Under normal circumstances, Yinqi would never have barged into Yinzhen’s courtyard without a second thought—after enduring the "merciless" calligraphy lessons, the Fifth Prince reacted to the sight of the Fourth Prince like a mouse spotting a cat, barely resisting the urge to shrink his neck and shiver.
Rubbing his sore wrist as he recalled the past, Yinqi nearly wept in frustration. Though Fourth Brother was only a year or two older, why did it feel like a whole generation separated them?
No matter how unwilling he was, he had to admit that compared to Fourth Brother, even the Crown Prince seemed gentle beyond measure...
Whenever he encountered Yinzhen, Yinqi would instinctively press himself against the wall, tiptoeing around to avoid him.
But today was different. After suffering repeated blows from Fuqing and Fulu’s combined antics, Yinqi was so aggrieved that he could hardly care about anything else.
With the Crown Prince far away in Yuqing Palace—too distant to offer immediate comfort—he had no choice but to seek solace from Fourth Brother, whose residence was conveniently nearby.
Yinqi stomped over to Yinzhen, wiping his tear-streaked face as he sniffled, "…Does Imperial Father dislike me? One has innate strength, the other a photographic memory. Aside from my status as a prince, I can’t compare to them in anything..."
In just a few words, he poured out his grievances about the study hall, looking up at Yinzhen with hopeful eyes, yearning for warm reassurance.
The response he received was a series of enthusiastic, high-pitched barks: "Woof! Woof woof!"
Yinqi: "..."
Only then did he notice the snow-white Pekingese cradled in Yinzhen’s arms. The puppy, barely more than a newborn, was tiny and delicate, with glossy black eyes like ripe grapes.
The fur around its ears had been tied into a slightly clumsy yet meticulously neat bow. As Yinqi stared, his sorrowful complaints faded into stunned silence.
Now wholly captivated by the Pekingese, his envy grew deeper by the second. "Fourth Brother, where did this dog come from?"
And that bow—could Fourth Brother have tied it himself?
"Consort Cheng carefully picked it out from the kennels. The Seventh Prince liked this one the most," Yinzhen replied with a faint smile, his lips curving slightly. "Imperial Father gave permission for me to keep it..."
Imperial Father had said that since he was now past six years old and living in his own courtyard in the Princes' Quarters, it was time for him to grow into a steadfast young man. A man ought to be self-reliant, but loneliness was inevitable. No matter how much he adored Sixth Brother, he couldn’t cling to Yinzuo forever.
"Consort Cheng will be your new mother… It takes time to grow familiar with one another. There’s no need to force yourself—Imperial Father leaves it entirely to your wishes." The Emperor’s gentle advice still echoed clearly in his mind. "I only wish for you to spend more time with your Seventh Brother."
After a long silence, Yinzhen had taken Kangxi’s words to heart, and his resistance to the idea of revising the imperial records had quietly faded.
The Seventh Prince had been born with a foot ailment and rarely appeared in public—this much Yinzhen knew. Consort Cheng devoted herself to caring for her son, yet she never neglected the Fourth Prince either, dividing her attention so naturally that it felt neither intrusive nor lacking.
Yinzhen found himself fond of the atmosphere in the Palace of Universal Happiness.
Moreover, Consort Cheng often visited Yikun Palace, and he frequently accompanied her. There, he spent time with Fifth Brother and gradually learned of the close bond between their mothers. He also caught glimpses of Ninth Brother, still nestled in his cradle.
A child not yet a year old slept with the most carefree expression, capable of dispelling any gloom—though, admittedly, Ninth Brother burst into tears at the sight of him every time, giving him quite the headache...
Time passed swiftly. After more than half a month, aided by a child’s short memory, Yinzhen made a conscious effort not to dwell on the past, slowly moving beyond his melancholy.
And now, this Pekingese in his arms—Consort Cheng had chosen it specifically to keep him company in the Princes' Quarters, fearing he might feel lonely.
When Yinqi asked about it, Yinzhen touched the bow he’d tied himself and proudly explained the dog’s origins. "Her name is Snowflake. Doesn’t it sound lovely?"
The more Yinqi listened, the more envious he became. His longing gaze remained fixed on Snowflake as a sour feeling bubbled in his chest.
Staring wistfully, he muttered, "Snowflake… not bad. I’ll ask Imperial Father for a dog too, one for my courtyard."
"Imperial Father won’t allow it," Yinzhen said after a brief hesitation, his tone earnest. "He said my calligraphy has improved enough that keeping a pet won’t interfere with my studies..."
The unspoken implication wasn’t lost on the Fifth Prince.
Then, recalling Yinqi’s tearful complaints upon arrival, Yinzhen shot his younger brother a stern look, his round face solemn. "If you’re already neglecting your studies, getting a dog would only lead you further astray!"
"..." Yinqi wilted, his expression blank.
How had the conversation circled back to studying?
The memory of being under Yinzhen’s strict tutelage resurfaced, and he shuffled his feet weakly, insisting in a deflated voice, "Fourth Brother, you don’t understand—Fuqing has a photographic memory! Having him as my study companion is just unfair..."
"That’s precisely Imperial Father’s wisdom at work. You mustn’t complain, Fifth Brother." Yinzhen hugged Snowflake tighter, eliciting a soft, affectionate bark. The corners of his eyes crinkled imperceptibly as he added with utmost seriousness, "A companion with a photographic memory is the best motivation."
