A Time-Travel Encounter

One evening, General Sabusu hosted a banquet for his fellow officials. After several rounds of drinks, the guests, as if in agreement, began urging him to have his second daughter perform for entertainment. Riding the high spirits of the evening, Sabusu readily agreed.

Lady Uya, feeling helpless, ordered a silk curtain to be drawn in the pavilion, allowing Murong to perform behind it. Murong, seeing the lotus flowers in full bloom across the pond, felt a surge of joy and chose to play the lively "Lotus Emerging from Water."

The moment the melody flowed from her fingers, the audience was enraptured, their worries and burdens seemingly washed away, as if stepping into an ethereal paradise. To play so skillfully in just half a year was no easy feat, but Murong's passion for classical music had begun long before. Though she had primarily studied Western instruments, her fascination with traditional music had led her to secretly learn the guqin and flute. Even during her time in Europe, she often performed at university recitals as a guest musician.

As the final note lingered in the air, the pavilion fell into an eerie silence. Murong hesitated before speaking, "Forgive my humble skills if I have offended your ears."

Only then did the audience snap out of their trance, erupting into applause.

Among them was a newly appointed tanhua—third-ranking scholar of the imperial examinations. He stepped forward, cupped his hands, and said, "The young lady's reputation precedes her. To hear you play in person is an honor beyond words. I am Lin, this year's tanhua. May I ask, which poet do you most admire?"

Hearing no trace of malice in his tone, only pure curiosity, Murong mirrored his scholarly manner and replied thoughtfully, "You flatter me, sir. I have read many Tang and Song poems, each a masterpiece in its own right. If I must choose a favorite, it would be the works of Nalan Rongruo. It is a pity that…" She sighed softly, thinking of the brilliant poet she had missed meeting due to her time travel.

Lin tanhua also sighed, longing to continue the conversation, perhaps even catch a glimpse of her face. But fearing impropriety, he refrained.

Soon, the news of General Sabusu's daughter being a literary prodigy spread throughout the capital.

—

When Han Feng heard the news, he was sipping tea at a teahouse, overhearing a group of scholars passionately praising her. A faint smile crossed his lips.

"It's been over a year… How has that little girl grown? A prodigy? Perhaps. She always had a pair of intelligent eyes…"

Yet, despite his amusement, a suppressed thought surfaced—how had her frail body suddenly grown so strong?

With a deep sigh, he pushed the thought away.

—

The Looming Shadow of Selection

Another year and a half passed. The entire household celebrated Murong's fourteenth birthday, yet Lady Uya was quietly distressed.

Murong, noticing her mother's frequent sighs and silent tears, pressed for answers until she finally learned the truth—the imperial consort selection, held once every three years, was about to begin.

Her heart sank. No wonder her mother was in despair. Three years had passed, and she had long seen this place as home. But forcing a smile, she reassured her mother.

Lady Uya tried everything—she even wished Murong would fall ill again. She pleaded with Sabusu to have a Han girl take her place, but he only shook his head.

"She is my daughter too, and I care for her deeply. But Murong has drawn too much attention—her talent is the talk of the city. If we swap her out, the deception will be obvious."

Hearing this, Lady Uya became even more sorrowful. Her worries soon took a toll on her health, and on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, she collapsed from illness.

Murong had been at her aunt's house delivering gifts when a maid came running with urgent news—her mother had coughed up blood.

Without hesitation, she rushed home, flinging open the door—only to come face to face with Han Feng.

He froze.

Three years. Three years of quiet longing. And now, she stood before him.

She had grown taller, with the graceful charm of a young woman.

What Han Feng couldn't see, however, was that while her physical age had increased, her mental age had regressed. Three years of warmth and family had softened her. She had let her guard down.

Murong barely acknowledged his stunned expression, nodding briefly before hurrying to her mother's bedside.

"Mother, are you alright? Please don't scare me…"

Lady Uya grasped Murong's hand, reluctant to let go. "I'm fine, my child."

Han Feng stepped forward, his tone calm. "Miss Murong, Lady Uya's illness is due to emotional distress. With proper care, she will recover. Do not worry."

Turning to Lady Uya, he added gently, "Madam, your daughter is exceptionally intelligent. Even in the palace, she will know how to protect herself. You must have faith."

Lady Uya sighed and nodded. "Doctor Han, you have cured my daughter's illness before. I owe you much gratitude. I heard you are soon to enter the Imperial Medical Academy. When Murong enters the palace, I will have to trouble you to watch over her."

