Liang Jiugong swallowed the bitter taste in his throat and left the main hall with wounded pride, summoning Chunlai—who was barely suppressing her laughter to attend to the emperor.
Even Li Dequan couldn’t help but chuckle.
Though the punishment sounded severe, his adoptive father was, after all, the chief eunuch of the Qianqing Palace.
Unless the eunuch administering the beating had a death wish, those strikes-loud as thunder-wouldn’t so much as break the skin.
So the only real injury Liang Jiugong suffered was to his dignity.
He could already imagine the mocking whispers behind his back.
He wished he could slap himself, inwardly vowing never to meddle in the affairs of those two troublemakers again!
But he wasn’t the only one nursing wounds.
Fang He’s skin had grown unusually sensitive.
Even after applying ointment, the aftermath of their earlier activities followed by a bath left her skin bruised and discolored by evening as if she’d been slapped hard across the mouth.
The sight was startling.
Kangxi himself was taken aback.
Though he often lost his temper with this infuriating woman, he always held back, knowing her low pain tolerance.
Had he… accidentally gone too far this time?
He immediately wanted to summon the imperial physician, only for Fang He to pinch his waist in protest.
“Call them if you want, but I won’t see anyone! Go ahead and slap yourself while you’re at it!”
If word got out-oh, Consort Zhao got ‘beaten’ again-she’d be setting quite the precedent among the imperial consorts.
She knew it wasn’t serious, just her overly sensitive skin.
The bruises didn’t hurt unless touched, though they took ages to fade.
Reluctantly, Kangxi let her be that night.
Mainly because the little wretch had turned her back to him again.
If he pushed further, he or rather, Liang Jiugong-might end up with fresh injuries.
The next morning, as the court assembled for morning greetings at Cining Palace, Kangxi instructed Liang Jiugong to excuse Fang He’s absence, letting her sleep undisturbed while he dressed quietly for court.
When the consorts learned of this, whether friendly with Fang He or not, they were at a loss or rather, overcome with helpless frustration.
Imperial Noble Consort Niohuru sighed, hesitating before addressing Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang:
“Consort Zhao has held her rank for over half a year, yet she attends fewer greetings now than during her probationary period… Isn’t this improper?”
Pausing, she added helplessly, “I truly don’t mean to criticize, but rumors spread easily. Perhaps I should send a physician? At least there’d be a proper explanation.”
It couldn’t be that everyone else was fine while Fang He couldn’t even walk after attending the emperor!
Xiaozhuang agreed something seemed amiss.
There’d been no unusual commotion at Tousuo Hall yesterday.
While she tolerated Fang He’s occasional breaches of decorum, she couldn’t let laziness become fashionable in the palace.
Mindful of appearances, Xiaozhuang ordered Sumala:
“Go check. If she’s truly unable to rise, have my personal physician examine her. But if she can move at all, bring her to me!”
Sumala bowed and departed with two junior maids-posted outside Tousuo Hall to prevent anyone from running to Shoukang or Qianqing Palace for help.
She believed Fang He wasn’t someone without boundaries, but spoiling breeds arrogance… with Fang He’s lazy nature, it was entirely possible.
Yet the palace couldn’t indulge such behavior, so Sumala this time stood with the Empress Dowager.
As the chief matron of Cining Palace coming to visit Fang He, no matter how politely she spoke to Cui Wei, neither Cui Wei nor Chunlai dared to stop her.
Fang He hadn’t done physical labor that night and was actually already up, but didn’t dare make people talk outside.
Helpless, she could only hastily use a handkerchief as a veil over her face and invite Sumala in.
Sumala entered and carefully observed.
Seeing Fang He looking quite spirited except for the covered face, she roughly understood this must be another commotion.
She respectfully bowed and tentatively asked, “The Empress Dowager heard of Lady Zhao’s discomfort and was concerned, sending me to check. If you can still move, perhaps you could go to Cining Palace to see the imperial physician?”
