The Empress Dowager's retaliation came faster than anyone expected.
And far crueler.
Three days after the confrontation in the Bureau of Provisions, just as the morning court adjourned, an edict swept into the Inner Palace like a silent blade.
"Qing Tian, Director of Provisions, is of lowly birth.Obstinate in conduct.She dared meddle with sacred offerings and disrupt palace order.By this decree: demoted to Rank Seven.Stripped of administrative authority.Confined for self-reflection."
No accusation.
No trial.
No crime.
Only one verdict—
You do not belong here.
This was not punishment.
This was lineage.
Blood.
Origin.
A single stroke designed to knock her from the table of power.
The Harem Erupts
Shock rippled through the Six Palaces.
Some sighed in relief.
Some watched with cold amusement.
Some quietly recalculated their loyalties.
Because in the palace, rank was survival.
And survival was always negotiable.
Bureau of Provisions
Qing Tian knelt to receive the decree.
Her expression did not change.
Not a flicker.
Not a crease.
Even the eunuch delivering the edict hesitated, eyes lingering on her composed face.
"…Director Qing," he asked carefully, "do you have any objection?"
Qing Tian lowered her head.
Her voice was calm.
"I accept the decree."
After he left,
the Bureau fell into suffocating silence.
Chun Tao's eyes burned red.
"This isn't justice," she whispered. "They're crushing you because of your birth!"
Qing Tian rose slowly.
"Yes."
A pause.
"Which means…"
Her gaze sharpened.
"They're afraid."
First Night of Confinement
Qing Tian did not sleep.
She sat beneath the dim lamplight, turning the brittle pages of an old, yellowed register—one no one had wanted, one long forgotten in the Bureau's archives.
These records did not name favored consorts.
They named the Cold Palace.
She stopped at a single entry.
Softly, she spoke a name:
"Rong Consort."
The silent one.
The woman who had sat through the tribunal and never uttered a word.
Day Two — A Rumor Spreads
It began as a whisper.
Then a murmur.
Then a tremor beneath the palace floors.
Cold Palace accounts… to be reexamined.
No imperial order.
No formal decree.
Yet the Department of Internal Affairs dispatched investigators.
Because the request did not come from politics.
It came from the Bureau of Provisions—
which governed everything that entered a mouth.
Rong Consort's Palace
A teacup shattered from her trembling hand.
"Who initiated this?!"
Her chief maid's voice shook.
"Your Highness… the Bureau submitted archived records. They claim… irregularities in Cold Palace rations."
Rong Consort's blood turned to ice.
Memory struck like lightning.
The year she fell from favor.
The year she was banished to the Cold Palace.
And the grain allocated to that desolate prison—
had come from the Empress Dowager's Buddhist Hall supply channels.
She had believed those accounts buried forever.
She had forgotten one truth.
Food records never die.
Night Three — Empress Dowager's Palace
Lanterns blazed through the darkness.
Rong Consort knelt, forehead bruised red from repeated kowtows.
"Your Majesty… I knew nothing… the rations were issued according to regulation…"
The Empress Dowager watched her.
Unblinking.
Then—
she smiled.
"According to regulation?"
Her voice was gentle.
Deadly.
"Do you know…"
"How many died in the Cold Palace that year?"
Rong Consort's body trembled violently.
Understanding dawned in horror.
This was not an audit.
This was a search—
for a scapegoat.
That Same Night — Qing Tian's Chambers
A small paper parcel arrived.
Inside—
a jade pendant.
Cracked clean through.
Qing Tian recognized it instantly.
Rong Consort's most treasured possession from her Cold Palace years.
Beneath it, a trembling note:
"If I fall…the accounts will not be turned against you."
Qing Tian closed the parcel.
Her eyes were cold.
Calculating.
Unmoved.
She did not save Rong Consort.
She merely—
placed the blade into the Empress Dowager's hand.
And the Empress Dowager had no choice but to wield it.
The Next Morning
A new decree thundered across the harem:
"Rong Consort failed in palace discipline.Past accounts reveal negligence.Demoted.Relocated from principal residence."
Qing Tian's name was absent.
Yet everyone understood.
The Empress Dowager had preserved her dignity.
Qing Tian—
had preserved her life.
Deeper Within the Palace
In the Hall of Mental Cultivation,
the Emperor studied both decrees.
His fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
he smiled.
"So…"
"…she's learned."
Gao Dequan bowed.
"Your Majesty refers to?"
The Emperor's gaze darkened with unmistakable approval.
"Borrowing blades."
A pause.
"And borrowing the one even I cannot openly lend."
Because Qing Tian had done something extraordinary.
She had survived noble blood—
not by resisting it.
But by turning its weight
against itself.