In the thirty-seventh year of Kangxi, winter.
The surprise Fang He prepared for Kangxi continued to be the talk of the influential circles in Jingcheng even after the Ban Jin Festival.
The news even reached Cao Yin in Jiangnan, who specially sent a great deal of jade from Jiangnan to the capital, all of which ended up at Yanxi Palace.
When Fang He saw the gift list, she found it both amusing and touching.
It wasn’t that the palace attendants at Qianqing Palace were bold enough to leak the Emperor’s private affairs; it’s just that when someone is happy, it’s really hard not to show off—even the Emperor is no exception.
Perhaps because it was rare for Fang He to put so much time and effort into something, Kangxi found it difficult to suppress his delight.
He was even more enthusiastic inside the bedchamber.
One day, Mingzhu and others saw a pair of exquisite jade figurines on horseback in the Imperial Study, and immediately recognized them as depictions of the Emperor and the Imperial Noble Consort.
Along with the other attending ministers, they offered polite words of praise.
Ever since Suo’etu entered Zongrenfu, the Hesheri clan had fallen into decline.
Mingzhu, who had become restless after regaining his high position and considered forming factions for personal gain, completely let go of those thoughts.
With fewer schemes on his mind, he became much calmer overall.
As Nalan Rongruo’s father, his literary talents could not quite compare to his son’s, but he was still a leading scholar among the civil officials.
In just a few words, he managed to praise Kangxi right to his heart.
Kangxi would never let anyone see the screen Fang He made for him, nor the jade sculpture of a couple kissing under a tree.
But that didn’t stop him from happily accepting the flattery from Mingzhu and the others, replying with understated modesty.
“My skill at jade carving can’t compare to that of the Imperial Noble Consort. If it weren’t for her excellent painting and the screen she gave me, enlarged from her work, I wouldn’t have been able to sculpt it so vividly.”
This statement rendered Mingzhu and the others speechless.
It wasn’t that they didn’t know how to keep flattering him, but there was simply too much new information to process, making everyone contemplate the implications deeply.
‘Was His Majesty implying that the Imperial Noble Consort could also carve jade?’
‘How did His Majesty know that?’
No matter how loudly they flattered, as officials who needed to interpret the Emperor’s intentions, they had to weigh their words carefully before speaking.
If the Imperial Noble Consort had gifted the Emperor a jade sculpture, painted a picture even more exquisite than lifelike, and presented him with a screen…
Such an elaborate gesture had to be a congratulatory gift for the Emperor’s birthday celebration, didn’t it?
Astonishing.
And that led to another question—gifts for the Emperor’s birthday celebration were offerings from all except the Empress Dowager.
Yet the Emperor had used the word “gave,” clearly forgetting the distinction between ruler and subject, placing himself beneath her.
Although everyone in and out of the palace knew how favored the Imperial Noble Consort was, once again they secretly marveled at the Emperor’s affection for her.
Of course, that didn’t stop them from continuing to heap praises upon the Imperial Noble Consort and exclaiming over the deep affection between Emperor and consort.
Whenever the Emperor even hinted at something before his officials, they had to interpret it to the fullest.
Since the Emperor was openly showing off, if they didn’t help spread the legend of the Emperor and consort, they’d be unworthy of his favor.
Not long after the Emperor’s birthday celebration, word quickly spread throughout Jingcheng that the Imperial Noble Consort possessed unmatched talent and artistry, and that the Emperor’s love for her was deep and unwavering.
For a while, all the influential families were speaking sourly to their wives and concubines at home.
“Even someone as noble as the Imperial Noble Consort knows to give the Emperor surprises. And you? All you ever do is ask me for money to buy this or that!”
“The Imperial Noble Consort remembers every little thing from over ten years ago with the Emperor, but you only remember those petty quarrels!”
“Instead of getting jealous all the time, why don’t you learn how to serve your husbands better? Then maybe they wouldn’t always be out at other people’s houses.”
Such passive-aggressive words infuriated the womenfolk.
Those with gentler tempers replied tactfully—
“His Majesty treats the Imperial Noble Consort the same for over ten years—Sir, how many women do you have in your rear court?”
“If I may ask, over these past ten years, what have you ever done for me to remember?”
“The Imperial Noble Consort doesn’t need to get jealous because the Emperor never visits anyone else. Shall I ask which courtyard you spent last night in, sir?”
The less even-tempered ones would just scratch at them directly.
They’d love to give their husbands a surprise too—but would the surprise just end up on the bedside of other wives or some vixen outside?
By late summer, traces of scratching were still occasionally visible on the officials’ skin, showing just how effective this round of flattery had been.
Still, whenever there was a palace banquet or a chance to meet the Imperial Noble Consort, even the women who had been quarreling at home would change their demeanor, endlessly praising the Imperial Noble Consort’s virtue and the Emperor’s devotion to her.
***
At first, Fang He felt embarrassed hearing all the compliments, but as time passed, she grew accustomed to calmly accepting them.
However, these compliments, though representing others’ admiration, also silently placed her on a pedestal.
She had already felt a pang of guilt for Kangxi’s delighted overreaction; if she’d treated him just a little better in the past, a mere birthday surprise wouldn’t be enough for people to talk about it for half a year.
The better Kangxi treated her, the more she wanted to be good to him, even though she still fell a huge distance short of being a virtuous wife and loving mother—but at least she had to keep up appearances.
After all, a virtuous wife and loving mother was just someone who cared for her husband and children.
