This time, Qi Daiyu didn’t have to pretend to be sick—she genuinely was.
Even after taking medicine, her fever persisted. By midnight, realizing she still hadn’t broken the fever, she didn’t dare tough it out. She knocked over a teacup by her bedside, and Putao, who was on night duty, heard the noise and hurried in. Seeing the situation, she immediately sent Little Cheng, who was guarding outside, to fetch the imperial physician.
By the next morning, Qi Daiyu learned that her illness was caused by a combination of fright and external pathogens.
She figured it was due to the shock of Consort Ma’s death, followed by the stress of the incident involving the Eldest Princess. At the time, her back had been drenched in sweat, and she hadn’t changed her clothes promptly, leading to a chill that later developed into a fever.
This illness stripped away the little weight she had painstakingly gained, leaving her face gaunt again.
Shiliu and Putao were heartbroken seeing their mistress so thin. Yet, Qi Daiyu herself seemed perfectly at ease, spending her days cooped up in the study, tinkering with something called "sanitary pads."
Yes, Qi Daiyu had finally managed to create them. While they couldn’t compare to modern versions, they were a significant improvement over the crude menstrual cloths in terms of convenience and usability.
Her "sanitary pads" came in two styles: one with waist ties and another without.
The former had thin straps that needed to be fastened around the waist. To complement the strapless version, she also designed some triangular undergarments.
Qi Daiyu enlisted Xiangli’s help to sew the prototypes. When the finished products were ready, Xiangli couldn’t even bring herself to look at them.
The thought of her mistress wearing such undergarments… Xiangli’s imagination ran wild, and she kept her head bowed, her ears burning crimson.
Qi Daiyu wanted all the maids in Yanqing Residence to switch to these for hygiene’s sake, offering to cover the extra cost of cotton. But Shiliu, Putao, and the others adamantly refused.
Blushing, they insisted, "We’re just servants—menstrual cloths are enough for us."
Truthfully, they found menstrual cloths perfectly adequate. As attendants to a noble lady, they even had the privilege of using cotton ones. The only inconvenience was restricted movement during their cycles. But the waist-tied version their mistress had made… it just looked…
Indecent. That was Putao’s verdict.
As for the undergarments, which exposed half the buttocks—they couldn’t accept them at all.
"Mistress, you should be the only one wearing these. His Majesty would surely… appreciate them," Shiliu stammered, her face reddening as she mistakenly assumed this was Qi Daiyu’s latest ploy to catch the Emperor’s attention.
Qi Daiyu: "…"
She gave up trying to persuade them.
During her convalescence, the Empress specially sent Mei Yi to visit, bringing along a trove of medicinal herbs and tonics.
Mei Yi relayed that Her Majesty wished Concubine Qi to rest well and not trouble herself with outside matters.
Qi Daiyu acknowledged this and inquired about the Eldest Princess’s recovery.
Mei Yi hesitated, her tone somber. "The Eldest Princess has suffered two more convulsions." Not wishing to dwell on the topic, she changed the subject. "The New Year is approaching. Concubine should focus on recuperating. Perhaps something auspicious will happen during the banquet."
After Mei Yi left, Qi Daiyu fell into deep thought.
"Mistress?" Even when Putao handed her the inventory ledger, she didn’t hear a word.
Qi Daiyu asked, "Do you know if His Majesty or any of the princes ever experienced the same condition as the Eldest Princess did that day?"
Shiliu and Putao exchanged glances. "Mistress, we are younger than His Majesty. By the time we entered the palace, he had already moved to the princes' quarters. As for His Majesty's childhood experiences, only the wet nurses who cared for him would know. But those nurses have all retired outside the palace. The only one in the palace who might still know such details now is Nanny Zhao, who serves by the Empress Dowager's side."
Yet it was impossible to simply go and ask Nanny Zhao.
"What about the Empress or her siblings?"
"Matters outside the palace are even harder to know. Besides, noble families always keep such things confidential—they would never spread word of it." Who would publicize their child's illness? Even regarding the Eldest Princess's incident, they had been ordered to keep silent.
"Mistress, why do you ask about this?"
Qi Daiyu shook her head. "It's nothing."
