As Mingzhu's remark entered his ears, Tong Guowei abruptly turned his head, his gaze fixed on the phoenix banner fluttering under the scorching sun. His expression changed dramatically.
The Imperial Noble Consort's rank is akin to that of a deputy empress, carrying the responsibility of managing the Inner Palace. Her entourage, decorations, and ceremonial norms are similar to those of the Empress.
However, the key distinction between the Imperial Noble Consort and the Empress lies in the phoenix flags in their ceremonial processions—the Empress bears the multi-colored phoenix, while the Imperial Noble Consort bears the golden phoenix.
Shortly after the current Emperor ascended the throne, he redefined the ranking system for consorts and wrote these ceremonial standards into the "Huidian," a regulatory text binding for all ranks of the palace hierarchy.
And yet, here his eldest daughter, the Imperial Noble Consort, who commands the palace with authority, was parading under the multi-colored phoenix banner meant solely for the Empress!
If one were to frame this lightly, it could be chalked up to negligence on the part of the attendants. But if one were to magnify it—it reflected the Imperial Noble Consort’s audacity to covet the Empress's position. It was a breach of protocol, an overstep of boundaries, an unforgivable transgression that bordered on defiance!
This incident carried the same gravity as the Crown Prince mistakenly donning a yellow dragon robe, symbolizing imperial supremacy.
Why had the Imperial Noble Consort committed such a grievous error?!
Tong Guowei was momentarily speechless from the shock. Quickly following, his heart sank to rock bottom.
Today was the Dragon Boat Festival feast, an occasion of shared joy between the emperor and ministers, with consorts from all corners of the court gathered. In such a lively and grand setting, the conspicuous phoenix banner could not be hidden—no matter how desperately anyone might attempt to cover it up.
Tong Guowei felt icy-cold as he glanced around. Sure enough, the murmurs from the onlookers were growing louder and louder.
Mingzhu’s face showed clear displeasure. Tugging at Tong Guowei’s sleeve, she whispered urgently, "The Imperial Noble Consort has been framed here! Send someone to alert her quickly."
"How could I not already know?" Tong Guowei shook his head, his demeanor suddenly weighed down as though aging ten years in mere moments. "It’s too late, too late… Everyone has already seen it."
His tone carried irrepressible despair.
"That's true," Mingzhu muttered under her breath, her thoughts racing. "Still, there’s a way to fix this! The Emperor hasn’t arrived yet. Have the Imperial Noble Consort order the banner and entourage moved away, far away from here—"
Before she could finish her sentence, the sharp crack of ceremonial whips rang through the air, and the music signaling the Emperor’s arrival began to play. From afar came a reverberating voice:
"The Emperor has arrived—"
Mingzhu’s words faltered. Tong Guowei's complexion turned ashen gray instantly. It was over.
***
Midway through the procession, Liang Jiugong heard the attendants’ report, and his heart sank with a thud.
Noticing the Emperor's glance, he had no choice but to lean in and softly relay, "The Imperial Noble Consort’s… ceremonial ensemble…"
The ceremonial banner? The multi-colored phoenix?
Kangxi, recalling the recent rumors circulating within the palace, kept a smile on his face, though a chill flickered in his eyes.
Following the shouts of "The Emperor has arrived!" and the mountain-like chorus of praises for Kangxi, outside the great hall, the Imperial Noble Consort—supported by Nanny Zhen—led a procession of consorts, her face glowing with a radiant smile, and stepped forward to greet him.
The Imperial Noble Consort had not been in good health lately and had taken leave alongside Yunxiu, staying in Yongshou Palace to recuperate.
Consort De wore her signature gentle smile, the curve of her lips perfectly maintained. Consort Rong inwardly masked her astonishment. Consort Hui muttered to herself, puzzled over why the Imperial Noble Consort looked so full of energy and vitality suddenly.
It was truly strange.
Could it be that the Emperor really intended to formally establish an Empress?
"Your Majesty, this humble servant pays her respects!" The Imperial Noble Consort, heavily pregnant, struggled to bow gracefully, her gaze toward Kangxi brimming with tenderness. "The sun is far too bright today—please, Your Majesty, do not remain under its rays for long. Come, let me escort you to your seat."
Kangxi nodded slowly, gently turning the jade thumb ring on his finger while staring at Mrs. Tongjia for a long time, his gaze making her visibly uneasy.
