As soon as Liang Jiugong stepped out of the Yanxi Palace gates, he saw Kangxi strolling leisurely toward him.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of hesitation on the Emperor’s face, as if being turned away was impossible.
Heh, that’s why people call these two their ancestors—regardless of whether they’re friendly or at odds, it’s like a snapping turtle meeting a mung bean.
Ordinary folks just can’t understand.
Liang Jiugong marveled inwardly, then greeted Kangxi with a smile and a bow.
“My Lord, Consort Zhao says she’s prepared everything and is eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
Kangxi snorted quietly to himself.
He knew perfectly well what that troublesome woman was hoping for.
“I recall there’s still a Hetian jade Statue for fertility in my private treasury. Go fetch it. Can’t let your mistress’s efforts be in vain.”
Liang Jiugong grinned, “So you’re willing to send your servant running, My Lord?”
That jade Statue was flawless, a relic from the previous dynasty brought in by Shi Lang from Guangzhou Prefecture.
Its value was immense.
Kangxi wouldn’t trust anyone else with the task.
He hurried off.
Li Dequan accompanied Kangxi into Yanxi Palace.
Seeing the Emperor signal for everyone to forego formalities, they entered the hall quietly.
Li Dequan tactfully remained at the doorway to stand guard, not daring to interrupt—after all, everyone would be called in soon enough.
When Kangxi entered, Fang He was chatting with Cui Wei and Chunlai, holding up a piece of…
Well, from Kangxi’s sharp gaze, it looked like a cloth rag made of fine cotton, waving it energetically as she spoke.
“Isn’t that tribute cotton from Shanxi Prefecture? You’re using it to wipe tables?” Kangxi sounded a bit surprised.
That cotton had been gifted from his private stores—even the Imperial Noble Consort didn’t have much of it.
Cui Wei and Chunlai immediately dropped to their knees in greeting.
Kangxi casually waved them up and sat beside Fang He with a teasing smile.
“Even I couldn’t bear to use it. There’s no one in the palace more extravagant than Consort Zhao.”
Cui Wei and Chunlai nearly burst out laughing.
Just look at the way their mistress had cut the cloth—crooked and mismatched, sewn in all the wrong places.
It really did look like a rag, and not even a good one—more like something used in the servants’ quarters.
Fang He: ‘Is he blind or something!’
Thinking of the message Kangxi had sent through Liang Jiugong, she still managed a polite smile and explained crisply.
“I’m preparing to make a onesie for the baby. That way, the child won’t be so uncomfortable from being swaddled, and won’t catch a chill if left unwrapped.”
Afraid Kangxi would think she was putting the baby before the Emperor, Fang He added quickly, “My needlework isn’t very good right now. Once I get better, I’ll make undergarments and sachets for Your Majesty.”
Kangxi fell silent, staring at the messy scraps of cloth in Fang He’s hands…
‘A onesie?’
His smile stiffened for a moment.
“I can’t bear to see you work so hard. Leave tasks like this to the palace maids.”
He changed the subject directly.
“Weren’t you curious about how the Imperial Matron is recovering?”
Fang He’s eyes lit up instantly.
Even Cui Wei couldn’t help but prick up her ears, watching as her mistress’s forced smile turned into genuine warmth.
Fang He, always quick to play along, immediately furrowed her brow in concern.
“I’m terribly worried about Imperial Mother. How could there be such an inconsiderate palace maid daring to disturb her?”
“So, what exactly made Imperial Mother so angry that her liver yang rose up?”
Kangxi tapped the low table.
“You just want me to tell you everything?”
Before Fang He could react, Cui Wei, more perceptive than her mistress, quickly poured a cup of Jin Yinhua Dew and set it on the table.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make tea for the Emperor, but their mistress disliked it, and Yanxi Palace had no fresh tea at the moment…
Besides, if she went to brew tea, she might miss the most important part of the conversation.
Fang He: ‘When it comes to gossip, Cui Wei is more attentive than anyone.’
Unable to move easily with her belly, Fang He tried to be even more attentive in her own way…
She used the onesie in her hand to wipe the table in front of Kangxi, staring at him expectantly.
Kangxi didn’t care much for the taste of Jin Yinhua Dew, but seeing that Fang He drank it, he said nothing, simply waved his hand to send the others away.
There were some matters Fang He could hear, but as for the rest—better they left.
Cui Wei: ‘…Fine, I’ll just ask my mistress to tell me later.’
Once everyone had left, Fang He felt a little uneasy.
These past few months, both their moods had been turbulent, and she wasn’t used to being alone with him anymore.
Kangxi noticed Fang He’s silence and knew that what she had said when she cried before wasn’t just in a moment of anger—she truly meant it.
