When Yunxiu mentioned that Tuyue was about to take up an official post in the capital, Yintang's ears perked up subtly.
He lay sprawled on the brocade quilt, head-to-head and foot-to-foot with the Tenth Prince. At the news, he let out a soft "ah," kicked his legs, and widened his double-lidded eyes.
Uncle Tuyue… as the Left Vice Minister of Personnel?
And this was Mingzhu’s recommendation?
Yintang found it utterly absurd—this had never happened in his past life!
In his memory, by the time he was in his teens, Uncle Tuyue was still stationed in Shengjing, gradually rising from Judicial Commissioner to Provincial Administration Commissioner before being assigned to regional posts for several years. He was on the verge of being promoted to Provincial Governor, and the network of connections he had built over the years was nothing to scoff at.
His uncle was open-minded and exceptionally skilled in governance, having inherited the true expertise of his Maternal Grandfather. His outstanding achievements were earned through genuine ability, with family influence merely serving as an added advantage.
Moreover, his Maternal Grandfather, Sanguanbao, held the Emperor’s favor. If things had progressed steadily, Uncle Tuyue would have undoubtedly become the next pillar of the family, and ascending to a central court position would not have been difficult.
But because Yintang had unreservedly supported the Eighth Brother in the succession struggle, dragging his maternal family into the fray, his uncle’s career, despite its steady promotions, gradually became fraught with difficulties.
Though Uncle Tuyue had enjoyed a period of prestige when the "Virtuous Eighth Prince" dominated the court, the Guoluoluo clan gradually lost the Emperor’s trust. Like a collapsing mansion, they lost imperial favor, military power, and eventually faded into obscurity.
During that grand court assembly, the Emperor personally shattered the Eighth Brother’s ambitions. Afterward, even staunch supporters like Tong Guowei and Ma Qi suffered consequences—let alone the Guoluoluo clan.
His Maternal Grandfather met an inglorious end in his later years, and his uncle was forced into retirement.
If there was one deep-seated regret, this was it. Even when imprisoned or gravely ill, Yintang would sigh heavily at the thought of his maternal family—he had failed his mother, his Maternal Grandfather, and Uncle Tuyue.
……
From the moment he was reborn, Yintang had secretly vowed never to repeat past mistakes. This time, he would ensure the Guoluoluo clan avoided the perils of the succession struggle and protect his elders so they could live peaceful lives.
But now, what was he hearing?
Tuyue was coming to the capital…
Mingzhu had acted without prior approval, intending to promote Uncle Tuyue to Left Vice Minister of Personnel…
The Ninth Prince was horrified. If he recalled correctly, at this time, Mingzhu also held the concurrent position of Minister of Personnel.
Then he inwardly scoffed—how shameless of Mingzhu to resort to such strong-arm tactics!
Whatever consequences Yunxiu could foresee, Yintang naturally could as well. Before he could even begin to worry, he heard his mother and the Noble Consort exchanging gentle yet chilling words about retaliation.
Yintang: "…"
Never mind how this involved Noble Consort Liang and the Eighth Prince—just the icy undertones in the two consorts’ conversation was enough to make one pity Consort Hui and Noble Consort Wu.
The Ninth Prince shivered slightly. Never provoke a woman, especially a mother whose temperament was so different from her past self.
The Tenth Prince didn’t shiver. He silently turned his head to glance at his Ninth Brother, his small eyes flashing with something like disdain before he ducked his head and obediently grinned, putting on a meek act as he cooed at the Noble Consort: "Eeeh—"
Noble Consort Liang resided in a side hall of Yanxi Palace, seldom venturing out and harboring no ambitions for favor. Her only concern was the Eighth Prince, Yinsi, who was being raised by Consort Hui.
But due to Consort Hui’s strict rules, she rarely saw Yinsi. Only when Consort Hui was in a good mood did she get the privilege of spending a day with her son.
Gentle and kind-hearted, Noble Consort Liang was content just to see Yinsi. Even when servants slighted or disrespected her, or when her allowances were secretly withheld, leaving her life impoverished, she never uttered a word of complaint.
