Chapter Thirty: Return to the Residence

Kimura Seiya and Kimura Seikon stayed in the imperial palace for a few days. After Ling Zetian had treated them with great hospitality, they bid their farewells and returned to their homeland.

At that time, Feng Qiuji was idling away in the Chaoyun Palace, bored out of her mind, when Xiao Hui brought her something, saying that Kimura Seiya had asked her to deliver it. When she opened the box, she found a fine jade pendant inside, together with a note expressing gratitude for saving his life.

Feng Qiuji quietly put the box away. She thought she could pawn it when she ran out of money, so she must keep it safe for now.

The date for Qin Ruyan’s entry into the palace was set for three days later. The Emperor had already sent out the imperial edict and bestowed a betrothal gift, granting her the rank of Noble Consort.

On the table still sat the medicine bestowed by the Empress Dowager, which Feng Qiuji had been reluctant to take. She felt this matter was none of her business, and since she was about to leave the palace, she wanted no part in these messy affairs. Thinking this, she picked up the bottle of medicine and tossed it out the window.

“Xiao Hui,” Feng Qiuji called her in, “I want to go home. I wonder if my parents ever doted on me before?”

“Go home?” Xiao Hui was so shocked by her words that her jaw nearly dropped. The young lady was the Empress, yet she was saying she wanted to go home?

“Help me pack,” Feng Qiuji said, rolling up her sleeves, preparing to start herself.

“But the Emperor…”

“I’ve left him a letter. He can draft an imperial decree for me; as long as it’s proclaimed to the world, nothing will come of it, right?” Feng Qiuji naturally approached problems with her own logic. She found the ways of this era far too troublesome—everything was needlessly drawn out and ceremonial. The Emperor wanted to marry a consort or depose an empress, and the whole world had to be informed. How was anyone supposed to live like this?

“You can’t do that, miss.”

“Silence.” Feng Qiuji now took on the full air of a young mistress. “Who’s the lady here, you or me? Hurry and help pack. Gather anything valuable!”

“Yes, miss.”

“Xiao Hui, if I just go home like this, how do you think my parents will treat me?”

“I fear the master and madam are too busy to care for you right now. There have been rumors in the palace lately that the Emperor intends to send the master to serve as an official in a far-off place. He’s probably preoccupied with that.”

“That’s good,” Feng Qiuji muttered. Truth be told, she was afraid of going home and being lectured by clueless parents. After all, the Empress’s position was something many people aspired to, but she herself couldn’t care less. Oh well, she thought, I’m just not cut out for this. Better to go back to being a simple country girl.

Strolling the streets, eating good food, dating handsome men, having fun—wasn’t that delightful?

“Feng Qiuji, what do you think you’re doing?!” A voice from outside the door made Feng Qiuji jump.

She turned to see Anuo.

He rushed in, and when he saw that she had almost finished packing, he clung to her leg, pitifully asking, “Are you leaving?”

“Yes. From now on, Anuo, you must listen to your father. If you get the chance, you can come visit me.” Feng Qiuji smiled and patted his head, continuing to pack.

“No way!” Anuo shouted, “If you’re going, take me with you!”

Feng Qiuji blinked. Why did that sound so much like eloping? She eyed Anuo. “Are you out of your mind?”

“If you don’t take me, I won’t let you go.”

“Forget it. If I take you, your father will have me hunted across the country. I don’t want to be a kidnapper,” Feng Qiuji shook her head firmly. This was out of the question.

“I don’t care. You have to take me.”

“I’m going home, which isn’t your home. Why do you want to come with me?” Feng Qiuji was truly exasperated—this kid was impossible, not listening to a word she said.

“But this isn’t my home either. From now on, your home is my home!” Anuo was determined to cling to her. “I don’t like Qin Ruyan, so I want to go with you. What if she bullies me after you’re gone?”

“Don’t worry, she’ll never mistreat you. She’s your aunt; why would she harm you? She’ll be even better to you than I am,” Feng Qiuji pressed her hand to her forehead, helpless. So that’s what he was afraid of? Clearly, stepmothers had a bad reputation in this kid’s mind—who knew who’d told him that.

But Feng Qiuji wasn’t his real mother either! What was all this nonsense?

“What are you two doing?” Another voice came from outside.

Feng Qiuji turned, and saw it was Ling Zetian.

He entered, glanced at the luggage, and immediately understood. With a frown, he said, “Put everything back.”

If she took everything from Chaoyun Palace, how was he supposed to live here?

“But…” Feng Qiuji pouted, clearly reluctant.

“I’ll give you another hundred thousand taels of silver…”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” At these words, Feng Qiuji beamed. She really would be a wealthy woman now—once she left the palace, she could keep as many pretty boys as she liked!