After much deliberation, Mrs. Tongjia gave a remorseful smile. "I’ve done many wrong things in the past," she said. "During my period of meditation and rest, I came to see everything more clearly. Whether it’s Consort Yi or Consort De, they’re all sisters within this family, wholeheartedly serving Your Majesty. It’s only natural that I should treat them with kindness..."
Her words and demeanor now exuded a temperament of gentleness and virtue.
Kangxi’s smile faded. After a long pause, he made a faint sound of acknowledgment.
Rumors of establishing an empress were circulating again, accompanied by the ostentatious use of ceremonial phoenix insignia. The laws of the empire demand propriety—should such talk spread, chaos may erupt in the court.
Whether Mrs. Tongjia acted deliberately or was manipulated by others, Kangxi knew he would need to give his ministers an explanation for what had transpired before so many watchful eyes.
If she had been manipulated, what face would Mrs. Tongjia have left to command the six palaces?
And if her actions were deliberate...
A trace of ferocity flickered in Kangxi’s eyes. Was Mrs. Tongjia, along with her influential family, trying to force his hand into establishing her as empress?
First it was during the longevity festival, now again at the Dragon Boat Festival. Oh, how persistent they were.
Glancing briefly at the pronounced rise of her pregnant belly, the emperor forcibly suppressed the anger and scorn bubbling within him and finally took his seat.
...
Though the gathering was meant to celebrate, the emperor’s displeased mood cast a heavy silence over the banquet. An atmosphere of tense stagnation quietly weighed on the hall.
The accomplished ministers at the table, discerning and perceptive as they were, silently exchanged glances, each wary of breaking the silence.
Liang Jiugong wore a strained expression, uncertain about the appropriate moment to declare the banquet officially begun. Just then, the Left Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate, Wang Yong, rose to his feet, shattering the stillness.
"Your Majesty," Wang Yong began, his upright voice projecting through the hall, "on such a festive occasion, it may be unbecoming me to speak of such matters. However, as antiquity speaks of the virtues of empresses and concubines, and as our Qing laws are codified in the 'Collected Statutes,' Mrs. Tongjia has overstepped her bounds by employing ceremonial phoenix insignia. This overreach smacks of a coveting of the empress's position—an act unbecoming, a breach of virtue, and a most flagrant disrespect! I must impeach her, Your Majesty, for the sake of moral rectitude. I implore you to deliver just punishment..."
His words struck the room like a thunderclap.
Tong Guowei, Mrs. Tongjia’s uncle, visibly shuddered. In that instant, his face turned ashen with rage, his eyes flashing like blades as he glared intently at Wang Yong.
The Censorate, sitting apart from the Six Ministries and possessing an air of prestige akin to the Hanlin Academy, was populated with uncompromising officials.
Their charge was to impeach and admonish, earning them a reputation as fiercely principled and impervious to political pressure. As one of the foremost among them, Wang Yong particularly enjoyed Kangxi’s confidence.
Wang Yong was a pure-hearted official who deferred to no one, owing loyalty only to the truth. If the situation called for it, he would even dare to chastise the emperor himself—what fear would he have of an imperial concubine, even one as well-connected as Mrs. Tongjia, the emperor’s own cousin?
It didn’t matter if the occasion was the Dragon Boat Festival banquet. Wang Yong would proceed with his memorial without hesitation.
As Wang Yong’s voice ceased, whispers and murmurs rippled across the banquet hall. Mrs. Tongjia’s hand trembled slightly, the redness of her face draining away in an instant.
Consort De raised a delicate handkerchief to her lips, her smile growing ever more graceful. At the ministers' table, Suo Etu leisurely stroked his long beard, a gleam of satisfaction flashing in his eyes.
No one knew how much time passed before Kangxi narrowed his eyes, and he spoke slowly: "Your memorial... it has reason, and yet, it does not."
Wang Yong was momentarily taken aback but quickly offered a respectful bow. "This humble servant humbly awaits an explanation."
"I have never had any intention of naming an empress. Given that, how could Mrs. Tongjia possibly be accused of 'coveting the empress's position'?" Kangxi chuckled, gesturing lightly towards Wang Yong. "However, the misuse of ceremonial insignia is indeed an error that does not allow for rebuttal.”
Never intended to name an empress?
Never intended to name an empress!
