Volume III, Real Ancient Capital, Chapter 73: The Queen's Death
By Xiao Xiang Dong'Er | Translated and Arranged by Angel Chua
Chu Qiao waited for a while, but Yan Xun did not return, making her increasingly anxious. After some time, A'Jing lifted the carriage curtain and informed her that Yan Xun had gone with Prince Li Ce and had asked Chu Qiao not to wait. He would go ahead.
Spring on the Red Plateau always arrived late. While Bian Tang and Huai Song were already enjoying warm sun and blooming flowers, the land of Daxia remained chilly. Occasionally, a cold wind blew from afar.
The jade carriage and horses could not proceed beyond Yuhua Gate. Chu Qiao dismounted and, guided by a palace attendant, walked into the front corridor. They turned all the way to the main hall.
It seemed the hour was still early. The golden palace sanctuary was quiet, with white birds flying in the sky. A cool breeze fluttered her sleeves like a butterfly.
"White Father!"
Suddenly, a small eunuch came running from the direction of Camphor Hall, addressing the old man who had been leading the way. "The princesses, the ladies, and gentlemen—"
"What?" The old man was startled, his hands trembling as he stuttered. "What happened?"
"The people from the Shuyi Bureau said the Zaoni cake they ate at the Western House made them ill, and now they're being treated inside the palace."
"How could this happen?" The old man furrowed his brows, clearly troubled.
Turning around and about to speak, Chu Qiao interjected, "Father, you seem to have urgent matters to attend to. I know the way to the main hall."
"Thank you, Lady Chu," the old man said with a formal bow. "Go ahead."
Chu Qiao, the fourth-ranked female official, had served in the palace for many years and was familiar with the empresses. Daxia's emperor was not known for lustfulness, and no woman in the palace was especially favored. She vaguely recalled Qin Shuyi of the Shuyi Bureau—a quiet and unobtrusive woman. The Shuyi Bureau had always been a place of tranquility, often coming to the Shangyi Square to borrow books. It was surprising that even someone so removed from palace intrigue could not escape such misfortune.
No longer dwelling on these thoughts, Chu Qiao continued walking. Past Camphor Hall lay the Eight Canal Qunming Lake, its willows freshly green, gently swaying in the breeze. Standing on the bridge overlooking the canal, Chu Qiao's dress fluttered in the wind, and for a brief moment, her heart felt at ease.
After passing Rung Wah Court, she neared the Former Hall of Forment. The path was quiet, with few people around. Walking beneath lacquered golden porches, the distant mountains and clear water, the blossoming willows, and the women's white shirts created an elegant scene.
However, a sudden scream broke the serenity, interrupting her steps.
Chu Qiao stopped and looked up, seeing a white-carved eagle fall from the sky with a loud crash. The bird's chest and abdomen were pierced by an arrow, blood oozing from the wound.
Before she could react, a forceful blow hit her from behind. Palms cut through the air, sharp as knives.
The other person was strong. Chu Qiao reacted instinctively but couldn't discern who it was. She turned and grabbed the assailant's wrist, but before she could act, a cold, slender hand gripped her throat tightly.
Both parties were evenly matched, neither giving ground.
The room was dark, with no light filtering in. Their faces were obscured, but their sharp eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness, like two wild animals locked in combat.
Both sides recognized each other's skill and silently agreed to release their grip, cautiously stepping back. Though the fight ended, the tension in the air remained thick.
"Ye Yun Sister, why this hostility?"
A gentle voice broke the silence. A woman, dressed in a blue and colorful phoenix gown with a purple-gold crown, approached. Her water sleeves fluttered like clouds as she walked gracefully forward.
"We are sisters, aren't we? How can I stand by and watch you make a grave mistake?" Shu Concubine smiled as she sat down on a lounge chair, retrieved a letter from the white eagle, and glanced over it. "Corresponding with outsiders is a serious offense. You've managed the palace for years; surely you know this. Why commit such a mistake?"
Mu He Yun, the former empress, stood tall in her deep purple Jinhua attire, her face pale yet determined. Without glancing at Shu Concubine, she told the two people behind her, "We're leaving."
"Stop."
Mu He Yun ignored the order and continued forward. Attendants quickly blocked her path. "The empress wishes to speak with you," one of them said.
"Snap!" The sound of a sharp slap echoed. Mu He Yun coldly rebuked the attendant. "Who are you to block my way?"
The attendant, stunned, dropped to his knees, trembling before her.
Shu Concubine, her eyes cold, said softly, "It seems your authority hasn't diminished, Sister."
Mu He Yun's voice was icy. "We are not friends, nor were we ever. I've never feared you in the past, and I don't intend to now. The rise and fall of women in this palace are inevitable. Since we are neither enemies nor allies, there's no need for your feigned affection."
Shu Concubine smiled faintly. "Your temper is as fiery as ever. I admire that."
Mu He Yun gave no response, turning to leave. "There's no need for small talk."
"Wait!" Shu Concubine's face grew cold as she stood, holding the letter in her hand. "Aren't you going to explain this?"
"Do you plan to add false accusations to your list of misdeeds?" Mu He Yun replied indifferently. "If you wish, take it to the emperor. He is a wise man and will judge fairly."
"But I want to hear your explanation."
Mu He Yun slowly turned, her gaze cold and piercing. Her voice was as haughty as her stance. "If I were you, I wouldn't be doing this."
