At dawn, as Emperor Kangxi attended the morning court, Yunxiu styled her hair in a simple double bun, casually adorned with a single hibiscus flower. Her face was bare of makeup as she finished washing up and leisurely began her breakfast.
Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright and captivating, with a faint flush lingering at their corners. Though she wore no powder or rouge, her beauty was all the more breathtaking—like a rain-drenched crabapple blossom, blooming even more vibrantly.
Wenyuan nearly lost herself gazing at her mistress. Finally snapping out of it, she watched Yunxiu’s delicate movements as she ate, feeling both joy and concern—joy at the emperor’s favor toward her lady, and worry over her mistress’s health, having just emerged from her postpartum confinement.
She poured a cup of warm fruit nectar and spoke up, "My lady, it’s still early, and there’s no need for morning greetings today. Why not rest a while longer on the daybed?"
Yunxiu rubbed her waist, set down her chopsticks, and gave a slight nod.
Ever since the Imperial Noble Consort had been bedridden after a difficult birth, the concubines no longer had to rise early for morning greetings, granting the harem an unusual stretch of tranquility.
Now, though the Imperial Noble Consort had recovered enough to reappear, she remained pale and frail, constantly accompanied by medicinal brews. Unable to sustain the daily rituals of courtesies, she had excused the others from paying respects.
But everyone knew the truth—stripped of her authority over the palace, the Imperial Noble Consort’s prestige had crumbled, leaving her in an awkward position within the Forbidden City. If anyone chose to disregard her now, there was little she could do about it.
With the Grand Empress Dowager’s decree, the eunuchs and maids likely held greater respect for Consort Yi and the three other consorts, offering only superficial deference to Chengqian Palace, no longer as attentive as before.
This bitter outcome was one Mrs. Tongjia could not reverse. She could only swallow her grievances in the dead of night.
Meanwhile, Consort Yi was nearing her due date and unable to manage affairs, so two days prior, she had delegated responsibilities among Yunxiu and the others.
Consort Hui eagerly took on the most complex yet lucrative tasks—such as overseeing the imperial kitchens—and threw herself into the work with gusto. Not to be outdone, Consort Rong, as if competing with Consort Hui, claimed the arrangements for banquets, forcefully inserting herself into the matter.
Yunxiu cared little for palace authority.
She let Consort Hui and Consort Rong scramble for duties, leaving her with only a few assignments—either idle and profitless or tedious and obscure. They required more effort to manage but were nothing unfamiliar.
In her dreams, Yunxiu had assisted in managing the harem for decades. What task was unfamiliar to her? What scene had she not witnessed? She knew it all too well—long since grown weary of it.
Moreover, every move they made was under the watchful eyes of the Grand Empress Dowager and the emperor. Attempting to plant spies under such scrutiny was pure fantasy, more trouble than it was worth.
Rather than invite unnecessary complications, she preferred delegating trivial tasks to the servants—like the transcription of Buddhist scriptures for the emperor’s birthday—effortless work that left her free to enjoy her leisure.
Exceedingly relaxed, Consort Yi let out a soft yawn, leaning on Wenyuan’s arm as she made her way to the daybed. Her delicate brows furrowed slightly as she slowly sat down.
Her resentment toward Kangxi deepened another notch. Remembering Ruizhu’s earlier "shocking" report, Yunxiu paused, then curled her lips slightly—though her tone remained low and tinged with morning languor.
"...Once Little Nine wakes, bring him to me."
"Yes, my lady."
...
Upon hearing Yintang had awakened, Yunxiu had the wet nurse carry him over and placed him atop the embroidered quilt, fixing him with a stern gaze.
The bright red swaddling clothes contrasted vividly against the deep crimson brocade, further highlighting Yintang’s fair, tender face. The little one’s dark eyes darted about, meeting Yunxiu’s gaze with an air of utter innocence—so pure and guileless that no one would guess he had committed such a "grave offense," brazenly leaving scratch marks on the imperial visage.
Yunxiu studied him for a long moment before lightly tapping his tiny nose and feigning a sigh. "How utterly audacious. If your imperial father were to lose his temper, even your mother wouldn’t be able to sway him. What then? Not even your Second Brother would dare provoke the dragon so!"
Yintang continued pretending not to understand, flashing his mother a sweet smile before yawning and blowing a tiny bubble.
Earlier that morning, when the Ninth Prince had launched his assault on the emperor’s cheek, he had felt an exhilarating rush—only to be consumed by guilt and regret mere seconds later.
What a feat. In his past life, he’d never have dared such a thing!
Wouldn’t the old man have torn him limb from limb?
