Jiang Shuyi could already guess what sort of schemes Xue Shufei might be plotting, but she didn’t give it a second thought.

  Judging by the timeline of this life, just three months ago, Xue Shufei had secretly given her own son a mild poison and tried to frame Jiang Shuyi, who was then pregnant.

  But didn’t Pei Yan refuse to believe it? He had immediately said he would have the Ministry of Justice investigate thoroughly, which scared Xue Shufei so much she hastily threw a pace maid under the carriage to take the bme.

  So long as she had Pei Yan’s protection, what did these people amount to?

  —

  After the new consorts were settled in, they were summoned to gather outside Kunning Pace just before midday, awaiting their audience.

  Following the Empress’s command, the newcomers entered the hall in order of rank.

  Leading the way were Jiang Wanqing and Wen Yao, both newly appointed Guiren. But Jiang Wanqing was clearly dressed far more extravagantly, her gown made of the finest Shu brocade—likely a tribute fabric recently bestowed upon Jiang Fei by His Majesty himself.

  Yet her expression didn’t look good. As she entered, her gaze darted anxiously around the room until it nded on Jiang Shuyi, at which point she froze, a flicker of grievance and accusation rising in her eyes.

  Jiang Shuyi didn’t need to guess—of course, it was about the sudden change in her residence.

  How dare she still have the face to act so wronged?

  Jiang Shuyi sneered inwardly. If she weren’t afraid that acting too drastically would raise suspicion, she’d have already found a rope and strangled this ungrateful snake, just like how she herself had died.

  Xue Shufei’s eyes flitted back and forth between the two sisters, clearly reading something into the tension.

  As per court etiquette, the new consorts had to perform the three kneels and nine kowtows before the Empress. At the eunuch’s call, Jiang Wanqing had no choice but to kneel alongside the others, kowtow once, rise, then kneel again, and repeat.

  By the end of the ritual, her back ached and her legs were shaking.

  Empress Shen spoke in a ft, even tone, telling them to rise and unching into a string of the usual dull formalities.

  They were now all sisters in the pace, she said, and must get along in harmony. They must focus on serving His Majesty and avoid jealousy or petty disputes.

  The seated consorts had heard it all before and were already sizing up the newcomers, especially Jiang Fei’s younger sister.

  She did bear a slight resembnce to Jiang Fei, particurly the pair of almond-shaped eyes that made their sisterhood clear. But their auras were vastly different.

  Jiang Fei had skin like snow and a beauty both bold and bewitching—like one of those legendary temptresses who could topple a dynasty. In contrast, Jiang Guiren had a gentler air, long willow brows and delicate features—pure and docile, the picture of a proper young dy from a respectable household.

  Everyone had assumed Jiang Fei brought her sister into the pace to mimic the famous sisters Zhao Feiyan and Zhao Hede of Emperor Cheng’s time, hoping to monopolize imperial favor together.

  (Transtor Xiaobai: Zhao Feiyan and Zhao Hede were two famous sisters from the Han Dynasty, known for their stunning beauty and being favorites of Emperor Cheng. Zhao Feiyan became Empress, renowned for her graceful, “swallow-like” movements. Zhao Hede, her younger sister, was deeply favored and known for being cunning and jealous. After Emperor Cheng's sudden death (believed by some to be due to excessive indulgence with the sisters), the new emperor forced Zhao Hede to commit suicide, and Empress Zhao Feiyan was deposed and ter died in disgrace.)

  But this? This was the pn?

  Jiang Wanqing didn’t notice the subtle gnces of amusement and disappointment. She stood with her head lowered, her legs starting to go numb, her heart restless.

  Couldn’t her sister see how pale and tired she looked? How could she just sit there and say nothing?

  And what about the arrangement? Wasn’t she promised a pce in Zhaoyang Pace? How had she ended up being sent to Xue Shufei’s Xianfu Pace instead?

  “And as you’ve seen,” the Empress finally concluded, “most of the sisters in the harem are quite friendly. As long as you observe proper conduct, you’ll get along just fine. Only Jiang Fei is still a bit young and spoiled. Even I, and the other sisters here, tend to avoid crossing her.”

  Just like that, Empress Shen turned the conversation sharply toward Jiang Shuyi.

  Jiang Shuyi raised an eyebrow at her.

  The Empress’s expression remained bnk as she continued addressing the newcomers. “So I advise you all—be cautious not to offend her. Otherwise, none of us will have peace.”

  The new consorts all lowered their gazes, pretending to study the floor.

  Before entering the pace, most of their families had inquired about the current situation at court. Everyone knew Jiang Fei was in high favor and held immense influence.

  But they hadn’t expected the Empress to say something so direct, and on their very first day.

  Should they acknowledge it? What if Jiang Fei took offense?

  Jiang Shuyi had already grown tired of sitting. Now, the Empress had handed her the perfect excuse.

