Tong Jiaying was still immersed in the joy of how many flowers she could plant when Feiyu’s words struck her like a sudden blow.
“What about her?” Tong Jiaying had previously avoided seeing her precisely because she feared infecting a pregnant woman.
Feiyu’s expression turned somewhat unpleasant. “I heard that Consort Wu has caught a cold.” According to the Imperial Hospital, Consort Wu’s symptoms were somewhat similar to those of the mistress—both had fever and headaches.
Tong Jiaying instinctively said, “This has nothing to do with me, right? I didn’t even see her before!” It definitely wasn’t her who spread the illness, but she still felt a faint unease in her heart.
After all, Consort Wu was pregnant.
Feiyu felt the timing of this incident was too coincidental. Consort Wu had just visited Chengqian Palace, and immediately afterward, she fell ill with symptoms similar to the mistress’s.
It was almost as if someone was directly implying that the mistress had passed the illness to her.
If only they had refused Consort Wu entry back then and simply sent her away at the palace gate.
“It definitely has nothing to do with the mistress!”
“The mistress didn’t even see her, and it’s been several days already!” Shuangyu had just finished discussing the mistress’s plans with Feng Yuan and returned to hear Feiyu’s words. Her face flushed with anger as she spoke resentfully.
This Consort Wu was truly not a good person!
The mistress clearly wasn’t receiving guests, yet she insisted on coming over, bringing self-made pouches and forehead warmers as gifts. As if the mistress didn’t have her own embroiderers! Why must a pregnant woman go to such trouble?
Feiyu was slightly more composed than Shuangyu. “I’m worried that someone might use this as an excuse.” She wasn’t concerned that the mistress had infected Consort Wu; rather, she feared that someone might seize this opportunity to target the mistress.
Tong Jiaying dug deep into the Original Host’s memories, trying to recall anything related to Consort Wu. She remembered that Consort Wu was the one who gave birth to the Yongzheng Emperor, and since Yongzheng was born this year, nothing major should happen, right?
Feiyu observed the mistress’s expression shift from thoughtful to troubled, then finally relax with relief.
“Mistress, I think we still need to be cautious about this matter,” Feiyu suggested. Although the mistress had already abandoned her “grand ambitions,” she still encountered such incidents.
First, there was the issue with the phoenix hairpin sent by the Neiwufu, which had been handed over to The Emperor with no news yet.
Now, Consort Wu had fallen ill.
Tong Jiaying nodded, her eyes somewhat gloomy. To be honest, she really had no intention of engaging in any “palace intrigue” here.
“Keep a close watch with Aunt Fang and Feng Yuan. If anything happens, report it immediately, and we’ll discuss how to handle it,” Tong Jiaying said. Since arriving here, she had either been ill or recuperating. More than half a month had passed, and she still hadn’t stepped beyond the gates of Chengqian Palace.
As soon as Feiyu left, Shuangyu spoke up again, “Mistress, I think Consort Wu did this on purpose. Seeing that she failed to ingratiate herself with you twice, she resorted to such a foolish trick.”
Consort Wu was definitely doing this intentionally. This way, people in the palace would not only link Consort Wu’s illness to the mistress but also blame the mistress if anything happened to the child in Consort Wu’s womb.
Tong Jiaying still leaned toward the idea that this was a coincidence. What pregnant woman would use her own child to frame an outsider? If something really went wrong, wouldn’t that be a loss outweighing the gain?
“Don’t think of people so badly. What if it’s just a coincidence?” Tong Jiaying wasn’t sure herself. Her thoughts were jumbled—the Qing palace novels she had read told her such things couldn’t be coincidences.
Yet her years of education and life experience told her this was most likely truly a coincidence.
Shuangyu didn’t share Tong Jiaying’s optimism, but her mistress had always been like this, never assuming the worst of others.
However, after these two incidents, she felt someone was genuinely targeting her mistress.
“Mistress, I… I’m just speculating…” Shuangyu lowered her voice, glanced around to ensure no one was nearby, then leaned close to Tong Jiaying’s ear and whispered, “Mistress, I think this might have been done by the Grand Empress Dowager.”
Tong Jiaying’s eyes widened instantly. She felt Shuangyu had given her a new perspective.
“Tell Feng Yuan to ask when The Emperor will be free?” Tong Jiaying said, then immediately corrected herself, feeling it wasn’t quite right. “Tell Feng Yuan to invite The Emperor, say I have something to discuss with him.”
Ah, that didn’t sound right either—as if she could summon Kangxi whenever she wanted to see him.
Never mind, the meaning was clear enough.
Shuangyu hurried off once more.
“The Noble Consort has something to discuss with me?” Kangxi was eating snacks when Gu Wen Xing relayed the message.
Having been busy since morning, Kangxi’s stomach had long been growling with hunger.
Gu Wen Xing bowed and replied, “This servant heard from Feng Yuan, who serves the Noble Consort, that Her Ladyship said she has something to speak with Your Majesty about. If Your Majesty is available, the Noble Consort will come personally to speak with you.”
Kangxi finished a bowl of fresh shrimp wontons, feeling about seventy percent full. He set down his silver spoon, took the handkerchief offered by a nearby palace maid, and wiped the corners of his mouth.
“Go tell the Noble Consort that I will join her for dinner later,” Kangxi said, feeling somewhat satisfied with his cousin’s changed temperament after her illness.
Seeing this, Gu Wen Xing promptly withdrew. It seemed the Noble Consort had truly regained The Emperor’s favor. When the Successor Empress passed away, The Emperor had been particularly displeased with the Noble Consort.
Yet the Noble Consort had acted as if blind, completely oblivious, going about her own affairs as usual.
Somehow, after falling ill, she seemed like a different person.
Though that naive streak of hers hadn’t completely disappeared.
And perhaps it was thanks to this that The Emperor had tolerated the Noble Consort for so long.
When The Emperor first brought the Noble Consort into the palace, it was to balance against the Successor Empress. Now that the Successor Empress was gone, leaving only the Noble Consort, he guessed The Emperor might soon elevate Consort An and the others.
After her stroll, Tong Jiaying retreated into her study. She needed to sort things out properly and couldn’t afford to wait any longer.
It was now April of the seventeenth year of Kangxi’s reign.
According to the Original Host’s memories, Consort Wu would give birth to the future Yongzheng Emperor at the end of October. After the birth, the future Yongzheng would be given to her to raise, and Consort Wu would be promoted to Guiren Wu.
Not long after, Guiren Wu would become pregnant again with her second son, ‘Yinzuo,’ and during an earthquake, she would save Kangxi, earning a promotion from Guiren Wu to Concubine De.
Later, by the twentieth year of Kangxi’s reign, she would be elevated to Consort De.
After that, she would become pregnant repeatedly, bearing Kangxi four more children.
In total, she gave birth to six children, but only three survived to adulthood.
In the end, the two remaining sons even turned against each other.
Tong Jiying bit the end of her pen, thinking about Consort Wu’s path of promotion. When she learned that the Original Host had memories of a previous life and had given up, she felt she absolutely must not “repeat the same mistakes” as the Original Host.
She had no intention of having close dealings with Consort Wu, nor did she plan to raise her child.
Her future was clearly visible; there was no need to take on unnecessary risks, such as raising a child, especially when the mortality rate was so high now.
What if she raised it and it died?
It wasn’t like raising flowers or plants.
You couldn’t just bring in a new one.