list to a maid. Ning Zhiqing waved for it. The maid obeyed at once; the physician bowed and withdrew, thinking to himself that the affection between the Dowager and Lin Taifei truly was as deep as the rumors suggested.
Seeing this, Helian Fu hastened his own exit. Inside he grumbled: staying here felt suicidal. With the Dowager's eyes on him like needles, he nearly wanted to ask whether he should take his leave at once. He was only a child, after all.
"Physician," Helian Fu called the man back. "Prescription for some tonic. I've been listless. I worry I won't grow enough." He fretted about height, vigor — a child's small anxieties.
The Dowager, distracted by Lin Taifei, neglected courtwork at times — and he felt tired just watching. He understood why Lin Taifei had advised the Dowager to govern from behind the curtain rather than take the throne herself. Being emperor was arduous; on this course he'd aged two years and gained not a single pound.
Three months later the scar on Axin's forehead had faded. Ning Zhiqing was so joyful she couldn't eat for three days. Each night she kept kissing the beauty beside her; one wish fulfilled — she could kiss Axin for the rest of her life.
At night they lay together on one bed, gazing at each other. Ning Zhiqing looked at that serene, otherworldly face and teased, "Axin, you are a fairy."
Axin pressed a palm to her face. "Sleep. We must attend court tomorrow."
Ning Zhiqing nuzzled the hollow of Axin's neck, laughing, "Held by a beauty's arms, I will never attend court again." Truthfully, she did not want to — she'd much rather hold Axin all day.
Axin pinched her cheek. "Zhiqing—you promised to protect me."
"What?" Ning blinked.
"Will you break that promise?"
She hurriedly shook her head. "No. I won't break it. I will protect Axin."
"Then you must go to court tomorrow." Axin smiled lightly. "The more power you hold, the safer our days will be."
"I know." Ning Zhiqing looped an arm around Axin's waist and breathed in the scent of her. "From now on you needn't worry about a thing. The first half of your life you paved the road for me, planned for me, raised me to this height. The rest of my life I want you to be happy every day. Don't spend your mind scheming. I will keep you, support you. I have never forgotten."
She understood that Axin herself didn't crave power; power was a tool — to keep what she loved safe. Control in hand meant safety.
"Sleep." Axin patted her head. Ning Zhiqing closed her eyes contented. "Tomorrow you needn't wake early to be sent off. I'll manage."
Still, the next morning Axin rose and saw her off as always.
In court, Ning Zhiqing became ruthless again — measured, sharp, utterly without mercy when she sparred with ministers. Helian Fu stared, astonished. Today the Dowager was terrifying.
The ministers flushed and stammered; none expected to be bested by a woman. Ning Wuyuan laughed — his precious daughter was indeed formidable.
After court, Ning Zhiqing hurried to find Axin and gripped her hand, relieved to feel its warmth. "Why wait here?"
"No matter. If I hadn't been here, you'd be home crying tonight," Axin teased.
Ning flushed. "I am not crying."
"You look like a puppy waiting by a table for a bone," Axin said, amused.
Ning pretended offense, but when Axin smiled she didn't mind being that puppy who got fed.
Days passed; the palace knew of the deep bond between the Dowager and Lin Taifei. In public, they showed nothing — not because they could hide it, but because nobody dared stare. Ministers, constantly silenced by Ning Zhiqing, busied themselves trying to trap her with words and couldn't notice the rest.
When Helian Fu turned sixteen he chose a bride — a minister's daughter, gentle and composed. He preferred decorum over passion; as emperor he would take a few concubines if necessary, but he did not wish to send anyone to the Cold Palace without cause. If the consorts behaved, he'd grant them honors for their families. He had little capacity for real attachment.
After seeing the two formidable women — the Dowager and Lin Taifei — and witnessing the cruelty of Bai Xi, he felt unsettled.
The Retired Emperor, Helian Zheng, lived on under the care of He Qing and was spared Bai Xi's wrath. At first she fumed, then she preferred to taunt him daily rather than kill him. He would rage awhile, then respond with the same barbed scorn, and the two wounded one another in return.
In Helian Fu's view the harem ought to remain quiet; he wouldn't allow endless struggle while he lived. His harem numbered only five — later events would show his innocence.
His Empress, however, sought control of the harem and privately resented Lin Taifei and the Dowager. One night she hinted to him that a woman should not hold power in court long-term; she wanted him to gather authority in his hands.
Helian Fu suspected then that his choice of bride might have been mistaken — she looked composed, but perhaps she hid her claws. He investigated her past and had been satisfied… until now.
"Empress," he said earnestly, "I'm only seventeen. I must learn from the Dowager. Court is not taught in a sentence."
He believed that without the Dowager's guidance he would be a mere puppet. Ning Zhiqing taught him without stinginess. Once he knew of the Dowager's purpose — she governed to protect what she cherished — he understood her constancy.
