The side hall of Yonghe Palace.
Concubine Daijia’s hand trembled, and in an instant, tea splashed onto her pristine sleeves.
Yet she paid it no mind, her eyes widening slightly as disbelief washed over her. "What did you say?!"
Her chief maid, Mo Wu, swiftly tidied the teacup, unable to conceal her joy as she repeated in rapid succession, "Congratulations, Your Highness! The Emperor has just issued an oral decree, conferring upon you the title of Consort Cheng and granting you residence in the Palace of Universal Happiness. The formal edict of investiture is surely on its way. From this day forth, you shall be the true mistress of your own palace, and the Seventh Prince may see his mother every day!"
Consort Cheng stood frozen in place, taking a long moment to process the news before her eyes gradually brightened, her voice quivering. "...Is this true? Where did you hear such news?"
Confined to the side hall and attended by servants who were hardly well-connected, it was only natural for her to question the source.
—And one could hardly blame Consort Cheng for her caution.
Her family background was merely average, and upon entering the palace in her youth, she had been relegated to the status of a concubine, never particularly favored. While other young mistresses were successively elevated to the ranks of Noble Ladies, Honored Ladies, and even Consorts… she remained a mere concubine.
By sheer chance, she was blessed with pregnancy, and Lady Daijia had wept with joy. If she could bear a prince, she would surely shed the title of concubine—perhaps even contend for the rank of Consort.
She guarded her pregnancy with utmost care, but when she finally gave birth to a prince after ten months, before she could even lay eyes on him, the midwife fell to her knees trembling, reporting that the Seventh Prince had a malformed left foot… a congenital foot deformity.
The words struck like a bolt from the blue, shattering Lady Daijia’s dreams.
A foot deformity… how could it be a foot deformity?!
A child of the imperial family, born with such a flaw, was considered an ill omen from birth. And given that the reigning Emperor was a man of stern discipline and high standards, who knew how furious he would be upon seeing her?
Just as she had feared, Kangxi’s expression darkened, and after a single glance, he turned and left in a rage.
Coinciding with the raging Three Feudatories War, the newborn Seventh Prince’s deformity became a sign—people whispered that the Emperor had incurred divine wrath, that the Qing dynasty was cursed.
At this realization, Lady Daijia held her son and wept bitterly, overcome with despair and sorrow, crying through the entire night.
Yet Heaven is merciful. Though she had fallen entirely out of favor, her little Qi was not forsaken.
The very next day, the Emperor bestowed upon the Seventh Prince the name Yin You, making it clear to the world—even with his affliction, the Seventh Prince remained his imperial son, and he would protect him.
With this name and the Emperor’s continued care, Yin You grew up safely, lacking nothing in food or lodging, treated no differently than his brothers.
Lady Daijia was endlessly grateful. Even without favor, even if she remained a concubine forever, she harbored not a shred of resentment.
Years passed, and Concubine Daijia, dwelling in the side hall of Yonghe Palace, spent her days in quiet devotion, praying for Yin You’s well-being, her temperament growing ever more serene.
Without favor or status, she lived in constant fear of dragging Yin You down, conducting herself with the utmost caution. Toward Consort De, the mistress of Yonghe Palace, she was ever deferential, never daring the slightest disrespect.
And now, out of nowhere, the Emperor had elevated her to Consort—without the slightest forewarning. After the initial joy, how could she not question it?
"Eunuch Liang Jiugong of Qianqing Palace personally sent someone to inform me—how could it be false?" Mo Wu grew even more excited, then, as if recalling something, lowered her voice slightly. "The messenger, Little Lizi, said your elevation was entirely due to Consort Yi’s suggestion. The Emperor issued the decree right there in Yikun Palace—not just you, but also Concubine Hesheli, who was simultaneously elevated to Consort Ping."
If Liang Jiugong had sent the message, how could it be false?
The matter of her elevation was surely settled. Consort Cheng exhaled deeply, as though expelling years of grievances and fears in a single breath, her lips trembling uncontrollably, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
To become the mistress of her own palace, no longer forced to grovel and flatter—she had finally endured to this day!
The moment of reflection passed swiftly. As she calmed slightly, Consort Cheng’s heart filled with astonishment, and she murmured softly, "Consort Yi?"
Liang Jiugong never acted without purpose. If he had mentioned Consort Yi, it must have been with the Emperor’s tacit approval—meant specifically for her ears.
The implication was unmistakable.
But why would Consort Yi grant her such a boon?
Their interactions had been minimal. One was the favored jewel of the harem, the other an obscure figure—aside from ceremonial greetings, they scarcely crossed paths. Moreover, residing in the side hall of Yonghe Palace… she had far more dealings with Consort De.
Rumor had it that the two consorts harbored no small measure of enmity, so surely Consort Yi would hardly rejoice at the sight of her.
Even more baffling was the timing—Consort Yi had just given birth to the Ninth Prince and was in the midst of her confinement, at her most vulnerable. What reason could she have for suddenly proposing an elevation?
That the Emperor had listened spoke volumes—his regard for Consort Yi must be profound indeed!
"Concubine Hesheli—no, Consort Ping—was present at the time. Could it… have something to do with her?" Mo Wu whispered.
"Perhaps, but that is mere speculation." Consort Cheng shook her head slightly, a thread of gratitude weaving through her heart as she spoke solemnly, "Regardless, the fact remains—Consort Yi has done me a great kindness, an immeasurable favor! You must remember this, and so must I. After the third-day purification ceremony, we shall prepare lavish gifts and go to Yikun Palace to express our gratitude…"
Mid-sentence, a sudden announcement came from outside—Consort De had arrived.
