This Mid-Autumn Palace Banquet was the grandest in the palace in recent years.
At the beginning of the year, His Majesty had not even celebrated his own longevity festival, using the Empress Dowager’s preference for modest celebrations as a reason.
But now that Taiwan Prefecture had been secured and the maritime ban was set to be lifted in October, everyone with discerning eyes knew that this palace banquet was meant to celebrate the emperor’s ushering in of a prosperous era.
Both inside and outside the palace, all eyes were fixed on the event.
No one could say that the banquet was poorly organized.
After all, the Imperial Household Department had put in their utmost effort, and not a single mistake was made.
It ended peacefully.
It could not even be considered anticlimactic.
The resounding cheers in the square of the Qianqing Palace that morning were enough to make one’s blood boil with excitement.
The midday feast, where the monarch and his ministers celebrated together, had the noblemen and officials nodding in approval.
During the evening banquet, although the Crown Prince and the other princes got drunk, it was merely childish mischief.
What truly elevated the atmosphere to its peak was the simultaneous good news—both the Noble Consort and the Concubine Tong were expecting.
Princes and imperial relatives hurried to congratulate the Grand Empress Dowager, the Empress Dowager, and the Emperor.
Cups of wine were passed around endlessly, and by the time they left the palace, laughter was abundant.
But that laughter diminished as soon as they stepped beyond the palace gates.
Once inside their own carriages, the first thing they did was massage the stiffness from their forced smiles.
It was obvious that the joyful atmosphere had been put on for the Emperor’s sake.
The Niohuru clan had deeper foundations than even the Hesheri clan.
They had already produced one Empress, and now the Noble Consort had borne a prince and was pregnant again—this was not good news for the Crown Prince or the court.
If the Noble Consort safely gave birth, the court’s political structure would undoubtedly shift.
If she failed, the harem would descend into chaos.
The empire had finally achieved peace, but the political storms of the capital allowed no one a moment’s respite.
Aside from the Duke of the Niohuru clan, who could truly rejoice?
Even Kangxi was holding back a belly full of anger.
When he returned to Zhaoren Hall, his normally refined and elegant face was flushed from drinking, yet his expression was as cold as the King of Hell.
It wasn’t that he disliked the Noble Consort’s pregnancy.
The Manchu people valued large families, believing that many children brought prosperity.
A pregnant consort only proved the Emperor’s own virility—why would he be displeased?
The Crown Prince had already been established, and at his current age, his position was stable.
Kangxi had no intention of changing his heir and was confident in his ability to suppress the various schemers beneath him.
Unlike others, he did not fear the potential influence of the Imperial Noble Consort or the Noble Consort’s offspring.
What truly enraged him was the Niohuru clan’s scheming ambition.
Previously, when the Crown Prince had fallen from his horse, the department responsible for managing the royal stables was under Niohuru Tuba’s control.
Meanwhile, the instructor who taught the Crown Prince horseback riding had connections to the Tong Jia clan.
So, Kangxi had already issued warnings to both the Imperial Noble Consort and the Noble Consort.
Apart from occasionally dining with them, he had essentially stopped staying overnight in their quarters.
The Imperial Noble Consort had only recently given birth to the Eighth Princess, and due to the child’s premature passing, she had never fully recovered.
Kangxi did not wish for his cousin to conceive again and damage her health further.
He had the same thoughts regarding the Niohuru clan.
Once the Tenth Prince was older and the Crown Prince had matured further, allowing the Noble Consort to bear another son, as healthy and strong as the Tenth Prince, might not be a bad idea.
It could even serve as additional support for the Crown Prince.
On the third day of the fifth month, the late Empress Hesheri’s birthday, Kangxi had punished the Crown Prince by making him transcribe the Book of Rites: Learning as a lesson in respecting teachers and tradition.
As this was meant as a punishment, Kangxi would not allow the Crown Prince to leave before finishing.
However, Kangxi also did not want people to think the Crown Prince had fallen out of favor.
On that day, he spent most of his time in Kunning Palace, paying respects to the late Empress.
But the Niohuru clan was well aware.
Afterward, the Noble Consort went to Kunning Palace to chant scriptures and observe a vegetarian fast for ten days in honor of both the late Empress Hesheri and the Niohuru Empress.
Inside and outside the palace, this was seen as a form of submission and atonement for the Crown Prince’s accident.
At the same time, it served as a reminder to the Emperor of his past affections for the Niohuru Empress.
On the thirteenth day of the fifth month, the Noble Consort’s birthday, Kangxi had even stayed overnight at Consort Yi’s quarters for her birthday.
If he ignored the Noble Consort, Yongshou Palace would lose face entirely.
Of course, Kangxi would not let that happen.
On the Noble Consort’s birthday, he stayed at Yongshou Palace but only summoned her once.
He did not linger.
If the Noble Consort were truly so fertile, she would not have waited three years after entering the palace to conceive.
She must have taken fertility medicines.
Ebilun had already caused enough trouble for Kangxi in the past.
Now, having produced both an Empress and a Noble Consort, did the Niohuru clan not enjoy enough privilege?
They dared to target the Crown Prince, seize control of the palace when Tong Jia was ill, and manipulate their lineage for power—was their ambition not blatantly displayed in Kangxi’s face?
The Imperial Noble Consort Tong Jia had taken fertility medicines before, and look at what happened to the Eighth Princess.
Moreover, conceiving within a year of childbirth was already risky.
