My palace is full of female protagonists.

Zhao Chengyu's words echoed softly in the empty palace, carrying a hint of barely perceptible tenderness and helplessness. He gently set down his chopsticks and bowl, his gaze lingering on Zhao Qi'er kneeling before him. Those eyes, once filled with love and trust, were now brimming with fear and unease. He slowly rose and walked to her side, not urging her to rise, but continuing in an almost whispered manner:

"Qi'er, you've misunderstood. I brought up the past not to compare you to the Empress, nor to blame you for any dissatisfaction. It's just that sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I think of the time when we first met, simple and pure, as if the whole world had shrunk to just the two of us. The winds of the frontier, the rains of the capital, every scene is vivid in my mind; they are the most precious memories in my heart."

He sighed softly, seemingly lamenting the passage of time and also blaming himself: "In those years, though we lived in turbulent times, we depended on each other for survival, hoping together for a better future. Later, with the arrival of our children, that expectation was enriched with warmth and responsibility. I believed that even if I embarked on this path to becoming an emperor, you would still be my strongest support, and we could still stay together wholeheartedly as before."

At this point, a complex emotion flashed in Zhao Chengyu's eyes, a sense of helplessness towards reality and a reflection on his own choices: "But I overlooked the fact that the high walls and deep courtyards of the Forbidden City are not only a symbol of power, but also a testing ground for the changes in the hearts and minds of countless people. In order to protect this power, and for the so-called common people, I gradually found that I had lost a lot—including the purest time I spent with you."

He bent down and gently helped Zhao Qi'er up. Their eyes met again, as if all the barriers and misunderstandings had vanished in that moment. But these words seemed more like Zhao Yingqing speaking through Zhao Chengyu: "Qi'er, I'm sorry. I thought that by achieving the highest position, I could give you a better life, but I forgot that what you longed for most was perhaps just simple and genuine companionship. To be honest, I regret it."

As Zhao Qi'er listened to Zhao Chengyu's words, tears welled up in her eyes. She held Zhao Chengyu's hand tightly, her voice choked with emotion yet firm: "Your Majesty, I understand your heart. Over the years, no matter where I have been, my heart has always been with you. As long as you have us in your heart, I have no other desires."

Zhao Chengyu's words were like heavy stones, landing on the lake of Zhao Qi'er's heart, stirring up ripples. His words revealed deep despair and struggle, as well as endless care and reluctance for Zhao Qi'er. As Zhao Qi'er listened, her eyes gradually reddened, but she tried hard not to let the tears fall, because she knew that Zhao Chengyu needed to be stronger than she did at this moment.

“Your Majesty, I understand your intentions.” Zhao Qi’er’s voice was gentle yet firm. She walked softly to Zhao Chengyu’s side, placing her hands gently on his shoulders, offering him silent comfort. “On the road to exile, though I didn’t say it aloud, every little thing you did, every sleepless night you tossed and turned, seemed to tell me of your inner struggles and pain. I know you’ve carried too much, so much that you can barely breathe.”

She turned and walked to the round table, a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in her movements, as she poured herself a cup of tea, as if seeking a moment of respite from this heavy conversation. The aroma of tea rose gently, mingling with the stillness of the room, creating an indescribable atmosphere.

"Actually, I did consider facing life and death with you." Zhao Qi'er's voice was low and affectionate. "Every time you left the mansion, my heart would hang in mid-air, fearing that I would never see you return. So, I secretly placed a cup of poison on the windowsill. That was my determination and my vow. If you really meet with misfortune, I will never live alone. I am willing to follow you with my life and become your eternal protector."

At this point, Zhao Qi'er's eyes finally couldn't hold back her tears any longer. Crystalline tears slid down her cheeks, dripping onto her clothes and into Zhao Chengyu's heart. He turned around abruptly, tightly grasping Zhao Qi'er's hand, his eyes filled with shock and emotion.

"Qi'er, why are you so foolish? You could have had a better life, why are you so resolute?" Zhao Chengyu's voice carried a hint of reproach, but more so heartache and reluctance.

Zhao Qi'er gently shook her head, tears and smiles mingling, making her appear both beautiful and sorrowful. "Because, in my heart, you are no longer just my husband, but also my master. Even if I remain a slave, I will never leave you!"

