Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel) - Chapter 24

Every concubine in the palace has a cat with a grand name. There’s one called “Snow Jade,” the Empress Dowager’s cat, a pure white Persian. Another is “Roaring Iron,” the black-haired cat belonging to Consort Yi…

Who knows what strange and whimsical thoughts reside in Cheng Gege’s mind? Crown Prince Yinreng could hardly bring himself to call the tiger-striped tabby in front of him—its long fur just regrown and its forelegs still marked with fierce scars—by the name “Mi Mi.”

Yet the cat had clearly been well-trained by Cheng Wanyun. Whenever “Mi Mi” was called, it would come over and affectionately rub against her. In the courtyard, fish and shrimp jerky were strung on bamboo poles, secretly caught by Tianjin from the South Garden’s lotus pond as “cat food.”

“Your Highness, this cat’s loyalty is fickle. Don’t be fooled by its current snarling at you,” Cheng Wanyun said, noticing the repressed envy in the Crown Prince’s eyes. For a cat lover to go years without petting a cat—how cruel must that be? She continued, “Just scoop out a spoonful of goat’s milk and offer it from a distance. Watch how it…”

He Baozhong wanted to intervene. As he watched the Crown Prince approach the cat with a bowl of goat’s milk, the cat arched its back, bristling, and retreated step by step into a corner. Unable to escape, it began baring its teeth. He Baozhong’s heart leapt into his throat—if the Crown Prince got scratched, he didn’t know whether the cat would survive, but he was certain he wouldn’t.

Yinreng scooped up a small spoonful of milk. Mi Mi bared its teeth and growled.

Slowly, he extended the spoon towards the cat. Mi Mi continued growling but its nose began twitching at the scent.

With a flick of his wrist, Yinreng quickly brought the spoon close to Mimi’s mouth. Feeling threatened, the cat opened its mouth wide to hiss, but instead, its tongue caught the taste of the milk. Its fierce expression froze. Tentatively, it stuck out its tongue and licked cautiously…

‘Slurp, slurp…’ The milk was gone.

Mi Mi tried to bare its teeth again, but Yinreng, quick as lightning, offered a second spoonful.

And so the cycle repeated. Yinreng was so amused he nearly burst out laughing.

The whole room joined in with laughter.

“How is this cat fickle? It’s completely devoted now!” Yinreng laughed so hard his hand almost shook. The cat had now placed both its front paws on his arm, refusing to let him go.

Seizing the opportunity, he reached out with his other hand to scratch its head. Mi Mi twitched its ears but kept drinking, completely absorbed.

Feeling triumphant, Cheng Wanyun chimed in, “See? With its personality, calling it Mi Mi isn’t such a bad choice, is it?”

“Quite fitting,” Yinreng agreed. This cat was truly a clingy little thing.

After feeding the cat, Yinreng personally took a comb to groom it. Occasionally, he scratched its chin or patted its back, showcasing petting skills worthy of a professional. Mi Mi was in such bliss it didn’t know where it was anymore, even raising its rear voluntarily for more pats while purring indulgently.

Hearing the cat’s overly sweet meows, Cheng Wanyun couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Even in her thoughts, she hadn’t dared hope to be treated so attentively by the Crown Prince.

What she thought was just internal musings ended up escaping her lips in a low mutter. Yinreng raised an eyebrow at her words, smirking, “Don’t worry, tonight it’s your turn.”

Qingxing and Bitao lowered their heads to stifle their laughter. Cheng Wanyun: “…”

She truly hadn’t meant it that way.

But whether she meant it or not hardly mattered anymore. What mattered was that the Crown Prince hadn’t visited the inner courtyard for a month, and his restraint had clearly worn thin. Her sturdy, intricately carved purple sandalwood bed creaked and swayed under the strain.

By the end, she couldn’t even kneel properly. After several rounds, for the first time, she clung to the Crown Prince’s neck, sobbing and crying out, “Second Master, Second Master… I can’t take it anymore…”

In response, Yinreng bit her ear and gently coaxed, “Good girl, A Wan.” Then, without hesitation, he scooped her up by the legs and held her close.

She let out a sharp cry, collapsing onto his shoulder, completely drained and barely conscious.

Yinreng, equally breathless and drenched in sweat, felt utterly satisfied both in body and spirit. The two of them stayed entwined, savoring the lingering warmth of their intimacy.

After a long while, they finally regained their composure, and he called for water.

Qingxing blushed deeply as she helped Cheng Wanyun change clothes, avoiding eye contact. Cheng Wanyun’s body was covered with red marks from fingers, and, of course, the Crown Prince wasn’t unscathed either—there was a clear bite mark on his shoulder.

He was changing at the other end of the room, his broad shoulders and narrow waist casting a clear silhouette on the screen under the lamplight. This was the physique of someone who had practiced martial arts for years, not the artificially bulked muscles fed by protein powder in modern gyms. The lean, defined lines of his waist and hips drew Cheng Wanyun’s gaze repeatedly, and she couldn’t help but think to herself—she had no regrets.

—

In stark contrast to the lively atmosphere in Cheng Gege’s courtyard, Side Concubine Li’s residence felt cold and desolate.

