The thirty-third year of Kangxi, autumn.
Not long after Fang He’s triplets had celebrated their hundredth day, news arrived from the north: the Eastern Army led by Fuquan, and the Central Army led by Feiyan Gu, had achieved a great victory over the Jungar at the Kurlun River.
When the express military report arrived at the palace, Gualdan had already retreated to Telerji near Moxi, with only a little more than ten thousand men left.
The Western Army under Changning, along with part of the Central Army headed by Tong Guogang and Sun Sining, swiftly moved to the forests of Zhao Modo, thirty li outside Telerji, intending to lure Gualdan into an ambush and wipe him out in one fell swoop.
Kangxi was so delighted that he couldn’t stop praising them, even on the imperial court his smile was entirely unconcealed.
“This time, the army did not disappoint me! My Great Qing truly does have elite troops and valiant generals!”
“When the Imperial Noble Consort gave birth earlier, I already foresaw a great victory this time. I’ve been waiting for Prince Gong and Duke Tong to bring back good news!”
The civil and military officials below looked numb, not because they weren’t happy about the defeat of Jungar, but simply…they’d run out of ways to flatter him.
Ever since Imperial Consort Zhen had given birth to the unprecedented royal triplets of the Qing dynasty, and there had even been a miraculous blossom sighted in Yanxi Palace, Kangxi had immediately spread word of it.
From the initial Peony Princess, to the later Auspicious Triplets, to now “Heaven Blesses Great Qing”—even the most literary scholars of the Hanlin Academy could praise no more.
The Emperor almost praised the Imperial Noble Consort and the triplets every other day at court—who could bear that?
But could they refuse to give the Emperor face?
Minister of Rites, Xiong Cilu, racked his brain and finally managed to dryly praise, “To have an auspicious true phoenix like the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen is truly a blessing for our Great Qing. It must be due to Your Majesty’s boundless virtue, which moved Heaven to bestow such auspiciousness.”
Zhang Yushu, Minister of Personnel, who missed the chance by a step, cursed “shameless” in his heart, but quickly followed up.
“Your Majesty, the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen first had merit in birthing heirs for the royal family, then presented the golden grain for the realm. In my humble opinion, the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen deserves the position of Mother of the Nation. May Your Majesty confer the title of Empress upon her!”
A flash of inspiration struck all the officials at once.
That’s right, the Emperor boasted about her at court day after day, as if none of them had wives or children—wasn’t it all so Imperial Consort Zhen could be made Empress in name and fact?
Everyone looked at each other for a moment—none raised objections, for what use was there in opposing?
The Crown Prince was still locked in Danningju, awaiting punishment after the war.
As for the other princes, each had their strengths, but none could compare to the nobility of the sons born to the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen.
Sooner or later, she would be made Empress—why would they bother to object?
They could only agree.
Mingzhu immediately stepped forward: “This minister agrees. The Imperial Noble Consort Zhen is virtuous and benevolent, a model for women under Heaven, and truly worthy of the position of Empress!”
“We concur!”
“Your Majesty…”
Any minister with a brain—whether sincerely or reluctantly—spoke up, and the atmosphere at court reached its peak.
Truth be told, Kangxi did have the intention of elevating Fang He’s status, but to make her Empress…he hadn’t really considered it.
There was still the same problem: previously, even the eminent monks at Tanzhe Temple said his eight characters were too “hard”, hinting at a fate that would bring disaster to his wives.
Fang He had just given birth to triplets, her body still weak.
If she was made Empress and something happened…Kangxi didn’t even want to think about it.
Yet, he also didn’t want to belittle Fang He, saying she wasn’t worthy—in his heart, Fang He was already his wife.
Kangxi pondered for a moment, then smiled: “What you all say is reasonable, but conferring the title of Empress cannot be done hastily. The war is not yet over, and the people are still suffering. Given the gentle and virtuous nature of the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen, she would surely not agree.”
Mingzhu: “……”
They kept praising, and His Majesty still refused to yield.
The whole capital knew the temperament of the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen by now.
Hadn’t His Majesty been shut out from Yanxi Palace several times already?
Kangxi didn’t care what the others thought.
As long as he was satisfied, that was enough—even if that rascal was only “gentle” or “virtuous” in the most subtle of ways.
Maintaining his composure, he smiled and said: “Since all of you believe that the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen is worthy of being Empress, I am very gratified, and I do not wish to wrong her.”
“Thus, let the Ministry of Rites draft a decree: bestow upon the Imperial Noble Consort Zhen a two-character honorific, grant her the name Yuan Zhen, change the zhidi bird motif to a phoenix design, and bestow upon her the golden seal and imperial register of the Empress. Henceforth, all shall address her by Empress Yuan Zhen of the Imperial Noble Consort rank, and grant her the privileges of the Empress!”
Everyone was stunned—was that allowed?
This was just like marrying a wife but not officially installing her as the Crown Princess.
