The women hesitated for a moment, but in the end, no one said anything. With Guifei leading the way, they all took their leave.

  Outside Fengyi Pace, they exchanged parting words, and those who were close walked together in small groups.

  Guifei and Xian Fei ended up on the same path.

  “The weather is nice. Shall we take a walk?” Xian Fei suggested.

  Guifei smiled. “Sounds good.” The two of them strolled side by side.

  After walking a short distance, Xian Fei spoke. “Ever since Her Majesty’s illness, her personality has changed drastically. I find it quite unsettling.”

  “Indeed. In the past, if Li Fei had arrived te, things would never have been let off so easily. But today was quite the exception. To be honest, you and I both came from the Eastern Pace, and we are both older than Her Majesty. Back then, her old ways made us uncomfortable. Yet now, even like this, I still feel uneasy.”

  Though they were not on the best of terms, they never openly dispyed any hostility.

  The truth was, their situations weren’t too different. Xian Fei was no longer favored, while Guifei, despite being favored, had no son.

  No matter how much the emperor doted on her, a princess was still just a daughter. Over the years, she had tried everything to conceive again, but all to no avail.

  If this continued, even Li Fei and the others would surpass her.

  “It’s not a big deal if the empress has changed,” Xian Fei murmured, frowning slightly. “But Li Fei… she is truly…” She trailed off. “With so many new consorts entering the pace, the number of imperial children will only continue to grow.”

  The women from the Eastern Pace had all suffered one way or another. Both Guifei and Xian Fei had lost their chance to bear more children due to past schemes while they were pregnant.

  Li Zhaoyi had been nothing more than a low-ranking concubine at the time. She only bore a son after entering the pace, when Empress Shen had already passed. That was why she had been able to give birth to the Third Prince in peace.

  Rong Fei was also known to have difficulty conceiving. No one knew whether she had been schemed against or if it was simply her own constitution, but ever since entering the pace, she had only received occasional favor. After suffering a miscarriage, she never conceived again.

  Yang Jieyu and Zhang Meiren were completely unfavored.

  And among the five consorts who entered the pace in the fourth year of Xihe, only Li Fei stood out.

  For years, the most favored women in the harem had been Guifei, Li Fei, Li Zhaoyi, and Rong Fei.

  The rest didn’t matter.

  Even the Empress Dowager’s niece, Fu Meiren, had been left behind, while Hu Meiren had only enjoyed favor for a short while before falling out of grace.

  But this situation would not st forever.

  Guifei, Xian Fei, Rong Fei, and Li Zhaoyi were all growing older. Xian Fei was even a year older than the emperor.

  Among the ten newcomers this year, many were outstanding beauties, and some came from prestigious families. It was only a matter of time before they bore imperial heirs. When that happened, what would become of the older consorts?

  Even Xian Fei, who already had a son, felt uneasy. The Second Prince’s health was extremely poor—far worse than she had let on to Wumian.

  The truth was, the Second Prince was so frail that any day could be his st.

  And if that day came, then what?

  Aging, losing favor, without a son to rely on—unlike the empress, they had no guaranteed pce in the pace. Who could say if they would still be standing?

  In the past, the two had always worked in perfect harmony, instigating the empress to suppress Li Fei and Li Zhaoyi. Now that the empress was no longer pying along, weren’t they just dying of frustration?

  Unaware of these pace intrigues, Wumian simply waited for Lin Baolin to leave before going back to bed for a second round of sleep.

  For the past six months, she had been getting plenty of rest every day. Today’s sleep was clearly insufficient—she had to make up for at least another hour.

  ____

  In the blink of an eye, March 19 arrived—the birthday of Li Fei. Wumian arrived at the Imperial Garden just in time.

  Not all the concubines were present; only those ranked above the Nine Consorts had arrived. Among those ranked below, only Yang Jieyu, Hu Meiren, Fu Meiren, and Zhang Meiren were in attendance. No one else had been invited.

  If not for Fu Meiren, Wumian doubted that Zhang Meiren and Hu Meiren would have had a chance to attend either.

