Noble Lady Ping curved her lips into a smile upon seeing Wen Shan’s dazed expression and continued, “This concubine merely overheard some rumors and thought to share them with you in casual conversation. After all, you share a bond with the Fourth Prince. If Your Ladyship has time, perhaps you could advise Noble Consort Tong Jia. The Fourth Prince is an imperial son after all—it wouldn’t be proper to treat him too harshly.”
Listening from behind the screen, Yinsi narrowed his eyes, thinking to himself that Noble Lady Ping was trying to stir up trouble—using his mother’s influence to suppress Noble Consort Tong Jia. His mother came from a noble lineage, enjoyed the support of both the Grand Empress Dowager and Empress Dowager, and was now raising him. In terms of status, she could indeed contend with Noble Consort Tong Jia.
Currently, the three highest-ranking consorts in the palace were Noble Consort Tong Jia, the Niohuru Clan, and his mother.
However, since Wen Shan disliked competing for favor, Noble Consort Tong Jia and the Niohuru Clan enjoyed greater prominence. While consorts like Rong Pin had borne imperial sons, their children were still young and their backgrounds couldn’t compare to these three, so they remained less conspicuous.
Wen Shan was also surprised by Noble Lady Ping’s words, somewhat unable to grasp what Noble Consort Tong Jia was thinking.
According to current customs, it was common for childless couples to adopt children. The prevailing belief was that such couples were destined to have no children of their own, and that adopting a child—one fated to have siblings—might naturally bring them biological offspring.
The case of the Eldest Princess being brought into the palace by Kangxi to be raised was precisely for this reason.
Thinking of the Eldest Princess made Wen Shan even more perplexed. With such a precedent, how could Noble Consort Tong Jia entertain such thoughts? Wasn’t this opposing Kangxi’s stance?
Noble Lady Ping made her point without elaboration, then gracefully took her leave.
When Zhen Zhu and Hupo entered the hall and noticed Noble Lady Ping was gone, they found it strange how abruptly she had come and departed today. Wen Shan gathered them with a wave and instructed them to summon Fei Cui and Bao Quan as well.
Yinsi listened as the five of them huddled together, chattering incessantly yet failing to decipher Noble Lady Ping’s intentions—even veering off into speculating that she might have been kindly reminding them out of goodwill. Finally, he could no longer contain himself and made a noise.
He kicked over a small toy near his feet.
Only then did Wen Shan remember Yinsi was still behind the screen and hurriedly picked him up. Seeing his aggrieved expression, she cooed and comforted him like he was her precious darling. Hupo, who had proposed the foolish conclusion, stepped forward and said, “Has the Eighth Prince grown tired of lying down? Should this servant take him for a stroll in the garden?”
Yinsi turned and buried his face in Wen Shan’s chest, making it clear he wanted to cling to his mother for now.
He intended to prevent these five from reaching any more earth-shatteringly absurd conclusions.
It seemed life in Xianfu Palace was far too leisurely and comfortable—from the mistress to the servants, none possessed much sense of danger.
Fortunately, although Wen Shan was slow to react to these scheming matters, her intuition was sharp. She felt Noble Lady Ping’s visit had ill intentions. After lengthy discussion, she made the final decision—to hold their position and take no action.
As Wen Shan put it: Whatever the enemy opposes, we must support; whatever the enemy supports, we must oppose!
Noble Lady Ping clearly wanted her to stir up trouble. Regardless of the reason, as long as she pretended not to know, Noble Lady Ping couldn’t cause any mischief.
Bao Quan, Zhen Zhu, Hupo, and Fei Cui collectively applauded and supported their mistress’s decision. Satisfied, Wen Shan dismissed them to hurry and prepare ingredients, planning to make another trip to Cining Palace before noon.
Yinsi listened for a long while and felt quite satisfied with Wen Shan’s decision. It was indeed not the time for rash actions—as long as they remained calm, it would be Noble Lady Ping who grew anxious.
Moreover, the more he pondered the words his mother had spoken, the more profound and sharp they seemed. That such insightful and piercing wisdom could come from his mother’s lips filled Yinsi with deep respect. He thought to himself, this must be what they mean by “still waters run deep.”
Fortunately, Wen Shan had no idea what her seemingly well-behaved little son was thinking, or she would have given him a sharp rap on the head.
After the palace servants had withdrawn, Wen Shan carried Yinsi in her arms, pacing back and forth in the hall while chattering to him incessantly.
“Little Eight, do you think what Noble Lady Ping said is true?”
“Mother can’t help feeling there might be some truth to it. Otherwise, your Fourth Brother wouldn’t be so distressed.”
“What should we do? If it really is like that, we can’t let Yinzhen stay long in Chengqian Palace. What if it causes the child some psychological issues?”
