Tong Jiaying had no desire to think about Wuya Shi or the future Yongzheng Emperor at the moment—those were all things of the past.
“Your Majesty, I was merely expressing ordinary concern for her, nothing more.” As for the Original Host’s wish to raise the A-ge born to Consort Wu, Tong Jiaying wouldn’t even mention it. She wasn’t a nanny; she had no experience caring for pregnant women or children. Besides, she felt that staying far away from these people was the safest course of action.
If possible, she wanted to ask Kangxi to let her take her attendants and live permanently in Changchun Garden. She could spend her entire life there, never returning to the palace.
Kangxi gave Tong Jiaying a meaningful look. If she said there was nothing, then he would take it as nothing. “Very well, I shall dine with you,” he said, leading Tong Jiaying to sit opposite him on the kang.
Tong Jiaying’s conversation with Kangxi had lasted only about half the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, so the dishes on the fine-toothed table were still warm. She thought it would be fine to eat them as they were, but for a moment, she felt puzzled by the look Feiyu shot her way.
Feiyu’s heart was practically in her throat. How could her mistress serve the Emperor such simple, cold dishes? If word got out and the Grand Empress Dowager and Empress Dowager found out, her mistress would surely face a scolding.
Tong Jiaying had no experience interacting with an emperor in a feudal society. Even with the Original Host’s memories, they felt hazy and distant, like viewing flowers through a mist. As for letting Kangxi eat her food, she thought the several meat dishes, vegetable dishes, and soup were comparable to a meal at an outside restaurant. Sharing them with Kangxi seemed perfectly fine.
Feiyu immediately signaled Shuangyu with her eyes to go to the small kitchen. Before long, several freshly stir-fried dishes were brought out.
Only then did Tong Jiaying realize that the Emperor’s meals were a matter of great ceremony. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she explained, “Your Majesty, I’ve been ill these past few days, and my mind has been muddled from the fever. Please forgive my oversight.” Ah, she had forgotten she was now a person of humble status. While she felt the dishes were sufficient, Kangxi was not like her—he was the Emperor. She had heard that a proper meal for him required at least twenty or thirty dishes.
Kangxi thought Tong Jiaying was not only muddled but also a bit slow-witted. Recalling the imperial physician’s report that her high fever had nearly turned her into a fool, and that she was fortunate to have survived, he didn’t mind this minor lapse.
“It’s of no consequence. I have already dined and am merely keeping my Cousin company for a few bites,” Kangxi said. Seeing that Tong Jiaying had corrected herself, he felt somewhat more satisfied with her. Originally, he had only intended to stop by for a look, but now he decided to stay the night.
Tong Jiaying thanked Kangxi and immediately picked up her spoon to eat. Her stomach was completely empty; she hadn’t eaten properly for days and now felt an urgent need for carbohydrates and protein. However, the Original Host’s body was delicate and frail. She couldn’t indulge in reckless eating and drinking as she might have in her own body; it had to be a gradual process.
Since Kangxi was staying the night, he naturally wouldn’t expect Tong Jiaying, still unwell, to attend to him in bed. He wasn’t that kind of lustful man. He had the palace maids prepare the Xi Nuange for him to stay in that night.
In the side room of the West Side Hall, Gu Wen Xing was enjoying steaming hot fresh shrimp meatballs and a bowl of chicken soup kept warm on a small charcoal stove, with two chicken legs inside. This had been prepared by Feng Yuan, the chief eunuch of Chengqian Palace, who also brought along two young eunuchs to attend to him personally.
“Stay close to your master.” After eating and drinking his fill, Gu Wenxing looked at his young apprentice and arranged a good opportunity for him. If he couldn’t seize it, then it would be his own lack of fortune.
Feng Yuan massaged Gu Wenxing’s shoulders and assured him, “Master, rest assured, this humble servant will certainly listen to you.” He then escorted Gu Wenxing back to his own side room.
The next day, Kangxi rose early and left without notifying Tong Jiaying. It was only upon arriving at Qianqing Palace that he instructed Gu Wenxing to remember to summon the head of the Imperial Hospital to check Tong Jiaying’s pulse.
