The palace lacked for nothing, least of all gossip.
Since that day, news of the Ninth Prince’s miraculous ant-viewing box had swiftly spread throughout the three main palaces and six side courts.
The tales grew increasingly fantastical.
By the time the first snowflake drifted over the Forbidden City, the story had evolved from “The Ninth Prince has a box for watching ants” to “The Ninth Prince possesses a treasure box that can predict celestial phenomena and dynastic fortunes by observing ant trails.”
When Lian Zhu vividly described these rumors to him, Yintang was eating the newly developed Double-Skin Milk and choked so hard a red bean shot out of his nose.
Yintang: …
If this continued, it might even reach Han Ama’s ears. Some might even accuse him of practicing witchcraft to disrupt the court.
Rumors cease with the wise, and Yintang felt it was time for him to take action.
In the side chamber of the eastern wing of Yikun Palace.
Yinzhen, Yinqi, and Yintang sat in a row on the floor.
The room was warmed by the floor heating system, and the ants in the glass box on the table remained active despite the winter chill, climbing up and down energetically.
Scattered around them were drawings and wooden boards.
Yintang held up a drawing with a large ant depicted, each body part labeled with horizontal lines.
After examining it carefully, he set it down satisfied and picked up another.
This one showed a cross-section of an ant nest, each chamber numbered and labeled: “Queen’s Egg-Laying Chamber,” “Nursery Chamber,” “Food Storage Chamber,” etc.
Though sketched with simple strokes, the ants and nest sprang vividly from the paper. The style still carried childishness but already hinted at a cool, detached elegance.
“Fourth Brother draws so well!” Yintang praised sincerely.
Not only were they lifelike, but he had also captured the ants’ forms with precise Chinese brushwork, making them perfect for educational purposes.
Truly worthy of the refined Emperor Yongzheng!
Yinzhen blushed slightly under his admiring gaze, lowering his head to look at the drawings. “As long as Ninth Brother is satisfied.”
Yinqi wasn’t idle either, humming a self-composed tune while molding clay into a recognizable ant head prototype.
One month later.
“Have you heard? Yikun Palace is allowing young princes and gege to enter and view that ant treasure box!”
“Yes, yes! They say only one spot is available daily, first come first served.”
“Exactly! I’ve been queuing for three days and still haven’t gotten a number.”
“My young master did get to see it once, but to enter again, you have to bring something rare.”
…
Such discussions could be heard everywhere among palace maids and eunuchs.
Consort Yi had been extremely busy lately. Each morning when she opened her eyes, Baofu would report the young prince or gege visiting that day – whoever had secured Yikun Palace’s daily visitor slot.
Somehow, her son’s glass ant box had become famous. For half a month now, queues formed early every morning outside Yikun Palace, with eunuchs and maids lining up to get numbers for their young masters.
Suddenly it seemed all the young princes and gege in the palace were flocking here, until even the stone steps at Yikun Palace’s entrance appeared worn thinner.
She truly couldn’t understand what was so fascinating about ants.
Yintang’s side chamber—she had been inside before. The decor was quite unique, though she wasn’t particularly interested in those grimy little insects.
But since her precious son loved them, what could she do? As his mother, she naturally had to support him.
Consort Yi paced back and forth in Yikun Palace, surveying the premises.
She needed to prepare more pastries in the small kitchen, move aside those easily knocked-over vases and jars—if the young princes and gege bumped into them, breaking the objects wouldn’t matter much, but if any of these golden branches and jade leaves got cut, it would be troublesome. And then there were the chief eunuchs accompanying visitors from other palaces—they couldn’t be treated lightly either, or she’d be criticized behind her back for lacking etiquette…
Fortunately, her brilliant son had come up with a clever idea: for the first visit, any prince or gege could enter as long as they secured that day’s token.
But if they wanted to come a second time, they had to either go through the Imperial Workshop or find their own means to bring some peculiar items according to his requirements.
Though she didn’t understand the purpose of those things, since it was Yintang’s idea, there must be logic behind it. Consort Yi remained as blindly trusting as ever of her precious son.
This arrangement also ensured fairness in the first round—offending no one—while later visits would be spaced out by the time required to prepare the requested items, giving her a few peaceful days.
Kangxi had been equally busy during this period.
He now dreaded seeing Garu, the Minister of the Imperial Household Department.
For some reason, petitions from the rear palace requesting visits to Yikun Palace had been flying into Qianqing Palace like Xue Hua. Every time Garu sought an audience, he carried a thick stack for Kangxi to approve with vermillion circles.
Though Kangxi didn’t support the Crown Prince or other princes and gege forming overly close associations, ordinary interactions between them were permissible. After all, no prince or gege would be shameless enough to visit someone’s palace daily.
But he seemed to have forgotten he had a Ninth Prince whose face was thicker than the walls of the Forbidden City.
While he could stop his ninth son from constantly going out, he couldn’t prevent everyone in the palace from taking turns visiting daily.
