Qianqing Palace, Imperial Study.
The walls were adorned with exquisitely framed Buddhist scriptures, bearing a resemblance to the tribute Noble Consort Yi had presented for the Emperor’s birthday twenty-two years prior, yet distinctly different.
The palace attendants on duty couldn’t quite articulate how they differed. They only knew that Noble Consort Yi had taken the original piece, claiming she would write a better one—and the Emperor had indulged her.
Only her elder brother, Lord Guoluoluo, let out a long sigh of relief. No longer trembling in fear during imperial audiences, his steps even seemed lighter, much to the whispered speculation of the court officials back then.
"It’s rare for the Ninth Prince to anger the Fourth Prince," Liang Jiugong remarked with a smile, bowing slightly as he recounted in vivid detail the commotion that had unfolded in the study hall. "After classes, they took their quarrel to their respective mothers, demanding judgment."
Upon hearing this, Kangxi didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. He calmly set down his vermilion brush and accepted a cup of Biluochun tea brought in by the attendants.
After a sip, he asked, unmoved, "What mischief has Yintang stirred up now?"
Liang Jiugong marveled inwardly—truly, His Majesty and Noble Consort Yi were of one mind. That "now" was particularly apt.
Keeping his thoughts to himself, the chief eunuch lowered his voice. "He played a prank on the Fourth Prince’s Pekingese, smearing ink all over its fur."
Everyone in the palace knew how dearly the Fourth Prince cherished his snow-white Pekingese, named Bai Xue (White Snow). He had personally designed tiny garments and a cozy little bed for it. After lessons, he would often cradle the dog on his lap, lavishing affection upon it—more than he ever showed his own younger brothers.
Attended to by dedicated eunuchs from the kennel and subjected to the Fourth Prince’s endless reminders, Bai Xue was always pristine and sweet-smelling. Never had it suffered such a pitiable state.
Ink-stained, its little bed ruined, and the tidy study hall thrown into disarray, the Fourth Prince’s face had turned ashen in an instant.
Liang Jiugong didn’t know the term "germaphobe," but he could certainly empathize. Just imagining the once-white Pekingese now a sooty mess made him shudder.
Further inquiries revealed that when the Fourth Prince had dragged Yintang back to his quarters, intending to reprimand him, he was met with the sight of a black-and-white, ink-smeared disaster.
After a long silence, the Fourth Prince, heartbroken, had shaved Bai Xue bald.
As Liang Jiugong recounted the scene with dramatic flair, Kangxi’s brow twitched. "He truly suffered for it."
If only such creativity were applied to his studies, would his tutors still be lodging complaints daily?
Among the long line of imperial sons, which one didn’t strive for excellence? Even Yinqi, who had once dragged his feet over reading, had grown diligent with age. But Yintang and Yin'e? No amount of scolding or caning seemed to faze them. Over time, Kangxi had resigned himself to waiting for them to mature, reasoning that they were still young and playful.
In the Emperor’s view, Yin'e’s mischief was entirely Yintang’s influence.
But to punish them harshly…
Noble Consort Yi stood in the way. He had to tread carefully—though such thoughts could never be voiced.
Suppressing his anger, Kangxi reopened a memorial. "Is he still roaming free?"
Seeing the storm brewing in His Majesty’s eyes, Liang Jiugong took a breath and delivered the full report. "Not at all. Noble Consort Yi has punished the Ninth Prince with a hundred pages of calligraphy and handed him over to the Fourth Prince for discipline. She forbade anyone from pleading on his behalf—even you, Your Majesty, and the Crown Prince are to be kept in the dark."
At this, the Emperor’s anger dissipated, replaced by genuine surprise.
As the sovereign, little escaped his notice. While Yuqing Palace might remain oblivious to palace whispers, Qianqing Palace never would. He realized immediately—Xiuxiu was sending him a message: she would not tolerate any leniency toward Yintang.
