Continuing to listen, Grand Imperial Physician Chen truly felt he might shorten his own lifespan. Seizing the moment while the Emperor was still stunned, he hastily raised his old arms and legs, bowed pitifully, and retreated like a gust of wind. Watching Kangxi’s smile drop abruptly, Yunxiu snapped out of her reverie, suddenly realizing what she had just said.
How had she let her true feelings slip out?
She curtsied softly and said, "This concubine spoke out of turn. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness."
Then she added, "Your Majesty is in the prime of life, and this concubine is not much younger than you." As she spoke, she lifted her gaze to Kangxi, her cheeks flushing slightly. "It’s just that thinking of the Eldest Prince’s Second Princess, I couldn’t help but feel a little sentimental."
Her peach-blossom eyes shimmered with rippling light, brimming with fragmented amusement, clearly embodying the words "fearless and unrepentant."
Indeed, with a protective talisman in her belly, what could the Emperor possibly do to her?
Kangxi coughed lightly, his expression gradually softening. So, Noble Consort Yi’s melancholy was about this. He truly had no way to deal with her. Sighing helplessly in his heart, his phoenix eyes slowly curved into a smile as he took Yunxiu’s hand again, feigning sternness. "Being of similar age but different generations is quite common. What is there to lament? You ought to be happy. I find Yinti and the others tiresome, and the Ninth Prince spends his days chasing cats and teasing dogs. I only hope you’ll give birth to a little princess, as sweet and well-behaved as Yinzi, so she can play with the Eldest Prince’s children."
The Emperor’s attempt to change the subject was rather clumsy, and his stern face held little intimidation. Yunxiu pretended not to notice, smiling as she played along. "As Your Majesty says, this concubine also hopes for the same."
This time, she spoke sincerely. With three princes already under her care and endless worries for the Crown Prince, Yunxiu thought to herself that having a daughter would be wonderful. If she were as considerate as Yierha, even her dreams at night would be sweet.
However…
After a moment of hesitation, Noble Consort Yi touched her belly. "Lately, my appetite has been excellent, with no signs of morning sickness. Do you think she might become the most voracious among her siblings, to the point where even the imperial treasury can’t keep up?"
They say childhood habits predict adulthood—what if she grew into a little glutton? For a boy, it wouldn’t matter much, as the wet nurses and palace maids would surely restrain him from overeating. But for a girl, Yunxiu would never allow the servants to overstep and make decisions for their mistress. Yet if left unchecked, wouldn’t her daughter become a permanent fixture in the kitchens?
Yierha had been strong-willed since childhood, and her attendants, knowing better than to overstep, never dared to discipline her too harshly. Yunxiu found this arrangement effortless. Royal princesses were all pampered, and strong personalities like Rongxian and Yierha were common. But if this little glutton were indulged without restraint…
Though princesses need not worry about marriage, if she were sent to Mongolia for a political alliance, how would she even mount a horse?
Noble Consort Yi remained expressionless, her thoughts stretching far into the future.
Hearing this, Kangxi’s lips twitched. "The imperial treasury can’t keep up? Just how much could she possibly eat?"
"My treasury is not lacking in silver," he said stiffly, his brows furrowed in disapproval. "A hearty appetite is a blessing. What kind of mother dislikes her own daughter for eating well?"
The daughter wasn’t even born yet, and already, the Emperor and Noble Consort Yi had reached an unprecedented disagreement—one insisting that eating well was a blessing, the other arguing that a young lady with too large an appetite was hardly ideal. Liang Jiugong felt utterly exhausted, fearing he might be caught in the crossfire. With a weary expression, he cautiously inched backward, sighing inwardly. Grand Imperial Physician Chen, that old fox, truly was a wise man.
Before the debate could reach a conclusion, Kangxi seemed to recall something and abruptly stopped arguing. He smoothly shifted the topic, turning to admonish Ruizhu and the others, repeatedly stressing that Noble Consort Yi must never skimp on meals, lest she starve herself—and the child.
Ruizhu hurriedly bowed in acknowledgment.
Seeing that it was still early and there were many memorials awaiting his attention in the study, the Emperor prepared to leave. Before departing, he smiled faintly and said, "Yunxiu, set your heart at ease. Even if you grow plump, I will never find you unappealing."
The attending palace maids all lowered their heads, the beaded curtains swaying slightly. It took Yunxiu a long moment to process what "grow plump" meant.
Her cheeks flushed again. Was the Emperor not afraid of setting a bad example?
Hmph. If this consort truly grew plump, you wouldn’t even glance my way. After flipping the green plaque for the Yikun Palace, you’d lie awake all night, wouldn’t you?
Aren’t you afraid of being crushed to illness in the dead of night?
"His Majesty’s affection for you runs deep," Peihuan, the newly promoted chief maid, couldn’t help but gush, her voice dreamy as if intoxicated. To have personally heard the Emperor’s tender words for her mistress—she could die without regrets.
"..." Yunxiu fell silent for a moment before slowly replying, "Peihuan, I promise to arrange a good marriage for you in the future—with an honest and ambitious man."
The news of Noble Consort Yi’s pregnancy after so many years delighted the two Empress Dowagers, and gifts flowed into the Yikun Palace like a river. As for the Qianqing Palace, needless to say, the Emperor personally assigned Grand Imperial Physician Chen—the most skilled in the palace—to oversee her pregnancy, frequently summoning him for updates. His concern was evident.
In the past, the entire Forbidden City would have been steeped in jealousy. But now, those who harbored resentment toward Noble Consort Yi had all been subdued by her, leaving them too dispirited to envy. To vie for favor, one first had to pass the Emperor’s scrutiny; to scheme against her, one had to be prepared for a slap across the face.
