Mainly, the overseas goods that Yinreng sent back were so tempting that Kangxi’s private treasury had never been so full.
Looking at his many sons, Kangxi found it hard not to be tempted.
If Yin Hui hadn’t disagreed, he would have sent Yin Xi abroad long ago.
Perhaps Consort Rong didn’t know what Kangxi was thinking, but her sense for danger was always keen.
Otherwise, how could she and her son have stayed well while the cleverer Consort Hui had lost so much face to Fang He?
Now that Yin Xi’s title was stripped, Kangxi couldn’t bear to send him abroad; in the end, it spared the increasingly pleasure-loving, plump Yin Xi a disaster.
But thinking back to Yin Yu’s words earlier, Yin Xi realized there were things he still didn’t understand, so he specially invited the closer Yinzhi and Yinzhen for a drink to consult them.
This time, after drinking, Yin Xi dared not run his mouth, only sulked, “I’m just sour about Father’s favoritism. Whenever we paid respects to the Imperial Mother, I always did my best, didn’t I?”
“Even with my own wife, my mother couldn’t care, but I always made time to pay respects to Imperial Mother—never neglected it once.”
“All because of a few unpleasant words—did those two brats Yin Yu and Yinshi really have to go so far?”
Yinzhi couldn’t even be bothered to look at him.
Back in the day, this third brother had some brains, but now, after years buried in household affairs and too much reading, he’d grown ever more foolish.
He’d never shirked duty, but just wasn’t likable.
He simply asked, “Did it never occur to you why Yinsi, Yin Tang, and Prince Yin’e are all so close with Yin Hui?”
Among their brothers, the most diplomatic was Eighth Prince Yinsi, the sharpest was Ninth Prince Yin Tang, and the best at playing dumb was not Yin Hui but, in outsiders’ eyes, the “useless” Prince Yin’e.
What?
But apart from Yinsi’s lower status, Yin Tang and Prince Yin’e both had distinguished rank—neither of them had any issue with Yin Hui, so why should Yin Xi be so dissatisfied?
Yin Xi slapped his forehead and muttered, “Isn’t it just that Yin Hui is good at getting along? I just don’t have his glib tongue—if I did… Are we really worse than him?”
Yinzhen sneered, succinctly shattering his illusion, “When you gathered your retainers, did you ever wonder how you compare to Yin Hui? When Yin Hui ran errands for Father, even risking himself for us brothers, did you ever ask yourself that?”
Yin Xi was stunned, ‘It was true.’
When their brothers left the palace as adults, they feared being looked down on or becoming outsiders, always wracking their brains to win over officials and gather followers, always asking advisors for everything…
Yin Hui had never done any of that.
Yin Hui was never afraid of offending officials, always diving among the common people, never becoming especially close with any family.
Though they were brothers, the best at setting traps for each other were brothers, and they all harbored some wariness.
Only with Yin Hui, no matter what was asked, he always offered a solution and ran errands himself.
Still, Yin Xi didn’t understand and asked, “What’s he after, then?”
Yinzhi popped a candied fruit into his mouth, scoffing, “He just doesn’t want to become another Second Brother. Second Brother had plenty of retainers—look where he is now.”
Yinzhen explained, “In the end, Great Qing will belong to Fifteenth Brother. If it’s him, I’m convinced. He puts the greater good ahead of his own interests.”
All were imperial descendants; at first, when Kangxi clearly favored Yin Hui, everyone felt some discontent and wanted to compete for the right to the succession.
But soon they realized: when they desired the throne, all they could do was vie for power and influence, but when Yin Hui wanted it, he first treated Great Qing as his own, proceeding neither too fast nor slow, never grasping or grabbing.
Wasn’t that admirable?
Yin Xi fell silent.
Even half-drunk, he had never felt so clear-headed.
He understood now that what he thought of as favoritism was only because he couldn’t be Yin Hui.
That was the confidence Yuan Zhen Imperial Noble Consort gave Yin Hui, and it was something none of them could emulate.
So… this title “Imperial Mother”—all the brothers called it willingly, and all the consorts submitted wholeheartedly.
With such a mother, who wouldn’t envy him?
He really was muddle-headed, thinking that a few sour words to Yin Yu could ease his jealousy.
Yin Xi gave himself another slap, the sound drawing Yinzhi and Yinzhen’s gaze.
“All right, from now on I won’t be foolish again. I’ll just do my job for… Father!”
He meant to say Yin Hui, but in the end, pride made him hold his tongue.
Right?
But Yinzhi and Yinzhen understood and smiled without speaking.
They’d all felt that jealousy before, just hadn’t let it show, so there was no reason to laugh at Yin Xi.
Anyway, even if Yin Xi played the fool, eventually the Imperial Noble Consort would become the proper Empress Dowager, and he’d learn his lesson in due time.
But none of the three brothers expected that “in due time” would come so soon.
At the thousand autumns celebration for the Imperial Noble Consort’s fiftieth birthday, as soon as the princes and consorts had paid their respects to Fang He, Kangxi dropped a bombshell.
“I am not young anymore. I often feel my strength is lacking. After the longevity festival next year, I intend to abdicate. Who do you think is most suitable to inherit the throne?”
Everyone was stunned for a moment before ministers began begging the Emperor to reconsider, and in a flash, the hall was full of people kneeling.
Who they thought best didn’t matter—no one else would be chosen.
Still, they couldn’t just leap for joy at a new emperor the moment the Emperor said he’d abdicate.
Yin Hui was the most sincerely opposed.
He’d planned to make another trip south next year to investigate the salt tax—if he had to ascend the throne, how could he sneak out for fun?
