The autumn of the 26th year of Kangxi’s reign seemed to arrive exceptionally early.
Rushing back to celebrate the Double Ninth Festival with the Grand Empress Dowager, the Autumn Hunt procession hurried along and finally reached the capital before the ninth day of the ninth month.
The Double Ninth Festival naturally involved ascending heights, and this year the chosen location was the West Garden.
From the name alone, Yintang had no idea where the West Garden was. But any opportunity to leave the palace was good—who cared where they were going?
Upon arrival, willows brushed the shores, white pagodas soared high, glazed rooftops peeked through lush greenery, and sunlit waves rippled across the autumn scenery—it was Beihai Lake.
The crowd ascended the stone steps of White Pagoda Mountain on Qionghua Island.
The long procession wound from the foot of the mountain all the way to its waist, with the scabbards of the imperial guards reflecting sunlight like a glittering belt draped across the slopes.
Kangxi led the way with Yinreng and Yinti, followed in order by consorts, palace women, Princes, and officials.
White Pagoda Mountain wasn’t particularly high, but surrounded by flat terrain and elegant landscapes, the stroll doubled as scenic viewing—a delightful autumn excursion.
Under such circumstances, children ought to be happily snacking on pastries and chatting idly.
But Yintang soon detected something amiss.
Why were all these elder brothers frowning with solemn expressions, maintaining tight-lipped silence?
The climbing procession stretched so long that their progress was quite slow. To better enjoy the scenery, Yintang moved to the front of the Prince’s procession. After all, he was just a mischievous child in a recreational setting—none of the Princes would seriously fuss over seating order.
“Third Brother, have you been here before?” Yintang attempted conversation with Yinzhi beside him.
Yinzhi paused every seven steps as if pondering something.
Noticing his little dumpling of a brother addressing him, Yinzhi grunted “Mm.”
“What fun things are there to do here?”
Yinzhi shook his head: “Never noticed.”
Seeing the pink-cheeked little one’s disappointed expression, he added after a moment’s thought: “There’ll be a Double Ninth Feast later with food and performances.”
As Yintang opened his mouth to speak again, Yinzhi hastily shushed him: “Good Ninth Brother, Third Brother is composing poetry now. Go find other brothers to play with.”
Third Brother truly lived up to being the literary prince—inspired by beautiful scenery to write poetry was perfectly normal. Best not disturb him then.
Yintang glanced left and right before stepping back to stand beside Yinzhen.
Yinzhen seemed tense, his small fists clenched tightly with sweaty palms. He didn’t even notice Yintang’s arrival.
Although his Chinese studies fared better than equestrian archery, he remained unremarkable among his brothers. Unlike those elder brothers who grew eager at the mention of contests, Yinzhen disliked such public, impromptu competitions. The mere thought of composing poetry before such a crowd made nervousness far outweigh any desire to distinguish himself.
“Fourth Brother, what are you thinking about?” A small hand waved before his eyes, snapping Yinzhen back to attention.
“Thinking of verse lines,” Yinzhen replied stiffly from excessive tension.
Huh? Fourth Brother was composing poetry too?
But why was Yinzhen so nervous about composing poetry? His little face was taut, his speech somewhat rigid—as if a big bad wolf were chasing him.
Seeing the little dumpling’s puzzled expression, Yinzhen struggled to overcome his nerves and explained: “Han Ama will test our poetry later.”
So it wasn’t a big bad wolf behind them—it was Kangxi ahead.
Alright, evaluating poetry in such a scenic location—this is so competitive and so very Kangxi.
Yinsi, walking behind Yinzhen, overheard their conversation and tugged at Yintang’s sleeve, signaling him to come closer.
Though Yinsi was the youngest, he appeared the most relaxed, even cheerfully recounting his previous visit to this place.
“Eighth Brother, have you decided on the poem you’ll compose?” Yintang tilted his head, studying Yinsi.
Yinsi nodded, his eyes curving into crescents like two moons.
Yintang couldn’t help but feel admiration: Yinsi was naturally brilliant, no wonder history suggested he had the potential to contend for the throne.
Noticing the little one’s awestruck expression, Yinsi felt a bit embarrassed. He glanced around, then leaned in to whisper in Yintang’s ear, “Ninth Brother, I actually finished writing it last night.”
Yintang: …
Yinyou, with his leg ailment, never participated in activities like mountain climbing.
Probably the only ones truly treating this climb as an autumn outing were Yinqi, Yin E, and him.
Yinqi, after all, didn’t know Chinese, so he had never been part of the poetry composition in previous years, and this year was no exception. At the moment, he was dutifully massaging the Empress Dowager’s waist, his honeyed words making her beam with delight.
