Yunxiu was utterly startled, her fingers trembling slightly where they rested on her lap. She never expected that the one soothing her shoulders with a massage would actually be the Emperor himself. The dark undertone in his voice was unmistakable, and even without looking, she could imagine his expression—undoubtedly a mix of anger and embarrassment, with the latter prevailing.
Suppressing the urge to turn around, she thought to herself that speaking too much would only invite trouble. Her usual vigilance had clearly waned, and now she had landed herself in a mess.
That maid Ruizhu—truly, her arms were bent outward, helping the Emperor set a trap for her own mistress! Now that His Majesty had pieced everything together, wouldn’t the Ninth Prince be skinned alive?
The attending palace maids all bowed their heads deeply, while Liang Jiugong sighed inwardly. The Emperor had forbidden any announcement of his arrival and even dismissed Ruizhu to stand three zhang away. Originally, he had intended to surprise Noble Consort Yi, seeing how exhausted she was—but who knew the surprise would turn out to be far too overwhelming?
Heavens above! Though Liang Jiugong didn’t know the exact contents of the "Imperial Instructions," he had a vague understanding. These were methods the Crown Prince had begged His Majesty for—using five policy essays—just to please his future Crown Princess. And now? All the princes knew about it, and worse, there was a risk of the secret spreading beyond the palace. How could the Emperor’s dignity withstand such a blow?
"Your Majesty’s arrival was unforeseen—this humble consort has been remiss in etiquette," Yunxiu said swiftly, her thoughts racing. She reached out with slightly chilled fingers, gently covering the large hand on her shoulder before subtly clasping it. Raising her eyes to meet Kangxi’s gaze, she continued, "As for the matter of the Imperial Instructions… Your Majesty need not worry. They all know their limits. This consort will discipline the children properly and have the Ninth Prince come to beg for forgiveness."
Her peach-blossom eyes glistened, and her tone was soft and tender, like the budding willow leaves in the depths of winter, gently soothing the Emperor’s sudden surge of fury. When Kangxi looked down and realized Yunxiu was holding his hand, his temper smoothed over instantly, the anger dissipating before it could fully take hold.
Look at this—the moment she acted coquettishly, he was rendered helpless. Normally, her sharp tongue left no one unscathed, and not a soul in the palace dared provoke her. Just the other day, she had left him speechless in an argument!
Yet, he couldn’t resist this side of her.
Kangxi, skilled in archery and horseback riding, had maintained his martial prowess over the years, leaving his body naturally warm. Feeling the chill on her fingers, he immediately tightened his grip, a sweetness rising in his heart that soon turned into a faint sourness.
Such initiative from her was rare—and today, it was all to shield that rascal Yintang, using retreat as a means to advance and plead for leniency. He gave an indifferent hum, which Noble Consort Yi took as a sign to redouble her gentle attentions, even offering a priceless shoulder massage—until her own arms ached from the effort.
One was thinking, I must work harder to appease His Majesty’s anger, while the other schemed about how to secure future benefits.
After sharing lunch with Noble Consort Yi, Kangxi left the Palace of Earthly Tranquility in high spirits—only for his smile to drop the moment he stepped outside.
"Liang Jiugong," he ordered coldly, "investigate who else knows about this."
To borrow the trendy phrase from time travelers: It’s time to interrogate all involved parties.
On the first day of the Lunar New Year, a row of princes knelt in the imperial study.
Holidays from the Imperial Academy were rare, granted only during major festivals or birthdays. The New Year’s Eve banquet had been filled with fireworks, red envelopes, and the tradition of staying up late to welcome the new year. Best of all, there was no school the next day, and even the strict elders and governesses had relaxed their discipline.
Except for the Eldest Brother Yinti, who had to accompany his wife Eldest Sister-in-law Lin in observing the New Year’s Eve customs, and Crown Prince Yinreng, who had to maintain his dignified image, the other princes had gathered together—even the usually timid Seventh Prince had thrown himself into the revelry.