Once he overheard Ning Zhiqing tell Axin that she disliked court but took power because, without it, they would be at the mercy of others. He saw then that her rule was a shield for what she loved.
"Years from now, when the emperor turns twenty, it will be time for him to rule fully," the Empress murmured, uneasy. She was by rights the most honored woman in the harem; the Dowager was tolerated, but Lin Taifei? It rankled.
Helian Fu wanted to dismiss her fears. "Do not slander the Dowager and Lin Taifei," he warned, cold.
The Empress, unused to his indifference, felt hurt but dared say no more. She then decided to take matters into her own hands.
One day she went to the Retired Emperor's lonely palace despite cautionary murmurs. She wanted to see him and claim filial duty. Guards tried to stop her, but He Qing intervened with a knowing smile and let her pass. He would watch.
Inside, the Empress found a sight that stunned her.
"Who are you?" Bai Xi asked, wild-haired, pale.
The Empress steadied herself. "I am the Empress."
"Helian Fu's Empress?" Bai Xi laughed, bitter and old. She spat cruel truths, and the Empress felt something cold and wrong. Bai Xi drew her closer. She had secrets she wanted spread like poison.
Shaken, the Empress retreated. Later she behaved warmly toward Helian Fu, entertaining him until he drank too much and fell asleep. Alone with him, she drew a dagger — she intended to stab him. She'd sent the truth she had learned to her father; she expected rescue would follow. If Helian Fu died, her family would be rewarded.
Her hand trembled, but she struck — and the blade failed to pierce. Helian Fu caught her wrist.
"Empress, have I failed you?" he asked, wounded. He had treated her kindly in ways he could, even if his heart had not been hers. The betrayal cut him.
The Empress faltered. "You're not the Retired Emperor's son, so—" she stammered.
"So I shouldn't sit the throne?" Helian Fu's face crumpled; the door burst open. Ning Zhiqing and Axin entered, and Ning mocked him softly: "Child, I told you: your judgement isn't great. If not for me you'd have been undone by someone else. See now?"
Helian Fu, hurt like a child, let go of the dagger and went to them, clutching Axin's sleeve like a scared boy. Ning Zhiqing scolded him with a smile: "Enough. You're old enough to take care of yourself. Wipe the grievance away."
He refused to let go of Axin's sleeve; he needed the comfort of the Taifei. Seeing the Dowager ruffle in mock anger pleased him secretly. She told him, "Go with her. I'll handle this."
Ning addressed the Empress in a cold voice. "You are foolish."
"You're cruel," the Empress snapped back, "you only think of your safety and glory. You never loved him. He tried to be good, to hold to his promise — he even considered keeping only one wife. Had you shown him a little true feeling, he might have resisted pressures."
The Empress was stunned. Ning Zhiqing tilted her head, smiling thinly. "Bring her away. Proclaim the Empress' death."
There was no room for mercy for those who would stab the emperor. The Empress was punished; she had sought to make her family powerful by killing the emperor and failed.
After the execution, Helian Fu did not emerge for some time. Ning Zhiqing eventually grew impatient and pushed a stack of memorials at him.
He looked up at the two of them — joyful, content — and felt jealous. "Dowager, I am in pain. Please go easy on me. These memorials will make me weep through the night."
"Then continue tomorrow," she said, smiling. She glanced at Axin. "Right, Axin?"
Axin nodded gently. "Yes. Fu'er, you are the emperor. Those memorials are yours to handle."
"I used to think Consort was the gentlest," Helian Fu murmured.
Axin feigned innocence. "What made you think that?"
He coughed. "It was an illusion."
Smiling, the three sat together while Helian Fu resumed work. He felt—unexpectedly—comforted, as if the quiet nights of the Cold Palace had returned. For a moment it was like old times: they three alone among paper and ink.
Years passed. Ning Zhiqing and Axin grew old, their hair white. One day Ning Zhiqing's hand tightened around Axin's. "Axin, kiss me once more?"
Axin bent and kissed her lips. As she moved to pull away, Ning pulled her close and whispered, "You're not Lin Xin, are you?"
"No." Axin only smiled; the question held no surprise. Ning's eyes shone. "You came only for me, didn't you?"
Axin's eyes curved with love. "Yes. Only for you."
"In the next life, will you still come for me?"
"I will."
"That's wonderful." Ning laughed, bright. "Kiss me again. I want to be kissed to death."
Axin obliged. She kissed Ning's brow, took her hand, and slowly let it slip. A single tear fell from her eye; she lay down beside Ning and whispered, "I came for you. You vanish when I do."
A long while later Helian Fu pushed open the door and found them lying peaceful, hands clasped. His throat tightened. "Bury the Dowager and Lin Taifei together," he called.
Alone and unseen by servants, Helian Fu's eyes filled; tears flowed freely. "The Dowager is gone. Lin Taifei is gone. No one will guard me now."
ChatGPT can make