The Imperial Noble Consort's mind went entirely blank as a buzzing sound filled her ears. As for the words spoken afterward, she could not hear a single thing.
The breath she'd been holding onto… dissipated!
***
In Yikun Palace.
Yunxiu's belly had grown noticeably larger, and her movements had become much clumsier. Nanny Dong, Ruizhu, and the others kept a constant watch over her, not daring to let their guard down even for a moment. It was as if they were preparing for war, on edge at every rustling sound.
At the moment, she was dressed in understated garments, her black hair cascading freely over her shoulders as she reclined idly on the chaise, casually flipping through swatches of fabric.
The Imperial Household Department, under Kangxi's instructions, eagerly sent the fabrics for her to choose from during her spare time.
Leading the group was Little Lizi, Liang Jiugong’s direct disciple and a trusted errand-runner from Qianqing Palace. He was incredibly zealous in his manner.
He beamed and said, “These silks are top-quality materials from the southern provinces, lightweight and cooling—the perfect choice for summer wear. They’re specifically tailored for Your Ladyship and the young prince-to-be.”
While inspecting the fabric, Yunxiu chuckled at his words. “Quite so! This one, and this one… both can be put into storage.”
Long before the Dragon Boat Festival arrived, Yunxiu had ordered the arrangements for the birthing chamber to be set in place, even securing skilled midwives to attend her.
In her dreams, she had carried the pregnancy to term and delivered Yintang successfully in early autumn. However, the postpartum confinement period had been particularly uncomfortable due to the lingering heat—an oppressive "Autumn Tiger" that made the weather terribly stifling.
To ensure her comfort, she intentionally chose a room located at a breezier spot, noticeably cooler than other areas.
Aside from improving the environment for childbirth, Kangxi had now sent her these cooling fabrics—a generous gesture on his part.
After wrapping up the visit with Little Lizi, Yunxiu gently patted her belly, her eyes filled with a soft smile. She was just about to commend Kangxi's thoughtfulness when Ruizhu suddenly pushed aside the curtain and entered hurriedly, her face uncharacteristically tense. “Your Ladyship, the Imperial Noble Consort is in labor!”
Labor already? It’s only the eighth month!
This doesn’t match what she remembered from her dream.
Yunxiu froze for a moment, her voice dropping to a murmur, “Isn’t today the Dragon Boat Festival…”
Giving birth on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month wasn’t exactly an auspicious timing for the Imperial Noble Consort.
Still processing the news, Ruizhu, recalling the hearsay she had gathered, nodded with lingering astonishment. "Yes, it’s the Dragon Boat Festival."
She then leaned closer and whispered a few more details into Yunxiu's ear: “At the banquet, someone accused the Imperial Noble Consort of using the Phoenix Processional (reserved for the Empress) and harboring ambitions for the Empress’s throne… His Majesty stated outright that he has no intention of naming an Empress… and right there, the Imperial Noble Consort started bleeding and went into difficult labor!”
Yunxiu suppressed her shock, and after a moment's contemplation, she exhaled softly. “It seems she’s been schemed against.”
Was it Consort De? Or someone else?
“My health isn’t in the best condition, so I shouldn’t go in person. Ruizhu, take the hundred-year-old ginseng from storage and send it over,” Yunxiu instructed after some thought. “These are turbulent times—make sure our people stay disciplined. Wenyuan, head to the side wing and instruct Yun Shu to remain vigilant...”
The palace servants responded in unison and busied themselves with their tasks.
…
In Chengqian Palace, basins of bloodied water were carried out one after another while the Imperial Noble Consort’s wails grew progressively weaker.
The Grand Empress Dowager softly turned the beads of her Buddhist rosary, while the Empress Dowager couldn’t help but glance repeatedly into the inner chamber. Meanwhile, Kangxi, his expression dark and unreadable, clasped his hands behind his back, pacing back and forth.
The Imperial Noble Consort had fainted on the spot, losing blood rapidly. Naturally, the Dragon Boat Festival banquet couldn’t proceed amidst such chaos—it was immediately disrupted.
This turned out to be the most tumultuous Dragon Boat Festival since Kangxi’s ascension to the throne… leaving him unable to articulate his feelings at this moment.
Abruptly halting his steps, the Emperor let out a sigh and summoned Liang Jiugong. In a low voice, he said, "Cancel the decree demoting her to Noble Consort. Don’t draft it anymore."
