FID – Chapter 771

Chapter 771: Are You Truly Willing? 

The old maid felt a chill in her heart. She glanced at the noblewoman from behind but dared not speak.

Qingning Palace—the residence where Dowager Consort Liu was confined.

The Empress Dowager had spent decades in the deep palace; she couldn’t possibly be unfamiliar with the various paths within. 

Her arrival here was no coincidence.

The Empress Dowager was here to see Dowager Consort Liu!

“Qingning Palace,” she murmured, lifting her gaze to the dust-covered plaque above the palace gate. “Since we’re here, let’s go in and have a look.”

“Your Majesty…” The old maid hesitated, wanting to speak but refrained.

Dowager Consort Liu was under strict confinement, and visits were prohibited. 

This was an ironclad order from the King.

For the Empress Dowager to enter would be tantamount to disregarding the Regent’s command, inevitably leading to another conflict between them.

“What, am I not allowed to go wherever I please?”

“That’s not what I meant, Your Majesty. Please calm your anger!”

With a flick of her sleeve, the Empress Dowager stepped forward, ascending the palace steps and proceeding inside.

The eunuchs guarding the entrance dared not obstruct her.

The heavy palace doors creaked open with a groan. The Empress Dowager’s gaze swept across the rusted bronze fittings as she stepped over the threshold and entered.

She looked around. Inside the hall, patches of snow had yet to fully melt, scattered unevenly across the floor. Among the snow were withered leaves blown in by the cold wind. In the four corners of the great hall, dead weeds stood desolate, waiting for spring to bring them back to life.

As they walked deeper inside, not a single servant was in sight.

“In the past, when I was still in the Yangxin Hall,” the Empress Dowager said, “Qingning Palace was the most glorious place in the entire harem. I can still imagine the splendor of those days. Who would have thought that in such a short time, such a grand palace would fall into this state—so bleak, so lifeless.”

Her voice carried a tone of sighing and lament, tinged with the sorrow of seeing a once-proud creature brought low.

The old maid dared not respond. She couldn’t tell what the Empress Dowager meant by these words.

Was it a genuine sigh over the impermanence of life, or schadenfreude toward Dowager Consort Liu—who had once looked down on her—now fallen to such a state?

It seemed like both. And yet, neither.

They reached the inner hall. The doors were still tightly shut, and there was no sound from within, as though it were an empty shell.

The old maid quickly stepped forward, reached out, and pushed open the doors. Slowly, the scene inside came into view: 

Utter chaos.

Everywhere, there were shattered pieces of porcelain and jade. Judging by the marks, they had been broken long ago, and no one had come to clean them up since.

“Your Majesty, watch your step,” the old maid warned.

There was barely a safe place to stand. One wrong step, and a shoe sole could land on a shard.

Even as a servant, she couldn’t imagine how Dowager Consort Liu had managed to live in such conditions.

Looking up, she even spotted cobwebs in the corners of the hall.

This was no longer Qingning Palace. It was no different from the Cold Palace.

Dowager Consort Liu was sitting at the very back of the hall, on a once-luxurious but now peeling chaise lounge.

She wore an ornate but filthy and timeworn brocade gown. Her face was pale from the cold, her features gaunt and haggard.

Beside her lay a thick padded coat made of coarse, dull cotton fabric, the kind usually worn by palace servants in winter.

“At a time like this, are you still clinging to that shred of pride? If you were to freeze to death, would it truly be worth it?” The Empress Dowager walked over, picked up the coat, and personally draped it over Dowager Consort Liu.

Her gaze settled on her hair, now streaked with white.

“You’ve aged a lot… When a person suffers heartbreak, they age quickly,” the Empress Dowager said with a self-deprecating smile. She turned and sat down in the armchair across from Dowager Consort Liu. “Look at me. We’re the same age. I’m even two years younger than you, but my hair is already completely white.”

Dowager Consort Liu slowly turned her stiff neck to look at her. Her eyes were murky and dull, almost completely devoid of light.

It was the gaze of someone who had lost all hope—hopeless, lifeless, utterly spiritless.

“Back then, in your struggle for favor, you never stopped scheming against me and using underhanded tricks,” the Empress Dowager said. “Now, I’m still the Empress Dowager, yet you—after dominating the harem for years—have ended up like this. Tell me, why did you insist on going up against Feng Qingbai?”

“Have you come to mock me, Empress Dowager?” The withered woman on the other side finally spoke, her voice dry and hoarse. It was as if she hadn’t spoken in a long time that even forming words was a strain.

“No. I only came to see you,” the Empress Dowager said with a smile. “To see what you’ve become now. Perhaps, one day, I’ll end up the same way.”

Dowager Consort Liu fell silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a strange, chilling laugh—grating and eerie.

“Just a moment ago, you were criticizing me for opposing Feng Qingbai. And you? You came out of the Yangxin Hall—was it just to bask in the glory of being Empress Dowager? Just to see how your enemy has managed to govern Nanling so seamlessly, how he now commands the winds and rains with such prestige and power?”

“You’ve been locked away so long—no one’s visited you, have they, besides me?” the Empress Dowager said, ignoring the mockery completely, showing not the slightest reaction. She rose to her feet. “We once knew each other. I came to see you this once for the sake of the sisterhood we once shared. Take care of yourself.”

Just as the Empress Dowager was about to leave, Dowager Consort Liu suddenly shot up from the chaise lounge, her eyes bloodshot and fierce. “You foolish woman! I won’t die here in vain! And you—are you truly content to watch your enemy rise higher and higher? Don’t forget—both of your sons died at his hands! It was he who forced you to bury your own children! It was he who doomed you to die with no one to carry your spirit tablet or honor your lineage!”

“I am the Empress Dowager,” she replied coldly. “When I die, the Emperor himself will conduct my funeral. You need not worry on my behalf.”

The palace doors closed once again, shutting out all the light. The hall fell into darkness.

Consort Liu collapsed back down, despondent. Tears slowly trickled from her long-dry eyes.

Then, she burst into laughter, wild, frenzied laughter.

A laugh more haunting, more piercing than any cry.

“If your heart is truly that at ease, I’ll be waiting to see what kind of end awaits you!”

Outsiders all said she had gone mad—that she had been driven insane by Feng Qingbai.

But she hadn’t gone mad.

It was simply that Feng Qingbai claimed she had—and once he did, everyone treated her like a lunatic.

But she refused to give them what they wanted. She would live, and live well. She would wait to see how each of them met their end.

No sooner had the Empress Dowager stepped into Qingning Palace than the news reached Feng Qingbai’s ears.

At that moment, he had just come down from the wedding banquet to change his clothes and catch his breath.

Feng Mohan had been following him the whole time and overheard everything.

“See? I told you that that old hag wouldn’t stay quiet. Why would she go to Qingning Palace for no reason? She’s definitely up to something!” Feng Mohan sneered. “Even if Dowager Consort Liu’s teeth have been pulled, her gums can still bite—and it still hurts. Uncle, we can’t let our guard down.”

“Today is a day of celebration. No talk of state affairs,” Feng Qingbai said, taking off his ceremonial wedding robe and changing into a brocade one for receiving guests. He still had to return to the banquet later, but the robe he’d worn reeked of alcohol. It needed to air out.

He didn’t want to walk into the bridal chamber and get thrown out by Shengsheng.

She disliked strong odors like that.

Feng Mohan blinked as he watched the man calmly change clothes, not a flicker of emotion on his face.

He sighed.

He had been emperor for thirteen years now—a long reign compared to many short-lived emperors of past dynasties—yet he still couldn’t match his Imperial Uncle’s composure.

He still had much to learn.