As old wounds surface between the Emperor and Consort Shu, shadows creep ever closer to the heart of the palace. Can Yue stay one step ahead before it's too late?
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A gentle wind crept through the bamboo trees surrounding the Jade Bamboo Court in the peaceful evening.
Emperor Li Zhao sat on a soft mat, his royal robes draped around him. He held his tiny son, Prince Li Sheng.
The baby waved his small fists with curiosity.
Li Zhao gently touched his son's cheek with his finger. The baby held onto it tightly.
A rare and genuine smile appeared on the Emperor's face.
"You're strong already," he murmured softly, in a tone different than people were used to at court.
"A true son of Li."
The baby responded with happy gurgles, looking trustfully at his father.
Li Zhao lifted him slightly, examining the small features that mirrored his own. His thoughts drifted to a faraway palace, now gone.
As a child, he was sent as a hostage to the Yun Kingdom to ensure his father's cooperation.
He wondered if his father had ever held him this way or looked at him with the same wonder he felt for his son now.
Those memories were unclear, buried under years of political maneuvering. He remembered lessons in power, not tenderness.
The baby squirmed, pulling him back to the present.
Li Zhao adjusted, supporting his son's head with care.
"You will have a different childhood," he promised quietly.
"You will know your father."
Consort Shu worked on her embroidery in the room, pretending not to watch, but her eyes often returned to Li Zhao and their son.
The Emperor—often severe and unyielding—appeared relaxed, making silly noises to delight their son.
She had never seen him like this before. His usual stern expression was softened, making him look younger and lighter.
This softer side of Li Zhao was just for their son—perhaps the only person who would see him without his Emperor's authority.
They seemed almost like an ordinary family—not the complex imperial one they were.
Shu traced the golden thread on her embroidery hoop and finally spoke.
"Do you think we've only done what was expected of us?" Her question lingered.
Li Zhao's hand stilled on their son's back, his expression shifting from tender to pensive.
"Duty shapes us all," he said quietly after a moment.
"Sometimes I wonder if I can truly be both—Emperor and father. The throne demands one thing, our son another."
The baby cooed softly, unaware of his father's deep thoughts.
Shu set down her embroidery, moving deliberately.
"And us?" she asked, focused on her embroidery pattern.
"Was I just a suitable choice for the imperial heir's mother?"
Li Zhao's jaw tightened. He gently placed Sheng in his cradle before speaking.
"You have been..." he paused, "a source of peace here. I admire your kindness and your steadiness.
"You've given me a son when the empire needed an heir."
But the unspoken words lingered between them: His heart remained with memories of the Yun Kingdom.
"I've always been aware of her," Shu said quietly, catching him off guard with her straightforwardness.
"The late princess of the Yun Kingdom."
"But that's not what I'm asking about."
Li Zhao looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Yue," Shu said simply. "You look at her differently."
The Emperor's face gave away nothing, a skill he had honed over years of navigating court politics.
A heavy silence lingered between them. Shu offered a gentle smile, the kind she used to avoid confrontation.
She rose gracefully and moved to adjust the blanket in Sheng's cradle.
"It's okay," she said softly.
"Not every question needs an answer. Our son is healthy, and the palace is peaceful tonight. That's enough for now."
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Yue walked next to General Wan. Their steps were quiet on the stone path.
Crickets sang in the nearby bushes, and a gentle evening breeze rustled the branches overhead, sending petals fluttering down around them.
One of these soft petals landed on Yue's shoulder, which she brushed off without much thought, her mind elsewhere.
Finally, Yue broke the silence with a soft thank you.
"I appreciate what you did earlier with the boar," she said.
Wan's broad shoulders relaxed a little. "You don't need to thank me. I was just at the right place at the right time."
"Not everyone would have acted so quickly," Yue remarked, looking at him.
"You could have been hurt."
"I'd rather it be me than you," he replied.
Wan slowed down, turning to face her. He seemed to be searching for the right words.
"Yue, I—"
She suddenly raised her hand, tilting her head to listen.
"Did you hear that?"
Wan's demeanor changed in an instant. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, and he moved closer to her, gripping her arm protectively.
He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet.
They stood still, hardly daring to breathe.
At first, the only sounds were the rustling leaves and distant noises from the palace. Then, there was a soft scraping noise.
