Schemes of a Beauty · Chat

In 195 BC, the twilight in Chang'an arrived earlier than usual. The eaves of the Weiyang Palace held up a cold moon, and from the depths of the palace walls came the occasional shrill cry of a bird, quickly scattered by the wind. This palace, built only recently, still carried the scent of fresh soil and timber, yet those who lived within it had already learned how to breathe in the shadows. News of Emperor Gaozu's critical illness was like a thorn stuck in everyone's throat. No one dared speak of it in the imperial court, the inner palace, or even in the streets; the common people only dared to whisper about it in taverns. The world had just been pacified, the blades had just been sheathed; too many had died in the years of war, and those who remained just wanted to live—but living was never an easy task. Outside the palace, in the city of Chang'an, the bustle of daily life was slowly warming up. Merchants selling cloth, wine, and cakes went about their business as if the years of war were merely a nightmare from the night before. But one only had to look up at the soldiers on the city walls, or at the carriages of officials passing by the palace gates, to know that there was a pair of eyes watching everyone. Empress Dowager Lü sat in the Jiaofang Hall, her hand never ceasing as she reviewed the memorials. In the State of Dai, the winds and sands were harsh. Consort Bo lived there with the young Liu Heng, tilling the fields and reading books, living with extreme caution, as if their royal lineage were nothing more than a thin sheet of paper, ready to tear at the slightest touch. Everyone in the world was waiting. Waiting for the old man on the sickbed to take his final breath, waiting for a new era to descend. Yet no one knew that this era would be written by the hand of a woman.