Without giving anything away, he spoke of Xiaozhuang’s illness.
“Thanks to you accompanying Imperial Mother to Cining Palace, the Imperial Matron’s liver yang didn’t develop into paralysis. She’s much improved, and should be able to get up in a few days.”
Fang He listened eagerly, quickly pressing her palms together.
“Amitabha, may Buddha bless her with a long life!”
She blinked her bright and watery eyes at him, silently asking—”And then?”
Kangxi suddenly chuckled, leaning across the low table to cup the back of Fang He’s neck, pressing his forehead to hers.
“Guo Guo, what else do you want to know?”
Fang He suppressed her discomfort and lowered her eyes.
“How did Imperial Mother fall ill in the first place?”
“It was a little palace maid sent by Uya, stirring up trouble and making her sick. She…”
Kangxi looked steadily at Fang He’s trembling eyelashes, but trailed off mid-sentence.
Fang He: ‘…Is this scoundrel playing with a dog or just teasing me?’
She raised her eyes to meet his and said, “If you don’t want to say it, then don’t!”
Kangxi drew out an “Oh,” letting go and sitting upright with a smile.
“Since you don’t want to hear it, I won’t say another word.”
Fang He, fuming, flung her “rag”… er, onesie at Kangxi.
“Who said I don’t want to hear? I said I’m worried about Imperial Mother!”
Kangxi laughed heartily, stood up in front of her, braced his hands on the soft couch, and bent down with a grin.
“Then Guo Guo should remember, if you want something, you have to show some sincerity, don’t you?”
Fang He ground her molars, then suddenly cupped his face and planted a loud kiss on his cheek.
“Is that sincere enough?”
She pulled him down by the neck and, with no rhyme or reason, kissed his forehead, lashes, and nose several times.
“Are these sincere enough? If not…”
Kangxi, half laughing, half exasperated, caught her wandering hands and tapped her on the forehead.
“What do you take me for?”
“A big scoundrel who loves to keep people guessing, what else.” Fang He, emboldened by her pregnancy, hummed proudly.
“You know exactly what I want to hear, but you insist on being mysterious. So, My Lord’s golden words are only good for teasing people?”
Kangxi was amused again and sat beside her, letting her lean against him so she’d be more comfortable.
“I’m just surprised to see my beloved consort at a loss for words, so I wanted to test you a bit. Why get so worked up?”
Fang He:”…….”
She had to admit, with Kangxi’s playful interruption, her previous awkwardness vanished completely.
She simply curled up at his side.
“So what really happened? Tell me, please!”
“Could it be, as the rumors say, that all of us were accidents, and only Uya is true love? Is that why you won’t… mmph!”
Kangxi silenced her with a lingering kiss, his voice husky.
“Don’t talk nonsense. Whoever spread that rumor—if I find out, I’ll send them all to the Office Of Punishment and Investigation!”
Fang He: ‘…Well, it might have been me, actually.’
Kangxi didn’t press the issue.
Now that Fang He had relaxed, he didn’t plan to keep her guessing any longer.
He’d come today precisely because he didn’t want her imagination running wild.
“That palace maid was a secret plant sent in by the descendants of Uya Ersen. Because Uya never contacted her, even with your crisscrossed diagrams, I couldn’t find her before.”
Fang He was especially curious so she asked, “If Ersen is gone and the Household Kitchen is out of reach, why are those disciples still so loyal? To get close to the masters in the palace, they all have to be castrated. What kind of favor could make someone risk being cut off from descendants? Even for money, I don’t get it.”
Kangxi smiled.
The palace’s secret agents and the deathsworn of various noble families in the capital weren’t bought with silver and gold, but their origins weren’t so mysterious.
He glanced at Fang He’s belly, then explained patiently.
“Uya ordered affiliated clans to buy people from all over and send them to the capital. They’d be castrated, then trained in the kitchens. More died than survived.”
“Afterward, Uya would step in, promising them wealth and families, helping these eunuchs to continue their bloodlines. Naturally, they saw her as their savior.”
Fang He: ‘…Ah, a classic case of Stockholm syndrome.’
Uya was no good as a person, but she was a master manipulator.
Kangxi continued, “That palace maid didn’t know much. The reason I didn’t kill Uya wasn’t to send her to a family temple for repentance. That edict was just for the children to see.”
“She’s already been secretly imprisoned. We’ll pry her mouth open and see if we can catch more of the hidden agents. Otherwise, it’s letting her off too easily.”
Ever since learning how much evil Uya had done—how many dirty schemes, how she almost killed the Imperial Matron—Kangxi had only wished he could cut her to pieces.
Fang He probed cautiously, “With Imperial Mother’s cunning, ordinary matters wouldn’t have angered her so much, would they?”