“Do you really want to leave the palace?”

“No…” But you’re taking another wife, so what am I supposed to do if I stay? Feng Qiuji had never been one to fight for love. If two people were in love, she didn’t mind stepping aside.

He fell silent.

“Father, Anuo wants to go with Mother.” Ling Shunuo tugged at Ling Zetian’s trousers and spoke.

“No.” Ling Zetian replied coldly. This boy was getting out of hand—he wanted to run off with someone else and abandon his father, who’d cared for him since birth?

“Then, Father, issue a decree so Mother can’t leave…” Anuo’s lips trembled, tears threatening.

“That’s for you to discuss with your mother.” Ling Zetian glanced at Feng Qiuji.

“Mother,” Anuo ran over and hugged her leg again, “please don’t go. Anuo doesn’t want you to leave. Stay, please.”

“Be good, Anuo. Stay with your father.” Feng Qiuji patted his head, then turned to Ling Zetian. “Your Majesty, it’s getting late. I’ll go home now. As for the parting gift, you may send the silver notes to the Prime Minister’s mansion another day.”

Ling Zetian said nothing, simply watching how far she would take this. Oh well, let her be.

And so, Feng Qiuji left the palace just like that.

She thought there had probably never been an empress so lacking in status in all of history. After months in the role, she still didn’t know what she had accomplished—her time had been wasted.

Leaving the palace, she had Xiao Hui lead her home, since she had no idea how to get there. As they walked, they noticed a crowd at a street corner, pointing and talking animatedly.

“This time Lord Qin is sure to rise even higher,” said one bystander.

“Yes, when one person succeeds, the whole family follows. The Qin family is truly blessed,” said another.

“Alas, we commoners aren’t so lucky,” sighed a third.

Feng Qiuji listened to their chatter and glanced at the public notice. She suddenly wished she could tear the imperial edict down.

It was infuriating—did the Emperor really need to post a public notice just to take a consort? If he took a dozen at once, would he plaster the whole city with these notices?

She hated having her affairs made so public, subject to everyone’s gossip—even if, for now, they weren’t talking about her.

But she could already imagine what people would say once the edict deposing her was posted. She’d be branded a discarded woman, mocked by all. The thought alone was unbearable.

Why was fate so unfair to her?

“Miss, let’s go. Don’t look,” Xiao Hui tugged her sleeve, seeing her seething with anger, clearly wanting to rip down the notice. Xiao Hui had foreseen this outcome and was calm about it, but Feng Qiuji was still so indignant.

“Alright, let’s go home,” Feng Qiuji agreed. She decided to have a good meal with Xiao Hui and forget all these troubles, pretending they had nothing to do with her!

The Prime Minister’s mansion was in the most prosperous part of the capital and occupied a vast area.

Though Feng Qiuji was the Prime Minister’s daughter, this was actually her first time here.

Just like the wealthy homes in television dramas, the gates were grand, with a golden plaque above reading “Prime Minister’s Mansion.” It certainly looked the part.

The gatekeepers were startled to see her return and hurried inside to report.

Before long, a middle-aged woman came out to greet her—presumably her mother.

As in all such tales, the elegant lady first cupped Feng Qiuji’s face, looking her over from head to toe, then exclaimed, “My dear Jier, you’ve suffered so much. You’ve grown so thin…” and began to wail, hugging her tightly.

Hearing the name “Jier,” Feng Qiuji nearly choked.

She had made up her mind—truly, absolutely, irrevocably—tomorrow, she would change her name! She simply must! Tomorrow it would be!

She could not endure this name any longer. Even if others didn’t know what it meant, it grated horribly on her own ears. She had to cast off this shadow and start anew!

Her mother cried over her for a while, then led her inside.

Just as they turned a corner, a voice clear as an oriole’s rang out: “Well, isn’t this the Empress herself? Why aren’t you staying in the palace? What brings you home?”

Feng Qiuji looked up to see a woman in yellow, swaying her slender waist, standing not far away and eyeing her with open mockery.

And who was this woman?

Feng Qiuji immediately thought that not everyone in the Prime Minister’s mansion was decent. Though this was her home, this woman clearly was trouble.

“What, cat got your tongue?” The woman in yellow approached, full of disdain. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I was just admiring how beautiful this elder sister is,” Feng Qiuji replied, turning to Madam Qin, “Mother, is this one of Father’s new concubines from the pleasure quarters?”

—Side note: The next part will be a tale of intrigue in the household. Although I’ve never written one before, I’ll give it a try—please don’t be too harsh if I end up abandoning it.