Winter has come to the imperial harem, where even flowers slumber.
Though the skies have remained clear and snow has yet to fall, the air carried the biting chill of midwinter. With the flowers gone, the harem was adorned instead by the light of hanging lanterns.
Each palace had its own unique lanterns: red for the Spring Palace, blue for the Summer Palace, golden for the Autumn Palace, and purple for the Winter Palace. The lanterns burned from morning to night, their radiant light creating a spectacle even more dazzling than springtime.
As Fei Ling made her way toward the Winter Palace, she spotted a procession waving the banners of summer near the bridge connecting autumn and winter. It was the ceremonial arrival of a new Summer Consort. Tradition dictated that a new seasonal consort visit each of the Four Seasons Palaces, finishing with an audience at the Imperial Palace to greet the Empress.
Fei Ling, harboring a slight unease about this Summer Consort—who was not from the Feng clan—kept her head lowered and avoided looking at the procession until it passed.
“Hey, about the previous Summer Consort…”
“They say she lost her life, didn’t she?”
“She was a consort adored by everyone, but rumor has it she was killed out of jealousy by a court lady.”
“I heard she fell in love with a eunuch and took her own life.”
Passing consorts whispered baseless rumors among themselves.
“It’s not uncommon for a new seasonal consort to replace one who passed away. I heard the previous Spring Consort also met an untimely death.”
“Wasn’t she poisoned?”
Like shadows forming beneath light, the more splendid the harem, the darker its shadows grew.
◇
Cherry blossoms were blooming in the dead of winter.
On their own, they might have been considered elegant. But these blossoms were said to intoxicate people.
Intoxication, if unchecked, turns to poison. Thus, Fei Ling, as the court physician, had been tasked with investigating and detoxifying them.
“These stairs are so long, Fei Ling-sama,” Lan Xin grumbled, staring up at the seemingly endless stone steps.
“They say there are 200 of them.”
“Ugh, just thinking about it makes me dizzy…”
The Winter Palace was an intricately designed structure, layered one high hall atop another. From the capital, the palace itself looked like a towering spire in the northern court, scraping the heavens. The Winter Garden, too, lay far above the clouds. By the time they had climbed more than fifty steps, Lan Xin was already gasping for breath.
As they neared the summit, lively voices carried on the wind. The noise resembled a festival or a grand banquet.
Upon reaching the rooftop garden, their vision was filled with crimson.
Cherry blossoms.
A bell tower stood in the garden. It was constructed of a skeletal frame—without walls or a roof, only beams and rafters. Inside the tower, a cherry tree stood tall.
“Oh wow, this is… spectacular,” Lan Xin marveled.
Despite the frost that fell every morning and evening, the cherry tree was in full bloom, its branches heavy with flowers. The double-petaled blossoms were a vibrant, rich crimson. The sight was so surreal it seemed almost otherworldly, but the overwhelming fragrance proved it was no mere artifice.
“This is unnatural.”
Fei Ling wasn’t referring to the splendidly blooming cherry blossoms.
Gathered around the bell tower were consorts, court ladies, and eunuchs, all crowded together.
But their behavior was far from what one might expect from a refined cherry blossom viewing party. Some laughed loudly with their mouths wide open, others danced wildly with their robes disheveled, while still others exposed their bare legs as they flirted shamelessly with the eunuchs. Their flushed faces and intoxicated expressions made it clear they were all inebriated.
“This is beyond bad drunkenness—it’s embarrassing to even look at.”
“They say some consorts have been dancing like that for three days and nights straight.”
“At that point, it’s more like they’re possessed.”
The overwhelming fragrance made breathing feel heavy. Oddly, the scent was not that of the blossoms but of the cherry leaves.
“Did you know that cherry trees contain poison?”
“Huh, really?”
“Yes. It’s a small amount, but the leaves contain a toxin. When they fall near the roots, the poison seeps into the soil and prevents other plants from growing. This toxin, when consumed in large amounts, can damage the liver.”
“I’ve also heard that too much alcohol damages the liver.”
“Exactly. It’s a different kind of poison, but both harm the liver. Incidentally, this toxin is also found in cinnamon bark. Be careful not to drink too much cinnamon tea.”
“Eek! Y-you knew I was sneaking it from the medicine cabinet? I’m so sorry!”
Lan Xin had been secretly using the cinnamon bark from the medicine cabinet to make cinnamon tea. While it was an excellent remedy for staying warm in winter, overindulgence in even beneficial remedies could be harmful.