Kangxi pinched her nose with a half-smile and said, “No need to be so cautious with me…”
“Then hurry up and say it!” Fang He raised her head and bit his finger.
‘He’s so infuriating he must’ve been a storyteller in a past life!’
Kangxi pinched her chin, leaned down, and bit back lightly.
Pressing close to her lips, he whispered so softly only she could hear.
“She delivered a message on Uya’s behalf, asserting she possessed evidence that the Imperial Matron caused my mother’s death, intending to manipulate me—the Emperor—entirely, to prevent me from repeating my father’s errors..”
“If Imperial Matron didn’t want the secret revealed, she was to issue an edict sending Uya to the Great Buddha Hall, letting her live as a Noble Lady in seclusion. Uya even promised she couldn’t let go of me or the child, and could spend her life never stepping out of Cining Palace.”
Fang He snorted softly, “She certainly is… deeply infatuated with My Lord.”
Loved Kangxi so much she wanted him dead early, just to become Empress Dowager in advance.
With Uya’s methods, who knew if she might try to approach Yinzhen, pushing the timeline toward what the history books recorded.
Without the Fourteenth Prince, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to despise the Fourth Prince.
That son, she’d use to the end.
Kangxi understood better than anyone.
Uya wasn’t obsessed with him or the children, but with power.
If she had even a shred of maternal love, she wouldn’t have sown discord between the Imperial Noble Consort and Yinzhen.
He’d once considered posthumously making his cousin Empress for the sake of the Crown Prince, without changing Yinzhen’s place in the Genealogy Record.
Apart from the help of the Ba Yi Shi Jia, Uya was shrewd enough to force him to change the Genealogy Record and even tolerate the harem’s deception.
He didn’t want to dwell on people he disliked; he only said all this to satisfy Fang He’s curiosity.
“Aren’t you going to ask if the evidence she mentioned is real?”
Of course Fang He wanted to know, but she understood Kangxi’s feelings about Jingren Palace.
No matter how gossipy she was, she wouldn’t poke at old wounds.
“If My Lord wants to tell me, I’ll listen. If not, I won’t ask.”
Kangxi sighed.
“Half true, half false.”
Fang He widened her eyes.
“So Xiaokang Empress’s death really was connected to Imperial Mother?”
No wonder—if it were false, the Grand Empress Dowager wouldn’t have been so upset.
Heavens, this was truly dramatic.
But Fang He couldn’t figure it out.
Xiaokang Empress didn’t threaten Xiaozhuang’s authority; it’s not like there could only be one Empress Dowager.
Kangxi stroked her puzzled face, voice faint.
“My mother only ever loved my father. After he followed Honored Consort Dong’e in death, half her soul was gone. She often acted mad.”
“After I ascended the throne, she was used by others. She believed I survived smallpox while my father died from it, thinking I stole his fate. Once, she nearly strangled me.”
Kangxi recounted this secret coldly, nothing like the dutiful son who frequently paid respects at Jingren Palace.
“In the Imperial Matron’s eyes, the Great Qing’s legacy was paramount. She didn’t want unrest at court, nor another change of dynasty. She strictly oversaw my studies, kept my mother confined, and ordered her to copy scriptures at Jingren Palace to pray for the royal family.”
“My mother’s health was frail. Copying scriptures day and night made her weaker, and soon she followed my father in death.”
Fang He opened her mouth, at a loss for words.
Her own parents were alive, but it was as if they weren’t.
Fang He could actually understand Kangxi’s complicated feelings—wishing her parents were gone, yet regretting never having loving parents.
Kangxi gently stroked her hair and said, “I’m telling you this not for your pity, but so you understand why I value my heirs so much.”
When he broke out in smallpox, his father, fearing he’d infect the newborn Prince Rong, sent him away to be treated alone.
After Honored Consort Dong’e passed, his father’s spirit was broken.
None of his sons mattered as much as that mother and child, and none were valued.
Fuquan and Changning had their mothers’ affection, but his own mother only watched from afar, crying in Jingren Palace.
Even when the Imperial Matron favored him and helped him become Emperor, it was because he survived smallpox and was more suited than the other princes.
Over the years, the Imperial Matron had shown him warmth, but her guidance and strictness were far greater.
“What I never had, I want my children to have.” Kangxi gently stroked Fang He’s belly.
“I swore, no matter what mistakes they make, as long as I live, I’ll never make them fear for their lives as their Emperor.”
“I can’t tolerate anyone harming my heirs—not just the Crown Prince, but all the children, including the one you’re carrying.”
Fang He gazed up at Kangxi’s gentle yet resolute face, and the last bit of unease in her heart quietly melted away.