The Answer in the Incense Smoke

The scent of sandalwood lingered in the morning air.

A light mist drifted across the budding plum trees that had yet to bloom in full.

Within the tranquil temple of the inner palace, Xianlan knelt in a white robe before a tray of incense.

The curling smoke rose toward the sky in a gentle arc.

She had not come to pray for blessings from the gods—

but to send her heart to one who had passed: her mother.

"If you were still alive… how different would this world be?"

No matter how composed she appeared before others,

whenever she was enveloped in this familiar scent,

her heart trembled with a hidden softness buried deep within.

Soft footsteps approached from behind.

An elderly woman in pristine white entered, carrying a tray of incense offerings.

She was a senior palace maid who had long disappeared from the inner court.

Her name was Bi Su.

"Were you once assigned to Consort Yu Fei's quarters?"

Xianlan's voice was calm, but carried a quiet hope.

The old woman flinched slightly before bowing deeply.

"I… was among the last handmaidens who served in her quarters, Your Highness."

"That day—the final day of my mother's life…

What truly happened?"

Bi Su fell silent for a long while, then slowly pulled out a folded piece of paper.

"I haven't spoken of this for over fifteen years.

But seeing Your Highness… is like seeing her shadow from long ago.

I can no longer remain silent."

—

What the old woman revealed was this:

On the night before Consort Yu Fei's death,

a man dressed in official robes had entered her residence.

There was no record of his entry.

No one dared ask questions,

for he carried a special seal—one even the chief eunuch did not dare to obstruct.

"Your mother… on that day alone, her face changed in a way I had never seen.

She told me, if you ever grew up—

to search for what was missing from the records,

not what was written."

—

Xianlan clenched the piece of paper tightly.

She did not cry,

but her eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity.

"She meant… a name.

One that was once written, then erased?"

The old woman nodded softly,

then bowed and quietly withdrew.

—

That night, Xianlan invoked her privileges as a princess

to enter the deepest chamber of the imperial archive,

searching for official logs and records of palace visits from the past.

In the ledger of that year—there was a single blank space.

In the column for the name of the official who had entered Consort Yu Fei's residence—

Not a mark.

Just emptiness—as if no one had ever been there.

But as she was about to exhale in defeat,

her fingers brushed a faint abrasion on the page, nearly invisible to the eye.

Xianlan closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath,

then opened the backup archive box used for drafting documents before transcription.

And there…

she found a faded name that had not yet been burned.

A name… she had never imagined.

She did not speak it aloud,

but the look on Xianlan's face in that moment

was filled with revelation—and a pain too deep to erase.

—

Elsewhere,

Emperor Li Sicheng stood before a wide window,

gazing at the moonlight cascading over an old zither stand.

"You once told me… if you ever vanished, I must never forget that song."

His voice was barely audible.

"But I forgot everything… even your shadow."

The zither remained—

but the shadow of the one who played it had long dissolved into the mists of the past.

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