Before the auspicious hour of the late Emperor's funeral procession arrived, Consort Hua rose at the third watch of the night. She sat beneath the moonlight in the courtyard of Yang Palace, sipping wine in solitude. Her loyal maid Ah-Zhi was nowhere to be seen.
Clad in white mourning robes, the consort was fully prepared to accompany the Emperor to the imperial mausoleum—for her fate was to be entombed alive beside him. Soon, eunuchs would come to bind her arms and legs, ensuring she would not escape during the solemn journey to death. Yet despite the looming shadow of the afterlife drawing ever nearer, Consort Hua showed no fear. She drank her wine leisurely, basking in the cold moonlight and biting breeze, her poise undisturbed.
Ah-Zhi, too, had not gone to sleep. It was not restlessness that kept her awake, but the desperate search for a path to escape. Her fate mirrored her mistress's. When Consort Hua was buried, so too would Ah-Zhi be—sent into the afterlife to continue her service beyond the veil of death. Fully aware of this cruel custom, she had begged Her Majesty the Empress for aid. Moved by pity, the Empress Li Hua had granted her a permit to flee, along with a pouch of silver.
But the plan had not unfolded as hoped.
Ah-Zhi could not so easily slip away from Yang Palace tonight. She cast furtive glances toward Consort Hua, who continued to drink with unsettling joy, occasionally playing the pi-pa and singing a mournful ancient tune. "That demon… she's on the brink of death, yet she wears that same serene smile. How can she still be so calm?"
"You're awake, Ah-Zhi," came the consort's voice suddenly, making the maid flinch with fright. She hadn't expected her mistress to be aware of her presence. Dropping to her knees on the cold stone floor, Ah-Zhi trembled—not from the chill, but from dread. "Forgive me, Your Grace... I hadn't realized you'd risen so early."
"Get up," said Consort Hua gently. "The ground is cold. You'll catch your death out here. Come, sit with me."
The softness in her voice only heightened Ah-Zhi's fear. She was not clever, but even she could sense something was amiss. Slowly, she raised her head and met the gaze of a woman whose beauty rivaled that of the goddess Ma Gu—gentle and serene, not a trace of cruelty to be found.
Reluctantly, she obeyed, settling beside Consort Hua with all the outward composure she could muster, though her heart pounded within her chest. A single, inescapable thought circled through her mind: She knows… She must know I've betrayed her.
"Ah-Zhi," the consort began, her voice calm and low, "how long have you served me?"
Ah-Zhi calculated swiftly, then answered with utmost deference. "About seven years, Your Grace."
"A long time indeed," said Consort Hua, her tone touched with melancholy. "It must have been difficult for you… serving someone like me all these years."
"Not at all, Your Grace!" Ah-Zhi dropped once more to her knees. "It is my duty and my honor. I have never found it burdensome."
Consort Hua gazed at her, eyes contemplative. "Ah-Zhi… do you think me the villain everyone says I am?"
Yes, Ah-Zhi screamed within. But she only smiled thinly and lied. "Of course not, Your Grace. I do not believe such slander."
"Good," said the consort with a faint smile. Then she poured wine into a second cup and held it out to the maid. "Here. Drink with me."
"I... I dare not, Your Grace," Ah-Zhi refused immediately—not out of modesty, but fear. Her mind raced: Is there poison in this cup?
"In just a few hours, I'll be gone from this world," Consort Hua said softly. "Let me drink with you one last time before I go."
Still, Ah-Zhi hesitated, unable to accept the cup. Panic clung to her like a second skin. She must know I've betrayed her. She must know!
"Are you afraid, Ah-Zhi?" asked the consort. "Do you think I've poisoned the wine?"
Her question struck like lightning. Ah-Zhi's body trembled violently. "No, no, Your Grace… I simply… I am just a lowly servant. I dare not drink with someone of your noble station."
"You're still afraid of me," Consort Hua whispered. She sighed, placing the untouched cup back on the marble table. Her eyes gleamed with sorrow as she spoke again. "I know I've treated you harshly over the years. You must resent me deeply."
Ah-Zhi said nothing. Her silence was louder than any words.
"I want you to know something, Ah-Zhi… I never wished to harm you. Everything I did… I did out of necessity."
Lies! Ah-Zhi cried inside, barely restraining the urge to spit those words aloud. But she held her tongue, forcing a crooked smile. "I believe you, Your Grace. Truly, I do."
The consort smiled gently. Then she reached into her white mourning robe and retrieved a small envelope, extending it toward the maid. "Take this," she said. "It is a token of my gratitude—for your many years of loyal service."