A sudden craving for chocolate hit her, sharp and absurd.
Did they even have cocoa powder in this era?
Pouting, she nuzzled the Empress Dowager’s shoulder, about to ask if she’d ever heard of such a thing, when a familiar eunuch stumbled in, his face pale with panic.
It was one of Physician Yu Quangui’s attendants from Cining Palace.
He collapsed to his knees before the Empress Dowager, voice trembling.
“Your Highness, disaster! The Grand Empress has fainted and won’t wake. The imperial physicians are at a loss. Please, come quickly!”
The Empress Dowager shot to her feet, her vision swimming with dark spots.
She swayed, steadied only by Wuyunzhu’s quick grip.
Instinct drove her toward the door, her voice shaking as she called back to Fang He, “Don’t worry. Stay here in Yanxi Palace. I’ll go and see.”
Wuyunzhu didn’t have time to translate, both mistress and servant consumed by urgency.
But Fang He understood.
She rose slowly, her eyes flickering with a storm of conflict.
If the Grand Empress passed now, every woman in the palace—save those in confinement—would be required to kneel and mourn, day after day, even someone as pregnant as she was.
In the bitter cold of the first month, a month of such vigils could jeopardize her unborn child.
Worse still, she’d once vowed, under the guise of sacrificing her phoenix fate, to pray for the Grand Empress’s long life.
If the Grand Empress died so soon after the Uya affair, those words could be twisted against her, weaponized by her enemies.
With her strained bond with the Emperor, keeping her child by her side might become a fleeting dream.
No—there was still a chance.
The Grand Empress could not die now.
Seizing Fule’s hand, Fang He urged Chunlai, “Quick, help me follow the Empress Dowager!”
Fule and Chunlai froze, startled.
“Mistress?”
“No time for questions! This is an order—move!” Fang He’s voice was sharp, her face set with resolve.
The two maids, more loyal to her than Cui Wei, didn’t hesitate.
Supporting her firmly, they hurried toward the palace gates.
The Empress Dowager, seeing Fang He chase after her, was stunned.
“What are you doing? Go back!”
Fang He, ignoring protocol, clambered onto the Empress Dowager’s phoenix palanquin and said, “Your Highness, I can’t sit still when the Grand Empress is in danger. No time to explain—lift the sedan! I’ll tell you on the way.”
Wuyunzhu, sensing the urgency, ordered the bearers to race to Cining Palace.
As the palanquin jolted forward, Fang He explained Fule’s skills.
“Her medical knowledge may not rival the imperial physicians, but she excels in detoxification and wellness. She might help. The Grand Empress is surely blessed by heaven. I want to be there with you. You’re the backbone of the palace, and with this child—my imperial sword—no one would dare cause trouble.”
The Empress Dowager nearly laughed despite her worry.
Did this girl think Cining Palace was some lawless den?
But as they entered, her eyes caught a strange palace maid, bound and kneeling under the corridor.
She glanced at Fang He.
Had the girl’s words summoned trouble?
Inside, Consort Gui, Consort Hui, Consort Rong, and others already waited outside the Grand Empress’s chamber.
They froze at the sight of Fang He, heavily pregnant, entering with the Empress Dowager.
But urgency overrode curiosity, and they hurriedly paid their respects.
The Empress Dowager waved them off, her voice tight.
“How is the Grand Empress? Why did she faint?”
Yu Quangui, eyes red, explained, “A maid from Yonghe Palace came, claiming urgent news for the Grand Empress alone. Only Nanny Liu was in the room. Whatever was said, Her Highness flew into a rage and collapsed. Nanny Liu won’t say a word, and Nanny Su is with her now.”
Fang He exhaled slightly.
Not a diabetic shock, then—likely a spike in blood pressure from anger.
There was hope.
She gripped the Empress Dowager’s arm, urging her inside.
But Consort Hui’s voice cut through.
“Wait—Isn’t Consort Zhao under confinement? Why is she here?”
Consort Gui, ever polite, added, “Your Highness, let Nanny Wu attend inside. You look unwell yourself. You and Consort Zhao should wait here. If something happens, it’ll be hard to explain.”
