Long before Kangxi ordered the retreat to the side hall, Liang Jiugong had already hurriedly cleared the area.
Since the Emperor did not dismiss him, the Chief Eunuch stood respectfully nearby as the Imperial Noble Consort spoke, positioned just two or three paces away. He heard every word of her soft, bitter confession clearly.
The elders of the Tongjia clan… wanted to send the Imperial Noble Consort’s younger sister into the palace?
And she actually reported this to His Majesty with such blunt honesty?
Her words were layered—first lamenting her own frail health with genuine sorrow, then masking self-reproach with a touch of mockery, making no effort to hide the rift between her and her family.
Stunned, Liang Jiugong found himself unsure how to react to the Imperial Noble Consort of Chengqian Palace. After a moment’s thought, he decided that caution would never be the wrong approach.
Though she had lost influence, she was still a mistress, still holding the title of the foremost lady of the inner court. She had raised the Fourth Prince, which hadn’t seemed significant before, but when compared to Consort Hui’s so-called "motherly devotion," the contrast became all too apparent.
Unlike His Majesty’s visible disdain for Consort Ping and Concubine Xi, Liang Jiugong stole a glance and saw that the Emperor’s expression remained calm, even bordering on amiable.
There was no smile, and his gaze remained inscrutable, but at least he refrained from sharp words… The Emperor studied the Imperial Noble Consort for a moment, slowly turning the jade thumb ring on his finger.
"Indeed, it has been long since you last saw me, and I, too, have not seen you in some time," Kangxi remarked, almost wistfully. The side hall fell into silence the moment his words faded.
The Imperial Noble Consort’s throat tightened, her emotions a tangled mess. As tears welled in her eyes, she whispered, "Your Majesty—"
But Kangxi abruptly cut her off.
Narrowing his eyes, he clasped his hands behind his back and paced, his expression unreadable. "So, Tong Guowei truly wishes to send another daughter into the palace—to replace you, to bear me a child or two?"
A chill ran through the Imperial Noble Consort’s heart, followed by bitter amusement. What had she been hoping for?
The Emperor was cold and unfeeling. Had she truly expected his pity, his tenderness toward her illness? How laughable. How utterly laughable.
Mrs. Guoluoluo might reign supreme in the harem, unrivaled in favor, but over time, people had mistaken Consort Yi’s position in the Emperor’s heart for something real.
The Imperial Noble Consort sneered inwardly—what difference was there between such favor and the indulgence one might show a pet?
Only Consort Yi, blinded by vanity, reveled in this delusion.
She coughed softly, then dipped into a slight curtsy, her face pale with weakness. "Now, Your Majesty, I no longer fear your ridicule. My father likely believes I will soon be unable to protect the Tongjia clan or its members, for the difficult birth nearly took my life. The imperial physicians say this body can only linger in sickness, bound to bitter medicine…"
She spoke openly of her family, pausing before continuing with a faint smile. "Who knows when I might depart this world to reunite with my lost child beneath the earth? If my sister could take my place by your side, perhaps it would be for the best."
Liang Jiugong shuddered, cold sweat breaking out on his back.
Such words—each one a forbidden utterance in the palace! On New Year’s Eve, no less! Did the Imperial Noble Consort not fear the Emperor’s wrath?
"But I cannot bear it, cousin!" The Imperial Noble Consort could hold back no longer, tears streaming down her face. "In the past, I committed many wrongs—most for the sake of my family—and this is the fate I’ve earned. I disappointed you, I disappointed the Empress Dowager, and I have long regretted it. I… I have failed the imperial family, failed Yinzhen. That child is filial to his core, and I only hate that time is too short to make amends… How could I bear to see my sister walk the same path?"
With that, she prostrated herself fully, her voice choked with sobs. "I beg Your Majesty to crush my father’s ambitions. Do not allow my younger sister to enter the palace—if only to grant this selfish wish I dare not voice!"
Kangxi’s brows had furrowed, his eyes darkening with anger. But as she finished, his expression shifted into something more complex. After a long pause, he finally said, "Rise."
