A Voice Swallowed by the Storm  

Morning light had yet to stretch fully across the autumn sky when the seven golden ceremonial bells rang out in unison from the Hall of Rites.

Their metallic resonance clear and solemn echoed through the thin mist that still lingered along the palace walls, like a summons from the heavens themselves, rousing the capital from its hush in a single breath.

Across the ceremonial plaza before the Hall of Ancestors, a sapphire carpet had been unfurled with majestic grace.

Lining its edges stood rows of imperial guards clad in full regalia armor polished to a mirror sheen that caught the first rays of sun.

Their bearing was rigid, their posture exacting. Yet in the glint of their eyes lay an unmistakable tension, a readiness that whispered of unease.

High-ranking officials arrived in slow procession, their steps measured, their gazes wary.

Some exchanged glances, brief and guarded.

Others whispered behind fans of silk and sleeves of brocade murmuring of the "rumors" that had spread like wind through the court…

That someone, today, would speak aloud something meant never to be said.

Behind the sheer veil of golden silk, the women of the inner palace assembled in perfect order.

Their long robes swept the marble floor, and their hair was coiled high into elaborate knots adorned with jade hairpins of exquisite craftsmanship.

Yet none greeted one another.

For all knew this day would not unfold like any other.

And in the far corner beyond the gauze-draped curtain…

Bai Yue Ning stood quietly in a gown of pale silver.

Her gaze was as still as a frozen pond beneath the winter moon but within its reflection, shadows churned in quiet, terrible unrest.

Upon the dais, above the heads of all assembled,

Emperor Li Sichen ascended the throne with a composed air, yet the toll of a sleepless night weighed visibly upon him.

The once-imposing face, etched by power and pride, now bore the shadows of fatigue beneath weary eyes, and the tight line of his lips betrayed an unrest he could not conceal.

His gaze swept across the ceremonial grounds ministers in their ranks, noble ladies standing in silent poise, guards armored in gleaming rows.

Together, they resembled a wall of silence bracing for something…

Perhaps the greatest storm to strike the court in this reign.

Then came the sound of the ceremonial drums.

Thung…

Thung…

Thung…

A rhythm meant to herald dignity and grandeur, but now it rang heavy too heavy like iron shackles echoing through the very bones of the palace, binding its breath, stilling its voice.

From among the rows of the imperial princesses, a shift occurred.

Xianlan, robed in pale jade ceremonial silks elegant, serene stepped forward.

Her every footfall was steady, as though carved into the very steps that led to fate.

Above her, the cascading drapes of the pavilion swayed in the breeze, as though nature itself watched in quiet witness.

Beneath her feet, her shadow lengthened and slowly merged with the shadow of the ancient statue of a former emperor.

Her heart thundered within her chest, but her hands did not tremble.

This was the moment she had awaited her entire life.

And whether the world welcomed it or not…

today, the truth would no longer be swallowed by the storm.

Xianlan stood before the ancestral altar.

Before her lay the offering table, veiled in incense smoke that curled slowly into the air.

The golden lanterns shimmered, their light catching the hardened trails of wax marks left behind by the passage of time.

She did not kneel immediately, as she had in years past.

Instead, she lowered herself with grace, bowing her forehead to the floor in solemn deference.

She remained motionless… then slowly rose.

Her face was serene, but her gaze unyielding.

A faint murmur rippled through the ranks of ministers.

Yet it died as quickly as it came, silenced by the piercing stares of the imperial guards.

Emperor Li Sichen furrowed his brow slightly, but said nothing to stop her.

Xianlan lifted her head her eyes sharp as a blade sheathed in silk.

"I, Xianlan Fourth Princess of the Xianyu Kingdom on this sacred day of reverence before Heaven, before Earth, and before the souls of our honored ancestors… make this declaration."

Though her voice was not loud, it rang clear.

And with just the first few words, the great hall fell utterly silent as if some unseen force had bound every tongue and breath.

"I hereby petition to reopen the case of Consort Yu Fei, the mother who bore me… to restore her honor and name."

From the courtyard, the beat of the ceremonial drums faltered.

Even the instruments, it seemed, dared not interrupt her.

The emperor fixed his gaze upon her, his eyes heavy with unreadable weight.

Yet he spoke no word.

He simply let her continue.

"I offer evidence… and witnesses, which may prove that her death was not born of betrayal but the result of a deliberate assassination, carried out by those hidden within the shadows of the inner palace."

There were no spoken replies.

But across the crowd, emotion trembled like a breeze across still waters.

"I seek no title," she said, her voice unwavering.

"I call for no punishment.

I ask only for the right the right of a child still breathing beneath this sky to know the truth."

The air within the Ancestral Hall hung heavy like the stillness before a storm unleashes its wrath.

A wave of whispers rippled through the assembly of court officials.

Some turned to each other, eyes wide with alarm.

Others grew pale, as though they'd heard the voice of death calling from the void.

