The Archery Hall typically began training in the afternoon. Since Yintang had woken up rather early, he busied himself preparing for another matter.
When the nursemaid brought Yin E over, Yintang was hunched over a large huanghuali wood desk, gripping a brush with intense concentration as he sketched something.
After all, his body was only three years old, and his small hands struggled to properly hold the brush. He could only clutch it vertically in his palm, straining to control its movement. Despite working up a sweat, the lines he drew remained crooked and wobbly, though the basic form was still recognizable.
So engrossed was he in his battle with the brush that he failed to notice anyone entering the room.
Yesterday, when Consort Yi prepared Ginger Milk Curd for the Grand Empress Dowager and Empress Dowager, she had set aside two portions for Noble Consort Niohuru from the neighboring Yongshou Palace. Today, Niohuru brought her son along for a visit, bringing some pastries and snacks.
Consort Yi had always intended to befriend Niohuru. Being neighbors, Yintang and Yin E had frequently accompanied their mothers on visits since they were swaddled infants. Once they learned to run and jump, Yin E became Yintang’s little shadow, seizing every opportunity to seek out his Ninth Brother to play.
Upon seeing Yintang, Yin E gleefully called out, “Ninth Brother! Ninth Brother!”
Yintang looked up and saw a chubby, fair-skinned child at the doorway adorned with a small silver lock around his neck, little gold bracelets on his wrists, and various other luxurious accessories—none other than Yin E.
The little boy grinned at him, holding a Tanghulu in each hand, the treats still emitting a faint chill.
Perhaps influenced by media and television dramas, Yintang had a vivid impression of Yin E as a “good-for-nothing.” But upon interacting with him, Yintang felt this label was overly simplistic. At the very least, the child’s intelligence was certainly not lacking—he was simply innocent and naive, somewhat oblivious to the complexities of human relationships.
Such a child would typically struggle to navigate the depths of the palace. Fortunately, he had a mother with a powerful maternal family, who ensured his safety throughout his life—a truly fortunate soul.
Yintang blew on the ink of his nearly finished drawing, set the brush aside, and cheerfully climbed down from his chair, running over to Yin E. “Tenth Brother, you’re here?”
The little chubby boy handed Yintang the larger of the two Tanghulu. “Ninth Brother, have some Tanghulu.”
Yintang took a bite. The sugar coating was crisp and hadn’t melted at all.
Noticing two stains on Yin E’s knees, Yintang bent down and brushed them off.
The nursemaid explained from the side, “The Tenth Prince was worried the Tanghulu would melt and lose their taste, so he hurried a bit too much and tripped on the way.”
Yintang quickly asked, “Were you hurt? Does it still hurt?”
Before the nursemaid could respond, Yin E chuckled and said, “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s fine, Ninth Brother.”
He stood on his tiptoes, peering at the desk taller than himself, and asked curiously, “Ninth Brother, were you writing just now?”
Mouth full of Tanghulu, Yintang mumbled, “No, I was drawing something.”
Yin E’s small face lit up with admiration. “Ninth Brother, you’re so amazing! You can already draw!”
Thinking of his worm-like “drawing,” Yintang flushed with embarrassment. He was about to modestly deflect the praise when he saw Yin E run over, struggle onto the chair, and carefully examine the drawing. The boy tilted his head, looking up at Yintang with a mix of confusion and admiration in his eyes. “Ninth Brother, what is this? It looks so impressive!”
Though the little white chubby boy had been fed into a plump, round ball by Niohuru, his features were still quite proper. When he tilted his head, he took on a somewhat tiger-like, robust appearance.
Yintang couldn’t help but laugh. “This is called an observation box.”
Ever since Kangxi had promised him a reward that day, Yintang had been pondering what to ask for. It was the ants Yinzhen caught for him that gave him an idea. Since Yinzhen enjoyed catching ants, why not cater to his interest by making an ant observation box? It would also give him more reasons to invite this future emperor to his place to play and strengthen their bond.
He was currently sketching the blueprint for the observation box to be handed over to the Imperial Workshop of the Imperial Household Department for production.
“Observation? What’s observation, Ninth Brother?” Yin E’s round little face showed confusion.
Yintang thought for a moment and explained, “When we squat on the ground watching ants carry food, that’s observation.”
Yin E nodded vigorously. “Yin E likes observation! I want to observe with Ninth Brother!”
In little Yin E’s heart, though he didn’t quite understand how this thing his ninth brother was drawing related to watching ants carry food, anything Ninth Brother said, did, or drew was the most amazing!
In his previous life, Yintang had been an only child, so his understanding of the sibling bond described in child development psychology had always been somewhat distant, like viewing flowers through fog. He never expected that through transmigration, he would get to experience having an older brother who doted on him and a younger brother who admired him.
And honestly, the experience was quite wonderful.
Yintang found the tanghulu in his mouth tasting even sweeter. He also climbed onto the chair and sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Yin E, doing his best to explain in simple terms. “It’s a big transparent box for observing things inside,” Yintang pointed at the crooked lines with his tanghulu stick. “I’ve divided it into many small rooms inside, connected by little paths so whatever lives in there can crawl from here to there and move around freely.”
“Ninth Brother, I don’t really understand…” Yin E scratched his head and grinned. “But when Ninth Brother finishes making it, you have to call me to come see it!”
Yintang laughed. “Definitely, definitely.”
As they were talking, Gūwalgiya and Niohuru came looking for them, chatting and laughing together.
Seeing the two little ones sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, discussing matters together, both mothers couldn’t help but smile.
When the two little Princes saw their mothers coming, they scrambled down from their chairs and ran toward them.
Yin E ran somewhat slower, and with his complicated clothing decorations, he accidentally stepped on his own hem and fell forward. Unfortunately, he was still holding his tanghulu skewer – if he fell completely, the skewer would likely pierce a bloody hole in his face.
