Caught and exposed, Yue's fate hangs by a thread—until a familiar voice turns the tide. But why would the Emperor lie for her?
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Yue's mind went completely blank as she faced the sharp gaze of the Dowager Empress.
The opulent room, with its golden walls and sweet scents, seemed to press in on her and made her feel trapped.
A strong wave of regret washed over her, cold and overwhelming.
She wished she had left when she had the chance—quietly slipped away into the shadows, back to the peace of her own room.
Why did she stay? What made her think she could succeed in this?
She realized it was foolish and daring.
Now, every second was precious.
Every word she spoke was crucial.
She had to think quickly. One wrong word could lead to her being taken away in chains, or even something worse.
Yue pushed her hands harder against the cold marble floor, trying to steady her racing thoughts and calm herself down.
The Dowager Empress looked stern and cold, with each line on her face hard like stone.
Her eyes were narrow and suspicious, and her voice was strong and powerful, echoing through the entire room.
"Seize her!" she commanded.
Her words were sharp and final, like a falling guillotine.
Panic rose inside Yue like a wave that couldn't be stopped.
Was this how it would end for her? Would they take her away before she had the chance to explain what was happening?
Yue's hands lay flat on the cold ground, and she began to shake. Her shoulders tightened with fear as she braced herself for the guards' grasp.
Then, suddenly— A new voice spoke, clear and forceful, like a sharp knife cutting through silence.
"That will not be necessary."
It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
Everything stopped.
The guards froze mid-step. The air shifted. Even the flames in the lanterns seemed to still.
The large sandalwood doors at the far end had opened unexpectedly, revealing a tall, imposing figure entering the room.
It was the Emperor.
His presence stirred the room like a storm disturbs a sleeping lake—quiet, powerful, unstoppable.
He didn't hurry, yet his walk carried authority.
His eyes swept across the room, sharp and mysterious, like a hidden blade.
The Emperor stopped in front of Yue, his shadow covering her like a curtain.
She didn't dare look up. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears.
He gazed down at her briefly, his eyes were calm and unreadable
Then he turned to face his mother.
"She is not an imposter," he finally spoke, his voice clear and assertive.
"She is my concubine."
A profound silence fell over the chamber. Everyone was still, the air thick with shock. Servants, guards, and maids stood silent, as if even the walls were holding their breath.
The Dowager Empress's brow slowly lifted, like a sword being drawn.
"Concubine?"
"She was recently appointed as Second-Rank Attendant Yue," the Emperor replied, his voice calm and unwavering.
"It was I who ordered her to cook for you tonight."
Yue's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes widened in surprise. Had she heard that correctly?
The Emperor—the Emperor—had come to her defense?
"You ordered her?" the Dowager Empress asked, her tone sharp and laced with cold incredulity.
Her gaze sliced toward her son.
"You, the Son of Heaven, sent a concubine to prepare supper in secret—dressed as a common servant?"
The Emperor remained unfazed, "She is talented in cooking, but more importantly, she is thoughtful. I hoped she could prepare a comforting meal for you."
The room fell silent. The tension was palpable.
The Dowager Empress was quiet at first. She tapped her fingers on the bowl and looked back at Yue, who was kneeling on the cold floor, trying to stay still even though her hands trembled slightly.
Slowly, she turned her attention back to her son. Her voice was cold,
"Then explain this to me. If she truly is a concubine, why is she dressed like a kitchen maid?"
Yue took a deep breath to steady herself.
Her heart raced, but she stood firm under the Empress's intense gaze. She bowed and then raised her head, speaking clearly,
"Your Grace, before serving His Majesty, I was Consort Shu's handmaid. During her illness, I often cooked for her."
"These simple clothes are practical for kitchen work. Wearing silk and jewelry while cooking would only get in the way. I thought serving you well was more important than how I looked."
Silence gripped the room.
The Dowager Empress studied Yue closely—her flushed cheeks, her dignified posture, and her genuine words.
After a moment, her frosty expression began to soften. Her lips moved slightly, showing something gentler than a smile.
Her sharp eyes assessed Yue again, taking in her delicate features, the steadiness of her voice, and the humility in her posture.
