But Fang He wouldn’t accept his explanation, and her words sounded particularly nice: “I never doubted the Emperor’s true feelings. If I got jealous every time a woman appeared before you, that would be unworthy of your affection.”
“Besides, there are so many palace maids. Could I even finish being jealous of them all?”
But after saying the nice words, she still wasn’t done making a fuss, refusing to reconcile with him in the bedchamber and constantly retreating to Yanxi Palace.
“The Emperor actually thinks I’d get jealous over such a small thing? Clearly you don’t believe in my feelings! I’m hurt! And besides, you just happened to pick Yuan He out of anyone—so what, you just can’t get over Xiao Yuan and Little Fang? I’m so miserable.”
Jiujiu, the second baby, and the three little ones, plus even Yin Tang’s children, all snuck around munching melon seeds, watching the spectacle between Qianqing Palace and Yanxi Palace.
Luckily the concubines weren’t in the palace, or the drama would have spread beyond the walls in a single night.
Even with Fang He making such a scene, it hadn’t stopped her from eating with Kangxi, sleeping together, and generally raising chaos together.
But then, a few days ago, an article suddenly appeared in the Great Qing Gazette about a Jin Surname Master and his young wife experiencing the “seven-year itch” after ten years of marriage.
Except for not being set in the palace, the story was nearly identical to what had happened between Kangxi and Fang He.
But the ending was that the young wife lost Jin Master’s favor, and, alone in the main house…ate and drank well, raising two handsome young attendants.
The third prince was still lying immobile in the princes’ quarters.
Kangxi had heard about Prince Kang’s situation and visited the Prince Kang Mansion.
When he returned, his wife was missing.
And now, look at them—both husband and wife had ended up at the Prince Kang Mansion today, a “fate” Kangxi could only grit his teeth at.
Given his insight, if he couldn’t tell by now that Fang He’s show of heartbreak was to cover her plans for leaving the palace—and that Third Prince had been used as a pawn—then he and Fang He could just have another child.
Inside, Liang Madam and Naren were oblivious to the crisis outside, focusing only on keeping outsiders away.
Yet Liang Madam was also troubled by Fang He’s antics.
If she hadn’t needed to get to the bottom of things, she’d have loved to knock this little troublemaker out and send her back to the palace.
That the Manchu Emperor could put up with Fang He’s temperament, in a way, showed his capability.
The two women distracted Fang He, coaxing her to sit down and drink honey water instead of wine, then exchanged glances.
Now that Liang Madam had been granted a pardon for her whole group after contributing her cesarean surgery techniques to the Imperial Medical Institute, the method was still too unstable to be promoted by the court, but Fan Shaohui had been given a sinecure at Shuntian Prefecture as a cover for Tianya Inn and Health Preservation House.
Both Naren and Liang Madam were deeply grateful to Fang He.
Years ago, Naren had helped Fang He leave, repaying a favor from Fuqin Lakshen, and Fang He had given them hope for a new path—she never owed them anything.
On the contrary, they owed her much, and hearing Fang He act as if she’d lost favor made them anxious, planning possible escape routes.
Unlike Fang He, they knew the meaning of “walls have ears” and communicated only with their eyes.
All the children were in the palace—if they wanted to flee, it would be too late.
Liang Madam made a throat-cutting gesture: if it came to it, just poison that dog Emperor, let Fang He become Empress Dowager, and do as she pleased.
Naren shook her head slightly: The Crown Prince was still there—if anything happened to Kangxi, all of them, Fang He included, wouldn’t survive.
And the Crown Prince might not respect Fang He as Empress Dowager either.
Liang Madam thought for a moment, then took out her needles and had Naren hold Fang He steady while she pricked her a few times to keep her sober.
As Fang He yelped in pain, Liang Madam lowered her voice to ask, “If he really wronged you, what would you do?”
Fang He, clutching her hand and sniveling, was taken aback—wronged her?
No, lately she’d been giving that man a hard time, and was just planning to call it quits after the Longevity Festival.
But with the alcohol, her reactions slowed.
Before she could answer, the door was kicked open.
A tall, cold figure entered, wind and rain flooding in with him, startling the three inside—no, only Liang Madam and Naren, who both shuddered.
Regardless of any wild ideas in their hearts, facing the Emperor, they didn’t dare act out and hurriedly knelt to pay respects.
Fang He, eyes bright, pounced forward.
“You’re here? Little Fang has been waiting for you so long! Little Eunuch Xuan—did you miss me?”
After so many years together in the bedchamber, they’d played every role—even “Eunuch Xuan” was nothing novel.
But private games were one thing—Kangxi would never allow outsiders to know their secrets.
Expressionless, he wrapped his arm around Fang He’s waist and covered her mouth, as she started sobbing drunkenly for more attention.
Ignoring the others, Kangxi scooped her up and strode out.
Liang Jiugong was already waiting with a heavy cloak to keep Fang He warm.
Originally, Kangxi hadn’t wanted to acknowledge Liang Madam and the others; he felt that if not for them, this troublemaker wouldn’t get worse.
But as he reached the door, he suddenly paused and tossed out a cold remark.
“If that day ever comes, I’ll spare you your lives!”
With that, he marched off carrying the still-wriggling Fang He, leaving Liang Madam and Naren stunned.
Liang Madam turned to Naren in disbelief and asked, “Does he mean…he’d really pardon us if we rebelled for Guoguo’s sake?”