Inside, Lady Li was copying Buddhist scriptures. A freshly completed scroll lay drying on a long table. Spring Stream carefully rolled it up and placed it in the newly set-up small shrine in the next room.

Every day, Lady Li copied three scrolls and sorted Buddha beads for an hour.

Though she never left her chambers, she still knew everything happening in the courtyard.

The Crown Prince had entered the inner court. He had visited Cheng Gege again. He had even given her half a bowl of loquats.

After finishing another scroll, Li paused and rubbed her wrist. Her gaze fell on the identical half bowl of loquats sitting on the table.

The fruit’s skin had begun to rot. She hadn’t touched a single piece, merely watching it decay.

She understood the Crown Prince’s message.

Her month of scripture copying had earned her this reward—not as a gesture of affection but as praise for her compliance and a command to continue being obedient. But did he ever consider what kind of life this was? A woman without her husband’s love, without children to accompany her, trapped in a deep courtyard, speaking only to Buddha statues day after day.

Many childless concubines in the palace lived this way. But ‘she’ would not accept it.

Li suppressed the pain in her lower abdomen, gritted her teeth, and picked up her brush again:

“Profound and subtle is the unsurpassed Dharma; it takes countless eons to encounter. Now that I see, hear, and receive it, I vow to comprehend the Tathagata’s true meaning…”

What were countless hardships and trials? From the moment she lost her child, she had resolved to fight to the end. She would not live a silent, insignificant life. A temporary cold shoulder was nothing—she would not let it end this way. They would all see.

Li smiled coldly. Behind her, sandalwood incense burned quietly, its white smoke curling upwards. The alabaster Guanyin statue in the shrine gazed down with lowered eyes, as if looking at her with pity.

—

Equally lifeless was the West Wing Hall where Yang Gege resided.

Since that late-night scolding from the Crown Prince, Yang Gege seemed to have lost all her spirit. She didn’t dare leave her chambers or face anyone. She spent her days sitting before the mirror, staring at her gaunt reflection.

Eunuch Kang never returned. Her hair had stopped falling out, and even new strands had grown along her hairline. The itching on her body had ceased. On the night of the incident, only Lady Li had been scolded alongside her. How could she not understand what had happened?

During the imperial selection, her mother had been so worried about her that she left behind two infants to accompany her by boat to the capital. Along the way, she had repeatedly warned her to be cautious, humble, and to change her temper from home.

Her mother had told her that to secure her father’s position as the Salt Transport Commissioner of Lianghuai, she ‘had’ to be selected. Her father had sent 30,000 taels of silver to the Inner Court Steward Suo Erhe. With Consort Hui’s support, her name would surely be circled. Gaining entry to the palace was not a concern; with this connection, Consort Hui would provide some degree of protection. But she couldn’t afford to become complacent. Only by establishing herself and earning favor could she hope to live a good life.

At the time, her mother assumed she’d be appointed as a ‘Noble Lady’ or ‘Constant Attendant’, and hoped she’d reside in Concubine Hui’s Yanxi Palace. That would certainly be better than ending up in the palace of a concubine with whom they had no ties.

But instead, she was sent to the Eastern Palace…

The Crown Prince was strikingly handsome, and the Eastern Palace was quiet, with far fewer people than the Emperor’s harem of thirty or forty concubines. It seemed like a much better prospect. When the edict came, she was overjoyed and quickly dismissed her mother’s warnings from her mind.

Standing before the grand, imposing palaces of the Forbidden City, her heart swelled with dreams of rising to the top.

The edict required her to learn court etiquette in Zhongcui Palace, after which she could no longer leave the palace. On the day of her departure, her mother wept uncontrollably. She couldn’t understand why her mother was so heartbroken. Now, she finally understood. The palace was a place that devoured people whole, leaving no trace of them behind. She had been too naïve.

Yang Gege gazed at her reflection in the mirror, tears streaming down her face.

What was she to do now?

A soft creak at the door interrupted her thoughts. Liu’er entered, carrying hot water, her face flushed from exertion. “Gege, the hot water has arrived.”

Yang Gege lowered her head with a bitter smile. Side Concubine Li had not openly withheld her necessities, but the palace staff were experts at catering to the powerful and stepping on the weak. Let alone extra gifts, even basic tasks like fetching hot water required Liu’er to go herself, plead, and offer bribes before the grumbling elderly eunuch in the tea room would reluctantly provide it.

Liu’er placed the wooden basin on the stand, wrung out a warm towel, and gently wiped Yang Gege’s face. “Don’t cry, Gege. Once the Crown Prince calms down, he will remember your virtues.”

Yang Gege shed more tears. “It’s kind of you to still serve me in times like these. I imagine many people in the courtyard have already left, haven’t they? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have to do this kind of hard work.”

The palace eunuchs had fled the fastest. They all had their connections, transferring to the imperial kitchens, the gardens, or even deliberately making mistakes to be sent back to the Inner Court offices.

“It’s no matter. I’ll report to Mama Ling later and have a few more people assigned to us,” Liu’er reassured her.

Yang Gege nodded and, under Liu’er’s care, lay down to sleep. But even with her eyes closed, her mind raced. Why had Side Concubine Li schemed against her? By all measures, Cheng Gege was the one who was more favored…

Unable to sleep, she sat up and painstakingly reviewed every event since entering the palace, piece by piece.

