But that didn’t mean he would tolerate her using his affection to test his temperament.
To everyone’s surprise, Kangxi’s expression turned cold as he stood up.
Looking down at Consort Yi, he took a step toward the exit of the main hall.
Even Liang Jiugong was momentarily stunned.
It wasn’t until Consort Yi covered her face and rushed into the inner chambers that he snapped out of it, quickly following the emperor.
Summoning his courage, he asked, “Your Majesty… where are you going?”
Whether Kangxi was heading back or visiting another consort’s palace, Liang Jiugong had to make arrangements for the palanquin and clear the way.
It was already getting late.
As for whether Consort Yi would have the face to see anyone tomorrow, that was none of his concern.
His only worry was failing in his duties and making the emperor even more displeased.
His Majesty’s thoughts had become increasingly difficult to read.
Unlike Consort Yi, Liang Jiugong had no courage to stamp his feet and throw a tantrum.
But Kangxi didn’t answer, nor did he leave Yikun Palace.
Instead, he changed direction and headed toward the eastern side hall of the rear palace, where Consort Yi’s elder sister, Guoluo Changzai, resided.
Her daughter, the Fourth Princess, was six years old this year.
She had a personality somewhat similar to Consort Yi’s, and Kangxi found her quite endearing.
It was a good excuse to go visit.
Kangxi was determined to put Consort Yi in her place—but he had no intention of letting Yikun Palace fall out of favor.
***
The commotion from the rear hall—greetings, the sounds of meals being delivered—drifted faintly into the main hall, reaching the ears of Consort Yi, who was still lying on the bed, silently shedding tears.
Hearing the movement, she let out a small, secret sigh of relief.
She had been truly afraid that Kangxi would leave just like that.
For a concubine, losing favor wasn’t just about not being doted on—it was far worse.
All the things she had done in the past while competing for favor would become daggers, stabbing mercilessly into Yikun Palace.
If she fell from grace, the Fifth Prince, the Ninth Prince, and even the Fourth Princess would all be implicated.
The palace servants were the most adept at adjusting their attitudes based on who was in power.
Her personal maid, Yingtao, opened the window and listened for a while before cheerfully approaching to comfort her mistress.
“Your Majesty, don’t be discouraged! His Majesty still cares about you; that’s why he went to let Changzai serve him instead. Even ordinary couples argue sometimes.”
“You mustn’t lose heart. The most important thing is to freshen up and invite His Majesty back. He won’t truly stay angry with you. After all, today is your birthday—the imperial kitchen even prepared longevity noodles for you.”
Consort Yi slowly sat up and waved a hand in silence, signaling Yingtao to stop talking.
What “couple” was she talking about?
She was just a concubine.
Having hit a wall twice today—once at Zhaoren Hall and again just now—she could no longer ignore the truth: the emperor was no longer the same as before.
He no longer had to suppress himself, play peacemaker, or maintain the appearance of stability to appease the court ministers.
Today, three concubines had received rewards thanks to their natal families’ merits, signifying that the last lingering influence of the previous dynasty had been completely erased.
The ministers of the old regime could no longer manipulate the emperor.
And as for the harem?
The days when concubines could flaunt their family backgrounds or their children’s status were over—such dreams were nothing more than illusions now.
She had thought that since it was her birthday, the emperor would at least give her some respect.
And since Noble Consort Niohuru, her close ally, had spent a great deal of effort persuading her to intercede, she had boldly taken the risk to test the waters.
She had not expected Kangxi to be so unwavering.
Yi Fei had remained favored for so many years and had managed to secure a place for two of her sons—not because she was foolish.
She understood all too well: a storm was about to sweep through the Forbidden City.
At a time like this, things like favor and prestige were nothing but empty words.
What she needed most was to stay quiet, appear sensible, and keep a low profile—shutting her doors, reflecting on her actions, and avoiding the coming tempest at all costs.
***
Sure enough, before the harem could start gossiping and mocking Consort Yi for the events at Yikun Palace, several edicts were swiftly issued from Qianqing Palace.
The first decree was sent to Chuxiu Palace, promoting Concubine Hesheli to the rank of Pin (Consort Ping), granting her the privileges of a higher-ranking consort.
The second decree appointed Sumulu Feiyangwu as the new Deputy Director of the Imperial Household Department, replacing Niohuru Tuba.
