Chapter 3

The light emitted by the pearl was unique, truly identical to that “shooting star” that had streaked across the sky earlier. Yet, the meteor’s brightness had been far more dazzling than the pearl before her eyes. Had it maintained that intensity, even covered by a blanket, it would have long since illuminated the entire room and attracted everyone’s attention.

At this moment, the pearl seemed to have gathered all its sharp brilliance and now emitted a gentle, shy glow, merely casting light on Xie Chang’an’s legs and the white cat beneath the quilt.

She was filled with suspicion and uncertainty, so she burrowed entirely under the covers.

“Is this really that meteor?”

Naturally, the pearl would not answer, nor would A Xia.

The cat and the pearl remained quietly still; only Xie Chang’an’s slightly hurried breathing echoed inside the small quilted space.

Slowly, she reached out and grasped the pearl.

Unlike the warm light, the pearl felt icy cold to the touch, so cold she nearly dropped it. Even forcing her teeth to endure it, she could only hold it for a few breaths. The chill, colder than solid ice, instantly seeped through her sinews and veins, penetrating deep into her organs, nearly freezing the very blood in her body.

Xie Chang’an had no choice but to release it again.

What on earth was this?

She stared intently for a long while, finding no hint of its nature, yet her eyes felt no fatigue.

Xie Chang’an knew there was something strange about the pearl, but she could not grasp the answer for the time being.

Yet the most pressing matter now was not the secret of the pearl, but how to deal with it.

Recklessly presenting it was obviously out of the question. Doing so would bring not reward, but endless questioning and trouble. Xie Chang’an had no intention of using it for rapid advancement, nor did she want it to ultimately fall into the emperor’s hands.

After a moment’s thought, she slipped off the kang bed, pulled out a loose brick from the corner of the wall, wrapped the pearl in cloth, and stuffed it into the hollow space where half a brick should have been. Then she pushed the remaining piece of brick back into place.

A Xia lay on the kang, watching her curiously but silently.

“You just came back, and you’ve already given me a big problem,” Xie Chang’an said, patting the cat’s head. “Go to sleep quickly, don’t conjure up any more strange things!”

A Xia naturally did not produce any more magical objects; as soon as Xie Chang’an’s head touched the pillow, she quickly fell asleep. The night passed without dreams, and when she awoke the next day, she felt lighter, the exhaustion and soreness completely gone. She now felt capable of carrying water ten miles back and forth.

She had eaten no elixirs nor experienced any divine fate; the only variable was the pearl before sleep.

A Xia had disappeared again somewhere, leaving only a few strands of cat hair in the quilt as evidence of its presence.

Xie Chang’an put on her shoes and restrained her urge to check the pearl again. In broad daylight, it was far too conspicuous. Since she had no intention of handing it over, she could not let anyone discover it.

As usual, she quickly tidied herself, ate the half a meat patty left over from yesterday with cold water, donned a skirt and jacket indistinguishable from other palace maids, and began her day’s duties.

Xie Chang’an’s official task was to sweep and clean the inner court, but when more important work arose, she could set aside the trivial chores. After all, no one would specially pick faults with her. Yesterday, the eunuch Liu had instructed her through Xiao Zheng to help organize books, so now she was to go to the Mountain and Water Pavilion to find Liu.

For many palace maids, leaving the palace was not necessarily a path to freedom; only becoming a female officer was considered a step up.

Having served in the palace for so many years, Xie Chang’an had opportunities for promotion, but she seemed uninterested, repeatedly giving her chances to others.

Though she remained consistent over more than a decade, no noble took notice of her, and she knew well how to keep herself safe.

Many knew of a palace maid named Xie who humbly accepted her lowly status. Because of her long tenure, she was well-versed in all palace rules. When difficult problems arose, people would often consult her for advice, earning her considerable goodwill among palace servants.

Her steps were light to the point she had to deliberately slow down to avoid drawing attention.

Lost in thought about the pearl’s origin and puzzling how she had gained such great benefit overnight, she was so absorbed she failed to hear someone calling her name from nearby.

Only after several calls did she come to her senses.

“Sister Xie, are you feeling unwell?” asked the young eunuch who had stopped her, approaching with concern.

Xie Chang’an smiled, “Oh, it’s you, Eunuch Cheng. Sorry, I was just thinking about some tasks and didn’t hear you.”

Cheng Yuanzhen quickly avoided her salute and returned it, “Sister Xie, you’re too kind!”