Consort Cheng’s words caught in her throat. Pausing briefly, she had no time to retract her smile before saying, "...Invite Her Highness in at once."
Consort De leaned on Nanny Wu’s arm, one hand resting on her prominent belly, her lips curved in a gentle smile.
"Congratulations, dear sister, on receiving the Emperor’s grace—elevated to Consort Cheng, mistress of your own palace at last! Your days of hardship are over." Consort De, now nine months pregnant, wore a thicker layer of powder, obscuring her true expression as she spoke softly, "The side hall is hardly fitting for you now. When the time comes to move, I shall be the first to send gifts of celebration…"
Not a word about Yikun Palace, her demeanor all warmth and joy, as though genuinely delighted for Consort Cheng.
Having lived under Consort De’s shadow for so many years, Consort Cheng had long since discerned her temperament. She mirrored the delighted expression, exclaiming hastily, "You flatter me, truly! Without Your Highness’s care for my son and me all these years, how could I have reached this day?"
Had Consort De treated her well?
Compared to other palaces and the downtrodden mistresses, certainly.
They addressed each other as sisters, her allowances were never withheld, the courtesies were meticulously observed, and she had always shown kindness to Yin You…
By all accounts, who could deny it was good? The low-ranking Noble Ladies and Honored Ladies all sighed, saying Consort De had the heart of a bodhisattva, envying Consort Cheng’s peaceful existence in Yonghe Palace, wishing they could trade places.
What a joke. Were there truly any bodhisattvas in the harem?
Consort De’s treatment of her had always been superficial at best.
Consort Cheng had tread with the utmost caution, ever deferential, ever dutiful—only thus had she secured these years of uneasy peace.
She knew all too well in her heart that in the past, whenever the Emperor had free time, he would occasionally visit Yin You. But at some point, Consort De had intercepted every opportunity, using the Sixth Prince Yinzuo as an excuse.
There were countless instances like this!
...After enduring so much hardship, it was pointless to dwell on these matters now.
Consort Cheng pushed aside her scattered thoughts and engaged in warm conversation with Consort De, exchanging pleasantries—one showing concern, the other humility. They spoke at length about their children until sunset, when Consort De finally took her leave.
Once she stepped out of the side hall, her smile vanished. Her eyes darkened, and the gentle warmth on her face disappeared without a trace.
Lady Daijia had no favor with the Emperor, yet she had the Seventh Prince Yin You by her side. However, Yin You’s slight lameness in his left foot had, from birth, stripped him of any chance to compete with the other princes—this was a consensus among all.
No favor, yet a son with a disability—what a perfect ally!
To ensure that the former Concubine Daijia resided in Yonghe Palace, Consort De had gone to great lengths, maneuvering skillfully until she finally achieved her goal.
Over time, she grew closer to Lady Daijia, while Yinzuo and Yin You also became playmates. Following her instructions, Yinzuo treated Yin You like a brother, with the Sixth Prince naturally taking the lead in their interactions...
Consort De was deeply satisfied.
But now, Mrs. Guoluoluo’s meddling had thrown her plans into disarray, like a slap hard across her face!
Consort Cheng had been elevated to a higher rank and was about to leave Yonghe Palace to establish her own residence—and it was Consort Yi who had helped her.
Lady Daijia couldn’t possibly be unaware of the enmity between her and Consort Yi. Now, it seemed her heart was completely swayed!
To rise from a lowly concubine to the rank of Consort Cheng—what an immense favor, what an extraordinary grace! Even just to avoid gossip, Consort Cheng would no longer remain close to her.
Consort Cheng was no fool—she might even prevent the Seventh Prince from playing with the Sixth Prince...
What a masterstroke of sowing discord, what a brazenly open scheme!
Years of meticulous planning had all gone to waste.
Consort De pressed a hand to her stomach, taking a deep breath, her heart brimming with resentment.
Your Majesty, Consort Yi is so brazen, so overstepping—why do you indulge her again and again? Is it all because of that fox-like face of hers?!
She, too, was carrying a child, yet Consort Yi had stolen all the attention.
The Ninth Prince had been born barely three days ago, yet the Emperor had practically made the Palace of Universal Happiness his home. Who still remembered her, so close to giving birth?
Consort De closed her eyes, then opened them again, swallowing down her bitterness.
Palace of Universal Happiness.
Yintang and Kangxi stared at each other, locked in a standoff for half a quarter of an hour.
One had double eyelids, the other narrow phoenix eyes; one large, one small; one seeing the world in a blur, the other with perfect clarity—the contrast between them was striking.
The red swaddling cloth wrapped tightly around the Ninth Prince’s unusually strong limbs, effectively restraining his urge to kick.
Yintang’s lips quivered, and he surrendered first, bursting into loud, wailing cries as if complaining to Yunxiu about the Emperor’s bullying. His little nose scrunched up, his sobs pitiful and heart-wrenching.
Serves you right! The old man got kicked out by Mother, and instead of reflecting on his actions, he shifted his focus to tormenting me!
Look at how spoiled you are!
Soon, Yunxiu’s angry voice rang out from the inner chamber: “Your Majesty, why is the Ninth Prince crying?”
Kangxi guiltily rubbed his nose and called back, “He’s just playing with me.”
Then he lowered his head, gently picking up Yintang with a smile. “Little Ninth, isn’t that right?”
The response His Majesty received was a stream of scalding hot urine, splashing directly onto his dragon robes!
