In just a few short years, Yintang achieved a meteoric rise in status.
From the son of a Noble Consort, to the son of an Imperial Noble Consort, and finally to the son of the Empress—this ninth prince, who had been the least favored by the Emperor in his past life, suddenly found himself elevated to the status of a legitimate imperial heir. In the entire Forbidden City, only the Crown Prince now outranked him.
When Yunxiu was first enfeoffed as a Noble Consort, Yintang was still a tiny babe in swaddling clothes. After the initial shock, deeply sensing his imperial father's affection for his mother, the ninth prince couldn't help but marvel at how vastly different this life was.
His mother's fate had changed, and naturally, his own destiny would no longer be as tragic as it had been in his past life. Amidst his reflections, Yintang felt rather pleased with himself—being the son of a Noble Consort, weren't he and the tenth prince a match made in heaven as brothers?
Most importantly, the fourth prince was merely the son of a Consort. Whenever this thought crossed his mind, Yintang secretly gloated. You bullied me so much in the past life—well, look who’s lost the battle of maternal rank now!
When Yunxiu was promoted to Imperial Noble Consort, Kangxi fell gravely ill, and the situation grew dire. She only had time to reassure her children before departing for Rehe with the Crown Prince. Though Yintang knew the Emperor would surely recover, worry was unavoidable—especially since his mother was also pregnant. If anything were to happen...
The ninth prince grew frantic with anxiety. Fortunately, none of his fears came to pass. In a daze, he became the son of the de facto Empress. While he was still stunned, the tenth prince finally pieced together something odd.
"Could our rebirth alone have caused such massive changes?"
Yin'e swallowed hard and quietly asked Yintang, "Is it... because of Consort Yi?"
Yintang snapped out of his thoughts but remained silent, letting Yin'e stew in his own curiosity. The ninth prince simply shook his head.
If my mother’s success is carrying me to victory, it’s not exactly something to brag about. Better to just enjoy it quietly.
Not long after, news arrived that the eldest prince had captured Galdan alive. Yintang exhaled in relief, thinking, At least Eldest Brother listened to my advice.
Harsh advice may grate on the ears, and bitter medicine may be hard to swallow, but the eldest prince did have his merits.
When Wu Linzhu was born, Yintang was first stunned by the Crown Prince’s gift of two hundred thousand taels of silver, then amazed by the dog-tooth gold presented by the eldest prince at her third-day celebration. In that instant, he found his life’s direction and mapped out his future.
He was fluent in Western languages and had studied new-style war chariots. If he pestered the Emperor enough, he could secure a position in the Ministry of Works or the Court of Colonial Affairs and contribute to the court.
Even as a pampered noble, he’d be one with ambition and restraint.
And he couldn’t neglect business—his one small indulgence. Of course, he’d have to keep it hidden from the Emperor and his mother. As for capital, as long as he doted on his precious little sister, would he ever lack silver?
From then on, Yintang’s heart and eyes were wholly devoted to the sweet, soft sixth princess. He seized every chance to visit the Palace of Earthly Honor, eagerly waiting for her to grow up.
His efforts bore fruit. Gradually, apart from their parents and elders, Wu Linzhu became closest to him. If a row of brothers stood before her, she’d immediately recognize Yintang, toddling unsteadily into his arms while calling out softly, "Ninth Brother!"
That single "Ninth Brother" sent Yintang’s heart soaring—and sparked jealousy among the other princes. Only Yin'e watched him with a resentful gaze.
The ninth prince shivered under that look, a phrase flashing through his mind: heartless betrayer. So what if he’d visited the Palace of Earthly Honor a bit too often and accidentally neglected the tenth prince? Why was Yin'e staring at him like a jilted lover?
Still, guilt gnawed at him. Seizing an opportunity, Yintang pulled Yin'e aside and whispered at length, his first words being: "Wu Linzhu’s treasury holds at least five hundred thousand taels of silver."
The tenth prince promptly fell onto his backside.
In their past life, he and his Borjigit consort had barely scraped by. His wife, hailing from the grasslands, had no idea how to manage their shops—just breaking even was a miracle. He’d never expected her to suddenly gain a knack for business.
