Upon entering, Kangxi froze at the doorway, staring steadily at the plum spirit lounging with legs crossed, reading a script behind the curtain…
The semi-transparent black gauze robe wrapped her graceful limbs, faintly outlining ripe curves that made his adam’s apple bob involuntarily, eager to pluck and consume.
Fang He heard the noise, lifted her head, revealing the pale jade wine vessel she held, resembling a tender green leaf holding the plum—yet making it impossible to look away from her.
“You… have you been drinking?” Kangxi’s voice was dry and hoarse as soon as he spoke.
Fang He smiled, tossed the script aside, sat up, and beckoned him with a finger.
“Your Majesty hasn’t arrived yet. How dare I drink alone? I’m waiting for you.”
She shifted her posture, deepening the intensity in Kangxi’s eyes.
What was once only faintly visible now fully reflected in his pupils—wrapped tightly in bright soft silk, the dim lamp lit a fiery red that dazzled like flames, staining Kangxi’s unusually sharp cinnabar phoenix eyes.
Standing by the bed, he enveloped the plum spirit with a noble, gentle yet resolute silhouette, his hand lightly brushing the creeping tendrils behind the curtain, both startled and delighted, his heartbeat already out of rhythm.
“With your drinking capacity…” Kangxi’s hoarse voice carried a smile as he lightly kissed her lips.
“Are you planning to invite me into your dreams to taste the plum?”
Fang He gently pushed him, told him to stand straight, then raised the wine vessel, slowly pouring as the candlelight flickered, sweet intoxication filling the entire plum tree.
Under Kangxi’s almost predatory gaze, she blinked innocently.
“My meaning is, wait for you to drink… hmm!”
Kangxi cut her off like the sharpest hunter descending the mountain.
Silver and red curtains hid all the excitement.
There were enough surprises already.
He craved that pot of fine wine, fragrant with sweet plum scent—surely tribute from Jiangnan, too precious to waste.
“Rip, rip—” The sound of tearing accompanied Fang He’s murmured complaints as the nightwear she’d just worn less than an hour ago was irreparably ruined.
Kangxi didn’t give her a chance to speak; Fang He had no intention either—their mouths were busy and words superfluous.
One was busy savoring the last drop from the jade wine vessel; the other, busy planting more seeds this early summer, awaiting a storm to bring life and sprout new branches.
The battle between spirit and earthly emperor was no trivial affair.
The extremes of fire and ice exploded repeatedly behind the curtains.
The emperor fought valiantly, making the spirit unwilling to yield.
The scent of wine like water flooded Mount Minghuang, making the fight even more thrilling.
The battle raged on until dawn, ending with the spirit completely subdued.
Tears and sweat from the plum spirit mingled in her black hair, clinging near her vermilion lips, making her whimpers more satisfying to the emperor who finally embraced the devoured plum and fell into a deep sleep.
For several days, the palace lanterns in Yanxi Palace never extinguished.
The surprises Zhaoyuan Noble Consort had planned for later were all pulled out, with even a few pieces sent from Qianqing Palace.
It was as if heaven and earth both knew of this joyous event—nine heavenly phoenixes, flower fairies, spirits, and little demons came and went, all cherished treasures of the emperor, lingering night after night.
By month’s end, Zhaoyuan Noble Consort could no longer endure.
Fang He woke again in the afternoon, hastily escaping the enthusiastic Kangxi’s attempts to send more ‘plays’ her way, and hurried to Shoukang Palace.
No longer could she stay in Yanxi Palace.
No matter how skilled she was, she feared death and destruction; a truce was necessary.
Entering Shoukang Palace, Fang He called out tenderly, “Empress Dowager, did Jiujiu miss me? Did you miss me?”
The Empress Dowager smiled meaningfully, recalling Fang He’s recent favored status.
“You still remember that Shoukang Palace houses both me and Jiujiu?”
The last time during the fifth-day greetings, the entire palace awaited the Noble Consort’s appearance, but only Li Dequan arrived to offer excuses on behalf of the newly appointed Zhaoyuan Noble Consort.
He said she was unwell but did not summon any imperial or chief physicians—any fool would know what kind of ‘unwell’ it was.
All the consorts’ unwilling and resentful hearts turned to silent bitterness.
They bit their lips and nursed their jealousy for days, only to find she no longer cared.
This made them look even more like a joke.
“You say that, but don’t I come by every afternoon?” Fang He grinned at the Empress Dowager.
If she dared disappear for many days, Jiujiu’s temper would likely topple Yanxi Palace.
But she also knew what the Empress Dowager meant and laughed, “I was just afraid of bringing bad luck to the sisters. The Dragon Boat Festival is near, and the weather is hot—the time when the five poisons are strongest. If any of you fell ill, you would need your heart cared for.”