The adults were all some distance away and couldn’t reach him in time. Niohuru’s face turned pale instantly, Consort Yi’s heart clenched in worry, and the wet nurse was so frightened her legs trembled.
Yintang had already run a short distance ahead but turned back to wait for Yin E when he saw this happen.
Without any thought, he threw away his tanghulu skewer, leaped forward, and pressed down on the tanghulu skewer in Yin E’s hand from above.
“Thump!” Yin E fell flat on his face and burst out crying with a “Waa!”
Yintang also fell to the ground, but fortunately the tanghulu skewer was pressed under his hand and didn’t injure Yin E. However, the little fellow had half his body pressed on top of Yintang, which was rather too much weight for his three-year-old body to bear.
Guoluoluo and Niohuru had already rushed over, helping their respective sons up.
Yin E began to weep and wail, and Yintang immediately felt the weight lift off him. He scrambled up with relief, thinking to himself that he must persuade Yin E to eat less later. He hadn’t been hurt by the fall, but the pressure had been painful.
Niohuru, her eyes brimming with tears, supported her loudly sobbing son, carefully examining him for a long while. Once she confirmed he was unharmed, she patted Yin E’s back, soothing him gently, while turning her gaze to Yintang.
Yintang had always been a lively and active child, frequently bumping and bruising himself, so Guoluoluo was long accustomed to it. She deftly checked his little arms and legs—solid and unbroken, all fine.
But when she squeezed Yintang’s forearm, he suddenly felt a sharp pain and couldn’t help but hiss. Guoluoluo quickly released her grip and saw that the spot she had pressed was seeping bright red blood through his sleeve. She hastily pushed the sleeve up.
A long, narrow wound ran diagonally across half his forearm, the shallow flesh split open, blood still oozing out.
It turned out that Yintang’s arm had been scraped by a candied hawthorn stick, leaving a long gash. But with Yin E’s chubby little body pressing down on it, he hadn’t felt the pain, and the bleeding had been suppressed. Only when the pressure was released did he become aware of it.
Yikun Palace was thrown into a flurry of activity, with three imperial physicians gathered around Yintang’s bedside.
One had been summoned by Consort Yi, another was brought by Niohuru, who, still uneasy, sought out a trusted and familiar doctor. The third had been specially dispatched by Kangxi, who had somehow heard about the incident—this physician typically attended to him, the Grand Empress Dowager, and the Empress Dowager.
In truth, the injury wasn’t severe—neither deep nor particularly dirty. It would likely heal in a couple of days if kept dry, though its length made it look alarming. Yintang himself paid it little mind; compared to this minor wound, he was more concerned about his afternoon plans to visit the Archery Hall and cross paths with the Crown Prince.
Fortunately, after the three physicians concluded their joint examination, they cleaned and dressed Yintang’s wound, advising him to avoid contact with water for the next few days before taking their leave.
From the moment Yin E saw Yintang’s injury, his crying grew even louder.
“Ninth Brother, you shouldn’t—shouldn’t have saved me,” Yin E sobbed heavily, his words broken. “It must hurt so much…”
Yintang watched the chubby little boy crying his heart out and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Tenth Brother, it’s just a small injury. It doesn’t hurt.”
Yin E refused to believe it. “Such a long cut—how could it not hurt? Waaah…”
The little chubby ball clenched his small fists, silently vowing in his heart: His most admired Ninth Brother had been hurt so badly because of him—from now on, he would follow Ninth Brother’s lead in everything!
Yintang felt a warmth in his heart. It was the first time a little child had shown such concern for him.
“Really,” Yintang raised his hand, mimicking drawing a bow, and said in an exaggerated tone, “This afternoon, I’m going to the Archery Hall to select an Anda to teach me archery. If it were serious, how could I go?”
Yin E had always loved martial arts and weaponry, and hearing about archery was sure to capture his attention.
Sure enough, as soon as Yin E heard about archery, he stopped crying, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Yintang. “Really, Ninth Brother?! That’s amazing! When you learn, will you teach me too?”
With coaxing and embraces, Niohuru finally managed to take the reluctant Yin E back to Yongshou Palace.
Only after the mother and son had left did Consort Yi approach Yintang’s side, sitting down and rolling up his sleeve. She looked at the long wound with heartache, her willow-leaf eyebrows furrowing as she asked, “Does it still hurt?”
Yintang grinned, speaking sweetly: “Mother, it stopped hurting long ago.”
Consort Yi released his arm and sighed: “You… helping others is a good thing, but…”
But don’t sacrifice yourself in the process.
These words ultimately remained unspoken by Consort Yi.
Although this child was clever to the point of cunning, loved mischief and mischief-making, and appeared completely reckless, she had raised him with her own hands and could clearly see the inherent goodness in his bones.
Even if she said these words, he probably wouldn’t listen.
Never mind, never mind. Her own child—she would simply protect him herself.
Yintang felt a warmth in his heart. He knew what Consort Yi wanted to say and understood her concerns.
Only someone who genuinely cared for him would speak such words.
And only someone who truly respected him would refrain from speaking them.
“Mother, your child knows his limits,” Yintang said in a coaxing tone. He spread his small arms and gave Consort Yi a big hug. The uniquely maternal warmth and fragrance filled his nostrils, bringing him comfort.
Consort Yi truly was a very, very good mother, he thought.
As the saying goes, minor injuries don’t keep one from the front lines. Though injured, his strong desire to see the Crown Prince far outweighed the slight pain from his wound.
Knowing she couldn’t dissuade him, Consort Yi let him go, though not without additional admonitions. She also instructed Baofu, the chief eunuch of Yikun Palace, to personally accompany him.