With the Successor Empress gone, the palace was left without an empress, and the rules of morning and evening courtesies to the empress naturally fell into abeyance.
The Grand Empress Dowager was someone who disliked crowds. Even when the Successor Empress was alive, she only led the imperial consorts to Cining Palace to pay respects to the Grand Empress Dowager every fifth day.
Following the Grand Empress Dowager’s example, the Empress Dowager naturally did the same. As a result, the daily ritual of paying respects in the palace was suspended, becoming a once-every-five-days affair.
Now, with no empress again, Tong Jiaying, as the Noble Consort, should have taken on this responsibility. However, she had fallen ill once more, leaving the matter of paying respects unresolved.
Seeing that today was the day to pay respects to the Grand Empress Dowager and the Empress Dowager, yet with no one to lead them, the imperial consorts grew somewhat anxious.
None of this concerned Tong Jiaying. As she was ill, both the Grand Empress Dowager and the Empress Dowager had exempted her from paying respects. When she awoke, it was already broad daylight, likely well past the hour of Chen.
As soon as she woke, Shuangyu entered with several young palace maids to attend to her. “Mistress, you look much better today. Shall we do your hair and makeup?”
“No, my head still hurts a bit.” Tong Jiaying knew this was because she hadn’t fully digested the memories of the Original Host. After all, over a decade of memories couldn’t be sorted out in just two or three days—even watching a movie would take a long time.
Hearing this, Shuangyu’s face showed concern. “This servant will ask Feng Yuan to summon an imperial physician for you.” This was no small matter; her mistress’s illness had come on fiercely and nearly taken her life.
Tong Jiaying stopped Shuangyu from leaving. “No need, it’ll be fine in a few days.” She didn’t want another bowl of that unbearably bitter traditional medicine.
Seeing her mistress like this, Shuangyu felt helpless, assuming that after narrowly escaping death, her mistress had become overly cautious.
“Then this servant will find you a brighter-colored garment to wear. It might lift your spirits.”
Tong Jiying changed into a peach-red satin changyi embroidered with interlocking chrysanthemum patterns. Her waist-length hair was casually tied into a bun as usual, secured at the back of her head with a white jade chrysanthemum hairpin.
After forcing down half a bowl of rice porridge, Tong Jiaying endured the nausea and gulped down a bowl of dark brown traditional medicine. She then hurriedly popped two cloyingly sweet preserved fruits into her mouth.
When Sumalagu arrived, she saw Tong Jiaying’s expression of utter despair and was immediately startled.
“Auntie Suma.” Shuangyu quickly stood up to bow. Sumalagu was the most capable person by the Grand Empress Dowager’s side; even The Emperor would greet her when they met.
Tong Jiaying stood up, preparing to greet her.
Sumalagu reached out and gently pressed Tong Jiaying back onto the couch. “Noble Consort, please lie down and rest properly.”
Sumalagu had a round face and looked like a very amiable elderly lady. Tong Jiaying knew a little about her: she was someone who had weathered storms alongside the Grand Empress Dowager and was certainly not to be underestimated.
“Auntie, please have a seat.” It never hurts to be polite, so Tong Jiaying quickly invited Sumalagu to sit down. Every time she saw someone coming to visit her during her illness, she wished she could just go back home. If she were at her own home and fell ill, everyone would only express their concern and ask after her well-being—not like now, where even when sick, she had to muster her energy to deal with all sorts of people and matters.
Sumalagu sat on the sandalwood rosewood chair brought over by Shuangyu, which was cushioned with a fragrant imperial-colored brocade seat and backrest.
“The Grand Empress Dowager is concerned about Your Highness and specifically sent this servant to visit you.” Sumalagu spoke slowly, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at Tong Jiaying.
For a moment, Tong Jiaying didn’t quite react—Sumalagu had just spoken in Mongolian, her pace slightly slower than when she spoke Chinese earlier. Fortunately, the Original Host knew Mongolian, or else she wouldn’t have understood what Sumalagu was saying.