At the grand feast, the Third Prince swayed drunkenly before collapsing, while the Fourth Prince was coaxed into drinking by Prince Rong. The Ninth Prince, mischief in his eyes, had darted over with a wine jug, only to be seized by his Fourth Elder Brother, who clung to him, slurring, "Baixue, don’t go—" followed by, "No fur left… hic… Yintang cut it all off again. Don’t worry, Father will avenge you."
The Fifth Prince spat out his wine, while the Tenth Prince slapped his thigh, roaring with laughter. The Eighth Prince, seeing the chaos, stepped forward to mediate—only to be scolded by the Fourth Prince, who grumbled, "Eighth Brother, why are you so nagging? Are you trying to steal Baixue from me?"
The Eighth Prince, indignant, turned to the still-laughing Yin'e to complain, much to the latter’s dismay.
Where is my smooth-talking Eighth Brother?
If you’re this meddlesome, even the Court of Colonial Affairs won’t take you in the future!
Only the Eleventh Prince remained well-behaved, nestled in the Fifth Prince’s arms, watching the commotion with wide, dark eyes. Occasionally, when the play grew too rowdy, Yinzi would hop down and hide the wine jugs and cups, earning fond smiles from the two Dowager Empresses and softening Kangxi’s heart. Little Eleventh is truly the last pure soul in this palace.
By the end of the banquet, the princes had been carried back to the princes’ quarters in various states of disarray, collapsing into deep slumber the moment they touched their pillows.
When Kangxi summoned them at noon the next day, their courtyards were thrown into chaos. The Fifth Prince, the Eighth Prince, the Ninth Prince, and the Tenth Prince were all dragged from their beds, their minds still foggy with sleep. By the time they regained their senses, they found themselves kneeling in the imperial study.
Yinqi, Yin Si, Yintang, and Yin'e: "…"
Investigating the matter wasn’t difficult. Liang Jiugong worked with swift efficiency—starting with Yintang’s attendant Xiaogouzi, applying a mix of threats and incentives, and within an hour, the full report lay before Kangxi.
Standing with his hands behind his back, Kangxi’s eyes darkened in disbelief. He never expected that even Yin Si would be involved. If the Crown Prince hadn’t been occupied with sacrificial rites, he, too, would have been kneeling here in reflection.
The Ninth Prince was utterly baffled when Kangxi asked in a low voice, "Yin Si, did you seek out the Imperial Instructions yourself, or did Yintang force them upon you?"
The brothers all thought the same two words: We’re doomed.
Yintang gnashed his teeth inwardly. Who leaked this? Damn that bastard—I’m finished.
After the initial panic, a complicated feeling settled in. Whether it was due to his mother’s influence, the Eighth Prince was nothing like his past self. Having returned to Consort Liang’s care in his youth, he had grown far more spirited than Yintang remembered.
His appearance was still the same—at nearly ten years old, he was already showing signs of becoming a handsome and gentle young man—but…
His tendency to nag was one thing, but his fascination with secrets and uncanny ability to sniff them out was another. Somehow, he had caught wind of the Imperial Instructions and, like a cat drawn to fish, had shyly approached Yintang.
In a small, hopeful voice, he had asked, "Ninth Brother… do you know what the Imperial Instructions say?"
Yintang was momentarily thrown into self-doubt.
It was the Fifth Prince, who had "accidentally glimpsed the divine secrets," who could barely contain his excitement and eagerly whispered to Yin Si after swearing him to secrecy: "It’s His Majesty’s advice to Second Elder Brother on how to please his future wife! It’s incredibly effective!"
The Eighth Prince’s jaw dropped. After a long moment of stunned silence, his face turned as red as a monkey’s bottom.
His Majesty is so… skilled!
But now, kneeling in the imperial study under Kangxi’s questioning gaze, Yin Si couldn’t muster a smile. He hung his head, silent for a long while.
Beside him, Yintang’s heart pounded. From now on, I’ll call you Eighth Brother every day—no more "Eighth Prince." It was Fifth Prince who told you, not me!
The Fifth Prince, equally nervous, chanted inwardly: Eighth Brother is a good child, Eighth Brother is a good child…
The Tenth Prince glanced left and right before adopting an expression of perfect innocence, looking as docile as could be.