Still, a hundred pages of calligraphy for a six-year-old? And under the Fourth Prince’s supervision?
"Go to the princes’ quarters discreetly," Kangxi finally said after a long hesitation. "Tell Yinzhen to go easy on him. And… check how Yintang is faring."
Liang Jiugong’s mind supplied four words: Just as expected.
Swallowing his amusement, he replied dutifully, "Your Majesty, Noble Consort Yi has sealed off the courtyard like a fortress. There’s no way for this servant to slip in unnoticed."
No sooner had he gathered this intelligence than a swarm of burly matrons and stout eunuchs descended upon the Fourth Prince’s residence.
The implications made Liang Jiugong shudder. Delivering the Emperor’s orders now would be tantamount to defying Noble Consort Yi.
"..." Kangxi fell silent for a long moment before conceding, "Very well. Yintang deserves this lesson." With a wave, he dismissed Liang Jiugong, lest he further disrupt state affairs.
Liang Jiugong withdrew swiftly—only to return within the time it took an incense stick to burn.
His smile was gone, his expression grave, every movement radiating caution.
Before Kangxi could inquire, he murmured, "Your Majesty, Consort Tong has passed."
The Emperor’s hand jerked, leaving an elongated stroke on the memorial where he had penned "Reviewed."
There was only one Consort Tong in the rear palace—the one residing in Chengqian Palace’s side hall. It had been five or six years since the once-glorious Imperial Noble Consort had been stripped of her title, confined to her sickbed in disgrace.
Most had expected her to succumb within three years, yet she had clung to life, just as the imperial physicians predicted.
Yinzhen had just turned twelve.
Kangxi closed his eyes briefly. "Order the Imperial Household Department to draft a posthumous title. She shall be interred with the rites befitting a consort. Suspend music for three days, and forbid meat in the palace. No need for a vigil… When time permits, I will offer incense myself."
Liang Jiugong acknowledged the command softly.
Given that Consort Tong had died in disgrace, these funeral arrangements were a final concession to the Tong family’s dignity.
Hesitating, the eunuch ventured, "Your Majesty, the pallbearers…" Over the years, the Fourth Prince had attempted to visit Chengqian Palace three times, only to be turned away by the Emperor. Still, it was clear the bond between mother and son lingered.
Kangxi rotated his jade thumb ring slowly. "Let Longkodo handle it."
Consort Tong’s scheme against the Sixth Prince had placed Yinzhen in an impossible position. With her gone, past grievances could be laid to rest. Seeing how close Yinzhen had grown to Concubine Cheng, why subject him to further anguish?
After a pause, he added quietly, "If he visits the memorial hall, do not stop him."
Liang Jiugong accepted the orders with care as the study’s atmosphere grew heavy.
Kangxi and Consort Tong had been cousins by blood, their bond once unbreakable. Yet that deep affection had eroded over time—so much so that he could scarcely recall her face now.
The melancholy passed swiftly.
Years ago, when the Fourth Prince had caught a chill, his condition had worsened inexplicably overnight, his fever raging. The attending physician, Imperial Physician Hu, had detected something amiss—the prince’s illness had been minor, and the prescribed medicine should have taken immediate effect. Exposure to a bit of wind shouldn’t have mattered. But there was a world of difference between natural "wind" chill and deliberate "water" chill.
If foul play was involved, who could have done it? Only the Imperial Noble Consort and her personal maids had been at the prince’s bedside.
Under the watchful eye of the Imperial Noble Consort, if such dark secrets were exposed, not only would he lose his life, but his entire family would perish. Imperial Physician Hu concealed his terror well, yet not long after, Emperor Kangxi unexpectedly punished the Tong family. Colleagues whispered that this consort might never recover from the disgrace.
Tormented by guilt, Imperial Physician Hu finally steeled himself and secretly reported the matter to the Emperor.
Liang Jiugong faintly recalled the Emperor’s terrifying expression after receiving Imperial Physician Hu’s report.
