In the main hall of Cining Palace, calming incense curled up from the gilded beast-shaped censer, its fragrance elegant and soothing.
The Empress Dowager had just emerged from the inner chamber, supported by Shan Shui, when she saw the two young ones walking in side by side. A warm, kindly smile spread across her face. “Come, let’s eat. I haven’t kept you on a tight leash these past few days—have you two little monkeys finally had your fill of fun?”
Anning stepped forward eagerly and took the Empress Dowager’s arm. “Not at all, Empress Dowager. Have you forgotten something important?”
Shan Shui stepped back, hiding a smile behind her hand as she turned to arrange the dishes on the dining table.
“Oh?” The Empress Dowager chuckled, letting the young girl support her as the two walked slowly toward the table. “What could I possibly have forgotten?”
“You’re about to celebrate your birthday—that’s a momentous occasion.” Anning quickly reminded her, her voice clear and bright. “Countless people inside and outside the palace are quietly busy preparing for your celebration. I haven’t been idle at all.”
The Empress Dowager laughed out loud at this. “Everyone else is hiding it from me, afraid I’ll find out early. But you—you just have to spoil it. So tell me, what have you prepared?”
Anning wrinkled her little nose. “Why are you asking around like that? There’ll be no surprise on your birthday then.”
She then relaxed her brows, looking cheerful and delighted. “When it’s your birthday, of course you want to secretly peek at what others have prepared for you. That way, even though the day hasn’t arrived yet, every day leading up to it is filled with anticipation, and your heart feels sweet.”
“You’re scolding me now, are you?” The Empress Dowager pinched Anning’s plump little cheek. “Well then, you’d better not disappoint me.”
Anning immediately pulled a sour face. “Why did you suddenly get so serious? You’re deliberately trying to scare me.”
In private at Cining Palace, the Empress Dowager rarely referred to herself as “this dowager.” She was advanced in years and didn’t stand on such ceremonial dignity. But now she deliberately brought out the formal “this dowager” to tease Anning, and Anning quickly responded with “your subject” to show her deference.
Your subject?
The Empress Dowager raised an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over the Third Prince.
Manchus never called themselves “subjects”—they took pride in calling themselves “slaves.” Still, there was nothing wrong with Anning’s usage, especially since the Emperor had grown quite fond of Han Chinese culture in recent years, even attending their banquets himself.
“I shouldn’t tease you—what if I scare you too much?” The Empress Dowager’s face was full of loving smiles as she raised a hand to gently pat Anning’s head.
Anning secretly wiped her forehead and let out a breath of relief.
Ever since she’d learned that the Empress Dowager was only after the power behind the Hesheri family, Anning hadn’t been as wholehearted toward her. But she wasn’t good at pretending, so her mother had told her to act the way she did when trying to win over her grandfather at home. Now that the Empress Dowager was smiling, it was clear the approach had worked!
The Empress Dowager’s smile gradually faded as she spoke. “A birthday is indeed a happy occasion, but some people can’t help but use the pretense of tribute to line their own pockets. Those people—their faces smile all clean and proper, but inside they’re nothing but filth and corruption.”
She was referring to officials embezzling bribes and squeezing the people dry—a serious matter indeed.
Anning looked up. “Let the Emperor punish them.”
“Of course they should be punished, but corruption is like creeping weeds—cut one layer and another grows, and there’s always a deeper layer hidden beneath.” The Empress Dowager took Anning’s little hand, and the three of them sat down in turn. “The Emperor has been run ragged dealing with this lately, and on top of that, the Imperial Noble Consort has fallen ill, adding even more to his burdens.”
Anning chimed in with a question. “What illness does the Imperial Noble Consort have? It sounds quite serious.” Her eyes, however, kept roaming over the dining table—she’d already decided what her first bite would be.
She’d been eyeing the plate of braised tofu with minced meat for a while now, but since the Empress Dowager and the Prince hadn’t picked up their chopsticks yet, she couldn’t eat first. That was the rule, because she wasn’t an imperial princess.
A hand reached over and scooped up a spoonful of minced meat with the sauce.
Anning was momentarily startled and followed the hand with her eyes—it was the Third Prince.
He added two pieces of tofu, then used the spoon to mix the minced meat, tofu, and rice together evenly before gently placing the bowl beside her hand.
They’d been eating together for so long that he knew her dining habits well.
Anning quietly cupped the small bowl, the slight warmth of it pressing through the porcelain against her fingertips.