Soon, she caught a thread of the truth.

Soon, she grasped a critical thread amidst the chaos.

Ever since Side Concubine Li’s miscarriage, she had been taking medicine every few days, with imperial physicians visiting her regularly. From that point on, the Crown Prince had never spent the night in her chambers again. Yang Gege had initially thought this was due to Cheng Gege’s increasing favor, but… could it be that Side Concubine Li was no longer physically able to serve the Crown Prince?

This would explain why Side Concubine Li never seemed jealous of Cheng Gege’s favored position.

At last, Yang Gege caught the first strand of clarity from the tangled web of her thoughts. Her gaze grew colder but also sharper.

Side Concubine Li had acted with calculated intent, while she herself had been caught off guard and lacking ambition. That would not happen again.

She needed to remain patient. She couldn’t allow herself to be defeated so easily, to wither away like a dying flower in this tiny courtyard. She had to make herself visible to the Crown Prince once more.

The saying goes, “To correct one’s mistakes is a great virtue.” Yang Gege could no longer wait. She threw off the covers, got out of bed barefoot in her sleeping clothes, and called out urgently, “Liu’er! Liu’er—!”

Hearing the call, Liu’er rushed in, barely stopping to put on her shoes. Lighting a candle, she found Yang Gege brimming with newfound energy, as though she had suddenly come back to life.

“Bring me brush and ink! I must write a letter!”

Liu’er’s astonishment quickly gave way to pity. She lowered her eyes to conceal her emotions and replied, “Yes, Gege.”

But in her heart, she thought, ‘Yang Gege still hasn’t grasped the reality of her situation.’

—

The next morning, Yinreng woke up early, feeling refreshed, as if the heavy burden in his chest had finally dissipated. Stretching lazily, he felt utterly at ease.

Mi Mi, the cat, lay curled up with its front paws tucked under it on Cheng Wanyun’s rosewood chest. Upon hearing movement, it let out a soft “meow.”

“Shh,” Yinreng hushed the cat, moving quietly as he slipped out of bed. Glancing back, he saw the person beside him still soundly asleep, cocooned in the quilt. He pinched her cheek gently and then drew the bed curtains closed.

Outside, He Baozhong was already kneeling by the door, waiting. Yinreng didn’t summon him in but went to the outer room to wash up as usual.

The palace eunuchs had just sounded the watch; it was exactly the fifth hour of the morning. The servants in Cheng Gege’s courtyard had already begun their morning tasks. Hot water, fresh towels, and the robes he needed for his lessons had all been neatly prepared.

By the time he was dressed, the breakfast table had been set up, and the eunuchs were efficiently laying out the dishes.

Whenever Yinreng stayed in Cheng Gege’s quarters, he would always stay for breakfast before leaving. He never requested a separate meal; instead, he simply ate whatever Cheng Gege had ordered the day before.

Her choices were always varied, never repeating from day to day, and they often included dishes uncommon in the palace. She had a penchant for Southern cuisine, which occasionally suited his tastes and occasionally didn’t. But he always found her selections intriguing.

In the pitch-black of night, the kitchens of Qianqing Palace, the princes’ quarters, and the Yuqing Palace were the first to light up. The Emperor needed breakfast before court, and the princes had to prepare for their studies. Smoke rose from chimneys as these kitchens bustled with activity, their bright lights cutting through the darkness.

Zheng Taijian, having learned the day before that the Crown Prince would be staying, had prepared two special dishes in advance. Before the third watch, he had already kicked every eunuch under his command out of bed to stoke the fires, boil water, chop fillings, and knead dough.

Cheng Gege had ordered wonton soup and noodles with peanut sauce.

While scallion oil noodles were a common dish in the palace, peanut sauce wasn’t something the Yuqing Palace kitchen typically kept on hand. Zheng Taijian had stayed up all night making it himself. Sanbao, the eunuch tasked with mixing the sauce, stirred the peanut paste until his arms ached. If the ground peanut mixture wasn’t stirred thoroughly, it would solidify, ruining the texture and taste. Zheng Taijian supervised him closely, refusing to let up.

Just as Sanbao was about to break into tears from exhaustion, Zheng Taijian finally barked, “Done!”

Sanbao was so relieved he leapt up, shaking his sore arms in triumph.

Zheng Taijian scolded him for being so spineless but took a taste of the sauce. “Hmm, fragrant enough,” he muttered with satisfaction.

Cheng Gege had only requested two items, but when the food was delivered, the kitchen had sent over more than a dozen options—wontons with chicken, pork, beef, and three-flavor fillings; soup bases including clear broth, seaweed soup, chicken soup, and beef bone broth; noodles of various kinds, such as thick noodles, thin noodles, alkaline noodles, and knife-cut noodles. There were also an array of side dishes, pastries, and milk tea.

Yinreng asked, “What filling does Cheng Gege prefer in her wontons?”

Sanbao, having been summoned by Zheng Taijian to personally serve the Crown Prince, was so nervous his legs trembled as he stood. He stammered, “In response to Your Highness, Gege likes pork wontons in clear broth and prefers alkaline noodles for the dish.”