Yinsi thought to himself that although his mother was not particularly shrewd in matters of intrigue, her passionate sincerity and overwhelmingly positive outlook often made him feel ashamed of his own cynicism. For instance, even after Noble Lady Ping’s visit made her intentions clear, his mother bore no resentment or desire for retaliation. Instead, she remained entirely focused on worrying and fretting over Fourth Brother.
It was likely that the Grand Empress Dowager and the Empress Dowager cherished and protected his mother precisely because of this childlike purity. And more often than not, whether by dumb luck or the rewards of virtue, she managed to avoid any real harm.
Perhaps being straightforward and guileless could yield unexpected advantages.
While Yinsi was lost in these reflections, Wen Shan had been holding him and murmuring for some time. Though Yinsi didn’t understand what she meant by “psychological issues,” seeing his mother so concerned for Fourth Brother, he stretched out his little hand to press closer to her. The touch of his soft cheek against hers eased much of her worry. Yinsi resigned himself stoically to his mother’s enthusiastic kisses, thinking inwardly, I’ve sacrificed so much for Mother’s sake.
This debt must be settled on Fourth Brother’s head!
Just wait till he returns—see how I deal with that troublemaker!
Sure enough, when there was no movement from Xianfu Palace, Noble Lady Ping began to grow restless and agitated.
“Could I have misjudged Consort Xuan?” she muttered darkly, her face clouded with suspicion. “She even fell out with the Niohuru Clan over the Fourth Prince before. How could she have no reaction after hearing this?”
Her personal maid, Chunjiang—who had accompanied her from the Hesheri family—ventured cautiously, “Perhaps Consort Xuan was only seeking a good reputation back then. After all, didn’t she end up adopting the Eighth Prince because of it?”
“That’s a possibility. If she only used the Fourth Prince as a stepping stone, she naturally wouldn’t care about this matter.” After a long pause, Noble Lady Ping still felt something was off. “But why do I still feel Consort Xuan isn’t the scheming type? If she were, why wouldn’t she compete for favor?”
What was the point of raising someone else’s child? The Emperor was in his prime, full of vigor. Capturing his affection, bearing a prince of her own, and elevating her family—that was the ambition shared by the other consorts in the palace.
Were it not for her clan’s instructions before entering the palace that her foremost priority was to ensure the Crown Prince’s safe upbringing, and the Hesheri Clan’s concern that she might develop divided loyalties if she bore a royal son—potentially splitting the clan into factions and weakening their strength through internal strife—it would be better to fully support the Crown Prince instead.
This Crown Prince, born of the primary empress and personally raised by the Emperor, would undoubtedly become the next emperor as long as he grew to adulthood.
Fortunately, the Emperor showed little interest in her, so she resigned herself to fate and focused on caring for the Crown Prince as her clan intended.
Chunjiang grew somewhat impatient: “Miss, the master’s intention is for us to quickly find a way to bring down Consort Tong Jia. We must never allow her to ascend to the empress’s position. If she later bears a prince, he would become a formidable rival to the Crown Prince.”
Noble Lady Ping closed her eyes briefly. A few days earlier, the Hesheri Clan had sent a letter stating that the Emperor seemed inclined to appoint a daughter of the Tongjia clan as empress. Before she entered the palace, her father Soetu had spoken with her candidly, stating that the Emperor would never again appoint a daughter of the Hesheri or Niohuru Clans as empress. Thus, her and the Niohuru Clan’s entry into the palace, while appearing glorious and prosperous, might ultimately pave the way for someone else.
At that time, Soetu had pointed out that this person was most likely the Emperor’s maternal clan, the Tongjia.
A few days ago, the clan, having obtained information from an unknown source, urgently sent word for her to find a way to remove Consort Tong Jia from power. Although the Tongjia clan was at the peak of its influence in the court, if Consort Tong Jia committed a major offense in the rear palace, she would be unable to become empress.
If Consort Tong Jia were to ascend to the empress’s position and then bear a prince, with the support of the Tongjia clan, it would spell trouble.
Therefore, when Noble Lady Ping accidentally encountered the two young eunuchs from Chengqian Palace and learned of this matter from them, she was overjoyed. It seemed heaven was aiding her—just when she lacked leverage against Consort Tong Jia, it was delivered to her doorstep.
Noble Lady Ping’s original plan was that by now, Consort Xuan should have already publicized the incident. It would be simple for Consort Xuan to escalate the matter; she could just report it to the Grand Empress Dowager as she had when accusing the Niohuru Clan last time.
Once the matter spread, the Tongjia clan was bound to suffer a major setback.
Fabricating stories about a prince and suspected mistreatment—this charge would be enough to make her pay dearly.
Once confirmed, she would lose all possibility of becoming empress.
