The Girl Who Struggled Through Palace Intrigues to Become the Empress

Chapter 493

Due to the sudden passing of the Crown Prince, on New Year's Eve of that year, the Zhu Yin dynasty shed its red attire and donned layers of pure white mourning clothes.

The winter day was cool, suitable for preserving the body, but the late Crown Prince's remains had already decayed beyond recognition during the journey from the Capital City back to Zhu Yin.

Thus, the Emperor decided to hold the national mourning ceremony the next day, despite the haste. At least the wandering soul would have a resting place in the homeland soil.

At the funeral, the entire court of civil and military officials grieved deeply, but none was as emotionally shaken as Jiang Muye.

He deeply cherished the bond with his sworn brother. After laying his brother to rest, he clenched his fists and wept, vowing to seek justice for his brother.

In front of the entire court, he passionately urged everyone to rise up and overthrow the Qi Dynasty.

The officials fell silent upon hearing his words, while he stood alone like a solitary fighter, futilely defying the powers that be.

It was the Emperor's harsh slap across his face that finally silenced his ravings.

"How will you avenge your brother? With your brash defiance that knows no bounds, or with your meager stature that cannot wield a sword steadily?"

Later, as the officials bowed their heads, I attended closely to Jiang Muye, standing less than ten paces away from him.

I heard his muffled sobs, and I also heard the Emperor's unusually weary tone as he passed by Jiang Muye, saying:

"I am not only the father of you and Mu Qiu, but also the pillar of support for the people of Zhu Yin. Your brother is gone, and no one can change that fact. As my only remaining son, you must learn to endure and accept."

Endure the humiliation, accept fate.

It was then that I realized,

in times of chaos, even those we perceive as lofty emperors are merely mortals donning splendid robes to conceal their lowly existence, much like ants desperately clinging to survival.

From that day onwards, I never saw Jiang Muye cry again.

He emulated his late brother's diligence, rising before dawn each day to either practice martial arts or study statecraft, filling his entire day with activities.

He seemed to have abandoned the hatred in his heart and overcome his grief over his brother's death, no longer wallowing in sorrow.

But I knew that for a long time after, he lived behind the door of the Candle Dragon Palace, which his brother had firmly locked:

that same powerlessness, fear, and darkness beyond sight.

Perhaps because we shared the pain of losing a loved one and being utterly helpless, I could deeply empathize with his feelings at the time. Our private interactions became more frequent from then on.

Gradually, we were no longer master and servant, but rather... friends?

Just like Huzi and I used to be.

At least, that was how I perceived it back then.

A few years later, due to budget constraints, the palace had reached a point where maids had to be dismissed and sent away.

The head matron was also let go during that time, and I became the head of the Zhu Yin Hall after her departure.

I was barely eleven years old then, hardly capable of shouldering such responsibilities.

I asked Jiang Muye, "The head matron managed the Zhu Yin Hall so well, why must she be sent away?"

Outside the Zhuyin Imperial City, chaos reigned, and the common people struggled to find enough food, with cases of parents selling their children for sustenance occurring frequently. For a woman dismissed from the palace, without means of making a living, starvation or being devoured by others was a grim possibility.

Yet Jiang Muye coldly replied, "Nothing in particular. I simply cannot stand her lectures to me. You and I are of similar age, so you won't nag me as much, which is less vexing."

As he said this, I saw a flicker of sorrow in his eyes.

Thus, I did not pursue the matter further.

The duties of the head matron were no easy task.

From then on, in addition to attending to Jiang Muye daily, I had to spend my free time with other palace maids doing needlework, which would be handed over to the grand matron to be sold or traded for money in the Qi Dynasty.

Not just me, but almost all the women in the Zhu Yin Hall did the same:

we sacrificed all our leisure time, doing what little we could to help our country repay the debts owed to the Qi Dynasty, one by one.

Although life was harsh, I seldom heard anyone complain,

for we all understood clearly that if the taxes were not paid in full, the Qi Dynasty would attack again at any moment.

Our collective endurance at this moment was simply our shared desire to protect our home.

Days passed by in this manner, the routine busyness numbing us.

When I turned thirteen, Jiang Muye was sixteen.

Unlike other realms where girls came of age at fifteen, in Zhu Yin, boys underwent the ceremonial capping at sixteen.

At the beginning of that year, the Emperor had already started arranging Jiang Muye's marriage.

Daughters of noble families were scheduled to enter the palace two days after Jiang Muye's birthday, and he would personally select his bride.

As the one responsible for his daily needs, I naturally had to be especially attentive during this important occasion.

So the night before, I brought him new clothes and carefully groomed his hair and headpiece, even cheerfully remarking, "Lord Muye, you look so handsome dressed up like this!"

But he was annoyed, "Once I'm married and establish my own household, I won't need you attending to me anymore. What? Are you looking forward to being rid of me and feeling relieved?"

We had grown up together, and now facing separation, I naturally felt a sense of loss too.

At first, I didn't understand that hollow, sour feeling.

But hearing his harsh words, I retorted impulsively without decorum, "Of course. Once you're gone, my lord, there won't be anyone nagging me anymore."

Upon hearing this, he stared at me intently for a long while, his eyes glistening with a strange moisture.

Then, he abruptly turned away, angrily throwing the clothes he was supposed to wear the next day onto the floor before storming out of the room.

[Note: Resuming regular updates from 10.7 onwards. Too many family matters these past few days to write. A humble author, bowing in apology.]