Upon returning to the palace, Zuo Canglang went to the Imperial Study to report to Murong Yan. Just as she reached the entrance, she happened upon Jiang Bilan and Jiang Biyao. Jiang Biyao stared at her, her beautiful eyes bloodshot. Zuo Canglang met her gaze and said, "Consort Xian."
Jiang Biyao lunged forward suddenly, her hands clawing toward Zuo Canglang’s face. "You’ve finally hounded my father to his death! Are you satisfied now?!" she shrieked.
Zuo Canglang simply stepped aside to avoid her. Eunuch An and several palace attendants rushed forward to restrain Jiang Biyao. As she struggled wildly, the doors to the Imperial Study swung open. Murong Yan stood in the doorway, his voice cold. "In broad daylight, making such a scene—where is your decorum?"
Jiang Biyao threw herself toward him, weeping. "Your Majesty! My father followed you for many years. Even if he erred, does he truly have no merit to his name? How can Your Majesty be so heartless as to put him to death over a minor mistake!"
Only then did Jiang Bilan speak: "Biyao!"
Murong Yan’s expression darkened. "Heartless? Jiang Biyao, you are becoming increasingly bold."
Jiang Biyao’s eyes were blurred with tears. "Is it not so? When Your Majesty dismissed the former ministers, my father did his utmost to stabilize the court. When Your Majesty implemented the new policies, my father worked tirelessly. And now, based solely on the testimony of a single servant, Your Majesty actually..."
"Enough!" Murong Yan interrupted. "It seems Consort Xian is truly filled with resentment toward me. Wang Yunzhao, find her a quiet place to calm her mind. As for Ze’er, let the Queen raise him from now on."
Wang Yunzhao hurriedly complied.
Murong Yan glanced at Jiang Bilan and said, "That is all. Everyone, leave. Ah-Zuo, come in."
Zuo Canglang walked slowly into the room. Murong Yan asked, "Is it settled?"
Zuo Canglang nodded. Murong Yan continued, "Before he died, did he have nothing to say?"
"Nothing much," Zuo Canglang replied. "Just a few grievances, nothing more."
Murong Yan let out a cold laugh. "Now that Jiang Qi, Jiang Yi, and the others have been brought back to await their sentence, what are your thoughts?"
Zuo Canglang said, "They are the remnants of a criminal official; naturally, everything is for Your Majesty to decide."
"Do you have no opinion at all?" Murong Yan asked.
"In front of Your Majesty, what room is there for a humble official like me to speak?" Zuo Canglang replied.
Murong Yan looked at her. "Since when have you become so cautious before me?"
Zuo Canglang raised her head and smiled. "From the day Your Majesty became the Emperor."
Murong Yan approached her, reaching out to tilt her chin up. "I knew you had no interest in the plays on the stage, so I arranged another performance for you. Why is it that after watching it, you still seem unhappy?"
Zuo Canglang said, "I thought Your Majesty was 'killing the chicken to warn the monkey.' In my sudden terror, how would I dare feel joy?"
Murong Yan’s face clouded slightly, but eventually, he pulled her slowly into his embrace. After a long silence, he said, "You need not worry about that. You are a possession I intend to take into my tomb with me; how could I allow you to go before I do?"
Zuo Canglang said nothing. He gently stroked her back in the wordless silence.
That afternoon, Jiang Biyao was moved out of Linhuan Hall and settled in the remote Changning Pavilion. Changning Pavilion had been a residence for concubines of the previous dynasty and had long been abandoned. It was a bleak, desolate place that even the palace servants avoided.
As Jiang Biyao stepped inside, she saw only a sealed ancient well and windows nailed shut. Only then did she feel the grip of fear. "Chief Wang! I want to see His Majesty one more time! I must see His Majesty one more time!"
Wang Yunzhao slowly pushed her hand away and said softly, "Your Ladyship still does not understand His Majesty."
Without another word, he gestured for the attendants to force her into Changning Pavilion. Even then, Jiang Biyao could not believe Murong Yan would truly have the heart to discard her in such a dilapidated palace. But from that day forward, Murong Yan never summoned her again.
