Liang Jiagong and the two wet nurses standing nearby were startled, while Kangxi gritted his teeth in pain. How could such a small child already have teeth? Those tiny teeth were barely visible, yet biting down with them caused such sharp pain.
After biting down hard, Yiqing immediately loosened her grip. She was not a dog, after all—one bite was enough to vent her frustration, and there was no need to keep her jaws clamped shut.
Kangxi looked at the faint mark of small teeth on his hand, which was almost invisible unless one looked closely. He gave a helpless smile and gently tapped Yiqing’s forehead. “You little rascal.”
Kangxi himself was only eighteen years old at this time, though having had several children already had given him some sense of what it meant to be a father. Yet when Yiqing looked at him, she could not help but feel as though she were looking at a high school student.
In truth, she felt much the same way about Empress Hešeri. However, because the Empress had always taken such meticulous care of her, Yiqing naturally regarded her as a mother figure and often overlooked her youth.
Seeing that the Emperor appeared unconcerned by the incident, the two wet nurses finally breathed sighs of relief. It seemed that their master truly cherished and doted on the princess, and they knew in their hearts that they had indeed attached themselves to the right person.
For the palace maids and eunuchs serving the imperial household, those assigned to attend to consorts always hoped that their mistresses would gain the Emperor’s favor, and ideally give birth to princes or princesses, and eventually be raised to higher ranks. Only when their master was in a strong and favored position could their own circumstances and lives become more secure and comfortable.
For those who served the young princes and princesses, the most important thing was that their young masters and mistresses survive and grow up safely. In the past, the sons born to Concubines Magiya and Nara had both been greatly favored. Of course, the most beloved of all had been the Second Prince, born to the Empress herself.
Yet regardless of how favored these children had been, none of them had lived long enough to reach adulthood. The servants who had attended them were dismissed from service on charges of failing in their duties, and those who had been closest to the children were now living in difficult conditions, while those who had not served directly were sent back to the Imperial Household Department to await new assignments.
When Nurses Zhang and Zhao had first learned that they were to be assigned to care for the Eldest Princess, who had been brought into the palace from the residence of Prince Gong, they had been filled with anxiety and unease. None of the children born within the palace had survived in recent years, and if this princess were to pass away while under their care, they knew that as her primary nurses, they would surely face severe punishment and meet with a terrible fate.
But now, seeing that the princess had always enjoyed good health, and that everyone in the palace—from the Emperor and the Empress to the two Empresses Dowager—treated her with such affection and favor, they knew that their futures were secure. All they needed to do was to devote themselves fully to taking good care of the princess.
Having bitten the man who had mocked her inability to eat solid food, Yiqing felt her anger and frustration fade away. She glanced over the document once more, then reluctantly placed it on Kangxi’s knee, as it was far beyond her reach to put it back on the table herself.
This action came as something of a surprise to Kangxi. He had assumed that she had taken the document because she wished to tear it apart, as many children seemed to enjoy the sound of paper being ripped into pieces.
Yiqing’s thoughts had already turned elsewhere. She found herself feeling somewhat troubled. In her previous life, she had spent more than twenty years reading simplified Chinese characters. While she could generally recognize traditional characters when they appeared in complete words or phrases, she could not always identify them when they stood alone.
Would she have to learn to recognize and write characters all over again? She also had other concerns.
When she began learning to write properly, would she accidentally leave out strokes when writing traditional characters? She also wondered how difficult it would be to master calligraphy using a writing brush. The characters written in the document she had just examined were of excellent quality, and if she could write as well as that once she had learned, she would be perfectly content.
Seeing that Yiqing had truly lost interest in the document, Kangxi returned it to its proper place on the table.
He looked down at her and saw that she was playing happily and contentedly on his lap, so he returned to his work and continued reviewing documents. He still had many papers to read, and routine documents sent to pay respects and report on local matters always required a response. For officials serving outside the capital, written reports were their main means of communicating with the Emperor. If their reports were left unanswered for long periods, they would naturally begin to feel uneasy and uncertain of their standing.
When Yiqing looked up again, she saw that Kangxi was holding her securely with one arm while reading documents and writing with the other. From her position, she could not see what he was writing, but she could clearly see that his hand was steady and firm as he held the brush and moved it across the paper.
After crawling and exploring the hall for quite some time, Yiqing began to feel drowsy. Lying comfortably on Kangxi’s lap, she slowly closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. This was one of the great advantages of being a small child—she could fall asleep whenever she felt tired, and no one would ever think it strange or inappropriate.
After Kangxi had reviewed and responded to two or three more documents, he lowered his head to see what Yiqing was doing and found her fast asleep, her face calm and peaceful.
When she was awake, she was rarely still, always eager to crawl about and examine everything within her reach. Yet when she slept, she was perfectly well-behaved and quiet. Prince Changning was a handsome man, and his consort was also said to be beautiful, so it was only natural that their daughter should be lovely as well. She did not particularly resemble Prince Changning, yet she was exceptionally beautiful.