As more consorts arrived, their eyes lingered on Fang He’s belly, now nearing six months.
Envy flickered in some gazes, and one muttered, “She’s never shown such filial piety before. Now she’s here to stir trouble? No manners!”
Before the murmurs could swell, shouts erupted from the chamber.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!” Nanny Su and Nanny Liu’s voices rang out.
“Quick, summon the physicians! Call for Physician Lu—she’s having a seizure!”
Fang He’s heart raced.
A seizure from high blood pressure—if untreated, it could be fatal.
She released the Empress Dowager’s arm, pulling Fule toward the chamber.
Consort Gui and the Noble Consort blocked her path and asked, “What are you doing, Consort Zhao?”
An imperial physician frowned.
“Your Highness, she’s causing chaos at a time like this. Won’t you intervene?”
Consort Hui called for guards and ordered, “Someone, take Consort Zhao—”
Yu Quangui and a young eunuch hesitated, blocking Fang He’s way, her head pounding with frustration.
As the chamber’s cries grew louder, her face hardened, and she snapped, “Who can guarantee the Grand Empress will be fine? Step forward, or shut your mouths!”
Turning to Chunlai, she ordered, “Follow me. Anyone who dares block us, knock them out. I’ll take the blame!”
To the Empress Dowager, she said firmly, “Your Highness, I have a fifty percent chance of saving her. We can’t delay!”
The Empress Dowager steadied herself, her voice iron.
“Go. I’ll see who dares stop you. I’ll answer for any consequences.”
Chunlai didn’t hesitate, kicking aside Yu Quangui and the physician.
With Fule, she supported Fang He as they rushed into the chamber.
As expected, the Grand Empress was convulsing, vomiting.
Fang He directed Chunlai to push aside the muttering physicians, who hovered uselessly over the Grand Empress’s pulse.
With effort, she climbed onto the bed.
“Consort Zhao—” Nanny Liu’s eyes nearly popped out.
Nanny Su yanked her arm, glaring her into silence.
She’d heard the commotion outside and trusted Fang He wouldn’t act without confidence.
Fang He instructed Chunlai to position the Grand Empress flat, head tilted to one side, and swiftly loosened her dragon robe and collar.
“Fule! Needle the Xiaguan point to open her mouth!”
Fule produced her gold needles, working quickly.
Fang He cleared the vomit, urgently asking, “Which points clear the mind and ease the meridians? Needle them now!”
Fule didn’t pause to explain, her hands a blur as she inserted needles into the Fengchi, Quchi, and Hegu points.
Physician Lu, having quelled the physicians’ panic and disdain for a woman’s interference, watched Fule’s movements closely.
“Calm the liver, subdue yang, soothe the spirit…” he muttered, realization dawning.
“Of course! Her diabetes is severe, but this is liver yang hyperactivity!”
Fang He placed a chopstick in the Grand Empress’s mouth to prevent her from biting herself.
Exhausted, she slid off the bed, supported by Nanny Su, Nanny Liu, Chunlai, and the newly arrived Wuyunzhu, as they guarded the Grand Empress’s side.
Fule, ever mindful of her mistress, explained to the physicians that her acupuncture targeted the liver wind.
She stepped aside, yielding to a more experienced imperial physician who continued to monitor the Grand Empress’s pulse.
Once her condition stabilized, they prepared to needle points at the back of her head.
Physician Lu prescribed a new decoction, brewing it in the chamber.
The medicinal mist, inhaled by the Grand Empress, further soothed the liver wind.
There was no more for Fang He to do.
She didn’t linger to disturb the physicians’ work, allowing Fule and Chunlai to support her as she left the chamber.
“How is she?” the Empress Dowager asked, stumbling forward, her face etched with worry.
Her own liver wind condition kept her outside, fearing she’d burden the physicians if she saw her aunt’s state.
Fang He forced a weary smile, her voice hoarse.
“The physicians are needling her now. If the Grand Empress wakes, she should be out of danger.”
The Noble Consort and Consort Gui exhaled in relief.
It was the New Year, and their own health was frail—a month of kneeling in mourning would have been unbearable.
Though they regarded Fang He with heightened wariness, they couldn’t help but admire her courage and skill.
