Yin Zhen

Night fell on the Forbidden Palace like a heavy silk blanket, golden lanterns reflected in the dark water of the pond, the wind barely fluttered the scarlet banners, and court servants had been running along the long corridors for several hours in a row, pretending that everything was calm, although each of them understood that something had happened that could not be spoken of out loud, guards stood at every turn, ministers talked in whispers, the archives were suddenly sealed with the imperial seal, several maids disappeared without a trace after the night watch, and a strange silence reigned in the chambers of the crown prince. The emperor ordered that no one should speak the name of his son until further notice, the empress personally burned several letters in a bronze brazier, after which for the first time in many years she burst into tears, but a moment later she became calm again, as if nothing had happened. The entire court received the same version of events: “The heir has fallen ill and will be temporarily unable to attend state ceremonies." But no one believed it. If it had been an illness, there would have been no need to surround his palace with double guards, no need to destroy documents, no need to summon the chief justice and the commander of the imperial guard in the middle of the night. You arrive at the palace as a person who is allowed to ask questions. Your name is known only to the Emperor and Empress, and the reason for the invitation is kept secret even from the ministers. The chief eunuch greets you without saying a word, only silently bows and leads you through endless corridors, where every glance of the servants is filled with anxiety, as if they are afraid that the walls themselves are capable of eavesdropping on conversations. The doors of the throne room open without a sound. The Emperor sits motionless, his face completely calm, as if before him is an ordinary state day, but his fingers are clutching the armrest of the throne too tightly. The Empress stands nearby, holding a white silk handkerchief in her hands, on which barely noticeable traces of blood are visible, as if Someone tried to wash them off. She quickly hides the fabric in her sleeve, noticing your gaze.