Empress Dowager: “…………”
‘You might as well admit you were afraid of angering the sick.’
“The Emperor said he would go to Changchun Garden in a few days; Yanxi Palace was bustling with preparations. I’m spending these days with you in Shoukang Palace.”
Fang He added, “Is that not good?”
Empress Dowager: “Did you quarrel with the Emperor again?”
“Not exactly.” Fang He rubbed her waist with a resigned expression, sitting lower than the Empress Dowager and looking at her thoughtfully.
“But if I have to serve a few more days, I reckon there’ll be trouble.”
After all, eating too much makes the mind fuzzy; one might suddenly act out in insubordination—who knew?
The Empress Dowager examined Fang He’s flushed complexion and sparkling eyes and understood.
No need to say more, Aisin Gioro men were greedy in that respect, or else she wouldn’t have been so afraid of serving Fulin back then.
When Dong’e entered the palace, she wasn’t so weak, and so was Hailanzhu, as the aunt said.
“I’ll have the attending imperial physician Zheng come by shortly and prepare some nourishing prescriptions for this girl,” she said, smiling and having Wulinzhu translate.
Fule had already prepared medicine for Fang He, but Fang He didn’t stop the Empress Dowager from showing kindness, only glanced around cautiously.
“Where’s Jiujiu? A few days ago, she was so lively, waddling over with her awkward little duck steps, squeaking as she ran.”
The Empress Dowager chuckled, “She’s in the flower room today. Coincidentally, Consort Yi is there too. Yintang brought Yin’e and Yinxiang as well.”
They found it too noisy and returned to rest.
The Empress Dowager didn’t insist Fang He stay, as that would be improper.
“You go see for yourself. Stay for lunch afterwards.”
Fang He was a bit puzzled, ‘Hadn’t Yintang, Yin’e, and Yintang all started attending the study this year?’
‘Could they have… skipped school?’
Once Qing dynasty princes began schooling, their lives were extremely harsh.
Only the Thousand Autumn Festival, Longevity Festival, and New Year gave them a few days off; otherwise, regardless of wind or snow, there was no break.
They rose earlier than the roosters and slept later than the dogs.
Too cruel—but she couldn’t control others’ children.
For now, she had no sons.
If Jiujiu had a brother in the future, she would definitely change this rule.
With a spectator’s curiosity, Fang He happily followed Xinhua toward the back.
Just as they reached the door, they heard the eight-year-old Yintang laughing wickedly inside.
“Little Jiujiu, if you’d sided with Ninth Brother, you wouldn’t have fallen! But you insisted on following Tenth Brother, tsk tsk. Here’s another chance—want to stop following me?”
Fang He thought: ‘This was more impressive than kicking a kindergartner!’
“…” Was Ninth Brother really bored enough to play war games with a barely one-year-old child?
She wasn’t worried.
Consort Yi and Jiujiu’s attendants wouldn’t allow Jiujiu to be bullied.
Fang He gestured ‘shh’ to the palace maid at the door and peeked inside.
All the flowers had been moved to a corner, with thick carpets spread in the center for the children to play.
Two eight-year-olds and four-year-old Yinxiang surrounded Jiujiu, who sat on the floor laughing.
Speaking of Yinxiang, Fang He thought of the Zhangjia clan.
This noble consort, protected by Uya-shi when she gave birth, had vanished from the scene after Uya-shi left the palace.
Her children, Yinxiang and the Eighth Princess, were like invisible people, living quietly in Xianfu Palace, cared for by Noble Lady Xuan.
Since returning from the temporary palace, Noble Lady Xuan had cried at the Grand Empress Dowager’s memorial and never left Xianfu Palace.
Now, she was as capable and robust as ever.
Fang He clearly understood that Noble Lady Xuan’s resentment was likely softened by the children.
She was glad about that.
Even out of respect for the Empress Dowager, she was unwilling to deal harshly with Noble Lady Xuan; it was best if she could come to terms herself.
Inside, Jiujiu was holding Yintang’s finger, her tender white hand pressing on her forehead, apparently toppled by him.
She showed no sign of grievance, blinking big eyes at Yintang and babbling unclearly toward Consort Yi.
“Ninth brother, bad, cool, pa pa!”
Consort Yi laughed, holding her belly, “But you’re playing war. Cool can’t get involved. After you finish fighting, Cool can hit you, okay?”
Jiujiu paused, understanding Consort Yi’s meaning, then turned to look at Yintang.
Yintang grinned, showing small white teeth. “General Jiujiu, do you admit defeat? Admit defeat and you can hit me!”
Fang He thought: ‘How strange—winning only to be hit?’
She was still puzzled when Jiujiu suddenly moved.