  Wumian wore a red dress today, her attire elegant yet not overly extravagant—she had no interest in stealing Li Fei’s spotlight.

  Sure enough, Li Fei was dressed to the nines today, looking even more radiant than the flowers in bloom.

  “Her Majesty the Empress Dowager has instructed us to enjoy ourselves. His Majesty will be arriving shortly. Your Majesty, please take the seat of honor,” Li Fei said with a bright smile.

  Wumian nodded and gestured for the gift to be brought forward. She had randomly picked some valuable items from the treasury—just something to go through the motions.

  Whether Li Fei liked it or not, she still accepted it with great delight.

  “Li Fei, happiness truly makes one glow—you look even more beautiful today,” Guifei complimented with a smile.

  “Oh, how could I dare call myself beautiful in front of you, Sister? Even His Majesty praises your beauty, saying you are like a celestial fairy,” Li Fei responded pyfully.

  “How could I cim to be the most beautiful when Her Majesty the Empress is present?” Guifei ughed, subtly shifting the focus onto Wumian.

  Wumian smiled. “An empress is an empress, beauty is beauty. Being the empress doesn’t necessarily mean being the most beautiful. Guifei, Li Fei, there’s no need to exchange fttery. You are both stunning in your own ways—His Majesty is truly fortunate.”

  These words were spoken sincerely. Guifei exuded mature charm and allure, while Li Fei had the sweet and delicate beauty of a clingy lover. The emperor was indeed a lucky man.

  “Exactly, exactly! Guifei is the most beautiful of all,” Hu Meiren eagerly chimed in.

  Wumian gnced at her. Tsk, this silly little deer. Does she not realize how obvious her favoritism is? She’s practically begging to offend someone.

  Guifei merely smiled. “Hu Meiren, don’t speak nonsense.”

  Even Guifei wasn’t about to accept such btant fttery from someone so foolish.

  As the conversation continued, a eunuch outside announced His Majesty’s arrival.

  Wumian took the lead in standing up, but she didn’t go out to greet him—she simply waited for him to enter.

  “You may all rise,” Ying Qionglou said, raising his hand slightly.

  Ying Qionglou bore a strong resembnce to the te emperor. His deep-set eyes, long shes, high nose bridge, and sharply defined philtrum made for striking features. His complexion was not pale, and his jet-bck hair was so dark it almost seemed dyed. When he wasn’t speaking or smiling, he had a severe, almost intimidating expression.

  His profile was particurly breathtaking, though his full face was just as handsome—an embodiment of rugged masculinity.

  Rather than the delicate refinement of an aristocratic young lord, he carried the powerful presence of a battle-hardened general.

  But as emperor, the weight of imperial authority further heightened his untouchable aura.

  His hands were also striking—not the fair, delicate hands of a schor, but rather slightly tanned, with clearly defined knuckles and an elegant structure.

  His physique was even more impressive—tall, broad-shouldered, and narrow-waisted. Today, he was dressed in his usual formal attire, bck with crimson trim, adorned with subtle dragon embroidery. His long hair was gathered neatly and secured with a golden crown.

  At this moment, he reached out to help Li Fei up, giving her ample face.

  However, he didn’t overdo it. Turning his gaze toward Wumian, he looked at her with a slight warmth—though he did not smile. “Has the empress been feeling better?”

  “I’m much improved. Many thanks for Your Majesty’s concern. Please, have a seat,” Wumian replied with a slight smile.

  Ying Qionglou nodded, still somewhat puzzled, but he took his seat nonetheless.

  Even though it was Li Fei’s birthday, the empress’s rank was absolute—she sat closest to the emperor, while Guifei and the others took their pces further down.

  “Has Your Majesty been terribly busy? You’ve kept us waiting. Today is Li Fei’s special day,” Guifei teased.

  “My fault,” Ying Qionglou replied easily. “But I’m here now. Yutong, surely you’re generous enough not to hold it against me?”

  “What are you saying, Your Majesty? I could never hold anything against you,” Li Fei cooed, her voice carrying a hint of pyful affection.