Under Yinzhen’s piercing gaze, Yin'e, who had scurried away to hide, nearly jumped out of his skin.
In his past life, like Yintang, he had sided with the Eighth Prince and harbored deep resentment toward the man who ultimately emerged victorious. It wasn’t just him—many others shared the sentiment. When the new emperor ascended the throne, chaos erupted in both the court and the inner palace. Consort De, now elevated to Empress Dowager, watched coldly without lifting a finger, while the Fourteenth Prince openly led the opposition. Court officials whispered behind closed doors, speculating whether the new emperor had resorted to underhanded tactics, with Longkodo’s influence swaying the late emperor’s decision.
Though Yin'e was discontent, he didn’t dare make too much noise. Valuing his life, an instinctive wariness made him distance himself from the Eighth Prince’s faction, even attempting to persuade Yintang to do the same.
The Fourth Prince had never been an easy man to deal with—stubborn, vindictive, and growing more intimidating with age. His icy demeanor alone was enough to unsettle anyone. Yin'e still remembered the dread on the officials’ faces when the treasury ran dry and the late emperor assigned Yinzhen to oversee debt collection. Whether it was Tong Guowei or Cao Yin, none escaped his ruthless demands. Even tearful pleas in the Qianqing Palace, with officials begging to keep their positions, fell on deaf ears—the late emperor, in fact, admired his son’s ruthlessness.
If even seasoned ministers trembled before him, how could the younger princes not fear him?
The Ninth Prince muttered under his breath while shaking his leg—Yin'e noticed, of course.
To put it bluntly, the new emperor was not to be trifled with. While the late emperor had ruled with an iron fist, he still left room for mercy, growing softer in his later years. But this one? He spared no one. Traitors and rebels were swiftly eradicated.
Within half a month, Yin'e’s instincts proved correct.
The inner palace ran red with blood as the new emperor purged dissent with thunderous force. The weak-willed quickly fell silent, and Yin'e came to a sobering realization: no matter how capable or virtuous the Eighth Prince was, he could never surpass the legitimacy and authority of the throne.
Before long, the Ninth Prince met his downfall. Even the emperor’s own full brother was imprisoned without hesitation, and the Empress Dowager herself might as well have been under house arrest.
Yin'e, too, endured a period of confinement. From then on, he carried a deep-seated fear of the emperor. During audiences, he played the fool, hoping to be forgotten in some obscure corner.
Only in the dead of night did the Tenth Prince allow himself to grieve, clutching his blankets and weeping.
"Ninth Brother… I couldn’t avenge you. If there’s a next life, let’s be reborn together—somewhere better, where we can trample the Fourth Prince underfoot!"
Who would have thought his offhand wish would come true? After the initial shock, Yin'e was overjoyed.
Though this life’s Fourth Prince seemed more human, and the political landscape had shifted drastically, it didn’t stop him and Yintang from plotting their revenge—albeit discreetly.
Still, facing Yinzhen head-on? Yin'e didn’t dare.
Even at twelve years old, the Fourth Prince was still the Fourth Prince.
So the two brothers devised a plan: Yintang would handle the mischief while Yin'e played the role of the scheming advisor, occasionally shedding crocodile tears for his brother’s misfortunes.
Like when Yintang, foolishly, decided to approach the Crown Prince—only to attract Yinzhen, who had been assigned to oversee his calligraphy practice.
Yin'e shuddered at the thought. Thank heavens it wasn’t him—he’d have died of fright.
Every time he saw Yintang’s expression, as if he’d swallowed a fly, Yin'e felt a pang of sympathy.
The idea to torment Yinzhen’s beloved Pekingese had been his. He’d even gloated over it, shedding a few fake tears for Yintang’s inevitable suffering. But then, shockingly, his usually dim-witted brother suddenly grew clever—hiding behind their cousin Fulu and throwing the blame squarely on Yin'e.
Before he could wipe the smirk off his face, Yin'e found himself staring into Yinzhen’s furious eyes. Instinct took over—his knees hit the ground with a thud.
Yintang: "…"
Fulu: "…"
The other princes: "…"
Even Yinzhen, seething with rage, was momentarily stunned.
