SWNOVELXO Chapter 77 - Settling In
In the front hall of Yuqing Palace, a large incense altar was set up. Cheng Wanyun, along with E Linzhu and Hongxuan, solemnly presented the ritual offerings of three sacrificial animals alongside the Crown Prince. As they completed the offering, the surrounding musicians began playing sanxian, pipa, and clapper drums, filling the air with solemn ceremonial music. The Crown Prince then led Cheng Wanyun and the children forward to offer wine—three rounds in total.
The shamans were clad in elaborate ritual attire: skirts adorned with nine bronze mirrors and sashes with twenty-four colorful silk ribbons, along with divine robes embroidered with 360 shells. They wore stag-horned headdresses decorated with eagle feathers, and around their necks hung gruesome wolf fangs and beast bones. Holding animal-skin drums, they began their ceremonial chants and dances whenever the offerings were completed. Their movements imitated the behaviors of wild beasts, mighty eagles hunting, and scenes from daily life, embodying the animistic traditions of the Manchu people.
In the hearts of the Manchus, shamans were believed to communicate with spirits, ward off evil, and cure illnesses.
Yinreng performed the rites with utmost devotion.
As the final segment of the ritual unfolded, the leading shaman prostrated barefoot before the altar, seemingly in deep spiritual communion—then suddenly leaped up!
It was Cheng Wanyun’s first time witnessing a shamanic ritual up close, and she was startled. Yet, as she continued to watch, she found herself awestruck. The shaman clutched his drum against his chest, shaking the bells at his waist with swift movements. He then swapped the drum for willow branches, wielding them like a long spear, skillfully spinning them in intricate patterns. The morning dew on the branches was evenly flicked onto Cheng Wanyun and the children, who were about to undergo variolation (smallpox inoculation).
As he chanted and danced fervently around them, the other shamans intensified the beat of their drums, their rhythm growing faster and more powerful. Then, as if possessed by divine power, the lead shaman suddenly leaped onto a bed of glowing embers, walking barefoot over scorching hot charcoal!
Thick smoke curled around his feet, yet he seemed unaffected by the heat or pain, shouting incantations in a voice that was both wild and entrancing. His movements were fierce yet majestic, exuding an untamed spiritual energy. Cheng Wanyun found herself mesmerized, captivated by the raw intensity of the performance.
Setting aside superstition, she saw this ritual as a profound display of faith—a powerful belief that fueled their conviction and transformed into a mesmerizing, breathtaking spectacle.
Traditional customs were truly beautiful.
With the ceremony concluded, it was time for Cheng Wanyun and the children to enter the variolation (smallpox inoculation) quarters.
These quarters were specially designated near the palace gates, positioned at the downwind side to minimize contamination. The rooms were converted from the dormitories of eunuchs, and though not particularly spacious, they were well-equipped with separate inner and outer chambers, complete with tables, beds, and daily necessities. The setup even had the cozy atmosphere of a rural inn.
Before Cheng Wanyun and the children received their inoculations, the Crown Prince had already ordered her personal attendants—including Qingxing, Bitao, Tianjin, Tianyin, and several other palace maids and eunuchs—to undergo variolation first. Unlike the royal family, however, they had to leave the palace to receive their treatment at an outside variolation clinic. Most of them recovered within ten to fifteen days before returning to their posts.
Bitao had once shown Cheng Wanyun the smallpox scars on her arm and explained the vaccination process to her. She described how the pus was applied, what symptoms to expect, and how she only had a fever for three days. Her neck swelled for two days (likely due to lymph node inflammation), but she only developed seven or eight pustules across her body. By the eighteenth day, the scabs fell off, leaving just a small scar on her arm—after that, she was completely fine.
Tianjin, on the other hand, had an even milder reaction. After the inoculation, he barely had any symptoms—just a few pustules on his arm and no fever at all.
Cheng Wanyun couldn’t help but feel envious. These people had exceptional immunity, much like the asymptomatic carriers during later pandemics. They were the lucky ones who didn’t have to suffer.
As Bitao explained all this, the Crown Prince stood outside the door.
His tall shadow was cast into the room at an angle, and Cheng Wanyun immediately understood—he was standing there on purpose, silently reassuring her so she wouldn’t be afraid.