"On New Year’s Eve, speak no ill omens, nor weep so pitifully. It invites mockery," the Emperor said coolly, though his tone softened slightly. "I grant your request."
Before the Imperial Noble Consort could exhale in relief or savor the flicker of joy, Kangxi glanced at her and added, "I only hope that during your convalescence, you will reflect wisely—lest you remain so easily manipulated by others."
The words "easily manipulated" struck like a blow. The gratitude on her lips froze, the joy in her heart turning to ash.
She dared not resent him. Instead, she forced a gentle smile, biting back her humiliation as she accepted his judgment. "This humble consort… obeys Your Majesty’s decree."
At the family banquet, Kangxi’s sudden reprimand of Concubine Xi sent shockwaves through the gathered women—those who had secretly envied and cursed Yunxiu as a fox spirit now trembled in fear. Those who had hoped to catch the Emperor’s eye hastily abandoned their plans, their flirtatious glances vanishing as if frozen in place.
By the time the feast ended, none dared linger. They hurried back to their own palaces to observe the New Year’s vigil. Thus, only the highest-ranking consorts, trailing behind, witnessed the Imperial Noble Consort’s deep bow to the Emperor.
It was Consort Rong, Lady Majia, who spoke first, covering her mouth with a smile as she remarked pointedly, "Perhaps she believes the past is forgiven, that she has regained her standing—enough to dream of her former glory and her family’s rise once more."
The implication was clear. While the others stifled laughter, the Noble Consort shot Yunxiu a questioning look—what had the Tongjia clan done to provoke Consort Rong?
Yunxiu shook her head slightly, then mused. Since her own elevation to consort, the Imperial Noble Consort and Consort Rong had scarcely interacted beyond formal greetings. Unless… could this trace back to grievances from the early years of Kangxi’s reign?
Only Consort Hui’s smile vanished. She fixed Consort Rong with a cold stare. "Sister Rong, mind your words."
"Forgiven past," "regained standing"—who exactly was she mocking?
Consort Rong belatedly realized her words could apply not just to the Imperial Noble Consort but also to Consort Hui herself—the one who had indeed risen again, her family’s fortunes tied to Mingzhu’s influence!
She offered an awkward laugh, though her true thoughts remained hidden.
Back in Zhongcui Palace, Consort Rong shed her feigned embarrassment, her face darkening as she ordered her attendants, "Keep your eyes sharp. Watch Chengqian Palace closely. If the Emperor shows the slightest sign of reconsidering…"
Her voice trailed off, then she drew a sharp breath, clutching her handkerchief. "Consort Hui… Lady Nala. Your downfall will come."
No flower blooms forever. She refused to believe Mingzhu’s influence would last indefinitely!
No matter what had transpired on New Year’s Eve, the palace was alive with festivity on the first day of the new year.
The grand ceremony at the Imperial Ancestral Temple had concluded, with offerings made to the ancestors, a banquet bestowed upon the officials, and the ceaseless echoes of ceremonial cannons. The Emperor, ever filial, had even invited a renowned opera troupe to perform for the two Empress Dowagers. The stage was further enlivened by the addition of skilled storytellers. Yunxiu picked up a handful of melon seeds, thoroughly engrossed in the performance, while Yinqi, seated behind the Crown Prince, was equally captivated.
"Second Brother, when I grow up, I want to raise a whole troupe of opera performers and have them sing for me every day without repeating a single play," Yinqi declared after spending considerable time learning characters under the Crown Prince's tutelage. His vocabulary had expanded greatly, and now he counted on his fingers with earnest deliberation. "One troupe isn’t enough, nor two... Hmm, I’ll raise eight or ten!"
The Crown Prince coughed, inwardly impressed.
Not even having started formal schooling yet, and already dreaming of opera troupes? If his ambitious mother, Consort Yi, found out, a whipping with a cane would be the least of his worries!
Yinqi’s voice carried far, and every prince within earshot heard him clearly.
The Eldest Prince, Yinti, thought to himself, Fifth Brother truly surpasses his predecessors! If these words reach the Emperor’s ears, it’ll be disastrous!