Yin E had been eating since they set out. Having just finished a piece of Sachima, he magically produced a slice of watermelon from somewhere and began munching on it.
Seeing Yintang watching him, he happily waved and pointed to his watermelon, inviting Yintang to join him.
The watermelon was sweet, with the sandy texture Yintang loved. As he slurped and nibbled on the watermelon, enjoying the cool autumn breeze, he reflected that this was truly living.
If only there weren’t the poetry composition at the end.
It reminded him of his childhood, when his parents would take him to the park and he’d have to write a diary entry afterward titled “A Wonderful Day.”
It was like burning a lute for firewood or boiling a crane for soup—ruining the moment with unnecessary fuss!
Yintang deeply empathized with these young Princes.
The thought of having to compose poetry later suddenly made the watermelon less sweet.
Yintang began to think that this mountain climb might not be so necessary after all.
Unconsciously, his steps slowed.
“Ninth Brother, are you hungry?”
Yin E noticed his slower pace and assumed Yintang must be hungry.
They had set out early in the morning and hadn’t had lunch yet. Good thing he had brought plenty of snacks.
Yin E quickly finished his watermelon, wiped his hands with a damp towel handed by a eunuch, and blinked earnestly as he asked Yintang, “Ninth Brother, would you like something else to eat? Preserved fruit? Nai Wu Ta? Hawthorn candy? Sesame cake?”
Yintang had long outgrown his sweet tooth. Hearing Yin E list a string of cloyingly sweet treats made his back teeth ache.
Before he could reply, he saw Yinsi, who had been walking ahead of them, slow his pace to fall in step beside them.
Yinsi glanced at Yintang. Whether from the sun or exhaustion, the little one’s fair, pinkish face had turned flushed, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead.
He used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from Yintang’s brow, then handed him his own water pouch. “Ninth Brother, this has chilled water. You can take a small sip, but don’t drink too much.”
“Thank you, Eighth Brother.” Yintang obediently took the pouch and took a tiny sip.
Indeed, a sip of cold water during a mountain climb was utterly refreshing.
Unfortunately, Yinsi was watching closely, afraid he might drink too much and get a stomachache. Seeing him take one sip, he quickly retrieved the cup, covered it, and didn’t let him take a second sip.
Yinzhen, feeling somewhat tired from walking, paused by the roadside to rest while nervously composing lines of poetry in his mind. Hearing the others’ conversation, he hurriedly recited the lines he had finally come up with twice to himself before rummaging through the bundle carried by a eunuch.
He wasn’t particularly fond of snacks, so the bundle contained the usual items like handkerchiefs, water pouches, and other daily necessities.
After some effort, he found a sweet plum. Yinzhen carefully wiped it with a handkerchief, walked over, and handed it to Yintang.
“Ninth Brother, here.”
Though Yinzhen’s expression remained tense with nervousness, he still managed to force a smile at Yintang.
“Thank you, Fourth Brother.”
Yintang took a couple of bites of the plum. It was indeed sweet with a hint of sourness, quite delicious. He gave Yinzhen a sweet smile and said, “Fourth Brother’s plum is really sweet.Yinzhen, however, thought the little dumpling’s smile was even sweeter than the plum.
During this month accompanying Han Ama on the imperial tour beyond the Great Wall, the little dumpling seemed to have grown a bit taller, though he was still quite slender—much smaller compared to the tall, sturdy Mongolian children of the same age.
Such a small child, having walked such a long mountain path, must be tired by now, right?
Yintang quickly finished the plum, wiped his hands clean, and noticed Yinzhen still standing there watching him, seeming to hesitate. Puzzled, he asked, “Fourth Brother, what’s wrong?”
Yinzhen’s face flushed slightly, and his eyes unconsciously drifted to the willow branches nearby. “Um, if you’re tired, I could carry you on my back.”
He actually envied Yinqi, who always said whatever was on his mind. But for some reason, whenever Yinzhen wanted to show kindness to others, he felt embarrassed.
Yintang didn’t dare let Yinzhen carry him.
Today, the Grand Empress Dowager, Empress Dowager, Kangxi, and consorts from various palaces were all present. If some gossipy person made an issue out of it, it wouldn’t just be child’s play anymore.
Seeing Yintang remain silent, Yinzhen regretted his abrupt offer and quickly tried to make amends: “How about we find a place to rest for a bit?”
Yintang’s eyes lit up as he remembered something.
Yinqi had just finished massaging the Empress Dowager’s back and was now munching on the Eight Treasure Cake she had given him.