What’s worse, these princes and gege always had impeccably justified excuses:
“I recently acquired a Chinese primer for young children and wish to present it to Ninth Brother in person.” — This from Yinzhi.
“Ninth Brother commissioned a painting from me, so I’m delivering it to him.” — This from Yinzhen.
“Fifth Sister wants to meet Ninth Brother, so I’m taking her.” — This from Yinqi and Fifth Princess, whom the Empress Dowager had finally grown tired of and passed along.
“I’ve heard Ninth Brother is brilliantly adorable and would like to visit him.” — This from his little darling, Second Gege.
…
Kangxi closed the petition and looked at Garu. “Why has Yikun Palace become so popular lately?”
The ant observation box had been fired by the Imperial Workshop under the Imperial Household Department. Having already investigated the matter, Garu explained how the Ninth Prince had drawn a sketch and how the workshop had produced a glass container accordingly.
“Later, somehow, many princes in the palace heard about it—that the Ninth Prince possessed a magical ant box,” Garu said, secretly observing Kangxi’s expression. “And so the news spread.”
He selectively omitted the more outrageous rumors that followed, though he privately doubted their validity. The claims were fantastical—that the ant nest displayed nine tunnels with five chambers each, corresponding perfectly to the “nine-five” imperial symbolism.
A petition was thrown heavily at his feet.
Garu instinctively dropped to his knees.
“So it’s said that by observing the trails of ants, one can deduce celestial phenomena and know the rise and fall of dynasties?” Kangxi’s expression turned cold. “The Imperial Household Department should properly clarify and enforce palace regulations.”
This was implying that Garu had failed to manage the eunuchs and palace maids effectively, allowing them to gossip freely.
Clearly, even if Garu didn’t report it, the Emperor had his own sources of information.
Garu broke out in a cold sweat and kowtowed to accept the order.
“Rise.” Kangxi took a sip of tea, his expression softening slightly. “Among these memorials, why is there none from the Eldest Prince?”
When the Eldest Prince had previously left the palace to avoid smallpox, he had been raised in Garu’s residence. Although he had returned to the palace, it was only natural that the two still maintained contact, which Kangxi was aware of. However, since Garu was loyal and there was no political conspiracy between them, Kangxi turned a blind eye to it.
Garu had indeed asked Yinti why he didn’t go to Yikun Palace.
Yinti had stubbornly retorted at the time, “I’m not a baby anymore; I have no interest in watching ants.”
However, the Eldest Prince had always been stubborn with his words, so Garu didn’t take it seriously.
“Perhaps because Consort Hui’s birthday is approaching, the Eldest Prince has no extra attention to spare.” Garu carefully crafted a reason.
It seemed the Emperor was quite interested in the Ninth Prince’s ant observation box. If he directly said the Eldest Prince found it too childish, wouldn’t that be slapping the Emperor in the face?
The judgment of this seasoned court official was quite accurate.
Kangxi pushed aside the memorials beside him and stood up. “Let’s go, we shall also pay a visit to Yikun Palace.”
After several consecutive days of heavy snow, it had finally stopped today.
The accumulated snow on the palace pathways had long been cleared away, leaving only a thick layer of white on the glazed tiles, testifying to how heavy the snowfall had been.
As Kangxi led his entourage past, the snow on the vermilion high walls and tiles, disturbed by the vibrations, rustled down and fell on a cat walking close to the wall. Startled, the cat let out a “meow,” shook its fur, and leaped away in an instant.
Yikun Palace’s courtyard was also covered in a thick layer of snow.
A small clearing had been swept in the courtyard, connecting to the courtyard gate and several frequently used pathways, while the rest of the area remained blanketed in snow.
In the cleared area of the courtyard stood a stove, with a wire rack placed over it. On the rack were several oranges, a handful of longans, a pile of chestnuts and peanuts, and in the center, a handled earthenware jar gurgled as it boiled milk tea, filling the air with its fragrant aroma.
Several chairs were arranged around the stove, where Consort Yi and Niohuru were shelling peanuts while chatting idly.
On the snowy ground, Yintang, Yinzhi, Yinqi, and Yin E were building snowmen.
Around Consort Yi and Niohuru, several snowmen of varying sizes had already been built. Most had two stones embedded for eyes, a carrot for a nose, and small twigs stuck on either side of their bodies for arms. Only one snowman wore a crown made of snow and was draped with a piece of brightly colored floral cloth.
Niohuru, noticing her son had been playing for a long time and had broken into a light sweat on his forehead, hurriedly called Yin E over. His personal eunuch wiped the sweat from his head, neck, and back, then poured a cup of milk tea from a small jar for the Tenth Prince to drink and warm himself.
Yinqi also brought Yintang and Yinzhi to sit around the stove, where eunuchs promptly attended to them, wiping their sweat and serving them.
Yinzhi could now walk quite steadily, though his constitution had always been somewhat weak. Whenever he went outdoors, his nurse would bundle him up thickly like a little dumpling, leaving only his small face exposed.
