(2) A Time-Travel Encounter-Contunued
733 Words
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.”
- Writer