"You are quite lovely," the Dowager murmured, her voice a low thread of thought, as if speaking more to herself than the room. "And well-spoken."
Her fingertips traced the rim of the porcelain bowl, slow and absent, like a painter brushing the edge of a canvas.
The light gleamed against the curve of her lacquered nails.
"It's rare these days to find a girl who chooses function over vanity," she said, her tone thoughtful now.
"Even rarer to find one who understands that food is not just sustenance."
Yue remained kneeling, barely daring to move. But inside, her heart fluttered like wings against a cage.
The Dowager Empress glanced toward her son then, her dark eyes sharp but unreadable.
There was a flicker—almost amusement, almost pride. "And you… you still know how to surprise your mother."
The thick, unspoken tension in the room began to dissolve, little by little, like ice melting in warm tea. Servants slowly lifted their eyes; the guards' shoulders eased.
Then the Dowager turned fully back to Yue, her silk sleeves whispering against the embroidered couch as she leaned forward, her presence suddenly weightier, more commanding.
"Very well," she said. Her voice was cool but clear. "Since you've proven capable of more than just pretty words, I shall entrust you with something important."
Yue lifted her gaze, cautiously.
"My birthday banquet is coming up next month," the Dowager continued. "I want you to oversee the preparations."
A collective gasp rippled through the room like a dropped stone in water.
Even the eunuch standing nearby faltered, blinking in disbelief.
The Emperor's brows rose, not in alarm—but in the barest flicker of intrigue.
The birthday banquet was no simple task. It was an event of grandeur and ceremony—attended by every noble in the empire, a stage of power, politics, and prestige. Entrusting such a task to a newly appointed concubine was unheard of.
But the Dowager Empress was not finished.
"I want a meal that brings warmth to the bones and lightness to the spirit," she said. Impress me—and you shall be rewarded."
Her eyes met Yue's again, piercing and expectant.
"Your Grace?" Yue asked, clearly surprised.
The Dowager responded in a firm voice, her eyes fixed on her.
"You can choose people to help you, but you will be the one responsible for how everything tastes and looks in the end."
Her voice softened slightly, though it still held a strong tone. "Do not let me down."
Yue bowed her head once more, managing to keep her voice calm even though her heart was racing.
"Yes, Your Grace. I will do my best."
The Dowager Empress settled back into her comfortable cushions, appearing satisfied, and the tension in the room eased.
Yue kept her head but she heard the quiet footsteps of the guards leaving and the soft sighs of relief from the servants.
Then the Emperor's voice broke the calm, firm yet controlled. "One more thing," he said, slightly turning his head.
"Where is the maid who was originally assigned to serve at tonight's supper?"
Fear rippled through the kitchen staff.
A servant hurried forward, kneeling with her forehead to the floor.
"Your Majesty, she is outside the chamber, waiting."
"Bring her in."
The doors opened, and a young maid was brought inside, trembling with fear.
She knelt, her face ashen.
"You were responsible for the Dowager Empress's well-being.
Instead, you are incompetent in your duty, nearly causing upset and almost having my concubine dragged out in chains."
The maid's eyes widened with terror, and she began to sob, hands clasped in front of her.
"Please, Your Majesty, forgive me—I did not realize it would be so serious—I never intended—"
The Emperor raised a hand. The guards immediately stepped forward.
"Ten lashes. Strip her title and assign her to the outer laundry. If she fails there, she returns to the streets she came from."
The maid screamed, begging for mercy, but the guards seized her and took her out of the room.
Her cries faded as the doors shut behind her.
Silence returned. The Emperor, maintaining his composure, turned to the Dowager Empress.
"You deserve better, Mother. I shall arrange for more competent maids to serve you."
The Dowager studied him for a moment, then nodded approvingly.
Yue glanced up just in time to catch Emperor Li Zhao's brief glance in her direction.
At a gesture from the head eunuch, two attendants stepped forward.
"You may return to your quarters," the Dowager said to Yue, her gaze steady.
"Rest. You will need it."
Yue bowed again, her heart still pounding, as she was gently escorted out.
As she left, the last words she heard were the Emperor's quiet command:
"Have her come to my study tomorrow morning. I wish to speak with her."