Chapter 77: The accident happened without any warning (2/2)
After Kangxi’s departure, Niuhulu lingered in the snow, rising only when her maid, Hongxiu, offered a steadying hand.
Save for the faint redness in her eyes, her face was a mask of indifference.
She entered the inner hall at a leisurely pace, the weakening cries within bringing a satisfied glint to her eyes.
“Can’t you hear Concubine De’s cries growing faint?” she chided the physician lightly.
“Hurry and prepare some ginseng broth to bolster her strength. His Majesty is waiting for good news.”
“Hongxiu, assist the physician with the broth. Don’t let him overexert himself.”
The physician, head bowed low, his expression hidden, managed a shaky, “Yes.”
Soon, a steaming bowl of ginseng broth, accompanied by slices of century-old ginseng, was carried into the bedchamber by a Yonghe Palace maid.
“Get out—I won’t drink it!” The sound of shattering porcelain echoed from within.
Niuhulu leaned languidly against a low table, her head propped on the back of her hand as if too weary to heed Concubine De’s furious outburst.
In truth, she was concealing the smile tugging at her lips.
‘Sister, I’ve caught the one who slipped poison into your broth through the Imperial Household’s spies years ago.’
Her little princess hadn’t been killed by another’s hand.
In her desperate bid for another prince, she had taken harsh fetal medicine from the Imperial Household, weakening her daughter’s fragile body until a simple chill claimed her.
Who else but Concubine De could have orchestrated it?
Whether it was her doing both times or not, the grudge between them—coupled with Faka’s tragic end—demanded reckoning.
Unable to strike at the true source of her pain, Niuhulu settled her score with Concubine De first.
After being forced to drink the ginseng broth and chew the bitter slices, Concubine De regained some strength.
The child, small and premature, came quickly.
Uya-shi gave birth to a frail prince, his skin bruised purple, his cries weaker than a kitten’s.
The physician, examining him, felt his heart lurch.
The boy’s fingernails hadn’t even fully formed.
Before the birth, the physician had steeled himself for a stillbirth, a tragedy he could bear.
But to see the child born only to suffer like this…
Resigned to his own fate, fearing for his family, he silently muttered a prayer, trembling as he checked the prince’s pulse.
To his astonishment, the boy’s pulse, though weak, held a stubborn spark of life.
Despite the premature birth induced by poison at just over six months, the child’s condition wasn’t hopeless.
The physician, relieved, instructed the midwives to swaddle the infant carefully before reporting to the Noble Consort.
“Lady Noble Consort, though the prince is premature, he was well-nourished in the womb. With careful tending, he can likely be raised.”
Niuhulu’s head snapped up, her shock briefly unmasked.
‘How could this be?’
A flicker of disbelief crossed her mind—was this lowly woman’s fate truly so unyielding?
The Imperial Concubine had worked through the Imperial Household to make life difficult for Yonghe Palace.
Concubine Yi had procured inducing drugs through her own channels.
Niuhulu herself had slipped a sterility concoction into the ginseng broth via her connections.
Tong Pin and Nala Guiren had smuggled oleander powder and safflower into the palace, hidden in silver ingots through an errand-running eunuch.
And yet, the child lived?
She forced a cold smile.
“This is good news. Hurry and report it to His Majesty!”
Before Hongxiu could respond, a midwife’s cry rang out.
“Disaster! Concubine De is hemorrhaging!”
As the midwives covered the bedding, the physician, wiping sweat from his brow, rushed in to check Concubine De’s pulse.
With deft acupuncture, he miraculously stabilized her.
For a moment, Niuhulu, hearing the physician’s labored breathing, thought Concubine De might not survive.
A child that should have died in the womb had lived, and now this woman’s stubborn vitality grated on her nerves.
She longed to storm in and strangle Uya-shi herself.
But she held still.
Even Concubine Hui and Concubine Rong, who turned a blind eye to the palace’s schemes, despised Concubine De.
The Imperial Concubine, Concubine Yi, Tong Pin, and Nala Guiren, who had suffered most at her hands, refused to let her die too easily.
A quick death would be too kind for the pain she’d inflicted over the years.
Lady Zhangjia of Xianfu Palace, after a longer labor, delivered a relatively healthy princess.
To Kangxi’s surprise, the Imperial Concubine never sent her own people into the birthing chamber, nor did she acknowledge the trusted midwives he dispatched.
She sat in silence until Zhangjia-shi gave birth, then returned to Chengqian Palace without a word.
Two consorts giving birth prematurely in a single day alarmed even Xiaozhuang, who sent for answers.
Concubine Yi, already informed, sat in her sedan, lifting the curtain to watch the swirling snow.
Her eyes held a trace of cool detachment, yet also a spark of girlish mischief.
“Careful, my lady, you’ll catch a chill,” her maid Cherry cautioned softly.
Concubine Yi laughed lightly.
“This cold is nothing. Your mistress is made of sterner stuff.”
No cold could compare to the chill she felt learning that Yinzhi’s frail health wasn’t her fault but the result of calculated sabotage, despite her utmost care.
