"Oh? What would bring Us immense joy?"
A deep, unexpected voice rang out, startling the Crown Prince so much he nearly jumped.
The next moment, a figure in bright yellow robes came into view—none other than his father, the Emperor, whom he had just casually mentioned!
Crown Prince: "..."
Even wishing upon a star couldn’t make things happen this fast.
Kangxi’s expression was complicated, his heart equally so. He had thought the wailing came from Baocheng, but it turned out little Yinqi was also involved.
Witnessing such a heartwarming scene of brotherly affection, he first felt a surge of pride, secretly thinking that the Crown Prince was indeed resilient, unshaken by external matters—truly fitting for a future ruler.
Yinqi also deserved praise. So young, yet so diligent and virtuous! The Empress Dowager had raised him well, and Xiuxiu had taught him splendidly.
But upon closer listening, the Crown Prince’s words sounded suspiciously like… deception?
Tears welling in his eyes, Yinqi clutched his brush. Hearing his father’s voice, his dark eyes lit up as if he had found a savior. Pitifully, he whimpered, "Imperial Father, I don’t want to practice calligraphy anymore… strengthening my arms is too hard…"
Kangxi pondered for a moment before understanding.
He waved his hand, signaling Liang Jiugong and the others to step back, then strode forward and raised an eyebrow. "Which character requires filling an entire sheet?"
The Crown Prince had a sinking feeling. The next second, Yinqi proudly held up a practice sheet, his chubby finger pointing at a monstrously large character—"big"—so sprawling it was barely recognizable.
"Second Elder Brother said that calligraphy isn’t just about beauty but also about imagery and grandeur! A 'big' character that doesn’t fill the page isn’t truly 'big'!"
Then he pointed at a tiny "small" character cramped in the corner, no larger than an ant. "The contrast makes it vivid! And it trains arm strength. But writing is so hard…"
The Crown Prince subtly inched away, gritting his teeth. This troublemaker of a brother!
The wailing resumed as Yinqi, sniffling with a reddened nose, lamented, "If distinguishing 'big' and 'small' is this terrifying, what about 'thick' and 'thin,' 'long' and 'short'? How will I survive?"
In an instant, Kangxi understood everything.
The corner of his mouth twitched as he side-eyed the Crown Prince, who was now pretending nothing had happened.
Since when was calligraphy practiced like this? He had never heard of such a method!
Well, the Crown Prince was still young and playful. The Emperor didn’t mind—in fact, he was relieved. If the boy had been sulking with red-rimmed eyes, he would have been far more concerned.
But there were limits to teasing one’s younger brother. Yinqi was mischievous, but a light scolding would suffice. Look how frightened the poor child was!
Though this "punishment" of calligraphy wasn’t truly harsh, forcing a child under six to fill entire sheets with oversized characters was exhausting.
Kangxi’s heart ached at once.
Facing his beloved son, he couldn’t bring himself to scold him. Suppressing a sigh, he took Yinqi’s hand and comforted him gently.
"How many sheets did your Second Elder Brother assign you?"
"Six."
"And today?"
"T-two."
Kangxi fell silent.
Then, his obedient fifth son wiped his tears and asked hopefully, "Imperial Father, can I skip lessons like Second Elder Brother? After the New Year, I don’t want to study anymore."
Hearing this, the Crown Prince immediately lowered his head, shoulders shaking as he stifled laughter.
Kangxi: "..."
The words "skip lessons" and "don’t want to study" struck the Emperor like a blow to the chest. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Yinqi was Xiuxiu’s child, and he had just cried. Unlike his sturdy eldest son, Yinqi couldn’t be scolded or punished.
Kangxi nearly laughed in exasperation. Suppressing his temper, he said sternly, "You’re certainly honest."
His other sons competed fiercely in studies and martial arts, fearing to fall behind. Only Yinqi… only Yinqi would…
It was just six sheets of calligraphy!
Yinqi, no longer crying, accepted what sounded like praise without hesitation. Softly, he replied, "Mm. Thank you, Imperial Father. Mother says the same."
Kangxi rubbed his temples, forcing down the urge to discipline the boy. Slowly, he said, "You may not skip lessons. Nor may you stop studying. This is Our decree!"
In this entire palace, not one of Our sons is anything but trouble!
Whether it was the truth behind Yinzuo’s poisoning or the shocking false accusations against the Crown Prince, the Grand Empress Dowager and the Emperor had ordered absolute secrecy. Not a whisper leaked out.
Just as speculation ran rampant about Noble Consort Wu’s visit to Cining Palace, the Grand Empress Dowager issued several edicts that sent shockwaves through the Forbidden City.
