Looking at his father’s waxen, sleeping face, Yinreng’s eyes reddened as he grit his teeth and stepped forward, startled only when Fang He’s sharp questioning voice rang out.
“What happened?” Fang He was nearly beside herself with anger.
“I prepared so much medicine and nourishing remedies for His Majesty before the journey—how have you all been caring for him?”
Lu Wuning and Zhang Ziqin knelt before Fang He, ashen-faced.
Lu Wuning rasped, “Reporting to Imperial Noble Consort Zhen, the weather’s been unseasonably warm this year, and we’re not even on the steppe yet. The air is still hot and the mosquitoes especially numerous. His Majesty was bitten and contracted malaria.”
Fang He’s heart jolted.
Concubine Jing had predicted this.
She’d said there were many mosquitoes on the steppe in autumn and warned that some soldiers might contract malaria, which is contagious and not to be underestimated.
She’d mentioned that the foreigners had a powder called quinine that could treat the disease.
Earlier, White Jin had brought some, and Fang He had made sure it was packed in Kangxi’s medicine chest.
She immediately demanded, “Where’s the quinine? Didn’t the foreign minister say it was effective against malaria? Why wasn’t it used for His Majesty?”
Zhang Ziqin, hoarse from days of watching over the emperor, replied, “His Majesty’s fever has not abated and his body is very weak. If the dosage of quinine is wrong, it can cause diarrhea, vomiting, and even blindness, or worse… We’ve been testing the medicine on others first and dare not risk giving it to His Majesty at random.”
Fang He forced down her temper.
That, at least, she hadn’t known.
No one dared give a medicine with side effects to the emperor, especially when he was so frail.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she asked, “How many days until you have results?”
Lu Wuning: “Three more days, more or less.”
Fang He paused, then asked, “And how long can His Majesty hold out?”
Lu Wuning choked, kowtowing.
“If His Majesty can take nourishment, he’ll recover. If not… we can only try using ginseng under the tongue as a last resort.”
No one dared say when the emperor’s end might come.
Such talk, regardless of whether His Majesty recovered or not, would be used against them by those with ulterior motives.
Their positions—and even their heads—wouldn’t be safe.
Fang He sat at the side of the dragon bed, holding Kangxi’s thin, knotted hand in silence.
She knew Kangxi could not wait for slow medicinal trials.
Unless someone of high enough rank dared to try the medicine themselves, proving it safe, only then could the prescription be used urgently for His Majesty.
Was this why Kangxi called her here?
Fang He looked complexly at the sleeping Kangxi.
Was he testing the Crown Prince, or was he testing her as well?
These thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant; she knew she had no other choice.
Whether for her children or for herself, she had to go through with it.
“…”
Yinreng, who had been silent since entering the tent, suddenly interrupted, “Let me try the medicine!”
Fang He jerked her head up at him in shock, but understanding dawned in her heart.
Was this bastard risking himself to arouse fatherly affection and use his life-saving deed to secure his honor?
“Your Highness must not!” Zhang Ziqin pleaded, “You are the Crown Prince. How could you risk such danger?”
“If anything happens, no punishment would suffice for us.”
Fang He secretly rolled her eyes and stood up and said, “Then I’ll do it. We can’t wait any longer.”
Zhang Ziqin’s face wrinkled even more.
He and Lu Wuning pressed their heads to the ground.
Lu Wuning said, “Imperial Noble Consort Zhen must not. His Majesty ordered us to wait until he wakes.”
Fang He was helpless.
Of all the medicines she brought, she had no quinine, and Fule had already gone to Shoukang Palace.
She couldn’t even take the risk herself.
She considered, “Crown Prince, why not go wash up and rest before attending His Majesty’s illness?”
Then she instructed, “Have people boil more hot water, scatter lime outside for disinfection, and bring strong liquor and vinegar. I need them.”
Yinreng was attended by Li Dequan to wash up in his assigned tent.
Once the items Fang He requested were delivered, she immediately set about boiling the liquor and vinegar on a mud stove, using a large iron lid to distill high-concentration alcohol by the simplest means.
She let the vinegar vaporize inside the tent, and had Jinghao help carry water as she scrubbed the dust off herself.