Liang Jiugong responded softly, hesitated for a moment, and cautiously added, "Your Majesty, regarding the court ministers..."
The Imperial Noble Consort had used the lavish ceremonial trappings reserved for an Empress. But now, due to complications in childbirth, the Emperor no longer sought to address it. While the Imperial Censorate might let it pass, could the Eight Banners aristocracy and the rigid old scholars turn a blind eye?
And the Han officials! The Han officials, above all, valued tradition and propriety.
"This is a family matter of mine," Kangxi said, rubbing his forehead with a somber expression. "Let them raise a fuss; they will settle down soon enough."
Liang Jiugong bowed and acknowledged the order, refraining from further comments.
From the blazing midday sun to the deep shadow of twilight, and then up to the final moments before midnight, the Imperial Noble Consort painstakingly gave birth to a little princess.
The little princess was born with a bluish hue, frail as a kitten. Her cries were faintly weak, and within half an hour, her tiny life slipped away.
Upon hearing the tragic news, the Empress Dowager, who had been sitting solemnly in silence the entire day, momentarily closed her eyes. Softly, she murmured the name of Amitabha.
Kangxi steadied himself by gripping the edge of the chair, his voice hoarse as he declared, "Bestow upon her the name ‘Anle’ and bury her with the honors of a Princess of the First Rank (Gulun Gongzhu)."
Gasps rippled across the gathered court. Such exceptional honors!
The Imperial Noble Consort remained unconscious, while the only person able to act on her behalf, Nanny Zhen, sobbed uncontrollably as she fell to her knees in a full prostration. “Thank you, Your Majesty!” she cried.
***
The Imperial Noble Consort’s difficult labor, followed by the loss of the princess mere moments after her birth, reverberated with sorrow—at least for the grieving Tongjia family and the oddly regretful Mingzhu. However, most members of the court, as well as the consorts within the vast imperial harem, no trace of grief.
Suo Etu, for one, exhaled in relief. Overcome by his delight, he was no longer concerned with the arrangements for the late princess after her passing.
Receiving a burial as splendid as a Gulun Princess, alongside the bestowal of the name “Anle,” was an extraordinary departure from tradition. None of the previous princes or princesses who had died young had ever been honored this generously.
For once, the court ministers collectively chose to remain silent. In a rare show of unity, none opposed the Emperor. It was as if an unspoken consensus had formed, allowing His Majesty his indulgence just this once.
After all, the Tongjia family was the Emperor's maternal clan, and the Imperial Noble Consort was his own first cousin. To object to a lavish burial would be ill-timed, if not outright suicidal. Even Wang Yong, the normally out-speaking Grand Censor of the Left, kept his criticisms to himself.
While the front court remained tranquil, the inner palace brewed with discord. The consorts, especially those who had lost children in the past, were far from at ease.
It might have been fortunate that the Imperial Noble Consort didn’t give birth to a prince, but a mere princess—why, then, should she receive such remarkable honors?
Among the Four Consorts, Consort Hui, Consort Rong, and Consort De had all endured the pain of outliving their children.
Consort Hui had long distanced herself from her grief, but Consort Rong, who had lost four princes in succession—including Kangxi’s first son, Chengrui—still suffered from unrelenting heartache.
The usually subdued and pious Consort Rong, known for her Buddhist devotions and aversion to disputes, smashed several sets of tea-ware in a rare display of rage. Her growing resentment against the bedr Imperial Noble Consort was palpable.
“My Chengrui... my Sa’in Chakhun... not even a posthumous honor was bestowed upon them. And now, her? Just a mere girl-child—what makes her so special?” she cried, trembling with fury.
Consort De’s feelings mirrored those of Consort Rong.
Recalling her own dearly departed little princess, her chest heaved with anger before she quickly regained her composure.
“Has Mrs. Tongjia gone utterly mad?” she asked softly, her voice silken but cold as ice, as she lowered her gaze.
Nanny Wu whispered, "They say the postpartum bleeding hasn't stopped yet, and she's been crying all day, screaming ‘My little son’... The Emperor has strictly ordered the Imperial Noble Consort to rest and subsequently stripped her of palace authority, assigning imperial physicians to watch over her around the clock."
—She’s nothing more than a tiger with its teeth pulled now.