Noble Consort Wuya of the Wuya clan had succumbed to madness, deemed incurable. She was relocated from Yonghe Palace to the western courtyard of Jingqi Pavilion. Fifth Princess Moyaqi’s lineage records were altered, reassigning her to Concubine Duan, who would raise her in the main hall of the Palace of Great Sunshine.
Jingqi Pavilion, situated in the northernmost part of Ningshou Palace, was a desolate place with aged furnishings—no different from the cold palace. The news spread like wildfire: madness, losing her child—had Noble Consort Wu been banished to the cold palace, never to rise again?
What had she done to deserve such a fate?
Amidst the murmurs, everyone sought answers about what had transpired that morning. But aside from the Imperial Noble Consort, who had orchestrated it all, and Yunxiu, who had her "special channels," no one knew the truth.
Seeing that Yanxi Palace remained untouched, Consort Hui sighed in relief before her expression darkened again.
Noble Consort Wu was now a useless pawn. All her efforts in organizing Moyaqi’s full-month celebration had only benefited another.
Though furious, she had no time to dwell on it. Yinti had been punished with kneeling again, and Consort Hui was too busy maneuvering on her son’s behalf to spare energy elsewhere.
When Consort Rong heard the news, her eyes flickered before she dismissed her attendants.
She had her suspicions but couldn’t be certain whether this was connected to the poisoning of Prince Rong.
Recalling what her chief maid had witnessed months ago, Consort Rong pinched herself and paced around Zhongcui Palace, exhaling slowly. Now wasn’t the time. She would wait for a better opportunity…
In Chengqian Palace, the Imperial Noble Consort had anticipated the Grand Empress Dowager’s edicts. Yet when the one decree she most desired failed to materialize, she smiled faintly before coughing violently.
"My health is in ruins, yet the Grand Empress Dowager and the Emperor still distrust me so."
Moyaqi’s lineage had been altered, but Fourth Prince’s had not. Still, the Imperial Noble Consort wasn’t anxious.
According to Nanny Zhen’s son-in-law, a palace steward, her clan had persuaded her parents to send her second younger sister into the palace.
As an Imperial Noble Consort of no further use to her family, she would be discarded without hesitation. The Tongjia clan needed a prince of their own blood. Since she could no longer bear children, her sister would have to!
Would they succeed?
Wishful thinking.
The Imperial Noble Consort laughed coldly. Her clan was foolish, but her father wasn’t—yet he was willing to gamble regardless.
Had they not yet realized the Emperor’s cold-hearted nature? Did they truly believe her sister’s beauty would win his favor and secure a prince?
What a joke!
The Imperial Noble Consort had no intention of stopping them. If her family saw her as expendable, she would use them in return.
It won’t be long now… The Fourth Prince can only be her child.
The moment the imperial decree was announced, Concubine Duan felt as though she had been struck by a pie falling from the sky!
The loneliness of the deep palace was no exaggeration. The concubines and ladies all longed to bear the Emperor’s children, hoping for a son or daughter to rely on in their later years. It was said that the first half of life depended on favor, while the latter half relied on offspring—who would willingly face a solitary end?
A mother’s status rose with her child’s, and who wouldn’t covet such an advantage?
Among the concubines, aside from Consort Cheng and Noble Consort Wu, who had moved to the Pavilion of Scenic Happiness, only Concubine Duan had once given birth to a daughter. Sadly, the frail child had passed away before reaching her first birthday.
As she grew older and gradually lost the Emperor’s favor, Concubine Duan had entertained the idea of adopting a child. Looking down the line, only the Seventh Prince and the Eighth Prince were suitable candidates. However, the Seventh Prince, born to a low-ranking consort, suffered from a foot ailment, and judging by the Emperor’s attitude, there was no intention of handing him over to another to raise.
The most suitable, the Eighth Prince, had been given to Consort Hui. As for the Ninth Prince and the Tenth Prince—how could she ever qualify?
Among the princesses, the Second Princess was born to Consort Rong, while the Third Princess belonged to Noble Lady Bu. Due to Noble Lady Bu’s shortsightedness and desperate pleas to the Emperor, the Third Princess had no adoptive mother and had grown up in the Southern Three Halls.
The Fourth Princess, born to Noble Consort Le, was raised under Consort Yi’s care… As for the Fifth Princess, Noble Consort Wu herself had the right to raise her, so no matter how much Concubine Duan coveted, it was of no use.
For years, Concubine Duan had abandoned the thought of raising a child and turned to Buddhism, praying daily for her deceased daughter.
Not long ago, Concubine Xi had urged her to join in accusing Consort Yi of monopolizing the Emperor’s favor at Cining Palace. After much hesitation, Concubine Duan had refused.
Had she been younger, she might have been sorely tempted. But now, without children or favor, what difference would it make even if Consort Yi’s standing were ruined?
No matter what, the Emperor would never step foot in her Palace of Great Sunshine again.