Zhao Chengyu felt torn between two conflicting emotions. On one hand, there was Zhao Yingqing's deep and selfless devotion to Zhao Qi'er, a love and responsibility he deeply empathized with. On the other hand, there was Zhao Chengyu's own profound and unwavering affection for Zhao Qi'er, an emotion so genuine and intense that it brought tears to his eyes. The two remained silent in the room for a long time, time seemingly frozen, leaving only the sound of their heartbeats and the occasional whistling of the night wind.

Xiao Kuangzi stood at the doorway, watching this scene from afar. Although he had many questions and doubts in his heart, he dared not disturb it. He waited quietly until the night deepened and the moonlight, like water, bathed the entire palace, adding a touch of gentleness and tranquility to the quiet night.

In the stillness of the night, Zhao Qi'er finally emerged from the room. She was dressed neatly, her face calm and serene, as if she had just undergone a spiritual cleansing. She whispered to Xiao Kuangzi, "The Emperor was moved and fell into a deep sleep after saying many things from his heart. He will surely feel thirsty when he wakes up, so you must keep tea ready and pay attention to his movements."

Upon hearing this, Xiao Kuangzi, though puzzled, respectfully replied, "Yes, Consort Zhao." However, he couldn't help but ask curiously, "Consort Zhao, don't you personally serve the Emperor?"

Zhao Qi'er looked up at the bright moon in the night sky. The moonlight on the sixteenth of the month was exceptionally bright, like a giant palace lantern illuminating the entire palace and a corner of her heart. She sighed softly and said, "I feel that the Emperor doesn't need me as much now." This sentence seemed abrupt, yet it contained a deep meaning, as if it represented a new understanding and realization of their relationship.

After saying this, Zhao Qi'er turned and left, leaving Xiao Kuangzi standing there, lost in thought. Watching Zhao Qi'er's receding figure, he couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion.

The appearance of the old nanny surprised Xiao Kuangzi, but he quickly composed himself to answer the questions from this elderly palace woman. The nanny's eyes revealed a keen sense of curiosity, clearly showing her keen interest in the recent changes in the palace.

"Why are you here, Granny? Is there anything the Empress has to say?" Xiao Kuangzi asked respectfully, with a polite smile on her face.

The old woman smiled slightly, giving Xiao Kuang a deep look that seemed to see right through him. "Didn't Her Highness the Imperial Concubine ask you to say anything to me?" Her tone was calm, yet subtly sharp.

Xiao Kuangzi's heart tightened, but she quickly regained her composure and smiled, "No, not at all, you're overthinking it, Granny. The Imperial Concubine and the Emperor are just having some casual, intimate conversations, nothing serious."

The old woman nodded, her gaze drifting into the distance, seemingly deep in thought. "It's only the second day of the fifteenth, why hasn't the Emperor gone to the Empress's palace yet? And I heard that even the process of choosing a concubine tonight has been skipped?" Her tone was somewhat probing.

Xiao Kuangzi's heart skipped a beat, knowing that this nanny was not easily fooled, but she remained calm and explained, "Nanny, you don't know, tonight His Majesty and the Imperial Concubine had a very pleasant conversation. They talked for a long time, and His Majesty didn't feel tired and went to rest on his own. When the Imperial Concubine saw that His Majesty was tired, she went back to the palace on her own and did not disturb him. She didn't even look at the plaque today."

Upon hearing this, the old nanny showed a satisfied expression and nodded gently. "Recently, His Majesty has indeed visited the Empress's palace less often, preferring instead to discuss state affairs with the Imperial Concubine in the Imperial Study. You little rascal, you should know what to say and what not to say."

Little Box nodded quickly in agreement, "Don't worry, Granny, I understand."

Seeing this, the old woman said no more and turned to leave, saying as she went, "I need to prepare breakfast for Her Majesty the Empress. She goes to court every day and has lost weight. You stay here and take good care of her, and make sure nothing goes wrong."

Xiao Kuangzi respectfully saw the old eunuch off, his mind racing with thoughts. He knew all too well the complexities of the palace, and as a mere eunuch, he could easily be drawn into trouble. But tonight's events had given him a deeper understanding of the palace's situation. It seemed the delicate relationship between the Emperor, the Consort, and the Empress had subtly shifted. And he could only proceed with even greater caution to maintain his own peace within the palace walls.

During those turbulent days, the Leng family's power in the capital spread like vines in spring, silently but firmly climbing to the pinnacle of power. In the imperial court, the previously tranquil situation was stirred up by a sudden force. The speed at which Leng family members were promoted in the civil service was astonishing; it seemed as if overnight, the entire list of civil officials in the capital had been reshuffled, with the name of Leng officials frequently appearing in promotion announcements, becoming a hot topic of conversation in the streets and alleys.