She was just a little worried.
Logically, febrile seizures in children under six were quite common, but they shouldn’t occur frequently within a short span of time.
Yet the Eldest Princess had suffered three seizures in just ten days—and Mei Yi hadn’t mentioned the princess having a fever during the latter two episodes.
The symptoms—limbs convulsing, foaming at the mouth—made Qi Daiyu think of another condition: epilepsy.
Among the students she had taught, there had been one case of epilepsy. To care for that child, Qi Daiyu had specifically researched the illness.
Epilepsy could be hereditary, which was why she had asked whether the Emperor or Empress had shown similar symptoms in childhood. But upon reflection, she doubted it was genetic—if either the Emperor or Empress had experienced such episodes as children, the Empress and Empress Dowager wouldn’t have panicked so much that day.
That left external causes. Infections, injuries, even high fevers—many factors could trigger epilepsy in young children. Some cases improved or even disappeared with age, while others were difficult to cure.
She hoped the Eldest Princess didn’t have the latter.
In the Kunning Palace, when Mei Yi entered to deliver her report, she found the Empress sitting in the study, her face weary.
The Empress’s eyes were swollen and red—clearly, she had been crying.
Just the day before, Imperial Physician Chang had confirmed that the Eldest Princess’s condition was no longer ordinary febrile convulsions but likely epilepsy, also known as "falling sickness."
The physician speculated that the illness had been triggered by the high fever the princess suffered on Laba Festival.
Imperial Physician Chang assured them that the Eldest Princess was still young and the condition had only recently manifested, so the chances of recovery were high. Still, the Empress was heartbroken.
How could a princess of the imperial family suffer from falling sickness?
After witnessing Lingyi’s convulsions and foaming at the mouth, the Empress had issued a gag order forbidding anyone from speaking of it. At the time, everyone had assumed it was just febrile convulsions—common in young children—and even if word got out, outsiders wouldn’t have made much of it.
But if the Eldest Princess truly had epilepsy…
The physician warned that epileptic episodes were unpredictable, striking without warning at any time or place. What if the princess had another episode in front of others in the future?
The Empress pressed her fingers to her temples.
She had imposed the strictest secrecy regarding the Eldest Princess’s condition. Aside from Imperial Physician Chang, the Emperor, and herself, only Zhuyi—who cared for the princess—knew the truth. Even Mei Yi and Lanyi had been kept in the dark.
If possible, she wished no one else would ever learn of this.
"Your Majesty, the Eldest Princess will surely be fine. Please ease your heart." Mei Yi, unaware of the full situation, offered comfort. She knew the Empress was distressed, but the palace affairs demanded the Empress's attention—especially with the New Year approaching, as countless matters awaited her decisions and approvals.
Being the Empress came not only with supreme status but also endless responsibilities.
Just as she finished reviewing the banquet menu, Li Lu announced the Emperor's arrival.
"Your humble consort greets Your Majesty."
"Empress, do not worry. With Us here, Lingyi will be safe." Regarding the Eldest Princess's illness, Imperial Physician Chang had already reported to Jiang Yuan. Though he too was pained, he would not show it before the Empress. Tonight, he had come specifically to console her.
Only in front of this person could the Empress let down her guard and reveal her fear and vulnerability.
"How can I not worry? Of all illnesses, why this one? If she were to have an episode in public, how would others see her?" The Empress dared not imagine—her Lingyi mocked for suffering from a strange affliction...
"Who would dare? She is Our personally titled Princess Yong'an, the future Grand Princess of Zhao Kingdom, the jewel of Our palm! If anyone dares disrespect her, We will have their head!"
"Your Majesty..." Tears welled in the Empress's eyes. This was all she needed—the Emperor's assurance. As long as he did not disdain Lingyi, her status would remain unshaken.
"Empress, do not fret any longer. To Us, your health is as precious as Lingyi's." Jiang Yuan wrapped an arm around the Empress's shoulders. In truth, beyond her distress, he feared the harm the illness might inflict on the Eldest Princess. Even if Imperial Physician Chang staked his life on curing her, Jiang Yuan remained uneasy—after all, Lingyi was his daughter too...