Watching as the four concubines who had made the accusations suffered one after another, Concubine Duan sighed in relief and counted herself fortunate.
These were turbulent times. Not long after, Consort Hui also suffered a major setback, further cementing Concubine Duan’s resolve to stay out of trouble and tend to her own affairs.
Yet, out of nowhere, she suddenly had a child of her own!
Not as the adoptive mother of the Fifth Princess, but as her birth mother. The imperial genealogy had been altered, and all traces of Mrs. Wuya had been erased. From now on, she would hear Moyaqi’s sweet, adoring voice calling her "Mother."
Concubine Duan took the swaddled child into her arms, weeping with joy until her makeup was ruined.
She spoke in a flustered rush, "The little princess is delicate—you must all be extra vigilant… Prepare my chambers for her as her boudoir… Move the trunks from the inner room to the side hall!"
The palace maids hurried to comply, their faces alight with joy.
The Palace of Great Sunshine hadn’t seen such liveliness in years, bustling with activity and cheer. Before long, led by Concubine An, Concubine Jing, Concubine Xi, and Consort Ping arrived together, offering a flood of envious words and congratulatory gifts.
Among them, Consort Ping remained relatively composed, confident in her youth that she would bear children. The other three concubines, however, struggled to hide their turmoil. Though they smiled and exchanged pleasantries, their eyes shot endless daggers of jealousy, regret, and resentment at Concubine Duan.
Even if it was just a princess, they had longed for one for years. And to make matters worse, Concubine Duan was now officially recorded in the imperial genealogy as Moyaqi’s birth mother—irrevocably so!
What virtue did Lady Dong possess? Just because she hadn’t joined in the accusations?!
Yanxi Palace.
Noble Consort Niu Gulu took a sip of hot tea and said to Yunxiu with a smile, "…Naturally, it’s because she knew how to stay out of trouble and didn’t involve herself in the accusations."
The Tenth Prince’s full-month celebration had been held just five days prior, and Noble Consort Niu Gulu, appearing in public after a long absence, looked radiant and healthier than ever, her figure slightly fuller than when she first entered the palace.
With the Imperial Noble Consort stripped of her dignity and Consort Hui also lying low, Noble Consort Niu Gulu now held undisputed authority. Perhaps recognizing this, Consort Rong, who had once fiercely contested power with Consort Hui, now knew her place and performed her assisting duties without overstepping.
Yunxiu was content to laze about, increasingly reluctant to leave her palace these days. Noble Consort Niu Gulu had no choice but to personally bring over a few account books to "cure her laziness."
After some lighthearted banter, their conversation drifted. When the topic turned to Concubine Duan, Yunxiu grew serious and said gently, "I underestimated the depth of the Emperor’s disgust for Mrs. Wuya…" To think he had altered the Fifth Princess’s genealogy and even reclaimed Yonghe Palace.
Now that events were diverging further and further from the path in her dreams, and the future Empress Dowager would no longer be Noble Consort Wu, her initial goal had been partially achieved. At the same time, she sighed softly—what was the point of all this endless scheming in the palace?
Her melancholy came and went quickly. Yunxiu smiled faintly. If others insisted on fighting, she would gladly oblige.
Noble Consort Niu Gulu, who disliked Noble Consort Wu, also expressed regret. "She would have been the perfect pawn to keep Consort Hui in check. Now, she’s useless to us."
"You and your meticulous calculations. Wouldn’t it be better if she simply stayed out of trouble?" Yunxiu covered her lips with a laugh and was about to ask after the Tenth Prince’s well-being when Noble Consort Niu Gulu’s chief maid hurried in, lifting the curtain. She curtsied and whispered, "Your Highness, Lady Yunxiu, there’s been a major incident at court…"
Noble Consort Niu Gulu’s expression darkened. "Speak."
Yunxiu set down her teacup and asked, "Did something happen to Suo Etu?"
"You’re right—it’s about Lord Suo." The maid caught her breath and continued, "The Emperor summoned the Deliberative Council of Princes and Ministers and dismissed Lord Suo on charges of 'misconduct and arrogance,' demoting him from first-rank duke to first-rank earl, fining him five years’ salary, and stripping Hesheli Xinyu and Fabao of their positions…"
Xinyu and Fabao were Suo Etu’s younger brothers, all punished by Kangxi under the accusation of "negligence."
Hearing this, Noble Consort Niu Gulu’s face grew grave. After a long silence, she closed her eyes and murmured, "The heavens are shifting."
From now on, wouldn’t Mingzhu dominate the court unchecked?
No sooner had Consort Hui been suppressed than Yanxi Palace was about to become troublesome again.
Yunxiu shook her head lightly and smiled, reassuring her. "The heavens won’t shift. Everything follows the principle of balance—just wait and see. As for Consort Hui… however she rose, we’ll press her back down!"