However, this seemingly impeccable upward momentum was subtly altered by an unexpected action of the Empress. Several days later, in the magnificent imperial court, the Empress, dressed in splendid robes and adorned with a phoenix coronet, entered the hall with graceful bearing. Her voice, clear and powerful, resonated throughout the hall as she announced a decision that shocked the entire court—the establishment of the Wenshu Monastery.

The newly established Wenshu Monastery not only bears the heavy responsibility of selecting and cultivating pillars of the nation, but is also entrusted with the sacred mission of managing, reforming, and compiling the palace archives. The Empress's move undoubtedly declares to the world her emphasis on culture, education, and the transmission of knowledge, while also opening a new path for those talented individuals from non-noble families to advance, breaking the long-standing monopoly of officialdom by powerful clans.

The news sent shockwaves through the court and the public. Officials who had previously harbored resentment over the rapid rise of the Leng family seemed to have found an outlet for their frustrations, submitting impeachment memorials one after another, accusing the Leng family of expanding their power too quickly and violating the balance of power in the court. For a time, impeachment memorials poured in like snowflakes, piling up like mountains, almost burying the entire archives. The palace servants, left with no other choice, had to dismantle these heavy papers one by one and transport them outside the palace to provide firewood for the hardworking artisans. It is said that for several days, the bonfires outside the palace burned exceptionally brightly, their flames reaching the sky, burning for a full two hours before gradually dying down, as if silently testifying to the intensity and cruelty of this power struggle.

After the court session, the Left Chancellor Gao Yuan did not return to his residence immediately, but went straight to the Imperial Study, preoccupied with the important matters to be discussed with the Empress and the Emperor.

Inside the Imperial Study, Gao Lingyan had been waiting for a long time. She knew her cousin Gao Yuan's character and personality well, and knew that he would definitely come to the Imperial Study after the court assembly. Seeing Gao Yuan enter the study, she smiled and stood up to greet him.

"Master Gao has finally arrived." Gao Lingyan's voice was like a spring breeze, carrying a touch of family warmth.

Gao Yuan bowed slightly and then got straight to the point: "Your Majesty, there are many matters in the court that need to be discussed with His Majesty recently, and I..." His words were tinged with urgency, clearly showing his deep concern for state affairs.

"Lord Gao, please don't be impatient, His Majesty will be here shortly." Gao Lingyan interrupted Gao Yuan, gesturing for him to sit down and wait.

Soon after, Zhao Chengyu, dressed in casual clothes, entered the imperial study. Upon seeing Gao Yuan, he smiled sincerely and said, "Prime Minister Gao, you've finally arrived."

It wasn't until Zhao Chengyu changed into casual clothes and returned to the imperial study that he asked, "The Prime Minister is here? How's the tea? I had someone find some Lu'an melon seeds and have them boiled with distilled water. Look how clean the tea soup is!"

Upon hearing this, Gao Yuan's eyes flashed with surprise and curiosity. Although he was the prime minister, he was usually busy with state affairs and had not paid much attention to such trivial matters. Only then did he notice that the tea soup was crystal clear, and he said, "This water is so clear, it's even more transparent than the first snowflakes that have melted!"

Zhao Chengyu's smugness immediately surfaced on his face as he pulled Gao Yuan aside and said, "This is called distilled water. I specially made a device to produce it."

Prime Minister Gao asked, "What kind of water is distilled water? I've only heard that water from the first snowfall is excellent for brewing tea, or that spring water from a mountain well is also good."

Zhao Chengyu raised his eyebrows and said, "Then I'll take you to see it."

After solving the palace's water problem, Zhao Chengyu was in high spirits. He especially wanted to share this achievement with his trusted and wise Prime Minister Gao, so he specially invited Prime Minister Gao to the renovated bathhouse, intending to show him the distillation water making device that he had designed himself.

Sunlight streamed through the half-open window, illuminating every corner of the bathhouse and making the space exceptionally bright and clean. Zhao Chengyu stood before the meticulously constructed distillation equipment, a smug smile on his face. He turned to Prime Minister Gao and said, "Prime Minister Gao, have you ever imagined that this unremarkable bathhouse could become a treasure trove for improving the quality of the palace's water supply?"