But now, things had fallen through at Consort Xuan’s end.
Consort Xuan showed no movement at all, continuing as usual to stroll in the gardens with the Eighth Prince in her arms and visiting Cining Palace to amuse the two elder ladies. This made Noble Lady Ping doubt whether she had misjudged Consort Xuan.
So the next day, Consort Cheng, who was on good terms with Noble Lady Ping, went to Xianfu Palace under the pretext of exchanging child-rearing tips, bringing the Seventh Prince with her.
The Seventh Prince had been able to remain under Consort Cheng’s care partly because he was born with a slight disability and Kangxi did not value him highly, and partly because Noble Lady Ping had exerted influence behind the scenes. Since then, Consort Cheng had followed Noble Lady Ping’s lead unquestioningly.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Consort Cheng observed Wen Shan’s expression, took a sip of tea, and said, “The tea at your residence is excellent. I heard this year’s tribute tea will arrive later, apparently because last year’s poor rainfall affected this year’s harvest. The tea farmers must all despise the weather for this, and now we all have to make do with inferior tea leaves.”
Insinuating and sarcastic.
Held in Wen Shan’s arms, Yinsi couldn’t resist putting his fingers back into his mouth. He had just started sucking on them when he heard his mother say enthusiastically, “I still have some Biluochun tea from last year’s harvest. If Noble Lady Cheng doesn’t mind, please take some back with you. It’s not the finest tea, but I find its fragrance quite pleasant.”
Noble Lady Cheng: “…”
Yinsi watched as Noble Lady Cheng walked out clutching a bundle of tea leaves, her face twisted in such a comical expression that he nearly applauded in admiration.
Wen Shan ruffled Yinsi’s newly grown soft hair and complained, “I knew their sudden visit couldn’t be for anything good! So they came here to fish for things!”
All that talking just for some tea leaves – how utterly boring!
Yinsi: “…”
So Mother hadn’t caught the underlying meaning in their words after all. He had thought she was skillfully countering their subtle hints.
Yet by sheer coincidence, she had managed to thwart Noble Lady Cheng’s hidden agenda.
After complaining for a while, Wen Shan rested her chin in her hands and said, “The Grand Empress Dowager told me to wait and observe how things develop, but I don’t know how long we have to wait. What if Noble Consort Tong Jia bullies Yinzhen?”
“I’ve been so worried about this that I dream about it at night. I won’t be able to rest easy until Yinzhen returns.”
Actually, Wen Shan had already reported the matter to the Grand Empress Dowager on the day Noble Lady Ping visited.
It wasn’t that she wanted the Grand Empress Dowager to intervene on Yinzhen’s behalf, but rather she sensed the situation was more complicated than it appeared. Knowing her own limitations in handling such matters, the self-aware Wen Shan chose to report directly and let the Grand Empress Dowager decide.
Upon hearing the report, the Grand Empress Dowager’s expression immediately darkened. After a long silence, seeing Wen Shan’s innocent, clear eyes, she sighed deeply.
Waving her hand and massaging her temple, she said, “Stay out of this matter. Just watch and wait.”
“But Yinzhen…”
“You’re a lucky girl, having someone eagerly delivering the child back to you,” the Grand Empress Dowager glared at her. “Just wait patiently.”
Though Wen Shan didn’t fully understand, she had the virtue of obedience. Since the Grand Empress Dowager had never been wrong before, she chose to wait dutifully.
After Wen Shan left, Sumalagu said with a smile, “Your Majesty previously said you wouldn’t get involved in this matter, but when Consort Xuan came to plead with you, you couldn’t help yourself.”
“Who would have thought the Hesheri family would be involved again? When it concerns the Crown Prince, it’s no longer a minor matter that can be left to Wen Shan’s handling.”
The Grand Empress Dowager snorted, “That girl Wen Shan does have good fortune. She finally went to see the Emperor a few days ago, but after one setback she stopped going. I was hoping to use this opportunity to temper her properly, to make her understand that in the palace, pleasing the Emperor is what brings comfort. The lifelong reliance of imperial consorts is the Emperor and their children. How can she keep avoiding the Emperor? I never expected someone would interfere and give her an easy way out.”
Suppressing a smile, Sumalagu said, “With Your Majesty and the Empress Dowager here, Consort Xuan won’t suffer any injustice.”
Remembering Wen Shan’s clear, guileless eyes, the Grand Empress Dowager made a dismissive sound. “Forget it, forget it. I suppose she’s one of those fools blessed by fortune.”
After anxiously waiting for over half a month, Wen Shan finally saw results when someone reported to the Emperor about Noble Consort Tong Jia taking out her grief over losing her son on the Fourth Prince.
What surprised Wen Shan was the identity of the first accuser – it was actually Consort Hui, mother of the Eldest Prince.