In his mind’s eye, he could already hear the Emperor’s furious rebuke: "Are your eyes glued to the signboards of opera troupes—"
Yinti shuddered and quickly banished the thought.
The Third Prince, Yin Zhi, curled his lip slightly. How utterly lacking in ambition! What’s so impressive about eight or ten troupes? We are of unparalleled nobility—shouldn’t we flaunt our status? Raising twenty or thirty wouldn’t be excessive.
Beside him, the Fourth Prince, Yinzhen, took the matter seriously. He shook his head disapprovingly, his round face stern. "Fifth Brother, once you enter the Imperial Study, you’ll realize that indulging in trivial pleasures is unacceptable. The tutors will never stop lecturing you."
A flicker of lingering fear passed through his eyes. The Sixth Prince, Yinzuo, chimed in with a childlike lisp, "Fourth Brother is right. Indulging in trivial pleasures is bad. Fifth Brother, shame on you!"
The imperial physicians had declared that the Sixth Prince was no longer as sharp as before, yet his speech was fluent, his reactions no different from usual—no trace of the aftereffects of poisoning remained.
Only Yinzhen knew the truth. The Emperor had separated Yinzuo from his other mother in Jingqi Pavilion. At first, the young prince had cried inconsolably, but as time passed, he gradually forgot about Noble Consort Wu, clinging solely to Yinzhen instead...
Yes, forgot. The toxins had affected Yinzuo’s memory. Now, he no longer cried for his mother!
While Yinzhen grieved, he also felt a sliver of relief. Perhaps this is for the best. After enduring such hardship at such a tender age, Yinzuo deserved nothing but happiness for the rest of his life. As his elder brother, Yinzhen would protect him always, just as the Crown Prince cared for and comforted him.
At this moment, any resentment Yinzhen once held toward his younger brother had vanished. Seeing Yinzuo agree with him, he suppressed the urge to ruffle his hair and instead offered Yinqi a shy smile.
Yinqi: "..."
In the Fifth Prince’s eyes, he had not only been ganged up on by his Fourth and Sixth Brothers but also subjected to blatant bragging!
He let out an exaggerated scoff. Having a full-blooded younger brother is nothing special—I have one too! Except little Ninth Brother couldn’t even speak yet and was utterly useless in backing him up...
For a fleeting moment, Yinqi wished desperately for Yintang to grow up faster.
If I pull on Ninth Brother’s neck and head, will he grow taller?
The next morning, he pestered the Empress Dowager to let him visit his brother. Unable to resist his nagging, she relented, only urging him to return soon. "Your mother is busy and has no energy to deal with you, you little rascal."
Yinqi scratched his head. Busy? With what?
He quickly dismissed the thought and hurried excitedly to Yikun Palace. Before even stepping inside, he heard a burst of laughter, punctuated by the familiar voice of a shameless flatterer: "Auntie, you look as radiant as a celestial maiden today—no, even more beautiful, a thousand times over!"
His round face instantly fell. Yinqi shushed the servants, forbidding them from announcing his arrival, then paced outside the palace gates, scowling as if the world had wronged him.
This scene did not escape the Emperor, who happened to be passing by on his imperial palanquin.
Having heard Yunxiu praise her nephew’s charm on multiple occasions, Kangxi had grown curious. He had been meaning to meet the boy—Yinqi’s future study companion—and test his wit. With no court session today, he had more leisure than usual. Spotting Yinqi from afar, he remarked in amusement, "Why isn’t that boy going inside?"
Liang Jiugong had no idea.
"Your Majesty," he ventured, "shall this servant go ask the Fifth Prince—"
"No need," Kangxi chuckled, waving him off. "I’d like to see what mischief he’s up to."
"Imperial Father—!" Seeing his pillar of support arrive, Yinqi was startled at first, then his eyes lit up. He pointed toward the inner chamber, his expression aggrieved, but before he could speak, Fulu’s saccharine voice rang out again:
"Auntie, if only I’d been born a few years earlier—if only I’d been born into another family—I’d have swept you off your feet with a grand procession and married you first!"
