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Morning sunlight spread slowly across the imperial palace like a thin layer of gold.
Courtyards stirred with the quiet rhythm of servants beginning their duties, while the long corridors carried the faint scent of incense and fresh tea leaves.
Yet within the inner palace, where the emperor's consorts resided, peace was rarely as gentle as it appeared.
Behind silk curtains and lacquered screens, rivalry bloomed sharper than any flower in the gardens.
And on this particular morning, several women sat together with expressions that were far from peaceful.
In the chamber of the Royal Consort, several concubines gathered around a polished tea table.
Their garments shimmered in shades of jade, rose, and pale violet, the silks embroidered with delicate cranes and blossoms. Their hairpins glittered beneath the morning light filtering through the lattice windows.
At the center of the gathering sat Royal Consort Ning Xue.
She was a woman of refined beauty—elegant and poised, her movements graceful as drifting snow. Her smile was gentle, her voice soft.
But the women who sat with her knew that behind that serenity hid a sharp mind and a quiet cruelty.
To her right sat Concubine Zhao Liyue, whose beauty was bright and striking. Her eyes often held a glimmer of mischief—or malice.
Across from her lounged Concubine Han Yurong, who possessed a calm, almost calculating composure.
Beside Han Yurong sat Concubine Fang Xinyi, younger than the others but eager to prove her place among them.
A servant quietly refilled their tea cups before retreating.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint clink of porcelain.
Then Zhao Liyue spoke.
"So," she said lightly, stirring her tea, "has anyone seen our silent little beauty today?"
Fang Xinyi giggled behind her sleeve.
"You mean the mute concubine?"
Han Yurong raised a brow. "Lower your voice. Walls have ears."
Zhao Liyue smiled thinly.
"I doubt he could repeat anything we say."
Ning Xue remained silent, lifting her cup gracefully to her lips.
But the faint curve of her smile suggested she was listening very carefully.
Fang Xinyi leaned forward eagerly.
"I heard the Emperor hasn't visited him yet."
Han Yurong hummed thoughtfully. "Not surprising. His Majesty has never favored unusual… arrangements."
Zhao Liyue set down her cup with a soft click.
"Still," she said, voice sharpening slightly, "the palace servants whisper about him constantly."
"His face," Fang Xinyi added, "is prettier than most of ours."
The room fell momentarily quiet.
It was an uncomfortable truth.
Shen Yunxi's beauty had unsettled the inner palace the moment he arrived. His delicate features, pale skin, and quiet demeanor drew attention whether he wished it or not.
And in a place where attention meant power…
That made him dangerous.
Ning Xue finally spoke.
"Jealousy," she said gently, "is unbecoming."
Her words sounded like a reprimand, yet her tone was almost amused.
The other concubines lowered their eyes politely.
After a pause, Ning Xue set down her tea cup.
"But," she continued softly, "the new concubine has been… isolated."
Han Yurong glanced up.
"You sound concerned, Your Highness."
Ning Xue smiled.
"A harmonious palace benefits everyone."
Zhao Liyue tilted her head.
"What are you suggesting?"
The Royal Consort folded her hands calmly in her lap.
"We should invite him to tea."
Fang Xinyi blinked.
"To tea?"
"Yes," Ning Xue replied sweetly. "To apologize for our earlier… misunderstandings."
Zhao Liyue's lips slowly curved into a knowing smile.
"Apologize," she repeated.
Han Yurong's eyes gleamed faintly.
"How generous."
But beneath the polite tone, everyone at the table understood the unspoken meaning.
This invitation would not be kind.
Later that afternoon.....
The imperial garden shimmered beneath warm sunlight.
Spring had fully awakened the landscape. Cherry blossoms drifted through the air like pale snowflakes, settling along stone pathways and rippling ponds.
Near the center of the garden stood a delicate pavilion built above the water, its carved pillars reflected perfectly in the still surface below.
It was here that the concubines had arranged their gathering.
Silk cushions lined the low tea table, while porcelain cups and elegant teapots waited neatly upon a tray.
The women sat gracefully, their laughter drifting across the water like soft music.
From a distance, they appeared the picture of harmony.
But beneath their smiles lurked anticipation.
Elsewhere in the palace, Shen Yunxi received the invitation.
He sat quietly near the window of his chamber when Mei Lian returned with the message.
