As soon as the Empress Dowager entered the bedchamber, Fang He stirred, her awakening timed with impeccable precision.
To linger in feigned slumber any longer risked exposure, especially with the imperial physician the Empress Dowager had brought, whose probing pulse would unravel her ruse.
Her eyes fluttered open, and there, seated by her bedside, was the Empress Dowager.
Fang He clutched her head, feigning weakness as she sat up, her movements slow and deliberate.
A flicker of confusion crossed her face, followed by a timid glance as she noticed Concubine Gui and the others standing in the hall.
Her expression morphed into one of delicate apprehension.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she murmured, her voice frail.
“It’s my own weakness that’s to blame. Concubine Xi didn’t strike me…”
Concubine Xi’s eyes brimmed with tears, on the verge of spilling over.
She had braced herself to bear the weight of this accusation, convinced the blame would stick.
Yet, to her astonishment, it was Fang He—her least favorite person—who had cleared her name.
Suspicion gnawed at her.
Why would Concubine Zhao be so kind?
“It’s my fault for being so timid,” Fang He continued, her voice trembling as she shrank back against the bed’s drapery, her pallor as pale as the powder dusted across her cheeks, evoking the delicate hue of a white lotus.
“When I saw Concubine Xi raise her hand, in my daze, it was as if a snarling ghost loomed before me…”
The room fell silent, the air thick with disbelief.
A ghost in front of the Great Buddha Hall?
That was far more scandalous than a mere slap!
A faint smile glimmered in Concubine Yi’s eyes.
Fang He’s knack for stirring trouble was, it seemed, on par with Concubines Xi and Duan.
Before Concubine Xi could protest, Fang He let out a soft, plaintive whimper.
“I panicked and dodged too quickly, lost my bearings, and somehow fainted. To think I’ve troubled Your Majesty—I deserve punishment!”
Concubine Xi nearly choked, her breath catching as if she might faint herself.
Suddenly, admitting to the slap seemed preferable to this spiraling narrative that painted her in an ever-darker light.
She dropped to her knees.
“Your Majesty, it was my fault. Concubine Zhao’s careless words provoked me, and in my anger, I lost my senses. I beg Your Majesty’s punishment!”
The Empress Dowager listened in silence, her expression unreadable as the two women played out their drama.
Only when Concubine Xi finished her defense did she offer a gentle nod, a smile tugging at her lips.
“I understand,” she said, her tone deceptively mild.
“Concubine Xi, having tasted the sting of a slap before, must have found it hard to let go. In a moment of impulse, it’s only natural to want to share the experience.”
Wuyunzhu, tasked with translating, suppressed a twitch at the corner of her mouth.
Her mistress’s words carried an edge of mischief, not unlike Concubine Zhao’s own irreverence.
But when the Empress Dowager’s gaze flicked toward her, Wuyunzhu maintained a stoic facade and continued translating.
“My mistress says,” she intoned, “since Concubine Xi cannot endure the solitude of the Great Buddha Hall, forcing her to pray is futile. Henceforth, she shall remain in Yuanjian Hall.”
Concubine Xi’s face drained of color, her tears spilling freely now.
Though the Empress Dowager’s tone was calm, to accept these words was far worse than a slap—it was tantamount to admitting disloyalty to the ancestors!
She threw herself into a deep kowtow.
“It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have spoken recklessly in the Buddha Hall or used the opportunity to trouble Concubine Zhao. From now on, I’ll pray for the ancestors with utmost sincerity. Please, Your Majesty, forgive me just this once—I’ll never dare again!”
The Empress Dowager’s lips curved faintly.
She could afford to be less courteous with those serving before the emperor, knowing his filial piety would overlook such details.
But with the consorts of the harem, even she, the Empress Dowager, couldn’t casually disgrace them without just cause.
Their maternal families, after all, could stir trouble for the emperor.
So, she relented, her voice cool but measured.
“If Concubine Xi is truly sincere, I won’t stand in the way of your devotion.”
“However, your antics today have disturbed the sanctity of the Buddha Hall, and your spirits are tainted with discord. For now, you’ll observe a vegetarian diet in Yuanjian Hall for a few days to calm your hearts before resuming your prayers.”
Her gaze swept over Concubine Gui and the others.
“The same goes for you all. The Grand Empress Dowager doesn’t lack for your meager shows of piety. Serve the emperor well—that’s worth more than anything.”
“If you truly wish to honor her, behave yourselves and avoid actions that disturb the divine.”
At this, no one—not even Concubine Xi—dared dwell on the Empress Dowager’s blatant favoritism toward Concubine Zhao.
They knelt in unison, their voices echoing in agreement.
In a realm ruled by filial piety, the stain of unfiliality could ruin not only a consort but her entire family’s prospects.