Yinreng tried the wontons Cheng Gege preferred. The flavor was excellent, and the noodles were seasoned perfectly, though they were slightly sticky. After that, he sampled a bowl of three-flavor wontons with chicken broth. Only then, under He Baozhong’s silently reproachful gaze, did he reluctantly put down his chopsticks.

After finishing breakfast, Yinreng felt slightly overstuffed and decided to walk to the study hall instead of taking the palanquin. He Baozhong followed closely behind, wondering what kind of culinary deity Cheng Gege must be. No matter what she ate, the Crown Prince always wanted to try it. Previously, if Yinreng ate more than three bites of a dish, the kitchen staff would be showered with praise by the Emperor himself.

It wasn’t that the kitchen lacked skill—it was simply that the Crown Prince had never been enthusiastic about food.

He’d been like this since he was a child. Otherwise, how could he have grown so stout?

In the study hall, the First Prince (Yinzhi) had arrived unusually early. A copy of ‘The Great Learning’ was propped up in front of him, but in reality, he was napping behind it, his face shielded by a set of Ha Ha beads.

Today’s ethics instructor, Xu Yuanmeng, was a jinshi scholar. He pretended not to notice the First Prince’s antics and instead engrossed himself in reciting ‘The Book of Songs’.

Yinreng hadn’t entered yet, but the commotion outside, as people greeted him, soon reached their ears. Yinzhi was jolted awake and lazily got up to greet his younger brother at the door. Remembering the loquats from the day before, he raised an eyebrow and said, “Thanks for the loquats, Second Brother. The younger ones said they were delicious too.”

“They were bestowed by Father,” Yinreng responded modestly as he gracefully took his seat. “If Big Brother enjoys them, I’ll be sure to send more your way next time.”

What’s this all about? Yinzhi was completely baffled. The discord between the two brothers wasn’t widely known among the civil and military officials, but in the inner court, it was an open secret. Yinreng sending a basket of loquats the day before had not only left Yinzhi puzzled but had also startled Consort Hui and even delighted Emperor Kangxi, who assumed his son was finally seeking reconciliation with his brothers.

If Yinreng knew what the people in the palace were thinking, he’d likely laugh in exasperation.

If Cheng Wanyun were asked for her opinion, she’d probably conclude that this wasn’t a signal of reconciliation between Yinreng and the First Prince. Instead, it was a sign that the Crown Prince, in a moment of youthful self-reflection, had decided to make peace with himself.

When Cheng Wanyun first heard Hongying’s “storytime,” she felt that the Crown Prince’s greatest pain over the years stemmed from the fact that no one genuinely believed the First Prince had been in the wrong. Apologies always seemed insincere, and worse, he was forced into the facade of brotherly harmony and submission.

He wasn’t understood, he was isolated, and the rumors following Jin Hu’s death were like knives that had left him riddled with wounds, wounds that never healed. He despised the First Prince, but he also despised himself.

Now, it seemed he was simply learning to let go—for his own sake.

Yinreng exchanged idle, amicable conversation with Yinzhi, appearing unusually harmonious. This was such an odd sight that when Yinzhong arrived slightly later, he almost rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was still dreaming.

Yinzhong had been awake for a while but had deliberately waited for his servant to report that the Crown Prince had arrived before leaving his quarters. Although he had long since mastered the ‘Four Books and Five Classics’, he never showed it, following the pace set by his tutor, studying one chapter a day. After hearing that the Crown Prince practiced calligraphy with 120 sheets daily, he limited himself to 110. Under Consort Rong’s guidance, Yinzhong was humble and low-profile, never stealing the Crown Prince’s limelight.

“Big Brother, Second Brother,” Yinzhong greeted, seating himself just below Yinzhi and taking out a book. He spoke softly, “I heard from my mother that Father summoned Alani, the Minister of the Court of Colonial Affairs, to the palace early this morning. He likely won’t have time to visit us today.”

It was well-known that Emperor Kangxi made time nearly every day to supervise his sons’ studies, but the fact that he had spent the night in Consort Rong’s palace lent credence to this rumor. Yinzhi was quietly delighted. “Really?”

Yinreng knew the reason. It was because Suoetu had delivered a memorial regarding Galdan. The Emperor was preparing to strengthen the management and oversight of the Khalkha tribes and unite other unassimilated tribes during the Treaty of Nerchinsk negotiations to contain Galdan’s influence.

At this point, the younger princes, from the Fourth to the Tenth, began arriving.

Yinzhen and Yinti sat together, while Yinqi and his younger brother Yintang chose seats beside each other. Yinyou, who walked with a slight limp, slowly made his way to Yinzhong’s side, addressing him as “Third Brother.” Yinzhong immediately gave up a seat for him.

The Seventh Prince’s mother, Lady Daigiya, resided in the Palace of Eternal Spring, living under Consort Rong’s shadow. Naturally timid, the Seventh Prince always sought support from his older brother Yinzhong.

Yine, looking utterly confused, was carried in by his servant. He was born to the Noble Concubine of the Niohuru clan, the younger sister of Empress Xiaozhaoren, and, like Yinreng and Yinzhi, was privileged enough to have his own independent residence due to his status and youth.

Yinzhi, seeing that everyone had arrived, turned around and gathered his brothers, pulling their chairs together. With his arms around them, he whispered, “Don’t say I don’t share good things. Since Father won’t be here today, how about Big Brother takes you all to the training grounds to watch the ‘buku’ competition?”