Concerned about Yintang, he glanced toward the Princes’ area and saw that Yinzhen, Yinsi, Yintang, and Yin E (Tenth Prince) had somehow found a small patch of grass on the mountainside. They had spread out a mat and were sitting around it.
These brothers were being unfair—how could they have fun without including him, Yinqi?
After informing the Empress Dowager, he headed straight for the small grassy spot.
By the time he arrived, the four brothers were surrounded by scattered fruit peels and melon seed shells, with a square wooden board placed in the center.
The board had a fold line running horizontally and vertically across it, making it foldable for easy carrying. It was marked with straight lines forming a grid of evenly spaced yellow, green, red, and blue small squares. Each square had a blank circle in the middle, and there were dotted-line pathways in the four colors along the edges.
At the four corners of the board were larger squares in yellow, green, red, and blue, each containing one to four small wooden pieces shaped like little birds, with a solid circle of the same color outside.
In the center of the board lay a dice showing six pips.
“Great!” Yin E clapped his hands joyfully and laughed. “All four of my little birds have flown out!”
With that, his chubby little hand moved the last small blue bird from the large square closest to him to the solid circle on the outer edge.
Next, it was Yinzhen’s turn to roll the dice.
Frowning, Yinzhen stared at the four small yellow birds standing steadily in place before him.
Yin E’s little blue bird was almost at the finish line, and Yinsi and Yintang already had some of their birds out. He refused to believe he couldn’t roll a six today.
“Fourth Brother, you can do it!” Yinsi gave Yinzhen an encouraging look.
Yinzhen rubbed the dice between his palms, blew on them for luck, and then threw them forcefully toward the center of the wooden board, silently chanting “Six!” in his mind.
The dice spun several times on the board before finally coming to a stop.
The number four glared up at him.
Yinzhen snatched a piece of watermelon from the nearby plate and took a fierce bite.
Yinzhi had finally composed his quatrain and was quite pleased with the result.
Only then did he have the leisure to lift his head and admire the scenery, only to find that his younger brothers had all vanished from sight.
When he found the small grassy clearing, he saw a figure in a pale blue robe leap up from a cushion, hands on hips, laughing heartily: “Hahaha, I won!”
It was none other than Fifth Brother.
Yinqi, having calmed down from his victory, turned and noticed Yinzhi standing to the side with a complicated expression.
“Oh, Third Brother, you’re here! Why are you standing over there? Come, come, Ninth Brother’s Flying Chess is so much fun—join us!” Yinqi warmly invited him.
The breeze was gentle, the weather clear, and the surrounding scenery stretched out before them.
Kangxi supported the Grand Empress Dowager as they stood atop the hill, gazing into the distance.
The Grand Empress Dowager was now seventy-five, well into her advanced years, and her health had visibly declined day by day. Since the start of summer, she had spent most of her time confined to her sickbed. Under such circumstances, every extra day her grandson could spend with her felt like a blessing.
Fortunately, the Grand Empress Dowager had been in better spirits lately, eating more than before and willing to get out of bed for short walks each day.
Seeing that the temperature was pleasant and the wind mild today, Kangxi had mustered the courage to take her out for some fresh air. It had clearly lifted her spirits—so much so that she had even stepped down from her soft sedan chair and walked a short distance on her own.
The Grand Empress Dowager’s joy brought Kangxi happiness as well.
As they took in the beautiful scenery and the high spirits of those around them, Kangxi thought of having the Princes compose poems to match the occasion.
But when he looked around, aside from Yinreng and Yinti, who remained by his side, none of the other Princes were in sight.
Normally, the children would have gathered around by now, eagerly competing to present their poems.
Puzzled, Kangxi turned to Liang Jiugong and asked, “Where are the little Princes?”
Liang Jiugong recalled the message a little eunuch had just delivered and hesitated over how to respond. He pursed his lips, lowered his chin slightly, and blinked in the direction of the small grassy clearing.
Kangxi followed his gaze.
A moment later.
“Wow, Third Brother, you’re amazing—three sixes in a row!”
“Fourth Brother’s luck is on fire today too—all three of his birds are out!”
“Ninth Brother, this Flying Chess is seriously fun!”
“Third Brother, Han Ama seems to have reached the summit. Should we head over now?”
“Hey, no rush, no rush. Let’s play one more round. What do you think, Fourth Brother?”
“Mm.”
“…”
Kangxi looked at his six sons sitting attentively on the lawn, their eyes fixed on the chessboard. The corner of his mouth twitched several times, and he felt his hands growing somewhat itchy.
Author’s note: Yintang: Han Ama, come join us~