The world outside was henceforth irrelevant to her. She was left with only two elderly maids who cared for her sporadically. Sometimes, when it rained, she would reach her hand out to listen to the sound. Those hands, once white and slender, eventually became withered and sallow, losing all their color. She spent her days pounding on the doors and windows, until finally, she could no longer even understand what she was screaming.
No one ever visited Changning Pavilion again.
Jiang Bilan did not go to see Jiang Biyao. She finally took back the eldest prince, Murong Ze, but by then, the boy was no longer close to her. Her maid, Huayue, whispered, "Your Majesty, will you not say a few words for Consort Xian? A place like Changning Pavilion... it could drive a living person mad."
Jiang Bilan fed Murong Ze and Murong Dui, saying, "It is useless. She actually thought she could rely on his favor. But a man like him... a man like him..." Her voice choked, but when she looked down at the two children, she forced back her tears. She smiled and said, "Huayue, do you believe it? I truly did love him once."
Her eyelashes lowered like small fans, veiling the light in her eyes.
A few days later, Murong Yan exiled Jiang Qi, Jiang Yi, and the others. However, the men sent to escort them were under the command of Yuan E, a confidant of Yuan Xi. How could Yuan E let them go? Before they even reached the Northwest, they had already "died of illness" on the road.
Upon receiving the news, Jiang Bilan fell bedridden. By the time the spring warmth arrived, she finally recovered slightly, but the spirit had vanished from her eyes and brow. The title of the "Number One Beauty" was no longer hers to claim.
Within the palace, Queen Jiang Bilan lacked the Emperor's favor. Because of her origins, Murong Yan almost never visited Luosha’s palace. Jiang Biyao was now a deposed consort, and Keqing was pregnant, leaving only Ban Yang. When court officials suggested a new imperial selection, Murong Yan refused.
Zuo Canglang took the opportunity to suggest, "Xuan’er is growing up; his parentage cannot be hidden forever. Since the harem is empty, why doesn't Your Majesty simply give Zhitong a title?"
Murong Yan asked, "If I give her a title, will Xuan’er still be raised by your side?"
Zuo Canglang smiled. "I... after all, I have no official title or rank. Raising a prince is, in the end, not quite proper."
Murong Yan said, "I have told you before, why must you be so stubborn about a title?"
Zuo Canglang replied, "But in the end, when Your Majesty passes after a hundred years, you will share a tomb with the Queen. Though I have long been away from the battlefield, I still do not wish to be buried in the Consorts' Mausoleum."
Murong Yan fell silent. After a moment, he changed the subject. "What title would be appropriate for Zhitong?"
"Lady of Refinement," Zuo Canglang said. "She is, after all, the one who bore a prince."
Murong Yan nodded. "As you wish."
A few days later, Murong Yan invested Zhitong as a fourth-rank consort, Lady of Refinement. After receiving the decree, Zhitong continued to care for Zuo Canglang and Murong Xuan in Nanqing Palace as before. She felt little triumph—after that night at Fuhe Hall, when the water at the heart of the winter lake was cold to the bone, who would dare feel triumphant?
She said, "General, Zhitong does not wish to be a consort. In truth, as long as I can stay by the Third Prince's side and accompany the General, I am satisfied. I..."
Zuo Canglang said, "The Third Prince will grow up sooner or later. It would not be good for him to have a biological mother who is a mere wet nurse. You are now a fourth-rank consort; do not refer to yourself as 'this servant' in front of me anymore."
"No." Zhitong knelt. "The General’s kindness to Zhitong is like a second birth. Before the General, Zhitong will always be a servant."
Zuo Canglang reached out and stroked her hair. "I know you will not love him again, but try to forget what happened that day. Even if you cannot forget, you must hide it." Zhitong froze as Zuo Canglang continued, "If only for Xuan’er’s sake, you must live a better life."
By the end of the third month, Keqing went into labor. Everyone knew Murong Yan wanted a daughter, but this child was another boy. Upon hearing the news, Murong Yan merely ordered the Imperial Physicians to take good care of them. If it was not something he wanted, he no longer had the interest to even spare it a glance.
Keqing waited from dawn until dusk. As night began to fall, footsteps sounded outside. She sat up with difficulty and asked in a hoarse voice, "Is it His Majesty?"
A maid entered and said, "Lady Keqing, it is time for dinner."
