Chapter 1588: Pure Consort Zhou at Death's Door

Mid-Autumn Festival had just passed, and the festive afterglow of the grand Mid-Autumn imperial banquet held at Chongyuan Hall had yet to fade, yet Shulan Hall within the Bian Palace was immersed in a grave and oppressive atmosphere—Pure Consort Zhou was critically ill.

Ignoring the palace maids who bowed in fearful trepidation, he went straight toward Shulan Hall, but before stepping into the bedchamber, he subconsciously halted his steps, his brows slightly furrowing—an expression of hesitation.

Of course, Emperor Liu's gloomy countenance betrayed his current mood. This was Emperor Liu's first time setting foot in Shulan Hall in over a year. In fact, if one stretched the timeframe further, within the past decade, Emperor Liu had rarely visited, and his neglect of Pure Consort Zhou was evident from this.

Twenty years ago, Pure Consort Zhou, with her equal talents and beauty, her orchid-like heart and pure spirit, had once enjoyed great favor. The affection she received from Emperor Liu had once approached that of the Empress, the Noble Consort, and the Worthy Consort. In those days, Emperor Liu loved listening to Pure Consort Zhou play the zither and watching her dance. At the height of her favor, she could even lead the dance at the imperial banquet celebrating the pacification of the south.

Because of Pure Consort Zhou's favored status, Emperor Liu also showed exceptional affection toward her children, the Seventh Prince Liu Hui and the Fifth Princess Liu Xuan. Among the princes of varied backgrounds, the reason Liu Hui dared to clash head-on with the Ninth Prince Liu Shu, who had the Fu family as his backing, was in part due to the Pure Consort's favored position.

As for the Zhou clan, they benefited greatly from her good fortune. The late old State Father Zhou Zong, who had rendered not a single merit of service to the court, was nonetheless enfeoffed as a first-rank Marquis of Haiyang during the meritorious title deliberations in the early years of Kaibao.

Although with Zhou Zong's death, the title was taken back according to the court's system of noble titles and merits, who would dare not regard the Zhou family as part of the honored nobility?

Yet the facts proved that Emperor Liu's favor was always limited and reserved. That series of past favors had also forever remained in the old days.

The trouble still originated with Little Zhou. Taking Little Zhou as a Worthy Consort was, to be sure, largely to cater to certain readers, but toward this beautiful and spirited younger sister-in-law, Emperor Liu genuinely harbored affection, while also seeking to satisfy that suppressed curiosity in his heart.

But Emperor Liu could not understand how Pure Consort Zhou's mind worked—she was so dissatisfied, so angry, that she even dared to glare at Emperor Liu with cold, reproachful eyes.

How could Emperor Liu indulge such behavior? Over all these years, Emperor Liu considered himself quite restrained in matters of women. To this day, fewer than twenty consorts and palace ladies in his harem had received his favor. For an emperor who possessed three thousand beauties at his beck and call, this already counted as being pure of heart and sparing of desire—especially in recent years, due to his health.

And in Emperor Liu's harem, even Empress Fu had been arranged for him by Gaozu Liu Zhiyuan. As for the other consorts, they were either political marriages or tributes from outer vassals and ministers—most of the empresses and consorts had been sent to his imperial bed by others.

Emperor Liu had only actively pursued women on his own three times: the two consorts Xu and Li of Meng Chang, the surrendered ruler of the Later Shu, and then Little Zhou Consort—and Little Zhou Consort was the one Emperor Liu had devoted the most effort to.

Yet his rare initiative had provoked strong dissatisfaction from Shulan Hall. Emperor Liu naturally felt quite displeased, even bewildered. He did not understand what the problem was—sisters serving the same sovereign side by side, able to look after each other within the palace and benefit the Zhou clan even more outside it.

But Pure Consort Zhou's nearly obsessive, tearful behavior truly annoyed Emperor Liu. He only felt that she had read too many books, read herself stupid, read herself pedantic.

In antiquity there was the story of Ehuang and Nüying, and in the current dynasty there were the two Fus. If one spoke of learning, the Empress had read no fewer books than the Pure Consort—she had no objections, so why was a Pure Consort making such a fuss?

Under such a mindset, the Pure Consort's loss of favor was inevitable. The more unwilling she was, the more Emperor Liu doted on Little Zhou. He had been defied like this, and in his private life no less.

Of course, anger was anger—toward Pure Consort Zhou, Emperor Liu merely showed coldness, never casting her entirely into the cold palace. The reasons were reversed: first, because of their son and daughter; second, because Little Zhou Consort frequently interceded and consoled him on her behalf.

After so many years, the original resentment had long since dissipated, and Emperor Liu's heart had also let go, yet it was difficult to return to the "harmonious duet of zither and se" of those days. If Pure Consort Zhou could have changed her ways, yielded and accommodated a little, she might have regained favor—but she did not.

Relationships need maintenance, and over the years, that past affection had naturally grown cold and blurred, becoming merely a memory.

Pure Consort Zhou's health had also deteriorated step by step over these years. The imperial physicians could not cure her; in their words, it was an illness of the heart, and the medicine for the heart was harder to find than any precious medicinal herb in the world.

