Kangxi finished speaking, gently pulling Yunxiu closer and tightly grasping her hand, his face flashing with undisguised delight.
The Crown Prince had grown up, and his recent behavior had pleased Kangxi more and more, filling him with joy.
His studies in the imperial study hall went without saying—Baocheng never slacked off, even without others urging him. He was filial to his elders, affectionate toward his brothers, and took great care of Yinzhen and Yinqi, all of which was evident to everyone.
A few months ago, Kangxi had spoken with the Grand Empress Dowager about the Crown Prince, sighing as he remarked that the child was noble in character, pure-hearted, yet slightly naive and impulsive—as seen when he disregarded the harem disputes to plead for Yinzhen’s sake.
Though he said this, the emperor had no intention of reprimanding him.
It was precisely this naivety and impulsiveness that deeply moved Kangxi, making him willing to indulge the prince. He believed there was still time—with gradual guidance, he could mold Baocheng into a wise ruler who would uphold the Qing dynasty’s legacy for generations, living up to the expectations of their ancestors.
...
A few days prior, the Crown Prince had, by sheer coincidence, invited his brothers to select horses and, together with Yinqi, saved Yinzuo’s life.
Had Baocheng not decisively summoned the imperial physicians, Kangxi dared not imagine what state Yinzuo would be in now!
Beyond that, within just a few days, every detail of the repeated "confrontations" between the Eldest Prince and the Crown Prince had reached Kangxi’s ears.
Outwardly, the emperor remained composed, but inwardly, he frowned, leaving a faint mark in his heart. Unconsciously, he began comparing his two most valued sons—the eldest and the heir.
After the comparison, he sighed quietly.
Compared to Baocheng, Baoqing (Yinti) still needed much more tempering.
The Crown Prince was his younger brother, yet also the heir to the throne. If Baoqing couldn’t match his brother’s magnanimity, that was one thing—but he must never lack propriety.
Baoqing was older than Baocheng, yet he still fell short of his younger brother’s maturity. Consort Hui’s description of Baoqing as "lively as a mischievous monkey" was indeed apt!
All these thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant. Hearing Yunxiu’s soft call, Kangxi snapped back to the present.
Little Yintang had just turned a month old yet already remembered his second brother’s embrace. Amused by this, Kangxi gazed at Yunxiu with unprecedented tenderness in his eyes. "I’ve realized," he murmured, "only you would trust Baocheng enough to hand Yintang over to him."
This unreserved trust—entrusting her child to the Crown Prince—made Kangxi’s heart soften, as if soaked in honey, sweet and soothing.
It was precisely because Yunxiu cherished him that she cherished his heir...
Unlike the other women, who avoided Baocheng, even harboring ill intentions, let alone showing him affection.
At this moment, Kangxi conveniently forgot Consort Yi’s sharp-tongued remarks during her childbirth—her "jealous and venomous" words and her infuriating demeanor. Instead, he savored the phrase "love me, love my heir," and the more he dwelled on it, the gentler his smile became.
Unaware of the emperor’s self-indulgent musings, Yunxiu felt a faint restlessness in her heart, mingled with unspoken emotions, which finally dissolved into a sigh.
Under the hazy glow of lamplight, she lowered her peach-blossom eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand, knowing she couldn’t avoid attending to him tonight.
So be it, she thought.
As an imperial consort, bound to the Forbidden City for life, there was no escaping the duty of sharing the emperor’s bed.
The empire belonged to the emperor. Refusing his favor might work temporarily, but never forever.
For now, the title of "favored consort" still clung to her. Viewed another way, the palace was a lonely place—rather than withering away in silence, having someone to ease the solitude wasn’t without its pleasures.
...
In the future, the emperor could favor whomever he pleased. But for now, who was to say who was truly serving whom?
Yunxiu slowly lifted her gaze, her brows curving into a smile as gentle as spring water, her dark hair cascading down, softening her striking beauty.
"Does Your Majesty remember what this consort once said?" she murmured softly.
Kangxi’s hand, resting on her slender waist, stilled. After a pause, he asked in a low voice, "...What words?"
