The moment Chef Zhang was taken away, the sky over the Imperial Kitchen didn't tilt.
It shattered.
Not with thunder or flame—but with a soundless collapse that crushed everything beneath it.
The Punishment Bureau.
Just hearing those words was enough to make most people in the palace go weak in the knees.
It was not merely a prison. It was a place designed to erase people. You went in alive—and if you ever came out, you were no longer whole. Bodies were broken there. Voices were lost there. Some souls never returned at all.
Chef Zhang's charge was announced swiftly and cleanly:
"Failure of supervision resulting in contamination of imperial food."
Not treason.Not poisoning.
But impurity.
Food deemed unclean, served before the Empress Dowager and Consort Liu.
That alone was enough to kill him.
No trial was necessary. No defense would be heard.
The sentence had already been written the moment Consort Liu's spoon struck the bowl.
Li Dehai was summoned for questioning that very same day.
When he returned, it was as though someone had scooped the life out of him.
His face was colorless—ashen, gray, empty. His steps wobbled as if he no longer trusted the ground beneath his feet. His eyes stared straight ahead, unfocused, like a man who had seen something he could never forget.
He didn't speak to anyone.
He went directly into his quarters.
And shut the door.
No matter who knocked.No matter who called his name.
The man who had once ruled the Imperial Kitchen with iron discipline—who barked orders, balanced accounts, and crushed dissent without mercy—was now nothing more than a hollow shell.
And once the pillar collapsed—
Ambition and cruelty rushed in to fill the void.
Wang Youcai did not waste a single breath.
The deputy in charge of procurement suddenly walked taller, his back straight, his chin lifted so high it seemed permanently tilted toward the sky. He strode through the kitchen courtyard as though it already belonged to him.
He barked orders at cooks who had once been his equals.
He slapped lower servants without hesitation, striking them in front of everyone as "examples."
He ran constantly between the storehouses and the guards on night duty, whispering in corners, slipping favors here, promises there.
His smile had changed.
It was smug.Conspiratorial.Hungry.
Power, once tasted, was sweeter than wine.
Matron Liu, meanwhile, became the sharpest voice in the courtyard.
Like a rooster with its feathers raised, she prowled the kitchen from dawn till night, her eyes slicing through every corner—lingering especially on those who had once been close to Chef Zhang.
And on Qing Tian.
"Remember this well!" she screeched one morning, her voice echoing off the walls. "Chef Zhang is your example!"
Her finger stabbed through the air.
"Anyone who doesn't know their place. Anyone who gets clever and thinks they can climb—this is how you end up!"
She stopped deliberately in front of Qing Tian.
Too close.
Her breath smelled of bitter tea and triumph.
Her eyes were poison.
"Some people think slicing a few radishes and cooking a few bowls of sweet soup makes them special," she sneered. "Heart higher than the sky, life thinner than paper."
She leaned in, voice dropping.
"Now that your protector is gone… let's see how long you can still jump."
Qing Tian said nothing.
She lowered her eyes.
She felt the weight settle.
Those who had once quietly thanked her for her small kindnesses now avoided her like a plague carrier.
Heads lowered. Steps hurried.
People crossed the courtyard to avoid passing too close to her, terrified that even standing near her might draw Matron Liu's attention.
A few braver souls dared to glance at her when no one was watching.
Their eyes held sympathy.
And fear.
In the palace, warmth could freeze overnight.
The small mutual-help circle collapsed into silence.
No more shared glances.No more whispered plans.
Xiao Man cried until her eyes were swollen and red, her tears dripping straight into the fire pit as she stoked the flames—only to be viciously scolded by Matron Liu for "wasting water" and "slowing her work."
Fu Gui swung his axe again and again into the firewood, splitting thick logs with savage force, as if he were chopping down the people who had destroyed their master.
Xiao An and Xiao Lu stayed close together, shoulders hunched, saying nothing, moving like shadows afraid of their own footprints.
Fear spread like a cold, wet net over everyone.
No one dared to speak.No one dared to step wrong.
Even the bright spring sunlight that streamed into the courtyard felt pale and lifeless, as if it too were afraid to linger.
Because everyone knew—
In this place, once the sky fell…
It could crush anyone next.