Once the Empress had calmed, the conversation inevitably turned to palace affairs.
The Empress had Mei Yi bring forth a register. "Your Majesty has been on the throne for three years. With the grand selection of new consorts approaching next spring, and the current concubines having served since the Eastern Palace days, perhaps we should elevate their ranks beforehand as a gesture of goodwill. I have drafted a proposal—would Your Majesty review it?"
A grand conferment of ranks was an unspoken understanding between the Emperor and Empress. Though Jiang Yuan had not explicitly stated it, the Empress, knowing him well, had prepared the draft. Seeing it now, approval flickered in his eyes.
Taking the register, he scanned the names of the palace consorts.
The ranks of Concubine Shu and Consort Ning would remain unchanged—even though Concubine Shu had recently borne the Eldest Prince.
Above the rank of concubine was the Imperial Noble Consort, a position equal to a deputy Empress, rarely bestowed. As long as the Empress lived, Jiang Yuan would not appoint one.
The titles of Noble Consort and Virtuous Consort remained vacant, and the Empress had left them as such.
Nor did Jiang Yuan intend to promote Concubine Shu.
Consort An's rank was also untouched. The Empress explained, "Consort An was elevated to her current position after bearing the Second Princess. She has enjoyed little favor these past years, so I did not include her in the draft. However, she has raised the Second Princess dutifully. If Your Majesty wishes to promote her, it can be arranged—though only among the remaining concubine titles."
Consort An was Concubine Shu's ally, and the Empress had no desire to see her rise.
There were only nine concubine titles: Noble, Virtuous, Gentle, Dignified, Reverent, Kind, Compliant, Peaceful, and Serene.
Consort Ning was the lowest-ranking consort. If Consort An were to be promoted to the rank of consort, she would have to be placed above Consort Ning—something the Emperor would likely not permit.
Sure enough, Jiang Yuan said, "The Second Princess is still young. Let’s wait a few more years."
The Empress smiled faintly. "As you wish."
Jiang Yuan continued reviewing the list: Noble Lady Qin would be promoted to the rank of consort, Concubine Qi would be promoted to consort, Concubine Miao would be elevated to the rank of noble lady, and Consort Cao would be promoted to concubine.
The others were straightforward—Noble Lady Qin and Concubine Miao were among his favored consorts. But Concubine Qi, promoted two ranks at once?
Noticing Jiang Yuan’s expression, the Empress rose and curtsied. "Your Majesty, the promotion of Concubine Qi is a personal favor on my part. As you know, had it not been for her quick thinking and courage that day, Lingyi’s condition would have been far worse."
Imperial Physician Chang had later confirmed that without those immediate measures, the Eldest Princess could have suffocated, suffered brain damage from high fever, or even sustained irreversible harm to her lungs.
The mere memory of that day filled the Empress with dread, and the more she dwelled on it, the deeper her gratitude toward Qi Daiyu grew. Any previous displeasure she had harbored toward her vanished the moment Lingyi was declared safe.
That day, she had said nothing, but she had resolved in her heart to repay this debt.
Promoting Qi Daiyu to the rank of consort was the Empress’s way of returning the favor.
The Empress reasoned that even if Qi Daiyu truly had no desire to compete for favor, the rank of consort would ensure her security for the rest of her life.
"Your Majesty, Lingyi is my only child. To me, her life is more precious than anything. Since becoming Empress, I have never acted out of personal bias—but this time, I beg for Your Majesty’s leniency. If nothing else, grant this for my sake, to repay Concubine Qi’s kindness." The Empress was staking her own dignity to secure this promotion for Qi Daiyu.
Jiang Yuan’s expression shifted.
He understood the Empress’s reasoning. He acknowledged that Qi Daiyu had indeed rendered a great service, and he was willing to grant the Empress this favor—after all, it was merely the rank of consort.
Had it been anyone else, he would have agreed without hesitation. But it was Qi Daiyu.
Her name plaque had yet to be reinstated after its removal, and his displeasure toward her had not faded. Now, he was expected to confer upon her the rank of consort?
Jiang Yuan cleared his throat. "Empress, I find this... inappropriate."
