Quan Fuhai delivered the emperor's decree to the Kunning Palace.
Having served the emperor since childhood, he knew well how deeply His Majesty revered the Empress. Fearing she might overthink, Quan Fuhai emphasized, "His Majesty is concerned about your recent exhaustion, which is why he entrusted Consort Ning to assist you. With the New Year approaching, the palace affairs cannot proceed without you. You must take good care of your health."
Upon hearing the decree, the Empress merely smiled and inquired about the emperor's recent diet and sleep, showing no sign of displeasure.
Quan Fuhai answered what he could, and in casual conversation, naturally mentioned the emperor's earlier order to remove Concubine Qi's name from the imperial consort roster.
This news surprised the Empress more than the assignment of Consort Ning to oversee the Laba Festival preparations.
"Understood. His Majesty neglects his health when busy—you must remind him to take breaks," the Empress said.
These were routine remarks, and Quan Fuhai responded smoothly. With another decree to deliver to the Yikun Palace, he did not linger and soon took his leave.
Only after he departed did the Empress frown slightly.
Mei Yi, assuming her displeasure stemmed from Consort Ning's new role, reassured her, "You’ve just finished managing the hunting grounds and are now handling the seasonal palace allowances. The exhaustion shows—His Majesty only wishes to ease your burden."
It couldn’t be an attempt to undermine the Kunning Palace, or else Concubine Shu would have been chosen. Consort Ning, lacking imperial favor, was a safe choice—her involvement wouldn’t threaten the Empress's authority.
The Empress sighed. "It’s not that." A minor festival like Laba mattered little to her. She suspected the emperor had ulterior motives, likely tied to court politics, with Consort Ning merely a suitable pawn. Unfortunately, the Empress knew little of state affairs—her guess was based solely on her understanding of the emperor.
Her real concern lay elsewhere.
Not this? Mei Yi was puzzled. What else could trouble Her Majesty? Then she recalled Quan Fuhai’s words—could it be Concubine Qi?
Mei Yi’s expression shifted.
News of the emperor carrying Concubine Qi on his imperial palanquin and into her residence had spread through the palace like wildfire. That morning, he’d also showered her with lavish gifts.
When Mei Yi and the others learned of this, reactions varied. Ju Yi, the least composed, flushed with anger. "She claimed she sought no favor in front of Her Majesty—what is this, then?"
To seduce the emperor into such a public display—how could this be anything but deliberate?
No one dared—or even considered—blaming the emperor. The fault had to lie with Concubine Qi.
This time, even the rule-bound Lanyi didn’t reprimand Ju Yi.
The timing was too blatant: Concubine Qi had recently refused the Empress’s offer of support, only to make such a spectacle soon after.
As the Empress’s confidantes, Mei Yi and the others couldn’t help but resent Concubine Qi.
Some even wondered—had she defected to Concubine Shu’s faction?
Mei Yi whispered, "Your Majesty, about Concubine Qi..."
The Empress looked perplexed. "I can’t fathom her motives either."
Displeasure? Of course she felt it.
Her care for Qi Daiyu had always been rooted in past gratitude and her own principles. But gratitude was a tangled thread.
From Concubine Qi’s perspective, saving the Empress had cost her three years bedridden—so the Empress’s patronage was only fair.
Yet from the Empress’s view, without that rescue, Concubine Qi might have remained a lowly consort or even a palace maid, neglected and doomed to obscurity.
Many shared the latter view—Ju Yi, for one, believed the debt was settled.
"Everyone has something they cherish. For me, nothing matters more than Lingyi. Had Concubine Qi not intervened back then, my Lingyi might have..." Even with the finest physicians and her nearing term, no mother could ignore the slimmest chance of tragedy.
The Empress murmured, "To me, it was a life-saving grace. Elevating her status and offering protection cost me nothing—why wouldn’t I?" If only to accumulate merit for Lingyi.
"But now, I find Concubine Qi... unfathomable."
Had she secretly allied with Concubine Shu? Impossible.
The Empress saw no logic in it. To outsiders, it would seem the benevolent Empress had tended to an ailing, neglected concubine for years—only for her to betray that kindness upon recovery. What ingratitude.
Unless Concubine Qi cared nothing for reputation, such a move made no sense.
So the Empress doubted any alliance with Concubine Shu.
Her unease stemmed from realizing she didn’t understand Concubine Qi as well as she’d thought.
She’d believed Qi Daiyu genuinely sought to avoid favor—yet now the whole palace buzzed with tales of her imperial attention.
She’d assumed Concubine Qi had changed her mind—but Quan Fuhai reported the emperor had revoked her privilege.
The emperor didn’t act without cause. Concubine Qi must have displeased him.
What was she playing at?
"Your Majesty, perhaps Concubine Qi isn’t as simple as she appears. This palace teems with double-faced souls," Mei Yi ventured.
The Empress lowered her gaze. "True. But I dislike losing control. From now on, treat the Yanqing Residence as any other."
The unspoken message: Concubine Qi would receive no special regard.
A thorn had lodged in the Empress’s heart.
After a brief respite, snow began falling again, layering fresh powder over the half-cleared drifts.
The palace was too vast to clear entirely—only the main paths were kept passable. The rest would wait for spring’s thaw.