When she’d finished, not bothering with her hair, she simply braided it and got to work wiping down Kangxi’s body with the distilled alcohol.
After the second wipe-down, the fumes of alcohol and vinegar woke Kangxi from his stupor.
Opening his eyes in the dim candlelight, he saw Fang He and, for a moment, thought he was dreaming of the little palace maid who had once served him.
Back when they traveled incognito, Fang He would always wear her hair in a thick, dark braid just like this.
Even at thirty-one, her skin was well cared-for and as smooth as mutton-fat jade; at first glance, she looked like a girl barely in her twenties.
Kangxi quickly recovered and smiled.
That little maid of the past would never have served him so fiercely, teeth clenched.
Even if he wanted to close his eyes and delay, Kangxi couldn’t help but reach out and brush the sweat from Fang He’s brow.
“Guoguo, I missed you.”
Fang He jumped at the sound of Kangxi’s hoarse voice.
Looking up at the bloodshot eyes, she grit her teeth even harder.
She flung the towel onto Kangxi’s chest and said, “Your Majesty Xuanye, you’ve really grown bold, haven’t you? Now you dare risk your own health. Next, will you gamble with my life and the children’s? If you can’t explain yourself, I’m done with you!”
Outside, Liang Jiugong cringed at Fang He’s tongue-lashing and hurriedly had Li Dequan chase the others further away.
He wasn’t afraid of people reporting the Imperial Noble Consort for impropriety, but simply wanted to preserve a little dignity for his master—not that much remained.
As expected, Kangxi simply acted as if he hadn’t heard, smiling gently as he drew Fang He’s hand to him.
“It’s my fault for scaring you. I like when you call me by my name…”
Fang He was so angry she nearly threw the towel over his face, turning to leave the bed.
“Don’t talk nonsense! If you like hearing your own name, call someone else—ow!”
Kangxi mustered his strength and pulled Fang He firmly into his arms.
“Alright, you dare lay hands on me?”
Fang He covered her bumped head and raised her hand to smack him.
“I’m not serving you anymore. If you die, I’ll just accompany you in the afterlife a hundred and eighty years from now!”
Kangxi: “….”
‘You may as well wish me dead on the spot.’
Despite Fang He’s tough words, she dared not actually hit hard, lest she send him straight to his ancestors; her half-hearted swat only made Kangxi laugh.
He panted for breath and weakly patted Fang He’s shoulder by saying, “Guoguo, be good. Listen to me—I truly didn’t do it on purpose.”
Fang He snorted quietly, “You arranged for me to be brought here, and Liang Jiugong’s timing was just right. Gu Wenxing said the Crown Prince has the city locked down, and you still claim this wasn’t deliberate?”
Kangxi’s gaze darkened a little, but his voice remained gentle as he confessed.
“My plan was to summon you in two days under pretense, to see if Yinreng would come to his senses. But plans can’t keep up with changes—this malaria struck so suddenly. I never expected it.”
Fang He glared at him and said, “I told you about the medicines when I was packing them. Why didn’t you hand them over to Lu Yuanpan and the others right away?”
Kangxi’s eyes flickered, but he avoided the question, only hugging her gently.
“Don’t worry. Now that you’re here, I feel much better. There’s still time.”
Fang He didn’t want to let him off so easily—how could he risk his health like this?
This wretch was her very ticket to a good life!
How could he risk ruining her future?
But Kangxi didn’t give her another chance to ask, only patting her gently.
“You’ve been on the road for so long—you must be exhausted. Rest for a while. When you wake, I promise you an explanation.”
Fang He looked up at him.
Seeing his insistence, she covered her mouth and yawned, saying nothing more.
They had traveled without pause, barely sleeping for a day and two nights; she was at her limit.
Under Kangxi’s rhythmic patting, she soon fell asleep in his arms.
Outside, Li Dequan whispered, “Your Majesty, the Crown Prince requests an audience.”
Kangxi gently shifted Fang He inward, gestured for Liang Jiugong to lower half the bed-curtain, and spoke softly, “Let him in.”
Yinreng entered and looked straight at Kangxi, half-reclining on the pillow.
