The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

The moonlight, like quicksilver spilling onto the ground, permeated the many palaces of Baiyujing.

Tangxi Xue rushed into the palace tonight only because news of the attack on Chengtian Palace reached Jingye Xuelu overnight.

At that moment, she was reading a newly acquired medical book by candlelight. Upon hearing this, she put the book down and stood up, without even having time to fasten her outer garment.

Only when I see my brother safe and sound with my own eyes can my heart find peace.

Now, seeing that the emperor's expression remained calm and his black robes were unstained by any blood, she did not linger any longer.

When she passed by the Hall of Longevity, she went in and took out several calligraphy scrolls, which were written for her by Tang Xiye himself years ago.

The carriage rumbled and rolled over the thin layer of snow that had just been swept from the palace road.

Occasionally, the carriage curtain would be lifted slightly by the wind, letting in a few fragments of moonlight and the cold light of icicles hanging from the eaves in the distance.

Tang Xixue gazed at the flickering light and shadow, then suddenly spoke softly:

"I saw that swing in the courtyard of the Hall of Longevity just now."

The voice was very soft, like a snowflake falling on the branch of old memories.

Chao Han's steady voice came from outside the car, and even through the thick curtains, every word was clear:

"Your Highness, that was newly made by the Palace Attendants. It is wrapped with lush green vines and adorned with silk crabapple blossoms—the style His Majesty personally ordered."

Upon hearing this, Tang Xixue's lips curved into a gentle smile.

The smile was faint, like a solitary lamp suddenly lit in the winter night—not bright, but warming the quiet of the entire car.

She recalled many years ago.

At that time, she had not yet moved into the Hall of Longevity, and her elder brother was not yet the emperor, but the young crown prince in the Eastern Palace who would always push aside the memorials at dusk and lead her through the many corridors.

There was a swing in the backyard of the East Palace, with wooden ropes and footboards, which was far less sophisticated than it is today.

But that particular one was her favorite.

That was made for her by her elder brother.

"Brother, push it higher—higher still—"

She would then smile and open her arms, her skirt billowing in the wind like a sail.

She felt as if she could ride the wind and fly over the palace walls, over the layers of glazed tiles, and towards the distant sky where the scorching orange-red and crimson sunset intertwined.

Her elder brother was always behind her, holding the swing rope steadily with one hand and protecting her waist with the other, afraid that she would fall or fly too far.

She didn't understand then.

Looking back now, I realize that wasn't the hand pushing the swing.

That was a lift.

They nurtured her from a child to a young woman, moved her from the Eastern Palace to the Hall of Longevity, and transformed her from a fledgling bird sheltered under their wings into Princess Jingyue, capable of standing on her own.

"Your Highness," Chao Han's voice pierced through the carriage curtain again, "will we be staying at the Mirror Night Snow Lodge again tonight?"

Tang Xixue pulled her wandering thoughts back, her fingertips tracing the delicate intertwined floral patterns on the hand warmer:

"Um."

He paused, then continued:

"From now on... let's live outside the palace."

What she didn't say aloud were the chapters in the Book of Fate that she had already memorized.

At the sacrificial ceremony, the true princess Shen Yan will publicly reveal the secret of her birth that has been buried for twenty years.

And she, this imposter princess, will become a laughing stock in the Nine Provinces, despised by everyone.

Shen Yan once wanted to live in the Palace of Longevity.

She said that the palace, the honor, and the twenty years she was pampered and cherished by the emperor and empress dowager—all of that should have belonged to her.

Tangxi is forbidden at night.

So, just as he was poisoned and fell into a coma, his life hanging by a thread, a raging fire broke out in the Hall of Longevity.

What Shen Yan cannot have, she chooses to destroy.

She would not mention a word of these impending calamities to her brother, the Emperor.

She simply lowered her eyes, concealing the undercurrents within them with a casual "living outside."

"Understood."

Chao Han's voice remained steady as ever, but it carried an added air of undeniable solemnity:

"Wherever Your Highness goes—"

He paused, as if pressing something extremely heavy and weighty into that sentence:

"We're all here."

He wasn't loyal to the princess; he was protecting Tang Xixue as a person.

Tangxi Xue did not respond.

She simply pulled the hand warmer closer, her fingertips seemingly touching the lingering warmth of the emperor's palm on the gilded silver lid.

—In this world, there are so many people who are quietly protecting her.

Qingdai remained silent for a long time before finally speaking softly:

"Your Highness, the Empress Dowager has had a long journey and has just returned to the palace today. It would be inconvenient to disturb her tonight..."

She hesitated for a moment, then lowered her voice even further:

"Shall we go to Qianqiu Palace to pay our respects tomorrow?"

In the preceding years, their princes never went to the Empress Dowager's presence.

Whenever someone from Qianqiu Palace came to inquire, he would either claim to be ill or say he was too busy with other matters.

Qingdai knew that it was not His Highness—it was a strange soul wearing His Highness's skin. How could she dare to meet the Empress Dowager, whose phoenix eyes were like torches and who seemed to be able to see through everything?

That woman was his own mother, whom even His Majesty treated with great deference.

But their princes have never been afraid of the Empress Dowager.

Upon hearing this, Tang Xixue's eyebrows curved into a bright smile:

"Of course I'll go."

She paused, a faint smile playing on her lips:

"Tomorrow I'm going to wear that red dress—my mother loves to see me in red; she says I'm a phoenix from the heavens."

The words "red dress" gently settled in the quiet of the car.

Qingdai's eyes suddenly reddened.

She nodded heavily, her throat choked with emotion, unable to speak.

How did they manage to get through all these years?

