An Abandoned Shadow in the Palace
Nestled at the farthest edge of the sprawling imperial grounds lay the Cold Palace, a decrepit structure shrouded in mystery and dread. Its once-ornate halls were now marked by decay, with peeling paint, moss-covered stone, and a pervasive sense of abandonment. The mere mention of the Cold Palace sent chills through the servants and courtiers who whispered of its ominous past.
Officially, the Cold Palace was a place of exile—a prison for disgraced consorts and concubines who had fallen out of favour. Yet, for decades, it had remained empty, avoided even by the lowest-ranking maids. Rumours of hauntings and dark curses clung to its name like an impenetrable fog, making it the subject of forbidden curiosity.
The Origin of the Haunting
The stories began nearly fifty years ago, during the reign of Emperor Lu Tianyu, Shaofeng's grandfather. It was said that a beautiful concubine named Consort Rui Ningxin had been banished to the Cold Palace after being falsely accused of treason. Once a favoured consort, she was condemned to a life of solitude, her cries of innocence ignored.
Her tragic fate became a cautionary tale for those in the imperial court, warning them of the fickle nature of power and favour. Parents even would tell their children the story of Consort Rui Ningxin to instil a sense of humility and the importance of discretion. Over time, her story grew into a legend, shaping the attitudes and behaviours of future generations who feared that even the slightest misstep could lead them to a similar end.
The details of what transpired within the Cold Palace were murky, but one account spoke of Lady Rui's descent into madness. Some claimed she spent her days carving cryptic messages into the walls with her fingernails. Others whispered that she had cursed the imperial family with her dying breath before her body was discovered lifeless in the moonlit garden.
Some believed she had committed suicide, while others whispered of a supernatural force at work. No one could say for certain what had happened, but the mysterious events of the Cold Palace would never be forgotten. The palace was sealed and never seen again. Rumours and speculation abounded, but no one was ever able to solve the mystery of the Cold Palace.
Since then, the Cold Palace has become a symbol of ruin and despair. The legend of Lady Rui continues to resonate, serving as a reminder of the dangers of ambition and the volatility of imperial favour. It stands as a haunting symbol of the consequences that can befall those who navigate the treacherous waters of court politics.
Even today, the Cold Palace is a powerful metaphor for the destructive potential of unchecked power and the enduring impact of unresolved injustices. Servants swore they could hear wailing in the dead of night, and guards stationed nearby spoke of shadowy figures moving through the darkened halls. Over time, the structure was sealed, and its very existence was all but erased from the official records.
Forbidden Territory
Despite its abandonment, the Cold Palace held a strange allure for those brave—or foolish—enough to seek its secrets. For some, it was the tantalising promise of forbidden knowledge; for others, it was mere bravado.
One such tale involved a young eunuch named Bao Qing, who boasted to his peers that he could spend an entire night in the Cold Palace. Armed with only a lantern, he ventured inside, promising to return by dawn. When the sun rose, Bao Qing was found trembling outside the gates, his face as pale as death.
"They were watching me," he whispered, his voice barely audible. " Eyes in the darkness... and her voice... calling my name."
From that day forward, Bao Qing refused to speak of what he had seen, and he was soon transferred to a distant outpost. The incident only fueled the Cold Palace's terrifying legend, cementing its reputation as a place where the living and the dead collided.
The Emperor's Unspoken Rule
For Emperor Lu Shaofeng, the Cold Palace was a relic of a past he wished to bury. He had ordered its gates sealed early in his reign, decreeing that no one was to enter without his explicit permission. It was a pragmatic decision, meant to quell the growing fear among the palace staff.
Yet, even the Emperor could not ignore the lingering unease that surrounded the Cold Palace. On quiet nights, as the wind howled through the palace grounds, he would sit in his study, his thoughts straying to the shadowy structure. It was a reminder of the fragility of power and the consequences of unchecked ambition.