She chuckled softly, leaving her next thought unspoken: ‘Concubine De has surely delivered safely by now, hasn’t she?’
Cherry, unsurprised, nodded firmly. “
Concubine De and her child are surely safe.”
The woman who had left Concubine Yi’s little master bedridden, weeping silently as he gazed at the world outside, deserved worse than a miscarriage.
That would be too lenient.
The inducing drugs Concubine Yi had smuggled into the palace included not only labor triggers but also herbs to strengthen the body, which was why Concubine De hadn’t noticed immediately.
A child born before seven months, even if healthy, would struggle to survive.
A cold sneer flickered in Concubine Yi’s eyes, a tear of hatred glinting briefly.
If it cost her virtue, so be it.
She would keep that child alive, forcing Concubine De to watch it die before her eyes—a fitting retribution.
When the consorts gathered in Cining Palace, Kangxi soon arrived.
Fang He sat quietly below Concubine Yi, her eyes lowered.
As Kangxi entered, she didn’t stir, not even lifting her gaze.
He glanced at her instinctively, a fleeting thought crossing his mind: ‘She looks thinner.’
Frowning slightly, he pushed down his exasperation and offered a deep bow to Xiaozhuang.
“On such a cold day, to trouble the Grand Empress Dowager with such trifles is my failing.”
Xiaozhuang’s brow furrowed.
“Yonghe Palace was under strict watch, yet someone still found a way to exploit it. If others bear children in the future and face such malicious schemes, what then?”
“And what of Lady Zhangjia?” Xiaozhuang pressed, her voice tinged with concern.
“In this blizzard, was she not staying safely indoors? How could she fall for no reason?”
Kangxi, seated below Xiaozhuang, explained, “I’ve already ordered the Department of Punishment to investigate. No matter who is responsible…”
His icy gaze swept over the consorts in the hall, lingering briefly on Fang He’s bowed head.
“I will not show mercy.”
Concubine Tongjia coughed softly, rising to kneel with delicate grace.
“Your Majesty, please calm your anger. This matter reflects my failure to manage palace affairs strictly. Having been ill, I’ve been unequal to the task, and the Noble Consort’s health is frail as well…”
She paused, her voice gentle but measured.
“In my view, why not have the Noble Consort, Concubine Hui, Concubine Rong, and Concubine Yi assist me in managing the palace? With more hands, the work can be handled meticulously. What do the Grand Empress Dowager and Your Majesty think?”
Xiaozhuang, weary and in poor spirits, waved a hand.
“I have no objection. I leave this to you, Emperor. Such incidents must never happen again.”
“Your grandson understands,” Kangxi replied warmly.
But upon returning to Qianqing Palace, he was met by a pale-faced Liang Jiugong.
“Your Majesty, Concubine De has woken and asked to see the little prince. He seemed fine at first, but… for reasons unknown, he began convulsing in her arms. Before the physician could administer medicine to the wet nurse… the prince passed.”
Kangxi’s face darkened.
“And Concubine De?”
“She was given harsh medicine and fainted from shock. Physician Lu says… her chances of waking are slim.”
The snow had not yet ceased, yet two consorts had given premature birth in a single day—one child dead, one alive, and a consort now teetering on the edge of death.
The imperial court had not a single clue.
Kangxi’s long-suppressed rage erupted, a fire blazing from his chest.
With a single blow, he shattered the low table on the luohan bed, sending Liang Jiugong and the others scrambling to their knees.
“Well done! Truly well done!” he roared.
“This palace is brimming with talent, treating me like a fool to be played!”
What was next—would they dare to toy with the emperor’s life itself?
His eyes churned with a tempest, the air in Qianqing Palace growing as cold as a midwinter wind.
Yet, in an instant, his voice turned eerily calm.
“Order the Imperial Guards to confine all consorts to their palaces. Without my decree, no one enters or leaves—violators will be executed without pardon. Summon the Department of Punishment to interrogate every servant closely attending the main consorts.
He further added, “No one dies, but if they fail to uncover the truth, the Department of Punishment will be disbanded and sent to the Xin Zhe Ku as slaves. Command Fuquan to oversee the Imperial Household Department. If they make a single mistake, I’ll hold him accountable. And tell Zhao Chang to take the Heavenly Order and begin searching the palaces, starting with Chengqian Palace!”
Liang Jiugong’s voice trembled as he acknowledged the order.
Since the exile of the eldest prince in the twelfth year, the palace had not seen such upheaval.
How had the skies turned so swiftly?
At Tousuo Hall, Fang He’s residence, the Imperial Guards sealed the gates.
She carried on as if nothing had happened, selecting the softest cotton cloth to learn sewing with Cui Wei and Chunlai for her child’s clothes.
They might not turn out perfect, but she could at least make a pattern, leaving the finer work to Cui Wei, Chunlai, and even Xinke, who could transform them into works of art.
The thought brought an irrepressible smile to her lips.
Her child was blessed, unlike her, who had worn others’ hand-me-downs as a girl.
