The autumn of the tenth year of Minghui arrived with a chill more biting than in Linzhou. Within the palace walls, the paulownia trees shed their leaves in vast waves. Golden foliage blanketed the blue-stone pathways, only to be swept away silently by palace attendants, as if it had never existed. Half a year had passed since Gu Liang's return to the palace. The initial panic and bewilderment had gradually been replaced by a tense, relentless busyness that allowed no moment of slackening.
Emperor Gu Heng showered this long-lost granddaughter with extraordinary care and expectations. Scholars from the Hanlin Academy took turns instructing her, filling her schedule to the brim with courses on the classics, histories, philosophies, and political treatises. while palace matrons meticulously instructed her in every imperial protocol—from the rituals of grand ceremonies to the minutest daily manners—demanding perfection in all. Gu Liang was like a sponge tossed into a torrent, forced to absorb everything rapidly, striving to mold herself into the image of a proper imperial heir.
Emma observed coldly as the childishness in Gu Liang's eyes gradually faded, replaced by occasional flashes of authority—a regal bearing even he hadn't fully recognized. She felt a complex sense of relief at his growth, yet simultaneously, a distinct chasm called "distance" silently widened and deepened between them.
They still spent every waking hour together, yet the moments when they could truly be alone and share intimate thoughts grew increasingly rare. Gu Liang's world was now filled with vast knowledge systems, intricate court etiquette, and the scrutinizing gazes from all sides. As for Emma, while she diligently fulfilled her role as a personal attendant, the contemplation deep within her heart about her own future path grew ever clearer and more urgent.
One day, after finishing her morning lectures at the Imperial Academy, Gu Liang returned to Zhilan Pavilion. Her face bore a lingering weariness, yet it also held a subtle excitement born of having her scholarship acknowledged. She dismissed the attending palace attendants, leaving only Emma, who was tidying the desk.
"Emma," Gu Liang's voice carried a barely perceptible note of dependence, as if returning to the moments in the Su household when she shared secrets with her, "Today, the Emperor asked about the successes and failures of governance in previous dynasties. I cited the principle you once mentioned to me: 'Water can carry a boat, but it can also overturn it.' After hearing this, the Emperor pondered deeply and praised my exceptional insight."
Emma's hands never paused as she arranged the books, her tone as calm as still water. "Your Highness possesses such brilliant intellect and remarkable insight. His Majesty is naturally pleased." She carefully returned a set of Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government to its shelf, her movements meticulous and precise.
Gu Liang watched her composed demeanor and felt an inexplicable pang of loss. She stepped closer, tugging at Emma's sleeve, her voice tinged with pleading. "Emma, we're alone here. You and I both know—without your early guidance, how could I have grasped those principles? Can we... can we be like we were before?"
Emma paused, lifting her eyes to meet Gu Liang's. Those once clear eyes, filled only with dependence and trust, now held the unquestionable resolve of the Imperial Granddaughter. She gently withdrew her sleeve and lowered her gaze. "Princess, times have changed. Walls have ears; it is best to be cautious with words. Those old matters were merely this servant fulfilling her duty. Your Highness need not dwell on them constantly."
Her voice remained steady, yet it felt like an invisible wall, pushing back the distance Gu Liang had tried to bridge.
Gu Liang gazed at her serene, unruffled face. Those usually tranquil dark eyes now held only a heart-chilling detachment. A sense of helplessness seized her. She possessed noble status, the affection of her imperial grandfather, and the reverence of countless people. Yet it seemed she was losing the most precious thing she had ever known.
This helplessness reached its peak during a palace banquet several days later.
It was a small family gathering, attended only by the Emperor and Empress, Gu Liang, and two imperial princes of lesser birth with their families. During the banquet, the conversation somehow turned to the attendants serving Gu Liang. One imperial prince's consort smiled and remarked that the elder sister brought from outside the palace, who served the princess, seemed steady and proper, someone one could rely on just by looking at her.
