The personal attendant, unable to hear clearly, lowered her voice and asked again, "Your Highness the Crown Princess, shall we summon her?"
When Jingchu was first appointed Crown Princess, Emperor Kangxi had decreed that she assist in managing palace affairs, instructing Noble Consort Wen to personally guide her, thereby easing the burden on Yongshou Palace. Matters such as receiving noblewomen who sought an audience were entirely at her discretion.
The devastating news of the Emperor falling ill with malaria at Rehe Palace cast a pall over the imperial court. For Noble Consort Wen, while she worried about the Emperor’s health, her greater concern was for Yunxiu’s safety. Though she had privately complained countless times, her sharp tongue belied a tender heart, and she swiftly took charge of caring for the Fifth, Ninth, and Eleventh Princes.
Thus, Noble Consort Wen spent half her days tending to the princes and the other half kneeling in the prayer hall, ostensibly praying for the Emperor’s recovery—though in truth, it was for Yunxiu. With little energy left for palace affairs, Jingchu stepped forward, taking up the responsibility. Within days, she grew adept at managing the household, her fair and virtuous reputation earning praise from both the inner court and outer court, much to the delight of the two Dowager Empresses.
Yet, no matter how virtuous or impartial she was, the endless stream of women seeking to climb the social ladder by eyeing the Crown Prince’s harem exhausted her patience.
Overseeing such a vast household left no time for idle confrontations. Moreover, with Yinreng and Mother Yi far away in Rehe, Jingchu found herself restless, her appetite and sleep disturbed by the absence of his handsome face.
So when Lady Li requested an audience, her first instinct was to refuse.
But before she could speak, a memory surfaced, stubbornly taking root in her mind.
The Crown Prince had once remarked to her that the Cao and Li families were veritable treasure troves—wealthy and loyal, safeguarding the south for the Emperor. "We mustn’t kill the goose that lays the golden eggs," he had said.
Jingchu swallowed her initial refusal and instead cleared her throat. "Grant her an audience."
She might as well see what the matriarch of this "treasure trove" looked like.
Lady Li was still Lady Li—Cao Yin’s lawful wife and Li Xu’s younger sister—but she had aged considerably, her once dignified features now gaunt and weary. A single glance told Jingchu that life in the inner chambers had not been kind to her.
Faintly recalling her father’s account of the upheaval in the Jiangning Textile Commissioner’s residence during the Emperor’s southern tour in the 23rd year of Kangxi’s reign, Jingchu straightened slightly.
The previous commissioner, Cao Xi, had passed away at year’s end, throwing the Cao household into chaos. Only because Cao Yin had been the Emperor’s childhood study companion, sharing an extraordinary bond, did the family barely hold on. A year later, the Emperor formally appointed Cao Yin as the new Jiangning Textile Commissioner. To his credit, he proved capable, and within a few years, the Cao family regained imperial favor.
More widely circulated, however, was a tale from the inner chambers. Cao Yin was exemplary in all respects—except for his excessive fondness for a beautiful but low-born concubine. Yet he remained clear-headed, publicly upholding Lady Li’s dignity and ensuring neither the concubine nor her sons overstepped their bounds. Over time, even the censors had nothing to criticize, and the gossip faded.
Li Xu, Lady Li’s brother and a figure of equal renown, had yet to secure the position of Suzhou Textile Commissioner. Rumor had it that he had drawn the disfavor of the Grand Empress Dowager, leaving the Emperor hesitant to promote him. He remained stuck in Changchun Garden, biding his time.
Just yesterday, even noblewomen of the imperial clan had been denied entry to the palace. Lady Li had held little hope for an audience at Yuqing Palace—yet to her astonishment, the Crown Princess had granted her this honor.
Overwhelmed with joy, she steadied herself and promptly knelt in reverence. "This humble one pays respects to Your Highness the Crown Princess."
Jingchu smiled warmly and gestured. "Rise. A seat for our guest."
After repeated thanks, Lady Li took her seat, stealing a discreet glance upward. The Crown Princess’s expression was remarkably amiable, further bolstering her confidence.
Due to an incident years ago involving Noble Consort Yi—now Imperial Noble Consort—the Crown Prince had always maintained a cool, even indifferent, attitude toward the Cao family.
The late family head, Cao Xi, had sought reconciliation but found no opening. Left with no choice, he began exploring alternative alliances.
After the Emperor’s return to the capital, Mingzhu had sent rare treasures as gifts. Cao Xi, defying objections, accepted them—only for Mingzhu’s faction to collapse within a few years. When Cao Yin took over, he navigated the treacherous waters of court politics, attempting repeatedly to approach the Crown Prince but failing each time. Eventually, he turned his attention to the younger princes, still in their infancy.
But now, before these princes could come of age, the Emperor had fallen gravely ill—and the Crown Prince stood on the verge of ascension.
Such dire news could unsettle even the most composed minds.
They were the Emperor’s confidants, not the Crown Prince’s. With a new ruler came new ministers, and the fortunes of the Cao and Li families might not survive the transition. Whether their clans would remain intact was uncertain.
Though Lady Li resented Cao Yin for his devotion to Lady Wang, leaving their marriage cold and distant, she understood their fates were intertwined.
Now, with the Crown Prince away in Rehe during Cao Yin’s return to the capital for debriefing, all their usual strategies were useless. So Lady Li had tentatively proposed seeking an audience with the Crown Princess.