Yintang, who also loved watching ‘buku’ (a Mongolian wrestling sport), lit up with excitement. “Big Brother, why is there ‘buku’ today?”

“Would I lie to you?” Yinzhi grinned, clearly in high spirits. “Today’s the fifth day of the month. The ‘Shanpuying’ (Imperial Wrestling Camp) holds a competition on the fifth of every month. I heard that Nalan’s Kui Xu is skilled in both literature and martial arts. He even won last month’s championship. I plan to disguise myself as an inner palace guard and challenge him to see if he’s truly that impressive!”

Yintang, now even more excited, said, “Big Brother, you must take me with you.”

Even Yine, with his childish voice, chimed in, “I want to go too!”

“Let’s all go together. What do you think?” Yinzhi looked around enthusiastically, scanning his brothers’ faces.

But apart from the eager Yintang and the little Yine, the other brothers remained silent. Following their nervous glances, Yinzhi turned his head and realized that the Crown Prince was resting his chin on his hand, quietly watching him.

Caught up in his excitement, Yinzhi had completely forgotten that the Crown Prince was present. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Second Brother, it’s just a small matter. Don’t ruin the fun, alright? Father is busy with court affairs, so there’s no need to tell him.”

Having listened to the entire truancy plan and now being asked to cover for it, Yinreng remained silent for a moment: “…”

Yinzhi, fearing punishment from Kangxi, hesitantly suggested, “Even if Second Brother doesn’t say anything, Mr. Xu is still here. How about we finish reciting our books first before going?”

Xu Yuanmeng, who had been pretending not to hear: “…”

But Yinzhi was not the type to sit down and recite quietly. He stared at Xu Yuanmeng with a dark expression. Xu Yuanmeng, who had achieved the title of ‘jinshi’ in Kangxi’s twelfth year and served as a ‘diary official’ in Kangxi’s twenty-second year, was renowned for his lecturing skills. However, he was also clearly adept at reading the room. He glanced at the pensive Crown Prince, then at the eager Yinzhi, and after a moment of calculation, clutched his stomach and groaned, “Your Highnesses, I suddenly feel unwell. Please forgive me…”

“Since Mr. Xu isn’t feeling well, he should return home to rest for the day,” Yinzhi waved dismissively.

Everyone: “…”

“Let’s go,” Yinzhi said decisively, pulling Yinzhong and Yinzhen to their feet. He didn’t dare touch Yinreng but patted his chest confidently and said to his brothers, “If Father punishes us, I’ll take full responsibility.”

Yinzhong, seeing no way to escape, quickly tugged at the Crown Prince’s sleeve. “Second Brother, you should come with us. If Big Brother joins the competition, I won’t be able to handle these little rascals on my own.”

Though he said this, Yinzhong knew very well that if the Crown Prince joined in on any mischief, it was the safest option. While it would earn a scolding from Kangxi, any physical punishment would be significantly lighter.

Yinzhong understood Kangxi’s favoritism better than anyone. When they were younger, involving the Crown Prince in trouble was a guaranteed way to receive double the punishment. But now that they were older, Yinreng, as the designated heir and role model among the princes, was expected to “set an example” and had been granted the authority to discipline his brothers.

If the Crown Prince got involved in mischief, Kangxi’s heart would soften, and although the verbal scolding would be harsh, actual punishment would be minimal.

Yinreng: “…” Third Brother’s cunning calculations might as well be written all over his face.

Apart from Yinzhen, who looked displeased and wore a “don’t drag me into this” expression, and Yinqi, who was hiding behind Yinzhi pretending to be invisible, the younger ones—fifth, eighth, ninth, and tenth brothers—were visibly excited, their thoughts completely removed from studying. Seeing this, Yinreng had no choice but to relent.

Moreover… Yinreng glanced at Xu Yuanmeng, weighing his options. After some thought, he smiled helplessly. “Since my younger brothers all want to go, let’s go together.”

As soon as he agreed, the younger princes cheered and started talking about going back to change clothes.

Yinzhi slapped each of them on the back. “Are you stupid? If you go back, your mothers will find out. Let’s leave first, and your attendants can quietly bring riding and archery outfits for you!”

The “little rascals” quickly agreed that Big Brother made sense.

When it came to skipping lessons, Yinzhi was undoubtedly the expert. His personal attendants always carried an extra set of clothes, so there was no need to return and grab anything.

Of course, this level of expertise also meant their backsides were far more accustomed to punishment than most.

This matter was bound to be discovered by Kangxi. Yinreng originally planned to let his brothers have their fun, and then he would go alone to the Qianqing Palace to apologize and accept the punishment.

However, as fate would have it,

Just as they had scattered, a misfortune followed—Kangxi arrived.

And he brought with him Alani and the Korean envoy from the Joseon Dynasty, Li Shi.

Alani was summoned into the palace, and shortly after, news arrived that the Korean envoys had arrived. So, a sudden decree was issued. Kangxi had always looked down on this small country, which once attempted to assist the Zhu family in restoring the Ming Dynasty. During Kangxi’s efforts to pacify the Three Feudatories, the Joseon Dynasty had placed great hopes on Wu Sangui and the Zheng family, even attempting to cooperate with the remnants of the Ming forces to launch a joint attack on the Qing Dynasty. It wasn’t until the 22nd year of Kangxi’s reign that their delusional dream of a northern campaign was shattered.

