It was already the twelfth year of the Taikang era.
"Careful, Your Grace."
Li Qing supported Consort Qi gently as they strolled through the Cold Palace courtyard.
It had been three years since Consort Qi was sent here a second time. Her cheeks were rosy and her complexion healthy. Clearly, she was doing just fine.
And her good days were right around the corner.
Three years ago, the Grand Empress Dowager had fractured a bone in a fall. Though she still held on to her power, her health had been in steady decline ever since.
The elderly don't recover easily from falls.
At first, the Grand Empress Dowager had still received officials on a strict daily schedule. Then it had been once every three days. Now, it's once every two weeks at best.
Rumor had it she was on the verge of passing. Any day now.
Once she died, Emperor Taikang would take full control of the court. Consort Qi would be free to leave the Cold Palace and reunite with the Crown Prince.
There was even a chance she'd be named empress. The emperor was in his thirties, yet had never appointed one.
He could have, of course. But the only candidate allowed would've been a puppet handpicked by the Grand Empress Dowager. Better to have no empress at all.
So the emperor and Consort Qi were both waiting for the Grand Empress Dowager to die.
And so was Li Qing.
Only then could he begin practicing the Seven Forms of Flowing Water, a martial technique famously used by Ming Wei in her attempt to assassinate the Grand Empress Dowager. As long as the old woman lived, he didn't dare train in it.
Preparations for her funeral were already complete. Unfortunately, as a eunuch stationed in the Cold Palace, he wouldn't even get a spot at the feast.
Twelfth year of Taikang. Guimao Month. Gengchen Day.
Auspicious for: burial, offerings, encoffining, moving the coffin, and sealing the grave. Avoid all else.
At the second quarter of the Goat Hour, a sudden wail rose from the direction of Cining Palace. Ministers, eunuchs, and palace maids cried out together:
"The Grand Empress Dowager… the Grand Empress Dowager… the Grand Empress Dowager…"
The sound spread from Cining Palace through all three main palaces and six courtyards, echoed across the Hall of Mental Cultivation, and finally reached the Cold Palace.
Li Qing immediately brought out the lunch he'd skipped on purpose and laid out twelve dishes. He dug in, taking big, hearty bites.
"Today's food is incredible. The imperial kitchen's eunuchs really outdid themselves."
"The Grand Empress Dowager just died. How can you still eat like this?" Zhang Yong stared at him, confused, as he reached over to grab a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth.
Li Qing gave a quiet smile. If he had the chance, he would've played the suona and the erhu right in front of the Grand Empress Dowager's coffin; never mind just having a good meal.
He finished the food quickly and let out a satisfied burp.
So good.
Too bad he couldn't share it with Consort Ming. That would've made it perfect.
People just need to outlast each other. No need to lift a finger. The other side will fall on their own.
He stepped out of the duty room. The Cold Palace was already full of wailing.
Ji-Mao Wing.
"Grand Empress Dowager!" Consort Chu sobbed uncontrollably, her face a mess of snot and tears. She had been part of the Grand Empress Dowager's faction. Now that the old woman was gone, her entire world had collapsed.
Five years ago, Consort Chu had kicked Li Qing square in the backside. She'd gotten out of the Cold Palace for a while, only to be sent back again last year, making this her second round.
Maybe, it was finally time for Li Qing to settle that score.
Bing-Hai Wing.
"Mm… mm…" Consort Qi wept softly, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a bit of spit. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hide the smile creeping across her face.
Wu-You Wing.
"She's dead? Good riddance. Never thought that old witch would die before me." This was a consort who'd stayed entirely out of the power struggles. No matter who was in charge, she had no plans to leave the Cold Palace.
Li Qing carefully made his way to a quiet corner of the Cold Palace garden. He dug into the soil with his hands and pulled out a small box that had been hidden for seven years.
Time flies like a horse galloping past. In the blink of an eye, seven years have gone by. I'm twenty-three already.
But it's fine. I've got lifetimes ahead of me. Time is my greatest asset. I can afford to wait.
Starting tonight, I begin training the Seven Forms of Flowing Water.
With the death of the Grand Empress Dowager, the nation was to observe a twenty-seven-day mourning period.
Banquets and feasting were prohibited during this time, though a vegetarian diet wasn't required.
In the Cold Palace, meals continued as usual.
Once night fell, the Cold Palace turned quiet. The usual games of chess and cards had vanished without a trace.
In one corner of the sleeping quarters, Li Qing had sectioned off a small separate room. Inside stood a wooden tub, filled to the brim with water and as tall as a person.
The tub was for practicing the Seven Forms of Flowing Water.
