Chapter 122: The Tragedy of Consort Rou
“Oh no, seriously? Did Concubine Rou really die? Or is it just a fake death—a strategy so she’ll pop back up later?” As soon as the TV broadcast ended, someone couldn’t hold back and immediately posted on the website.
“You’re asking about Concubine Rou? Yeah, she’s definitely dead. Everyone saw it happen. If you mean the actress who plays her, she’ll probably appear again later.”
“Wow, the reply above is so powerful and bold.”
“Ahem, isn’t everyone just too emotional right now? Let’s lighten the mood a bit.”
“So you’re saying both Concubine Rou and the Emperor acted so well that I went through an entire box of tissues—like three hundred sheets worth.”
“Uh, the person above, it’s impressive you’re still so lively. Go drink some water quickly!”
“…I just ordered a new bucket…”
It seemed everyone was intentionally avoiding certain topics, still lost in the storyline. It was better to chat about something else first.
Before long, the grieving viewers began pouring out long comments. Gradually, they emerged from their emotional haze and started discussing the ‘Tragedy of Concubine Rou’ and speculating on how the plot would unfold next.
Among these posts, the ones by Glass Cup became increasingly popular: “Although it’s unfortunate, we have to admit Concubine Rou isn’t the protagonist of ‘Empire’s Glory.’ From her initial brilliance, it was destined that she would have such a heartbreaking end.”
“Based on the earlier episodes, Concubine Rou had to die. The new Emperor ascended the throne, the Empress’s family rose to power, dominating the court. This time, with the Empress’s clan leading the plot against Concubine Rou, it was a direct challenge to imperial authority. Why did they scheme against her? Because a mere noble consort had given birth to a prince. Her status soared overnight—from a mere noble consort to one of the four favored consorts—a coveted position that many coveted.”
“This, of course, was the Emperor’s mistake. He thought he could protect Concubine Rou, but he didn’t expect someone to blatantly plot against her. Moreover, some sensed the Emperor’s affection for Rou and viewed her as too great a threat. They believed that if they acted together, no one would be held accountable. After all, the Emperor wouldn’t destroy all his foundations for just one woman.”
“Because of this, the Emperor was left with no choice. Concubine Rou knew she was trapped in a death sentence. Yet no one expected her to willingly face death. Before the plot could unfold, she took the initiative, using the simplest and most direct method—sacrificing herself to buy the Emperor a chance to extricate himself. This gave him an excuse to depose the Empress, curb her family’s power, and reclaim more control. The political landscape instantly shifted.”
“Also, the Emperor’s character changed. The new Emperor was once somewhat soft-hearted, but Concubine Rou’s death hardened him. His words about wanting to annihilate the Empress’s entire family when the opportunity arose made that clear. Earlier, when he first ascended, he wouldn’t have been so ruthless; otherwise, he wouldn’t have spared his enemies at the start.”
“Finally, this new order meant the Empress’s family lost power, allowing another faction to rise—one that would inevitably involve the harem. With the Empress’s position vacant, the concubines would fiercely vie for it. One of the four favored consorts’ seats was also open, leading to mutual checks and schemes. But for the Emperor, this was good news: as they restrained each other, he gained more time to consolidate his own power. The situation looked promising. The Emperor was about to unleash his might and truly become the sovereign of the realm…”
“Wow, Glass Cup’s insightful analysis really sees through everything. I just watched the show casually, never realizing there was so much beneath the surface. Tsk tsk, I’ve learned a lot.” As soon as the post appeared, some began to praise it, and the gloomy mood over Concubine Rou’s tragedy lifted considerably.
“Hey, why isn’t Concubine Rou the protagonist?” one netizen lamented.
“Not the protagonist is one thing, but why did she die after just ten episodes? Damn, she must be the earliest to die!” another fan, newly devoted and freshly part of the community, expressed outrage. They’d barely joined, and now Concubine Rou was gone…
“Actually, her early death might not be a bad thing,” another netizen analyzed deeply. “The royal family is ruthless. The bond between the new Emperor and Concubine Rou was strong, forged through hardship, but once the Emperor held power firmly and truly ruled, Concubine Rou might not have been so happy.”
“Hmm, that makes sense. By dying now, Concubine Rou remains forever irreplaceable in the Emperor’s heart. The palace is filled with beauties, generations come and go. Who knows what might have happened if she lived?”
“Exactly. Maybe, as Glass Cup speculated earlier, she didn’t really die but lost favor and the Emperor’s love. That would be even more tragic.”
“Ah, men…”
That day, the topic of Concubine Rou’s tragedy was abuzz, sparking extensive analysis and even discussions about human nature and men’s inherent flaws, leaving many male viewers speechless—they felt unfairly targeted even while just watching.
During these four days of broadcasting, Chu Luoxi also paid close attention. She hadn’t seen a finished version of ‘Empire’s Glory’ before but now found herself drawn in. Compared to her memories from a past life, the new version, especially with the classic portrayal of Concubine Rou, elevated the entire drama’s depth.
If Chu Luoxi remained relatively calm, Zhu Xueshuang and Liu Yujia became die-hard fans of ‘Empire’s Glory.’ They watched every episode on time and frequented forums and fan groups to discuss it. Their enthusiasm made Chu Luoxi wonder if they were enchanted.
This only showed how wildly popular ‘Empire’s Glory’ was—utterly dominating all other interests. Chu Luoxi even felt it was more popular than in her previous life, though she had definitely followed the series before.
No wonder her friend Lan Lun had the foresight to ask her to endorse the show before its broadcast—it was truly visionary.
In just ten episodes over four days, Chu Luoxi’s personal fan community exploded. Especially in her fan forum, the membership, posts, and replies multiplied exponentially overnight, delighting the moderator, Good Fan Tongxue, who was utterly overwhelmed.
This guy was also bragging, claiming he had predicted Chu Luoxi’s rise to fame early on, thus declaring himself her number one fan. Though everyone who entered the forum wanted to ridicule him, Good Fan Tongxue enjoyed it thoroughly.
Most people refused to acknowledge him, believing their beloved Xixi’s number one fan was simply too cringeworthy and embarrassing.