About two months ago, fifty strokes of the rod at the foot of the imperial city nearly sent Longkodo to the afterlife. Kangxi had forbidden the Tong Family from aiding him, and the only ones who cared for him—Tong Guowei and Lady Tong—had both fallen ill. The rest of the clan despised him to the bone, and though Tong Guogang felt uneasy, he dared not defy the imperial decree, leaving Longkodo to fend for himself.
Fortunately, Longkodo had trained in martial arts since childhood, forging a robust physique that allowed him to survive after being rescued. Yet his legs were nearly crippled—walking was agonizing, and rainy days brought torment akin to torture.
Only bone-deep hatred kept him going.
The mere thought of the chaos in Yuqing Palace filled Longkodo with exhilaration. Unwilling to engage with the group in the pavilion, he slowly hobbled on his crutch toward the dilapidated eastern wing.
Watching his retreating figure, Chunlan suddenly recalled the insult "ignorant fool" and fumed, "Aunt Qin, why does the sect leader value him so much?"
Even if he had some ability, he was still young, with no influence in court—merely relying on his family's prestige in the past. Perhaps he had some connections with the imperial guards, but what use was that if he couldn’t even enter the palace?
As if reading her thoughts, the older woman—Aunt Qin—smiled. "A proud stray dog, when tamed, becomes an unexpected weapon. The sect leader values him not just for himself, but for the Tongjia clan, the Emperor’s maternal family. After all these years, among the Manchu Eight Banners' high officials, we’ve finally found a crack."
A refined man chimed in disapprovingly, "No wonder the sect leader favors him. Longkodo served the Emperor for years—he knows the Forbidden City’s layout like the back of his hand and has some knowledge of the capital’s military defenses. Now that he’s sincerely joined us, we must treat him with respect. Chunlan, you’ve gone too far."
Chunlan flushed with shame, clasped her hands, and bowed her head. "Yes, I was wrong."
Meanwhile, in Zhongcui Palace.
The candle sputtered—another sleepless night. Consort Rong, Lady Majia, dismissed her attendants and removed her hairpins. Pausing with the wooden comb in hand, she studied her reflection in the bronze mirror.
Freckles dotted her cheeks, her eye sockets slightly sunken, and deep wrinkles appeared when she smiled. After a long silence, she turned away and picked up the jade cream from the dressing table, applying it meticulously.
Never before had she felt the passage of time so starkly—youth had slipped away, leaving no trace. Even Imperial Physician Min’s jade cream seemed ineffective now.
Noble Consort Wen and Noble Consort Yi were younger, and she could never compare to someone like Mrs. Guoluoluo in beauty. But when paying respects to the Empress Dowager the other day, the Emperor arrived with his sons, and she realized—she looked older than the Emperor himself.
The shock hit her like a tidal wave, shattering her calm.
Suddenly, she found it all absurd—not out of reverence for the Emperor, nor jealousy.
Years ago, losing four sons in succession had hollowed her out. She had prayed daily at the Buddha’s feet, begging for their rebirth into good families. After years of seclusion, she no longer cared about favor or neglect. How many times had the Emperor visited Zhongcui Palace since Yin Zhi moved to the princes' quarters?
She turned to Buddhism for blessings and peace. After vengeance was exacted, she thought her obsessions had faded—only to realize now, with bitter irony, that they hadn’t.
Her heart had never known peace.
Withdrawal couldn’t bring Chengrui and the others back. Passivity only made her prey. Though she harbored hope, Consort Rong was clear-eyed—Yin Zhi’s chances of succession were slim. Without favor or power, how could he compete? The Emperor’s affection for him paled beside the Crown Prince’s, even the Ninth Prince’s.
If the Crown Prince fell, what hope did Yin Zhi have?
Should the Crown Prince ascend, he’d favor the Fourth and Fifth Princes. Even if Yin Zhi sided with him, her warnings had kept him aloof—respectful but distant.
The difference between a father’s reign and a half-brother’s was night and day.
Yin Zhi would spend his life bowing to others, just as she had—first to Empress Renxiao, then Empress Xiaozhao, the Imperial Noble Consort, Noble Consort Wen, and Noble Consort Yi.
She would wither away without ever receiving the bows of noblewomen, never like Mrs. Guoluoluo, whom the Emperor broke protocol to take to Yuqing Palace.
This cycle of fate, repeated endlessly, was the cruelest jest.
Her only daughter was soon to marry into Mongolia, never to be seen again. The Third Princess was betrothed to the Kharchin tribe, while Concubine Jing’s Fourth Princess might stay in the capital—the Empress Dowager seemed inclined to keep her.
By the Buddha, that must not happen.
"Twenty years in the palace, and I’ve aged so much," she murmured, tracing the mirror with cold eyes before snapping them open. "Erase all traces of our involvement."
Earlier, she’d dismissed her attendants, leaving only Nanny Wusu, who’d served her since childhood. The nanny whispered, "It’s done, Your Highness. Longkodo will never trace it back to you."