Emperor Minghui, Gu Heng, heard this and turned his gaze to Emma standing behind Gu Liang, his eyes carrying a hint of scrutiny and subtle inquiry. He cared deeply for this granddaughter, and naturally, he paid extra attention to this overly quiet girl with piercingly clear eyes standing beside her.
Gu Liang, noticing this, felt a stir within. Perhaps eager to demonstrate her own closeness and regard for Emma to her imperial grandfather, or perhaps subconsciously seeking to break the invisible barrier between them, she blurted out: "Grandfather, Sister Emma has been by my side for many years. We are as close as sisters. Within the palace, she is the only one I truly trust. I humbly request permission to promote Emma to Chief Attendant of Zhilan Pavilion, granting her a fifth-rank salary without requiring examination by the Imperial Household Department."
The room fell instantly silent. Several imperial consorts exchanged meaningful glances. The position of Chief Lady-in-Waiting carried significant prestige, especially with a fifth-rank salary—far exceeding the status of ordinary palace maids or even some lower-ranking consorts. More crucially, bypassing the Imperial Household Department's examination and granting the title directly through the princess's request nearly shattered palace regulations and precedent.
Emma lowered her head, her hands clenching slightly within her sleeves. She hadn't anticipated Gu Liang's impulsiveness. This "favor," while seemingly glorious, was actually roasting her alive! Not only would it draw the scrutiny of the entire harem, but it would also cement her reputation as "arrogant due to favor" and "bewitching the sovereign." It would permanently bind her to the role of "Gu Liang's accessory," leaving her no room for maneuver.
Emperor Gu Heng remained silent, his gaze shifting between Gu Liang's expectant face and Emma's bowed head.
Just as Gu Heng was about to speak, Emma stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and spoke with clear, composed voice: "Your Majesty, I am deeply moved by the Princess's kindness. Yet palace regulations are strict and governed by established rules. This humble servant is inexperienced, having neither merit nor service. Should I be granted such an extraordinary promotion, it would be difficult to convince the others, and it would not be in keeping with the Princess's virtuous reputation. I earnestly request that Your Majesty and the Princess withdraw this decree, allowing this humble servant to be promoted according to the established order, so as to preserve the dignity and propriety of the palace."
Her words poured like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the fervor in Gu Liang's eyes.
Gu Liang stared at Emma kneeling before him, her face drained of color. Had she been rejected—humiliated—before everyone, by the very person he trusted most?
Yet Emperor Gu Heng's eyes flickered with a barely perceptible hint of approval. He glanced at his pale granddaughter, then at Emma, kneeling with dignified composure, and spoke slowly: "Since she insists, let the palace rules prevail. Liang'er, you do need capable people by your side, but you must not rush things."
The storm seemed to have passed.
After the palace banquet, back in Zhilan Pavilion, Gu Liang dismissed everyone and lashed out at Emma for the first time.
"Why?!" Her eyes reddened, her voice thick with hurt and fury. "I was fighting for you! With an official rank, no one would dare look down on you! Why did you say those things before the Emperor? You made me... made me look like a laughingstock!"
Emma watched her silently, waiting until her emotions had somewhat settled before speaking calmly: "Princess, tall trees catch the wind. If this servant were suddenly elevated to a high position, I would only become a target for everyone. At that point, not only would I be in danger myself, but I would also tarnish the Princess's reputation. In the palace, one misstep can lead to an abyss. This servant... cannot become the Princess's weakness."
Her reasoning was sound, her composure bordering on cruelty.
Gu Liang stared at her blankly, suddenly feeling that the Emma before her was utterly unfamiliar. She was no longer the sister who had wrapped a scarf around her neck in the snow, taught her to read, and risked her life for her. She had become calculating, weighing every move, becoming... indistinguishable from those masked figures within the palace walls.
"You're always like this... always so cold! Don't you feel even a shred of joy for me? Don't you want to be closer to me?" Gu Liang's voice trembled with tears. "Or is it that you never wanted to stay by my side at all?"