The spark in Keqing’s eyes instantly died. That man would not come. His repeated favors had truly been for nothing more than a daughter. She said weakly, "I have no appetite. Take it away."
The maid complied and removed the food. Keqing turned on her side, and after a long while, her tears finally soaked the pillow.
By April, it was the Cold Food Festival. Murong Yan once again held ancestral rites at Chengtian Pavilion, also commemorating the soldiers who fell at Yuhou Pass.
Zuo Canglang followed behind Jiang Bilan. Turning her head, she saw Daxi Qin. Daxi Qin was also looking at her, his gaze holding a soft, joyful light. Zuo Canglang stopped her pace and waited for him to approach before saying, "Is Marquis Jinyu feeling better?"
Daxi Qin bowed slightly. "The physicians say the residual poison has been cleared. I am grateful for the General’s concern."
Zuo Canglang said, "Then I am relieved. Is Yirong behaving himself by your side?"
Daxi Qin walked beside her. "Yirong is very good, but the Duke of Ding... it seems he no longer wishes for him to join the military. He mentioned to me a couple of days ago that he only hopes for the boy to study poetry and literature." Had he finally lost heart?
Zuo Canglang nodded. "That is for the best."
Then, there was nothing more to say. As they walked, only the sound of their footsteps could be heard. Their sleeves brushed as they were bathed in the glow of the sunset.
After walking together for a short while, Zuo Canglang returned to the ranks of the consorts, and Daxi Qin stopped looking her way. The maids currently attending her were almost all Wang Yunzhao’s confidants; he feared any conversation would reach the wrong ears. He could not say more.
Not long after Zuo Canglang moved ahead, Zhitong arrived leading Murong Xuan. Compared to Zhitong, Murong Xuan preferred Zuo Canglang. As soon as he arrived, he immediately ran to her side. Zhitong did not stop him, her smile soft and warm. Zuo Canglang had no choice but to take his hand. "Slow down, little ancestor."
Murong Xuan asked, "Why didn't you wait for me?"
Zuo Canglang replied, "Isn't your mother-consort waiting for you?"
Murong Xuan said seriously, "But you used to always wait for me! Why aren't you my mother-consort? How did my wet nurse become my mother-consort?"
Zuo Canglang felt a bit of a headache. "Because she is the one who gave birth to you."
"What is 'giving birth'?" Murong Xuan asked.
Zuo Canglang said, "Giving birth means bringing the Third Prince into this world."
Murong Xuan stared with wide eyes. "Then why didn't you give birth to me? Why didn't you bring me into this world?"
Zuo Canglang took a deep breath. "Who told you not to crawl into my belly?"
Murong Xuan got angry but gripped her sleeve even tighter. "If I didn't crawl in, couldn't you have just tucked me in yourself?"
Zuo Canglang gave his little bottom a light kick.
Jiang Bilan, walking ahead, glanced back. A palace attendant spoke up: "Third Prince, one must be solemn during the ancestral rites. No rowdiness is allowed."
Murong Xuan huffed. Seeing Jiang Bilan’s long trailing skirt, he suddenly reached out a foot and stepped on the hem. Caught off guard, Jiang Bilan cried out and fell backward. Just as she was about to tumble down the long stone steps, Zuo Canglang reached out and gave her a gentle prop. Jiang Bilan finally regained her footing and turned to meet Zuo Canglang’s eyes. Since Jiang Sanyi’s death, she seemed to have aged ten years. This time, however, she said nothing and continued forward.
Once she was far enough away, Zuo Canglang gave Murong Xuan a swat on the head. Murong Xuan looked up with his tender little face, half-pouting and half-arrogant. "Why did you help her? Isn't she your love rival?"
Zuo Canglang laughed in spite of herself. "Love rival? Do you even know what a love rival is?"
Murong Xuan tugged at her sleeve again. "If I don't know, you can just tell me!"
At that moment, the morning sun hung like gold, and the steps of Chengtian Pavilion stretched upward as if without end. All around were gauze caps and purple robes, a gathering of the nobility. Love rivals? Zuo Canglang held his small hand and walked forward, step by step.
In this den of tigers and wolves, love is but a fleeting shadow. Where would rivals even come from?