Fang He sighed, knowing the higher-ups couldn’t tolerate her working in fits and starts—no CEO would tolerate a slacking employee.
She stood up, “No need for the physician. I’ll wait in the side hall at Cining Palace and request an audience with the Empress Dowager after the other consorts leave.”
“As for why I took leave, the Empress Dowager will understand at a glance.”
Sumala detected something subtle: could she have been beaten again?
No, Sumala shook her head inwardly.
The emperor she’d raised wasn’t one to resort to violence.
Returning to Cining Palace, Sumala remained composed before the assembled consorts, merely whispering a few words in Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang’s ear.
Xiaozhuang slightly raised her brows, thinking the same as Sumala, feeling another headache coming on.
Waving her hand, she said, “Enough, all dismissed. This old one is tired.”
Though Fang He wasn’t mentioned, after repeated warnings and with both emperor and empress dowager protecting her, no one made trouble, leaving full of unspoken questions.
The Empress Dowager remained seated until the hall was clear, then immediately asked Sumala, “What happened? Did that girl get beaten again?”
Sumala: “…”Â
What kind of image did the emperor have in their eyes?
When Fang He entered, she walked briskly and looked energetic-clearly neither exhausted nor ill.
Xiaozhuang and the Empress Dowager’s gazes fixed on her veil.
Fang He knelt obediently and promptly removed it.
“I beg the Empress Dowager’s forgiveness. This concubine… truly couldn’t show my face without damaging His Majesty’s reputation.”
Truthfully, neither Xiaozhuang nor the Empress Dowager really listened, their eyes locked on the clear palm print covering her mouth and cheek.
So distinct… and the horizontal angle as women of experience, they could even guess the position it was delivered from.
The Empress Dowager thought: What reputation does the emperor even have left?
Covering her mouth… surely not to avoid disturbing the palace maids at night?
But now wasn’t the time for teasing.
Some things really shouldn’t be translated by Wuyunzhu, so she suppressed her smile in silence.
Xiaozhuang was at a loss for words.
After a long pause, she rubbed her temples and said:
“You… have you seen the physician? Why haven’t you applied medicine?”
Secrets were hard to keep in the palace.
If this got out, Kangxi’s reputation would indeed be hard to preserve.
Fang He said awkwardly, “The imperial physician personally prescribed the ointment, and I applied it as instructed. But my skin is different from ordinary people’s even with the medicine, the marks take several days to fade.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say more.
Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang: “……”
She simply couldn’t understand why proper marital relations were so difficult for them.
Both Hailanzhu and Dong’e had received more imperial favor than Fang He, yet the commotion Fang He alone caused surpassed what those two could ever hope to match combined.
“Since you accidentally bumped your chin and can’t speak properly, you should rest well in the Tousuo Hall.”
Xiaozhuang barely managed to come up with a plausible excuse.
“I’ll have Physician Lu examine you. You may come out when you’ve fully recovered.”
Fang He had expected this.
The royal family usually emphasized rules, but when it came to saving face, those rules went right out the window.
Back in the Tousuo Hall, Fang He continued drawing her cross-diagrams while letting Chunlai and Cui Wei pack for the summer retreat.
The residence wasn’t large.
As Cui Wei and Chunlai directed Xinke and Liu An in the side chamber storeroom, they could still hear what was happening in the main hall.
Unable to contain her curiosity, Cui Wei asked Chunlai, “Didn’t you ask our mistress to change your name? She didn’t agree?”
Chunlai smiled faintly and replied:
“The mistress said a name should sound pleasant to one’s own ears. She asked if I wanted to revert to my original name. Since I still preferred Chunlai, she mentioned it to His Majesty.”
What made her willing to serve Fang He was precisely this kind of inadvertent respect.
Since she couldn’t change masters anyway, whether her name changed didn’t matter much.
Knowing she was a Chun-series palace maid who had served before the emperor, others regarded both her and their mistress more highly, making outside errands easier.
Cui Wei casually asked further, “Why not return to your original name? Don’t you miss home?”
