Shadows of Jealousy
The palace was no longer simply a place of labor for Lianhua—it had become a web, and she was beginning to trace its threads. Whispers traveled faster than footsteps, and envy lingered in every corner. Some servants muttered under their breath about her cleverness; concubines glanced at her with thinly veiled resentment, sensing a presence the Dowager had marked and the Emperor had noticed.
One afternoon, while carrying folded silks through the western wing, Lianhua overheard two concubines whispering.
"She survives the Dowager's scrutiny too easily," one hissed, her fingers twisting the sleeve of her gown. "The Emperor watches her. Do you see what she may become?"
"She is nothing but a servant," the other replied, eyes darting nervously. "But cleverness like hers… it is dangerous. We must watch her carefully."
Lianhua froze, letting their words sink. The palace did not forgive ambition, and jealousy was a weapon sharper than any blade.
Later, in the laundry court, Mei Lin approached her quietly. "The concubines talk," she said. "Some envy, some fear. You must be careful. Jealousy is as poisonous as the Dowager's games."
"I understand," Lianhua said. "But envy can also be used, if one knows how."
Mei Lin nodded, a faint smile appearing. "Exactly. Watch their movements. Learn their desires. Even enemies can become instruments if handled correctly."
That evening, as Lianhua knelt in her quarters, she traced the alliances and jealousies of the palace in her mind. Every glance, every whisper, every smile or frown held meaning. And she began to see the palace not as a place to survive, but as a chessboard, with pawns, knights, and queens moving unseen.
The Queen Mother was the ultimate player. The Emperor watched from the throne. And Lianhua—Shen Lianhua—would learn not only to endure, but to move with purpose.
The shadows of jealousy stretched long across the halls.
And Lianhua vowed to use them all.