Honestly, I felt her whole arc was more about disillusionment than empowerment, which is way more interesting. She starts out as this sort of romantic idealist, navigating palace intrigue with a kind of naive hope that her wit and lineage will protect her. The turning point for me was the whole subplot with the court poet—she genuinely believes she's fostering art, but it becomes clear she's just another piece on the board, and her patronage is being used to undermine her. The evolution isn't a straight line upward; she becomes sharper, yes, but also more isolated and cynical. You see her making colder calculations by the end, sacrificing a friendship to secure a political alliance that she knows is fragile. It's less a triumphant rise and more a survival adaptation, which felt brutally real for the setting.
What stayed with me was her final scene, refusing to attend the spring festival. It's not a grand protest, just this quiet, weary withdrawal. She's won her little corner of safety, but at the cost of the vibrant curiosity she had at the start. The author doesn't sugarcoat it—her 'evolution' leaves her with this hollowed-out sort of wisdom.