Consort Hui despised her for wasting her beauty, which could rival even Consort Yi’s, but at the same time, she found her lack of ambition reassuring.
Among the four or five minor consorts living in Yanxi Palace, Noble Consort Liang was the only one who spent her days sewing clothes, shoes, and hats for her son. She never neglected her morning and evening greetings and remained quiet and unobtrusive. Over time, Consort Hui gradually abandoned the idea of using her to secure favor and began to regard her more favorably.
—Compared to the arrogant and domineering Consort Yi, Noble Consort Liang was hardly worth mentioning.
To ensure the Fifth Princess’s full-month celebration went flawlessly, Consort Hui had been tense, fearing even the slightest misstep. Once the celebration concluded, she finally relaxed, relieved to be rid of the troublesome responsibility. She then coldly ordered someone to return Mo Yaqi to Yonghe Palace.
Noble Consort Wu’s threats weighed on her like a bone stuck in her throat, but for now, the priority was winning over the Guoluoluo clan.
The scheme to promote Tuyue had been Mrs. Wuya’s idea in the first place. For that alone, Consort Hui would let her off for now—she’d deal with her once she had the time!
……
A month earlier, Consort Hui had deliberated at length before carefully composing a long letter to her cousin Mingzhu outside the palace.
After sending the letter, she waited anxiously in Yanxi Palace. Even when the Eldest Prince came to pay his respects, she waved him off absentmindedly, telling Yinti to return to the princes’ quarters and focus on his studies instead of indulging in horseback riding and archery.
Yinti pouted and grinned as he sidled up to her. "Mother, what’s kept you so busy lately? You’re not as attentive to me as before."
Consort Hui rolled her eyes at him, but his playful teasing lightened her mood somewhat.
She smiled faintly and said softly, "What else? It’s all for your sake. Court affairs are in Mingzhu’s hands. Once you begin attending court and participating in governance, I’ll explain everything clearly."
Yinti would turn thirteen after the New Year—old enough by Manchu standards to discuss marriage and not far from attending court. Just as Suo Etu frequently sought audiences with the Crown Prince, Mingzhu would also analyze court affairs for him.
Hearing this, Yinti grew thoughtful for a moment before shedding his playful demeanor. With a solemn expression, he cupped his hands and said, "As you wish! I’ll go study now and live up to your and Uncle’s expectations…" so the Crown Prince would no longer have anything to be smug about.
He didn’t know what had gotten into Yinreng lately. Every time he tried to provoke him with taunts about archery, it felt like punching cotton—only to end up infuriating himself instead.
Once he topped the ranks in academics, he’d see if that insufferable smirk would finally crack!
Consort Hui watched his retreating figure with satisfaction, her anxiety somewhat eased. That evening, Ying'er hurried in with a delighted expression to report, "Your Highness, Lord Mingzhu has sent a reply…"
Consort Hui stood abruptly. "Show it to me at once."
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the letter. After skimming its contents, she exhaled deeply in relief and exclaimed, "Good, this is excellent."
Mingzhu wrote that his memorial now lay on the Emperor’s desk in the study, awaiting approval. If the Emperor consented, all the better. If not, they had nothing to lose.
This was all for show! As long as outsiders believed the Nara and Guoluoluo clans had joined forces, even if Sanguanbao wished to remain neutral, it would be impossible.
Consort Hui beamed with delight as she closed the letter and glanced toward the direction of Yikun Palace, narrowing her eyes slightly. "After so many years in the palace, I haven’t interacted much with Consort Yi, fearing our bond might fade. Ying’er, prepare some fine gifts. In a couple of days, we shall pay her a visit and reminisce."
"Yes," Ying’er replied with a cheerful curtsy. "This servant obeys."
Consort Hui smiled again and added, "Yesterday, when Noble Consort Liang came to pay her respects, she looked so wistful. Let Yinsi, the Eighth Prince, spend a day with her. Out of kindness, I shall spare her the need to come and express gratitude..."
That same day, after submitting his memorial, Mingzhu returned to his residence with an air of calm confidence, simply waiting for His Majesty to summon him.