Instead of comfort, Yinqi received an even deeper blow. Fighting back a fresh wave of tears, he trudged back to his own courtyard in utter dejection.
That night, he resisted sleep, terrified that closing his eyes would summon the morning sun all too soon.
Sure enough, on his second day in the study hall, Yinqi arrived late—with dark circles under his eyes!
"Late?" Yunxiu paused while changing Yintang’s clothes, her eyebrows arching sharply. "Did his nursemaid misread the hour and fail to wake him?"
At nearly six months old, the Ninth Prince had grown even fairer and plumper. Dressed in thick red robes with a tiny topknot, he resembled nothing so much as an adorable New Year’s painting come to life.
His glass-like eyes sparkled with lively curiosity as he listened intently—
Late?
Honest, rule-abiding Fifth Brother was late?
Something wasn’t right. Based on his two lifetimes of experience, there had to be more to this story!
"Your Majesty, I inquired—it was the Fifth Prince himself who refused to get up. He tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep… It wasn’t the nursemaid’s fault," Ruizhu explained softly, barely suppressing a laugh.
Noticing his mother’s exasperated expression, Yintang would have cackled aloud if not for his current limitations.
Serves you right for dragging Fourth Brother into the warm chamber and making a nuisance of yourself!
Yunxiu tapped her son’s forehead lightly, smiling as she said, "Your Fifth Brother promised me he’d study diligently, only to break his word the very next day. Ruizhu, send word to Yuqing Palace—ask the Crown Prince to discipline his younger brother at his earliest convenience. He may use whatever methods he sees fit… and need not spare my feelings."
In the study hall, Yinqi felt a chill in his heart. After glancing around for a long while and finding nothing unusual, he could only continue reciting his lessons with a bitter expression.
Sigh. Today, he had been late, and the embarrassment was unbearable. Given that it was his first day, the tutor hadn’t said anything, but he still felt nervous, his face burning with shame.
For a moment, his thoughts drifted to his fourth brother Yinzhen’s Pekingese dog, Snow. Then, in another fleeting thought, he remembered his two study companions. Yinqi sighed like a little adult before—eyes tightly shut—his head began to nod, and he couldn’t stop himself from thumping it against the desk.
In the study hall, it was customary for the imperial princes and their study companions to sit together before formal lessons began. During morning recitations, they read aloud in unison, fostering a diligent and studious atmosphere.
No one had ever slacked off before, not only because of their self-motivation but also because Kangxi held his sons to the highest standards.
They were required to recite their texts a hundred and twenty times until they could recite them backward flawlessly. Merely understanding the classics wasn’t enough—they had to grasp the historical allusions behind them and explain them with ease.
Under the watchful eyes of the Grand Tutor and the emperor’s frequent inspections, none of the princes dared to slack off.
They were afraid.
But drowsiness was contagious.
Winter had not yet fully passed, and the quiet arrival of early spring meant the days were still short. At this age, children were naturally prone to sleepiness. Seeing Yinqi succumb first, someone yawned before drowsily slumping over.
One led to another. Fulu rubbed his eyes and, with a clear conscience, fell into a deep slumber, oblivious to the world. Fuqing, equally dazed, followed suit, sinking into sweet dreams. The eldest prince, Yinti, who sat the farthest away, prided himself on being different from these little kids—though sleepy, he could still hold on. Only the Third Prince and Fourth Prince sat closest to Yinqi…
Yin Zhi resisted for a while but ultimately fell victim to the powerful spell of sleep. Only Yinzhen held on stubbornly, muttering to himself, No, if I give in to laziness, the Emperor will take Snow away!
Thanks to his attachment to the Pekingese, the young Fourth Prince pried his eyelids open and successfully maintained his focus.
There was one exception in the study hall—
The Crown Prince sat upright to Yinzhen’s far right, reciting his lessons with solemn focus, seemingly untouched by the drowsiness plaguing the others.
So immersed was Yinreng that he hadn’t noticed his younger brothers and their companions succumbing to sleep—until, moments later, someone began snoring softly, rhythmic and steady.
The Crown Prince: "…"
His lips twitched. He turned his head and froze at the sight—rows of drooping heads and books propped up to shield sleeping faces.
What was going on?
The Grand Tutor had only stepped away briefly…
Before he could ponder further, the Crown Prince stiffened, scanning the room for the source of the snoring. Soon, he found the culprit—Yinqi, the Fifth Prince, who was sleeping the most soundly and deeply.
For a long moment, the Crown Prince was speechless, his anger rising. This is unacceptable! If the Emperor sees this, none of us will escape punishment!
Just as he was about to call out a warning, a flash of bright yellow appeared by the window, followed by an imposing, stern face.
"Your Majesty, this… this old servant…" The Grand Tutor was stunned, his beard quivering with indignation, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
Who would believe such a scene?
The Crown Prince stiffly turned back, rubbing his throbbing temples, wishing he could slap himself for jinxing it.
Why did you have to think it?!
Palace of Universal Happiness.
"In this freezing weather, why has the Emperor summoned Yinqi to Qianqing Palace?" Yunxiu stood abruptly. "Did he anger His Majesty?"
"Your Highness, not just the Fifth Prince—all the princes, from the eldest down to the Crown Prince, have been called," Ruizhu whispered. "His Majesty… has ordered them to reflect on their mistakes."
Hearing this, Yunxiu relaxed slightly. "Just reflection?"
"Some may have been ordered to kneel in punishment, but Chief Eunuch Liang forbade the details from spreading. This servant… does not know the full story…"