But Kangxi didn’t allow anyone to keep begging.
He just said, “My mind is made up. The South Study is drafting the edict. Submit the names of those you favor in due time.”
Everyone: “…”
‘If no one else is chosen, what’s the point of drafting an edict?’
After everyone’s tearful, futile pleas, memorials from ministers and princes soon poured in.
As if arranged in advance, from First Prince Yinzhi to Seventeenth Prince Yin Shi, each had ministerial support—one vote per person, no more, no less.
Then all the princes and the rest of the ministers chose Yin Hui.
Kangxi tossed the memorials for Fang He to read, laughing all the while.
“That boy is at it again—the Censorate is probably being driven mad by Yin Hui.”
To save face for the other brothers, thirteen officials of fourth rank and above in the Censorate each recommended a different son, but didn’t mention Yin Hui.
If word got out, the Censorate’s censors would be accused of being too close with the princes.
Fang He was still in shock at Kangxi’s decision to abdicate.
She absentmindedly propped her chin and murmured, “Yes, yes, Your Majesty is right.”
Kangxi pinched Fang He’s always-tender cheek and asked, “Where has your mind wandered these days?”
Fang He glared and slapped his hand away by saying, “You’re both old now! Stop flirting with the future Empress Dowager!”
Kangxi: “…..”
She leaned her head against his arm, staring at him in confusion.
“Why are you really abdicating? Don’t give me that ‘lack of energy’ excuse—I know perfectly well how much energy you have!”
Earlier, when she was sick for half a year, he busied himself with everything but left her alone.
When she’d fully recovered and suspected he was too old to move, he suddenly pounced on her in the middle of the night, slowly and steadily going at it until dawn.
Her waist nearly broke, and she needed Fule to massage her for days before she recovered.
Kangxi only smiled, changing the subject instead.
“By the way, have you seen Zhalegan Guolemin these days?”
Fang He puffed out her cheeks, “Don’t change the subject!”
Kangxi raised his eyebrows, “She wants to sneak out of the capital with Jiujiu, and you’re not stopping her?”
“Of course I—huh?” Fang He sat up in surprise.
“Leave the capital? Isn’t Jiujiu going to Beimeng?”
Kangxi nodded, “Yes, things in Tibet are a little unstable. I’ve sent a secret order to Fan Lianghan to take Jiujiu to Beimeng to help her two sisters establish land, and use the opportunity to discuss affairs in Tibet and Luosha.”
Fang He was even more bewildered, “Isn’t that dangerous? Why would Jiujiu agree to let Minbao go along?”
Jiujiu she could accept—Chunlai and Jinghao were both with her now, there were secret guards at her side, and Fan Lianghan wouldn’t let Jiujiu fall into danger, so she could just barely rest easy.
Even if she worried, her daughter was grown and had her own ideas—Fang He didn’t want to use filial piety to restrain her.
But Minbao, as the youngest child, had been frail since birth.
Though she’d grown stronger over the years, she had always been a gentle and obedient child.
Why would she suddenly want to take risks?
Kangxi smiled and said, “According to Minbao’s Anda, her riding and archery skills now surpass most men—she seems to have a natural talent for horsemanship.”
Ah!
“If I’m not mistaken, she wants to go to Beimeng to work with Ning Chuge and Yierha’s tribes to form a female cavalry.”
As for what would happen once the unit was formed, Kangxi didn’t need to say it—besides going to war, what else could there be?
Fang He stared in disbelief—was this really her soft, sweet, adorable little daughter?
Just the other day, Minbao was hugging her arm begging for a manor in Chengde to raise horses…
Fang He pinched her forehead—so Minbao had been planning all along.
Suddenly enlightened, she stared at Kangxi with wide-eyed and asked, “You’re not abdicating just because of this, are you?”
Kangxi casually glanced out the window at Liang Jiugong bowing, the corners of his lips curling up.
“I really am out of energy. With a son to do the work, why should I, an old and feeble man, keep toiling?”
To put it bluntly, he was getting old and didn’t want to take the blame anymore—let his son get a taste of the headaches.
Fang He: “…”
The longer she spent with Kangxi, the more she felt that the two of them truly were a couple.
His ability to shirk responsibility—he’d be a master in any era.
Thinking of the officials’ future spittle flying in court, the censors hugging columns and weeping, she glanced at Kangxi’s aging limbs, took a deep breath, slapped the low table, and her face became resolute.
“Your Majesty is right. I’m old too, and want to spend a few more years with you. I officially recommend my own son!”
If she didn’t take care of herself, she really wouldn’t last much longer.
“The other princes all have their own families and businesses to occupy them. Yin Hui, on the other hand, can’t even get his wife to come around—his whole heart is in state affairs. He’s perfect for relieving Your Majesty’s burdens!”
She figured she could last a few more years at least.
Kangxi nodded solemnly and said, “Guoguo is right. Maybe after becoming emperor, that boy will finally develop some skills, and won’t keep fighting with his wife like cats and dogs—otherwise, people will laugh.”
Outside the door, Yin Yu: “…”
He still hadn’t recovered from the shock of his last little sister also leaving him lonely, when he overheard his Father and mother shamelessly reaching an agreement.
He couldn’t smash the floor of Qianqing Palace, so, with a face full of desolation, he signaled to Liang Jiugong, then turned and left.
Where no one could see him, the moment he stepped outside the palace gate, he mounted his horse and galloped straight for the Prince Jian Residence and the Prince of Yong’s Residence.
‘Brothers, help! We’re out of shields!!’