The essence of the technique lay in turning the soft force of water into internal strength. It consisted of seven "silken forms," each a unique posture. Li Qing had to pose within the water, assume each form precisely, and activate the inner method. Over time, this would allow him to convert the softness of water into real inner power.
"Xiao Li," said Wang Li, eyeing the tub with confusion, "let's be honest, the lot of us stuck in the Cold Palace have zero martial talent. No future in cultivation. The eunuchs in the Martial Supervision Bureau train one year and outpace us by three."
Seven years had gone by. Wang Li, the oldest among them, was now forty-five, and his age was starting to show.
"I'm not in a rush," replied Li Qing as he slowly undressed, getting ready to step into the water. "Martial arts aren't just for fighting and killing. They're good for the body. I'm weak. I just want to live a little longer."
"Suit yourself," Wang Li muttered, shaking his head as he left.
The other eunuchs gave the setup a quick glance, but no one was particularly interested. They turned in and went straight to sleep.
As for the origin of Li Qing's martial technique, no one asked. They knew better. Most assumed he'd gotten it from Consort Qi; she'd always held him in high regard.
Li Qing had actually registered his intention to practice martial arts with the Martial Supervision Bureau three years ago. For the required form, he casually filled in Yin Water Technique as his chosen technique.
In the palace, eunuchs only needed to report their cultivation progress when they achieved a breakthrough. No one cared much about the technique itself.
The reason Li Qing hadn't practiced the Seven Forms of Flowing Water earlier wasn't because he feared the Martial Supervision Bureau. It was because he feared the Grand Empress Dowager.
There were likely people in her inner circle who still remembered the technique Ming Wei once used. But now that the Grand Empress Dowager was dead, her people had scattered like monkeys from a fallen tree. No one would bother digging up the past.
As for the emperor, even if he realized Li Qing was training in Ming Wei's technique, he wouldn't care. If anything, it might stir some old memories.
Now, Li Qing could train without worry.
He stepped into the water-filled tub, assumed the first silken form, and activated the inner method. The water began to swirl gently around his body.
After two weeks of intense training, he finally condensed his first thread of internal water energy.
So this is my aptitude…
Ming Wei said that for those practicing the Seven Forms of Flowing Water, it's normal for an average person to condense a strand of internal energy every five days. Someone with talent might manage one every three days, while a prodigy could do it in just one day.
Generally speaking, someone with talent could open a single meridian channel in a year of focused training.
By that measure, it took about a hundred threads of internal energy to open one channel.
Li Qing did the math. If he wanted to open a single meridian and become a third-rank fighter, it would take him five years.
Only five years? That's not bad at all.
Opening six meridians would make him a second-rank fighter; that was just thirty years.
Fully opening all twelve would put him at first rank... sixty years.
There's something to look forward to now.
...
Time crept steadily toward the end of the mourning period.
On the twenty-seventh night of mourning for the Grand Empress Dowager....
Cold Palace, Bing-Hai wing.
"Your Grace, your makeup is done. When His Majesty sees you, he'll surely be delighted," said the maid Mingyue, carefully applying the final touches to Consort Qi's face.
The mourning period officially ended at dusk. As soon as the emperor was released from mourning, everyone expected him to summon Consort Qi from the Cold Palace at once.
She had been pregnant when she was sent here the second time, so she'd been given special permission to keep her personal maid, Mingyue, by her side.
"My son is three years old now, and I haven't even seen his face," Consort Qi said softly, her voice tinged with sorrow.
"You'll see him soon," replied Mingyue with a smile.
"Yes," Consort Qi murmured, studying her reflection carefully in the bronze mirror, anxious that not a single detail of her appearance be out of place.
But...
From dusk to midnight, she waited.
And still, no imperial decree came from Emperor Taikang.
Then, just after midnight, a sudden, deafening explosion echoed from the direction of the Hall of Mental Cultivation. The blast shook the entire palace.
"Protect His Majesty!"
"Protect His Majesty!"
Chaos erupted at once. Squads of guards poured out from every palace gate. The eunuchs from the Martial Supervision Bureau were all mobilized.
"Open the gate! Open up! Let me in, now!"
Outside the Cold Palace, loud, frantic knocking echoed through the heavy doors.
Eunuchs like Wang Li were jolted awake. Li Qing, too, was shaken from his training by the noise and confusion spreading through the night.
Everyone looked at one another in shock.
"What's going on?"
"No idea."
"I think that's Chief Steward Gu knocking on the Cold Palace gate."
Chief Steward Gu, a seventh-rank official and the real authority over the Cold Palace eunuchs. He rarely came in person, usually sending orders through the head eunuch.
Something serious was happening.