When Fang He arrived at Chunhui Hall, Kangxi was at his desk, brush in hand, painting.
The image depicted a tiger descending a mountain, its expression languid and unguarded, yet in the distance, a shadowy figure in black drew a bow, arrow poised, exuding menace.
The stark contrast between the tiger’s ease and the lurking threat was palpable, even to Fang He, who knew little of art.
She sensed the painter’s suppressed anger, laced with bitter self-mockery.
She curtsied calmly.
“Your concubine wishes Your Majesty good health.”
“Rise,” Kangxi said, his tone detached as he finished the painting’s final stroke.
He dismissed the attendants with a wave, then beckoned Fang He closer.
“Come, tell me what you think of this painting.”
Fang He approached slowly, feigning careful study.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I’ve always been coarse and know little of painting. I can’t discern its merits.”
Kangxi let out a soft, mocking laugh, settling onto a nearby luohan couch.
“Such humility doesn’t suit you, you little rogue. To think, my harem is filled with cunning strategists like you, making me look dumber than a caged beast.”
Fang He bit back a retort.
‘So, he called me here just to vent his self-awareness?’
If she praised his wisdom now, would this man strangle her?
But to argue… she was already out of favor.
Now wasn’t the time for boldness.
She lowered her gaze, opting for silence.
“I summoned you to ask a few questions,” Kangxi continued, unfazed by her reticence, his voice still cool.
“Even if Concubine De knew of your frail health, how could you be so certain she’d target you? After all, beyond the favor you don’t seem to care for, I’ve given you nothing else. You have no heirs. I can’t fathom why she’d single you out.”
He fixed his gaze on her.
“Tonight, I want the truth.” After tonight, he added silently, he might not care to hear it.
Fang He weighed her words, then spoke softly.
“Perhaps it’s a woman’s intuition. Since my return to the palace, I’ve been targeted by the other consorts, even the Imperial Noble Consort. Their jealousy stems from something tangible—they care for Your Majesty’s regard.”
“Even I, despite warning myself not to let jealousy twist me into something unrecognizable, losing my only anchor, have asked Cui Wei to shield me from news of you visiting other palaces. I’ve been unsettled by word of your favor toward others…”
She paused, a wry smile touching her lips.
“Yet someone has been kinder to me than even my own aunt, reminding me to curry your favor, intervening on my behalf, even advising me on how to survive in the palace. Isn’t that peculiar?”
“As Your Majesty said, I’m a rogue, hardly likable. Yet Concubine De is unfailingly kind. To me, there are only two possibilities. Either she cares nothing for Your Majesty, and her gentle, understanding demeanor masks ulterior motives.”
She added: “Or she’s lulling me into complacency, cutting me slowly until I’m dead without ever knowing who struck the blow.”
She tilted her head, offering Kangxi a faint smile.
“Which do you think it is?”
Kangxi stared at her, silent for a long moment.
Her words carried a honeyed edge, but whether it was her usual flattery or the jarring realization that this reckless woman was far sharper than he’d thought, he felt no joy—only suspicion, tinged with exasperation.
“I’m your only anchor?” His voice was icy.
“Or am I deluded, and as Liang Jiugong reported from Yunya Pavilion, the Empress Dowager is your true reliance?”
Fang He sighed inwardly.
‘Even roosters grow up and get harder to fool.’
She met his gaze, her eyes catching the lamplight, sparkling like stars, brimming with sincerity.
“If I were willing to lie to you, my days would be far easier, wouldn’t they?”
Kangxi flinched, as if dazzled by her luminous gaze, and looked away.
‘This rogue and her silver tongue—when has she ever held back?’
Fang He didn’t press him, nor did she play coy.
She curtsied again, her voice soft.
“If Your Majesty has no further questions, may I take my leave?”
“It’s past curfew. Where would you go?” Kangxi frowned.
Without lifting her head, she murmured, “I humbly hope Your Majesty… still has the side chamber prepared for me.”
His temper flared, though its source was unclear.
Even now, she refused to serve him.
Did she think a few sweet words would have him wagging his tail like a lapdog?
Ridiculous!
But then, two faint “plinks” broke the silence.
He glanced down and saw two droplets on the floor tiles where she knelt.
Kangxi rose instinctively, but Fang He, head bowed, choked out, “Your Majesty! I’m unfit to attend you in this state. Please, allow me to withdraw!”
His heart jolted.
Ignoring her protest, he pulled her up and saw her red-rimmed eyes, tears streaming down her face.
“You—” A pang, sharp but not deep, pricked his chest, leaving him restless.
“With the Empress Dowager’s support, you think I can’t even ask you a few questions?”
Fang He shook her head, stifling a sob.