This eunuch Cheng was the lowest-ranked eunuch in the palace. When he first entered the palace, he was bullied, but Xie Chang’an happened to pass by and helped him out. Since then, Cheng Yuanzhen had been deeply grateful, always addressing her with sisterly respect and frequently inquiring about news for her, treating her like a benefactor.

Xie Chang’an knew this was also related to her attitude. Someone of Cheng’s low status was even more despised than the lowest palace maid, trampled on by all. He must have long experienced the harshness of palace life, which was why he valued the warm and helpful Xie Chang’an so much.

“Where are you headed, Sister Xie?”

“To Liu the eunuch at the Mountain and Water Pavilion.”

Cheng nodded, stepped closer, then suddenly lowered his voice and spoke rapidly.

“Sister Xie, do you remember the senior maid by Lady Zhong’s side who asked you to help make velvet flowers?”

“I do. She said she didn’t know many styles and was afraid Lady Zhong would blame her, so she sought my help.”

“Yesterday, I was sent to deliver something and saw her presenting the velvet flowers to Lady Zhong, claiming credit without mentioning you. Lady Zhong praised the flowers highly, and the maid said she had specially learned them for Lady Zhong, who rewarded her. You should be cautious of people like that.”

Xie Chang’an wasn’t bothered by someone else stealing credit since she never intended to appear in Lady Zhong’s favor, but appreciated Cheng’s good intentions.

“Were you delivering something to Lady Zhong by imperial order?”

“Yes,” Cheng said frankly. “It’s strange—Lady Zhong’s monthly allowance had already been given, but yesterday Gao Gong suddenly sent someone with imperial orders to distribute rewards to the palace’s consorts below the rank of noble lady. I was tasked with the delivery, but this has never happened before.”

The Gao Gong he mentioned was Gao Lishi, the emperor’s most trusted eunuch, whose status was so high that even the crown prince addressed him as “Second Brother.” Palace servants respectfully called him Gao Gong.

“Could it be that the weather’s cold, and His Majesty is feeling generous? But it’s no colder than previous years, and there’s a war at the front…”

Cheng continued speculating.

Xie Chang’an advised, “There must be a reason from above; do not spread this around.”

“I understand,” Cheng replied hurriedly. “I’m only telling you here. It’s late, and you still have tasks. I won’t keep you.”

After a brief exchange, they parted quickly.

A few dozen steps away, Xie Chang’an’s face showed no emotion, but her heart sank deeper.

The fact that this had never happened before made it all the more strange.

Despite His Majesty’s great favor for Consort Yang, the emperor continued to bring new women into the harem year after year. Not even Lady Zhong, who entered the palace years ago, could be recognized by the emperor among all the consorts now gathered. Previously, these women were left in the harem and saw the emperor only a few times a year, much less favored. But now, after a defeat at the front, the emperor suddenly thought to increase their allowances—was that normal?

Certainly not.

First, the palace maids’ stipends were cut, then low-ranking concubines received extra rewards.

The former showed someone was deliberately hoarding silver for emergencies, unable to seize from the nobles, so they squeezed the lower servants. The latter might have been the emperor’s sudden kindness, remembering these women.

Combined—

Could the emperor be preparing to abandon Chang’an and relocate the capital?

If it came to that, the numerous palace maids and eunuchs at the Tai Chi and Daming Palaces could not all be taken along. Only the empresses and crown prince could follow. Thus, the maids’ and eunuchs’ allowances could be cut, and those low-ranking concubines left behind received extra compensation. After all, they were the emperor’s women; being abandoned was pitiful, and the sentimental emperor would surely feel pity.

Though these were just Xie Chang’an’s guesses, she grew more certain.

Her position barred her from frontline reports, but the war’s grim news constantly affected the inner palace.

Xie Chang’an did not plan to flee with the emperor; she only wanted to know the exact day he might escape.

That day would be her chance.

After helping Eunuch Liu organize most of the books in the Mountain and Water Pavilion, she returned to her room as dusk fell.

A Xia, having found food and drink somewhere, strolled back leisurely and lay on the kang, eyes half-closed, sleepy. Xie Chang’an, having long thought of the pearl, finally dared to retrieve it now that night had fallen and no one was around.

The pearl still felt cold, but not as icy as yesterday, or perhaps she had grown more tolerant. She could hold it longer.

Though she vaguely sensed the pearl’s miraculous effects, how to use it remained a mystery. Without a divine mentor like Wang Ting, she could only blindly experiment, hoping for a miracle.