The Cold Palace was not just a physical place—it was a symbol of the empire's darkest secrets, a place where the echoes of betrayal and despair resonated. A chill ran down the spines of all who stepped inside. Every corner was shrouded in darkness, and whispers seemed to come from everywhere. It was a place of mystery and fear.
Whispers in the Harem
The concubines of the imperial harem were not immune to the lure of the Cold Palace's legend. While most dismissed the stories as superstition, others couldn't help but wonder if the haunting is real.
Consort Shu Yuhuan, always one to exploit an opportunity, began spreading her own version of the tale. She hinted that the Cold Palace's curse was tied to the Empress's lineage, a not-so-subtle attempt to undermine Wanying's authority.
"The Cold Palace's curse has lingered for generations," Shhu whispered to Lady Lian one evening. "Perhaps it was never to be abandoned. Perhaps it waits for a new occupant."
The insinuation was clear, and it quickly spread among the harem. Through Wanying dismissed the rumours with her characteristic composure, the whispers gnawed at the edges of her carefully constructed facade. She knew she was a target, and had to be extra vigilant. She would have to be on her best behaviour or else face the consequences. She was determined to remain strong, no matter the cost.
A Forbidden Exploration
One night, driven by equal parts curiosity and desperation, Imperial Concubine Fang Donger decided to investigate the Cold Palace for herself. Known for her reckless nature, Fang had long been fascinated by the forbidden and the taboo.
The Cold Palace was considered forbidden due to its reputation as a place of exile for those who fell out of the emperor's favor. Its desolate halls were where disgraced concubines were sent, never to return to the main palace, shrouding it in an aura of mystery and dread. The fear of becoming an outcast made it a place no one dared to approach unless they wished to tempt fate.
She slipped past the guards stationed near the palace gates, her heart pounding as she approached the structure. The iron gates creaked ominously as she pushed them open, revealing an overgrown courtyard bathed in moonlight.
Inside, the Cold Palace was a labyrinth of shadows and decay. Dust coated the once-lustrous floors, and cobwebs draped the walls like funeral shrouds. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and something else—something metallic and faintly sweet.
Fang's lantern flickered as she moved deeper into the halls, her footsteps echoing in the silence. She came upon a room where the walls were covered in strange symbols, etched into the plaster with a crude instrument. Though she could not decipher their meaning, the sight sent a chill down her spine.
A sudden noise—a faint whisper—stopped her in her tracks. She spun around, her lantern trembling in her hand. The shadows seemed to shift, and for a moment, she thought she saw a figure standing at the end of the corridor.
"Who's there?" Fang called, her voice barely steady.
There was no response, only the sound of the wind howling through the broken windows.
Fang fled the Cold Palace, her courage evaporating with each step. When she returned to her quarters, she was pale and shaken, unable to articulate what she had experienced.
The Unsolved Mystery
The Cold Palace was more than just a structure; it was a mystery that no one dared to solve and a wound that the imperial court was unable to mend. Even the routes that led close to the palace's gates were avoided by those who lived and worked there, who spoke of its existence with respectful fear. However, the Cold Palace was a potent metaphor of the royal family's hidden secrets because of its inherent ambiguity, lingering shadows, and unsolved problems.
Despite Fang's experience, the true nature of the Cold Palace's mystery remained unresolved. Was it truly haunted by the restless spirit of Ladu Rui? Or was it simply a place where the weight of history and despair had created an atmosphere of foreboding?
The Cold Palace continued to loom over the imperial grounds, a silent reminder of the empire's darkest chapters. For those who dared to approach, it offered no answers—only more questions. And for those who lived within the palace walls, it remained a place best left untouched, its secrets locked away like a ghostly prisoner.
As the years passed, the Cold Palace became a legend that intertwined with the lives of those who walked the imperial halls. Yet one thing was certain: in the world of the palace, where power and betrayal danced hand in hand, the Cold Palace stood as a testament to the shadows that even the brightest lights could not dispel.