Under The Bamboo Parasol 53 Cold Palace

He hurried to his quarters where he ordered a bath be drawn immediately. Thereby, peeling off his outer clothes and throwing them on the floor. As a servant walked in with a wooden bucket to pour in the water for the bath. As the order was given abruptly, and the water could not be heated quickly enough, he said: "Second master, this might take some time."

Gao Zizheng shooed his hand, "Quickly, quickly." Just as the servant bowed and prepared to turn around, "Wait." he points to the clothes sitting on the ground and says "Burn it."

"Huu...?"

"I SAID BURN IT!" Gao Zizheng bursts in fury.

The servant only nods and brings the clothes along with the bucket back to the kitchen. Confused as to why the second master would want him to destroy the clothes that were in perfect condition.

At the kitchen, he hands the clothes to a servant boy fanning at the fireplace. Embers and smoke float around the air, and the boy is coughing. "The second master ordered it to be burned."

The servant boy takes the clothes and inspects them. Finding no moth holes or imperfections, he asks: "Why does the second master want to take a bath so early, and order his clothes to be burned?"

"How should I know, it is not our place to ask anyway."

The servant boy immediately stops talking, and tosses the clothes into the fireplace, as he would toss wood. With the fire well-fed, it grows larger. This continues until the cloth is entirely consumed and not a trace of it remains.

~

"Wen Jian, what time is it?"

"It is almost midnight Madam." A voice says from the shadows.

"Understood, you may leave now."

Quiet fell from within the shadows. It was uncertain whether the person had left, or if the person simply stayed silent without a single movement.

Madam Lin let out a silent breath. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at a certain corner within the room. When there was the silence fell still, she finally removed her stare from the corner. Making her way behind the folding screen that has a painting of mountains. The area behind the screen had a single candle that illuminated the paper from which the scenery was painted. The slight sways in candlelight brought on the slightest tints of life to the painting.

Her dress made from dazzled fabric that draped around the body was thrown directly over the screen, while clothes that were slightly more form-fitting were put on. Hairpins that held her hair in the neat hairstyle had also been removed and placed upon the dresser. By the time she steps out, she looked like a rich lady of a n.o.ble family prepared to go on a hunting trip, her hair placed into a simple bun.

Without the slightest care for appearance, she looked at the corner that she had been eyeing and in the blink of an eye, her figure disappears.

Among the rooftops of the city, there was a shadow that flew by. It was far too fast for anyone to catch on that it was a human figure, but if one stayed still long enough, there would be a wisp of a breeze that came out of nowhere. The roof tiles emitted the sounds of slight clattering, but the sound was not enough to hint that above the roof was a fully grown person, rather, it sounded like the wind rattling up the tiles.

The strange rattling came and went, but this was the hour which many would be sound asleep in their homes, so no one noticed the oddity.

The figure made its way to the palace, which was slightly more guarded, with its high walls and patrolling guards that stood erect, scanning the grounds for any sign of movement. There was not a single soul that noticed a shadow slip through the cracks.

Yet, after slipping through the cracks, the shadow did not head for the main palace where the emperor and core members of the imperial family resided, instead, going to the secluded palace in an obscure corner that was the cold palace.

The cold palace was where disgraced consorts and imperial members were sent to live out the rest of their lives upon falling out of favor with the emperor. It could not be said to be a horrible place, faring slightly better than the prisons, but other than that, there was not much more to say.

The palace was surrounded by high walls, with the doors sealed shut. It gave off the feelings of ice. The number of people who have been disgraced since the establishment of the dynasty was inumerable, but yet, this place never seems to be filled to capacity. Their names are forever are forgotten. It was unknown how many had died off in this place, their bodies sent off to public graveyards, hastily buried beyond the capital walls without so much as a tomb being erected. Those who died within the cold palace would never have their name recorded. Their spirits cursed to forever wander the wilderness.

Perhaps this was why the palace gave off this uncomfortable feeling.

The rumors that had floated around had caused the cold palace to run into disuse. It was dilapidated, and there was not so much as a guard or servant that would ever dare come here at night.

The figure wandered from building to building looking for someone.

A small building that had been wrapped by old vines, nearly strangling the building that was falling apart. The front yard was nothing more than a patch of dry yellow sanded land, that gra.s.s would not even grow on. It did not fare much better inside with the four walls bare to the bone, with only a crude wooden table and some chairs. On the table was a chipped plate of cold, half-eaten buns. At the bed, there was a woman sleeping, her body wrapped in a coc.o.o.n of tattered quilts, her hair was disheveled as she rolled around unrestfully.

Madam Lin silently looked at the woman who was rolling around, grasping for warmth within the tattered quilts. There was no warmth within the cold palace.

What could be said? If she said she felt happy, that was not what she felt. If she said she felt sorrow, that was not what she felt either. It was so strange to hear of something than to truly see it with her own eyes.