He took an involuntary step back, lips parting awkwardly before he managed, "Tenth Brother… I appreciate the sincerity of your apology, but there’s no need for such… grand gestures."
At that, starting with the Fifth Prince, the other princes loosened their grips on Yinzhen, turning away as if they couldn’t bear to watch.
The Fifth Prince coughed. The Seventh Prince studied the ground. The Eighth Prince fixed his gaze on a distant archery target, pretending he’d seen nothing.
In unison, they thought: Was Fourth Brother’s glare really that terrifying? The Ninth Prince hadn’t even flinched, yet the Tenth Prince—
Only then did Yin'e snap out of it, his round face flushing crimson.
Wait a minute—wasn’t he a prince too? His mother was a noble consort! What was there to fear?
Humiliated, he scrambled to his feet, muttering, "My legs went numb."
From behind Fulu, Yintang burst into laughter, shaking like a boiling kettle.
And just like that, the Ninth Prince, who had narrowly escaped punishment, dug his own grave—drawing the wrathful glares of two pairs of eyes.
One pair, narrow and furious. The other, small and practically spitting fire.
Yinzhen’s anger flared anew—the real culprit was still laughing!
Yin'e was even angrier, cheeks burning, eyes dark with resentment.
Then, their shield, Fulu, spoke up: "Perhaps Auntie should settle this."
The Fifth Prince nodded calmly. "A sound suggestion."
As it happened, Yunxiu wasn’t in her palace that afternoon. She had taken her younger sister, Concubine Jing, and invited Concubine Cheng to Yongshou Palace for a game of cards.
Concubine Liang sat beside Noble Consort Wen, offering occasional advice. "This card is excellent."
These days, every three days, Yunxiu and Noble Consort Wen would travel to Changchun Garden at dawn—first to pay respects, then to attend to the Grand Empress Dowager’s health. As high-ranking consorts, they set an example for the palace, easing the emperor’s burdens. Noble Consort Wen, weighed down by palace affairs, had less time to spare, so Yunxiu took on more visits to the garden.
Recently, news had arrived: the Crown Princess’s selection was nearing its conclusion, and with the Eleventh Prince’s comforting presence, the Grand Empress Dowager’s health had improved remarkably. Now able to speak, the elderly lady pitied the two noble consorts for their exhausting trips and sent word for them to rest.
Emperor Kangxi, overjoyed, rewarded Yongshou and the other palaces generously.
With the emperor’s approval, the entire palace obeyed the Grand Empress Dowager’s wishes. Heartened by the good news, the two noble consorts seized the chance to relax, chatting idly over delicate pastries and fruit drinks.
A gentle breeze drifted through the windows, carrying the scent of blooming flowers.
As Concubine Liang spoke, Noble Consort Wen nodded and played the suggested card. Softly, she asked, "Do we know which noble family the Crown Princess will be chosen from?"
While Consort Hui might still scheme if the selection remained undecided, Noble Consort Wen thought differently.
Given how much the Emperor treasures the Crown Prince, the candidate for his consort must have already been decided, bypassing the selection process entirely.
Concubine Cheng laughed, "The Emperor keeps it hidden from us, but surely he can't hide it from Lady Yi?"
"You've all misunderstood," Yunxiu replied with a faint smile, her attention fixed on the cards in her hand. "The Emperor has kept it tightly under wraps even from me, only saying that he’ll invite the girl to the palace someday so we can take a look."
Concubine Jing was astonished. "There’s really a chosen candidate? That’s extraordinary."
Just as the topic of the Crown Prince’s marriage was brought up, a flurry of reports came in—led by the Fourth Prince, followed by the Fifth Prince all the way to the Tenth Prince—all demanding that Noble Consort Yi mediate their dispute.
Mediate?
Was this a miscommunication?
Yunxiu paused and glanced at the sky. At this hour, they should have just finished their studies.
"Let them in," Noble Consort Wen said with a smile before Yunxiu could speak.
And so, Yintang, who had provoked the collective anger of his brothers, was pushed to the front.
Fulu, with an animated expression, explained the whole story. Once the ladies understood the quarrel, they found it both amusing and exasperating. Aside from the trouble he had stirred up, it was a classic case of kicking someone when they were down.