No noble household would marry a daughter from such a tainted lineage.
As Concubine Xi was helped out, her limbs trembling, she barely registered Concubine Gui’s impatient reprimands.
Her mind was adrift, lost in a fog of regret.
Why had she ever crossed Concubine Zhao?
She hadn’t gained a shred of the emperor’s favor, only a heap of trouble.
What was it all for?
From now on, she vowed, she’d steer clear of that troublesome woman at all costs.
Once the consorts departed, Fang He sprang from the bed with surprising agility, kneeling before the Empress Dowager.
She sheepishly wiped the powder from her face, her expression one of contrite obedience.
“I know I was wrong,” she admitted softly.
“Concubine Xi mocked my fall from favor for days, her words growing ever harsher. If I kept enduring it, they’d only push further.”
She stole a cautious glance at the Empress Dowager and continued:
“So… I deliberately provoked her, hoping to use Your Majesty’s authority to put her in her place. I didn’t mean to worry you. Please, punish me as you see fit.”
The Empress Dowager chuckled, amused by Fang He’s swift confession.
She’d already heard Fang He hadn’t been struck and had come to lend her support, suspecting it was all a calculated act.
But she hadn’t expected the girl to own up so readily.
Pulling Fang He to her feet, she smiled.
“I used to think you lacked Wulinzhu’s spirit, but now I see you’re the most like her. Wulinzhu was bold, always adept at turning the tables, sometimes even conspiring with me to deal with those who spread malicious gossip.”
In her eyes, Fang He had been too cautious, too restrained for a girl her age—save for that drunken escapade in Qianqing Palace.
With a teasing glance at Wuyunzhu, she continued through her translator, “I couldn’t always protect your great-grandmother, but now, no matter what the emperor thinks, I’m happy to let you borrow my influence.”
“Just don’t turn the palace upside down, or even I won’t be able to shield you.”
Fang He paused, her mind racing.
‘Would crossing a bonded servant clan count as turning the palace upside down?’
The Empress Dowager, mistaking her silence for gratitude, patted her hand with a smile.
“I’ve already said you’re to stay at Ruijing Pavilion for a few days. Skip the Buddha Hall for now.”
“Your aunt doesn’t care for those rituals. Spend your time cheering her up—that’s worth more than any sutra.”
Fang He hesitated, her expression troubled.
“May I visit to pay my respects daily after the prayers are done?”
“I can rely on Your Majesty’s favor to put others in their place, but if I use it to stay at Ruijing Pavilion, it would defy the emperor’s will. That would be slapping his face. I’ve already offended His Majesty once—I dare not trouble him further.”
The Empress Dowager froze, then sighed, “You’re right.”
“The palace isn’t as free as the world outside. Always remember, he is first the emperor, then your husband. Don’t be foolish enough to bare your heart too readily.”
Fang He knew the Empress Dowager assumed her rift with the emperor stemmed from jealousy, especially since Kangxi had left Yunya Pavilion with a dark expression after visiting Wanfangzhai Hall —a fact no one had kept secret.
But she only nodded, accepting the Empress Dowager’s kindness with a radiant smile.
“I understand. It won’t happen again.”
‘And so,’ she resolved, ‘I’ll never let Concubine De off.’
If Concubine De wanted her life, Fang He would climb over her to rise higher, never again caught in such a precarious position.
***
By the time Kangxi received word that Fang He had remained at Yunya Pavilion instead of moving to Ruijing Pavilion, it was already time for the evening meal.
But he had no appetite for the news or the food, dismissing the meal after a few bites.
Reclining on a cushioned couch, his expression aloof, he listened as Zhao Chang delivered his report.
“Rumors of the four great bonded servant clans have long circulated outside the palace, even inspiring folk songs. Thanks to Concubine De, the Uya clan leads the four, with many bonded servants in the Accounting, Qingfeng, and Construction Divisions following their lead.”
“The Liujia clan, originally from the Guangchu and Qingfeng Divisions, once served the Dong E clan but were pushed out of the palace. Through ties with the Majia clan, they’ve become key figures in the Imperial Hospital’s three treasuries and Guangchu’s six treasuries.”
“The Majia clan, who followed the dragon, hail from the Yushi, Shangsi, and Wubei Divisions. But with the rise of the Hesheli and Niohuru clans under the regents, they turned outward, managing the Ritual and Yushi Divisions, selecting entertainers and eunuchs for the palace.”
Zhao Chang left the Caojia clan unmentioned.
Like the Tong clan, they were raised by the emperor’s hand, their base in Jiangnan, maintaining amicable ties with the capital’s clans but rarely meddling in their affairs.
