Chapter 8 : The Storm Begins, the Princes Clash (1/2)

Fang He didn’t realize that Kangxi had seen her, but she was trembling in the corner.

Mainly because she was standing too close to Zhaoren Hall. 

If she wasn’t careful, she could easily be noticed.

But today, it really wasn’t her intention to come out and eavesdrop.

Although new people had joined the imperial tea room, they had only recently entered the palace and were still young.

Aunt Qin was worried that they hadn’t yet learned the proper etiquette and might offend the nobles. 

So, until they had developed patience and discipline, she didn’t allow them to wander around.

The only two experienced ones left, Cuiwei and Fang He, became the leaders.

Aunt Qin knew that Fang He was reliable in her work but not very articulate, so she specifically arranged for her to take the night shift.

Whether it was because she felt sorry for Cuiwei having to stay up late or simply making the best use of people, Fang He had no idea. 

But since Cuiwei had Aunt Qin’s backing, she always sent Fang He to the imperial tea room before it even got dark.

Fang He didn’t want to argue with Cuiwei, so she came early to take over, only to stumble upon Wunai being dragged out.

For the third time this month!

To protect herself, Fang He had to strain her ears to figure out what rule Wunai had broken this time.

But she hadn’t expected that what she overheard would almost make her bite down on her handkerchief and cry.

Getting sent home—was that even an option?

Wunai was so unwilling to leave the palace that she fainted from the shock, while Fang He watched her being carried away, wishing she could swap places and pass out just to be sent out of the palace too.

Even though she hadn’t saved much money yet, she still had an uncle and a younger brother outside the palace, and she dreamed of buying a shop and finding a husband. 

That was her vision of a small, comfortable life.

She was so envious that she lost control and stared for too long. 

She didn’t react in time to leave before trouble arrived—and ended up running straight into Kangxi as he was coming out.

You can’t see me, you can’t see me… 

She silently prayed to every deity she could think of—Buddha, Jesus, Mary—but why wasn’t the imperial palanquin moving?

Of course, she wasn’t praying to Kangxi but to Liang Jiugong and the other attendants standing outside.

Luckily, Liang Jiugong hadn’t even noticed her hiding behind the pillar.

With guards stationed everywhere, there was no fear of assassins, so the palace servants standing outside the Qianqing Palace were treated like part of the scenery—no one paid them any mind.

But Kangxi, because of his particular angle, happened to spot her. 

Recognizing her as that little “groundhog” with a timid nature, he could only see the top of her dark head as she tried to shrink into herself.

He raised an eyebrow slightly but paid no real attention. 

Instead, he tapped on the palanquin, signaling Liang Jiugong to move forward.

After all, while the women in the palace were technically his, he wasn’t interested in just anyone.

With countless beauties in the palace, he wouldn’t waste his emotions on the ever-present palace servants. 

If he found someone inappropriate, he would dismiss them without hesitation.

Even if he had the slightest, almost imperceptible, interest in this little “groundhog,” he wouldn’t act on it.

Kangxi understood well—if he spoke a single word, even fierce beasts like lions and tigers would bow before him, and the people who served him would learn to scale rooftops if necessary to ensure his comfort.

But if an emperor let others figure out his true nature, it would only be a matter of time before they learned how to manipulate him instead.

His royal nanny had taught him that an emperor must never let others see his emotions too easily, or he would be handing them the power to control him.

Just like how he wouldn’t tell Liang Jiugong outright that the palace maid serving in the hall was unreliable—he wanted the servants to constantly gauge his moods, stay on edge, and serve with absolute caution.

Those with ambition would naturally find ways to climb higher. 

Over time, the most capable ones would emerge.

The only reason Kangxi had paused for a moment was that he suddenly realized something—there was always some sort of commotion happening in front of him, turning into a constant backdrop.

His phoenix-shaped eyes lowered slightly, concealing the unfathomable depth within them.