Hidden beneath the wide sleeve of her ceremonial robe, Noble Consort Su Zhen's hand trembled.

Her slender fingers dug into her own palm, leaving angry red marks.

The crimson lacquer on her lips quivered ever so slightly, though she fought to mask it.

Her gaze fixed upon Xianlan the girl who once had no voice, no power… now standing tall, bathed in light, defying the silence.

"That wretched girl… Does she intend to ruin everything here and now?"

She muttered under her breath, the words like venom.

Though barely audible, Su Lian, standing at her side, flinched.

The blood drained from her face in an instant.

Elsewhere, Empress Yun Qingyan sat motionless.

Not a single twitch of surprise passed over her face.

Her hands remained folded against her chest.

And when her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment a flicker of tears glistened behind their cool serenity.

"So… she has chosen to speak it aloud beneath Heaven's gaze."

Near the altar, Feng Yuhan stepped closer to Xianlan.

Though he didn't touch her, his presence was close enough that if lightning were to strike he would shield her without hesitation.

At the far edge of the ceremonial court,

Li Wenlong stood unmoving, his heartbeat thundering with no discernible rhythm.

The truth the long-buried, smothered truth was about to be spoken before the entire empire.

And he himself… he might soon be dragged into that same light.

"Father… will you choose to listen this time?

Or will you crush it once again?"

⸻

Then came the sound of footsteps.

Measured.

Deliberate.

Weighted with the will of a throne.

Emperor Li Sichen descended the steps of the platform, one by one.

He came to stand before the daughter he had once deemed unworthy of attention.

His eyes were shadowed.

And… strangely mournful.

His lips pressed into a firm line for a moment,

before he finally spoke his voice soft, yet heavier than any blade.

"Present your evidence… to Us."

Xianlan lifted the iron box in her hands without hesitation.

The hall fell into an almost unearthly silence as though the spirits of a hundred ancestors were watching from above, holding their breath.

And the moment the Emperor's hand accepted that box the drums sounded.

Not a ceremonial beat this time.

But a thunderous, resounding roar as if a dragon had awakened beneath the earth.

When the Lies Were Unveiled Beneath Heaven

The iron box in the emperor's hand felt far heavier than it should have.

It was not the weight of metal… but the burden of time—of secrets buried for over sixteen years.

Emperor Li Sichen's countenance was grave as he slowly undid the clasp of the box before the eyes of the entire imperial court.

The lid creaked open with a soft click, revealing documents yellowed by age thin sheets still bearing the creases left by the hands of a concubine long gone.

Inside were blueprints of a mechanized infant cradle,

a diagram of the hidden chambers within Consort Yu Fei's residence,

and a certified copy of the signature belonging to Imperial Physician Song Wenshan,

complete with the official seal of the Inner Palace.

The emperor's hands trembled slightly.

His gaze, once stern and unyielding, now flickered with stunned disbelief as though memories he had long repressed were being dragged, unbidden, back into the light.

"It wasn't only about Yu Fei… but also Wenlong…"

Li Sichen's voice emerged, low and labored,

each word seeming to cut into his heart like a blade.

The officials to his left and right widened their eyes.

Some even collapsed to their knees without realizing it for what lay inside that iron box… was the answer to questions no one had dared voice for more than a decade.

A faint whisper rose from the rear of the hall:

"Consort Yu Fei… was not a traitor?"

"And Prince Li Wenlong… he's not her son? Then… he must be"

But the words dissolved into the wind,

for in that very instant, Noble Consort Su Zhen rose to her feet with sudden fury.

"These are nothing but baseless allegations!"

"These documents cannot be proven authentic!"

"Your Majesty, I implore you if a lowborn woman is allowed to rewrite the history of the Inner Court, then no tradition in this palace shall be worth preserving!"

Her voice rang across the ceremonial grounds,

but her eyes betrayed the fear she could no longer hide.

Xianlan stood still. But the gaze she returned was as piercing as a blade, striking directly at the heart of the once-unshakable consort.

"If there is nothing to conceal…"

"Why, then, do you tremble so?"

Her voice was calm deliberately so.

Every person present could hear it, clear and unshaken.

Consort Su clenched her jaw.

She knew… from this moment on, no one could seal away a past that had been laid bare beneath the light of day.

⸻

The emperor stepped back, slowly.

He turned to look at Empress Yun Qingyan, and in his eyes was something that had not been seen in decades regret… far too late.

"Yun Qingyan… I… let you lose your son, without ever knowing the truth…"

The empress said nothing.

She merely folded her hands and lowered her head in silence.

One tear slid from the corner of her eye but there was no sound, no sob.

For a woman who had carried silence her entire life… tears did not need a voice.

⸻

The ceremonial drums thundered once more.

The echoes rose into the skies above the imperial city.

A great storm of change had begun.

And the voice once swallowed by that storm had returned,

and now the whole empire would have no choice but to listen.

*********

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