Yet, the next morning, after the court session, Kangxi did not call for him but instead summoned Hang Ai, the Minister of Revenue, for an audience and even kept him for lunch. The sovereign and his minister deliberated for quite some time.
Like Mingzhu, who held the titles of Grand Secretary of the Wuying Hall, Imperial Tutor to the Crown Prince, and Minister of Personnel, Suo Etu had also once held a nominal position in the Ministry of Revenue. Earlier this year, Suo Etu personally submitted a memorial requesting to resign from his post in the Ministry of Revenue. Kangxi then appointed Hang Ai as the new Minister of Revenue while granting Suo Etu the additional honor of serving on the Deliberative Council of Princes and Ministers. In truth, Hang Ai was Suo Etu’s man.
Upon hearing that the Emperor had summoned Hang Ai, Mingzhu remained unperturbed, showing no sign of disappointment.
Every winter, the court had to prepare for natural disasters such as cold waves and heavy snowfall. The Ministry of Revenue had to allocate disaster relief funds and supplies in advance to prevent delays in the capital’s response to crises in the provinces.
During the court assembly, His Majesty had already emphasized the matter of disaster relief. Now, summoning the Minister of Revenue for discussions likely meant there were important directives to be given privately.
Mingzhu stroked his beard, lost in thought for a moment. To prevent Suo Etu from growing too complacent, it was time to place his own man in the Ministry of Revenue.
As the hour for leaving the office approached, Mingzhu waited in the Grand Secretariat’s chambers for a long time, yet no summons came. Frowning, he sensed something amiss.
Could it be that the Emperor hadn’t yet reviewed the memorial?
When the Grand Secretariat submitted the documents, he had deliberately placed the memorial recommending Tuyue at the very top. That shouldn’t have been overlooked.
...
Meanwhile, in Yikun Palace...
Kangxi accepted the teacup handed to him by Yunxiu and remarked with a sigh, "Sanguanbao has done well in raising his children."
The steam obscured his expression, leaving Yunxiu unable to discern whether he was pleased or displeased.
The abruptness of his words sent a tremor through her heart, but she forced a composed smile and asked, "Why does Your Majesty suddenly mention my father?"
With that, she lowered her gaze, concealing her racing thoughts.
The Emperor must have seen Mingzhu’s memorial.
She just didn’t know whether Suo Etu had received word, whether he agreed with her plan, or if there had been any missteps in the arrangements.
To salvage this situation, timing was crucial! The window had been too short, and her preparations had been rushed—she truly had no certainty of success.
They said the Emperor’s heart was inscrutable. Even if she could guess eight parts of his thoughts, those were merely emotions. Her intuition told her that the Emperor held affection for her, but when it came to matters of state and imperial calculations, who could predict with certainty?
She had hoped to resolve this predicament, but what if it instead provoked the Emperor’s suspicion...
Yunxiu glanced at Liang Jiugong, who subtly shook his head, and she quickly averted her eyes.
Of course. The Emperor rarely kept attendants present during state discussions, so Liang Jiugong likely knew nothing. Taking a quiet breath, she resigned herself to fate—whether heaven favored her or not, she would soon find out.
Then Kangxi gently set down the teacup and gazed deeply at Yunxiu. "I’ve long believed your father to be loyal, but I hadn’t expected his guidance in raising children to be equally outstanding."
Meeting her puzzled look, he took her hand and said in a low voice, "He raised for me the Consort Yi I adore, and also Noble Consort Le—gentle, serene, and of impeccable character."
Yunxiu was momentarily at a loss for words. "..."
Why was he praising her again—even praising Yun Shu?
"...And he also nurtured a talent like Tuyue!" Kangxi continued, his tone warm with approval. "Not only does the Ministry of Personnel seek him, but the Ministry of Revenue does as well. Listen to the recommendations from Mingzhu and Hang Ai—one says, 'Humble and incorruptible, fit only for the post of Left Vice Minister of Personnel,' while the other insists, 'A master of coordination, he must oversee the Ministry of Revenue.' Their eagerness overflows—such a peculiar sight, I’ve never seen before."
The Emperor laughed heartily. "Your elder brother Tuyue is truly a man of rare talent!"