Emma felt as if a needle had pricked her heart, a subtle yet distinct ache spreading through her. She looked into Gu Liang's wounded eyes, nearly losing control and reaching out to comfort her. But in the end, she only lowered her eyelids further, concealing all emotion behind her thick lashes.
"My duty is to serve the Princess well," she replied evasively, her voice utterly flat.
"Princess?" Gu Liang recoiled as if stung by the word, taking a step back. A bitter smile—a mix of sorrow and self-mockery—curled her lips. "Yes, I'm just a 'princess.' A princess who can't even secure a title for her own people!"
Emma's lips trembled, yet no words escaped her. Just as this suffocating silence began to permeate Zhilan Pavilion—
Within the Purple Palace Hall, "Your Majesty, at today's palace banquet..." Wang Dequan reported in a low voice.
Emperor Minghui, Gu Heng, waved his hand, cutting him off. He gazed out the window, as if he could see the brightly lit Zhilan Pavilion.
"She fell?" The emperor's tone betrayed no emotion.
"The Imperial Granddaughter... Your Highness, she is still young, but..."
"But what?" The emperor chuckled softly, tapping his fingertips on the armrest of the dragon throne. "But why, since I have granted her the actual authority of 'Your Highness,' should I refuse to grant her the title of 'Imperial Granddaughter'?"
Wang Dequan bowed deeply, daring not to respond.
"Jade uncarved remains a mere stone," the Emperor's voice was low and icy. "Issuing this decree now would only harm her. Countless open and hidden attacks will come under the guise of 'rightful title'! Tell her that if she desires recognition, she may—
His gaze was sharp as a blade, piercing through the palace walls:
"Earn it herself!"
Those icy words, "earn it yourself," seemed to pierce through the palace walls, solidifying into tangible pressure that weighed heavily upon both young girls' shoulders.
Gu Liang watched her like this, all her grievances and fury seeming to hit cotton—powerless and hopeless. She spun abruptly, her shoulders trembling slightly, refusing to look at Emma again.
"Leave. I'm tired."
Emma silently bowed and slipped out of the inner chamber.
The palace doors closed behind her, sealing off the inner and outer worlds. Leaning against a cold corridor pillar, Emma slowly closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of the chilly autumn night air.
The crack had already appeared. And as Gu Liang's status solidified and his power grew, this fissure would only deepen, becoming increasingly difficult to mend.
She knew her choice would pain Gu Liang, but she knew even more clearly that in the depths of the palace, acting on emotion would only push them both into greater peril. She had to stay clear-headed, had to build her own foundation for standing on her own feet, independent of Gu Liang's favor.
Yet this path seemed far lonelier than she had imagined.
Emma walked straight back to her secluded quarters. The small room held no lamps; only the cool moonlight streamed through the high window, casting cold, square patches on the floor. She sat upright on the edge of the bed, her silhouette in the moonlight like a silent statue. Gu Liang's gaze, mingled with tears and obsession, lingered before her eyes.
She finally saw clearly: the bond called "friendship" had been forged by Gu Liang's own power into a cold, unyielding chain. The old dream of "staying until she was secure and then leaving" now dawned on her with brutal clarity—it had been a delusion from the start. From the moment she had relented and stepped through the palace gates, she had surrendered her freedom of choice.
What chilled her even more was the realization that she was sinking deeper and deeper against her will. From initial protection to scheming and shielding him from calamity, she had even begun habitually contemplating how to solidify Gu Liang's position—this had long surpassed her original intentions. The dependence and unquestioning possessiveness in Gu Liang's gaze grew clearer each time he looked at her, dragging her into an inescapable vortex.
If she didn't extricate herself now, she would forever lose the chance to leave, becoming nothing more than a bird with clipped wings, trapped within the golden cage of the palace, destined only to sing.
It was time. She had to make a clean break.
She chose an afternoon when Gu Liang had just finished his imperial lectures and was in a relatively good mood. In the inner chambers of Zhilan Pavilion, with all attendants dismissed, she clearly voiced her request for the first time.