Consort De was inwardly exceedingly pleased, her satisfaction naturally spilling into a smile. Then, a thought struck her, and she asked, "What about Yinzhen? How is he faring at Cining Palace?"
Nanny Wu hesitated briefly before replying, "The Fourth Prince and Fifth Prince get along exceptionally well, and along with the Crown Prince, the three of them often visit the Palace of Eternal Spring."
Consort De froze, her smile slowly fading until it completely disappeared.
Why would the Crown Prince visit?
Is it not simply because the Emperor favors Lady Guoluolo!
Not only does he visit frequently, but even when occupied with state affairs, he never forgets to send gifts—be it fine fabrics or jewelry.
…It seems they’re about to empty the Emperor’s private treasury.
“Consort Yi is about to give birth, isn’t she?” Consort De remarked coolly, "Keep an eye on her situation and don't miss any news."
***
Apart from dealing with an increasingly unpredictable Emperor, Yunxiu stayed in the Palace of Eternal Spring to nurture her pregnancy with peace of mind, leading a quiet and secluded life. She did not involve herself in other affairs, and time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, the day of August 27th arrived.
Upon waking early in the morning, Yunxiu felt sense of anticipation. She gently placed her hand on her belly, feeling the baby’s movements from time to time, her face soft and radiant with a faint smile.
After a hearty breakfast, her abdomen began to ache slightly. Slowly, the pain intensified, suddenly spreading throughout her entire body.
“Prepare the birthing room—I’m about to give birth…” she said softly.
The Palace of Eternal Spring was immediately thrown into a frenzy.
Nanny Dong, though palpably nervous, managed to maintain her composure and issued orders methodically, “Zhang Youde! Quickly report to Cining Palace and notify the Matriarch and the Empress Dowager… Someone else, go to Qianqing Palace and inform His Majesty… Where’s the midwife? Ensure everything is clean—don’t bring anything unclean into the delivery room…”
Wenyuan supported Yunxiu while whispering fervently, “Your Highness, mind your step!”
At that precise moment, an inconspicuous little eunuch came rushing in. Spotting Ruizhu, he seemed to find his savior and bent close to whisper a few words.
Ruizhu’s face suddenly went pale. Her mouth opened as though to speak—but she hesitated, disbelief etched across her features.
She gritted her teeth, resolved to keep the news from her mistress. However, Nanny Dong had already noticed the commotion at the side and barked sternly, “What’s happened?”
Yunxiu felt an ominous foreboding in her heart. Turning her head sharply in their direction, she heard Ruizhu’s faltering voice: “People from Ningshou Palace just reported that the Fourth Prince and the Fifth Prince had a quarrel… and the Fifth Prince fell into the water…”
Yunxiu’s heart constricted violently. Her mind swam momentarily in dizziness before she felt a sudden wetness beneath her.
Her water had broken!
Pain surged overwhelmingly through her body, leaving her no room to think of anything else. She lay on the bed, clutching Wenyuan’s hand tightly: “Call the imperial doctor… Yinqi must not come to harm…”
Tears glistened in Wenyuan’s eyes as she nodded fiercely, urgency in her movements.
***
Yintang felt his mind clouded, his entire body seeming to soak in hot water, warm and heavy.
What’s this? He wasn’t dead yet?
That Old Fourth—truly cold-hearted—had left him without even an imperial doctor while he was imprisoned, forcing him toward death by attrition.
How could he, grand and mighty Ninth Prince, meet such a pitiful end… And how would Fifth Brother feel? How sad would his mother be?
Caught in the depths of sorrow, suddenly, a tremendous force struck him, wrenching him away from the comforting embrace of the "hot spring."
In an instant, his entire body was engulfed in a chill. After his breath steadied, Yintang burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs!
He wailed and cried, but amidst his tears, he realized something was off.
This body... Why did it look so much like that of a newborn infant?
Had he… actually come back to life, starting anew?
Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, faint voices of congratulations reached his ears: "Congratulations, Your Highness! Rejoice, Your Highness! It's a healthy little prince!"
Moments passed before a familiar, melodious yet fatigued voice sounded: "...Not a healthy little prince. He's a troublesome little prince."
Yintang froze entirely.
Mother?!
With a surge of overwhelming joy, mixed emotions of excitement, grievance, and sorrow flooded his heart completely. Waving his tiny hands, Yintang wailed even louder: "Waaaah—Waaah Waaah Waaah—"