Thus, Kangxi always thought that Joseon’s rulers lacked clarity of thought.

But since they had come to pay tribute, he begrudgingly received them.

The tribute from Joseon was a yearly affair, consisting mostly of Korean cotton, silk, furs, daggers, and seaweed. Kangxi didn’t even blink an eye as he accepted the gifts. As for tribute from neighboring states, he personally preferred those from Ryukyu and Siam. Ryukyu sent sulfur, red copper, and white tin in abundance, while Siam offered ivory, rhinoceros horn, agarwood, rubber, elephants, and peacocks—both useful and entertaining gifts.

Joseon, on the other hand, always had a meager offering… never mind.

He received the tribute expressionlessly, and when he heard that the envoy politely requested to visit the palace, Kangxi, eager to showcase the grandeur of his empire, decided to personally lead Alani and the Korean envoys on a tour. The imperial study wasn’t far, and Kangxi remembered that King Hyojong of Joseon seemed to have difficulty with his heirs, which sparked a bit of pride in him, as he was eager to show off his own sons.

Turning a corner, Alani introduced, “This is where the princes study. They wake up at the tiger hour to study the classics and practice horsemanship and archery, regardless of the season…”

Kangxi proudly walked with his broad stride, climbed the stairs, and pushed open the door to the study.

The wind blew through the empty hall, leaving three stunned faces.

…

“Little brats—”

“Where the hell have these little brats gone?!”

#

It was three or four days after Yinreng had been punished by Kangxi that Cheng Wanyun heard about it.

For the past few days, Yinreng hadn’t returned to the Yuqing Palace. Later, she heard that Yinreng and several of his brothers had been locked in the imperial study, copying books. They had been at it for three whole days and nights before finishing. Cheng Wanyun was shocked by this—had Master Kang really been that furious this time?

She found out about it because there were new people in Yuqing Palace.

This wasn’t a selection year for the Inner Palace, and the selection of the Eight Banner girls had only taken place six months ago. It was extremely rare to receive new people so soon. Moreover, this time, Kangxi had not only sent two more geges to Yuling Palace but had also sent new people to the courtyards of several older princes, including the First, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Princes.

The strangest thing was that, according to an inside source that Tianjin had managed to get through some connections, Yinreng and several other princes had been heavily punished by Kangxi because they had skipped their studies. Not only did the eunuchs who served them receive lashes, but Kangxi had also issued a decree to punish the four concubines—Concubine Hui, Concubine Yi, and two others—by halving their monthly allowance. However, two of the imperial concubines had persuaded him to reconsider.

In the end, for some reason, it had turned into sending new people to the princes.

Cheng Wanyun couldn’t understand the connection between skipping school and assigning geges to the princes.

She just couldn’t grasp the reasoning of the Emperor.

That day, when Kangxi furiously stormed to the training ground to catch his sons, Yinzhi had disguised himself as a guard and was wrestling with Kui Xu, unable to break free. Several of the younger princes had also disguised themselves and were cheering loudly from the sidelines.

Yinreng, the Third, and the Fourth Princes had even set up tables and chairs, sipping tea while watching the match.

This infuriated Kangxi to the point that he almost lost his temper.

Kangxi, who was embarrassed in front of the tributary states, seemed to have a simple solution in mind. He believed these unruly boys must have too much energy, so he decided to find another way to let them blow off some steam.

Another point is that the Eldest Prince, at seventeen, only had two daughters; the Crown Prince, at fifteen, didn’t even have a daughter yet. The Third, Fourth, and Fifth Princes were also reaching the age when they should start considering matters of marriage and family. In fact, the four imperial consorts, Hui, Yi, and the others, had already placed a few candidates under their watch. At this point, they were simply bringing them out early.

The Crown Prince didn’t have a mother planning for him. Previously, Empress Tongjia had been the one to handle such matters, but recently, her health had worsened, so when Xi Pin (Concubine with mid-level rank) came to the Qianqing Palace to pay her respects, Kangxi asked her to help choose someone.

Xi Pin selected two women from her personal maids—one named Wang and the other named Tang.

Kangxi personally met the women. They appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen years old, and their figures were already fully developed.

“They’re older than the Crown Prince,” Kangxi frowned.

Xi Pin personally offered him a bowl of rock candy lotus seed soup and quickly put his mind at ease with one sentence: “Your Majesty, a slightly older woman is more sensible and obedient. If she becomes pregnant, the child will be healthier.”

Kangxi nodded. The Crown Prince had only had four women in total, two of whom had been ill, so this was indeed… a thoughtful consideration by Xi Pin.

Once the decision was made, the atmosphere in Yuqing Palace became tense.

After the imperial decree arrived, Side Concubine Li immediately sent someone to tidy up the back palace’s guest rooms, and the appropriate eunuchs and palace maids were sent from the Imperial Household Department.

The main hall couldn’t be touched, and there weren’t many empty rooms in the back palace. Cheng Wanyun had expected that at least one of the new women would be assigned to stay with her in the rear chambers, but to her surprise, Side Concubine Li had squeezed both of the geges into the guest rooms, each with two rooms to live in. The courtyard and tea room were shared.