After a moment’s thought, Cao Yin agreed.
Now, face-to-face with the Crown Princess, Lady Li’s first thought was awe—such grace befitted a future empress. Her second thought was delight—the Crown Princess was unexpectedly approachable!
Gradually, her timidity and restraint melted away, replaced by growing certainty that the Crown Princess held goodwill toward the Cao and Li families.
Jingchu inquired meticulously about Yong’s daily life—what he ate, what he used—and even asked after Lady Li’s own well-being, whether she lacked for anything.
Lady Li’s breath hitched. Suppressing her rising excitement, she replied with tearful gratitude, "Your Highness honors this humble one with your concern. I lack nothing. Rather, it is you—"
Lowering her voice, she drew an exquisitely crafted flat box from her sleeve. "A trifling token of my regard. I beg Your Highness not to refuse."
Only the Crown Princess’s personal attendant remained in the hall.
At her mistress’s glance, the attendant accepted the box and presented it. Jingchu studied it curiously before flipping it open with a soft click.
Inside lay neatly stacked banknotes.
Her gaze lingered. Counting silently, even Jingchu—no stranger to wealth—was stunned by the Cao family’s extravagance.
Two hundred thousand taels of silver.
Even Yinreng’s years of private savings paled in comparison.
Lady Li observed Jingchu’s surprise and exhaled slowly, her smile deepening with deference.
Though the Crown Princess hailed from an eminent family in the capital, the Guargiya Clan’s wealth was no match for the Cao family’s. Her husband knew this well. Even with the Emperor and Dowager Empress adding to her dowry—
Imperial gifts were not liquid assets. In these turbulent times, with so many vying for positions as the Crown Prince’s Side Consort or lesser concubines, surely the Crown Princess felt the pressure?
An empress must balance benevolence with authority. And for benevolence, two hundred thousand taels was nothing short of a godsend.
As expected, the Crown Princess closed the box and nodded gently. "Your thoughtfulness is appreciated."
Half a month later, at Rehe Palace.
The western horse grounds mimicked the grasslands, while the eastern lakes mirrored Jiangnan’s waterways. Under the crisp autumn sky, the scenery was intoxicating.
Emperor Kangxi, now recovered enough to walk, remained at Rehe, while the Crown Prince’s prolonged absence had left the Forbidden City buried under mountains of unanswered memorials.
With his approval, over the past half month, urgent dispatches had been arriving one after another at Rehe. Yet his hands remained weak, trembling whenever he tried to hold a brush, so he unceremoniously dumped the workload onto the Crown Prince, instructing him to consult only on matters of uncertainty.
Yunxiu sensed something—this illness seemed to have given the Emperor a newfound clarity.
The Crown Prince was suddenly swamped with work, while Kangxi, unusually, found himself at leisure.
The great victory at Ulan Butong and the capture of Galdan were twin blessings, lifting a weight from his mind. Seizing this rare moment of peace while the Crown Prince was occupied, Kangxi eagerly took the pregnant Imperial Noble Consort by the hand and ordered a stable, deep-drafted dragon boat to be prepared for a lakeside excursion.
Yunxiu vaguely understood that Kangxi had his own schemes, but her longing to return to the palace grew stronger by the day. Little Five and Little Nine were manageable, but Little Eleven hadn’t seen his imperial father or mother in days—could the Emperor truly not miss Yinzi?
And then there were Noble Consort Wen and Yun Shu, who surely worried for her. She needed to return soon to reassure them.
Her expression remained impassive, though inwardly she wondered why the Emperor had recently become obsessed with feeding her plain congee. If this continued, her sore hand would start trembling too.
"Not long ago, I sent word to Yongshou Palace," Kangxi said, noticing her lack of enthusiasm and quickly offering reassurance. "At most, three days, and we’ll depart for the capital."
His gaze drifted lightly to Yunxiu’s swelling abdomen. He knew the return could no longer be delayed—first, for the triumphant return of the army, and second, because Yunxiu’s pregnancy was advancing.
His phoenix eyes darkened slightly. In the capital, the net was already being drawn tight—it was time to haul in the catch.
The thought brought a twinge of regret. Once back in the palace, he’d no longer have excuses to have the Imperial Noble Consort feed him. Every choice came with its gains and losses.
Just as the Emperor sighed inwardly, Liang Jiugong hurried over and murmured, "Your Majesty."
Leaning in, he whispered into Kangxi’s ear. The Imperial Noble Consort caught only fragments—"Tiandihui... Concubine Hui... the Cao family..."
Yunxiu’s mind raced. The Eldest Prince had won a great victory and captured the Dzungar leader—Concubine Hui stirring up trouble was one thing, but how had the Caos gotten involved?
After a long pause, Kangxi spoke in a low voice, "What did the Crown Princess say to the Crown Prince?"
Liang Jiugong hesitated, then replied with a deferential smile, "The Crown Princess sent a letter stating that the 200,000 taels of silver would serve as the little princess’s dowry."
Kangxi blinked in surprise.
After a moment, he pressed his lips together and asked quietly, "Did the Crown Prince reply?"
"His Highness praised the gesture emphatically... even said 200,000 taels wasn’t enough," Liang Jiugong recalled carefully. "But in the end, he posed a question—if the Imperial Noble Consort gives birth to a Little Prince, wouldn’t the Cao family’s vast fortune go to waste?"
"..." Kangxi said slowly, "He’s more invested in the child’s gender than I am."
