Only his grandmother, though not overly affectionate, still cared for him.
She was like a stabilizing anchor—while she was there, he felt he could face any difficulty.
Now that she was gone, his heart felt empty, unable to see the road ahead, and he could no longer indulge in the secret whims and impulses no one else knew about.
Liang Jiugong wanted to say more, but suddenly noticed circles of water stains falling onto the paper, spreading across the freshly copied Buddhist scripture.
Kangxi quickly balled up the paper, not looking up, and continued copying quietly.
Liang Jiugong sighed inwardly, but dared not say more.
With the Grand Empress Dowager’s passing, even Noble Lady Xuan, who had been confined to a detached palace, was brought back.
Whether her temper had been worn down in the detached palace, or she realized she had fewer and fewer supports, Noble Lady Xuan had been silent since returning, unprecedentedly quiet.
Everyone else was much the same; it could be said that the entire Forbidden City was shrouded in a peculiar, tranquil sorrow.
With one exception.
In the side hall of Cining Palace, Tongjia Wanying knelt beside the fainted Imperial Noble Consort, her face pale and expressionless as she attended her.
When people entered, she sobbed a few times; when no one was around, the coldness and hatred in her eyes could not be concealed.
Today was supposed to be her day to enter the palace, but that old woman had to die not sooner or later, but right before her entry!
The Emperor would observe mourning for a year, and had decreed the cancellation of the 28th year’s selection.
The Ministry of Rites had called off the selection, and all the young ladies traveling to the capital had already changed into mourning attire and were on their way home.
Tongjia Wanying’s hope of becoming a consort, or even entering the palace at all, had turned into a fantasy.
Even with her elder sister now dead, she would have to wait at least another year before she could enter the palace to take her place!
If her sister was long-lived, by the 31st year she’d be eighteen and past the age for selection, left only to hope for her sister’s death for her own chance.
She only regretted not listening to her father, not entering the palace earlier through the Tong Family’s connections, even as a Noble Lady—it would have been better than this.
A year was enough for too many things to change.
With Consort Zhao and the Emperor’s feelings for each other, even though this time she’d given birth to a princess, she’d surely have a son in the future.
Once the mourning was over and Consort Zhao bore a son, the position of Noble Consort was almost guaranteed.
By then, not only would she still be beneath Fang He, but even aspiring to Imperial Noble Consort might be impossible if that woman’s favor only grew.
Tongjia Wanying was unwilling—she could not let Consort Zhao remain favored in the harem!
Fortunately, she’d always been shrewd, and within a few days, she had devised a flawless plan.
That night, after the mourning ended, upon returning to the Tong Family, she immediately took her mother to the study to see her father, Tong Guowei.
“Father, with the selection canceled, after three years our Tong Family may have no place in the palace. For now, we must eliminate Consort Zhao while her foundation is still shallow, to preserve our family’s glory.”
Madam Hesheri was shocked.
“Can this work? Your elder sister already made a mistake once—if discovered, our family will be doomed!”
Tong Guowei was also worried, but he knew his second daughter’s cunning well.
He pondered for a moment, then looked up and asked, “Do you already have a plan?”
Tongjia Wanying smiled to reassure her mother.
“Mother, Father, there’s no need to worry. Our Tong Family doesn’t need to act ourselves at all.”
“As the Emperor’s maternal family, how could we trouble our cousin in these turbulent times?”
“We must not only avoid harming Consort Zhao, but even help support her for our cousin’s sake.”
“Father and Uncle are the Emperor’s uncles—shouldn’t you help him in his time of need?”
Tong Guowei understood instantly, a flash of brilliance in his eyes, followed by a smile.
Stroking his beard, he nodded.
“Good, good, worthy daughter of our Tong Family! You’re much better than your elder sister!”
“To help our cousin overcome his grief—”
“Your mother will take you to the temples more often to make offerings, spreading our family’s good name. As for your entry into the palace, I’ll handle it!”
As night deepened, lights lit up throughout the Tong Family residence, but they couldn’t pierce the undercurrents surging in the darkness.
The new white lanterns at Yanxi Palace were also aglow.
Wei Zhu stood outside the screen, quietly reporting to Fang He, who was gently cleaning up after her little one had relieved herself.
“These days, His Majesty barely eats or drinks, going to Cining Palace every day after morning court to mourn the old ancestor. The Empress Dowager is the same—both have fainted several times.”
Fang He cradled the baby, who yawned and smacked her lips before falling asleep, and had Fule sprinkle talcum powder on her bottom as she’d prepared in advance.
Once done, Fang He expertly changed the baby’s diaper, then had Fule place the little one in the cradle delivered earlier by the Zaoban Office.
Afterward, she wiped her hands with a damp cloth and asked Wei Zhu from behind the screen, “Who sent this message?”
Wei Zhu whispered, “It was Li Dequan. He also said the ceremonial items for your rank have been prepared by the Zaoban Office and delivered to Yanxi Palace.”
