Previous
Fiction Page
Next
Font Size:
Chapter 7 – Ambition
After Qingtiao saw off the eunuchs from the Office of Ceremonial Duties, she returned to the western side hall.
Yu Ying was still in a daze. Just one moment before, she had been worrying she’d be beheaded, that her very life was at stake—so how had it turned into an imperial summons to the Emperor’s bed in the very next moment? Exactly which step had she failed to keep up with?
Qingtiao suddenly knelt to the floor with a thump, unable to hide the joy in her voice.
“Congratulations, my lady, congratulations! After three long years, you have finally endured all the bitterness and come to sweet fortune! Allow this servant to help you prepare for the night.”
Yu Ying saw that Qingtiao was truly happy for her. In this harem, any woman ought to feel delighted at the chance to share the Emperor’s bed. She forced herself to press down the turmoil in her heart and simply nodded at Qingtiao.
Lady Concubine An, knowing Yu Ying only had Qingtiao to serve her, worried that one person alone could not manage everything. She sent over two of her own second-rank maids, Bilan and Bishui, to help.
Yu Ying was like a puppet. She was stripped clean and set into the bath barrel, never given any chance to intervene or resist. By the time she could gather her thoughts again, she was already sitting before the bronze mirror.
“Allow this servant Bilan to dress your hair, my lady,” said one of the two maids, the slightly rounder-faced girl.
The bronze mirror of this era was nothing like the clear modern mirrors she was used to; it held a faint, hazy quality. And because she was to serve in the Emperor’s bed, her usually dim side hall was lit with twice the usual candles, brightening the small space until nothing was hidden.
They said beauty was most striking beneath the lamplight.
And Yu Ying, after all, was indeed a beauty. In this moment, she was breathtaking to behold.
The girl in the mirror had a delicate little face, no bigger than a palm. Her skin, pale to the point of unhealthy, looked as if it would bruise at a touch. Curved willow-leaf brows, a dainty, exquisite nose—and beneath it, a soft, enticing mouth, red as if freshly painted. Yet, despite all this, her large eyes were as innocent as a startled doe’s, evoking inexplicable pity. At the outer corner of her right eye, a bright vermilion beauty mark lent this otherwise pure, lotus-like face an unexpected touch of allure.
In the harem at present, most of the women came from the Eight Banners of Manchu and Mongol heritage. Not until Kangxi’s later years would the Han Banner women rise in prominence, showing that the Emperor himself had always favored these softer, delicate looks.
Even among the beauties of Jiangnan, renowned for producing peerless women, this face of Yu Ying’s would be flawless.
It was timing that had favored her—this gentle, graceful, unthreatening beauty was the only one of its kind in the harem.
Bilan, watching this woman in the mirror—still unpainted, yet already radiating a subtle charm with each glance and smile—could not help a pang of rueful wonder.
Such beauty had languished here, unremarked and wasting three years of youth.
Bilan quickly finished arranging her hair. Just as she was about to apply powder and rouge, Yu Ying stopped her.
“This is fine. You all go out now. I’d like to be alone for a while.”
The three maids exchanged looks. In the end, it was Qingtiao who stepped forward to advise gently:
“My lady… the eunuchs from the Office of Ceremonial Duties are already waiting outside. We really shouldn’t keep them too long…”
“I know what I’m doing,” Yu Ying said calmly. “Qingtiao, take Bilan and Bishui out first. Remember to give my thanks to Lady Concubine An. I will come presently.”
Yu Ying refused to listen to further persuasion. Left with no choice, the three of them hesitated for a moment, then finally withdrew.
Inside, Yu Ying was alone.
Expressionless, she stared into the mirror, meeting the eyes of the unfamiliar woman gazing back.
To have transmigrated from modern times to the Qing dynasty, to become an imperial concubine—it wasn’t as humiliating as she might have imagined.
She was only bewildered.
Should she simply go through the motions, be summoned once and then discarded, or should she gamble—fight for favor, struggle among all the other women of the harem to win a place in the Emperor’s heart? To wager that she might seize even a sliver of his true affection?
Historically, Kangxi had been a man of many passions. As a youth, he had loved the Empress Hešeri, companion of his early years. Later, there was Consort Yi, who enjoyed a decade of favor, and Consort De, mother of the next Emperor.
Countless later generations had speculated about which woman Kangxi had truly loved most.
If she were to gamble—how could she ever hope to stand out among them?
Knock, knock—
It was Qingtiao, urging her again.
Enough.
One step at a time.
At worst, it would simply be history repeating itself.
Recalling the turmoil and decline of China in the years to come, a spark of ambition flared in Yu Ying’s heart.
If she could truly win the Emperor’s favor—if she could borrow Kangxi’s hand—perhaps she might change the course of Chinese history.
Even the tiniest change would make this second life worthwhile.
A single spark could set the prairie ablaze.
No need to rush.
Yu Ying, she told herself, everything must be done slowly and carefully.
At least she still possessed this face that could make heads turn, didn’t she?
There would be time.
Having sorted through her thoughts, Yu Ying finally smiled at her reflection in the bronze mirror.
Her eyes shone like stars, and in that moment, a hundred flowers seemed to pale in comparison.
Yu Ying rose, pushed open the palace doors, and step by step walked toward that unknown future.
“Qingtiao—let’s go.”
Previous
Fiction Page
Next
Miumi[Translator]
💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 I’ll try to release 2 or more chapters daily and unlock 2 chapters every Sunday. Support me at https://ko-fi.com/miumisakura For any questions or concerns, DM me on Discord at psychereader.