If that day truly came, Kangxi knew, with Liang Madam’s skills, anything might happen—yet he could still make such a promise…
Naren suddenly laughed, shaking her head, “It’s fine, we don’t need to worry. That day will never come.”
Because of her time in Beimeng, she had always hated unfaithful men and deeply distrusted most men.
If not for Yunsheng growing up with her, she never would have accepted anyone.
Even now, she harbored shadows Yunsheng couldn’t reach.
Yet just now, she’d suddenly heard in Kangxi’s words a kind of cherishing for Fang He that outweighed his own life.
Before she married, she never dared dream of such love, but Fang He had found it, and they truly need not worry for her.
Fang He always said she wasn’t a good person, but beneath her contradictions lay a naive wish to bring goodness and vibrancy to others.
Perhaps that was Guoguo’s good fortune.
Liang Madam agreed, even muttering about changing her opinion of Kangxi, while Kangxi, already carrying Fang He, left Hats Lane and took the path toward Shenwu Gate.
To avoid drawing attention to the Emperor’s departure, they did not take the Meridian Gate, but a small side gate near Shenwu Gate.
The guards there were already used to Fang He and the concubines going in and out, so it caused no alarm.
Once back at Qianqing Palace, Kangxi could endure no longer.
He sat Fang He across his knees and gave her a firm slap.
“Tell me, what kind of nonsense are you up to now!”
Truthfully, though his feelings for Fang He had never lessened, after so many years, it pained him that she still had to find excuses to escape and breathe.
Was life with him really so hard to bear?
Fang He, feeling the sting on her rear, started wriggling like a little turtle.
“Waaah, I was wrong, I was wrong—wait, no, I wasn’t wrong!”
Her slurred words grew less clear as she clung to Kangxi’s lapels, whimpering, “Didn’t you say you liked me making a fuss? Waaah, men are all liars…”
“And after all my effort—hic—preparing a surprise for your forty-fifth birthday, working so hard for so long, what’s wrong with going out to relax with my sisters, waaah~”
“From now on, I’m never going to be a good wife again, waaah…”
Halfway through, she fell asleep on Kangxi’s lap.
She’d had several cups of peach blossom brew—at her current tolerance, if Liang Madam hadn’t used acupuncture to sober her up, she’d have long since passed out.
Yet her muddled words left Kangxi in a daze.
All her recent antics—making chaos in the palace, even letting Jiujiu and the boys make mischief at court—was all to hide the surprise she’d prepared for him?
Kangxi’s gloom vanished.
He immediately picked up Fang He and hurried to the Nuan Pavilion, ready to have her attended to, then head to Yanxi Palace to see what surprise awaited.
But as soon as he entered the Nuan Pavilion, he froze.
The peony-embroidered folding screen facing the floral archway had been replaced with a larger one, upon which was sewn a picture—a painting Kangxi recognized well.
On the vast northern grasslands, atop a steed, two figures embraced amid waves of green, under brilliant sunlight—one lowering his head, one raising hers, both smiling at each other.
Kangxi’s heart clenched with a sudden ache.
Unable to help himself, he stepped forward to gently caress the painting.
Cui Wei, who had anxiously followed back to the palace, finally relaxed a little, and quietly reported, “The Master painted this herself, and every stitch was embroidered by her own hand.”
“The reason Master’s been making such a fuss was that sometimes she stabbed her hands too badly, and feared you’d worry…”
Cui Wei glanced at Fang He, pouting and sleeping clutching her blanket.
“Master said there are some things, some words, some people—no matter where she is, no matter how much time passes, she’s never forgotten, and always holds them close.”
Such a large screen, to get it to the palace, would be impossible if the Emperor and the Shadow Guards were around.
That’s why Fang He had left with Kangxi, to give Liu An and Wei Zhu time to distract Li Dequan and arrange everything.
Kangxi walked to the bed, gazed at Fang He, and bent down, wanting to kiss her.
But as he leaned closer, he noticed, atop the bedside cabinet, a pair of jade figurines—literally, two little jade people sitting hand-in-hand under a tree, already pressed together in a kiss.
He gently lifted Fang He’s hand and sure enough, her fingers were crisscrossed with fine, fresh cuts—this was why she hadn’t come to Qianqing Palace during the day.
It was his fault.
Sulking with unspoken discomfort, he hadn’t even noticed her wounds during their time together.
Kangxi sighed silently, tucked the jade couple into his palm, and placed a kiss on her brow.
With such a soft, irresistible little tigress, how could anyone bear to wrong her?
She deserved for him to hold the whole world in his hands for her.
“Liang Ah-jie, Naren Ah-jie, let me tell you something~” Fang He suddenly turned over, murmuring.
“There are some things, some people—no matter where I am, no matter how long it’s been, I always remember. You’re my most important…friends.”
In her dream, Fang He raised her wine bottle high, drinking freely with Liang Madam and Naren, as in the past, with a tipsy smile, treasuring everyone who showed her kindness.
She started mumbling in her sleep, “That’s right: you, and you, and you—you’re all my most important friends. Don’t ask, there’s no “one and only”—just love me a little more!”
Outside her dream, Kangxi rose, shot a look at Cui Wei—who dearly wished to give her Master a whack—and walked out expressionless.
No one noticed: he, the jade figures in his hand, and even the face on the screen, all wore the same deeply contented smile.