The sun filtered softly through the silk curtains of Concubine Xu's chambers, casting a warm, golden glow across the opulent room. But the light did little to ease the simmering tension in Xu's chest. She paced gracefully across the polished floor, her robes sweeping elegantly behind her, though her mind was anything but calm.
Something was wrong. She could feel it.
Xu had spent years mastering the delicate balance of power in the harem, slowly and meticulously weaving her web of influence. She had outlasted more than a few rivals with that careful precision, each one falling by the wayside while she climbed higher, securing her place at the top. But now... now there was an unsettling shift beneath the surface. It was subtle, almost imperceptible to most, but not to her.
Concubine Mei.
Xu had sensed her growing influence over the past few weeks, watching from the shadows as Mei quietly aligned herself with the weaker concubines. At first, Xu had dismissed her as another ambitious upstart, the kind that always came and went. But Mei had proven herself far more dangerous than expected. She wasn't bold, not the type to challenge Xu outright, but she was smart, dangerously so. Mei had a way of turning the smaller concubines—like Rui and Linghua—to her side, creating fractures in Xu's control that should never have existed in the first place.
Xu clenched her fists, her carefully manicured nails biting into her palms. She had worked too hard for this. Mei was clever, but Xu was not about to be outmaneuvered by some newcomer who thought she could worm her way into the harem's power structure.
"Lian," Xu called sharply, her voice cutting through the stillness of the room.
Her maid, ever obedient, stepped forward from her post by the door, bowing deeply. "Yes, my lady?"
"Prepare for the tea ceremony," Xu said coolly, though her mind was racing. "There's something I need to address."
Lian nodded, eyes flickering with understanding. She knew better than to ask questions when Xu had that tone in her voice. The tea ceremony would be the perfect stage—a public gathering of the concubines, where social masks were worn thin and reputations were made or broken. Xu had no intention of allowing Mei to continue her quiet ascent. Today, she would humiliate her, strip away that innocent mask Mei liked to wear and expose her for the manipulator she truly was.
Xu allowed herself a small smile as she walked to the vanity, her reflection gazing back at her with poised confidence. Mei had made a mistake thinking she could challenge Xu's dominance in the harem. She would be reminded, painfully and publicly, who truly held the power here.
The courtyard was pristine, as always, with delicate arrangements of flowers decorating the jade tables. The tea had been brewed to perfection, a light fragrance of jasmine drifting through the air. But beneath the serene atmosphere, the tension was palpable. Xu could feel the eyes of the concubines watching her as she took her place at the head of the group. They always watched. Always waited.
But today, she wasn't their target. Mei was.
Xu kept her expression composed, the perfect image of grace and dignity. She had practiced this for years, after all—masking her true intentions behind a smile that could kill. She scanned the courtyard briefly before her gaze settled on Mei, sitting quietly with that same innocent, almost naïve expression she wore so well.
It sickened Xu.
With a subtle wave of her hand, the servants began pouring tea, and the chatter of the concubines filled the courtyard. Xu smiled serenely, engaging in light conversation with Concubine Linghua, though her mind was already focused on her move. Mei was too quiet, too comfortable. That would change soon.
As the tea ceremony continued, Xu waited for the perfect moment. She knew exactly how to time her words, when to strike so that it would have the greatest effect. When the chatter died down, she made her move.
"Ladies," Xu began, her voice soft but commanding, drawing the attention of the entire courtyard. "I think it's important, especially in these times of uncertainty, that we remember the legacy of our late queen. Her memory is something we must all honor."
Mei's posture remained calm, but Xu saw the brief flicker of awareness in her eyes. She knew something was coming.
Xu smiled, tilting her head slightly as she addressed the group. "However, I've heard troubling rumors. Rumors that someone here—someone among us—has spoken out of turn. Someone who may not fully respect the queen's memory."
The air in the courtyard thickened, the atmosphere growing heavy with expectation. The other concubines exchanged glances, some curious, others barely concealing their excitement at the impending drama. Xu could feel their anticipation, their eagerness to see someone fall.
Her eyes locked on Mei, who sat quietly, her expression unreadable. "Concubine Mei, I trust that these rumors are nothing more than baseless gossip. Surely, you would never speak ill of our beloved queen?"
It was a perfectly crafted trap. Xu had worded it carefully, leaving Mei no room to respond without implicating herself. Either she denied the accusation too forcefully, and it would appear defensive—or she remained passive, and the other concubines would assume her guilt.
Xu watched Mei closely, waiting for the moment she faltered. But to her surprise, Mei did not look nervous or rattled. Instead, she stood gracefully, her hands folded in front of her, and smiled softly.
Mei's thoughts raced as she stood, every instinct from her old life screaming at her to analyze the situation. Xu had set a trap—a well-crafted one—but Mei had seen this kind of play before. Back when she was gaming, there was always that one player who thought they could force you into a corner, control the narrative. But what Xu didn't understand was that Mei was already several steps ahead.
She allowed herself a small smile, meeting Xu's gaze with calm, wide eyes. "Concubine Xu, I... I don't understand. Disrespect the queen? Why would I ever say such a thing?"
Her voice was soft, vulnerable even, playing perfectly into the role of the innocent newcomer. She saw the way some of the other concubines glanced at each other, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. Mei had always been careful to play the part of the harmless concubine—meek, respectful, and above all, non-threatening.
And now, she would use that to her advantage.
"I would never dream of speaking ill of the queen," Mei continued, her voice trembling slightly, as if the accusation had truly wounded her. "If I've said anything that could be misinterpreted, I deeply apologize. I hold nothing but respect for her memory."
The murmurs among the concubines grew louder, and Mei could see the shift happening in real time. They weren't looking at her as the guilty party anymore. No, they were beginning to feel sorry for her. Xu had come on too strong, too early. Mei had positioned herself perfectly—innocent, wide-eyed, and unfairly accused.
Xu's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening around the teacup in her hand. Mei could see the frustration simmering beneath that calm exterior. The cracks were starting to show.
"It must have been a misunderstanding," Xu said, her voice cool but sharp, trying to regain control of the narrative. "I'm sure no offense was intended."
Mei bowed her head slightly, her lips curved into the slightest of smiles. "Thank you for your understanding, Concubine Xu. I would never want to cause any trouble in the harem."
Xu's frustration was palpable, but she couldn't push further without looking even more heavy-handed. Mei had won this round, and they both knew it.
Later, as the tea ceremony ended and the concubines dispersed, Xu retreated to her chambers, seething in silence. Mei had turned the situation on her, twisting the narrative so that she appeared the victim. Xu's attempt to humiliate her had backfired, and now the other concubines were whispering about her overreach.
She paced her chambers, fists clenched at her sides. She had made a mistake, but it wasn't over. Mei might have won this round, but Xu had far more cards to play.
"Let her enjoy this small victory," Xu muttered to herself, her voice low. "She'll regret ever crossing me."
That evening, as Mei returned to her chambers, she allowed herself a quiet moment of satisfaction. She had expected retaliation from Xu, but the public humiliation had caught her off guard. Still, she had turned the tables, using her carefully crafted innocence to deflect the attack.
She sat by the window, watching the moon rise over the palace. Xu was still a formidable opponent, but Mei had the advantage of strategy. The harem was a battlefield, and Mei knew how to play the long game.