Yunxiu remained silent in thought, while Noble Consort Wen shot a fierce glare at Yin'e.
Yin'e shuddered under his mother’s glare. After his initial fury, a wave of sorrow washed over him. What kind of luck did Ninth Older brother have in this life? In their past life, he had been neglected by their father and brothers, with only Mother Yi doting on him like he was her own flesh and blood. But now? Not only did the Crown Prince favor him, even his own mother’s heart had tilted entirely in his direction!
The Tenth Prince snorted through his nose. Just because his eyes were bigger than mine?
Concubine Cheng coughed lightly and said disapprovingly to Yinzhen, "Your Ninth Younger Brother is still young—only six years old. For an older brother to demand justice from him like this, isn’t that just bullying?"
"..." Only then did Yinzhen realize that the infuriating little brother who had nearly driven him to the brink of madness was, in fact, just six years old.
But he showed no remorse, unlike the Tenth Prince, whose apology had been sincere. He deserved to be taught a lesson. Yinzhen had been too angry to consider that Ninth Younger Brother was Noble Consort Yi’s son. Now, looking back, he realized he had acted impulsively.
While teaching him calligraphy, Yintang had been endlessly noisy, constantly boasting about how well Mother Yi treated him—how she never scolded him harshly, let alone punished him.
And then there was the Crown Prince, who was fiercely protective of him.
At this thought, Yinzhen grew uneasy and sighed inwardly. He had indeed acted rashly.
Meanwhile, unnoticed by the others, Yintang leisurely stuck his tongue out at Yinzhen.
Since his rebirth, Yunxiu had never punished him—not even when he ranked last in his studies.
Seeing Noble Consort Yi slightly furrow her delicate brows, Yintang felt assured of victory, his unease vanishing. Mother still dotes on me.
But in the next moment, Yunxiu’s soft voice rang out. "Concubine Cheng, you’re overstating things. What does age have to do with it? The Fourth Prince is right—Yintang has been utterly unruly. If he isn’t disciplined now, he’ll grow even more audacious."
At these words, the smile vanished from Yintang’s round, dumpling-like face.
The Tenth Prince gaped as if he had seen a ghost. The Fourth Prince could hardly believe his ears.
After his initial shock, Yinzhen was deeply moved. This noble consort was truly fair-minded!
"I think he needs a good lesson. Aside from writing a hundred sheets of calligraphy, I’ll leave his discipline to you. What do you think?" Yunxiu continued gently. "Scold him if you must, punish him if you see fit. If he cries and threatens to complain to the Emperor, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry."
Noble Consort Wen and Concubine Cheng were both stunned, their eyes widening.
This meant he could discipline Yintang as he pleased—without fear of the Emperor or the Crown Prince receiving tearful pleas for help.
Now it was Yinzhen’s turn to be overwhelmed.
Despite his surprise, he couldn’t help wondering—was Ninth Younger Brother even Noble Consort Yi’s real son?
A moment later, glancing at Yintang’s dumbfounded expression, the corners of his lips curled into a rare, barely perceptible smile.
Then, composing himself, he bowed solemnly. "Thank you for your trust, Noble Consort Yi. Yinzhen accepts this duty."
In Yuqing Palace, the Crown Prince—who had seemingly set his younger brother up for trouble but was actually hoping for his improvement—remained unaware that Yintang had now fallen into the clutches of a merciless disciplinarian, doomed to suffer.
After calmly writing a few sheets of calligraphy, he set down his brush and sighed to He Zhuer. "Eldest Brother wants the Imperial Eldest Grandson, and so do I."
Without even being married yet, the Crown Prince was already thinking far ahead. Once he had an heir with his future consort, he’d love to see Consort Hui and Eldest Brother seething with envy.
But truthfully, he wasn’t just eager for a wife. The real reason was—
The Crown Prince’s heart ached with bitterness. "Ninth Prince grew up under my watch, yet he’s so close to his eldest sister-in-law. I simply can’t stand it."
Then, masking his solemn expression, he smiled faintly. "But if he switches to his second sister-in-law doting on him, that would be just perfect."