But in truth, she wasn’t afraid at all. She had already been vaccinated in her past life, though by then it was done via injections rather than variolation. There were no round scars, no symptoms, and the process was much safer.
The Imperial Astronomer had calculated the most auspicious date based on everyone’s birth charts, and the first to receive the inoculation was Hongxuan.
Despite being very young, he always held himself to the standard of an elder brother. His face had gone pale with fear, but he still stood straight, solemnly bowing to bid farewell to the Crown Prince and Crown Princess before entering the inoculation room.
Yinreng gently patted his head.
“You’ll be fine. You are Father’s little man—you need to set an example for your younger siblings. Be brave, alright?”
His wet nurse would be accompanying him, which was his greatest source of courage. He nodded obediently.
“I will, Father.”
The Crown Princess also called him over, patted his shoulder, and encouraged him:
“Good child. Come back safe and sound.”
After Hongxuan, Harinauhai was vaccinated two days later. Then came Cheng Wanyun, and lastly, E Linzhu.
When it was her turn, Cheng Wanyun moved into the variolation quarters, accompanied by Bitao.
A thin, elderly imperial physician came to administer the vaccination. The process was quick and relatively painless—he used a narrow, fine blade to make a small incision on her arm, then extracted pus from a cowpox pustule and dropped it into the wound. To ensure successful inoculation, it was customary to introduce four pustules.
By the next day, she had developed a fever, and ten or so pustules appeared on her arm.
Her fever was mild but persistent, lingering for nine days before finally subsiding. Although she didn’t feel particularly unwell, she was alarmed when two or three pustules appeared on her forehead and cheeks. She didn’t dare scratch or touch them, terrified of leaving scars.
Several times, while resting in her room, she could hear the Crown Prince outside, angrily scolding the imperial physicians.
It was likely because her fever wouldn’t break, causing him great concern. As a result, the imperial physicians began checking on her more frequently.
By day twenty, when her scabs finally formed and began falling off, the imperial physician let out a visible sigh of relief. His already sparse hair had thinned even more from the stress of the past twenty days.
What Cheng Wanyun didn’t know was that the Crown Prince had been monitoring her condition every single day.
The Emperor (Kangxi) had strictly ordered him not to enter the variolation quarters, fearing he might contract the virus. With no way to check on her directly, the Crown Prince had instead been relentlessly pressuring the imperial physicians for updates.
When E Linzhu successfully left the quarantine on day sixteen, yet Cheng Wanyun was still inside with a fever, the Crown Prince became completely restless.
He paced back and forth so much that the floor tiles of the Imperial Medical Bureau were nearly worn down.
Fortunately, despite some minor obstacles, all the children—and Cheng Wanyun herself—were successfully inoculated. Most importantly, the one Yinreng had worried about the most, E Linzhu, had an exceptionally smooth recovery. This brought immense relief and joy to everyone, and he immediately rewarded all the attendants who had helped in the variolation quarters, showering them with silver.
When Cheng Wanyun finally stepped out, the Crown Prince was already waiting outside to receive her.
Seeing Bitao carrying an entire bundle of storybooks—not willing to leave even one behind—he couldn’t help but laugh. Before her inoculation, Yinreng had ordered E Chu to gather a large collection of storybooks to keep her entertained. In fact, rumor had it that E Chu was even considering hiring scholars to establish a publishing house dedicated to writing storybooks, given the enormous demand for them within the palace. Many of Cheng Wanyun’s books had already been borrowed by Noble Lady Wang!
The only thing that troubled Cheng Wanyun after the inoculation was the two pink scars left on her face.
No matter how much she applied the scar removal cream from the Imperial Medical Bureau, it didn’t seem to work. One mark was located on her forehead, right between her brows, while the other was on her left cheek.
Before this, her skin had been smooth and flawless, without even a single mole. Now, suddenly having two new marks, she found it difficult to adjust. Every time she styled her hair, she would spend ages in front of the mirror, scrutinizing her reflection.
Worse still, these scars had not faded—they remained noticeably red. The ancient rouge and powders couldn’t conceal them at all. In fact, after applying powder, they became even more visible!
