The Moonless Night
When the moon vanishes from the heavens, shadows once hidden begin to reveal their true form.
The late-winter breeze drifted softly through the treetops of the imperial gardens, carrying the lingering scent of white plum blossoms that bloomed later than their season. The fragrance brushed gently against the slender nose of the young woman who stood still beneath the sheer curtain on the veranda of her palace.
Xianlan said nothing. She merely allowed the tips of her hair to dance with the wind. Her composed face was lit faintly by the glow of candlelight spilling out from within the hall. That glow painted delicate shadows across her skin like a fading ink-wash painting rendering her less a person, and more a silhouette among silhouettes. A figure not meant to be seen on a night such as this.
The Hua Lan Palace was unusually quiet. Xiao Yanjin had fallen asleep early, and the attending maids had long since withdrawn to their quarters. There was no clinking of ornaments, no soft footfalls.
...Not even the sound of the moon.
Looking up, she saw nothing but a thick veil of darkness overhead clouds cloaking a sky without stars. The moon did not deign to cast its light upon the earth. It was as if the entire sky had chosen silence, waiting... for something to unfold.
Tonight's silence was not ordinary.
—
The latest rumors had spread through the inner palace like wildfire for days. No one knew who had started them but every whisper seemed to converge upon the same name: Princess Xianlan.
Once forgotten, her name was now spoken only in caution.
The ministers discussed her with anxious eyes. The palace eunuchs, when questioned, would deflect or avert their gaze. Even the other consorts had begun offering cryptic warnings to one another.
And at the residence of Guifei Su Zhen, a chilling whisper slid from her lips colder than frost before dawn.
"Shadows of the past… should never be brought back into the light."
She placed her teacup gently upon the stone table, her fingertip leaving a pale imprint in the shape of a phoenix with outstretched wings. Behind her, the palace maids stood frozen in silence.
"When the moon does not rise, the heavens offer no direction," Su Zhen murmured. "It is time we erase that shadow once and for all."
—
In the highest chamber of the imperial palace, Emperor Li Sicheng sat alone. He reclined on a velvet cushion before a carved table adorned with the pattern of a seven-winged bird. Before him stood a wine cup, untouched.
Tonight… he had not spoken a word.
Only when a gust of wind slipped through the window did he rise. Slowly, he walked to an antique cabinet tucked into the corner and opened a drawer rarely touched.
Inside lay a small box, one no one else knew existed.
When he opened it, the faint scent of aged wood and old paper drifted outward.
Inside was a faded bundle of cotton cloth and a wooden toy shaped like a red plum blossom worn, but carefully etched. It was the toy Xianlan had dropped… ten years ago.
And in that instant, a voice long buried in memory stirred within him:
"Your Majesty… when Lan'er grows older, may I ask that you be the one to teach her to write?"
"Why not you?"
"Because… I want her to know there are hands in this world warmer than a mother's."
His hand, still holding the toy, trembled slightly.
He slowly sat down.
Lan'er…
—
Soft footsteps approached behind Xianlan.
She did not turn. She knew who it was.
Feng Yuhan wore only a plain navy robe no princely seal, no ceremonial sash. He had not come as a crown prince, but as a man… who wished to hear a voice no one else could.
"You should rest," he said gently as he stood beside her.
Xianlan offered a faint smile, replying only after a long pause.
"I've rested long enough… in the days when I had no name, no title, no voice."
"Tonight, I only ask to reclaim those lost hours… to make them count."
He turned to look at her. Her face, though untouched by adornment, bore the quiet dignity of one who no longer feared judgment. Her almond-shaped eyes, calm in expression, shimmered with a steely defiance.
"The forgery scandal… it's reaching the Hall of Oaths," he said.
"I know." She nodded lightly. "And I'm waiting… for someone to believe they've already won."
"You know who's behind it?"
"Enough to smile at him… without speaking a single accusation."
Yuhan fell silent for a moment. Then, he extended something toward her.
A small slip of paper, marked with the same forged seal used in the counterfeit edict.
"You should be the one to hold this," he said. "You'll wield it sharper than I ever could."