Mama Ling didn’t say anything.

This greatly relieved Cheng Wanyun.

It wasn’t long before the two geges arrived, right in the middle of the scorching heat at the end of June.

Hong Ying instructed the young eunuchs to pour the melted ice from the ice jar and told them to bring a new block of ice.

It was the afternoon. Hong Ying quietly lifted the bamboo curtain. The room was peaceful and silent, with the gauze canopy gently fluttering in the breeze. Bitao sat on a small stool, weaving a thread, while Qingxing held a palm-leaf fan, gently fanning Cheng Gege, who was lying on a cool couch, sound asleep.

As the weather heated up, the palace switched to wearing gauze clothes. Cheng Wanyun, enjoying the coolness, had chosen to wear a red and gold embroidered “mandarin duck” bodice for her afternoon nap, with a light-colored lilac gauze outer robe. When Hong Ying saw this, she furrowed her brows and softly scolded, “Why didn’t you cover Gege with a blanket? She’ll catch a cold like this!”

Qingxing lowered her head and didn’t dare to respond, while Bitao answered, “Auntie, Gege insisted on not covering herself.”

Hong Ying pointed at them with her finger, then went to get a silk cooling blanket, covering Cheng Wanyun’s chest and abdomen. She then spoke gently to the two girls, “Though you are servants, you should still have the heart to advise your mistress. You can’t just become parrots repeating what she says.”

“Now that two new Gege have arrived and are in favor, Gege may not say it, but she is swallowing her bitterness. We must serve her more attentively and be more considerate, so she doesn’t have more worries.”

“Yes, Auntie,” the two girls replied.

Cheng Wanyun had actually woken up when Hong Ying was covering her. After hearing these words, she finally understood why the people in her courtyard had been acting so cautiously and couldn’t hide their worries and unease lately.

Ever since Wang Gege and Tang Gege entered Yuqing Palace, the Crown Prince had been staying in their rooms for half a month. Both of them had gained equal favor. As for Yang Gege, it was needless to say, she was reportedly writing letters of repentance every day, but they were all intercepted by Mama Ling.

Side Concubine Li, still sick and taking medicine, was expected to celebrate the Empress Dowager’s birthday in August. The Crown Prince also visited her from time to time to prepare birthday gifts in advance.

The servants in Yuqing Palace said that Cheng Gege had bad luck; she had been favored for a while, but now she was sidelined.

In truth, Cheng Wanyun didn’t feel as desolate as Hong Ying and the others thought. Since the time she was born, she had been mentally prepared to accept the reality of a man having “three wives and four concubines.” She had never expected to experience love in this era. As long as her husband was upright and not wicked, she was fine with living together. Whether she served as a little concubine to Kangxi, a concubine to the Crown Prince, or married into a normal official family, it made no difference to her.

She was very clear-minded. When the Crown Prince had favored her, she enjoyed it, and now that there were others, she wasn’t sad. She would still close the door and live her life as she wished. The Crown Prince could be her friend, family, or superior, but perhaps not her lover… If she were to express these “rebellious” thoughts, it would likely frighten Hong Ying and the others, as this was an era where a woman’s world revolved around her husband.

They all believed that she should do something to win back the Crown Prince’s heart.

Hong Ying even offered some advice: “Gege, didn’t you already prepare your peach oolong tea? There’s also the newly dried osmanthus oolong and snow pear white tea. Why not invite the Crown Prince over to taste some tea?”

Cheng Wanyun wasn’t interested. The tea she had painstakingly made, she didn’t even have enough to drink herself.

Anyway, Side Concubine Li was never stingy when it came to distributing allowances; even Yang Gege’s allowance was always given in full. Cheng Wanyun wasn’t worried about not having enough to eat. Side Concubine Li seemed to have been an accountant in her past life. Cheng Wanyun once overheard a bit of gossip from Tianjin, who had mentioned that when Side Concubine Li was balancing the accounts, there were a few coins that didn’t quite match up. Side Concubine Li stayed up all night, called in the accountants and stewards, and managed to track down where the missing coins had come from before finally letting it go.

With food and drink, pet cats to cuddle, fish to care for, and turtles to walk, Cheng Wanyun wasn’t too concerned with competing for favor at the moment. Plus, the Crown Prince had been busier lately. After the skipping school incident, Kangxi had become much stricter with his sons. Even though Kangxi was too busy to supervise them, he still sent eunuchs to supervise. All the princes’ studies were now doubled.

As for the daily lecturer Xu Yuanmeng, Kangxi had restrained himself from getting angry at the time, as he had built a “pro-culture” image for himself. Recently, however, Kangxi took the opportunity to strip Xu Yuanmeng of all his official positions and kicked him to Shuntian Prefecture as a provincial examination official.

How did Cheng Wanyun know this? Because Xu Yuanmeng also held the position of “Crown Prince Zhongyun,” an official in the Eastern Palace who was in charge of daily administrative affairs for the Crown Prince. But this position was also revoked, and when the allowances for their small courtyard were distributed, the signature place on the ledger was changed to “E Chu.”

This person had originally been a trusted follower of the Crown Prince and had been promoted, replacing Xu Yuanmeng.