  She abruptly stood up and scoffed. “Your Majesty, I’ve always treated you with the utmost respect. I’ve never once overstepped. And yet, before the entire harem, you snder me like this? I refuse to accept it. I’m going to see His Majesty and ask for justice!”

  The consorts: …

  “Utmost respect?”

  “Never overstepped?”

  Sure.

  Empress Shen’s fingers curled into a tight fist, her expression turning colder by the second.

  Just as Jiang Shuyi was about to stride out of the hall, a small, trembling voice suddenly echoed:

  “Sister…”

  Her steps paused slightly, and she turned her head.

  Jiang Wanqing looked nervously between her and Empress Shen, then timidly stepped forward, gently tugging at Jiang Shuyi’s sleeve as she pleaded, “Her Majesty is the mistress of the Six Paces… Sister, don’t be disrespectful to the Empress like this, please? I’m scared…”

  The exact same words.

  In her past life, Jiang Wanqing had said these words to stop her from defending Feng Meiren. And now? What excuse did she have this time?

  Jiang Shuyi gnced at her coolly. “You’re scared?”

  Jiang Wanqing nodded quickly.

  Jiang Shuyi let out a soft ugh. “Then from now on, stay far away from me. Otherwise—”

  She tilted her head slightly, leaning in to whisper beside Jiang Wanqing’s ear, her voice low and calm:“One day, I will kill you.”

  Jiang Wanqing stood frozen in pce, staring at her in disbelief, unable to process what she’d just heard.

  Jiang Shuyi flicked her sleeves and turned to leave. Empress Shen watched her back with clear disgust, her expression dark. Only after a long pause did she ease her tone and turn to Jiang Wanqing, a flicker of surprise and approval in her eyes.

  “Jiang Guiren, I didn’t expect you to be so sensible.”

  Jiang Wanqing slowly came back to herself, still dazed, unsure what to say.

  Had… had she heard wrong just now?

  Her sister had always taken great care of her, especially after their mother passed away. Jiang Wanqing had become her only remaining family. Her sister had once loved her so much she would’ve given her life for her.

  No… she must have misheard. She had to have misheard.

  ____

  Jiang Shuyi didn’t actually go to report anything.

  She returned to Zhaoyang Pace.

  Seeing her son reminded her of her previous life. These two—the most closely tied to her by blood—had both delivered unbearable heartbreak.

  Pei Yu was only five months old now, plump and rosy. He was chewing happily on his little fist as the wet nurse brought him over.

  The baby was contentedly gnawing away, but the moment he spotted Jiang Shuyi, his eyes lit up. He babbled with joy and waved his chubby, drool-covered hands toward her.

  The wet nurse, Bai Momo, smiled. “The little prince wants Your Highness to hold him.”

  Jiang Shuyi sat on the couch by the window, gncing back at her son with a calm, unreadable expression.

  Pei Yu met her gaze with his big, round eyes for a few moments—then his lips trembled, and he suddenly burst into loud sobs.

  Bai Momo quickly stepped closer. “Please hold him, Your Highness—he’s upset!”

  Upset?

  Before Jiang Shuyi could say a word, Bai Momo brought the swaddled infant closer. The baby’s soft, milky scent wafted into the air, and for a moment, it should have been a tender scene.

  But Jiang Shuyi’s scalp prickled. She recoiled sharply, her whole body retreating as if stung.

  The argument, the shouting, and the way that little boy in her past life had denounced her, righteous and unyielding, casting aside his own mother—those memories all surged back like bdes, cutting deep as the swaddled child neared.

  Jiang Shuyi couldn’t suppress it. She shrieked, furious: “Take him away!”

  Bai Momo was startled and staggered back a few steps, horrified by the sudden outburst.

  Jinzhu, afraid the baby would be frightened, rushed over to soothe the little prince. Yuzhu, tense, stepped quickly to Jiang Shuyi’s side and asked softly, “Your Highness, what’s wrong?”

  Jiang Shuyi didn’t know either.

  Her eyes were red. She looked at the crying infant—his wails briefly paused, then grew louder as Jinzhu and the wet nurse tried to comfort him—and all she felt was a sharp, suffocating pain, like thorns pricking her all over. This child, whom she had nearly died to give birth to—what was she supposed to feel when looking at him?

  A voice in her head whispered: Pei Yu is still a bnk ste. If kept away from schemers, maybe he can be raised well.

  But another voice countered: A person’s nature cannot be changed. If not Jiang Wanqing, it’ll be someone else. This child, who stabbed you in the heart, can never be trusted.

  Jiang Shuyi felt lost and drained. And, as always when she felt like this, she thought of Pei Yan. In her past life, no matter what trouble she faced, everything had a solution when he was there.

  Grasping onto that like a lifeline, her voice trembled as she asked: “Where… where is His Majesty?”