Despite daily ginger soup, illness spread among the servants, then to the consorts. Rumor had it Consort Ma of Yonghe Palace was burning with fever.
In this era, a cold was no trifle—it could be fatal. Qi Daiyu, now fiercely protective of her life, took cough medicine at the first symptom. Two days later, the cough eased; after five more, she was fully recovered.
Health restored, mischief beckoned.
Qi Daiyu gazed at the thick snow outside, itching to play—she’d grown up in the south.
What southerner could resist such snow?
Just a little fun—what harm could it do?
Not daring to take any chances, Qi Daiyu decided to fully equip herself. She called in Xiangli, the most skilled seamstress among her maids, and told her she wanted a pair of gloves and ear muffs.
"This is simple. I can make them quickly," Xiangli assured her.
But Qi Daiyu wasn’t entirely convinced by her confidence. She walked over to the desk, spread out a sheet of paper, and sketched the designs she had in mind for the gloves and ear muffs. Though her drawing style was cartoonish, the simplicity of the items made them easy to understand.
"I want them like this," she said.
Xiangli examined the sketches and nodded. "It’s doable!"
Gloves with five fingers might seem a bit unusual, but they’d just require a little extra effort—nothing too difficult. The ear muffs were even simpler, though Concubine Qi insisted on filling them with goose down, which meant sending someone to the Imperial Household Department to fetch some. Such special requests naturally required extra silver.
Fortunately, Qi Daiyu had no shortage of funds at the moment.
And since they were already getting goose down, she figured they might as well take more to make a lightweight yet warm goose-down quilt—perfect for nights when the heated kang made the thick cotton blankets unbearable.
Before cotton became widespread in the Zhao Kingdom, the nobility had often used duck or goose down for bedding. But once cotton cultivation took off, down quilts fell out of fashion, becoming a rarity even in the imperial harem.
Fetching the goose down took longer than usual—Xiao Li returned half an hour later than expected. Qi Daiyu didn’t think much of it, assuming the eunuchs at the Imperial Household Department were slacking off in the cold weather.
Once the ear muffs and goose-down quilt were finished, there was still extra down left. Seeing Little Zhuo and Xiaohuan'er, who were sweeping snow outside, with their ears red from the cold, Qi Daiyu instructed Xiangli to make ear muffs for everyone in Yanqing Residence.
As for the gloves, she didn’t have enough wool yarn left.
When the gloves and ear muffs were finally ready, Qi Daiyu put them on, secretly stuck a few disposable heat packs under her innermost layer, dressed in her thickest palace attire, and draped a cloak over her shoulders before stepping outside.
Stepping into the soft snow, she bent down, formed a snowball, and playfully hurled it at Xiao Li.
"Ouch!" Xiao Li, ever the lively one, pretended to be hit and dramatically collapsed into the snow, his exaggerated grimace sending everyone into laughter.
Yanqing Residence was filled with cheerful sounds.
But the fun didn’t last long. Qi Daiyu soon grew bored—Xiao Li and the others only dared to dodge, never throwing snowballs back at her. Without a proper back-and-forth, what was the point of a snowball fight?
So she turned to building a snowman instead.
This was something Qi Daiyu excelled at. In her past life, she and her colleagues had built snowmen in the office park, much to the delight of children. But back then, the snow was scarce, and the snowmen were small. Here in Yanqing Residence, the snow was plentiful—she could build one as big as she wanted.
With Xiao Li and the others helping, Qi Daiyu constructed a snowman as tall as a person in front of the main hall, decorating it with a nose, eyes, and finally a mouth. With a red cloak, it would’ve looked just like the "Snow King."
Shiliu gasped when she saw the snowman’s face. "If I saw this in the dark, I’d think it was a real person standing there!"
Qi Daiyu chuckled at her reaction—proof of how little they’d seen. But she didn’t want to scare anyone, so she had Xiao Li reinforce the snowman’s legs into a solid base, making it less human-like.
Even so, the intricately crafted snowman drew attention. Even the palace maids on duty at Changchun Palace’s main hall couldn’t resist coming over to admire it.
Still not satisfied, Qi Daiyu summoned Little Cheng and asked him to make a duck-shaped snowball mold. To ensure he understood, she pulled up a reference design on her phone and sketched a cartoon version for him.
Having trained in the artisan workshop for over a month, Little Cheng found this small task easy. The next day, he presented the wooden duck mold—though he couldn’t fathom what his mistress planned to do with it.
Delighted, Qi Daiyu immediately went outside and pressed the mold into the snow, producing a perfect little snow duck.
"Ah! It really looks like a duck—so adorable!" Shiliu and the others exclaimed. They’d never seen such a charming little snow creation before.
Qi Daiyu handed the snow duck to Shiliu. "It’s yours!"
Then she noticed Putao and the others gazing at her with eager eyes.
"Everyone gets one! All of you!" Qi Daiyu declared grandly. What were a few snow ducks? She could fill Yanqing Residence with an entire army of them!
By the time she’d had her fill of fun, the corridors of Yanqing Residence were lined with snow duck sentinels. Qi Daiyu handed the mold to Shiliu.
"Take this to the Empress’s palace for the Eldest Princess to play with."
She was certain no child could resist the charm of snow ducks.