Xu Yuanmeng had been a close confidant of the Crown Prince, but without any mercy, he was dismissed. The Crown Prince himself was also punished and had to apply medicinal oil to his wrist for several days, nearly unable to lift it.

He was probably in a bad mood, and Cheng Wanyun was actually hoping that the Crown Prince wouldn’t come to see her at this moment.

“Don’t worry,” Cheng Wanyun suddenly spoke up, startling the three palace maids. Hong Ying quickly asked, “Gege, are you awake? Are you thirsty? Would you like some water?”

Cheng Wanyun sat up and drank a bowl of mung bean soup that had been chilled in the well. It was sweet and refreshing, and she let out a sigh of comfort. She patted Hong Ying’s hand and said, “Don’t worry, everything will work out. Haven’t you seen how Zheng Taijian and the others are still serving well? It’s all fine. If one day Sanbao stops coming to our place to visit, then you can call me to the garden to dance again.”

The three of them couldn’t help but laugh at her words.

This joke came from Tang Gege, because recently, Wang Gege had been serving the Crown Prince more often. She would dress up beautifully every day and dance gracefully among the flowers, and eventually, the Crown Prince caught sight of her. Tang Gege had a delicate and graceful figure, and her dance was indeed a delight to watch. It was an old routine, but it worked — the Crown Prince really did go to visit her that evening.

However, according to some gossip from Tian Jin, the Crown Prince would always visit the two new Gege’s rooms, but after finishing, he would leave immediately. He never stayed the night or dined with them.

This was subtly different from Zheng Taijian’s experience, because the Crown Prince would often ask for food from him, but never specify what dishes. He would only say, “Just make something.”

He Baozhong made suggestive gestures, but Zheng Taijian could easily understand.

So, he prepared dishes based on Cheng Gege’s tastes.

Thus, Zheng Taijian remained as diligent as ever, always bringing extra cooling snacks and tea for Cheng Wanyun. Other palace eunuchs who understood what was going on were cautious, while those who didn’t dared not act too hastily. They all adopted a more watchful attitude toward Cheng Wanyun.

Today, Zheng Taijian had brought a plate of “lotus leaf soup,” which consisted of small floral-shaped dumplings made with a silver mold and green beans, served with a sugar syrup made from boiled lotus leaves and chilled with ice — refreshing and perfect for the summer.

Cheng Wanyun rarely finished a whole bowl. Once summer came, she lost her appetite, so recently, she had been eating less. She would nibble on some snacks or fruit, but often skipped dinner. In just a few days, she had lost quite a bit of weight, and rumors began to spread that she had become so thin because she was heartbroken over losing the Crown Prince’s favor.

She didn’t even know how to explain it. Compared to Side Concubine Li, who always made her feel uneasy, and the sharp-tongued Yang Gege, she actually didn’t mind Wang and Tang Gege as much.

Wang Gege and Tang Gege looked different. Wang Gege was short with an oval face, while Tang Gege was taller with a round face. But their temperaments and personalities were almost identical.

Gentle, respectful, and good-tempered.

Cheng Wanyun had heard that they had entered the palace at thirteen after being selected in the Inner Palace’s annual selection, and they had been in the palace for six years. This was different from Side Concubine Li. Side Concubine Li had entered the palace and immediately became a side concubine. Wang and Tang Gege had started at the bottom, as lowly palace maids, and only gradually caught the eye of Xi Pin (Consort Xi), eventually being allowed to serve in her chambers.

But they weren’t those high-ranking, powerful palace women either. They were genuinely women who had worked their way up from the bottom.

Both Gege’s would go to Side Concubine Li’s place every day to talk, always with respectful attitudes, replying to whatever Side Concubine Li said, making sure she was happy to chat. Occasionally, when Cheng Wanyun would also visit Side Concubine Li, she would meet them. They would always greet her warmly, never using their age or favor as an excuse to show her disrespect.

Moreover, the day they arrived, they came bearing gifts and went straight to Cheng Wanyun’s courtyard to greet her. From the moment they entered, they took turns praising her courtyard, her rooms, her fish, tortoises, and cats, even commenting on how well the grapevines were growing. They promised to come back for a bunch of grapes once they bore fruit. They praised every single flower around the courtyard until there was nothing left to compliment, and only then did they bid farewell.

The gifts they gave were always the kind that couldn’t go wrong—embroidered handkerchiefs. Cheng Wanyun, in turn, gave them two sandalwood fans, and the next time she visited Side Concubine Li’s residence, she saw them holding the fans. They even shared how the fans smelled particularly fragrant and helped them sleep better at night.

Their compliments were always sincere and detailed, making one feel appreciated and at ease.

It was at that moment that Cheng Wanyun truly understood the kind of person who had spent years navigating the palace. They knew exactly how to get along with others and never took their favor for granted.

With two Gege’s like them, how could anyone dislike them?

Therefore, Cheng Wanyun could understand the Crown Prince. If she were in his position, with two beautiful and gentle women by his side, she would probably spoil them too.

However, something terrible happened shortly afterward that frightened Cheng Wanyun, making her too scared to think about why the two new Gege’s were favored.

Yang Gege had died!

This event, of course, was connected to the Crown Prince’s punishment…