Axin helped Ning Zhiqing into the frigid room and eased her down onto the bed before turning to leave.
Half-conscious, Ning Zhiqing clutched her sleeve weakly, her voice trembling, "Consort Lin… no, Lady Lin, where are you going?"
Axin glanced back at her—her face flushed crimson, her skin hot as flame. "You've been drugged."
"I know."
There was panic beneath her voice. Lin Guiren—the woman who had just saved her from a fate worse than death—was her only hope now. "Please… help me."
Axin crouched down beside her, holding Ning Zhiqing's cold hand. She used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her face and asked calmly, "Do you want cold water—or a man?"
"Cold water, of course."
Ning Zhiqing let out a short, bitter laugh. The faint scent on the other woman's body—a clean, faint floral note—made her feel clearer, steadier. She stared, dazed, at Axin's delicate face.
They had entered the palace in the same year, yet something about Lin Guiren now felt utterly different.
Just yesterday, Ning Zhiqing had been thrown into the Cold Palace—her title of Noble Consort not yet stripped, her dignity nearly destroyed. When she had already lost hope, Axin appeared—once known as the brilliant, gentle daughter of the Grand Tutor—and now capable of dragging her out of hell with her own hands.
Perhaps this was what life in the Cold Palace did to people.
"Wait here."
Axin freed her sleeve and hurried out, her steps light and fast. Not long after, she returned carrying a wooden bucket.
Seeing her return, Ning Zhiqing relaxed slightly, though the heat crawling over her skin made it impossible to stay still. She clenched the blanket with both fists, knuckles white, biting back a groan. The beauty of her features was now mixed with defiance and pain.
Axin made several trips until the bucket was half full. Ning Zhiqing could see the water shimmering inside. "Is it ready yet?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"Not yet. It's not cold enough."
Axin dipped a hand into the bucket, frowned, and looked up. "Wait a moment. I'll be right back."
This time, Ning Zhiqing waited long enough for the drug to take full hold. Even her strong will couldn't stop the dizzying heat spreading through her veins. By the time Axin returned with chunks of ice, Ning Zhiqing had already torn off most of her clothing—leaving only her undergarments and thin red dudou.
Any man seeing her now would have lost control instantly.
Axin tossed the ice into the bucket, the water hissing faintly as it chilled. Then she walked over and helped the trembling woman to her feet.
Ning Zhiqing tensed at the first touch—then relaxed as that same clean fragrance reached her nose. Somehow, that faint scent made her feel safe.
"There's ice in the water," Axin murmured. "It's very cold."
"I'm not afraid."
When the cold water enveloped her skin, Ning Zhiqing shuddered violently, hugging her arms to her chest. But her mind cleared; the fire faded.
A soft hand brushed sweat from her brow.
"Lady Lin… thank you," she whispered.
As the heat ebbed, she watched Axin tending the small fire to brew medicine and asked curiously, "Where did you get the ice?"
"From the cellar."
"How?"
The palace cellars weren't accessible to everyone—especially not to those in the Cold Palace. Ice was a luxury reserved for favored concubines in summer.
Before she could ask more, Axin replied evenly, "I went myself."
Went herself? In this hour? The thought made Ning Zhiqing's heart skip. The other woman looked so calm—too calm.
"What about the medicine?"
"From the Imperial Infirmary."
"It's already deep night. There's no one there."
"Exactly," Axin said, eyes still on the fire. "That's why it was easy to take. If people were there, I couldn't have."
So she stole it.
Ning Zhiqing stared at her, half in disbelief. The famed, gentle daughter of the Grand Tutor—a thief now? And all to save her?
They had no bond, no reason. Why take such a risk? One discovery meant certain death.
"You…" she began, but Axin interrupted, carrying a clean inner robe over.
"Are you still in pain?"
"No… just cold," she admitted through chattering teeth.
Axin helped her out of the tub, glancing briefly at her shivering body. "Can you change on your own?"
Ning Zhiqing reached for the robe, but her fingers were too numb to grasp it. "I… can't. I'm sorry."
Without hesitation, Axin took over—quick, efficient, completely unflustered.
Ning Zhiqing's face burned even redder. She had been dressed by maids before—but never like this. Never by someone like her.
"Th–the rest, I can do myself," she stammered, clutching her undergarments and dressing as fast as she could.
By the time she turned around, Axin had already wrapped her in a blanket. "Lie down. You'll catch cold if you don't drink the medicine."
Ning Zhiqing obeyed, sitting obediently on the bed, her bright eyes following Axin's every movement.
When the bowl of steaming medicine was ready, Axin handed it over. "All the palace gates are shut. I couldn't get candied fruit. The sweet herbs from the infirmary—I couldn't find them. So it might be a bit bitter."
Ning Zhiqing nearly spat it out. She actually thought of that? If the gates hadn't been closed, would she really have fetched candied plums for her?
This fallen noblewoman was far more capable—and mysterious—than rumors claimed.
Everyone knew: the Grand Tutor Lin had been accused of embezzling disaster relief grain, causing mass famine. Emperor Helian Zheng had spared the family from execution, exiling them instead. Lin died on the road, trampled by starving mobs. His daughter, Lin Xin, was demoted and thrown into the Cold Palace.
But Ning Zhiqing had never believed the tale. Lin Taifu was known for his integrity and brilliance. Perhaps he'd been framed.
After drinking the bitter medicine, Ning Zhiqing curled under the blanket, trembling slightly. Her fingers dug into her palms, nails biting skin as tears welled again.
"What's wrong?"
Axin sat beside her, gently wiping the tears away.
"My father… they say he's plotting rebellion," Ning Zhiqing whispered, voice shaking. "They've found 'evidence.' The Emperor's ordered his arrest. If he's brought back to the capital, he'll die."