But there was always Ninth Brother to rely on.
Yin'e had clung to Yintang, living off him, and considered fifty thousand taels in his household a fortune.
Seeing him sprawled on the ground, Yintang scoffed. "Pathetic."
"Ninth Brother, you can’t blame me," Yin'e stammered after a long pause, shakily getting up. Five hundred thousand taels—good heavens, that could build two princely mansions! Is Sixth Sister a golden doll reincarnated?
Once he’d calmed somewhat, his eyes lit up. Slapping his thigh, he exclaimed, "Ninth Brother, so that’s it! I’ve wronged you!"
His affectionate gaze made Yintang’s skin crawl. A moment later, Yin'e sidled closer. "Ninth Brother, let’s make a deal. You’re borrowing Wu Linzhu’s silver for business, right? No need to stand on ceremony—just give me a ten percent share."
Yintang narrowed his eyes. How does Tenth Brother’s brain work? The moment there’s profit to be had, he turns into a genius.
With a derisive chuckle, he said, "Fine, ten percent. Where’s your investment?"
"I’ll borrow some from Sixth Sister too!" Yin'e grinned ingratiatingly. "Just deduct it from the first round of profits. And, uh, could you handle the borrowing for me?"
He raised his fists, ready to massage Yintang’s shoulders.
Yintang: "..."
So Wu Linzhu provides the funds, I do the work, and Tenth Brother reaps the rewards?
Dream on.
He casually stuck out a foot, sending Yin'e face-first into the dirt.
"Nnninth Brooother!"
Yintang snapped, "Ninth Brother’s right here!"
By the time Wu Linzhu turned two and Yintang and Yin'e were ten, Yunxiu became Empress.
The ninth prince, now a legitimate imperial heir, wandered about in a daze—but Yin'e was even more bewildered. How did my buddy pull this off? This makes no sense.
Consort Yi—no, the Empress—must have had some extraordinary encounter I don’t know about. The thought filled him with envy. Ninth Brother’s luck is just too good.
Before their bewilderment could fade, an imperial edict was proclaimed: Sixth Princess Wu Linzhu was granted the title "Princess Huihe of the First Rank."
A fresh flood of silver notes poured into the Palace of Earthly Honor, swelling Wu Linzhu’s treasury and instantly diverting the two princes’ attention.
Yin'e gulped and blurted, "I have a brilliant cousin, just five years old..."
Setting aside the elders’ doting, with such a mountain of wealth, how could the Emperor ever bear to send Wu Linzhu to marry in Mongolia? Best to plan early.
Before he could finish, Yintang pummeled him mercilessly. Yin'e howled, "Ninth Brother, I was joking! Go easy! Easy!"
Though spoken in jest, the words struck a chord. Back in his quarters, Yintang dug out a handwritten copy of the Sacred Edict and added several new entries, resolved to drill them into his sister once she was older. She mustn’t be fooled by some smooth-talking scoundrel.
By age three, Wu Linzhu had heard countless stories. In her eyes, Ninth Brother’s tales were the most fascinating, so she’d pester him whenever she could. "Ninth Brother, tell me one!"
Clearing his throat, Yintang pondered briefly and said, "Today’s story is about a heartless scoundrel."
"Last time, you told the story of a heartless man, Ninth Brother," Wu Linzhu blinked her large eyes, resting her rosy cheeks in her palms.
"That was different," Yintang explained patiently. "The tale of a poor scholar abandoning his wife and children, sweet-talking a kind and beautiful princess to climb the social ladder by becoming a royal son-in-law—how could it be the same as the story of a high-born nobleman, all glittering on the outside but rotten within, who schemed to marry a princess while secretly keeping concubines and plotting to seize her dowry?"
Wu Linzhu was a little confused.
The rules her imperial father had taught her were just as convoluted.
After some thought, her eyes brimmed with anticipation, and her soft, sweet voice piped up, "It really is different. Ninth Brother, hurry and tell Wu Linzhu the story!"
Time flowed like water, and in the blink of an eye, Wu Linzhu turned six.