"Your Highness," Emma knelt respectfully, her voice calm yet resolute, "I have been honored by your trust and have served you faithfully until now. You have adapted to palace life, your studies have advanced, and you are well cared for by your attendants and maids. My purpose here is fulfilled. I humbly beg your permission... to leave the palace."
The inner chamber fell so silent one could hear the faint rise of incense smoke from the censer.
The faint smile on Gu Liang's face froze. She stared blankly at Emma kneeling before her, the scroll in her hand slamming onto her knees with a sharp thud.
"What... did you say?" Her voice trembled with disbelief.
"This servant begs to leave the palace," Emma repeated, bowing her head even lower.
"Why?" Gu Liang sprang to her feet, her voice rising sharply, laced with a stinging edge. "You want to leave me? You want to leave me at this moment?"
She strode to Emma's side, her eyes instantly reddening. "Is it because of what happened at the palace banquet the other day? Are you still blaming me? Or do you think I no longer need you?"
"It has nothing to do with the banquet." Emma lifted her head, meeting Gu Liang's gaze with eyes clear yet sorrowful. "Precisely because the Princess has grown up, I should depart. You are the phoenix of the heavens, destined to soar. Those who stand by your side should be capable ministers and diligent officials, not a mere shadow of the past who only reminds you of hardship. I... cannot bear to be your burden."
"Who says that!" Gu Liang's voice cracked with tears. She seized Emma's arm so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I need you! I've always needed you! Emma, you know this... You know perfectly well that in this palace, you are my only one!"
At this moment, Gu Liang was no longer the imperial granddaughter whose authority grew daily. She resembled a child terrified of abandonment, clutching desperately at her sole lifeline with childish stubbornness and despair.
Emma watched her tears fall, a sharp pang of pain piercing her heart, nearly softening her resolve. But she knew that yielding now would spell eternal ruin.
"Princess..." she tried to say more.
"I forbid it!" Gu Liang snapped, abruptly cutting her off. She released her grip and took two steps back. Wiping her tears harshly with her sleeve, her face hardened into a stubborn expression that mingled hurt and anger.
"Emma, listen carefully." Gu Liang's voice turned cold, carrying the unquestionable command of an imperial granddaughter. "You are my palace maid. Your contract is held by the palace. Your fate is determined by palace regulations!"
She walked to the writing desk, unfolded a sheet of paper, dipped her brush in ink. Her wrist trembled slightly with emotion, yet her handwriting bore a fierce resolve:
"Effective immediately, palace maid Emma is promoted to head maid of Zhilan Pavilion, assigned exclusively to attend this palace mistress. She shall not leave her post without my written command."
She set down the brush and looked at Emma, her gaze complex—filled with pain, anger, and above all, an unyielding resolve to keep her firmly within her grasp:
"You wish to leave? Only over my dead body."
Emma stared at the ink-still-wet decree, as if witnessing an invisible shackle crashing down upon her. She closed her eyes, the last flicker of hope extinguished within her heart.
She had lost. Not to Gu Liang's tears, but to this unshakable imperial authority.
"This servant... obeys." She bowed her head deeply, her voice utterly flat. When she lifted her head again, her face was a mask of silent indifference.
She rose, bowed respectfully, then turned and walked out the door without a single glance back.
The heavy palace doors closed behind her, swallowing Gu Liang's stifled sobs and crushing the freedom she had once yearned for.
Gu Liang watched Emma's retreating figure bow deeply and depart without a backward glance. The thunderous slam of the palace doors felt like a blow to her heart, and her sobs abruptly ceased. She collapsed back into her chair, gasping for breath as if she had just survived a life-and-death struggle. She raised her trembling hand and stared at the brush that had just written the command—
In that moment, she felt no triumphant joy, only a near-despairing sense of relief. It was as though... as though she had finally chained the kite about to soar away with the wind using the strongest chains. She had sullied their snow, yet she had finally kept her within her own winter.