Coupled with these questionable medicines, what did the Niohuru clan take the Aisin Gioro bloodline for?
The palace attendants could all sense the Emperor’s foul mood.
Each held their breath, not daring to speak, not even to urge him to drink his sobering tea.
Kangxi stood brooding for a long time, but the anger in his chest refused to dissipate.
The frustration made his chest ache, and he found himself impatient with the steaming-hot sobering tea.
“Get out. Bring me cold brewed tea instead.”
Eunuch Liang Jiugong hurriedly waved his hand, signaling the attendants to withdraw.
The moment he stepped out of the hall, he spotted Bai Min standing outside, composed and poised.
He halted, lowering his voice in reprimand, “Why is it always you in front these days? Is there no one else in the imperial tea room?”
“Go back and tell those lazy ones—if they can’t do their job, I’ll replace them.”
Bai Min trembled slightly at the scolding but quickly caught the underlying meaning.
She respectfully bowed her lips and responded with a simple “Yes,” not saying another word.
Tonight’s situation felt off.
It seemed Eunuch Liang was about to make a move…
Bai Min knew Liang Jiugong disliked Fang He.
She had no intention of interfering.
Meanwhile, Fang He raised an eyebrow—what good could come from a weasel remembering a chicken?
Feigning difficulty, she exchanged a glance with Ran Xia and then gave Bai Min a reserved smile.
“If Eunuch Liang is being considerate, then let Bai Min fetch the water these days. Ran Xia and I will be more diligent to keep our positions. We must not slack off again.”
If Bai Min had no intention of taking risks, then she should not expect to rise alone.
With that, Fang He took the cold brewed tea and headed toward Zhaoren Hall.
Inside, Kangxi stood by the window in a simple yellow robe, hands on his hips, letting the wind cool him.
His back was to her, making his mood unreadable.
The lingering scent of wine and dragon musk, stirred by the breeze, added an inexplicable sense of restlessness to the air.
The hall was empty.
Fang He’s heart quickened slightly.
She placed the tea down quietly and prepared to leave.
The Emperor’s anger had nothing to do with her.
But as soon as Kangxi heard the approaching footsteps, he turned around with a grim expression.
Before Fang He could even finish kneeling in greeting, a voice laced with the sharpness of wine struck her like a slap.
“Why is it you? Is there no one else in the imperial court?”
Fang He thought to herself, There probably isn’t.
All that’s left is you and that dog Liang Jiugong.
“Replying to Your Majesty, this servant is on night duty in the Imperial Tea Room and is obligated to serve.”
Kangxi took large strides to the Luohan couch, sat down, picked up the tea bowl, and drank it all in one go, easing the dryness in his mouth.
He slammed the tea cup down heavily, half-lowering his eyes as he glanced at Fang He with mocking disdain.
“Obligated to serve? Then why were you hiding in the tea room earlier? Was it because you were unwilling to serve me, or because you were incapable?”
Fang He lowered her head, her heartbeat gradually calming.
It couldn’t be helped—though she rarely saw the emperor, she had dealt with enough drunken troublemakers before.
“This servant would never dare. It was Eunuch Liang’s order; this servant had previously made a mistake—”
Kangxi impatiently cut her off.
“So if Liang Jiugong doesn’t call you to serve me, you dare not come? Is he your master, or am I?”
“This servant wouldn’t dare…”
“Hah, I think you would dare. Wasn’t it you who schemed against me in Nanyuan before?”
“If others dare to plot against me, I can understand—but where did you get the audacity to do so?”
Fang He picked up on a key detail in his words—others?
She recalled how Cuiwei and the others, before returning to the side chambers, had received rewards from the Grand Empress Dowager due to the Noble Consort and Concubine Tong’s pregnancies.
They had spoken about it with careful yet meaningful undertones…
Given Fang He’s perceptiveness, it wasn’t hard to guess—aside from Noble Consort Niohuru, who else could this “other” refer to?
Damn it, she thought.
I really am here to take the fall!
Inwardly, she calmly cursed Liang Jiugong’s ancestors before kneeling down slowly.
Her voice softened as if she were coaxing a child.
“Replying to Your Majesty, you are a ruler burdened with countless affairs, the supreme and enlightened Son of Heaven. Managing mere palace attendants is not something that should take up your precious time.”
“Eunuch Liang serves to ease your burdens. We servants obey his orders because he is your head eunuch, not because he holds any real authority himself.”
Kangxi’s anger wavered for a moment.
Is this little rat implying that Liang Jiugong is just a dog relying on his master’s power?
And she won’t stop…
Fang He continued, “As for what happened in Nanyuan, this servant never intended to scheme against Your Majesty. I am well aware that in this palace—no, in all of the Great Qing—you are the sky under which all must look up, rely upon, and trust.”
“This servant reveres Your Majesty’s authority more each day, knowing full well my own incompetence. My only wish was for those who are more skilled to serve Your Majesty loyally. I also knew that my feeble attempt at justification would never deceive Your Majesty…”
“But this servant understands that Your Majesty is wise and powerful. My life or death has always been at Your Majesty’s disposal. Perhaps that is the only source of confidence I have.”
Kangxi rubbed the green jade thumb ring on his finger, silent for a long moment.
For some reason, the way this little rat spoke—disgustingly ingratiating—actually made his anger settle a little.
In the midst of his drunken haze, he found himself cooling down somewhat.