The window of Cining Palace was half open.
Wind swept through the hall,
stirring the prayer banners into a soft, whispering rustle.
The Empress Dowager sat before the Buddha shrine.
But she was not chanting.
She was waiting.
Waiting for news.
Waiting for someone.
"Your Majesty…"
An old palace servant spoke in a low voice.
"The night transport line of the Inner Supply Bureau… has been cut."
"The Emperor's people made the move."
The Empress Dowager slowly opened her eyes.
No surprise.
Not even a ripple.
"Mm."
Just that one sound.
The old servant hesitated, then asked carefully:
"And Director Qing… is she becoming too sharp?"
The Empress Dowager smiled.
A faint, seasoned smile.
"Sharp is good."
"Right now, she's not investigating for herself."
"She's helping the Emperor…"
"…pull the rot into the light."
Her fingers rolled the prayer beads.
One.
Then another.
"In my life, I've used many blades."
She paused.
"But this one…"
"…walked onto the edge herself."
It sounded like praise.
And yet—
like a quiet farewell.
Three Days Later · Fengyi Palace
The Empress shattered a teacup.
Porcelain exploded across the floor.
"A kitchen servant?!"
"A woman who clawed her way up from the stoves?!"
"And she dares interfere with the Inner Supply?!"
Her attendant lowered her voice:
"Your Majesty… the Emperor has already named her."
"If we confront her directly…"
The Empress let out a cold laugh.
"Then we don't confront her."
"We change methods."
That very evening—
a secret decree slipped quietly out of Fengyi Palace.
It did not target Qing Tian's life.
It targeted her people.
Imperial Kitchen.
Shangshi Bureau.
Inner Supply Office.
Anyone who had grown close to Qing Tian in the past six months—
was reassigned.
Interrogated.
Or "otherwise arranged."
The cruelest move.
Not killing you—
but cutting off your roots.
But the Empress underestimated one thing.
People remember—
who let them eat.
In recent years, the Empress had spent most of her time in temples,
under the pretense of prayer and recovery.
Too many things in the palace—
had already slipped beyond her awareness.
That Night · Tingyu Pavilion
When the first batch of transfer orders arrived—
the Imperial Kitchen did not descend into chaos.
It became—
terrifyingly quiet.
Outside Qing Tian's residence—
a row of people knelt.
Old vegetable washers.
Grain carriers.
Fire tenders.
Rough-handed maids.
No one cried.
No one begged.
They simply bowed.
In unison.
"Director Qing…"
"We won't go."
Qing Tian stood beneath the corridor.
Her throat tightened.
"These are official orders."
"If you defy them—"
"You'll die."
A frail old eunuch looked up.
His voice hoarse.
"Then before we die…"
"…we'll make sure they know—"
"…how our grain disappeared."
He pulled out a tattered ledger.
The pages worn.
Edges frayed.
"Night transport times."
"Crate substitutions."
"Signatures."
Not one person.
A group.
They had been recording this—
in secret—
for half a year.
At that moment—
Qing Tian understood.
This was no longer her battlefield alone.
The Next Morning · After Court
An imperial decree was issued.
"Personnel assigned to the Food Bureau…"
"…may not be reassigned without my approval."
Fengyi Palace fell silent.
This was the Emperor—
openly shielding her.
Imperial Study
Qing Tian was summoned.
She had just knelt—
when the Emperor raised a hand.
"No need."
The first time.
He looked at her.
"They stepped forward on their own."
Not a question.
A confirmation.
Qing Tian lowered her voice.
"Yes."
He nodded.
"Then continue."
"I'll cover for you."
He paused.
Then added—
quietly:
"Sometimes…"
"…you don't have to hold back anymore."
That sentence—
weighed more than any decree.
That Night
The deepest archive of the Inner Supply Bureau—
was delivered to the Imperial Study.
The cover was worn.
Yellowed with age.
Only four words were written on it:
"Imperial Supplies of the Late Emperor."
Tang Yi opened it.
On the very first page—
his fingers paused.
A name.
Not the Empress.
Not the Empress Dowager.
But—
the one who truly controlled the grain—
during the late Emperor's reign.
He closed the file.
His gaze darkened.
"So that's how it is."