Yin Si fell silent for a moment, suppressing his unease before speaking slowly, "Imperial Father, it was I who took the initiative to inquire. I wish to take a wife. In my dreams, I have imagined that when I grow older, I would share a harmonious and loving life with my consort, just as the Book of Songs describes: 'With lutes in harmony, all is tranquil and fair.' This is what I long for. Yet I fear my words may be clumsy and my care insufficient, following the missteps of Eldest Brother. Thus, I sought to study the sacred teachings, as the Book of Rites instructs."
Yinqi, Yintang, and Yin'e were nearly dizzy from his recitation. Finally snapping out of their daze, they thought to themselves—brilliant, absolutely brilliant! Being fussy had its advantages; using marriage as an excuse was sheer genius.
Though he was still rather young, that wasn’t really an issue.
Kangxi, too, found himself with a headache from the speech.
Such skill in argumentation—who taught him this?
Repeatedly calling himself "your son," weaving in classical references with every sentence, and delivering it all in that unhurried tone—if this went on any longer, one might achieve inner peace and renounce the world for monastic life.
His anger dissipated entirely. He mused that the Eighth Prince’s obedience, second only to Little Seven and Little Eleventh, had all been an illusion.
Why did I have to torment myself like this? Wouldn’t it have been better to punish him outright?
"Fetch the ruler," the Emperor interrupted the Eighth Prince’s speech, his tone indifferent. Then, with a light glance at the true culprit, the Ninth Prince, he added, "Remove your undergarments. I will discipline you myself."
Yintang’s eyes widened in shock, and he nearly collapsed from his kneeling position.
Not long ago, he had gone to great lengths to win over Eldest Sister-in-law Lin’s trust and had incidentally learned that Eldest Brother constantly dwelled on the sacred teachings. Naturally, curiosity got the better of him.
To crush Eldest Brother’s ambitions for the throne, he and the Tenth Prince had devised a meticulous plan.
The sacred teachings were not for just anyone’s eyes—only the Crown Prince could inherit the Emperor’s will. Eldest Brother’s rebellious intent was practically laid bare. If they secretly copied a volume and conspicuously placed it on Eldest Brother’s desk, forcing him into a corner where he couldn’t defend himself, his ambitions would be exposed, provoking the Emperor’s wrath.
Even if they failed, it would still sow seeds of suspicion in Kangxi’s mind.
Who could have guessed it would backfire, ruining their plan halfway through?
Who would’ve thought the contents would be like this?
Yintang was instantly furious.
Resentfully, he thought, "So this is how the old man sweet-talked Noble Consort Yi into unwavering devotion—utterly shameless! What use are honeyed words? Can they put silver in a consort’s hands? There’s nothing practical about them."
Yet Second Elder Brother treated them as gospel, filling pages with notes and guarding them like treasure, afraid others might steal his insights. At this thought, Yintang’s heart lurched, and he forgot to worry about his own backside.
What if Second Elder Brother returned to the palace?
Kangxi, of course, had no idea what Yintang was thinking. He shifted his gaze to the others, his phoenix eyes stern. "The three of you will watch the punishment closely. No pleading for leniency."
Yunxiu must also be kept in the dark. With that, he called calmly, "Liang Jiugong." The latter understood immediately, closing the palace doors and standing straight-backed, sleeves tucked, ensuring no sound escaped.
Glancing up at the overcast sky, the Chief Eunuch suddenly felt a wave of emotion.
Though venting his anger on the children had brought some relief, the Emperor’s dignity was still lost, and his authority in the eyes of the princes had greatly diminished.
Yet a faint smile touched his lips. They said the imperial family was heartless, but the Ninth Prince’s repeated antics might not be entirely a bad thing.
Liang Jiugong was far too shrewd—he had long noticed Yintang’s awkwardness toward the Fourth and Eighth Princes.
Though he didn’t know the reason, this series of incidents had dissolved their estrangement, uniting the brothers in harmony. Even the Emperor had softened into a more paternal figure, though it meant more work—something the Empress Dowager would surely welcome.
Sighing, he shook his head. The only pity was the Ninth Prince’s impending suffering.
