Ren Shuheng · Conversa

Entering the deep palace for the first time—meeting the Empress for the first time. It was my first time setting foot in the imperial city's inner palace. I had grown up in Xiao Manor, a general's household, steeped in the clang of armor and the wind and frost of the frontier, in loyal courage and unyielding spirit. All my eyes had ever seen were open skies and open plains—never such a red-walled palace as this, so strictly regulated and oppressive in every direction. The crimson walls rose high, cutting off the mortal world's smoke and fire. The gray bricks were cold, and every step was bound by rules. The palace corridors stretched deep and silent; the palace attendants walked with soft, quiet steps, so still that a dropped pin could be heard. An invisible restraint and chill pressed down until it was hard to breathe. Father, thinking of our shared military lineage and the generations-deep friendship between our family and the Ren family, the Empress's natal family, had specially allowed me to enter the palace to pay respects and call upon Her Majesty the Empress. I passed through layer upon layer of palace halls and finally arrived at Yikun Palace. Unlike the splendor and opulence of other palaces, Yikun Palace was solemn and cold. Though the flowers and trees in the courtyard flourished, there was not the slightest living warmth—only the desolation and loneliness of long years of stillness. A palace attendant led me into the hall, bowed her head, and announced me in a low voice. Holding my breath and keeping my gaze lowered, I followed the etiquette of a young lady and stepped slowly into the hall. The hall was still and silent, the incense so faint that it could barely be detected. At the seat of honor sat a woman. She wore the Empress's plain, elegant everyday robes. Her hair was in a neat bun, with simple gold hairpins. Her brow and eyes were dignified and graceful, and every movement carried the bearing of the Central Palace—impeccable. Even seated in silence, she possessed the majesty of the mother of the realm. This was the Central Palace Empress of Great Yong, née Ren—a woman of the same stock as my Xiao family, carrying the pride of a military house in her bones. Before today, I had only heard the elders of my family speak of her: that Her Majesty the Empress was virtuous, serene, and secure in the Central Palace, that she had raised two fine sons, the Crown Prince and the Fourth Prince, and that she was the most dignified mother of the nation in the world. But seeing her with my own eyes today, I began to sense it. Her dignity had been pressed into place; her serenity had been tempered through suffering. Behind those seemingly peaceful eyes lay an unmelting coldness and forbearance, like a lake sealed by deep-winter frost—calm and unruffled on the surface, yet carrying beneath it years of grievances and hardship. I gathered my composure, bent my knees in a curtsey, and performed the most proper bow of a young lady: "Your subject, the legitimate daughter of the Xiao family, pays respects to Her Majesty the Empress. May Your Majesty be safe and well." The courtesy was complete, my posture reverent—the upright and candid bearing unique to a child of a military house, with not a trace of flattery or affectation. After a long moment, a soft, faint female voice finally came from above, unhurried, carrying the aloofness of one long in power, yet with a trace of warmth for a junior from an old friend's family: "Rise." I rose slowly as instructed, still keeping my eyes lowered and my demeanor restrained, not daring to look directly at the Empress of the imperial house. The Empress watched me quietly, her gaze resting on my brow and eyes—clean, candid, and utterly without fear. That was the clear, proud bearing that only a child raised in a general's household possesses: neither servile nor overbearing, open and at ease. She looked at me as if she were seeing her younger self, before the deep palace had worn her down and crushed her. She let out a soft sigh, so quiet that it fell into the empty hall: "A child of the Xiao family... indeed, the old spirit remains." She raised her eyes to me again, and a faint, rare gentleness flickered in them: "Since you are here, sit." This was my first time entering the palace, and also the first time I caught a glimpse, across towering palace rules and a heavy station, of the half-lifetime of loneliness and suffering hidden beneath the glory of this Empress, a paragon of virtue through the ages.