Fang He picked a fragrance-free face cream, gently smoothing it on her face and hands, especially her fingertips that often touched the baby, rubbing carefully for a while before stopping.
She leaned back on the soft pillow, eyes downcast in thought.
Was Li Dequan hoping she’d go out during her confinement to persuade the Empress Dowager and His Majesty to take care of themselves?
Liang Jiugong wasn’t afraid of the Emperor’s wrath.
If she went out, she’d surely get both him and Li Dequan beaten half to death.
For the two of them to risk so much, it was clear the Empress Dowager and His Majesty were truly unwell.
She was very worried about the Empress Dowager; as for Kangxi, well, considering the little one, she was at least somewhat concerned.
Now that she knew, she couldn’t ignore it.
But having just given birth less than two weeks ago, braving the cold wind—especially after taking Labor-Inducing Medicine and Renshen Pills, which had weakened her body—would be courting death.
If she caught something and brought it back, the little one wouldn’t be able to withstand it.
She glanced at her baby, fists curled by her chubby cheeks, sleeping sweetly, and thought for a long time before coming up with an idea.
“You, go to the Zaoban Office and have them make two wooden frames, each one foot square and an inch deep, and prepare some kiln clay to send over.”
Wei Zhu didn’t know what his mistress wanted, but did as instructed and left immediately.
Cui Wei was curious so she asked, “Master, what are you planning?”
“In your condition, you can’t go out in the wind, but you can’t ignore Shoukang Palace and Cining Palace either. Should I bring some soup from the Household Kitchen to deliver?”
Fang He shook her head and replied, “No need. I’m sure Liang Jiugong has already tried persuading them. If you go now and fail, it’ll only make us a laughingstock.”
She didn’t want to use her different standing in their hearts to force them out of their sorrow—that wasn’t realistic and would only annoy people.
The only thing that can break the sadness of death is new life.
With Liang Jiugong’s help, it took only three days for the items Fang He requested to be delivered to Kangxi, who was resting in Qianqing Palace after fainting, and another set sent to Shoukang Palace.
Kangxi lay on the couch, still holding memorials to read.
He had originally planned to go to Jiangnan again while things were still calm, to stabilize the rear before going to war with the Dzungars.
But with the Grand Empress Dowager’s passing, he had to postpone those plans.
Now, with summer approaching, there has been much rain, and several showers in recent days.
Jin Fu’s newly built canal and flood control projects needed oversight, and Kangxi had to keep a close eye on them.
There were also issues discovered during negotiations with Luosha, where the maps were not precise enough.
Although the talks succeeded, many problems were uncovered.
If conflict arose again, unclear borders would be a problem.
Kangxi always liked to keep everything under his control, resolving what he could in advance, never procrastinating.
He ordered a new map of the Great Qing, using latitude and longitude based on Nan Huairen’s world map.
This also encountered many issues, all requiring urgent attention…
Kangxi was lost in thought when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Liang Jiugong entering with a strange-looking tray, and a crooked bowl containing dragon beard cake and red date cake—just looking at it hurt his eyes.
He glanced at Liang Jiugong.
“Did you eat all the porcelain in Qianqing Palace? How dare you bring such things before me? Take it away!”
Liang Jiugong didn’t obey, smiling nervously.
“I wouldn’t dare, Your Majesty. This is from the Nine Princess herself. Would you take another look?”
Upon hearing it was from his newborn daughter, Kangxi perked up a bit, propping himself up on the pillow and frowning at the tray and bowl.
Looking closely, he realized the tray was unsteady because it had two tiny footprints pressed into it, with a line of familiar characters underneath:
“Jiujiu: Eat your food one bite at a time, walk one step at a time. If you don’t eat, you won’t be able to walk. Father, be good.”
Kangxi: “…..”
‘What kind of name did that rascal give the princess?’
His eyes moved to the oddly chipped bowl, noticing that the “chip” was actually two tiny palm prints, clearly made before firing.
Along the rim was another line of small characters:
“Jiujiu: Another day of missing Father after a full meal. Want to feed Father something sweet. Father, open wide~”
Kangxi’s eyes suddenly burned again, but a smile crept unconsciously onto his lips.
If Grand Empress Dowager were still here, she would surely want to kiss that little one too.
If she really was watching from heaven, she’d probably scold him for not being as sensible as a newborn child.
He rubbed his brow, wiped away the dampness at his eyes, and finished the cakes in the bowl.
The bowl wasn’t big—just enough to avoid upsetting his weak stomach after days of not eating properly.
After a few sips of Beimeng milk tea, Kangxi felt a little more strength return.
He stood up and personally cleaned the two items.
“Are Consort Zhao and… the Nine Princess well?”
Seeing Kangxi finish the treats, Liang Jiugong could barely contain his joy and quickly replied, “The mistress and little princess are both doing very well. Madam said she and the princess will eat enough to make up for what Your Majesty missed, so they’ll have the strength to look after the Empress Dowager and Your Majesty when they can leave the palace.”
“You sent one to the Empress Dowager too?” Kangxi smiled faintly, caressing the tiny hand and footprints, reluctant to put them away.