The Empress Dowager naturally noticed this too. She had been about to say something, but paused.
“The Imperial Noble Consort is a jealous woman. Concubine Tang is with child, and she couldn’t let it go—she brooded over it until her health suffered.” The Empress Dowager’s tone was grave. “How can a woman like that bear great responsibility? The Emperor stooped low enough to personally attend to her at Chengqian Palace, yet she locked him out of her doors. Thank heavens she isn’t the mother of the nation, or she’d have thrown the entire harem into chaos. And if the harem is unstable, how can the Emperor focus on governing?”
The Empress Dowager had openly aired the private affairs of the harem, and Anning was startled.
The Empress Dowager’s gaze kept shifting between Anning and the Third Prince. Then, in a heavy tone, she called out directly, “Anning, what do you think?”
Anning immediately withdrew her hands and didn’t dare hold the bowl anymore. “I…” She was at a loss, unable to understand why the Empress Dowager would ask her about harem matters.
“Imperial Grandmother—”
“Xuanye, let her speak!”
“In two months, it will be your fifth birthday. Even if you learned nothing at the Hesheri estate, you’ve been in the palace for half a year now. Have you made any progress at all?” Still the same act—raise one’s voice at her even slightly, and she looks ready to cry.
The Empress Dowager frowned slightly, her eyes scrutinizing.
Anning knew full well that everyone in this palace spoke honeyed words to those above and sharp words to those below—each and every one of them putting on a show.
Anning pinched her fingers hard, speaking in a halting, cautious manner. “To be Empress, one must be magnanimous and cannot monopolize one’s husband.”
She couldn’t bring herself to speak ill of the Imperial Noble Consort, so this was the best she could manage.
Third Prince’s fair face remained as expressionless as ever, revealing neither joy nor anger, but the hand resting on his knee clenched tightly.
At those words, the Empress Dowager finally relaxed her furrowed brow, a hint of satisfied smile appearing as her tone grew heavier. “So you see, Donggo could never be Empress.”
“She is one who fails to consider the greater picture, acting solely on petty feminine impulses.” She cast a sidelong glance at Third Prince before her gaze settled on Anning’s face. “Anning, you too will one day marry. In the future, you must not behave in such a manner.”
The words grated on Anning’s ears, but she dared not show it. She could only feign obedience and nod. “Anning understands.”
By the time the meal was finished, night had begun to fall, the last wisp of light at the horizon swallowed by ink-blue darkness.
After keeping the Empress Dowager company in conversation for a while, the two took their leave together.
Upon returning to the side hall, Third Prince spoke first:
“What the Empress Dowager said just now—don’t take it to heart. Just let it pass.” His expression was slightly somber, as if lost in thought.
Anning was never one to keep things bottled up inside. The moment she returned to the side hall, tears came pouring out in a torrent. “The Imperial Noble Consort falling ill wasn’t her choice! Besides, it was the Emperor himself who insisted on going to Chengqian Palace to look after her—if he was turned away at the door, he deserved it! The Imperial Noble Consort’s child had only just passed away, and he was already off seeking pleasure with other consorts. Isn’t the Imperial Noble Consort pitiful? The Empress Dowager asked for my opinion! If such a thing happened to me, I would hate him to death and never see him again even if I died!”
“Anning!” Third Prince’s expression turned startled as he suddenly grasped her hand. “Don’t speak nonsense!”
Anning felt so wronged that the sky might as well have been falling. She buried herself in his chest, and remembering the words First Princess had sent Suyun to deliver, she couldn’t help but sob. “They’re all bullying me! What did I do wrong?”
Third Prince’s hand, which had been soothing the back of her neck, paused. “Who else?”
Anning told him everything through her sniffles.
He cupped her small face in his hands, his expression earnest. “You did very well. Even though you didn’t understand the trap hidden in Suyun’s words, you didn’t act rashly. And just now in the main hall, when the Empress Dowager was harsh with you, you held back your tears and responded appropriately. No one could have done better than you. If the Empress Dowager says you haven’t improved, it’s only because she hasn’t seen your merits.”
Her sobbing gradually quieted. She rubbed her eyes and asked pitifully, “Really?”
“Of course it’s true.” He wiped away her tears and coaxed her gently. “Don’t cry anymore.”
“In this palace, only Third Brother treats me well. If I cry, will you feel sorry for me?” Anning said listlessly.
“I would.” He stroked her small face, especially touched that she was sensible enough not to cry loudly, holding back her sobs for fear of being heard. “But I must not be treating you well enough, or else why would you be crying?”