Ninth Prince Yintang and Tenth Prince Yin'e had grown into half-grown youths, and their opportunities to leave the palace gradually increased.
Yintang took a liking to a shop in an excellent location and approached the owner to inquire. With his silver tongue and an air of unmistakable nobility, the owner finally relented—though the price was a bit steep.
As imperial princes, they weren’t without savings, but compared to Wu Linzhu’s wealth, theirs was insignificant, a drop in the bucket. Seeing him deep in thought, Yin'e leaned in and whispered, "Ninth Brother, it’s time we borrowed some silver from Sixth Sister."
Yintang let out a thoughtful hum, clearly making up his mind. Yin'e’s face broke into a confident grin—until Yintang abruptly urged, "You go."
Yin'e nearly choked. "Me?"
"Do you want your share or not?"
"Fine, I’ll go."
A man of his word, the Tenth Prince had no choice but to step up.
When he found Wu Linzhu, the little girl was fiddling with an extremely intricate nine-linked ring puzzle. The complexity of it made Yin'e dizzy just looking at it. He quickly averted his gaze and put on a warm smile, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.
"Sixth Sister, it’s been so long. Wu Linzhu has grown even more lovely and adorable," he said gently, then sighed dramatically. "Tenth Brother is in trouble. Someone as kind as you wouldn’t stand by and watch me suffer, would you?"
Wu Linzhu paused her movements, her large, dewy eyes silently studying him.
She knew this script all too well.
It reminded her of the story Ninth Brother had told—the poor scholar coaxing the princess, saying, "You’re so beautiful, so kind, you wouldn’t let me suffer, would you?"
But beneath the sweet words lay a despicable heart.
Wu Linzhu resumed playing with the puzzle and said softly, "Tenth Brother, I’m not kind."
Remembering the nobleman’s greed for the princess’s dowry, she added, "And I don’t have a dowry either."
Yin'e: "..."
Defeated before even beginning, Yin'e racked his brain but couldn’t figure out where he’d gone wrong.
When Yintang heard his retelling, he spat out his tea, his face cycling through shades of red and green. After a long pause, the Ninth Prince smacked his forehead and fell silent.
He had, it seemed, dug his own grave.
With Yin'e on the verge of tears beside him, Yintang gritted his teeth and decided to take matters into his own hands.
Of all their siblings, Wu Linzhu was closest to him. He could simply tell her he needed silver—no need for elaborate schemes.
On a clear, cloudless day, Ninth Prince Yintang wore a gentle smile, his peach-blossom eyes—identical to Yunxiu’s—adding to his charm in Wu Linzhu’s eyes.
He laid out his business plans in detail. "Lend Ninth Brother two hundred thousand taels of silver. Within five years, I’ll return every last coin without fail."
What did a six-year-old girl know about business? Logically, repayment should include interest and a share of the profits—but Wu Linzhu wouldn’t understand that.
Yintang had thought it through thoroughly and was utterly confident.
Seeing the confusion in Wu Linzhu’s eyes, he coaxed her with a smile, "If you don’t believe me, Ninth Brother can write a pledge. As an imperial prince, merchants wouldn’t dare refuse me. Do you know where the two hundred thousand taels are kept?"
Wu Linzhu nodded.
Yintang’s heart leaped with joy—until the next moment, when his precious sister calmly refused him, delivering a crushing blow.
"I want to go into business too. As a Gūlún Princess, they’d be even less likely to refuse me. Ninth Brother, if I lend it to you, I’ll earn less."
She looked at her ninth brother, her eyes now tinged with the wariness of a competitor.
Yintang was dumbstruck, speechless for a long while.
Wu Linzhu then frowned, counting on her fingers. "But Father Emperor wouldn’t approve of me doing business. Who should I get to front the two hundred thousand taels for me?"
After a moment of contemplation, her intention to find a proxy was obvious.
Ninth Prince swallowed back his frustration, watching his dreams of silver slip away before his eyes.
Compared to his meager savings of ten thousand taels, Yintang fought back tears and forced out the words, "I’ll do it."