"Good." Consort Rong toyed with her prayer beads, her lips quirking. "Mrs. Tongjia, even in death, left her dear brother connections in Yuqing Palace. Such sibling devotion."
Before Nanny Wusu could respond, her gaze turned distant, her voice almost tender. "Little Eleventh—who could dislike him? I adored him too."
She’d never held a grudge against Noble Consort Yi.
But after the Imperial Noble Consort and Consort Hui fell, vengeance left her hollow. Scheming became an addiction she couldn’t quit. And Noble Consort Yi had openly backed the Crown Prince...
Longkodo targeted the innocent Yinzi, while she pulled strings from the shadows—a sin worthy of the deepest hell. She’d bear it gladly. For Yin Zhi, for herself, nothing was off-limits.
"Tomorrow, after paying respects, I’ll recite sutras for his soul. Atonement, of sorts." Then her eyes sharpened. "Wait—something’s wrong."
Nanny Wusu tensed. "Your Highness?"
The eastern palaces were eerily quiet. Consort Rong’s expression darkened. With Little Eleventh’s death coinciding with the Crown Prince’s wedding, the palace should be in chaos. The Emperor, grieving, should’ve ordered arrests—why was there no news?
It was time to retire, yet—
Consort Rong’s voice was thick with disbelief. "We failed."
The next day, the newlywed Crown Prince and his bride came to pay respects.
Preoccupied, Consort Rong rose early but didn’t forget gifts. As her palanquin passed through the palace gates, everything seemed orderly—as if last night’s "operation" had left no mark.
Perhaps fate intervened—Chunlin might’ve failed to reach Little Eleventh. Soon, her palanquin halted at Cining Palace.
She wasn’t the first to arrive.
A consort’s phoenix carriage stood in the courtyard—was it the Niuhuru or Guoluoluo clan?
With these thoughts in mind, Consort Rong raised a gentle, benevolent smile. Welcomed into the main hall by palace attendants, her suspicions were soon confirmed. Noble Consort Yi sat beside the two Empress Dowagers, speaking of something that made the Grand Empress Dowager frown one moment and relax the next, her face flushing with unmistakable fury, her hands even trembling slightly.
The Empress Dowager was similarly affected.
"Grandmother," Sumalagu soothed, gently patting the Grand Empress Dowager’s back.
Yunxiu’s voice was neither too loud nor too soft, and as Consort Rong drew nearer, her words became clearer: "Your Majesties need not worry. The Emperor has already taken action. Yinzi is far more clever than expected—when faced with assassins, he remained calm, pulling out a handful of chili powder and scattering it—"
At the mention of chili powder, Yunxiu paused briefly, involuntarily recalling Kangxi’s earlier remarks about seasonings. Then, softening her tone with a reassuring smile, she continued, "It landed right in their eyes, and the assassins were subdued in an instant. Little Eleventh is unharmed, now fast asleep in the princes’ quarters."
Consort Rong was stunned, unable to process the news for a long moment.
Assassins… chili powder?
By nature, Consort Rong had always presented herself as composed and gentle, especially now that the Third Prince was nearing marriageable age. Rarely did she lose her composure. But the idea of a six-year-old child overpowering skilled assassins was absurd—utterly fantastical. How could such a thing happen?
Longkodo hadn’t failed to act; he had simply been outmaneuvered.
Meanwhile, the Grand Empress Dowager was torn between anguish and rage, her voice trembling with fury. "Assassins? How dare they act so brazenly!"
When Yunxiu recounted Little Eleventh’s "heroic feat," the Empress Dowager exhaled in profound relief, murmuring, "Good, very good. As long as Yinzi is safe. Who could match his cleverness? Both Her Majesty and I can rest easy now."
No one mentioned the fate of the assassins—were the imperial guards mere decorations?
While they were reassured, Consort Rong still found the tale unbelievable. Yunxiu turned and only then noticed her arrival, cutting her words short. "Ah, Consort Rong is here too. We’ve both come rather early."
Consort Rong smiled and curtsied, offering her greetings. Her expression swiftly returned to its usual calm, though a faint unease lingered as she asked, "I overheard Your Grace speaking of assassins…"
"Nothing of grave concern. Just two overambitious palace maids—Chunlin and Chunping, both serving in Yuqing Palace. Their accomplices have already confessed; it’s only a matter of time before they do the same." Yunxiu’s eyes held a glimmer of amusement as she studied Consort Rong, as if assessing something. "The Emperor will not be lenient."
Consort Rong’s shock was perfectly befitting of someone unaware, flawless in its display. What truly lay in her heart, however, remained unknown.
After a few more exchanges, the other consorts arrived one after another. None knew of the assassination attempt, having prepared lavish gifts in anticipation of the newcomers. Before long, an announcement echoed from outside: "The Crown Prince and the Crown Princess have arrived!"
Everyone in the hall tensed—they were here.