Yintang wiped his face, washed his hands, and took several skewers of grilled sausages from a small basket nearby, placing them on the wire rack.
It wasn’t until the third winter after his transmigration that he realized there were no grilled sausages during the Kangxi era.
Since grilled sausages didn’t exist, he decided to make them himself – self-sufficiency leads to prosperity. It’s simple: just mince pork and stuff it into sheep casings. Brushed with a layer of lard on the outside, when grilled they become fragrant and glistening with oil, truly delicious to eat in the deep winter.
Grilled sausages quickly became regular snacks in Yikun Palace and Yongshou Palace, and even spread to Cining Palace through Yinqi. It was said that the Fifth Princess and the Empress Dowager quite liked them too.
After placing the sausages on the grill, rich meaty aromas soon wafted from the rack.
Yintang flipped them a couple of times. Seeing they were almost done, he took out an iron canister, unscrewed it, and sprinkled a mixture of cumin, salt, chili powder, and star anise powder. After washing his hands, he picked up two chestnuts to peel and nibble on while continuing to turn the sausages.
Suddenly, a pure white cat darted into the courtyard from outside, leaped into Yintang’s arms, unabashedly ate the chestnut he had just peeled, then snatched a skewer of grilled sausage in its mouth. The oil and seasoning from the sausage smeared all over Yintang’s clothes.
Yintang: …
Having been here for three years, he had become quite familiar with all the cats and dogs in the palace.
Yintang recognized this as Liuhua from Yuqing Palace, though he didn’t know why it had come to Yikun Palace today, and its fur was all wet.
Just as Lian Zhu brought over a dry towel and Yintang was drying the cat, a group of people emerged from behind the screen wall, led by Kangxi himself.
“Rise, everyone. The ground is cold,” Kangxi scanned the courtyard.
Yikun Palace was quite lively today – the Fifth Prince, Ninth Prince, Tenth Prince, and Eleventh Prince were all here.
Snowmen of various sizes in the courtyard looked charmingly naive.
Kangxi suddenly realized that in all these years in the palace, this was the first time he had seen snowmen.
And the first time he had seen a snowman wearing a brightly colored cloak and a crown.
He couldn’t help but look at Yintang.
Perhaps from playing in the snow for so long, the little one’s face was as pale as carved jade, with his nose and cheeks flushed red as if chilled, making one want to hold him close and warm him up.
Just as he was about to tell everyone to rise, he noticed something wriggling in the little one’s arms, seemingly trying hard to emerge.
One, two, three – Kangxi counted silently in his heart, and sure enough, the thing poked its head out.
It was a cat’s head.
Since when did the Ninth Prince keep a cat? It looked somewhat familiar.
Kangxi didn’t dwell on it and invited everyone to sit. He chose the seat most convenient for reaching food and specifically glanced at Yintang, then at the empty spot beside him.
Liang Jiugong understood his meaning and guided Yintang to sit beside Kangxi, deliberately moving the chair closer to the stove so the Ninth Prince could warm up better.
The stove was burning brightly, laden with various foods. Earlier, while walking on the path outside Yikun Palace, Kangxi had already caught the tempting aroma wafting from within.
Kangxi suddenly felt rather hungry.
Probably because he had risen early today, eaten little at noon, and reviewed many memorials.
It definitely wasn’t because he was craving food.
Noticing the Emperor’s gaze fixed on the stove, Consort Yi reached over to peel two peanuts and placed them in Kangxi’s hand.
Kangxi ate them in one go – not bad, crispy and fragrant.
When Consort Yi moved to serve him further, Kangxi waved her off. The pleasure of gathering around the stove for tea comes from doing things yourself. He picked two longans to peel – the flesh had been roasted until slightly chewy, creating a pleasant texture while retaining its juices.
When Kangxi began peeling chestnuts, Liuhua in Yintang’s arms suddenly started squirming restlessly.
Yintang stroked its head and scratched its chin before Liuhua reluctantly settled down.
While scratching its chin, Yintang felt Liuhua swallow.
Liuhua loved chestnuts and grilled sausages most—was it trying to guard its food? Yintang stared at the already grilled sausages on the iron rack, praying Kangxi wouldn’t pick one up out of curiosity.
Otherwise, with the cat in his arms, if it caused trouble, Kangxi surely wouldn’t scold the cat…
The thought had just flashed through his mind when Yintang saw Kangxi pick up a grilled sausage to examine.
Yintang: …
Before he could react, Liuhua sprang from his arms like a spring, accurately biting the sausage in Kangxi’s hand. With a jerk of its neck, it snatched the sausage away, darted to Yintang’s feet, used all four paws to pull it off the skewer, and began devouring it.
Yintang silently turned his face away.
Kangxi stared at the oily stain on his front robe, his face ashen and teeth gritted: “Yin—tang!”
Author’s note:
Happy holidays.