A shadow separated from the darkness near the eastern lakes, tiptoeing towards the Pine Frost Wing.
Wan's grip on Yue's arm tightened.
The figure paused at a junction in the path, looking cautiously around before continuing.
The way the figure moved was not like a servant running an errand but like someone who wanted to remain unseen.
Yue felt Wan tense up beside her, ready to act.
The shadowy figure slipped between two decorative pines, heading straight towards her rooms.
Wan's hand moved swiftly, drawing a slim dagger from his belt.
"Stay behind me," he instructed as he lunged forward.
Yue hesitated briefly before following him. Her silk slippers made soft sounds against the stone path as she hurried, lifting her robes to keep pace.
The intruder glanced back, revealing a flash of dark fabric and startled eyes, then darted between two ancient willows.
"Stop!" Wan's command cut sharply through the garden.
The figure sped up, ducking under a low-hanging branch, and turned quickly towards a bamboo grove.
Wan pursued with single-minded focus, his larger frame moving with the agile grace of a hunting cat.
He was gaining three strides, then two., when the intruder knocked over a decorative pot, sending it crashing across the path.
Wan leaped over it without breaking stride, but Yue had to sidestep, losing precious time.
"This way!" Wan called to her, disappearing around a moon gate.
Yue rounded the corner just in time to see the figure slip between two pavilions and head towards the water gardens.
Wan was close behind, his fingertips nearly touching the intruder's cloak. It looked like the chase might end, but the figure vaulted over a low wall landed softly and vanished into the darkness.
Wan stopped abruptly at the wall's edge, breathing hard.
"Damn it," he muttered, peering into the shadows.
Yue caught up, pressing a hand to her side to catch her breath.
"Where did they go?" she asked.
"Lost them," Wan said, clenching his jaw. "Near the koi pond."
They moved to the pond's edge, where lanterns cast flickering reflections on the water. Carp swam beneath like living shadows, disturbed by their approach.
The garden was silent, with no trace of the intruder.
Wan circled the area carefully, examining the ground. He stopped beside a stone lantern, its pale granite softly glowing under the moonlight.
"Yue," he called, his voice tense. "Look at this."
She joined him, seeing a fresh red mark on the lantern—a stylized dragon curled around a mountain peak.
"It's the symbol of my dream. The one you said belongs to—"
"The Yun Kingdom," Wan said, his face darkening, fingers hovering above the mark. "Their royal sigil."
"Do you recognize it?" Yue asked, though she already knew the answer.
Wan nodded grimly. "Yun loyalists."
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Moonlight streamed through the paper windows of Yue's quarters, casting long shadows on the floor. The night air felt chillier than during the day, and she pulled her robe tighter, feeling exposed in Pine Frost Wing.
General Wan paced the small area, his steps measured and quiet despite his unease.
He had insisted on escorting her back after their discovery in the garden, checking every corner before speaking.
"The Yun loyalists are back," he said softly, ensuring his voice wouldn't carry beyond the walls.
Yue's fingers trembled slightly as she touched the token. "And they're here? In the Summer Palace?"
Wan nodded grimly. "My spies revealed that someone inside these walls aids their cause. Someone with access to the imperial family."
Yue felt a deep shiver that had nothing to do with the cool night air.
Her mind was full of worrying thoughts: The tiger attack, the kidnapping of Prince Li Sheng, the mysterious red lotus petal, and the wild boar that nearly harmed Consort Shu.
The Summer Palace, with its calm lakes and beautiful gardens, no longer felt safe but filled with hidden dangers.
"The Emperor—" she began to say.
"He is their main target," Wan said, finishing her thought.
"There had been multiple attacks throughout the years."
"Our information suggests they plan to assassinate him before autumn ends. They might have something planned for the upcoming feast," said Wan in a stern voice.
Yue lowered herself onto a cushion, her mind racing with fear.
"I need your help," Wan said, kneeling before her. His eyes, usually warm and kind when looking at her, were filled with an urgent need.
"Both the Emperor and Consort Shu trust you. You move through different circles in the palace and might hear things others miss."
He held her hands firmly but gently, showing his concern.
"I need someone on the inside, someone watching closely. Someone who can notice things my guards might overlook."