Xianlan took it with both hands, her gaze unwavering.
"Will you truly stand with me?" she asked softly.
"If I do… I will not call it helping," he answered plainly. "I will call it standing beside you."
—
At the Imperial Library — Hour of the Pig
The sound of a eunuch's quiet steps echoed faintly between the towering shelves of ancient tomes. He climbed the old wooden ladder toward the uppermost level, where he'd been tasked with returning account books from Guifei Su Zhen's palace.
As his hand reached for one of the older scrolls… something slipped out and fell.
The sound was soft but in the silence, it rang sharp.
He bent down and picked it up.
A slim volume of medical formulas, opened to a particular recipe:
"Mild poison used to erase traces of prior toxins…Takes effect within two hours, leaves no residue."
The name of the recorder: Consort Jingfei.
The eunuch froze.
His face turned pale.
The most recent person to request this scroll at the library… only yesterday…was Su Mengyu.
—
On the Other Side of the Palace — The Lotus Courtyard Behind the Western Wing
Jiang Xinluo walked with measured steps beneath the hush of night. She said nothing, yet her pace quickened slightly upon seeing a shadowed figure waiting at the end of the path.
An older maid, dressed in muted grey, bowed respectfully before speaking in a low voice.
"Several of Her Highness's maids have begun showing similar symptoms, my lady."
"The imperial physician diagnosed it merely as 'accumulated cold poison'…"
Jiang Xinluo narrowed her eyes.
"True cold poison doesn't cause labored breathing every day after the hour of Chen."
Her gaze shifted toward the shadowed servant quarters beneath the trees.
"Rotate the watch shifts. No one is to drink tea within the residence until I've examined it myself."
The maid bowed again and disappeared into the darkness.
Just as Jiang Xinluo turned to leave, the soft patter of footsteps approached unexpectedly.
"Lady Jiang…"
The delicate voice of Xiao Yanjin, the little boy under Xianlan's care, drifted from the night.
"If one day… there's no one left beside Elder Sister… will you protect me?"
His wide eyes shimmered with tremulous resolve.
Jiang Xinluo froze in that moment.
She, too, had once been a child forgotten by the world a child no one had ever asked, "What do you need?" A child no one had ever stood beside.
She knelt slowly, gently placing her hand on his small shoulder.
"You will never be alone again," she whispered. "I… will stand by you."
That promise was not made to a child alone…
But to a future she had now chosen to protect with her own hands.
—
Within the Hidden Study of the Crown Prince's Residence, Feng Yuhan sat alone in silence.
He unfolded the latest report before him a thin sheet marked faintly with blood along the upper right corner.
It listed names of those tied to suspicious requests for medicinal supplies from the imperial apothecary ten years ago.
And the names he saw… were not only "Consort Jingfei."
They included: Qin Zhi, Su Zhen, and the current Chief of the Bureau of Medicine who still held office.
He placed a small iron ring atop the paper.
It was the signet of the Central Registry Office: one of the few pieces of evidence capable of linking an official seal to illicit medicinal requisitions.
He stared at it for a long moment. Then, closing his eyes, he murmured to himself:
"Lan'er… you're facing shadows I've never seen clearly myself."
"But if I remain silent… you will have to stand alone once again."
He reached for the imperial record book, tore out the page documenting his former engagement to Su Mengyu …and fed it into the brazier's flame.
The fire flared softly in the dim room like a moon rising over a sky without stars.
—
Final Hours of the Night — In the Imperial Palace
Li Sicheng stood gazing at the small wooden toy cradled gently in his hand.
He had not spoken to another soul in what felt like days.
But on this night, he spoke to his own reflection in the mirror with a voice as faint as wind:
"Lan'er… you will not be killed a second time."
His eyes dimmed beneath the reflection of fading candlelight.
And that night… not a single moonbeam touched the sky.
Only a few hidden lights began to burn bravely within the dark flickers from those the world thought silent, from those believed too weak to move the board forgetting that shadows do not exist...without light to cast them.
"This chapter has been updated with improved narrative and deeper character perspective. The plot remains unchanged."
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