There were so many attendants in Qianqing Palace, and Kangxi didn’t want Fang He to tire herself out in the Imperial Kitchens, preferring to treat her like a pampered pig—at most, coaxing her to put more effort into bed.
Since she couldn’t do much for him, she turned her attention to the children.
Ten-year-old Jiujiu had already grown into a graceful young lady.
After the eldest, second, third, and fourth princesses married in succession, the Fifth Princess became reserved and silent, the Sixth Princess was timid and shy, the Eighth Princess had poor health, and the Seventh Princess, Uxihan, was close to Jiujiu.
Now, Jiujiu had become the leader among all the princesses in the palace.
Whatever she said, the others would follow.
If Fang He wasn’t paying attention, Jiujiu would take a few older sisters to the Hot Springs Palace to visit the mothers of the Sixth and Eighth Princesses, and Fang He had no opportunity to get involved.
As for Er Bao, Fang He seldom called him by his nickname anymore.
Yin Hui, though only eight, was already the leading figure in the Shang Shufang.
Whether in front of his elder brothers, or the teachers subtly instructing him in the ways of rulership, or his two younger brothers, he was growing more at ease day by day.
One day, while greeting him, Fang He got up to fetch something and found that Yin Hui had already grown to her shoulder!
As the default next Crown Prince in the eyes of the officials, Yin Hui’s meticulousness and thoroughness left Fang He with nothing to correct.
This made her feel a little lost.
She asked Cui Wei, “Don’t you think time is passing too quickly?”
“I still remember when they’d hug my legs and beg me for silver when they were little. In the blink of an eye, they’re all little adults now.”
When she was young, she’d lived for herself, only caring for her own comfort.
Now that she wanted to do more, she felt a sort of helpless bewilderment.
Cui Wei didn’t notice her mistress’s subtle melancholy, and just smiled, “I suppose it’s because you’ve been too busy this year. When a person is busy, time just flies by. Actually, all the little ones are still young.”
Fang He glanced at the account book in front of her, sighed gloomily, and slumped over the low table.
“How did everything pile up at once? I haven’t enjoyed hot pot with Minbao and the others in the pavilion for days!”
No wonder she hadn’t noticed Jiujiu and Er Bao changing.
The Second and Third Princesses had both married early in the year, and preparations for their dowries and the journey to Beimeng for their marriages required attention.
Though some tasks belonged to the Ministry of Rites, the Ministry of War, and the Imperial Household Department, because it involved the princesses and Fang He had Kangxi’s trust, most things required her decision.
Not to mention that Concubine An and Concubine Jing had both “died suddenly” and returned to their families; she also needed to worry more about the Fifth and Seventh Princesses.
Moreover, the Third Prince Yinti and the Fourth Prince Yinzhen had been married for two years, and Yinqi would be married early next year—all needing to leave the palace and set up their own residences, with plenty of inside and outside affairs to manage.
October brought the Ban Jin Festival and the Empress Dowager’s birthday, with a flood of gift lists and arrangements for the celebrations, all needing Fang He’s approval.
Even though Consort Hui, Consort Rong, and Consort Yi all returned to help, the sheer amount of work still left Fang He exhausted.
Right now, she was picking candidates for the prospective Imperial Son-in-law for the sixteen-year-old Fifth Princess.
Princesses married late, and unless she wanted a blind marriage, the candidates had to serve in court so the Fifth Princess, Galuodai, could get a look at them.
If they were photographs, Fang He would be more interested—after all, they were all young and strong.
But the portraits in these times… really left much to be desired; at most, you could only tell if they looked decent.
As if things couldn’t get worse, Xinke and her three companions had also reached the age to leave the palace.
Though they said they’d be willing to serve a few more years, apart from Xinzi, the other three wanted to marry.
Fang He didn’t want to delay them too long and already let Xinke, Xinhua, and Xinnan leave the palace during the Mid-Autumn Festival.
That meant with five children, Fule and the others had to help more, leaving Fang He short-handed.
She could only turn to the capable Cui Wei: “Did you find out about the legitimate grandson of the Feiyan Gu family of Ula and the eldest grandson of the Tong Family’s second branch?”
These were her preferred choices for the Fifth Princess.
Cui Wei massaged Fang He’s shoulders, smiling teasingly, “If you ask me, this is really hard to check. I did ask around, but since His Majesty hinted at choosing them as Imperial Sons-in-law, their families have known for years—on the surface, there’s surely nothing wrong.”
Anyway, what she found was that neither had concubines, didn’t drink, didn’t frequent pleasure houses, and had no bad habits.
Fang He raised her eyebrows and asked. “Are they really that good, or just putting on a show for the palace?”
She didn’t wait for Cui Wei’s reply before slumping over the table again, sighing, “If only we could have a Naadam festival in Jingcheng, let all these young men fight on stage and let the princesses judge their physique first.”
“And then have people visit restaurants and pleasure houses more often—if you see them face-to-face, you’ll know whether they’re the real deal.”
As she spoke, Fang He thought of the impressive chests she’d seen in Beimeng, and the lithe dance moves in the pleasure houses she couldn’t quite remember.
She looked up and sighed, “Why can’t I be the one doing these things!”
“What do you want to do?” Kangxi’s amused voice came from the door.
He strode in, sat down beside Fang He, glanced at the portraits on the low table, and frowned slightly.
“Just leave these matters to Consort Hui and the others. There’s no need for you to trouble yourself.”
Although Fang He didn’t mind, Kangxi remembered how much she hated the Uya clan.
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