Shu Concubine, caught off guard, was momentarily stunned. Mu He Yun continued, "You and I entered the palace together. You were no less favored than I. Yet, when I became queen ten years ago, you were still a mere noblewoman. Why do you think that is?"
Shu Concubine's face darkened.
"It's because you're foolish," Mu He Yun said calmly. "You only know how to play petty tricks. Short-sighted, domineering, and small-minded—you lack the qualities to achieve anything great. You were lucky to be born into a good family."
"Bold!" a voice suddenly exclaimed from Shu Concubine's side.
One of Mu He Yun's attendants snapped, "Bold? How dare you speak like this to the Queen!"
Ignoring the insult, Mu He Yun turned to Shu Concubine. "If I were you, I'd worry less about me and more about the new threat in the Lan Xuan Temple. The emperor won't allow another Wei clan to rise. My family may have fallen, but I'm still the queen. That will never change. You'll always be just a concubine."
The wind stirred, rustling Mu He Yun's dark purple robes. Despite her age, she carried herself with the dignity of a queen.
Shu Concubine stood motionless, her gaze locked on Mu He Yun's retreating figure. Turning to her attendants, she ordered coldly, "Take her down and execute her."
"Goddess!" One of the attendants knelt in shock, pleading, "Spare her life!"
Without looking back, Shu Concubine disappeared into the courtyard. The sparrows chirped softly, and the faint reflection of the lake shimmered in the distance.
The door creaked open, and light spilled into the room. Chu Qiao narrowed her eyes, glancing aside.
A man with long hair and a dark red suit stood before her. An eagle was embroidered on his belt. His eyes were cold, his expression emotionless, as if he were carved from stone.
Chu Qiao took a step back, regarding the man as if she had never met him before. The early spring wind stirred the dust, its chill a reminder of times long past. They exchanged glances briefly before looking away, each walking forward on their own path.
From beginning to end, they had always been on different roads. Even when fate brought them together, their meetings were fleeting, like meteors crossing the sky—brief and quickly forgotten in the vastness of the universe.
Zhuge Yue suddenly recalled a night many years ago, standing before an old white-haired man beneath a maple tree.
"Master, why me?" he had asked.
"Why not?" the old man replied wearily. "There are burdens only you can carry. You were born into this duty. It is your responsibility."
In the bamboo forest, Zhuge Yue stood still, deep in thought. The wind carried his dark red robes, and though the weather wasn't hot, the servant next to him was sweating nervously.
After a long silence, Zhuge Yue finally nodded. "Go."
A cold wind blew, and in the Golden Palace, blood was spilled.
Just as Chu Qiao reached the main hall, she saw shadows moving. There were many people, and Yan Xun was standing tall, waiting for her.
Chu Qiao took a few steps toward him. Yan Xun saw her and smiled warmly.
"Jojo!" Li Ce, standing nearby in a red robe, waved to her.
Before Chu Qiao could react with distaste, a sharp bell rang out across the palace. Everyone looked toward the Xiefang Hall in shock.
"Assassins! The queen has been murdered!"
The eunuch's shrill cry echoed across the square, plunging everyone into panic. Guards in black military uniforms rushed to the scene. A dense crowd formed, stunned and dismayed. Cries of anguish soon followed, as a dark mass of people began wailing, their voices echoing through the Golden Palace.
Mu He Yun, the queen, had once belonged to the powerful Mu He family. She entered the palace at thirteen, became queen at thirty, and ruled for ten years with absolute authority.
As Chu Qiao stood amidst the chaos, she glanced at Yan Xun. She saw the same fear in his eyes.
The palace where the assassination had occurred was the one she had just passed through. Had the attack happened moments earlier, she wouldn't be standing here.
The death knell rang nine times, its dull tone silencing the entire palace. Soldiers, maids, eunuchs, ministers—all turned toward Xiefang Hall and knelt in reverence.
For a brief moment, the bustling front hall was quiet. Then the bells rang again, louder and louder, until, one by one, people began kneeling and bowing, paying their respects to the fallen queen.
Chu Qiao's mouth opened, but no words came out. Her mind drifted to the once-mighty Mu He family. Mu He Yun had ruled the palace with unparalleled authority, declaring herself the rightful queen. She had been, she said, and always would be.
Her words still echoed, but the woman was gone. This seemingly glorious palace hid countless blades, waiting for their next victim.
A wail suddenly tore through the air, carrying over from the distant Purple Gate.
AC Afterthoughts
This chapter highlights the intense political machinations and personal rivalries that define life within the palace. The central theme of power and its fleeting nature is underscored through the conflict between Mu He Yun and Shu Concubine, two women who represent the different paths one can take within the imperial court.
The contrast between their personalities is stark: Mu He Yun, with her cold, calculating demeanor, symbolizes the enduring strength of someone who has ruled for years, while Shu Concubine, though seemingly powerful, is portrayed as someone still caught up in petty struggles. The assassination of Mu He Yun acts as a harsh reminder that no one is safe from the shifting tides of power.
Chu Qiao's brief yet poignant moment of reflection on the bridge reminds readers that despite the palace's grandeur, danger lurks everywhere. The sudden, violent turn of events with the eagle's death and the assassination signal that the plot is moving toward greater turmoil, with no one, not even the queen, immune to the treachery of palace life.
The chapter sets up a broader conflict, not just between individuals but between entire factions within the court, foreshadowing even more intense struggles to come. As Chu Qiao navigates this deadly world, the question remains: how will she survive amidst such dangerous politics?