Thinking of this, Kangxi felt a quiet sense of satisfaction and delight. It would be best if she grew to look more like him. Both he and Prince Changning were sons of the former Emperor, and if Prince Changning’s children bore a resemblance to their father or their grandmothers, it was only natural that this little girl might also share features with him.
As these thoughts passed through his mind, he did not delay in his actions. He called Nurse Zhao over and gently placed the sleeping child into her arms, instructing her to take Yiqing away to rest properly.
It was far more comfortable and safe to sleep in a proper bed. If she remained in his arms, there was always a chance that he might make a sudden movement without realizing it and accidentally wake her.
As soon as Nurse Zhao took hold of her, Yiqing stirred slightly in her sleep.
Watching the nurse carry the child away, Kangxi lowered his head once more and turned his attention back to the documents spread across his desk.
Palace of Lasting Spring
Concubine Magiya walked slowly through the courtyard, supported by her maidservant, her hands resting gently on her swollen belly. She was now in the seventh or eighth month of her pregnancy, and the birth was expected within the next one or two months. The imperial physicians had instructed her to walk and exercise daily to ensure that the delivery would proceed smoothly and without complications.
Her two previous sons had both died in infancy, leaving Concubine Magiya with a heavy weight of sorrow and fear in her heart. She looked down at her rounded stomach, her expression filled with confusion and uncertainty.
“Your Ladyship, you still need to walk two more laps,” Xiyan said softly, reminding her mistress carefully.
As the time of delivery drew closer, Concubine Magiya’s mood became increasingly fragile and prone to sadness. Her mind was constantly filled with thoughts of the two children she had lost, and even before this new baby was born, she was already living in fear that she might suffer the same pain and loss once more.
Hearing her maid’s reminder, Concubine Magiya continued walking slowly.
“Xiyan, tell me—do you think this child I am carrying is a prince or a princess?” she asked, her voice sounding distant and uncertain.
When she was alone with her thoughts, she often wondered if her children might survive if they were girls. Both of her previous children had been boys, and during this pregnancy, people had remarked that her features had become more delicate and refined. Her skin, far from becoming rough or blemished, had grown even smoother, softer, and fairer than before.
Even her own mother, who had come to visit her in the palace, had said that she was most likely carrying a daughter. Concubine Magiya had begun to cherish this hope in her heart. Perhaps she was destined to have daughters, and perhaps a little girl would be able to survive and grow up safely.
In the early days of her marriage, she might have wished for a son to secure her position and status within the imperial household. But now, her only wish was that this child might be born healthy and live a long, happy life.
“It will surely be a princess,” Xiyan said with a smile, knowing exactly what her mistress wished to hear. “Perhaps she will grow up to be as beloved and favored as the Eldest Princess herself.”
They had already heard the news that the Emperor had taken the Eldest Princess to live with him in the Palace of Heavenly Purity. This was something that had never happened before, which was why the story had spread so quickly. When Concubine Magiya had heard of it, she had immediately thought how wonderful it would be if her own child could one day receive such affection and favor.
These words were exactly what Concubine Magiya longed to hear. She stroked her belly gently, her neck held gracefully, and her eyes shining with hope and anticipation. As she imagined what her daughter might look like in the future, a soft smile spread across her face, making her already beautiful features even more radiant and charming.
Seeing her mistress smile, Xiyan felt a great sense of relief. Since becoming pregnant, Concubine Magiya had often been weighed down by worry and sadness, and the imperial physicians had warned that a troubled and unhappy state of mind could harm both her health and that of the child. It was only when people told her that she was carrying a daughter that her spirits lifted and her mood improved.
Everyone serving in the Palace of Lasting Spring had been given strict instructions that whenever their mistress asked about the child, they must always say that she was expecting a little girl.
In the middle of the night, Yiqing suddenly felt as though her entire body was burning with heat, and she felt unbearably hot and uncomfortable.
The wet nurses always wrapped her in thick, warm bedding, tucking her in tightly to keep her secure. It was still springtime, and the nights were cold and damp. They were determined to ensure that she never caught a chill, knowing full well that if she fell ill, they would be held responsible and punished.
Yiqing struggled for quite some time, but she was unable to free herself from the heavy layers of blankets and covers. Suddenly, she felt a deep sense of grievance and distress—her body ached and burned, while her heart was filled with sadness and frustration—and she began to cry loudly.
“Waaaaah—”
This was very different from the loud but dry cries she usually made when she was pretending to be upset. This time, she was truly suffering and miserable, and she wept with genuine sorrow. Large tears rolled down her cheeks and soaked into the bedding beneath her.
Nurse Zhao, who was on duty that night, had been dozing lightly, but as soon as she heard the princess crying, she woke immediately.
Caring for this princess was generally an easy task. She rarely made trouble during the night and always slept soundly through until morning. For her to be crying in the middle of the night was a sign that something was very wrong, and Nurse Zhao immediately felt a sense of dread.
