Chapter 8: A Few Days of Novelty

Soon after, Lu Baolin and a few others stepped forward, just about to intervene, when Shen Chuliu, in a move as swift as lightning, gave Miao Xiaoyi a slap.

“Xiaoyi isn’t enough. Wait until you at least climb to the rank of Meiren before you come speak to me like this. Until then, best stay far away. Do I look like someone with a mild temper?” With that, Shen Chuliu turned and walked away.

The slap stunned Miao Xiaoyi, leaving her speechless and forgetting to even call for her maid.

Lu Baolin and the others were equally shocked and hurried to follow Shen Chuliu.

Only after they had walked some distance did Lu Baolin speak. “But… she is still a Xiaoyi…”

“Aren’t we going to visit An Yunu? Let’s go,” Shen Chuliu replied.

Seeing her attitude, the others didn’t dare say more. While rivalries among women in the harem were common, it wasn’t often one would strike so directly.

One could only say—truly a general’s daughter.

Fenghua Pavilion now housed only An Yunu. When she saw the group arriving, she quickly had people welcome them.

She was just over a month pregnant. Strictly speaking, it shouldn’t have been announced so early, but the imperial physician had refused to keep it secret.

So once the news broke, it spread instantly.

Though, even previously, when Meiren Cao was pregnant for two months, the news hadn’t been concealed either.

An Yunu seemed to be doing well, and after visiting her, everyone dispersed.

Naturally, news of Shen Chuliu slapping Miao Xiaoyi spread quickly, along with what she had said in Fengzao Palace. It was now widely known that she held deep contempt for Miao Xiaoyi.

And who wouldn’t?

Others might criticize subtly, but Shen Chuliu had simply slapped her across the face—undeniably direct.

Back in Cuiyun Pavilion, Ziru sighed. “Why were you so impulsive! She’s still a Xiaoyi—how could you hit her?”

“Weren’t you hoping I’d show some ambition? Well, here’s the opportunity.” Shen Chuliu laughed. “Enough now. Get me something to drink. It’s so hot, and I’ve talked too much—I’m parched. The rest of you, come help me change.”

Ziru sighed again and went to carry out her tasks. She knew her mistress had a clear head, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.

Zizhu returned with the other maids to help Shen Chuliu change. Soon, she had put on a light blue ruqun, comfortable and airy. Since she was indoors, there was no need to wear outer layers.

Her rank was low, so she didn’t qualify for ice blocks. But the room wasn’t too warm; a bit of fanning was enough. At night, she even needed a blanket. After all, the building had been around for years.

It was only when going outside that the heat became unbearable.

“Do your feet ache, Baolin? Would you like a soak?” Zizhu asked. She was the most proper of them, always addressing her as Baolin.

In truth, since they were close, such formality wasn’t necessary.

“Mm, let’s soak,” Shen Chuliu said.

Soon, the maids brought warm water. Although it was summer and soaking her feet was a bit hot, it still felt pleasant.

“Zirui-jie went to the kitchen,” Zizhu explained as she served Shen Chuliu.

“Zizhu, how far do you think this Miao Xiaoyi can go?” Shen Chuliu asked.

Zizhu paused slightly, then resumed her movements. “Baolin sees things very clearly. Right now, it’s a real opportunity.”

“I knew I didn’t misjudge you. It is indeed an opportunity.” Shen Chuliu smiled but said nothing more.

As for Miao Xiaoyi—well, it wouldn’t be right to say she was unimportant.

How could she not be? Who was Prince Lu?

Back when the late emperor was alive, he had not officially named a crown prince. Qi Yixiu, born of Empress Dowager Li, was not particularly favored.

The most favored was the sixth prince, born of Consort Dowager Yang, followed by Prince Lu—the third prince of the late emperor, now ranked fifth, but he’d been in an awkward position for years.

Until the sixth prince recklessly rode his horse in the streets and ended up falling to his death.

After that, Consort Dowager Yang lost her backing, and the third prince’s mother wasn’t influential either.

Only then did the late emperor finally settle on an heir.

The late emperor passed away, heartbroken over the sixth prince’s death. The current emperor is now in his fourth year of rule.

Miao Xiaoyi’s arrival was… perfectly timed.

Over the past year in the palace, Shen Chuliu might not fully understand the emperor, but she knew one thing for sure—he was no good man.

And what was Miao Xiaoyi? She didn’t even qualify as a chess piece.

Calling her a toy would be generous—and not even a valuable one. Even though the Dayi Dynasty wasn’t entirely obsessed with lineage, there was no way a dancer could rise to a high position again.

So, Miao Xiaoyi was tied to the previous dynasty’s Prince Lu.

And as for the harem, her only purpose was to suffer a humiliating downfall to serve as a warning.

The more favor she enjoyed now, the more miserable her end would be.

As for Shen Chuliu, attacking someone of a higher rank might make people say she was overstepping.

But a Baolin slapping a Xiaoyi? That couldn’t really be called insubordination.

She dared to hit; she dared to face the consequences. Zirui was worried, but Shen Chuliu knew full well that it was time to take a stand.

A whole year—she’d seen enough.

Miao Xiaoyi was the sacrificial chicken the emperor would use to scare the monkeys.

And wasn't she also the stepping stone for Shen Chuliu's rise?

So perfect—why not take advantage?

If the emperor decided to punish her over this, then this whole year had been for nothing. If that was the case, she might as well give up trying and live out her life peacefully as a Baolin.

Sure enough, by dusk, the emperor rewarded Miao Xiaoyi with a hairpin and said a few words of comfort: “Beloved concubine has been wronged.”

But he himself went to Consort Yi’s palace instead.

Everyone figured—it was Consort Yi who held true favor. Miao Xiaoyi was just a novelty for a few days.

As for Shen Baolin, who had slapped Miao Xiaoyi—no punishment, not a word. Just like what happened with Meiren Cao.

You could interpret that as silent disapproval, but you could just as easily see it as indifference.

After all, once you allow the first slap, allowing a second doesn’t mean much. If the emperor said you were wronged but didn’t defend you, then maybe you weren’t that important after all.

That night, Shen Chuliu slept as soundly as usual—not the slightest trouble falling asleep.

At morning greetings, everyone was present.

An Yunu was pregnant, so she had missed a day.

Consort Yi arrived neither early nor late, still with her usual reserved demeanor.

Miao Xiaoyi, who had been slapped the day before, was now much more subdued.

In Fengzao Palace, there was never a shortage of people ready to speak, and the first was always He Xiuyi.

“Oh my, is it just me, or does Miao Xiaoyi’s face… is it swollen?”

Of course it wasn’t—but that didn’t stop her from mocking.

“Xiuyi-niangniang must be mistaken. Everything is fine,” Miao Xiaoyi said with her head down.

“If all is well, then remember to observe the rules from now on. You’ve come a long way from Shu—this palace doesn’t intend to be harsh, but you need to know your place.” The Empress rarely spoke directly to low-ranking consorts, but today she did.

“Yes, I will carefully follow the Empress’s teachings,” Miao Xiaoyi quickly replied.

The Empress continued, “Since Meiren Cao and An Yunu are both pregnant and not yet three months along, they are excused from greetings for now. Once the pregnancies are stable, they may return. I’ve already discussed this with the emperor and the Empress Dowager. If you deliver a healthy child—boy or girl—you will be promoted. Last time, a pregnancy ended poorly and I was furious. This time, if anyone dares reach out a hand where it doesn’t belong, don’t blame me for chopping it off.”

Everyone quickly bowed. “We respectfully follow the Empress’s decree.”