She still remembered Wang Ting’s master’s disdainful tone. Knowing her own limitations, she never hoped to cultivate anything from the pearl, only wishing her mortal body to grow stronger and swifter, bringing her plan closer to success.

Day after day passed like this.

The pearl ceased feeling icy, its glow dimmed, while Xie Chang’an grew physically lighter and stronger.

She had irregular meals before, but now ate less, sometimes surviving a day on just a few bowls of water. She knew this was the pearl’s effect, meditating with it before sleep.

Half a year passed in the blink of an eye.

Alongside the relentless march of time came worsening, uncontrollable bad news from the front.

One disaster after another.

Luoyang fell; the emperor was furious, executing generals Gao Xianzhi and Feng Changqing.

Tongguan was held by Geshu Han, with rebel and imperial forces locked in stalemate.

The emperor pressured Geshu Han to battle; Geshu Han was defeated and surrendered.

Tongguan fell; Chang’an was in peril.

Within half a year, An Lushan had advanced to the capital’s gates, poised to besiege it!

The terrible news spread through Chang’an, shocking the entire city.

The Tai Chi Palace was thrown into chaos.

At dawn, countless footsteps echoed through the palace grounds, though everyone strove to keep their voices low, creating an eerie atmosphere.

Xie Chang’an had not slept all night.

At the third watch, she finally fully “absorbed” the pearl.

It dissolved into powder in her arms, vanishing without a trace.

During the fourth watch, Cheng Yuanzhen sneaked over with startling news—

The emperor was leaving Chang’an city!

This was a top secret. Even if planned in advance, it could not be widely announced; not all ministers would know, let alone a palace maid like Xie Chang’an.

But once decided, the emperor’s plan could no longer be hidden.

Xie Chang’an was not surprised, for six months ago, she had already guessed this outcome from various clues and had since intensified her study of the pearl’s effects.

The empire’s shining glory had finally peeled away, revealing a mottled, fragile core.

Everyone knew this was because An Lushan had rebelled and Chang’an could not be held.

The emperor was leaving; Consort Yang, favored above all, would surely go, as would the crown prince. But who else?

His Majesty had attendants and close ministers to serve him, but he could not take the entire imperial city along—doing so would make them a target!

No matter what, the emperor was relatively safe with his imperial guards and close troops.

But those left behind?

If the rebels entered the city and failed to capture the emperor, what would they do in the empty palace?

The answer had long been written in the annals of war: a furious massacre.

Whether to take someone or leave them was a casual matter for the emperor, but for each individual, it was a death sentence.

Thus, the palace was thrown into turmoil.

Many desperately sought connections and ways to secure passage on the escape, even if it was a leaky ship, it was better than being thrown into the river.

Xie Chang’an could not attend court or see the emperor’s fear.

But she knew the sky above Chang’an was changing.

She wandered the palace; no one cared whether she finished her tasks or was assigned new ones. Every face she passed was filled with anxiety and helplessness. They knew nothing of their fates or when the shadow over Chang’an would fall as a lethal blade.

Among the crowd, Xie Chang’an’s steps were slow, like rowing against the current.

Though the emperor was leaving today, the thought had likely long been made. He had decided who to take and who to leave. The extra rewards given to low-ranking concubines were the emperor’s apology.

The senior maid who stole Xie Chang’an’s credit did not realize that from the moment her mistress received those rewards, she was doomed to be abandoned.

Pity them as they struggled for favor, only to leave no mark on the fickle emperor’s heart.

In the past six months, Cheng Yuanzhen had followed Xie Chang’an’s advice and worked to get into the Eastern Palace, eventually gaining the crown prince’s favor and being listed among those accompanying the emperor.

His status was low, so he could not secure a place for Xie Chang’an. He hurried over now to give her the news, so she might prepare.

But Cheng did not know that Xie Chang’an had no intention of leaving.

While others scrambled blindly, trying to catch a ride, even from afar, Xie Chang’an’s pace was steady.

She knew where the imperial entourage was.

The emperor was currently halted outside the Fanglin Gate, soon to detour to Daming Palace to pick up some princes and consorts, then head north out of the city.

A bamboo dagger hidden in her sleeve was clenched tightly in her hand, her palm sweaty.

“Sister Xie! Sister Xie!”

An anxious, familiar voice called out. Xie Chang’an stopped but turned around.

Xiao Zheng ran over, grabbing her sleeve.

“Why are you here? So I can find you!”

Xie Chang’an frowned slightly. “Shouldn’t you be with the consort’s entourage? How did you end up here?”

In the past half year, Xiao Zheng had her own fate.