After a brief silence, Chunlai whispered, “I was the eldest at home. My original name was Danü.”
Xinke exclaimed, “That’s similar to me! Before entering the palace, I was called Wunü.”
Cui Wei: “……”
She was her mother’s only daughter, quite cherished before her mother passed away, and had been called Baonü.
Their mistress’s current name…
There were quite a few “nü” names in their residence-if someone called out, most would turn their heads.
Clearly, their Tousuo Hall was just too small.
Seeing the junior maids were not interested in exchanging original names, Cui Wei quickly changed the subject.
“Speaking of which, summer’s almost here. Wouldn’t Yanxi Palace have been rebuilt by now?”
“If His Majesty dotes on our mistress, why hasn’t he mentioned a word about it?”
Chunlai actually knew something about this.
She whispered, “Actually, renovating Yanxi Palace wouldn’t take long, but the rear hall lacks underfloor heating. It’s less comfortable than the Tousuo Hall in cold weather.”
“When it warms up, His Majesty will order the main hall’s renovation…”
Cui Wei’s eyes suddenly brightened, and even Xinke and the others looked delighted.
No need to spell it out—if their mistress could conceive successfully, who would bother with the rear hall?
Moving would just be troublesome.
Cui Wei grinned broadly, “Fine, fine! Staying longer in the Tousuo Hall doesn’t matter. Our mistress isn’t one for pomp anyway!”
“Being closer to Her Majesty and the Empress Dowager makes it easier for our mistress to attend to them.”
This made Xinke and the others, who had been pulled along for appearances before, somewhat doubt whether their mistress was really not concerned with pomp?
After the Dragon Boat Festival palace banquet, on the day of departure from the palace, Fang He rode in a sedan chair with great fanfare, accompanied by four palace maids and four eunuchs, directly entering the imperial carriage from the Tousuo Hall.
Once inside the carriage, Cui Wei fell silent.
Those who knew understood her mistress was trying to conceal the faint remaining marks on her lips, but to outsiders, it might seem like the mistress had a limp.
Even inside the imperial carriage, Fang He kept complaining, “It’s all His Majesty’s fault! Now all the imperial consorts will surely see me as a thorn in their side again.”
” I wouldn’t be surprised if some censors even dash themselves against pillars to memorialize against me as a femme fatale!”
Emperor Kangxi had been staying frequently at the Tousuo Hall these days, coaxing her with no shortage of favors, well aware of Fang He’s talent for taking advantage of opportunities.
He calmly placed grapes before her, “Then how would you have me make amends?”
Fang He peeled a grape and leaned over the low table with a mischievous smile, pressing close to Kangxi.
“Your concubine wants a waterside palace and doesn’t wish to share quarters with others!”
“Hmm, anything else?” Kangxi continued reading an ancient scroll without looking up, swallowing the grape she offered and playfully nipping at her mischievous fingers with his tongue to signal her to continue.
Fang He’s eyes rolled playfully as she continued peeling grapes for Kangxi-after all, it was just his own saliva, so he wouldn’t mind.
“Your concubine heard we’re going to the Changchun Garden for summer retreat and feels quite uneasy. Originally, I suggested Noble Consort Xuan go to the Southern Park, thinking you’d bring her back to the palace with you, but now…”
She gently wiped the corner of Kangxi’s mouth with her handkerchief, lightly tapping it with her finger, her voice soft as a feather.
“How should we explain this to the Empress Dowager?”
Kangxi gave her a knowing look, “You only just learned about Changchun Garden?”
He didn’t believe for a moment this little troublemaker had such good intentions.
For months she’d been capable of “accidentally” slapping him when he failed to support her he’d long seen through her vindictive nature.
Though he didn’t know how she’d found out (he’d meant it as a surprise for the Empress Dowager and his mother, having told no one), he was certain Fang He had known all along.
Fang He leisurely wiped her hands and popped a grape into her own mouth, innocently touching the not-yet-faded marks on her face.
“If I could foresee the future, I shouldn’t have served you so well that day I should have quarreled with you again.”