Anning’s heart softened, and she unconsciously rose onto her tiptoes. “Hug.”
He immediately wrapped his arms around her gently. Once was practice, twice was familiarity, and by now his movements were no longer awkward—he wished he could soothe her completely in an instant.
The two embraced in their youthfulness, her face buried against his shoulder as she said in a muffled voice, “Why did the Empress Dowager say those things to me? It’s so strange.”
Hearing this, Third Prince found himself at a loss for words.
He didn’t respond, but Anning continued anyway.
“I almost couldn’t hold it in just now. She treats the Imperial Noble Consort that way, and then says such things right in front of you—what does she mean by it? Does she want both of us to hate the Imperial Noble Consort? But I don’t see her treating Consort Tong all that well either! She wouldn’t even let her out during New Year’s, and she just keeps pulling you aside… When it comes down to it, it’s all the Emperor’s fault!” These words were nothing short of sharp-tongued, taking a jab at everyone in sight.
Third Prince was silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a soft laugh.
Anning looked around in every direction, confirming that the two of them were alone, and asked in confusion, “What are you laughing at?”
He didn’t answer why he was laughing. Instead, his expression turned serious. “From now on, if there are any more words like these, you may only say them to me. Do you understand?”
Anning pulled back from his embrace and looked at him. “Aren’t you angry?”
“Angry about what?”
“I said things that were greatly disrespectful to the Empress Dowager and the Emperor.”
“What you said made perfect sense.”
Indeed, he felt no displeasure. It was as if Anning had shed her obedient exterior before him, revealing the shattered expectations beneath, leaving only raw truth—and before surprise could even surface, a strange sense of satisfaction and longing for closeness arrived first.
In this square-walled palace where everyone fawned and groveled before their superiors, only the two of them shared a resonance of thought.
They were both loved imperfectly, and therefore could not offer pure devotion in return—sometimes even harboring bitter thoughts.
The two of them were meant to be on the same side.
In that moment, he felt a surge of desire to confide in her—including the dark thoughts that lurked within his own heart.
Anning was slightly dazed, staring at Third Prince’s face for a long while before suddenly asking, “Third Brother, are you also blaming the Emperor?”
The question came abruptly, and Third Prince looked at her with curiosity. “How can you tell?”
“You never call him Imperial Father in my presence, nor do you call the Empress Dowager Grandmother. You only address Consort Tong as Mother. I thought perhaps you disliked them.”
He smiled again, and amid her puzzled gaze, said, “Then you’ve thought wrong. How could a person’s likes and dislikes be so simple?”
“I do hold resentment toward the Emperor, but I do not dislike the Empress Dowager.”
Third Prince spoke almost casually, his words betraying no clear preference or aversion. “When I was young, I was sent out of the palace to avoid smallpox. In the days after I recovered, Sumalagu, who served the Empress Dowager, rode back and forth daily between Cining Palace and my residence. She not only took charge of my daily care but also personally taught me the Manchu language. She was my first teacher. Had the Empress Dowager not given the order, I would not have had any of this.”
“So you’re only grateful to her, but you don’t like her either?” Anning felt she wasn’t wrong in saying so.
Third Prince admitted it outright. “You’re right. She treated me well because there was something to gain—she hoped I would be someone easier to control than the Emperor, someone who would listen to her. I am grateful, but that is all.”
“I resent the Emperor because he used my mother as a tool to win over the Han-martial banners and balance the court. I was merely an appendage, destined never to be favored by him. In his heart, there is only Fourth Brother.”
—”He says Fourth Brother is his first son. Then what am I? How could I not resent him?”
Every word, every sentence, laid bare without reservation.
Third Prince stared at Anning’s face without shifting his gaze an inch, his pitch-black pupils reflecting her hesitant little face, as if trying to discern a trace of contempt or surprise.
Anning simply listened.
After a long while, under his watchful gaze, she wiped the corner of her eye, then assumed a solemn, grave expression. “That’s fine, then.”
“What?”
“This way, Third Brother belongs to me alone.” She lifted her chin with demure pride, speaking as if it were only natural. “Everyone else has ill intentions, but I’m different. My feelings for you are sincere, with no other purpose.”
“…”
Third Prince seemed taken aback by her words, yet no displeasure arose in him.
He kept staring at her, then let out a short laugh and said with a strange tone, “How can you be so wicked?”
Author’s note:
Here it is.