Earlier, while he had been coaxing their youngest son, Liang Jiugong had tactfully withdrawn, ushering out the attending palace maids and nursemaids.
Now, behind the gauze curtains, only Kangxi, Yunxiu, and Yintang remained.
Yintang gaped in silent shock, his usual wails forgotten.
Mother, he thought, even fabrications have their limits—you can’t just commit treason by deceiving the emperor!
Mocking his inability to speak was one thing, but to brazenly twist the truth?
When had he ever been close to the Crown Prince? When had he ever missed his embrace?!
It was that brat who put on my split pants wrong!
If not for Nanny Dong’s conscience... Hmph.
Before Yintang could react, he heard his imperial father burst into laughter, lavishing praise on the Crown Prince.
In that instant, the future Ninth Prince expressionlessly stretched out his tiny foot toward Kangxi’s face, aiming for his chin as if to kick.
A sudden prickle of unease made the emperor-father hastily summon Liang Jiugong back, ordering him to keep a close watch on the Ninth Prince before shooing the chief eunuch out again.
This, of course, infuriated Yintang!
In the side chamber, he tormented Liang Jiugong to the point of exhaustion, leaving the eunuch no energy to meddle in the romantic affairs of his imperial superiors—nor to ponder Consort Yi’s true feelings.
...
Had Liang Jiugong remained, his eyes might have popped out of his head.
Listening closely, one would notice that the emperor’s questioning tone held not a trace of anger—only the faintest hint of guilt and a fleeting resignation.
Sure enough, Yunxiu smiled and whispered in his ear, "What else could it be? This consort is jealous and venomous, narrow-minded, unworthy of Your Majesty’s favor—"
The same words, spoken in a different context, carried an entirely different meaning.
Before Kangxi could frown and impose "punishment," Yunxiu paused, then deliberately drew out her next words:
"—were spoken in anger, yet also in truth."
On the day she gave birth to Yintang, consumed by worry for her fifth son, Yunxiu had vented every irreverent thought in her heart. Thus, calling it "anger" wasn’t entirely a lie.
To Kangxi’s ears, those two words—"spoken in anger"—were like sunlight breaking through clouds, illuminating everything before him.
In an instant, all his lingering discomfort, all the invisible barriers between them, dissolved into dust and scattered away.
"So," Yunxiu turned her face aside and murmured, "when three thousand beauties compete for favor, each one cuts into my heart. If I offend you again—whether in impulse or sincerity—punish me as you will. This consort will bear it without complaint."
The implication was clear: her jealousy was real, her boldness was real, and her possessiveness was real.
There would be many more bouts of jealousy in the future—he’d been warned.
...
In the flickering candlelight, the dim glow seemed to blaze into a wildfire, searing deep into the emperor’s heart.
His gaze fixed intently on Yunxiu, his eyes darkening as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers.
"Never," he rasped.
“I… will never fail you.” With a soft murmur of assent, silk robes slipped to the floor, and brocade curtains drew shut, veiling the amorous scene within.
At the same time, in Yonghe Palace.
Noble Consort Wuya jolted awake in the pitch-black bedchamber, sitting up abruptly. For a long moment, she squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to suppress the panic in her heart and the cold sweat trickling down her back.
“Yinzuo…” Trembling, she covered her face with her hands and whispered the name.
She had dreamed that her Yinzuo was gone…
In the dream, just before his passing, Yinzuo had clung to her hand, crying out for his mother over and over. Those heart-wrenching cries had haunted her like a nightmare, tormenting her for days and nights.
Even knowing it wasn’t real, Noble Consort Wuya couldn’t break free from the terror.
As candlelight flickered to life, it cast shadows over her haggard face, now aged beyond her years.
She muttered to herself, “Yinzuo has never left my side. How could he recover properly in the princes’ quarters? How could he be happy there?”
He was just a child—without his mother, he would be lost. If someone bullied him, who would stand up for him? Who would protect him?!
That day, she had returned to Yonghe Palace in a daze and collapsed onto her bed, her condition worsening over time.
The Emperor had accused her of cruelty, confining her to her quarters and forbidding her from seeing her sixth son, now the Prince of Rong. Barely days after childbirth, Mrs. Wuya had woken to a stabbing pain in her chest, her face deathly pale as she spat out a mouthful of blood.