Among the consorts present, even those with near-certain confidence wouldn’t have dared act, too afraid of bearing the consequences of failure.
Yet Fang He, heavy with child, had charged in without hesitation.
Perhaps, they mused, she relied on the child in her womb as her shield.
Consort Hui and Consort Rong, still smarting from Fang He’s sharp rebuke, shot her cold glances.
But they knew the weight of the moment and held their tongues, their expressions tight with restraint.
***
Outside the city, near the suburban military camp, the news reached Kangxi.
His face drained of color, and heedless of the biting wind, he seized a guard’s horse and galloped back to the palace.
Yinreng and Yinti followed suit, the father and sons racing through the capital.
They didn’t pause at the Wu Gate, urging their horses straight into the palace grounds.
At Cining Palace’s entrance, Kangxi, the Crown Prince, and Eldest Prince abandoned their mounts and ran inside.
Kangxi nearly tripped on the threshold, steadied only by Yinreng and Yinti’s quick hands.
Brushing off his disarray, he staggered forward, bursting into the hall.
“How is my Imperial Grandmother?”
The court knelt in greeting.
Fang He began to lower herself, but Kangxi’s hand shot out, gently steadying her, sparing her the effort.
Exhausted, she exhaled in quiet relief.
The Empress Dowager explained, “It was liver yang hyperactivity that caused her collapse. Thanks to Consort Zhao’s quick action, she eased the crisis.”
Kangxi’s grip on Fang He’s arm tightened briefly, his gaze piercing as he held hers.
“Send more braziers in,” he ordered, voice low.
“Don’t let the Empress Dowager or Consort Zhao catch a chill.”
Then, releasing her, he strode into the chamber.
The others exchanged glances.
Even the densest among them understood: Consort Zhao had not only saved the Grand Empress but had secured a place in the Emperor’s heart unmatched by any other.
Consort Rong drew a deep breath, her fingers clutching her prayer beads so tightly they nearly snapped.
Then, as if exhaling all her resentment and jealousy, her grip loosened, her eyes clearing into a still, resigned calm, like a pond after a storm.
But Consort Hui’s gaze lingered on Fang He’s belly, growing colder.
The Emperor’s attention was fixed on Consort Zhao.
If she bore a princess, all might be well.
But an imperial son?
The Crown Prince’s position was secure, but her son Yinti’s standing in Kangxi’s heart might falter.
In the heavy silence, deeper currents of thought stirred.
Consorts Duan and Xi, along with several noble ladies, stared at Fang He’s belly with barely veiled envy, their eyes sharp enough to cut.
Fang He, drained and aching, felt her stomach twinge faintly but paid their glares no mind.
Moments later, a physician’s voice rang out from the chamber.
“The Grand Empress is awake! She’s awake!”
Fang He, who had rushed to the palace and clambered onto the bed amid the cloying scent of rouge, felt her vision darken.
The physician’s words barely registered before she collapsed, her strength spent.
“Mistress!” Chunlai cried, catching her limp form.
Fule, pale with worry, checked Fang He’s pulse.
Kangxi emerged at the commotion, sweeping Fang He into his arms with a low shout.
“Physicians!”
A physician hurried forward, joining Fule to check her other wrist.
After a moment, Fule’s expression eased, and the physician spoke.
“Your Majesty, Consort Zhao was overcome with tension and exhaustion, causing slight fetal distress. With rest, she’ll recover.”
Liang Jiugong and Li Dequan, who had followed, stood ready.
Kangxi, still holding Fang He, carried her toward the exit and said, “Escort Consort Zhao to Yanxi Palace’s main hall,” he commanded.
“Have Zhang Ziqin attend her until her condition stabilizes.”
Liang Jiugong hesitated for a fraction of a second before complying.
That brief pause spoke volumes: henceforth, there would be no mere Consort Zhao—only Noble Consort Zhao.
As Liang Jiugong and Li Dequan escorted her away, Consort Gui ventured cautiously, “Your Majesty, the ancestral rule limits the four consorts. Placing Consort Zhao in the main hall… is it proper?”
Kangxi’s face was a mask, his voice was cold when he said, “I am the rule.”