Feiyangwu’s family was the maternal clan of Empress Hesheli, making them naturally aligned with the Crown Prince’s faction.
The third decree concerned the nine young concubines residing in Qianqing Palace’s side chambers.
Three were promoted to Changzai (a mid-tier rank), three were granted honorary titles, and all nine were formally relocated into the harem.
Among them, two were assigned to Consort Dowager Tong’s Chengqian Palace, two to Consort Hui’s palace, one each to Noble Consort Niohuru and Consort Rong’s palaces, and the remaining three were placed in Consort Virtue’s Yonghe Palace.
The entire harem fell silent in fear—no one dared to speak out or overstep.
Anyone with sharp eyes could see that His Majesty was elevating the Crown Prince while suppressing high-ranking consorts, aiming to clean up the overbearing influence of powerful Manchu noble families within the harem.
One dramatic event followed another, and the palace relocations were so chaotic it felt like war.
Consort Dowager Tong, who had lost her daughter less than a year ago, was already in poor health.
Now, with this upheaval, she was bedridden again.
Even Cining Palace was restless, with Noble Consort Niohuru and the Four Consorts either crying grievances or swearing loyalty before the Empress Dowager.
Meanwhile, Qianqing Palace remained as quiet as a grave.
What the harem understood, the ministers understood even better.
Whether in court or at their offices afterward, everyone kept their heads down and their mouths shut, terrified of getting caught in the storm.
As for the palace servants working in Qianqing Palace, they were even more cautious—this included those in the imperial tea room.
Previously, two particularly attractive maids had been eyeing Fang He, thinking she was an easy target to scheme against.
But the moment the imperial decrees were issued, they shrank back, acting as meek and obedient as kittens.
Fang He, who had always stayed quiet and out of trouble, continued her routine: standing at her post, then sitting by the tea cabinet without moving.
From behind the curtain, she had witnessed many human dramas—some of them rather amusing.
With everyone afraid, Fang He, on the contrary, felt at ease.
If I have to suffer, it’s better if everyone suffers together.
When everyone had their heads on the chopping block, it somehow didn’t feel as scary anymore.
She thought there was an unspoken understanding: when Master Kang (Kangxi) threw a fit, everyone—at least for ten days to half a month—should stay put and behave, right?
But she had seriously underestimated how reckless some people could be.
Not even a full day after the decrees were issued, a brawl broke out in Qianqing Palace.
And not just anywhere—it happened right by the imperial tea room, at the Imperial Study near Qianqing Gate.
The participants?
Leading the charge were the thirteen-year-old First Prince and the eleven-year-old Crown Prince.
Joining the fight were the eight-year-old Third Prince, the seven-year-old Fourth Prince, and the six-year-old Fifth Prince.
Fang He was returning from the Internal Affairs Office with the new maid Bai Min, carrying tea supplies.
As they passed through Rijing Gate, they stumbled upon the live-action chaos.
The fight had spilled out of the Imperial Study.
Oh, and nearby, the five-year-old Sixth and Seventh Princes, along with the four-year-old Eighth Prince, were… cheering.
Or rather, they were “verbally intervening.”
At first glance, it was just a group of moon-faced little princes duking it out, while a few chubby toddlers ran around flapping their hands, pretending to stop the fight but actually fueling the fire.
Fang He nearly burst out laughing.
Was she witnessing the kiddie version of a succession battle?
Tut tut.
Pity some of the contestants were still in swaddling clothes, and others hadn’t even been born yet.
She casually led Bai Min past the spectacle, heading back to the imperial tea room while sighing internally, this melon is a little bland…
At that moment, Kangxi had been reviewing memorials in Hongde Hall when Liang Jiugong rushed in to report that the princes had started a brawl, and even one of the Imperial Study instructors had been caught in the crossfire—knocked out cold and carried away.
Kangxi’s face darkened instantly.
With an air of murderous fury, he strode out, heading straight for the Imperial Study.
As he stepped onto the veranda, his sharp gaze flickered toward the direction of the imperial tea room.
And there it was—that all-too-familiar head.
Moving at a snail’s pace.
Tilting slightly.
There was no need to guess what she was doing.
Kangxi was so infuriated he actually laughed.
Why was she everywhere?!