Chapter 1: Porcelain in the Cold Palace

The freezing wind cut like a knife, slicing through Shen Jingzhe’s fading consciousness and whipping her frozen body like an invisible lash.

She snapped her eyes open. Above her was a ceiling of mottled, peeling gray tiles. The gaps between them leaked more than just the winter chill; they breathed a stench of ancient mold and rotting wood that crawled up her nostrils, making her stomach churn.

Pain surged through every limb and joint, a scream of agony against the invasive cold. As the sensation hit, fragments of a past life collided with the present—she was no longer the doctor who had collapsed on an operating table, exhausted from saving others. She was now the Seventh Princess of the Da Qing dynasty, a forgotten woman destined for a miserable death in the Cold Palace.

A storm of emotion raged in her heart, but her expression remained a mask of cold detachment. She lifted her hand, fingertips trembling, and gripped the corner of the coarse hemp blanket beneath her. She clung to the fabric, desperate for something tangible to anchor her crumbling sanity. Cold sweat soaked her clothes, clinging to her spine like ice, yet her eyes remained as still and deep as a dead pond.

With a sharp creak, the dilapidated wooden door swung open. The wind rushed in, sending a flurry of dead leaves skittering across the floor. Cuiwei entered, carrying a bowl of porridge that was beginning to sprout green mold. She walked with a heavy, stumbling gait; it was clear she had been kneeling for so long that her legs had gone numb.

"Miss, you're awake?" Cuiwei’s voice was thick with tears, her eyes swollen like peaches. She carefully stepped around the protruding stones on the floor and placed the foul-smelling porridge on the only intact wooden table in the room. She didn't dare look at Shen Jingzhe, her hands frantically rubbing the hem of her clothes until her knuckles turned white. "I... I thought you'd never wake up.

The wind is fierce outside, and this Cold Palace is practically open to the elements. With your health... I fear you won't survive this winter."

Shen Jingzhe glanced at the moldy porridge. A few rotten vegetable leaves floated in the murky broth. She didn't show disgust; instead, she looked at Cuiwei’s shaking hands.

"Cuiwei, who sent this?"

Cuiwei lowered her head, her voice dropping to a whisper as if fearing the very stones of the walls were listening. "They say it was a gift from Xiao Jingyan, but in truth, it's just the leftovers Su Wanyi didn't want. Her Ladyship is 'kind,' but the rules of the Cold Palace aren't ours to make. A eunuch came yesterday to say your medicinal catalysts have run out. If you fall ill, it will simply be the 'peace and quiet' the consorts have granted you."

Shen Jingzhe felt a chill run down her spine, her fingertips turning pale. She recalled the records from her previous life: while Su Wanyi maintained a facade of benevolence, she was the most ruthless of them all. This bowl of porridge wasn't just an insult; it was a death sentence.

She turned toward the corner of the room, where dust had piled up like a layer of ashen snow. A Ru Kiln teacup lay half-buried under dead leaves. Its glaze was a stunning celestial blue, but it radiated a sense of deathly stillness. It was an old possession Xiao Jingyan had discarded after being framed by Su Wanyi, but it hid a lethal secret.

She slowly pushed herself up, her joints popping. With heavy steps, she dragged herself toward the cup. Every step felt like walking on knife-edges, her soles scraping against the floor with a jarring sound, but she had to reach the only variable in this room.

The moment her fingertips touched the ice-cold glaze, the world froze.

An invisible ripple surged from the porcelain into her palm. The scene before her distorted instantly; the gray air became viscous, and a thick, charcoal-black aura coiled around the cup like a black snake, spreading through the energy veins and flooding her entire body. This was no illusion—it was visible Calamity Aura.

It was bone-chilling, swallowing the last remnants of warmth in her body. She realized this was no ordinary curse, but a catastrophe deliberately sent by Xiao Jingyan to extinguish her last spark of life.

Instinctive panic flared. Shen Jingzhe bit her tongue hard, the taste of blood filling her mouth as she used raw willpower to suppress the urge to recoil.

She focused her mind, activating the ability of [Broken Porcelain, Seeking Veins], guiding a faint, nearly invisible thread of Auspicious Aura from within the porcelain. It was a golden stream of warmth, thin as a silk thread, but the moment it touched her, it surged into her meridians.

As the golden line flowed, the damp chill surrounding her began to recede. Sensation returned to her stiff fingers, and the deep-seated frost was pushed back bit by bit. Warmth returned to her body, erasing the look of a woman on the brink of death.

Just then, a faint disturbance echoed from the depths of the Cold Palace, like some creature shifting in the shadows.

Shen Jingzhe sensed acutely that the source of the Calamity Aura didn't end with the teacup; it pointed toward a hidden chamber in the deepest part of the palace. The gray haze there wasn't natural—it was a poison array deliberately laid by someone. This wasn't just Xiao Jingyan’s coldness; it was a meticulously designed murder plot.

Because of her touch, the Calamity Aura began to shift. The misfortune that had been clinging to her began to flow backward through the energy veins, pointing toward that unknown corner. It was as if an invisible hand were manipulating things from behind the scenes, waiting for her to collapse completely to seal her fate.

Noticing that Shen Jingzhe’s complexion had improved—color finally returning to her deathly pale face—Cuiwei collapsed to the floor in a fit of sobbing, her knees hitting the cold stone with a dull thud.