With Xie Chang’an’s guidance, her vivid velvet peony flowers had earned her a place among the many maids serving Consort Yang.

Everyone knew Consort Yang was the most favored in the six palaces; following her meant climbing the ranks.

With the sudden upheaval, the emperor could not leave without Consort Yang. Xiao Zheng, following the consort, would not be left behind.

“I’ve arranged for you to have a place among the consort’s maids!” Xiao Zheng panted. “Sister Xie, come with me quickly. It’s not safe here anymore!”

Xie Chang’an’s feelings were mixed, but she shook her head.

“Thank you, but I have matters to attend to. You should go now; if you wait, it will be too late!”

The emperor’s carriage would not wait for a palace maid; those who missed it would be left behind.

Xiao Zheng gripped her sleeve tightly, even pulling her into a corner.

“Sister Xie, six months ago you told me the palace was going to change. You must have foreseen today. Why prepare an escape for us but not leave yourself?”

Xie Chang’an said nothing.

Xiao Zheng stared at her, lowering her voice, speaking slowly and clearly.

“Sister, I know you’re unwilling, wanting to do something great, but you can’t—alone, you can’t do it. Please, come with me!”

Xie Chang’an had never told her her plan, and Xiao Zheng had never asked.

But Xiao Zheng was no fool and had guessed. Even now, she did not expect Xie Chang’an still refused to give up.

“Sister Xie, you’ll lose your life!”

“I know.”

Xie Chang’an sighed and finally spoke.

Now that Xiao Zheng was willing to forsake her own chance of survival to find her, Xie Chang’an no longer wished to hide the truth.

“Eighteen years ago, during the deposed crown prince case, hundreds died, countless were punished or exiled. Our Xie family was no exception. My mother fought to give birth to me but died in this very inner court, buried in nothing but a straw mat outside the palace, without even a grave.

“All along, the court knew the injustice, yet no one, not a single person, stood up to speak for the victims or reopen the case.

“Not because they knew the devious consort Wu who framed the crown prince was dead, but because they knew the real culprit was His Majesty the emperor.

“The current emperor loves his pride and calls himself a wise ruler. He will not allow his reputation to be stained. Since he refuses to admit he wrongly killed his son and subjects, this injustice never existed. Not only the deposed crown prince, Prince E, and Prince Guang died unjustly, but all connected, including the Xie family, deserved their fate.”

Xie Chang’an’s expression was blank, her voice calm amid the raging wind.

Yet beneath that calm lay countless undercurrents, waiting to surge and shatter the thick ice above her head.

Xiao Zheng was stunned, staring dumbfounded, unable to speak.

“I once thought, I’m just a lowly palace maid. Living here is hard enough. I must tread carefully, fearing mistakes and punishment. How could I possibly overturn this old case, break through the sky above? Better to give up and live my life quietly.

“But Li Li is dead.

“Since childhood, I have been an orphan. If not for Li Li helping me out of trouble many times, I would have died countless times before reaching adulthood. Xiao Zheng, you all say I’m capable and wonder why I don’t seek a female official position, but all my abilities were earned by Li Li’s efforts. Without her, there would be no me today. Her situation was difficult and awkward, yet she protected me and made things easier. If I remain indifferent, what am I but a beast?

“But what about her? The emperor killed her father, and not content with that, arranged a marriage for her. I once thought that even so, at least she could leave the palace, better than being trapped here like me.

“But I didn’t expect that even after escaping, she couldn’t escape the emperor’s orders. What does An Lushan’s rebellion have to do with Li Li? She never enjoyed the imperial family’s wealth or honor, yet she must die for the emperor’s pride!”

Xie Chang’an smiled—a beautiful but icy smile.

Her gentle words were the bloodied tears Li Li could no longer speak.

“Will her death bring peace to the Great Tang? No.

“That’s only the emperor’s momentary anger. The golden words—whether crown prince, granddaughter, loyal ministers, or generals—they can be killed at will. Once heads fall, they cannot be restored. Our army continues to retreat until even Chang’an is about to fall.”

“How much longer can the Great Tang endure?”

“Sister Xie…”

Xiao Zheng’s voice trembled, wanting to stop her but unable to find the words.

Because everything Xie Chang’an said was true.

The frost in the Tang palace was heavy, the capital uneasy; beneath the splendid city, every word was a sea of hatred.

The young woman’s robes and ribbons fluttered wildly, yet she stood tall and resolute like a lone tree in the rain.

“Justice is there. When all the nobles care only for themselves, it falls to one little person like me to act.”