To see his always brilliant and invincible father now lying so thin and weak, he felt unspeakably distressed.
He quietly knelt and said softly, “Imperial Father, let me try the medicine.”
Kangxi replied blandly, “You are the future emperor of the Great Qing. I am in grave danger; you cannot take risks. I called you here just in case—there are things I must instruct you. Go summon Chen Tingjing, Zhang Yushu, and Mingzhu.”
Yinreng kept his head bowed, voice choked with emotion, yet insistent.
“Imperial Father, please allow me to try the medicine.”
A trace of feeling passed across Kangxi’s face.
He sighed and signaled for Liang Jiugong to help the Crown Prince up.
“Baocheng, you have the heart; I am pleased. This realm will be yours in the end. A gentleman does not stand under a precarious wall—you must not act rashly.”
Yinreng clenched his hands silently.
Imperial Father was always unfathomable.
Was he referring to what he’d done in the capital, or here and now?
It didn’t matter.
What mattered was, regardless of whether he ascended the throne now or later, he would be the most dutiful son before all officials and in the annals of history.
Eyes red, he lifted his gaze, pleading, “Imperial Father, you taught me many principles, but not how to harden my heart. After nearly twenty years of boundless fatherly love, how could I remain unmoved?”
“Please, let me try the medicine. Otherwise, I’ll kneel here and not rise!”
Kangxi and Yinreng locked eyes, each seeing stubbornness reflected back.
But in the end, fathers always lost to sons—such was the way through the ages.
Kangxi sighed, “Even if it harms your health?”
Yinreng answered without hesitation, “Even if I die, I will not regret it!”
“Good…” Kangxi nodded with heartfelt relief, his eyes moist with tears.
He lowered his voice and instructed Liang Jiugong: “Tell Zhang Ziqin to have the Crown Prince try the medicine and serve him well. If anything happens to the Crown Prince, I want his whole family’s heads!”
Satisfied, Yinreng got up and respectfully withdrew.
Liang Jiugong stood at the door.
As he let the curtain fall, even though it was deep into the night, he could see clearly that father and son, separated by a curtain, wore the same indifferent expression.
He shuddered involuntarily, glanced up at the night sky, and found it oddly hard to breathe.
‘Was it about to rain?’
Yinreng entered his tent and waited a while before his attendants arrived.
Qi Sanfu carried a red lacquered tray holding a small enameled porcelain box.
Inside was pure white powder.
Yinreng took the medicine, dissolved it in warm water, and swallowed it, tasting the bitterness at the back of his throat.
He suddenly smiled at the two men before him and said, “This medicine… I think it’s useless, Doctor Zhang, don’t you?”
Zhang Ziqin’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at Qi Sanfu.
Qi Sanfu only lowered his head, hunching over, acting as if he heard nothing.
As Zhang Ziqin’s thoughts whirled, his gaze fell on a ledger on the table—one recording his own son’s bribery and embezzlement.
He closed his eyes in bitterness for a long moment, then hunched his back.
“The Crown Prince is… correct.” Zhang Ziqin heard his own hoarse voice.
He drew a narrow-necked, wide-bellied pink porcelain bottle from his sleeve.
Had Fang He been present, she would have recognized it as a candy bottle made by the Zaoban Office at her request for Yanxi Palace—the same kind she used for Kangxi’s medicine chest.
The bottle was made for Jiujiu and Er Bao, holding only three candies, for the siblings to divide as they pleased.
Whether they squabbled over it or not, it both encouraged sibling bonds and let one eat less sugar.
Using it to hold medicine was a little trick of Fang He’s, so Kangxi would always be reminded of the children.
Zhang Ziqin opened the cute bottle, poured the powder into the brazier, then took out another medicine packet and swapped in new powder.
When he finished, his eyes were vacant as he said with difficulty, “This medicine is harmless for the Crown Prince, but ineffective for His Majesty’s illness… As the imperial physician, unable to save Master Lord, I am culpable. If His Majesty passes, I will follow him in death.”
Yinreng smiled in satisfaction.
The Imperial Father was wrong about one thing—he was never rash.
That was always the most suitable path for him.