She quickly flipped over, wiggled her bottom, and crawled to Yintang, clutching his leg and pouting coquettishly.
“Gogogogo, no hitting, it hurts, Jiujiu cries, Gogogogo, so fierce!”
Yintang rubbed his nose proudly.
“That’s…”
Before he finished gloating, Jiujiu bit his leg.
“Bite bite!”
Yintang’s leg.
It was getting hot; clothes were thin.
Even though Jiujiu’s baby teeth weren’t all in, her bite was already strong and painful.
Anyone else would have kicked her away.
But facing a plump kid holding on tight, he dared not forcefully shake off her grip, or else his mother would eat him alive!
“Thirteen, save Ninth Brother! Ninth Brother! Oof—so heavy, save me!” Yinxiang cried out.
Yin’e held down Yinxiang, resting his arm and head on Yinxiang’s behind.
Seeing Yintang look over, Yin’e tapped his chin proudly on Yinxiang’s bottom.
“How about it? Admit defeat or else Thirteen will be crushed!”
Yintang: “…”
‘In this position, if anyone gets crushed, it’s your smell. What’s there to be proud of?’
Consort Yi ignored her son’s pained cries, watching the chubby one bouncing up and down on Yintang’s leg, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
Yintang felt his skin might break.
He crouched, breathing heavily, trying to tickle Jiujiu’s armpits, gasping and groaning.
“Jiujiu, watch out!”
Jiujiu hated being tickled.
Hearing his breath, she laughed, loosened her grip, and rolled aside.
Fang He worried Jiujiu might laugh herself sick and stifled a laugh as she entered.
Jiujiu, eyes sparkling, looked at Fang He and suddenly lay down again.
Her chubby face pressed against the mat, she stretched out her hand, looking at Fang He, babbling but saying nothing.
“Bad Ninth Brother, hit Jiujiu, boo hoo~ so mean~~”
Yintang was angry, pulling up his pant leg and pointing at his bitten leg, snickering.
“Jiujiu, look at Ninth Brother’s leg. Who’s bad now?”
Jiujiu refused to look and covered her mouth, crying harder.
“Bad… make a decision~ mouth hurts, boo hoo~”
Yintang: “~”
“…” Maybe the young lord’s legs were just too hard?
Consort Yi laughed so hard she nearly fell off her stool.
She looked at Fang He and said, “No wonder it’s your daughter—hahaha, suit yourself!”
She still remembered how Consort Xi had been slapped by Fang He, hard enough to knock her down from eight zhang away.
Fang He thought, ‘if my daughter didn’t follow me who else will?
She picked up Jiujiu, checked Yintang’s leg for broken skin, and sighed in relief when there was none.
She touched Jiujiu’s forehead.
“What did Mommy teach you?”
“When in a disadvantageous situation, protect yourself first. Wait until the big leg comes to be powerful, don’t harm yourself trying to kill the enemy. Understand?”
Of course, Jiujiu didn’t understand.
She was not even two years old.
But she sensed Mommy’s displeasure and immediately patted Fang He’s cheek, flashing baby teeth in a smile and hugging her neck.
“Jiujiu’s fierce, ooh~ tiger~ eat Gogogogo~”
“Gogogogo’s dumb, eat fart, haha~”
Yintang quickly jumped back, revealing Yin’e.
“Not me, it’s Yin’e eating farts. You’re really my good brother.”
Yin’e: “…”
Yinxiang: “…”
Does anyone care about the little lord nearly crushed by farts?
After some laughter, Fang He had the children wash up and sat beside Consort Yi, rolling her eyes at her.
“You, as a mother, take the kids skipping school, and watch them fight? Do you like trouble as much as they do?”
“Your noble lady is busy. Unlike me, waiting and waiting but can’t see the Noble Consort. Idle time is idle.”
Consort Yi shrugged and looked Fang He up and down sourly.
“Just happened to catch the Emperor scolding my son. I’m playing with His Majesty’s son to regain some face.”
“Beat them all you want. Otherwise, the Emperor will have to step in later, so better to avoid the bustle in the study.”
Yin’e, just arriving at the door, said nothing.
Consort Yi looked at them fondly, happily rounding up the escaped little thirteen for palace adventure.
Wasn’t she saying something different then?
Yintang turned his head faintly.
The sons of the Emperor and the noble lady were all his, after all.
This truly was a doting mother!
Fang He caught Consort Yi’s meaning and, after the children left, hurriedly pulled sunflower seeds from her pouch and handed them over, eyes twinkling.
“Come on, tell me. What happened? A fight? Who was it? Was it serious?”
She spent her days eating and sleeping like a pig, and hadn’t heard fresh gossip in ages.
Consort Yi: “……”
‘Already a Noble Consort, and you still love stirring up trouble? Is that appropriate?’