“My lady, the Department of Punishment and the guards have begun searching the palaces,” Chunlai reported quietly, slipping inside.
Fang He nodded with a faint smile.
“Let them proceed. Organize our storeroom neatly to make their search easier, but keep a sharp eye—nothing must go missing.”
She had only passed information to the other palaces, never inquiring about their findings or plans.
As for Yonghe Palace, aside from Wei Zhu’s superficial meddling, she had done nothing more.
Yet the outcome stunned her.
She had to admit, in the Forbidden City, it was never the men who shone brightest—this was a stage for women.
From Xiaozhuang to Cixi, and now these high-ranking consorts, united for the first time, their schemes outstripped anything she could hope to match.
In the past, Fang He had felt a faint superiority, standing on the shoulders of giants.
Not arrogance, but enough to let her impulses go unchecked, never bothering to blend too deeply into this world’s ways.
A trace of detachment lingered, as if she were a passerby, her joys and sorrows muted.
But now, stroking her belly with a tender expression, she vowed to curb her recklessness.
Better to avoid making enemies—she couldn’t outmaneuver Concubine De, let alone these allied consorts.
Kangxi’s thunderous wrath and the palace’s unprecedented upheaval bore fruit in just three days.
The Department of Punishment and Zhao Chang, one in the open, one in the shadows, laid their findings on the imperial desk.
Reading the confessions, Kangxi’s fury nearly set the room ablaze, yet he almost laughed.
The Department’s investigation revealed that nannie’s of Tongjia and Nala Guiren had taken their own lives, a lowly servant in Chengqian Palace had been implicated by Concubine Tongjia and died, Yongshou Palace remained quiet, and both Yikun and Zhongcui Palaces saw maids perish by their own hands.
In the end, the trail led to traces of the White Lotus Sect.
Kangxi sneered inwardly.
He hadn’t known the White Lotus Sect wielded such influence in the capital, infiltrating the palace at will.
Then he opened Zhao Chang’s report.
The shadow guards’ findings, cross-referenced with interrogations from the Department and the imperial estate, painted a more grounded picture.
But as Kangxi read, he wished it had been the White Lotus Sect rather than his own consorts colluding in such brazen deceit.
His rage threatened to consume Qianqing Palace.
Yet, after smashing everything in sight, leaving the hall in ruins, a profound powerlessness settled over him.
The Imperial Concubine,Tongjia, frail and nearing death, had been poisoned by Concubine De, even losing the eighth princess to her schemes.
The Noble Consort, Niuhulu, had watched her sister Xiaozhao die by her own hand, poisoned with harsh medicine.
Concubine Yi’s Yinzhi, weakened in the womb by conflicting drugs—one red, one calming—faced a life unlikely to reach adulthood.
Tong Pin’s sixth princess and even Yin’e’s near-drowning were orchestrated by Uya-shi to regain favor.
At the report’s end, Zhao Chang added a few lines: “The nannie’s of Concubine Tongjia and Niuhulu took all blame upon themselves and have died by their own hands. During the palace searches, the consorts knelt toward Qianqing Palace, hairpins removed, clad in plain robes, silent.”
Kangxi sat desolate on the luohan bed, silent until night fell.
The shadow guards’ evidence was irrefutable, and the consorts’ brazen confessions mocked him.
A bitter smirk curved his lips.
He had cherished a venomous woman for over a decade, surrounded by a cadre of cunning strategists who outwitted even him.
Could he execute them all?
Setting aside the court, the princes tied to these women made it impossible.
Never had he felt so powerless, questioning how utterly he had failed as a husband to foster such a den of vipers.
They dared to confess in plain robes?
A cruel joke.
They knew he wouldn’t touch them, sacrificing favor to vent their hatred.
Could he defend Uya-shi, that venomous woman?
Yet the challenge to his imperial dignity sparked a fleeting urge to order their deaths in the night, heedless of consequence.
No!
Kangxi’s head snapped up, his cold, ferocious eyes narrowing.
Among all the schemers, one who should have acted remained silent.
How had Concubine Tongjia and the others learned of the spies in their palaces?
The people in front of the Emperor, Fuquan and Zhao Chang, didn’t dare to do it, only a bastard dared to do it!!
Zhao Chang was also tasked with this investigation and had nearly uncovered the truth during the Department’s interrogations.
But with Cui Wei, Chunlai, and Wei Zhu of Tousuo Hall, he dared not use harsh methods, taking time to glean answers indirectly from other palaces.
Taking a deep breath, Zhao Chang entered Zhaoren Hall, kneeling to report softly, “Your Majesty, I’ve uncovered how the palaces learned—”
“No need,” Kangxi cut him off, his expression glacial in the dim light.
Zhao Chang’s heart sank.
He glanced up cautiously.
“Your Majesty?”
Kangxi’s rage and ferocity were buried deep, his face a chilling calm.
“I said, no need.”
His voice, hoarse and low, carried a dangerous edge.
“Take your men and detain all of Tousuo Hall’s servants… confine them there.”
He paused, then added coldly, “Summon Consort Zhao alone to Yanhui Palace to face me.”