“I’ve lost my composure. Punish me as you will, Your Majesty, but please let me go…”
“Enough!” Kangxi’s patience snapped.
He gripped her waist, pinning her in place, his jaw tight with a mix of heartache and irritation.
Her tears seemed endless, her lips trembling as she bit back her sobs, making it impossible for him to vent his frustration.
He took a deep breath, his tone softening.
“Are you trying to suffocate yourself?”
Before he could finish, Fang He buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking violently.
Her sobs were silent, as if she’d finally learned the palace’s rule against loud outbursts, even in grief.
Kangxi cursed under his breath, lifting her face.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips bloodied from her own bites.
Alarmed, he pried at her mouth.
“Fang He! If you want to cry, cry! No one’s stopping you!”
She bit down on his ring, letting out a wail as she sobbed freely.
‘Damn it, nobody warned me mint extract would sting this much!’
She’d avoided pungent onions or ginger, opting for mint extract, scentless enough to pass as insect repellent.
But a dab in her eyes burned worse than chili.
‘Next time, I’ll use less,’ she thought, whimpering.
Her pitiful, aggrieved cries doused Kangxi’s anger entirely.
He hadn’t distanced her for the reasons she imagined.
For the first time, he realized the woman he’d cherished was a venomous snake coiled at his side, a blade dangling above his bed.
An emperor’s wariness made him doubt Fang He, who’d uncovered Concubine De’s schemes.
She was far cleverer than he’d imagined, rivaling his court ministers.
Her past antics—dancing on his boundaries—now seemed like playful jests.
The palace wasn’t filled with masters but with groveling slaves, indistinguishable from ants.
Without her, it might have taken years to uncover the Inner Court’s rot.
She was more calculating than Concubine De, and his affection for her far surpassed what he felt for Uya—yet even now, he couldn’t let go.
That was why he feared favoring her, even tried to force himself to abandon her.
But seeing her subdued, her tears lacking their former audacity, his heart felt hollowed out, urging him to hold her close and comfort her.
Cradling the trembling figure in his arms, her stifled sobs breaking his resolve, Kangxi’s resentment and frustration were extinguished by her tears.
He pressed her tightly against him, his hand lingering on her neck.
“I was wrong,” he murmured.
“I shouldn’t have let anyone bully you…”
Fang He looked up, her voice hoarse with sobs.
“It’s you who bullied me. You ignored me, scared me. You told me to trust you, and I did—did I trust the wrong person?”
Kangxi fell silent, stunned.
He lifted her onto the luohan couch, coaxing her to drink water.
“I won’t do it again. I owe you an apology. I’ll have Liang Jiugong take you to my private treasury—pick whatever you like. No more crying, alright?”
Fang He wanted to agree—his treasury was a treasure trove; how could she leave empty-handed?
But her eyes still stung, and the tears wouldn’t stop.
She clung to his waist, sobbing, “You scared me… I’ll never trust you again!”
Kangxi leaned down, his kisses gentle yet urgent, catching her tears with his lips, hoping to make her forget his earlier harshness.
‘Her tears… they’re not salty. They’re cool, almost minty?’
He paused, and Fang He’s heart skipped, sensing his suspicion.
She pushed at him.
“What did you find out? Why summon me so suddenly, interrogating me so coldly? My heart’s frozen!”
‘If my tears are cool, it’s because my heart’s chilled through,’ she thought defiantly.
Kangxi sighed, pinching her nose.
“You’ve stumbled onto the truth. The Inner Court’s parasites… ha, they make every master in this palace look like a fool!”
Having confirmed the Inner Court’s corruption, Kangxi had summoned Fuquan to Changchung Garden, tasking him with leading the Nine Gates Infantry to surround the garden, oversee the Inner Court’s procurement and personnel, and detain all its officials for an audit.
Meanwhile, Changning, leading the Imperial Guard, sealed all city gates, barring any court or Inner Court officials and their families from entering or leaving the capital.
Once Fuquan finished auditing the Inner Court’s accounts, Kangxi would settle the score with each culprit, one by one.
The ledgers Fuquan had already submitted were damning: meat prices in the palace were over a hundred times higher than in the markets, and even vegetables cost as much as ginseng outside the walls.
Worse still were the medicinal supplies in the Imperial Hospital—shoddy substitutes, swapped materials, and inflated prices weren’t even the gravest offenses.
Some officials had the audacity to claim ginseng was used to feed chickens, inflating the price of a single egg from a mere copper coin to a tael of silver.
Fang He’s jaw dropped.
A tael of silver—roughly a hundred and fifty in her modern reckoning—for an egg?