“As per Your Majesty’s orders,” Zhao Chang continued, “I’ve investigated all palace servants and eunuchs tied to the Uya, Liujia, and Majia clans since your ascension…”
He paused, his voice dropping, “Of the palace servants—excluding commoners, orphans, and those of merit—six or seven out of ten have ties to these three clans. Even Xinzheku is no exception.”
“As for eunuchs, beyond those from the previous dynasty or self-castrated individuals who sought out the Inner Court, one-third were selected by these clans. Originally, each clan had its own schemes, with no united front.”
“But since the eighteenth year, when Concubine De was named a noble and later promoted to concubine, the Uya clan quietly took the lead.”
“From the twentieth year, over half the palace servants and eunuchs facilitating Yonghe Palace’s interests belong to these clans.”
Kangxi’s eyes half-closed, his expression unreadable, his voice a low murmur.
“And beyond Yonghe Palace?”
Zhao Chang’s voice grew softer still.
“Aside from Yuching Palace, Cining Palace, Shoukang Palace, and a few unoccupied halls, every other palace has their influence. Cining and Shoukang Palaces are staffed mostly by northern Mongol servants, and neither Su Mo’er nor Wuyunzhu are easily trifled with—the Inner Court wouldn’t dare meddle there.”
“Yuching Palace once had such influences, but after several purges, they stopped sending people there, though their numbers in sweeping and laundry duties exceed other palaces. I even uncovered…”
Zhao Chang took a deep breath, his voice trembling.
“The conflict between the Crown Prince and the Eldest Prince, even the horse-falling incident, bears their mark. The eunuch who incited the Crown Prince was sent by the Uya clan to the Majia household, and the Princes’ quarters…”
Kangxi let out a soft, chilling laugh, cutting Zhao Chang off.
The eunuch pressed his forehead to the floor, too terrified to continue.
Kangxi paid no mind to Zhao Chang’s fear, closing his phoenix-like eyes, brimming with suppressed fury.
The rage and shock roiled within him like a tempest.
So, the bonded servants’ schemes had not only taken root throughout the palace but even dared to manipulate the rift between Yinreng and Yinti—perhaps not just them.
Their ambitions were clear without deep thought.
Having served as slaves for so long, with wealth and glory in their grasp, they no longer wished to remain subservient.
The Uya clan, blessed with imperial favor and two princes, with the potential for more, dreamed of a bonded servant prince replacing Yinreng.
If that happened, who would be master and who slave would become uncertain.
Not just the Uyaa clan—Concubines Duan, Tongjia , and Xi’s maternal families were all bonded servants.
Beneath them were several nobles and constant attendants, distant kin of Concubines De and Rong, also from bonded servant stock.
They’d placed a heavy bet on the Uya clan, but none of their pieces were wasted.
Kangxi, far from idle, had already discovered their pawns in the palaces of Concubines Tong and Duan.
What a masterful game.
Even he, a skilled chess player, had to admire their cunning.
If he’d uncovered this later, when their influence was too entrenched to uproot, even a bloodbath in the Forbidden City might not suffice—someone would still need to serve.
Given the slightest chance, they’d rise from the ashes.
His face cold, Kangxi waved Zhao Chang on to continue the investigation.
Even with the shocking revelations, he sensed this was not the full extent of their schemes.
As the hall emptied and the hour for locking the gates neared, he rasped to Liang Jiugong, “Summon Concubine Zhao to my presence.”
Liang Jiugong hesitated.
“Your Majesty, if Concubine Zhao has already retired…”
Kangxi’s icy glance silenced him, sending a shiver through the eunuch.
Without another word, Liang Jiugong bowed and hurried to Yunya Pavilion, wiping cold sweat from his brow.
The emperor had indulged that woman for too long, enough that Liang Jiugong had nearly forgotten—no consort, no matter how ill, could refuse an imperial summons.
As he rushed off, he couldn’t help but think: tonight, the emperor’s clarity reminded him of that fateful year, the twenty-third.
As Liang Jiugong approached Yunya Pavilion, his heart churned with speculation.
Could it be that Concubine Zhao was truly plummeting from her lofty perch into the mire?
Yet, no matter how many guesses swirled in his mind, he dared not let a hint of them show.
His demeanor was the epitome of deference as he addressed Cui Wei, explaining his purpose with utmost respect.
“This servant has prepared a sedan for Concubine Zhao. If her Ladyship has already retired, I’ll wait here…”
Before he could finish, Fang He emerged from the hall, impeccably dressed, her composure unruffled.
“No need to trouble yourself further, Liang Jiugong,” she said lightly.
“Let’s go.”
Liang Jiugong blinked, caught off guard.
‘No ‘Grandfather’ this time? Has this little ancestor finally learned to read the room?’
A strange sense of satisfaction warmed his chest, and his smile grew a touch more genuine.
“Concubine Zhao, this way, please.”