People still thought he was the same emperor who had to endure and compromise for the sake of peace.

But they had all forgotten—he had already pacified the Three Feudatories, taken back Taiwan, and buried the four regents who once controlled him. 

The empire now fully belonged to Aisin Gioro Xuanye.

It was no longer the same as before.

No matter. 

Let them forget, or pretend not to remember—it didn’t matter.

Soon enough, he would make those blind fools understand the true order of things.

***

Fang He let out a sigh of relief when the imperial palanquin exited Qianqing Gate. 

She immediately dashed back to the imperial tea room and gulped down a cup of over-steeped, lukewarm tea to calm herself.

Since Kangxi would most likely be staying at Yikun Palace tonight, no one would need tea. 

She made up her mind that even if knives started falling from the sky in the imperial tea room, she wouldn’t step outside.

She might as well take the time to memorize the recipes for the whitening pills and fragrance pills, and find an opportunity to secretly send them to Dìsheng.

But she had to be careful not to get caught. 

She would have to wait until the two little maids tending the boiling water got drowsy.

For now, she continued practicing brewing tea using the leaves provided by the Internal Affairs Office for the ministers and princes.

Meanwhile, Kangxi arrived at Yikun Palace.

Unlike her usual vibrant and flamboyant attire, Consort Yi, the birthday star, had deliberately changed into a pale moon-white banner gown embroidered with plain white peonies. 

She stood daintily at the palace entrance, waiting to welcome Kangxi.

The moment Kangxi stepped down from the palanquin, Consort Yi’s eyes instantly reddened. 

Completely disregarding the fact that they were at the palace gates, she choked up as she spoke.

“I thought His Majesty would never come again…”

With a warm expression, Kangxi stepped forward, helped her up from her kneeling position, and teasingly stroked her cheek with his index finger.

“I came today because I was worried about Little Ninth. He just learned to call me ‘Ama’ and hasn’t even learned to swim yet. I can’t let my beloved consort’s tears drown him.”

The last time Consort Yi had gone to see Kangxi at court, she had left in disgrace when he coldly sent her away. 

The embarrassment had been so great that she never dared to bring up the matter of Ninth Prince learning to call him ‘Ama’ again.

She hadn’t expected the emperor to remember this detail. 

Blushing, Consort Yi stomped her foot and pulled Kangxi inside.

“You’re late! Little Ninth can already crawl now. He was fussing about wanting to play outside, so I took him to play with Little Tenth all afternoon. He was so exhausted he fell asleep before even drinking his milk.”

Despite being twenty-four years old, Consort Yi spoke in a crisp and lively tone, like a young maiden finally seeing her beloved. 

She eagerly shared amusing stories of how the Ninth Prince had played in Yongshou Palace.

“Niohuru-jie has been unwell lately, struggling to eat and sleep properly. She hasn’t had the energy to take Little Tenth out to play.”

Smiling, she invited Kangxi to sit on the soft couch, then personally took a warm towel from a maid and began wiping his hands.

“I never expected it—Little Ninth and Little Tenth are two months apart, but even though one of them can’t talk yet, they still manage to play together. Isn’t that interesting?”

Since entering Yikun Palace, Kangxi’s previously warm smile had faded slightly. 

He looked at Consort Yi with an ambiguous expression, somewhere between amusement and indifference.

“If Little Ninth is already asleep, and the Noble Consort is unwell, and you’ve been exhausted looking after both children… should I head back then?”

Consort Yi’s cheerful face froze. 

True to her bold nature, she furiously tossed the towel into a nearby copper basin, her eyes welling up with tears.

“My dear lord! What did I say wrong this time that you won’t even give me face on such an occasion?”

“If you’re going to humiliate me like this, why not just banish me to the Cold Palace? At least then, I wouldn’t have to spend my days in fear and cry myself blind!”

Kangxi did, in fact, enjoy Guoluo’s lively and affectionate temperament. 

Normally, he found her little tantrums amusing.