Yinreng had originally planned to host a family banquet to celebrate his wife and children’s successful inoculation. However, upon noticing Cheng Wanyun’s gloomy mood—constantly sighing in front of the mirror—he abandoned the idea.
One night, after they had lowered the bed curtains, he cupped her face in his hands, examining her scars with a soft gaze. Running his fingers gently over them, he said:
“Look at this beauty mark on your forehead—it’s a sign of Buddha’s protection. People say that only those blessed by Buddha develop a mark here.”
“As for the one on your cheek, I’ve heard that moles and scars have significance. This particular one symbolizes prosperity and good fortune.”
Cheng Wanyun, half-believing, touched her face. “Really?”
“Of course. I think it’s beautiful—just like peach blossoms blooming on your face.”
He was genuinely mesmerized by her appearance. Especially when she lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. The two faint marks resembled peach petals that had been blown off a branch by the wind, gently landing on her brow and cheek—radiating an ethereal, spring-like beauty.
Hearing his words, Cheng Wanyun’s face flushed. “Did you coat your lips with honey, Your Highness?”
Yinreng lowered his head and kissed her softly before whispering:
“I’ve already discussed it with the Emperor. On the third of February, I will embark on the southern tour. And I will take you with me—to fulfill the promise I made to you in the persimmon grove last year.”
Hearing this, Cheng Wanyun’s eyes widened in shock.
A moment ago, she had been lost in his deep kiss, but now, it felt as though she had been struck by a five-million-dollar lottery jackpot.
Her blood surged with excitement, boiling with overwhelming joy.
She had known that the Crown Prince was leaving on a journey, but she had never imagined that she could go with him.
After all, this was an official duty, not a leisurely trip. It was customary for him to travel with his brothers to handle affairs—but how could a woman accompany him?
Especially considering that Hongxi was not even three years old yet—how had he even persuaded Emperor Kangxi to allow it?!
Yet, from Yinreng’s calm and confident tone, it seemed that the matter had already been settled.
“I… I can really go? I can truly go with you?”
Her voice trembled, her hands trembled—no, her entire body trembled!
The overwhelming hope and happiness enveloped her, yet at the same time, a deep sense of guilt crept in.
Because the thought of leaving the palace—leaving the capital—had ignited pure excitement within her heart.
Not even a trace of hesitation.
Yinreng gazed at her, his heart aching at the desperate longing in her eyes—like a drowning person reaching out for a floating piece of wood.
Life in the palace was, indeed, suffocating. Even the Emperor himself found excuses every year to retreat to Changchun Garden or Rehe for the summer—precisely because staying confined within the rigid, square palace walls for too long could drive anyone mad.
And Yinreng had been trapped for twenty years.
“I have already asked for Imperial Father’s approval.”
Holding her in his arms, he gently grasped her trembling hands and pressed them against his chest. His voice was low, almost a whisper.
“When I’m away, I need someone to care for my daily needs. Instead of bringing along palace maids I don’t trust, I’d rather have just you.”
“As for the children…”
“E Linzhu and Hongxi will temporarily stay in Ning Shou Palace. Hongxi has always been obedient and sensible, and although E Linzhu is mischievous, Imperial Grandmother has been longing for the grasslands. I will have Harinauhai visit Ning Shou Palace frequently to pay his respects. With Imperial Grandmother taking care of them, you can rest assured. As for Hongxuan, the Crown Princess will continue to look after him as usual.”
Yinreng’s voice softened further. “I understand you, A Wan. I understand.”
Yinreng often asked himself this question.
A Wan was someone who always found joy in simple things—that was one of her virtues. But did she truly like living in the palace?
Even he himself didn’t like it.
How could A Wan?
She was simply better than most at comforting herself and not allowing sorrow to consume her.
Yinreng knew that all these years, A Wan had never tried to conform to the palace’s customs.
She never participated in copying Buddhist scriptures or counting prayer beads.
Whenever the concubines followed trends—learning to play instruments, paint, compose poetry, or practice calligraphy—their choices often depended on whomever the Emperor favored at the time.
If a scholarly woman was in favor, a wave of poetry and calligraphy practice would sweep through the palace. If a woman skilled in the Four Arts (qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting) gained the Emperor’s attention, then suddenly, every palace would start requesting guqin—to the point that the Imperial Household Department couldn’t make them fast enough.