Still colored by his past life’s estrangement from the emperor, Yintang hadn’t yet adjusted. Seeing Kangxi’s face flicker between green and pale, he thought, This is it. I’ve miscalculated.
Would bursting into tears now do any good?
Yet to his surprise, the old man merely touched his cheek, heaved an odd sigh, and said to those around him, "When your mistress wakes, don’t hide this little demon’s misdeeds from her."
Liang Jiugong also touched his own face, sharing the sentiment.
Little demon? More like a full-fledged devil!
Then, the chief eunuch consoled himself—if even His Majesty couldn’t escape the little prince’s claws, he ought to be grateful the boy had spared him.
...
The emperor showed not a hint of anger. After his remark, he strode off in high spirits, leaving Yintang gaping in his cradle before secretly rejoicing.
Now, hearing his mother’s exaggerated warnings, the Ninth Prince remained utterly unfazed, his act of innocence seamless. With a soft pop, the tiny bubble he’d blown burst.
The servants stifled their laughter.
How could the little prince possibly understand the lady’s words?
Yunxiu thought otherwise.
She shook her head, pretending to be cross. "To think my scolding has no effect at all. Ruizhu, at noon, take the Ninth Prince to Qianqing Palace. Let His Majesty punish him as he sees fit—no need to spare my feelings."
Her tone was stern and resigned, quite convincing. Given how often she’d tricked him in this life, Yintang believed her.
Yintang: "..."
Mother, are you even my real mother?
I’ve only just turned a month old!
The flicker of terror in the Ninth Prince’s pitch-black eyes made Yunxiu cough lightly, hiding a smile behind her hand. "Enough, I won’t tease you anymore."
She was now certain that Yintang’s body housed no wandering spirit—but a familiar one, very familiar.
Recalling scenes from her dreams, she narrowed her peach-blossom eyes and hummed softly. Sooner or later, you’ll slip up.
Abruptly, Yintang felt a chill. He glanced around suspiciously before turning back with wide, innocent eyes.
Who’s cursing me?
...
After a tender moment of play between mother and son, a quarter-hour later, Nanny Dong came to announce that Consort Cheng had arrived with the Seventh Prince to pay respects.
Yunxiu brightened, smoothing her robes as she rose from the daybed. "Show them in at once."
Consort Cheng wore an indigo gown, understated and unassuming, her gentle features radiating quiet warmth. Holding the hand of her slightly stumbling son, Yin You, she smiled upon seeing Yunxiu. "This humble one greets the lady. Yin You, pay your respects to your Aunt Yi..."
Nearly four years old, the Seventh Prince was as lovely as jade, resembling a delicate little girl. Unaccustomed to venturing out, he clung to his mother’s hand, peering around shyly before murmuring a soft, "Aunt Yi."
"Good child, have some treats. Tell me what you’d like to drink, and I’ll have it brought for you." Yunxiu pinched Yin You’s round cheeks affectionately, her voice tender—prompting Yintang to babble protests from the bed.
He had never heard of any interaction between his mother and Consort Cheng. In his previous life, Consort Cheng resided in Yonghe Palace, which led to a close relationship between the Seventh Prince and the Fourth Prince. But now, everything seemed reversed.
Yes, it was all because of that troublesome Consort Ping. His mother was doing this to vent her anger on behalf of the Fifth Prince.
Ninth Prince Yintang felt a sourness in his heart. The Fifth Prince was one thing, but his mother was also so gentle toward the Seventh Prince. The contrast made him feel like an outsider, as if he had been picked up from the streets.
Ever since Yunxiu suggested to Kangxi that Consort Cheng be promoted, Lady Daijia gradually distanced herself from Yonghe Palace and began visiting Yikun Palace more frequently.
Yunxiu understood Consort Cheng’s temperament—she was kind-hearted but had lived cautiously, treading on thin ice in the palace due to her child’s congenital disability.
From beginning to end, she harbored no ambitions; she merely sought shelter for Yin You.
Being elevated from a low-ranking concubine to a consort was nothing short of a life-changing favor. Gaining her gratitude was an unexpected boon for Yunxiu.
The last time Consort Cheng came to express her thanks, her words were filled with sincerity and deep affection for Yin You, moving Yunxiu as well. Since then, Consort Cheng frequently visited Yikun Palace, and after several exchanges, everyone understood her intention to pledge allegiance.
"His Majesty dotes on you, Your Highness, but there are those vile individuals in the palace who scheme to tarnish your reputation," Consort Cheng said, withdrawing her tender gaze from the child and lowering her voice solemnly. "Some even plan to complain before the Empress Dowager, claiming that the Emperor has neglected their palaces for too long—they intend to monopolize his favor!"
That’s all for now, but there will be another update today! At least four thousand words more!