"They invited you?" Mei repeated in disbelief.
Shen nodded slightly.
The parchment in his hands bore elegant calligraphy.
An apology.
A tea gathering.
Mei frowned.
"I don't trust them," she muttered.
Shen simply folded the letter.
He had already learned something about palace life.
Refusing invitations from higher-ranking consorts could cause more trouble than accepting them.
So he rose quietly.
Mei sighed.
"Then I'm coming with you."
The path to the pavilion wound through blooming gardens and quiet courtyards.
Servants bowed as Shen passed, though many glanced curiously at the silent concubine.
His robe today was pale blue, embroidered with soft cloud patterns. His long dark hair was tied loosely with a ribbon, framing his delicate face.
Even walking silently, he seemed to draw attention.
When the pavilion finally came into view, the laughter of the concubines floated across the water.
Ning Xue noticed him first.
Her smile widened.
"Ah," she said warmly. "He has arrived."
The other women turned.
Zhao Liyue rose gracefully.
"Concubine Shen," she greeted sweetly. "Welcome."
Shen stepped onto the pavilion and bowed politely.
Fang Xinyi gestured toward the cushions.
"Please sit."
To Shen's quiet surprise, the space they offered was beside Ning Xue herself.
The Royal Consort smiled gently as he sat.
"I am glad you came."
Shen lowered his gaze respectfully.
Ning Xue sighed softly.
"I must apologize," she said. "The past few days… may have been unpleasant."
Han Yurong nodded.
"We spoke thoughtlessly."
Fang Xinyi added quickly, "Yes, we truly regret it."
Zhao Liyue pressed a hand to her chest.
"I hope you will forgive us."
Their voices were smooth, sincere.
But something in their eyes remained sharp.
Shen hesitated.
Then he gave a small nod.
The tension seemed to ease instantly.
"How wonderful," Ning Xue said lightly.
A servant poured fresh tea.
Steam rose from the delicate porcelain cups
Zhao Liyue lifted the teapot suddenly.
"Oh dear," she said with a small laugh.
"Concubine Shen's cup is empty."
Before anyone else could respond, she leaned forward.
"Allow me."
Shen instinctively held his cup.
The tea streamed down in a thin amber ribbon.
At first everything seemed normal.
Then—
Her hand tilted slightly.
Too much.
The tea continued pouring.
The cup filled.
Then overflowed.
Hot liquid spilled over the rim—
Directly onto Shen's hands.
The heat struck instantly.
A sharp, burning pain.
Shen flinched.
But he made no sound.
The tea soaked his sleeves, dripping onto the table as steam rose faintly from his reddening skin.
"Oh!" Zhao Liyue gasped.
"How clumsy of me!"
She quickly set down the teapot, covering her mouth with apparent shock.
"I'm so sorry!"
Fang Xinyi leaned forward dramatically.
"Your hands!"
Han Yurong frowned in concern.
"They're turning red."
Ning Xue gently touched Shen's wrist.
"You poor thing."
Her voice was soft, almost pitying.
But her eyes watched carefully.
Shen's hands trembled slightly.
The pain stung sharply against his skin, spreading through his fingers.
His eyes watered from the sudden heat.
Tears gathered at the corners—but he forced himself not to cry.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
"I truly didn't mean it," Zhao Liyue insisted sweetly.
Shen shook his head slightly.
It's fine.
He tried to show with a small gesture.
But the tremble in his fingers betrayed him.
Ning Xue sighed softly.
"Someone bring cool water," she ordered.
A servant hurried forward.
The concubines watched closely as Shen lowered his burning hands into the bowl of cool water.
The relief was immediate—but the redness remained.
Zhao Liyue leaned closer.
"Does it hurt terribly?"
Shen shook his head again.
But the faint shimmer in his eyes told another story.
Fang Xinyi whispered behind her sleeve.
"Poor Concubine Shen."
Han Yurong's lips curved slightly.
Ning Xue smiled gently.
"You must be more careful," she said softly.
Her tone was almost affectionate.
Yet the pavilion air felt colder than before.
Shen lowered his gaze.
He understood.
Their kindness had never been real.
And as the concubines resumed their tea, speaking lightly as though nothing had happened, Shen sat quietly beside them.
Hands trembling faintly in the cool water.
Enduring the humiliation in silence.
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(End of Chapter 6)