Extra Chapter One: The Emperor’s Swapped Life
In Changchun Garden, mournful cries filled the air. The aging Kangxi Emperor, his hair streaked with white, weakly moved his fingers. As his eyes closed for the last time, his life flashed before him.
As a child, he had survived smallpox against all odds. As a young emperor, he had faced countless constraints. After reclaiming power, he still remembered the ambition of quelling the Revolt of the Three Feudatories and the determination of his expedition against the Dzungars—only for it all to end in the grief of deposing the crown prince twice and the weariness of watching his sons vie for the throne.
Baocheng, the son he cherished most.
The title of deposed crown prince was far too sensitive. After a labored breath, Kangxi steeled his heart and left no final words.
A stir arose by his bedside. With great effort, he lifted his eyelids and saw Imperial Concubine Yi, Lady Guo Luoluo, kneeling before Consort De.
He could barely recall her face now, but he faintly remembered a fondness for her in his youth, having favored her for many years.
Those memories were distant and blurred, gradually overshadowed by the treachery of the Eighth and Ninth Princes. In the harem, only Consort Yi could rival Consort De. She had always been bold—what if she refused to submit to the new emperor?
And she still had the Fifth Prince under her wing.
The throne must pass securely to Yinzhen. In an instant, Kangxi made his decision. Consort Yi was hardly domineering, he knew, but he cared little. For the sake of a smooth succession, anything could be sacrificed.
With difficulty, he parted his lips and murmured something to Yinzhen—though the words themselves escaped him now. As the funeral bell tolled, Kangxi finally closed his eyes, his hands slipping lifelessly to the bedside. Amidst the wails of mourning, his consciousness scattered, sinking into endless darkness.
When one dies, shouldn’t they walk the path to the underworld?
And as an emperor, blessed by the true dragon and bearing great virtue, he ought to be honored in the afterlife.
Yet in the haze, Kangxi caught the faint scent of a familiar warmth. Buried memories surged to the surface, and his eyes flew open. Dazed, he found himself lying beneath embroidered bed curtains.
Hadn’t he died?
Light filtered through the canopy, illuminating intricate floral patterns. The warmth beside him was unmistakable—a living presence. His fingers twitched, and he slowly turned his head.
There, cascading like flowing clouds, was a mane of dark hair framing a face as delicate as a spring blossom.
Kangxi’s breath hitched. Absurdly, she felt familiar.
She slept deeply, her cheeks tinged pink, nestled against him without a trace of hesitation—as if they had always been this close.
Even for a man accustomed to beauties, her radiance was breathtaking. But where had he seen her before?
Then, wariness flashed through him. Something was wrong.
His concubines had always treated him with reverence and fear. None would dare linger in his bed until dawn, much less cling to him so boldly.
And this body—it wasn’t frail or aged.
Trembling, he raised his hands. The skin was smooth, the joints firm, free of the liver spots of old age. Staring at them, a flood of recognition washed over him.
This wasn’t the body of a dying man.
Kangxi sat up abruptly, his face flushing. A wild guess took hold, and his breath quickened. Could it be—?
The truth hovered just out of reach, but for once, he hesitated.
The woman beside him stirred, disturbed by his movements. Slowly, her lashes fluttered open, revealing misty, peach-blossom eyes. She reached out, gently touching his back.
"Your Majesty," she murmured, voice soft with concern, "were you troubled by a nightmare?"
Kangxi turned, his thoughts in turmoil. Then he froze.
Those eyes—that face—
Consort Yi.
His suspicions crystallized in an instant.
Expression unreadable, Kangxi remained motionless, studying her from the shadows.
Yunxiu waited, but when no answer came, she propped herself up and called again. This time, their gazes locked.
His eyes held none of the affection she knew. Instead, they were assessing, cold, and weighed down by an inexplicable weariness. The imperial aura around him was suffocating, and for a fleeting moment, it overlapped with a nightmare she’d once had.
Her smile faded.
"I did have a nightmare," Kangxi finally said, oblivious to her shift in mood. He exhaled slowly. "I’ve lost track of time. What year is it?"
"Your Majesty has a short memory," Yunxiu replied flatly, her fingers curling tightly. She masked the ice in her gaze. "The thirty-second year of Kangxi. Do you recall now?"
Kangxi stiffened—both at her insolence and the date.
A beat passed before a sharp rebuke cut through the silence.
"Consort Yi, you overstep!"
---
Original Timeline: The Forty-Seventh Year of Kangxi.
The grand court assembly was deathly silent.