She gestured to a servant, who brought out a lacquered box. Han Feng opened it—a set of fine calligraphy brushes. Knowing it would be impolite to refuse, he accepted them with thanks.

Murong, seeing her mother's condition stabilize, finally relaxed. Turning to Han Feng, she asked, "Doctor Han, you are entering the palace? Didn't you say you hated restrictions?"

Han Feng forced a bitter smile. "A physician's duty is to heal, no matter the place. The palace has summoned me multiple times. How can a commoner resist an imperial decree?"

Murong nodded, flashing a small smile. "Then perhaps we'll see each other often."

That smile—his heart clenched.

But seeing her embrace her mother, oblivious to his pain, Han Feng steadied himself and took his leave.

—

Entering the Forbidden City

Months later, Lady Uya reluctantly accepted reality and focused on preparing Murong for court life. She pulled every string possible, ensuring that Consort Virtue—her sister and a favored consort of the Emperor—would look after Murong.

And so, in autumn, Murong departed for Beijing.

On the road to the Forbidden City, she let her old instincts resurface.

"Since I'm here, I might as well figure out how Yongzheng really took the throne," she mused, smirking to herself.

The thought made her chuckle. A carriage full of noble ladies turned to look at her in shock.

Murong, already well-known, with a beauty that drew envious glares, now laughing to herself? It was enough to send some of the other candidates seething with jealousy.

She swept a glance at them, her smirk deepening. So, it begins.

After the preliminary selection, some girls were eliminated, while most advanced. Murong had already known—it was never about beauty, but about bloodline.

Once settled in the palace, she discreetly observed the other candidates.

Among them, three stood out:

Yaojia – Stunningly beautiful but arrogant.Lingyun – Elegant, poised, and quietly calculating.Mingxian – Indifferent, observing everything with cold detachment.

Murong suspected Lingyun and Mingxian were the true contenders. Yaojia? She'd likely be a pawn.

Among those forced into selection, one girl stood out—Xiaoyu.

With an unremarkable appearance but an aura of scholarly refinement, she was placed in the neighboring quarters. Unlike the scheming girls, Xiaoyu was genuinely kind. Murong found herself drawn to her, and the two quickly became companions.

One evening, a young eunuch arrived.

"Which one of you is Fuca Murong?"

Murong stepped forward. "That would be me."

The eunuch grinned. "The Virtuous Consort has summoned you."

Murong gathered the letter and gifts her mother had prepared, bid Xiaoyu farewell, and followed the eunuch to Changchun Palace.

"Murong greets Consort Virtue. May Your Highness live a thousand years."

"Come here, child. No need for formalities with your aunt."

Consort Virtue pulled Murong to sit beside her, and Murong quickly presented her mother's letter and gifts. As Consort Virtue lowered her head to read the letter, Murong seized the moment to quietly observe her.

The consort bore a strong resemblance to her mother. Time had left its mark on both their faces, but while Lady Uya carried the graceful dignity of a devoted wife and loving mother, Consort Virtue had the polished, unreadable composure of a woman who had long navigated the treacherous waters of the imperial harem. Yet beneath her poised exterior, Murong detected a subtle weariness—a quiet exhaustion from years of palace intrigue.

Both women had shared their husband with others, yet Murong felt that her mother was the luckier one. At least she had love, and she had Murong.

Thinking of her mother alone, surely missing her dearly, a pang of sorrow surged in Murong's chest. Her nose tingled as she whispered, "Aunt, my mother thinks of you often."

Consort Virtue's eyes softened, and she pulled Murong into a gentle embrace, a few silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

Just as the moment turned melancholic, a eunuch's voice called from outside.

"Your Highness, the Fourth and Fourteenth Princes seek an audience."

Consort Virtue dabbed at her eyes, then tenderly wiped away Murong's unshed tears as well. Patting her shoulder, she smiled warmly. "Good child, from now on, I will look after you." Then, turning toward the door, she called out, "Let them in."

Murong's heart raced. She was about to meet the future Emperor Yongzheng.

A mix of anticipation and curiosity filled her as she instinctively rose to her feet, only to be gently pulled back down by Consort Virtue.

"No need to be nervous. They are your cousins."

The two princes stepped inside and bowed respectfully.

Murong stole a glance at them.

The elder of the two, likely in his early twenties, had a cold and distant demeanor—this must be the Fourth Prince, Yinzhen. The younger one, closer to her own age, carried a lively and more approachable air—undoubtedly the Fourteenth Prince.

While Consort Virtue was momentarily distracted, Murong swiftly rose to her feet and curtsied.

"Greetings to the Fourth and Fourteenth Princes."