Noble Consort Yi enjoyed unparalleled favor, while Noble Consort Wen held authority over the inner court. The two consorts were on excellent terms, rendering attempts to drive a wedge between them futile. The Ninth Prince and the Tenth Prince were inseparable.
Aside from Noble Consort Wen, who could possibly dethrone the mistress of Yikun Palace?
The other consorts had grown numb.
They say no flower blooms forever, and no person remains forever favored—especially in a palace teeming with beauties. High-ranking consorts, though aging, wielded formidable influence, while young, low-ranking ladies enjoyed the Emperor’s fleeting attention. Such was the natural order of the harem. Yet for Noble Consort Yi, this rule seemed nonexistent. The Emperor’s affection only deepened with time.
By next year’s birthday, Noble Consort Yi would be thirty.
The Guoluoluo clan’s beauty outshone the entire harem—this much they conceded. But no matter how kindly time treated her, how could she compare to fresh, delicate young maidens?
Such thoughts, however, were only muttered in the hearts of the palace ladies. Despite Noble Consort Yi’s domineering demeanor, many still clamored to curry favor with Yikun Palace—even the eunuchs and maids found it difficult to secure an opportunity.
Take Consort Cheng of the Lady Daijia, for instance. Once an obscure low-ranking consort, she rose to prominence within a few years, becoming a concubine and then a consort. Who had facilitated her ascent? And who didn’t envy her for it?
The harem had seen no new births for years. As the princes grew older, competing for favor became futile, and the consorts gradually shifted their focus to the imperial sons. Coupled with the recent demotion of Consort Hui, which led to the Eldest Prince’s reprimand, and the absurd scandal of Longkodo seizing his father-in-law’s concubine—they gossiped with relish. Then, suddenly, news broke of Noble Consort Yi’s pregnancy.
For those like Concubine An and Concubine Xi, who bore old grudges against Yunxiu, their emotions were indescribably complex.
Concubine An smiled bitterly. She no longer dared to entertain any schemes.
Those who had previously opposed Noble Consort Yi had all fallen. The former Imperial Noble Consort—no, Consort Tong—now lay eternally beneath the earth. Noble Consort Wuya of Jingqi Pavilion was more tenacious, enduring all these years, clinging to the hope that Prince Rongxian might one day rescue her. Consort Hui was demoted to Concubine Hui, Concubine Xi was slapped across the face, and as for Consort Ping, her fate was even more dire.
Mrs. Hesheli’s decline was evident—frail and sickly, it was uncertain whether she would survive another two years.
Over in her quarters, Concubine Xi subconsciously touched her abdomen, gritting her teeth as she sat in bitter silence through the night.
She was with child again. Heaven was unjust—utterly unjust! Why was Mrs. Guoluoluo’s fortune so smooth? Three princes were not enough—did the Emperor not fear they would form factions and threaten the Crown Prince’s position?
Consort Ping had been bedridden for years, her health wavering without ever truly recovering. Even attending palace banquets was a struggle, requiring every ounce of her strength. A mere bout of cold had drained her vitality completely. The Imperial Household Department, acting on Noble Consort Wen’s orders, had reduced her provisions year after year.
In the palace, fawning over the powerful and trampling the weak had become the norm. Without favor or influence, and with her maternal clan in ruins—her uncle barely able to protect himself—who would spare a thought for a niece so thoroughly ground down?
Consort Ping knew all too well that her illness was inextricably linked to Yikun Palace. Her uncle’s impeachment had been her doing—she had leaked the information. This was Mrs. Guoluoluo’s open retaliation.
Yet, though her heart bled with hatred, there was nothing she could do.
After the Emperor’s return from his southern tour, he had summoned Noble Consort Yi repeatedly. Though she had borne the Eleventh Prince, there were no further signs of pregnancy, and whispers had begun to spread.
Some said Mrs. Guoluoluo’s body was ruined, that she could no longer conceive. The Emperor had ordered the imperial physicians to keep it quiet, but the rumors were detailed and plausible. When Consort Ping accidentally learned of this, she felt a fleeting satisfaction.
But even this small comfort was snatched away today.
Clutching her hands tightly, Consort Ping leaned against her pillow, gasping for breath with a hoarse, rattling sound.
"My lady! My lady!" The chief palace maid, carrying medicine into the inner chamber with a worried expression, nearly lost her soul at the sight. The bowl slipped from her hands, shattering with a loud crash, scattering shards and liquid across the floor and her robes.
The Grand Empress Dowager’s health had deteriorated greatly.
Now, the old matriarch had only one wish left—to see Yinreng married with her own eyes. It was early spring, and the Imperial Household Department, under imperial decree, had begun preparations for the Crown Prince’s grand wedding.
At the end of the 28th year of Kangxi’s reign, Shi Wenbing returned safely to the capital from Fujian. After purifying himself with incense, the father of the future Crown Princess knelt three times and kowtowed nine times before the gates of Qianqing Palace, solemnly receiving the imperial marriage edict. Soon after, the Emperor bestowed another honor: the entire Shi clan of the Guwalgiya lineage, originally of the Han Army’s Plain White Banner, was elevated to the Bordered Yellow Banner. The clan’s leader led the family in gratitude for the imperial grace.
Soon, the Eastern Palace would welcome its new mistress.
Though the Crown Prince had already begun attending court and no longer studied with his younger brothers at the imperial academy, he could not neglect his martial training.
He Zhuer watched helplessly as his master trained harder and longer, lately burying himself in the drill grounds of Yuqing Palace until he was drenched in sweat. Unable to bear it, he finally urged, "Your Highness, it’s been a full hour. You should rest."
The Crown Prince shot him a glance and waved him off. "I still have strength left. If Jingchu thinks me weak on our wedding night, will you take my place?"
He Zhuer: "..."