Crown Prince Yinreng knelt at the forefront, disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his unkempt beard framing a face twisted in anguish. Trembling uncontrollably, he listened as his revered father—seated high upon the throne—pronounced his downfall.
"Crown Prince Yinreng, for your madness and treason—"
Each word was a nail in his coffin. From this day forth, he would be the deposed prince, a laughingstock of the empire.
As the decree unfolded, the First Prince Yinti clenched his fists, the Third Prince Yin Zhi’s breathing grew ragged, and the Fourth Prince Yinzhen’s right hand flexed repeatedly.
Then, without warning, Kangxi’s grief-stricken voice cut off.
The emperor’s silence stretched on, plunging Qianqing Palace into a void. The ministers’ hearts pounded; some of the older officials nearly collapsed under the tension.
Tong Guowei and Ma Qi exchanged glances. With a sigh, they assumed His Majesty was struggling to sever ties—after all, the crown prince had been raised by his own hand, nurtured with unparalleled care.
The words "depose the crown prince" were not so easily spoken.
But the edict had already been drafted. The decision was irreversible. To spare the emperor further anguish, they ought to proceed.
Tong Guowei gestured discreetly, his gaze briefly resting on the Eighth Prince’s back before he knelt and implored, "This servant dares to beg Your Majesty to reconsider."
In an instant, the courtiers followed suit, their voices rising in unison. "We beg Your Majesty to reconsider!"
Yet after a long pause, the emperor yielded.
Kangxi closed the edict, masking the storm in his heart. "To err is human," he declared solemnly. "The crown prince is young. His mistakes are forgivable. After careful reflection, I find this matter too grave for haste. The court is dismissed."
The announcement sent shockwaves through the assembly.
Yinreng abruptly raised his head, his haggard face filled with disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust what he had just heard. Before he could process it, Kangxi finally turned his gaze toward him, his tone indescribably complex. "Rise. After court, accompany me to the imperial study."
With that, he flicked his sleeve and walked away slowly.
The Forbidden City remained unchanged, as did the imperial carriage. Kangxi searched his memories, his peripheral glance catching Li Dequan standing at his side, leaving his heart unsettled for a long while.
Aging fifteen years out of thin air was one thing, but Liang Jiugong had inexplicably vanished. The chief eunuch had been replaced by his own disciple—Little Lizi, who often ran errands to Yikun Palace.
The words "Yikun Palace" flashed through his mind, and Kangxi’s brow gradually furrowed, his gaze flickering with unrest.
"We shall take our midday meal at Yikun Palace today," he said slowly.
Li Dequan concealed his surprise and cautiously acknowledged the order.
Never had he been so certain—His Majesty was not himself.
Not only had he personally revoked the edict deposing the Crown Prince, shocking the entire court, but hadn’t the Emperor always disapproved of the Ninth Prince and the Eighth Prince associating closely?
His Majesty hadn’t visited Yikun Palace in many days, intending to reprimand Consort Yi. So what was this sudden change about?
The imperial carriage came to a leisurely stop outside the study. Li Dequan’s sharp eyes spotted a young eunuch waiting outside, holding a food box. A knowing smile surfaced as he bowed and said, "Your Majesty, Consort De, concerned for the imperial health, has again sent dishes from her kitchen—"
"Consort De?"
The word "again" made Kangxi’s frown deepen. Barely suppressing his anger, he replied coldly, "Drag him out."
Li Dequan froze.
"Spying on the Emperor’s movements—such audacity. Who gave her the right?" The Emperor’s expression was icy, his tone even colder. After a pause, he added, "Strip her of the title 'De.' She is to copy palace rules a hundred times as punishment."
Li Dequan opened his mouth but found no words. Kangxi glanced at him sidelong. "What, have you gone mute?"
That look carried a warning, sending a chill down Li Dequan’s spine. Beads of cold sweat formed at his temples as he hastily bowed in acknowledgment.
Inside the study, the Crown Prince had shed his earlier disheveled appearance from court. His heart was adrift, his steps light and unsteady as he entered the hall.
"Imperial Father—" Having narrowly retained his position, tears streamed down his face as he kowtowed repeatedly. "This son admits his faults, this son admits his faults—"
Kangxi looked at him with a complicated expression, his lips parting before swallowing the words, "And what exactly are your faults?"
The Crown Prince was handsome, but this Baocheng was far from the Baocheng of another world.
Fifteen years older, his haggard state was understandable. Kangxi sighed softly, suppressing his pity, and asked with unusual gentleness, "Do you know Imperial Physician Min’s renowned specialty—the Jade Beauty Cream?"
The Crown Prince: "..."