Her tears came faster.
"My father can't even read properly. He just knows how to fight—he never cared for power. It was Helian Zheng who forced me into the palace! My father didn't want me here! He volunteered to guard the borders to put the Emperor at ease—and now…"
She broke down.
"If he hears I've been thrown into the Cold Palace—nearly humiliated—he'll storm the capital without a second thought. Then they'll have proof of his rebellion!"
"I finally understand," she choked out, "why Bai Xi wanted this to happen. This was her plan all along. They don't have real evidence, so they want to use me as bait. Once something happens to me, my father will march right into their trap."
Her nails dug deeper. "Even if nothing happens, they could send a false message—and he'd still come. He trusts too easily."
She suddenly looked at Axin, eyes desperate. "You're a genius—everyone says so! Please, help me save him. I don't care if I lose favor or live here forever. I just want my father to live."
Axin reached up, wiping her tears again. "I'll help you."
"What do you want in return?"
"From now on, do as I say. Whatever I tell you to do—you do."
Ning Zhiqing hesitated, then nodded. "Alright."
"Then sleep."
She wanted to ask how Axin planned to help—but the calm certainty in her tone made her fall silent. Exhaustion took over, and she drifted into uneasy sleep.
Once Ning Zhiqing's breathing evened out, Axin wrapped herself in a cloak and sat quietly by the bed.
A faint orb of light appeared before her.
"I want your body," she told it softly. "Name your price."
A woman's voice answered from within. "Two conditions. First, clear my father's name. Second, make Helian Zheng and Bai Xi suffer—truly suffer. Don't let them die. Let them live in pain, wishing for death."
"I accept."
This body's name was Lin Xin, daughter of the late Grand Tutor Lin. Her father had been falsely accused and died disgraced. She had been cast into the Cold Palace, quietly uncovering the truth—that it was Bai Xi who framed her family, with the Emperor's silent approval.
But as a discarded concubine, she could do nothing. And so she gave up her body—to Axin.
In this world, Bai Xi was the female lead. Helian Zheng, the Emperor, the male lead.
And Bai Xi… was a reborn woman bound to a "Favored Concubine System."
In her first life, she had been just another low-ranking concubine, gaining favor only once—bearing a son but dying amidst palace intrigue.
Reborn, she vowed revenge. With the system's help, she met Helian Zheng early, became his obsession, and manipulated him into loving no other woman.
She didn't stop him from filling the harem—she wanted the other women to live like widows.
The first to die was the Empress. The second, Lin Xin, the Grand Tutor's daughter.
And the next was meant to be Ning Zhiqing.
But not this time.
Axin opened her eyes, whispering coldly, "Favored Concubine System, huh? What kind of thing are you?"
Meanwhile, chaos erupted outside.
Hongyan, Bai Xi's chief maid, had been discovered the next morning—half-naked, tangled with two men.
The screams echoed through the courtyard. Eunuchs and maids gathered in horror.
"Hongyan, how dare you!" barked Eunuch Yu, the Emperor's attendant.
Helian Zheng stood with Bai Xi in his arms, her face buried shyly in his chest.
"Your Majesty, Your Grace—it's not what it looks like!" Hongyan cried. "I was framed! Framed by Lin Guiren!"
"Lin Guiren?" Bai Xi's brows arched.
Even Helian Zheng frowned. "Who is this Lin Guiren?"
"Her! Over there—Lin Xin!"
All eyes turned.
From the crowd stepped a frail woman in faded palace robes—thin wrists, pale face, movements gentle as falling willow leaves.
That delicate creature? Frame someone? Impossible.
Ning Zhiqing's heart leapt in panic, but Axin gave her one calm glance—enough to silence her completely.
Axin then looked down at Hongyan—and up at Bai Xi. Her gaze flickered once.
So that voice I heard… was the system.
"I don't know this maid," she said softly.
"You lie!" Hongyan shrieked, lunging forward—only for her flimsy dudou to slip, baring her completely. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Lin Guiren, you framed me!" she screamed hysterically. "Aren't you afraid the ghosts will come for you at night?!"
"Which ghost?" Axin asked quietly. "You?"
Her voice was calm, her face bloodless, her tone hollow.
No one doubted her anymore.
Everyone in the palace knew: people who lived in the Cold Palace too long went mad. They whispered that Lin Guiren was strange—wandering near the well at night, speaking softly to herself.
Now, standing there pale and still, she looked more like a specter than a woman.
No one would believe she had the cunning to frame anyone.
Bai Xi lowered her lashes, feigning sorrow. "Your Majesty, I didn't expect Hongyan to fall so low. I'll accept whatever punishment you decree. It was my failure to guide her properly."
Helian Zheng, softened by her tears, sighed and stroked her hair. "You're too kind, Xi'er. She can't stay."
He raised his voice. "Take her away. Beat her to death."
"Your Majesty! Mercy!" Hongyan screamed—but no words against Bai Xi could leave her mouth. The loyalty seal the system had implanted ensured her silence.
Her cries faded into nothing.
By the time it was over, only blood trailed across the floor.
Ning Zhiqing's hands trembled. If not for Axin, that would have been her.
"Lady Lin," she whispered, voice hoarse, "what should I do? How can I protect my father?"
Axin brushed a strand of hair from her face, leaned close, and whispered at her ear,
"Do you want to be Emperor?"
Ning Zhiqing froze. "W–what?"
Seeing her terrified expression, Axin smiled faintly. "Being Emperor is tiring anyway. Why not just rule from behind the curtain?"
"I'll teach you."
"B–but I don't even have a son," Ning Zhiqing stammered.
Axin's smile deepened. "That," she said, "can be arranged."