She ignored the medicine the imperial physicians brewed for her. When her newborn daughter let out feeble cries, her lips trembled, but she remained unmoved—only tears streaming silently down her cheeks.
Days passed in this numb haze until Nanny Wu reported the truth behind Yinzuo’s poisoning. Slowly, Noble Consort Wuya regained her senses, and with them, her rationality.
Lady Liu—Yinzuo had called out Lady Liu’s name!
“The sixth prince… the sixth prince wasn’t hallucinating. He must have been recalling his childhood, Your Highness!” Nanny Wu wept bitterly.
At first, Noble Consort Wuya refused to believe it.
Her once bright and clever child had become dull-witted. All her hopes for the future had vanished. The mere thought made her heart ache until it went numb.
Then, that pain gradually twisted into hatred. Sitting motionless for hours, Noble Consort Wuya finally let out a hoarse, tearful whisper: “What if Lady Liu isn’t dead… but was switched with someone else?”
If she had stirred up trouble during her childbirth and given Yinzuo that poisoned sachet, then everything made sense.
The ones behind this plot could only be those vile women!
The Imperial Noble Consort had reemerged, and Consort Yi had left her confinement… At this thought, Noble Consort Wuya’s hatred blazed like wildfire, burning her from within. She longed to find Lady Liu and have her torn to pieces!
But every attempt to seek an audience with the Emperor at Qianqing Palace was blocked by Liang Jiugong. Out of options, consumed by fury and despair, she brooded for a long time before letting out a cold laugh.
……
Seeing her mistress jolted awake from another nightmare, Nanny Wu carefully lit a candle and murmured, “Your Highness…”
Noble Consort Wuya clutched the embroidered quilt, lost in thought. “What did Yanxi Palace say?”
After this incident, the Wuya clan could no longer hold their heads high in the Imperial Household Department. The power she had painstakingly built had crumbled to nothing.
“Several of our people were lost, but we finally managed to see Consort Hui.” Nanny Wu hesitated before bowing her head. “He relayed Your Highness’s words faithfully, but Consort Hui… refused outright.”
Though she had anticipated this, Noble Consort Wuya’s heart sank.
“No matter, no matter! There’s still room to maneuver.” She dug her nails into her wrist, a throbbing pain pulsing at her temples, as if trying to reassure herself. “…Consort Hui will change her mind.”
The next morning, under the delighted gazes of the Yonghe Palace attendants, Yunxiu rose with a grimace, rubbing her sore waist. Her steps faltered slightly as she cursed Kangxi a thousand times in her heart.
“His Majesty has gone to court and instructed us not to disturb you, Madam. He also ordered the kitchen to prepare warm, easily digestible meals.” Ruizhu helped her to the dressing table, covering a smile. “His Majesty is truly considerate.”
Considerate?
More like guilty.
Yunxiu recalled his words—“I’ll rest in Yonghe Palace again tonight”—and her expression stiffened.
She comforted herself inwardly: The Emperor’s… attentions weren’t half bad. She had enjoyed herself…
At least her body wasn’t left unsatisfied.
As the wooden comb glided through her dark hair, Yunxiu half-closed her eyes and suddenly asked, “Did Yintang cry last night?”
Ruizhu’s hands paused briefly. After a moment’s hesitation, she admitted, “Madam, the ninth prince gave Chief Steward Liang quite the trouble. Earlier, when His Majesty stopped by the nursery before court, the prince not only refused to be held but also… also…”
A bad premonition struck Yunxiu.
“Also what?”
……
During the morning court session, the ministers kept their eyes downcast, not daring to glance at the two red scratches marring the Emperor’s cheeks—though their minds buzzed with countless theories.
The more observant officials noticed matching claw marks on Chief Steward Liang’s face, haphazard yet symmetrical, one on each side.
They inwardly winced and bowed their heads even lower…
For the first time in his decade-long reign of punctual court sessions, Kangxi felt distinctly uncomfortable.
Seated stiffly on the throne, the stinging on his cheeks burning, he declared with unusual haste:
“Court is dismissed!”