From then on, in Kangxi’s heart, Consort Tong fell even below Noble Consort Wuya of Jingqi Pavilion.
His brief moment of reflection vanished as he suddenly remembered the trouble caused by Yintang. The Emperor chuckled, “His outburst came at an opportune time. It diverted most of Yinzhen’s attention—even if he grieves, he won’t have the leisure for it.”
After a pause, he murmured, “Go to the Princes’ Quarters. Follow Noble Consort Yi’s example and assign more guards to keep Yintang under strict watch.”
News of Consort Tong’s passing arrived without causing a ripple.
The imperial consorts merely sighed a few words—some lamenting how the once-lofty Imperial Noble Consort had become a relic of the past, others smirking in vindication, lighting incense before the Buddha to thank the heavens for justice.
Only the Tong household was draped in mourning.
Mrs. Hesheli, the wife of Tong Guowei, collapsed in tears, while her daughter-in-law and niece, Young Lady Hesheli—now married to Longkodo—rushed to support her.
“Ru Yue is secluded on Mount Wutai, unseen for years, and now Ru Ying is gone—how is this not tearing my heart apart?” The Tong matriarch sobbed hoarsely upon regaining consciousness, her voice raw with grief. “The Emperor is so heartless, he wouldn’t even grant her the posthumous rank of Noble Consort. He withdrew the mourning rites, forbade the princes from escorting her coffin—Heavens, she was his own cousin!”
She pointed accusingly at Tong Guowei, her voice breaking, “As her father, why didn’t you petition against this?”
Then she turned to Longkodo, “And you! Ru Ying never forgot you after entering the palace. Your elder brother shunned politics, content to live freely, but it was your sister who pulled strings to secure resources for you. She even persuaded the family to assign you a post in the Imperial Guard—how else would you have gained the Emperor’s favor, attending him daily? Did you ever plead for her?”
Tong Guowei’s temples had turned gray, aged decades in grief. He averted his gaze and closed his eyes wearily.
Longkodo’s eyes were bloodshot, his fists clenched in silence.
How could he forget his sister’s kindness?
Once the Tong matriarch had exhausted herself with weeping, her temples throbbing as she slumped into sleep, Longkodo wiped his eyes and instructed Young Lady Hesheli to care for her. Then, with heavy steps, he followed Tong Guowei into the study.
“By imperial decree, I am to escort my sister tomorrow,” he rasped, his voice rough as he unclenched his fists, as if drained of all strength.
Tong Guowei nodded wordlessly, studying his son before murmuring, “Such is the Emperor’s magnanimity. He values you more than he ever did me.”
Silence settled over the study once more.
“This morning, while inspecting the mourning hall, I encountered the Fourth Prince paying respects,” Longkodo said, his tone sharpening like an eagle’s gaze. He took a deep breath. “Father, we cannot remain passive. With my sister gone, the thorn in the Emperor’s heart has been plucked.”
With years of familial ties between them, even a sliver of the Emperor’s sorrow could become the Tong family’s opportunity.
His voice dropped to a whisper. Tong Guowei’s expression shifted repeatedly before he finally asked, “What do you intend?”
“My sister was fixated on the Fourth Prince—on securing his future consort—”
Before he could finish, Tong Guowei cut him off with a cold laugh. “Your mother calls him an ingrate. If she knew of this, she’d fight us tooth and nail. Besides, Ru Ying harmed his own brother—how much affection could he possibly hold for our family? Why cling to her obsession?”
Supporting the Fourth Prince would only elevate Concubine Cheng and Lady Daijia—wasn’t that sheer folly?
“Father,” Longkodo snapped, frustration flaring, “do we have a better option now?”
“I’ve discussed this with your uncle. We’ll select a beautiful daughter from the main branch to vie for the position of the Crown Prince’s secondary consort,” Tong Guowei said flatly. “As for the future, we’ll strategize once the princes come of age. Abandon this foolish notion.”
