The essence of one’s handwriting cannot be concealed.
Moreover, Ye Shaohua had never intended to hide it.
She had lived through an ancient era before—where she had been a renowned talent, celebrated for her literary prowess. Even in her original world, her calligraphy had been exceptional.
After years of refinement, it could be said that no scholar in the capital could rival her brushwork.
Yu Wenjing had received the finest education since childhood, and his calligraphy had been meticulously cultivated.
Though he dared not claim superiority in all things, within the capital, his handwriting was indeed illustrious.
Yet now, his writing paled in comparison to Ye Shaohua’s.
Even he himself was instantly captivated by the three bold, sweeping characters she had penned—each stroke dynamic and unrestrained, as if dragons danced upon the page. The characters were vigorous, almost leaping from the paper, exuding an unbridled energy.
This was no ordinary script. Yu Wenjing had never seen such a style before, nor had he heard of its existence.
Qu Huashang, once lavishly praised by the literati of the capital for her delicate “flower-style” calligraphy, now seemed utterly eclipsed beside Ye Shaohua’s work.
The difference was like heaven and earth.
Yu Wenjing stood frozen before the desk, the paper clutched in his hand, unable to tear his gaze away.
For the second time that day, he felt his face burn with shame.
He had dared to suggest she use a fingerprint instead of writing—when now, he wished he could have been the one to press his thumb onto the page. What must she have thought of his handwriting?
A wave of defeat crashed over him.
For a fleeting moment, he wanted to burn the paper to ashes.
If not for the fact that it bore the terms of their agreement, he might have done so.
The Chief Eunuch, though not bold enough to look directly, glimpsed the characters from the corner of his eye.
He couldn’t make out the content, but the three bold characters—Ye Shaohua—struck him like a physical blow.
And yet, confusion nagged at him.
When Ye Shaohua had still been the Princess Consort, she had never attended literary gatherings. Over time, the noble ladies had stopped inviting her to their poetry competitions and flower-viewing banquets.
No one had ever seen her write.
Unlike Qu Huashang, whose reputation for brilliance was widely known.
The Chief Eunuch had once admired the Empress’s delicate calligraphy—elegant and pleasing to the eye.
But compared to Ye Shaohua’s commanding strokes?
Even if Her Majesty practiced for another ten years, she could never match this.
Of course, he would never voice such treasonous thoughts.
Still, he marveled. The daughter of a military official, skilled in martial arts—yet her calligraphy was this refined? She must have practiced relentlessly.
Even a layman could tell: such mastery was not achieved overnight.
…
Yu Wenjing found himself unable to focus on state affairs.
Instead, he carried the paper back to Moonlit Splendor Palace—only to find its gates shut against him.
For the first time, the Emperor was barred at the door.
A palace maid stood firm, her tone neither deferential nor defiant.
“Your Majesty, Lady Ye has requested that you honor your agreement. She believes it best if you meet less frequently.”
Yu Wenjing’s grip tightened on the paper.
He cast one last glance at Moonlit Splendor Palace before finally turning away.
Though he left, news of the Emperor visiting the palace twice in one night spread like wildfire.
The entire court now knew: Consort Ye had regained favor.
Qu Huashang had waited all evening for Yu Wenjing.
Instead, she received word that he had gone to Moonlit Splendor Palace—twice.
Her mood soured instantly.
With a crash, she shattered another teacup. The servants of Eternal Spring Palace held their breaths, not daring to make a sound.
“Summon Consort Ye. Now.”
Her tone was an order, laced with icy disdain.
Qu Huashang had always been the Emperor’s only woman, proud and unshakable in her status. She had never imagined that the woman she’d dismissed as beneath notice could claw her way back into relevance.
The maids and eunuchs saw nothing amiss in her command.
But when they delivered the summons, Ye Shaohua refused.
Qu Huashang’s rage ignited.
She rose, donned her scarlet formal robes, and marched to Moonlit Splendor Palace.
Inside, Ye Shaohua sat feeding sparrows, not bothering to rise when the Empress entered.
“My apologies. His Majesty has decreed that—due to my injuries—I am exempt from all formalities.”
Her voice was languid, her gaze steady.
Qu Huashang knew Ye Shaohua wouldn’t lie about such a thing. The realization only stoked her fury.
“Consort Ye, I underestimated you,” she hissed, crushing a freshly plucked flower in her grip. “Do not think escaping the dungeons means you’ve won. Do you truly believe you’re still the untouchable daughter of the Ye General? Enjoy these fleeting days while they last.”
Qu Huashang was no fool. She understood court politics.
With General Ye’s return, the Emperor would have to curb the Ye family’s military power.
Her grandfather had already hinted: the Ye household would not survive this.
The thought soothed her rage slightly.
She studied Ye Shaohua—spine straight despite her imprisonment—and sneered before tossing the ruined flower to the ground.
“Sun Ping. We’re leaving.”
Sun Ping hurried to obey, but when his eyes accidentally met Ye Shaohua’s—cool and mocking—he stumbled over a loose stone, nearly falling.
No. No, I made the right choice.
He clung to that certainty.
The Ye family had grown too powerful. The Emperor would never spare them.
Besides, the rumors were clear: Yu Wenjing had only ever loved Qu Huashang. He had made her Empress the moment he ascended the throne. His disdain for Ye Shaohua was no secret.
And in many ways… Ye Shaohua couldn’t compare to the Empress—not in erudition, not in grace, not in tender devotion.
Aligning with Qu Huashang was the only path to survival.
Sun Ping glanced back once, guilt flickering in his eyes.
But self-preservation was only natural.
Did they expect him to die for Ye Shaohua?
The moment Qu Huashang’s entourage vanished beyond the palace gates, the Chief Eunuch came rushing in, face ashen.
“Consort Ye—! A disaster has struck the Ye household—!”