After lighting the oil lamp and bringing it from the outer room into the bedroom, Nurse Zhao quickly reached out and touched Yiqing’s cheek. The intense heat radiating from the child’s skin made her tremble with fear.
High fever was the most dangerous illness for young children, and many children in the palace had lost their lives to this very condition. The thought that the princess might suffer the same fate made Nurse Zhao feel as though the sky itself was falling down around her ears. As the nurse responsible for watching over her that night, she knew that she would be severely punished if anything happened to the child.
“Quick, someone come quickly!” Nurse Zhao called out loudly. “The princess has a fever—hurry and send for the imperial physicians immediately!”
At that moment, she cared nothing for the fact that they were in the Emperor’s own residence. Her only thought was that help must be brought as quickly as possible.
Within moments, the entire Palace of Heavenly Purity was lit up with lanterns and lamps, and Liang Jiagong was sent to wake the Emperor.
It was still two hours before Kangxi usually rose to begin his day, and being awakened at such an hour gave him a throbbing headache. He spoke with clear irritation and impatience as he asked, “What is it?”
“Your Majesty,” Liang Jiagong said, his voice trembling with anxiety, “the princess has developed a high fever.”
He knew full well how deeply the Emperor and the Grand Empress Dowager cherished the princess. If they were to lose her as well, regardless of how many rumors and discussions might arise among officials and the general public, the emotional blow alone would be almost unbearable for the imperial family.
The grogginess and drowsiness vanished instantly from Kangxi’s mind, and his eyes became sharp and alert as he looked directly at Liang Jiagong. “Have the physicians been summoned?”
“They have already been sent for,” Liang Jiagong replied, his voice gradually regaining its composure.
Kangxi did not even take the time to change his clothes properly, throwing a robe over his shoulders as he hurried toward the side hall.
Yiqing was now delirious from the fever, her consciousness shifting between moments of clarity and confusion. Her whole body felt weak and painful, burning hot to the touch, while her head and limbs throbbed with discomfort.
She was too young to explain what she was feeling, and all she could do was cry and wail to express her distress and discomfort.
Nurses Zhao and Zhang were soaked with sweat from worry and exertion, and they constantly sent people to check on how far the physicians had come and to urge them to hurry.
When Kangxi entered the room, he saw that Yiqing was already barely conscious, and a deep frown appeared on his face as he was overcome with concern and fear.
Nurse Zhang tried to soothe and comfort the child gently, while Kangxi stood by, his brow furrowed in worry. Every cry that escaped the child’s lips felt like a sharp thorn piercing his heart.
When the imperial physician received the urgent summons from the Palace of Heavenly Purity, he immediately set off with two assistants, hurrying as fast as his legs could carry him.
Fortunately, the imperial medical office was located much closer to the Palace of Heavenly Purity than to the other residences in the inner palace, and it took less than half an hour for Physician Zhang Huazhi to arrive, breathless and out of breath from rushing.
Seeing that the Emperor himself was standing beside the child, Physician Zhang’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly bowed low to pay his respects. “I offer my greetings to Your Majesty.”
“This is no time for such formalities and empty courtesies,” Kangxi said urgently. “Come quickly and examine the princess and tell me what is wrong.”
Physician Zhang inwardly lamented his situation. He was not particularly skilled in treating illnesses in young children, and he could only hope and pray that this was nothing more than a common cold or minor ailment.
He placed his fingers gently on Yiqing’s small wrist to feel her pulse. Yiqing, though still feeling unwell and confused, understood that the physician was there to help her, and she did not struggle or resist. Instead, she held her hand steady so that he could examine her pulse properly.
After feeling her pulse for a short while, Physician Zhang felt a great sense of relief. This was a common condition caused by exposure to cold air and wind, and it was one of the easiest illnesses to treat. The only difficulty was that the princess was still very young, so he would have to carefully adjust the dosage of the medicine to ensure that it was safe yet still effective.
“Your Majesty,” Physician Zhang said as he stood up, “the princess has been exposed to cold and wind, which has entered her body and caused a conflict between her natural energy and the invading illness, resulting in fever. She should be given a dose of Ephedra Decoction, and she must be kept warm and protected from drafts. For the next few days, she should not be exposed to wind or cold, and with proper care and rest, she will soon recover.”
Hearing these words, Kangxi felt a heavy weight lift from his heart. He had read several medical texts and had some basic understanding of medicine and healing, so he understood exactly what the physician had said.
“Prepare the prescription and collect the medicine immediately,” Kangxi ordered. “Make sure everyone attending to her is careful and attentive. Take good care of the princess, and remember that she must not be exposed to any wind or cold for the next two days.”
Physician Zhang went to write out the prescription, then hurried to the imperial pharmacy to collect the ingredients and return with them so that the nurses could prepare the medicine.
By this time, Yiqing’s head no longer felt as heavy or painful as before. Though she still had a slight fever, she had stopped crying and making noise, and she had fallen into a deep, restful sleep.
By now, it was also time for Kangxi to attend the morning court assembly.