The character “Yuan” was indeed often used for a principal wife, but this Consort had already used “Yuan” during her time as Noble Consort.
Even if moved to the front and given Empress honors, she would still be a concubine after a hundred years.
But since Kangxi had made up his mind, aside from Zhang Tingyu and Xiong Cilu from the Ministry of Rites, no one else spoke.
His Majesty had clearly thought this through—he didn’t see it as slighting the Imperial Noble Consort, so why should they fret on her behalf?
Who knew, with a bit of pillow talk from the Consort, she might become Empress after all?
Everyone quietly observed, waiting to see what would happen next.
***
What happened at court was quickly reported to Fang He in the eastern warm chamber of Chunhui Hall.
Kangxi, afraid Fang He would be upset, used the excuse of handling state affairs to retreat to the Imperial Study, sending Liang Jiugong to pass on the message, who skillfully shoved the task onto his godson.
Raising children for nothing—might as well worship them as ancestors.
Li Dequan clearly understood this and entered the hall with a stomach full of bitterness, delivering the message cautiously.
He even surreptitiously pushed forward a set of enamel tea ware, which the Emperor especially liked, just in case…the Lady Consort got angry and had nowhere to vent.
Even Cui Wei, Xinhua and the others wore sullen expressions.
Why couldn’t their mistress properly become Empress?
Why bestow a two-character honorific—was it to disgust someone?
After inwardly cursing, Cui Wei realized with a rueful smile that in just three or five years, she had gone from worrying that her mistress would offend His Majesty, to daring to quietly scold him in her heart.
Truthfully, His Majesty treated their mistress very well—if she wanted stars, he wouldn’t give her the moon, but withholding the Empress’s position wasn’t really a big deal.
Everyone held their breath, watching Fang He’s reaction.
Fang He covered the sleeping Jiujiu with a thin blanket, grabbed the enamel teapot, poured herself a cup of Jin Yinhua Dew, and under increasingly tense gazes, took a sip and suddenly laughed.
“Your heads are nearly buried in your chests—worried I’ll lose my temper?” she teased, sweeping a glance at the group.
“If I don’t reward you all with a round of beatings, will you be able to sleep tonight?”
Li Dequan: “…..”
Forcing a smile, he hurriedly said, “Whatever reward the Lady Consort wishes to give, we will accept with joy, not daring to think otherwise.”
“His Majesty said you would certainly understand his intentions. As for what I’m worried about—there’s nothing at all, ha…ha…ha!”
Fang He: “….”
‘If you can’t smile, don’t force it.’
But she was truly amused, so she composed herself and sipped her tea: “Whether I understand or not, His Majesty will have to come and explain it to me himself. Tell him, if he sends someone else again, I’ll take the children to the Imperial Mother!”
Li Dequan: “…..”
If you don’t set His Majesty on fire, at least don’t light the lamp!
He only wished these two ancestors could go back to quarreling straightforwardly, so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught in the middle.
Li Dequan had no choice but to deliver Fang He’s message to the Imperial Study.
Kangxi laughed when he heard it.
If that rascal really didn’t get his meaning, she would have rushed over by now.
Since she was willing to throw a tantrum, she clearly understood.
After finishing the memorials at hand and seeing it was almost time for lunch, he simply returned to Chunhui Hall to dine with Fang He and the children.
The Sixteenth Prince, Seventeenth Prince, and Tenth Princess were still nursing and lived in the side chambers of Chunhui Hall.
But Jiujiu and Er Bao, annoyed by the cries of the three little ones, had moved to Jiayin Hall.
Fang He, however, didn’t feel safe letting the two stay there alone—not because she feared they’d be bullied, but because, untethered, they were as wild as huskies.
So during the day, Jiujiu and Er Bao stayed in Chunhui Hall and only went to Jiayin Hall after dinner.
When Kangxi returned to Chunhui Hall, he found that Jiujiu and Er Bao, who usually crowded onto Fang He’s bed to sleep with her in the morning, were nowhere to be found.
Entering naturally, Kangxi asked, “It’s still hot—did you send them back to Jiayin Hall already?”
Fang He smiled at him and said, “The Seventh Princess fell ill, so Jiujiu and Er Bao went to visit her. Afterward, they’ll go to Ruijing Pavilion to keep the Imperial Mother company. They have a sedan chair.”
Kangxi felt slightly awkward under Fang He’s meaningful smile, coughed lightly, and gave a casual order.
“Then have the meal served. I’ll eat with you, and after the meal I still have…”
Fang He cut him off firmly: “You still need your noon nap. The rest can wait till after you wake up!”
Kangxi: “…..”
That rascal was still drinking her tonics, which had calming herbs.
Once she was asleep, he could summon people to Chunhui Hall to discuss things anyway.
Yet after lunch, once he entered the curtains, Fang He grew restless, her little hands wandering boldly, clearly intent on staging a dragon and phoenix sword dance.