Emperor Liu had occasionally heard that Pure Consort Zhou was unwell, and had only blandly instructed that she should be treated if ill. A scant two or three times, unable to resist Little Zhou Consort's pleas, he had gone to visit, but only as a perfunctory gesture, with an attitude of token charity.

By now, the woman Pure Consort Zhou had become somewhat a stranger to Emperor Liu. Even at the Mid-Autumn imperial banquet at Chongyuan Hall a few days prior, Pure Consort Zhou had not attended due to her health, and Emperor Liu had not even noticed that someone was missing.

But when he heard that Pure Consort Zhou was gravely ill, at death's door, Emperor Liu still moved those reluctant legs and came to Shulan Hall.

At this moment, separated by a beaded curtain—the Pure Consort lying within, Emperor Liu standing without—a hundred mixed feelings inexplicably surged in Emperor Liu's heart. This final step seemed somewhat hard to take.

Recalling the Pure Consort's appearance in his mind, that originally somewhat blurred impression gradually became clear. The once-lovely smiles and frowns kept surfacing in his thoughts, yet his heart felt so heavy that he could hardly lift his feet.

Within the bedchamber, an atmosphere of sorrow already pervaded. Empress Fu had arrived earlier than Emperor Liu and sat to one side sighing. Little Zhou Consort sat at the edge of the bed, her face full of concern. The Fifth Princess Liu Xuan also knelt by the bed, tears streaming, tightly clutching the Pure Consort's pale, feeble hand. As for the Pure Consort herself, she was at death's door; her once-beautiful countenance showed not a trace of color, pitiful to behold.

There was also an imperial physician standing to one side, flustered and anxious, his face full of worry, tinged with a deep fear.

After hesitating a moment, Emperor Liu lifted the curtain and stepped inside with light footsteps. Emperor Liu's bright yellow robes were iconic and eye-catching. Empress Fu had already noticed him from the corner of her eye, and seeing him enter, she rose to bow.

Emperor Liu's mood made him care nothing for court etiquette at the moment. He waved his hand, looked at the Pure Consort on the bed, and asked softly: "How is the Pure Consort?"

It was almost a pointless question, but the imperial physician could hardly answer with nonsense. He stammered, at a loss, not knowing how to respond. But from his demeanor, how could Emperor Liu not know the situation?

A faint smell of medicine lingered in the air. Following the scent, he saw a small bowl of medicinal broth quietly placed by the bed, still emitting a wisp of steam.

"Father!" The Fifth Princess Liu Xuan could not hold back her tears. Looking at Emperor Liu, moved by emotion, she wanted to throw herself into his arms but forcibly stopped the motion.

As she had grown older and gradually come to understand things, through what she had seen and heard, Liu Xuan had long realized that the man before her was no longer the affable, loving father of her childhood who would hold her and watch her mother dance. That towering, mountain-like support had all but vanished, replaced by the awe and reverence that the sheer height of a solitary peak inspires.

Liu Xuan was nearly fifteen, her height reaching Emperor Liu's chin. She had inherited her mother's beauty and elegance, still so quiet and well-behaved—yet this tearful, hesitant appearance of hers was truly pitiable.

"All of you, leave for now. I'll stay with the Pure Consort for a while!" Emperor Liu sighed softly, affectionately stroking Liu Xuan's hair bun, and gave the order.

When Emperor Liu spoke, no one dared disobey. Everyone bowed in turn and filed out. The imperial physician, in particular, looked as if pardoned from a death sentence, his forehead and back drenched in cold sweat as he left.

Soon, only Emperor Liu and the Pure Consort remained by the sickbed. The Pure Consort was at death's door, her consciousness already hazy, but Emperor Liu's arrival seemed to rouse her last strength. She opened those eyes that were no longer captivating and gazed at Emperor Liu. From that gaze, Emperor Liu seemed to read resentment, read hope, and read agitation.

Emperor Liu sat down by the bed, meeting the Pure Consort's gaze. His eyes were no longer as cold as before, his expression no longer stiff. After so many years, he once again took the Pure Consort's hand.

Those once-delicate jade hands, under the torment of illness, had long since withered to bone. Her once-moving countenance now showed every sign of sickness, and under the erosion of years, her youthful beauty was gone.

Her hand was very cold—through that brief contact, the chill nearly reached Emperor Liu's heart. The Pure Consort could barely speak now, communicating with Emperor Liu only with difficulty through her eyes.

Emperor Liu seemed to understand what she wanted to say, yet also seemed to understand nothing at all. He did his best to warm the Pure Consort with both his hands, but it seemed somewhat too late.

After a long silence, Emperor Liu said in a low voice: "All these years, I have wronged you."

The words were simple, but the emotion was full. The guilt swirling in Emperor Liu's eyes nearly overflowed. And seeing Emperor Liu, always so domineering, "admit his fault" before her, a hint of color suddenly returned to the Pure Consort's pale face. Her eyes glistened, gradually turning into two streams of hot tears that slowly slid down her cheeks.

Seeing this, Emperor Liu said nothing more, only reaching out to gently wipe away her tears. Who knew how many years it had been since Emperor Liu had treated the Pure Consort with such tenderness.

The atmosphere in the bedchamber shifted subtly. Emperor Liu said little, only quietly accompanying the Pure Consort, seeing her through this brief final stretch of her life, until the bowl of medicinal broth by the sickbed no longer steamed...