The hall fell silent, stunned.
Even if Consort Zhao had saved the Grand Empress, the physicians deserved much of the credit.
Was the Emperor, in defiance of ancestral tradition, elevating her to rival the revered Consort Chen of Emperor Taizu’s reign?
Even the Noble Consort and Consort Gui, who admired Fang He’s courage, frowned.
The child wasn’t even born yet.
They could tolerate her favor, but a lowborn woman of low class rising above them?
Unacceptable.
Consort Hui and Consort Rong shared the sentiment, their displeasure mirrored.
Only Consort Yi, though slightly uneasy, chose to hold her peace.
The next morning, outside Qianqing Palace, a flurry of memorials impeaching Consort Zhao piled before Kangxi, like snowdrifts in a storm.
Inside, the imperial Court the ministers spoke with fervor.
“Consort Zhao defied her confinement, an act of disobedience against Your Majesty’s edict. Even if her actions were justified, they undermine your imperial authority. Without punishment, the palace’s order will crumble.”
“Consort Zhao, a lower consort, dared to reprimand the Noble Consort, Consort Gui, Consort Hui, and Consort Rong, even ordering her maids to strike without mercy. This is insubordination and demands severe penalty.”
“With her prior lapse in Qianqing Palace, her defiance of the edict, and repeated oversteps, elevating her to consort would fail to convince the court. We beseech Your Majesty to reconsider.”
Kangxi’s expression remained impassive as he eyed the towering stack of memorials.
As the Ministers and Ministry of Rites officials grew more impassioned, he suddenly kicked over the imperial desk.
The crash echoed, papers scattering, silencing the room.
The Crown Prince and Eldest Prince, summoned to observe, nearly stumbled over each other dodging the splintered wreckage.
Too shaken to dwell on fear or embarrassment, they knelt, heads bowed, ears straining.
Kangxi’s voice was calm, almost gentle.
“So, Consort Zhao shouldn’t have cared for my Imperial Grandmother? Shouldn’t have saved her? Should I have let her face danger instead?”
The ministers chorused, “We dare not!”
“Oh, you dare plenty,” Kangxi continued, his tone still soft, eerily reminiscent of Fang He’s gentle venom.
“Corruption, negligence, factionalism—you dare all of it. But honest work? That you shirk.”
His voice took on a faint smile.
“You forgot to impeach me. I shouldn’t have protected my consort and her unborn child with a confinement order. I shouldn’t have galloped through the palace or rewarded Consort Zhao’s merit. You’re absolutely right.”
“I should be like you—beasts who punish the meritorious, trust honey-tongued traitors, and plunder the people’s wealth. I should strip your lands, and anyone who serves the Qing with distinction, I should flay them. Shall I seek your approval for that?”
In the past, Kangxi’s rebukes were thunderous, leaving officials cowed but accustomed.
This time, his quiet menace chilled even Suo’etu, who regretted his presence in the imperial study.
The boldest ministers broke into cold sweats, stammering apologies.
“You want propriety? I’ll grant it.” Kangxi’s patience was spent.
He’d spent the night attending the Grand Empress; what little energy remained was for her.
Pointing at Suo’etu, he said, “Deal with these heartless curs. I don’t want to see them in court again. Fail, and you can join Nalan Mingzhu in exile.”
Suo’etu, stunned, hadn’t even begun to strip the offenders of their ranks when three imperial edicts swept through the Forbidden City.
Consort De , guilty of deceiving the Emperor, plotting against the imperial heirs, and sowing discord, was stripped of her title, expelled from the Uya clan, erased from the imperial genealogy, and banished to a temple for purification.
The Fourth Prince Yinzhen was reassigned in the genealogy as the son of the Noble Consort.
The Fifth Princess Garudai became the daughter of Consort Jing, and the Seventh Princess Wuxiha, the daughter of Consort An.
Consort Zhao, of the Zasihu clan, was lauded for her filial piety and service in saving the Grand Empress, and for bearing imperial heirs.
She was elevated to Consort Zhao Pin, first among the four consorts, with the privileges of a Noble Consort, and granted sole residence in Yanxi Palace.
The palace reeled at the decree, shock rippling through its halls.