Even “fool” was too kind a term for Kangxi.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“Fortunately, we caught it early. I abolished the Thirteen Offices after my ascension and restored the Inner Court. A few more years, and these vermin might have emptied the treasury entirely!”
He hadn’t thought much of it before—after all, no one dared skimp on provisions for Cining Palace, Shoukang Palace, or Qianqing Palace.
But the annual dining expenses for these three palaces alone amounted to hundreds of thousands of taels, most of which had lined the pockets of these parasites.
The thought made Kangxi itch to fry them alive.
Fang He lowered her gaze, silent.
She recalled a snippet of unofficial history: by the late Qing, eggs were reportedly priced at ten taels each.
‘Forget emptying the treasury—they’d collapsed the entire dynasty!’
As her breathing steadied, Kangxi cradled the drowsy, fox-like woman in his arms, his thoughts turning to Concubine De.
“She’s long been praised for her kindness in the palace. I even heard palace servants sing of her gentleness… Only now do I see it was all bought with silver.”
Zhao Chang, following Fuquan’s ledgers, had uncovered that the Uya clan sent Concubine De a hundred thousand taels annually to bribe palace servants and eunuchs to do her bidding.
Without such wealth, her reputation wouldn’t gleam so spotlessly.
The realization sickened Kangxi—not just her methods, but the fact that his silver was used to deceive him.
He, who scrimped on Qianqing Palace repairs, while former Household Minister Nalan Mingzhu and Zhang Yushu wept poverty before him, had been outdone by a harem spendthrift acting on Nalan’s behalf.
His voice was icy when he said, “I’ve already sealed Wanfangzhai on the pretext of Concubine De’s ill health. In a few days, once the Inner Court’s crimes are fully evidenced, I’ll deal with her personally.”
His expression shifted, a flicker of complexity crossing his face.
He’d summoned Fang He tonight intending to reassure her if she spoke honestly.
But her detached, almost outsider-like responses had stoked his frustration.
Yet, seeing her play the pitiful card, his resolve softened, and now, before recovering his silver, he was handing it back to this rogue…
“May I be present when Your Majesty deals with Concubine De?” Fang He’s hoarse voice cut through his thoughts, her small hand tugging his sleeve gently.
After today’s events, she’d realized that subtle manipulation yielded far better results than open defiance.
Kangxi pushed her upright.
“Wash that filthy face before you speak to me!”
He wouldn’t tolerate a grubby kitten playing pitiful.
As Fang He obediently agreed and moved to call for someone, Kangxi suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her back into his embrace.
He gazed deeply at her smudged face.
“Zhao… don’t disappoint me.”
Fang He met his eyes, her own still glistening, radiant with sincerity.
“For my entire life, I’ll do my utmost not to fail Your Majesty’s expectations.”
As long as he didn’t betray her first, every word she spoke came from the heart.
Though it wasn’t the promise he’d hoped for, her words struck deeper than any vow.
Kangxi smiled faintly, nudging her forehead and comanded, “Go.”
***
By late July, Fuquan, alongside officials from the Ministries of Revenue and Rites, swiftly audited the Inner Court’s accounts.
The chief steward, Hailasun, and deputy stewards Wanyan Tuba and Majia E’erduo were stripped of their posts and investigated.
Deputy steward Galu was imprisoned and died of old ailments in jail.
Out of consideration for his role in raising the Eldest Prince, Yinzhi, Kangxi spared his family, confiscating only their property. Â
All Inner Court divisions, save the Punishment and Palace Service Divisions, were purged.
The execution platform at the Meridian Gate ran red, sending ripples of unrest through the capital.
In Changchung Garden, despite the consorts’ daily prayers and scripture-copying at the Great Buddha Hall per imperial decree, the news could no longer be contained.
Many consorts from bonded servant backgrounds fell ill, and cries echoed through the palaces.
Wanfangzhai hall alone remained eerily silent, as if untouched by the storm.
In early August, the imperial entourage, accompanying the Grand Empress Dowager and Empress Dowager, returned to the palace.
The next day, Concubine De, still confined to Yonghe Palace’s main hall by Wu Momo, was personally summoned by Li Dequan to the emperor’s presence.
Before Kangxi, she wore her usual gentle smile.
“I wish Your Majesty good health,” she said, her eyes reddening as a single tear traced her cheek.
“If I’ve erred, I beg Your Majesty to preserve your health and punish me as you see fit… I only miss Wuxiha, who grew up by my side, and timid Galudai. Please, let me see them.”
Behind the newly installed screen in Hongde Hall, Fang He raised an eyebrow.
‘Well played, Concubine De.’ Her first move was to frame everything as maternal devotion.
Propping her chin, Fang He cast a sidelong glance at Kangxi, his face impassive.
‘Let’s see how patient His Majesty is with this performance.’