The winter that year was a rare scene of serenity, as if echoing *Tanxiang's exhausted soul. Due to a bout of cold wiping out it's inhabitants the autumn before, the courtyard before her was silent as a tomb.
And a tomb it shall become for me, soon enough. Tanxiang echoed, her weathered features twisting in agony as she doubled over with yet another fit of hacking coughs.
It had been seven months ago, when the palace guards burnt the last corpse, she realized that she had the cold as well. What an experience to remember, watching her fellow exiles withering away before her eyes, only to find out that she too, would join them in eternal rest.
Her gaze swept over the courtyard. The ground was blanketed with a glimmering veil of silvery white. Here and there were remains of crumbling stone sculptures or smashed ceramic tanks that would've been filled with water in case of a fire. In the very middle of the courtyard stood a lone plum tree, so gnarled and withered it seemed to stretch out to claw at the steel grey sky.
Serenely quiet, yet strangely beautiful. Just like the garden back home that evening, in the spring before she entered the bloodstained luxury of the imperial harem.
The scraping of metal bolts roused her from her reverie, followed by the muffled crunching of footsteps coming closer to the pavilion. At last. Tanxiang thought, her cracked lips twisting into a faint smirk.
From what she recalled listening to the chatter of the maids outside the locked palace gates, it was the winter solstice today. As with tradition, a grand banquet with the attendance of the high ranking noble families was to be held in the Hall of Supreme Principle (太极殿 tài jí diàn). It must be quite the spectacle, even more so with the Empress having birthed yet another imperial prince.
It was a time of festive celebration with family and friends to welcome the new year. A time of happiness and merriment. A time when nobody would care for the fate of a disgraced concubine trapped in the Cold Palace.
Well, all but one person, that is.
'So... you're here.' Tanxiang murmured. Snow was falling, sparkling white specks that melted in her outstretched hands.
'Impudence!' A shrill, annoyingly mousy voice screeched. 'How dare-'
'It's fine, Qi'er. I have no interest in the dying struggles of a demon.' A melodic female voice sounded out. A voice extremely familiar to Tanxiang, the same voice that sentenced her to the despair of the Cold Palace five years ago.
'Who would've thought Her Highness would come to see the final breaths of a deposed concubine in the Cold Palace?' Tanxiang stood, slowly turning around to face the intruder of her peace.
**Bai Lian Fang.
No. This woman was not her Lian'er. This was ***Chúnquè huáng guì fēi . The woman who stepped upon countless corpses to rise up second in power only to the Empress in the back palace, and the worst mistake of her short, miserable life.
'I see the years have treated you well.' Tanxiang chuckled, pressing a handkerchief to her mouth as the effort forced yet another burst of ferocious coughs that shook her frail body. The silk came away with a splotch of dark red, its crimson blackness staining the faded embroidery.
'Yes, of course. His Majesty treats me most kindly.' Lianfang smiled, running her bejeweled fingers over her slightly raised belly. 'Such is the reward of the virtuous consort who exposed the demon that plagued our glorious nation, thus protecting her dearest husband from danger.'
The sight of Lianfang's pregnancy made Tanxiang's blood roil. The memory of her crying babe was still fresh in her mind. It seemed only yesterday when she looked down into the innocent eyes of her son. Her pride and joy. And now...
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Reincarnated as A Concubine
General Fiction(UPDATES INTERMITTENTLY) A regular guy gets reincarnated into a palace intrigue novel that he's been reading as a background character. Yes, you've heard it right. Man to woman transition. Introducing Imperial Noble Concubine Ning, mother of a who...