Liang Jiugong: “I had Li Dequan send it. The Empress Dowager cried a while, ate, drank some calming soup, and fell asleep.”
Kangxi wasn’t surprised.
When Fang He wanted to comfort someone, she could warm their heart.
Now, with Jiujiu as well, the two of them would surely rule the palace.
He shook his head with a smile, giving careful instructions:
“These days are difficult. I’m afraid the child is too sensitive and might be affected. After sending Grand Empress Dowager to the detached palace, I’ll visit them.”
“Remind the Imperial Household Department to take extra care. The kitchen is busy and crowded; all Yanxi Palace meals must come from the Household Kitchen—no mistakes are allowed.”
Liang Jiugong thought, ‘Consort Zhao gave birth to a princess, not a prince, and everyone’s in mourning—who would have the energy to target her now?’
Still, he answered seriously.
Just for making His Majesty eat a little more, he didn’t mind the trouble.
But to Liang Jiugong’s surprise, someone really did find time to stir up trouble even during mourning.
Before Xiaozhuang’s golden coffin had even left the palace, rumors spread that the Nine Princess was the Grand Empress Dowager’s reincarnation, quickly circulating everywhere.
Zhao Chang and the Shadow Guard investigated, but found it wasn’t deliberately spread by anyone.
“Not long after the old ancestor’s passing, Consort Zhao went into labor. As soon as the mourning altar at Cining Palace was set up, the Nine Princess was born—at the most auspicious hour for balancing yin and yang.”
“Even the Imperial Astronomical Bureau said the Nine Princess was extremely blessed. Everyone believes the old ancestor, having completed her virtuous life, couldn’t bear to leave the Emperor and Empress Dowager, so she reincarnated to stay by their side.”
“These days, palace servants have been chanting Amitabha outside Yanxi Palace, saying that before Consort Zhao entered the palace, a great master predicted she would be extraordinarily noble, so such good fortune isn’t surprising.”
Kangxi was moved.
For a moment, he even felt this explanation might be true.
Though he hadn’t yet met Jiujiu, his affection for her was already no less than for the Crown Prince, as if his bond with his grandmother was not yet severed.
All the more, Kangxi didn’t dare to bring the somber aura of Cining Palace to visit his daughter.
He suppressed his urge, and, following the grandest funeral rites, sent the Grand Empress Dowager’s coffin to Huangxin Village’s detached palace for temporary rest.
He planned to move her to the imperial tomb once it was completed, but if war broke out, she’d remain there for now, and had all the bricks and tiles from Cining Palace transported as well.
After accompanying Xiaozhuang’s coffin through the forty-nine days, Kangxi finally returned to the palace.
After bathing in Qianqing Palace, he wasted no time heading straight to Yanxi Palace, but upon entering he did not see Fang He.
He asked Wei Zhu, “Where is your mistress?”
Wei Zhu quickly replied, “Mistress was so grieved during childbirth that she injured her body. The Imperial Doctor said she needs double the usual confinement—she’s still inside the hall and cannot come out yet.”
“And the Nine Princess?”
Wei Zhu: “The princess is sleeping in the side hall.”
Kangxi thought for a moment and went to the side hall first.
The moment he saw the now fair and tender little bundle, he stood quietly at the door for a long time before stepping inside.
The weather was already hot.
The little one wore only a pale apricot romper made specially by Fang He, making her round, rosy cheeks look even whiter—like fresh milk pudding from the kitchen.
Her tiny hands, not even a quarter the size of his palm, curled beside her cheeks like a dozing little animal, making him want to laugh.
Kangxi’s expression softened unconsciously, smiling as he sat beside the little one, watching her tiny belly gently rise and fall with each breath, feeling as if he could watch her all afternoon.
As soon as he entered, Fang He knew.
Though she was still in confinement, after the first month she could wash up, just not go outside.
Fang He changed into clothes without any milk scent, sat on the soft couch, and waited calmly for Kangxi to come over.
She’d heard the palace rumors—everyone at Yanxi Palace delighted in them—but Fang He never showed any joy.
Jiujiu was just herself, not anyone’s reincarnation.
Fang He would not allow anyone to use this as an excuse for anything—not even Kangxi.
And she didn’t believe anyone in the palace would do her and her daughter a favor without reason.
After waiting a while and not seeing Kangxi approach, Fang He understood.
That dog of a man probably believed the rumor.
Fang He calmly told Cui Wei, “Have everyone keep their distance, and bring me a pot of honeysuckle water.”
Cui Wei felt that her mistress’s expression didn’t look like someone finally reunited with the master—she even felt a little nervous.
She tried to warn gently, “Mistress, you’re not through your confinement yet, and His Majesty is still observing mourning. Now isn’t the time for… rashness.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not being rash.”
Fang He leisurely rolled up her sleeves, took a sip of warm water to soothe her throat, and casually dropped a bomb.
“I’m just planning to have a good argument with His Majesty.”
Cui Wei: “….”
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