Kangxi leaned over, stealing the grape from her mouth with his lips and giving her a gentle bite.
“I’ll speak to the Empress Dowager myself. If you keep making a fuss about those barely noticeable marks, next time I’ll carve ‘stirring trouble without reason’ on your forehead!”
Fang He collapsed laughing into Kangxi’s arms, comfortably lying across his lap to eat grapes.
“That sounds fine too! Use vermilion ink, then henceforth your concubine will be an officially sanctioned troublemaker!”
Kangxi: “……”
It was utterly pointless trying to shame her!
Outside, the accompanying palace attendants and eunuchs heard the Emperor’s low laughter and even more delighted feminine laughter from within the carriage, all secretly astonished.
They’d always known Noble Consort Zhao was favored, but never understood why.
It wasn’t that she was exceptionally beautiful-each palace lady had her own charms:
Consort Yi was the most radiant, while Consort De embodied gentleness.
Noble Consort Zhao wasn’t the most beautiful, just particularly delicate-looking.
But now they vaguely understood-this consort’s favor likely came from how relaxed she was before His Majesty, not treating him as her sovereign but coaxing him like an ordinary husband?
Having left the palace, the commotion in the imperial carriage couldn’t escape the notice of accompanying consorts.
Before reaching the Changchun Garden, the Noble Consort, along with Consorts Rong, Yi, and De, and even a few well-informed concubines, had already heard the news.
The Noble Consort, who had been managing palace affairs while caring for the increasingly mischievous Yin’e, was so exhausted that she barely slept or ate, visibly worn and thinner.
She merely rested her head in her hand, eyes closed, silently planning her arrangements after arriving at the Changchun Garden, showing no reaction whatsoever.
Consort Rong, continuously turning her prayer beads in hand, frowned slightly when she saw Yinzhi and her elder sister Ningchuge whispering together but said nothing.
The Imperial Noble Consort was recuperating in the palace, and Consort Hui remained at the Changchun Palace copying scriptures—neither had accompanied the imperial party for the summer retreat.
This lesson was enough to suppress all of Consort Rong’s ambitions.
With Ningchuge and Yinzhi by her side, the Emperor would at least grant her some dignity.
Any lingering resentment or bitterness had long been buried before the Buddha, never to be spoken of again.
The Fourth Princess, Irha, was in Consort Yi’s carriage.
Upon hearing the news, she instinctively glanced at her aunt.
Consort Yi wore a faint smile, as if merely amused by gossip.
After a moment of contemplation, Irha swallowed her silent resentment.
When Consort De heard the news, she was smiling warmly as she watched the Fifth Princess playing with the Seventh Princess.
After the eunuch finished whispering the report by the carriage curtain, her smile remained, but the warmth in her eyes vanished instantly.
She gently instructed her maid, Hedong, “I’ve heard there’s much water in the gardens, and the Seventh Princess is still young. I fear she might catch a chill.”
“Once we’re settled, have someone fetch thick fabric from the Imperial Household Department to make nightgowns for the Fifth and Seventh Princesses.”
Hedong smiled in agreement.
“This servant will ensure they prepare the finest materials.”
Neither mistress nor maid made any comment about the laughter and merriment from the Emperor’s entourage.
But several concubines, especially those like Consorts Duan and Xi, whose favor had waned, tore several handkerchiefs in frustration.
Only the constraints of travel and fear of eavesdropping kept them from voicing their curses aloud.
Lu Wuning had visited the Tousuo Hall and later obtained ointments from the Imperial Hospital to reduce swelling and bruising for Fang He-news that had already spread among the imperial consorts days ago.
What kind of ordeal would require such ointments?
At first, Consort Xi couldn’t fathom it.
But after gleaning from a sweeping eunuch outside the Cining Palace that Fang He had entered wearing a veil, everyone’s thoughts aligned with Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang’s.
She must have broken some rule and been slapped by His Majesty!
Tch.
A concubine.
Surely, His Majesty didn’t bite her, did he?