Still, the poison in cherry trees was generally harmless to humans. For the scent alone to intoxicate people this much was highly unusual.
“This is definitely a matter for Bai Ze.”
As Fei Ling’s thoughts wandered, the knowledge recorded in her mind unfurled like a bamboo scroll, opening to the section on tree toxins.
(Plant poison, fragrant poison… no. This isn’t just a toxin from the tree itself.)
The smell of smoke lightly grazed her nose, breaking her concentration.
Turning around, she saw a man standing with the crimson sakura as his backdrop. It was Zhen.
Zhen, puffing on a kiseru, casually kept the toxins at bay while fending off the clinging concubines around him. These women, who had long admired Zhen, took this opportunity to seduce him, but he looked distinctly annoyed. Spotting Fei Ling, he waved his sleeve as though relieved to see her.
“So, you’ve been summoned here too?”
Breaking away from the concubines, Zhen hurried over to Fei Ling. With Lan Xin by her side, Fei Ling gave Zhen a deep bow.
“Master Zhen, are you here to investigate the feng shui as well?”
“Something like that. From court ceremonies to palace disturbances, and even the battlefield—I swear, Her Majesty the Empress works me to the bone.”
“I heard you are in service to Takamiya. That is surely a testament to your remarkable talent. There’s hardly a day when one doesn’t hear tales of your accomplishments. Just this late autumn, I heard you ventured to the frontlines, deciphered the feng shui, and repelled the enemy forces invading from the east.”
She implied he had likely used poison, but Zhen merely smiled silently. Turning to Lan Xin, he spoke with a friendly air.
“Ah, you must be the court physician’s assistant. I’m Zhen, a feng shui master.”
His unclouded, radiant smile was enough to make sense of the concubines’ infatuation.
Fei Ling had expected that Lan Xin, upon seeing such a handsome man, would light up with excitement. However, Lan Xin’s reaction was unexpected.
“…Ming Lan Xin, at your service.”
Lan Xin shrank back timidly, hiding behind Fei Ling. Zhen let out a wry smile.
“Have I done something to frighten her?”
“N-no… please, think nothing of it.”
Lan Xin stiffened further, resembling a frog frozen under the gaze of a snake.
Feeling sorry for her, Fei Ling intervened.
“Lan Xin, return and prepare the remedies. Also, gather some pine leaves.”
Unlike Fei Ling or Zhen, Lan Xin wasn’t accustomed to dealing with toxins. If she lingered here too long, she might succumb to the intoxication, just like the concubines. Fei Ling worried she might already be feeling unwell and sent her back.
Once Lan Xin had left, Fei Ling spoke to Zhen.
“This is a poison of yang energy.”
“Not a poison of the tree?”
Zhen raised one eyebrow in mild surprise.
“I don’t recall when, but I once heard the concubines gossiping about a ‘wish-granting sakura’ here in the Winter Palace. They said if you write your wish on a wooden plaque and bury it at the roots, it will come true.”
“Ah, sounds like the kind of tale women would love,” Zhen said with disdain.
“You know as well as I do that wishes carry strong yang energy. And if that energy becomes too concentrated, it turns into poison.”
“Much like how we dispel evil during the Double Ninth Festival, when the yang number nine doubles.”
Fei Ling nodded, shifting her gaze toward the sakura.
“First, let’s confirm if this sakura is the one from the rumors.”
Digging around the base of the tree, they unearthed an overwhelming number of wooden plaques, just as the gossip suggested. Painted red, the plaques bore handwritten wishes.
May the Emperor come to visit.
May I bear a child.
May my family recover from their illnesses.
May I be united with my beloved.
Amidst the heartfelt wishes, one chilling curse stood out: “May Lady Xue Mei’s child be stillborn.”
The elegant handwriting that inscribed this curse sent shivers down Fei Ling’s spine.
“Who would do such a thing?”
“Who knows? But it’s hardly rare for women to curse pregnant consorts,” Zhen replied.
The sakura tree had absorbed the desires of the women, blossoming in dazzling splendor, its fragrance intoxicatingly strong.
“I will restore the balance of yin and yang,” Zhen declared, sealing the toxins to prevent their continuation.
“And I will prepare the antidote,” Fei Ling said.
Though their roles differed, their purpose was the same.
In unison, they spoke:
“To eliminate the poison.”
