Jiang Yuexue remembered the year she turned fifteen. Her father, the Marquis of Yongyi, had held her hands, his aged eyes filled with utmost solemnity: "Xue'er, entering the palace is not like staying at home. Inside those red walls is a place that devours people without spitting out their bones. Be cautious in all things, do not contend, do not fight, and simply guard your own little sphere of heaven and earth." Back then, she had merely thought her father was worrying needlessly, and she had smiled and promised to obey, viewing the inner court as nothing more than a luxurious cage where she could always find a measure of peace as long as she behaved herself.
As the legitimate daughter of the Jiang family, she was born with the gentle disposition typical of the Jiangnan water towns. Her brows needed no painting to look dark, her lips no rouge to look red, and her eyes always brimmed with moisture, carrying the fragile tenderness of unthawed thin ice on an early spring lake. On the day of the imperial selection, she stood quietly in line, neither contending nor fighting, her hair ornaments even plainer than those of the others. Yet, of all people, the gaze of The Emperor, Si Yanjin, happened to fall upon her.
"What is your name?" His voice carried imperial authority, yet possessed an inexplicable gentleness.
Chapter 130