Moonlight glinted coldly across the courtyard stones.
The news struck Qing Tian like a sledgehammer—shattering the fragile calm of Tingyu Pavilion in the dead of night.
Little Li knelt on the ground, shaking like a leaf caught in an autumn gale. Tears and mucus streaked his face as he struggled to speak."My lady… what do we do… there are so many officials… the memorials have already been submitted… the Emperor—what if the Emperor…"
Spring Peach and Summer He were jolted awake and rushed out from the side rooms. The moment they heard his words, their faces drained of color. They stood frozen, helplessly staring at Qing Tian.
Qing Tian remained where she was.
A chill surged up from her feet in an instant, racing through her veins, locking her limbs in icy paralysis. Her ears rang violently. Little Li's voice faded into noise, leaving only a handful of phrases crashing against her mind again and again—
"Governing through food.""Disrupting palace order.""Swaying the hearts of servants.""Violating yin and yang."Stripped of rank.Expelled from the palace.A full investigation of the Imperial Kitchen…
Each accusation was a blade dipped in poison.
Not only aimed at her—but meant to drag down everyone she cared about with her.
The Outer Court.A joint memorial.
This was no coincidence.
It was a calculated counterattack.
Someone—Noble Consort Liu, or others angered by her "overstepping"—had finally unsheathed the most lethal weapon available: ancestral law, ritual hierarchy, and the absolute taboo of Inner Court women touching administrative power.
The request forms could be framed as efficiency.The hot meals as compassion.
But the Culinary Academy—teaching eunuchs and maids real skills—struck at long-standing, unspoken rules. It could be twisted into "inciting the masses," "gathering followers," even "violating cosmic order"—a woman instructing men.
And her role assisting the Imperial Kitchen?In hostile hands, it became "governing through food," interference in Internal Affairs authority.
Layered together, the accusations formed a flawless net.
A net meant to crush her completely.
Cold sweat soaked through her inner robes. A night breeze brushed past, and she shuddered violently—then forced herself to breathe.
Don't panic.She couldn't afford to.
Drawing in a deep breath of icy air, she felt pain flare in her chest—but the sharpness steadied her racing heart.
She bent down and helped Little Li to his feet, keeping her voice as calm as she could."Slowly. Where did the news come from? Are you certain? Has anything reached His Majesty yet?"
Little Li wiped his face, sobbing quietly."My cousin… he's on duty at the Transmission Office. He risked everything to pass the message. It's real. The lead censor is named Zhou—several others signed on. The memorial has already gone through procedure. At the latest, it will reach the Emperor tomorrow morning."
"And His Majesty?" Qing Tian asked.
"No word yet."
That single sentence sent her heart sinking.
"Then it's confirmed," she murmured.
Spring Peach clutched her sleeve, voice trembling."My lady—should we go to the Emperor? Or warn Steward Li and Chef Zhang?"
Qing Tian shook her head immediately.
A midnight audience would only make things worse.And dragging Li or her newly freed, fragile master into panic would help no one.
She forced herself to think.
The timing was vicious—right before the Heaven Sacrifice Ceremony. At such a moment, anything that threatened "order" or "precedent" would be magnified. Even the Emperor would have to consider appearances.
Still… she wasn't empty-handed.
His late-night visits.His silent permissions.The changes she had wrought with her own hands.
The Imperial Kitchen was different now.And the servants—those once invisible—were no longer entirely in the dark.
"Little Li," she said quietly, "see if your cousin can learn anything more—who signed, what 'evidence' they cited."
He shook his head helplessly. "That's all he dared."
She nodded. That warning alone was invaluable.
"Spring Peach. Summer He," Qing Tian said, turning to them, "close the gates. No one enters tonight. Little Li, go back as if nothing happened."
"And you, my lady?" Spring Peach whispered.
"I'll be fine," Qing Tian said, offering a faint smile she didn't feel. "No panic. No gossip. No rash moves."
Once they were gone, silence settled heavily over the courtyard.
The moon hung high. The cold seeped into her bones.
This was it.
The open strike.
She returned indoors, lit the desk lamp, and spread out paper.
If she was to fall—
She would fall standing.
Not begging.Not hiding.
She would write a formal defense. A clear account of everything she had done—its purpose, its results, its limits. She would make it undeniable:
This was not interfering in governance.It was doing the work no one else would do.
The Culinary Academy was not sedition.It was a ladder for the hopeless.
And she had never crossed the line the Emperor himself had drawn.
She dipped her brush into ink.
It hovered.
Where to begin?
Outside, the night deepened. Somewhere far away, a night watchman's wooden clapper echoed through the palace—slow, hollow, relentless.
The wind was rising.
And the storm—
Was finally coming.