The strange soul, bearing that familiar skin, speaks harsh words that His Highness has never uttered, and does absurd things that His Highness would never stoop to.

They dared not leave, dared not ask, and dared not even show the slightest sign of anything amiss, for fear of being expelled from the Hall of Longevity, and from then on, no one would guard this empty hall, waiting for the return of its owner, whose whereabouts were unknown.

They simply obeyed silently, endured silently, and silently—

Every night, she secretly sheds tears while looking at the old things that His Highness kept from his childhood.

Now, His Highness has finally returned.

Qingdai gazed at Tangxi Xue's silhouette reflected on the carriage wall, tears silently streaming down her face, yet a smile, the likes of which hadn't appeared in five years, curved her lips.

Inside the Hall of a Thousand Autumns, the candlelight was dim.

Empress Dowager Bai Yining sat alone on the couch by the window, slowly turning the sandalwood prayer beads between her fingers, one bead at a time, as if counting the endless flow of time.

The temple was filled with the calming scent of Taihang cliff cypress incense, yet there was no serenity in her expression.

Granny Lan stood to one side, looking at the Empress Dowager's profile, which was much thinner than it had been five years ago, and felt a tightness in her throat.

"Your Majesty," she said softly, placing the freshly brewed ginseng tea on the small table, "the sacrificial ceremony to Heaven is still some time away, why rush back so hastily..."

The Empress Dowager did not respond.

She simply lowered her eyes to look at the small mutton-fat jade pendant that she had personally tied onto the Buddhist prayer beads—it was a begonia flower.

On Zhizhi's first birthday, during the traditional "grasping ceremony," she didn't take any of the gold, jade, brocade, writing brushes, ink, paper, or inkstones on the table. Instead, she grabbed the begonia pendant from her hair, holding it tightly and giggling.

She took it off and tied it to her most treasured Buddhist prayer beads, wearing it close to her body for seventeen years.

"Alan," the Empress Dowager finally spoke, her voice soft, as soft as an icicle hanging from the eaves, as if it would shatter with a gust of wind, "These past years at Huguo Temple, I have lit lamps every night and chanted scriptures every day..."

She paused, her fingertips tracing the jade crabapple blossom:

"It's not about praying to Buddha to bless you with a long life of a hundred years."

"I beg Buddha to return my weaving."

Granny Lan could no longer hold back, covered her mouth with her sleeve, and tears streamed down her face.

For the past five years, the Empress Dowager has been eating vegetarian food and chanting Buddhist scriptures at Huguo Temple. She has never eaten meat or worn fine clothes. She gets up before the morning bell rings and kneels after the evening drum has stopped.

The scriptures she copied by hand filled three entire walls of the small Buddhist shrine.

not only that.

Every single account in the Zhiyueting records from those years was personally reviewed and approved by the Empress Dowager.

Despite her status as the nation's mother, she humbled herself and dealt with merchants, all to ensure that the charitable institution that the child had personally established could truly benefit those orphaned and helpless children.

—That was left by Zhizhi.

She wouldn't let anyone touch even an inch of what she wove.

"Your Highness," Granny Lan choked out, "you...you've suffered so much these past years..."

"Alan," the Empress Dowager suddenly interrupted her, her voice still calm, but beneath that calmness lay an overwhelming weariness, "that is the child I personally watched grow up."

She raised her eyes and looked out the window at the lonely, cold moon.

The moonlight shone on her still beautiful eyebrows and eyes, but it couldn't penetrate the mist that had accumulated in the depths of her phoenix eyes for five years.

"Consort Rou passed away early, and the child lost his mother before he was even a month old. When he was brought to Qianqiu Palace, he was a tiny little bundle, wrapped in swaddling clothes, as light as a feather."

A very faint smile appeared at the corners of her lips:

"When I took her, she stopped crying. She opened her bright, star-like eyes and gazed at me quietly, as if saying—'Are you my mother?'"

"In my entire life, I only have one son, Yin'er. I thought I would have no more worries."

She paused, the prayer beads resting on her fingers for a moment:

"But that child has filled my heart."

Granny Lan was already sobbing uncontrollably.

That's the little princess you raised yourself.

In the past five years, you have never made a mistake.

Every time you return to the palace, you find an excuse to catch a glimpse of her from afar.

If she refuses to come to Qianqiu Palace, then you can try to meet her in the Imperial Garden.

Through the shadows of many people, you gaze at that familiar yet unfamiliar face, neither smiling nor speaking, simply staring.

Back at the Thousand Autumns Palace, he stood silently for a long time in front of the begonia jade pendant.

You never say anything, and you never show any unusual expression in front of others.

You simply knelt before the eternal lamp at Huguo Temple for over 1,800 days and nights.

How could a mother not recognize her own child?

Even without blood ties, the bond of kinship for those who are raised by their own parents is stronger than that of blood relatives.

The Empress Dowager suddenly sighed softly.

"Yin'er..." she began, her voice unusually tinged with resentment and disappointment, "He can't even find Zhizhi, he can't protect Zhizhi, what use is he as an emperor?"

Granny Lan wiped away her tears and tried to keep her voice steady:

"Your Majesty, please calm your anger."

She paused, then said softly:

"His Majesty... has had a tough time too."

The Empress Dowager did not respond.

She simply lowered her eyes again, and began to slowly grind the prayer beads between her fingers one by one once more.

The moonlight outside the window remained cold and clear.

She doesn't know when the person she's waiting for will be able to come home.

But she will still wait.

She is Zhizhi's mother.

A mother would be willing to wait a lifetime for her daughter to come home.

As long as I can wait... it's all worth it!