"Miss... did you use some secret medicine?" Cuiwei trembled violently, gripping Shen Jingzhe’s sleeve so hard her nails nearly dug into the fabric. "If the people outside find out you have a chance at recovery, they will only hate you more. Please, don't hide it from me. I only want to keep you safe."

Shen Jingzhe gently brushed her hand away. The movement was soft but firm, and her voice was unnervingly calm.

"Cuiwei, get up." She looked into the girl's swollen eyes, her tone softening slightly, though her gaze remained crystal clear. "There is no secret medicine. My heart is steady, so the illness recedes. As long as the will to live remains, the luck will not run dry. Just keep watch; don't let anyone get close." She didn't reveal the secret of her "cheat" ability. In this man-eating imperial palace, ignorance was the only shield; the more one knew, the faster one died.

Shen Jingzhe looked at the teacup again, quickly dissecting Su Wanyi’s scheme.

Su Wanyi was deep and calculating, a knife hidden behind a smile. By intentionally discarding this Ru Kiln piece—saturated with jealousy and malice—she had transferred the Calamity Aura generated by her own struggle for favor onto Shen Jingzhe. It was a plot to kill by proxy, intending for the Seventh Princess to die of "fate" without anyone ever knowing. But with her new ability, the conspiracy had developed a flaw.

Calamity Aura could be transferred, and Auspicious Aura could offset it. As long as she lived, she could turn that malice back onto those who plotted against her.

Suddenly, steady footsteps echoed outside. They were unhurried, carrying the oppressive weight typical of a powerful official. Every step seemed to tread upon the hearts of others.

The door opened, and Gu Tingye entered, dressed in black robes with his hands behind his back. The night was as dark as ink, but he was like a cold blade drawn from its sheath. His piercing gaze swept through the dim corners of the Cold Palace before landing on the teacup in Shen Jingzhe’s hand.

He didn't speak at first. He simply scrutinized the abnormal ripple in the air, as if looking at a pawn about to enter the game, or perhaps searching for a potential ally. There was no pity in his eyes, only a cold calculation of interest, and a faint, playful curve at the corner of his mouth.

Gu Tingye stepped inside, his low voice breaking the deathly silence of the Cold Palace with an unquestionable pressure.

"Shen Jingzhe, that porcelain in your hand seems to hide something that shouldn't be there." He looked straight at her, his gaze like a knife. "You would do well to understand the weight of the things the Emperor bestows. If you don't want to die in an unsightly manner, tell me what you know."

Shen Jingzhe didn't flinch. Instead, she met Gu Tingye’s gaze, a cold smile touching her lips. She tilted the cup slightly, and a drop of tea stained the floor, evaporating instantly.

"The Marquis is joking. It's nothing more than a dusty old cup." She raised the teacup, her fingertips lightly stroking the glaze. The Calamity Aura flickered under the light, swirling like a black mist. "However, for the Marquis to visit the Cold Palace in the dead of night... aren't you afraid Xiao Jingyan will accuse the Marquis of Zhonguo of forming factions and spying on the inner palace?"

A flash of surprise crossed Gu Tingye’s eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. He leaned in, closing the distance between them.

"Interesting." He let out a cold chuckle and stepped closer, his voice dropping. His breath brushed against her cheek, carrying a faint scent of tobacco. "Since you know you're in a dead-end, why refuse to beg for mercy? It seems you are no ordinary woman. Shen Jingzhe, I'll give you a chance. Help me find the mastermind behind Xiao Jingyan, and I will ensure you walk out of this Cold Palace. Deal?"

Shen Jingzhe gripped the cup tighter as the Calamity Aura continued to surge. She decided she would no longer be the one waiting.

"Deal." Her gaze was resolute. A sliver of golden Auspicious Aura rose from the cup, neutralizing the gloomy energy clinging to Gu Tingye. The light was soft yet firm, strikingly bright in the dimness of the room. "But on one condition: when this is done, I want Xiao Jingyan’s life. As for now, Marquis, please leave. This palace may be a ruin, but it's still enough of a place for me to make my final stand."

Gu Tingye stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly burst into a low laugh. He pulled a small ebony token from his sleeve and placed it on the table, pressing his thumb firmly onto its surface. "Three days from now, at the hour of the Rat, the West Corner Gate." He turned to leave, his robes sweeping across the threshold and bringing a gust of cold wind. He didn't look back. "Try not to die too soon."

The moment the door closed, Shen Jingzhe felt a cold dampness on her back. She released the teacup, her knuckles white. Just as she was about to catch her breath, the remaining black mist in the cup suddenly paused, as if snagged by something. It slowly rose from the glaze, stretching into a thin thread and drifting deeper into the hall.

She followed the trail of Calamity Aura. At the far end of the main hall, there was a brick wall that had reportedly been sealed for ten years. A faint, fishy stench was seeping from the cracks in the bricks—the same source as the mist in her cup. The moss at the base of the wall stirred without any wind, as if something behind the wall were slowly breathing.

Shen Jingzhe picked up the teacup and took two steps following the black mist. Suddenly, the floor tile beneath her felt hollow, letting out a very faint *click*.

She looked down. A worn-down pattern was carved into the tile, and it fit perfectly with the Auspicious pattern on the bottom of the cup.

And the thing behind the wall seemed to have recognized her through the bricks.