A Wan, however, always remained in her small courtyard, as if she were guarding a tiny world of her own.
Yinreng often had a strange thought—A Wan never looked beyond the palace walls, but that wasn’t because she lacked ambition or was content with an ordinary life.
Rather, it felt as though she carried an entire world within her heart—one that had already seen the best sights and experiences.
The palace and its petty competitions simply didn’t interest her.
Even the Crown Princess was not exempt from palace traditions.
This was why Yinreng had arranged for their two children to stay in Ning Shou Palace—not because he didn’t trust the Crown Princess, but because she had suggested it herself.
Ever since entering the Eastern Palace, the Crown Princess had been carefully building her reputation.
Among the royal daughters-in-law, she had to be the most virtuous.
When it came to respecting elders, she had to be the most dutiful.
She copied Buddhist scriptures diligently.
Whereas others paid their respects to the Emperor once or twice a day, she went five times.
Even if she had already accompanied Yinreng in the morning to greet the Emperor, she would still return at noon and in the evening to check in.
To avoid being seen as a nuisance, she always found a reason for her visits—sometimes offering her embroidery, sometimes bringing snacks, other times reminding the servants to be extra attentive.
She never forced an audience with Kangxi, but Eunuch Liang Jiugong, who was biased toward the Crown Prince’s household, always made sure to mention her devotion to the Emperor.
Beyond that, the Crown Princess visited the Empress Dowager daily, accompanying her for conversations and playing cards.
She even sent orders to the Shi family in the Khorchin Mongol tribe to escort one of the Empress Dowager’s former attendants back to the palace—a servant who used to cook Mongolian dishes for her.
This way, the Empress Dowager could reminisce about her childhood and hear stories about the Khorchin people, bringing a sense of warmth and familiarity.
The Crown Princess handled this matter perfectly, winning the Empress Dowager’s deep appreciation.
The Dowager even held her hand and shed tears, saying that among all these years, only the Crown Princess had truly cared for her and shown her genuine filial piety.
When Kangxi came to pay his respects to the Empress Dowager, she lavished praise on the Crown Princess and, as a gesture of goodwill, made a suggestion:
“This year’s Imperial Sericulture Ceremony (Qin Can Li) should be hosted by the Crown Princess. She is meticulous and dependable—such a rare quality. Your Majesty, your choice was indeed correct.”
Traditionally, the Empress presided over the Imperial Sericulture Ceremony, but since the Empress’s position remained vacant, the responsibility had fallen to the four senior imperial concubines, who took turns performing the ritual at the First Sericulture Altar each year.
This ceremony was more than just a formality—it was a symbolic step toward overseeing the inner palace.
It also served as the Empress Dowager’s recognition of a woman’s potential to become the future Empress of the nation.
Since the Empress Dowager’s words carried immense weight, even though Kangxi did not issue an immediate decree, Imperial Concubine De, who was originally scheduled to host the ceremony this year, conveniently fell ill at just the right moment.
After all, who would have expected such a last-minute twist?
More importantly, this was a public honor granted by the Empress Dowager herself—how could Imperial Concubine De dare to compete for it?
She understood the unspoken message behind the Empress Dowager’s praise and wisely chose to step aside, allowing the Crown Princess to rightfully take over the ceremony.
Kangxi appreciated Imperial Concubine De’s tactful retreat—it spared him the trouble of making an explicit decision.
As a result, he praised and rewarded the Fourteenth Prince (Imperial Concubine De’s son) multiple times in the Imperial Study.
To maintain appearances, he also sent the Imperial Physician to check on Imperial Concubine De’s “health” and granted her an abundance of tonics and supplements, ensuring that Yonghe Palace was given due respect.
Since the Imperial Sericulture Ceremony required the use of the Empress’s phoenix seal and official registry, this ceremonial act elevated the Crown Princess’s standing.
Unless Kangxi explicitly revoked her authority afterward, no one would dare to demand the phoenix seal back from her.
The four senior imperial concubines were all experienced palace women, but even if they were unwilling, there was nothing they could do.
With both the Emperor and the Empress Dowager backing the Crown Princess, they had no choice but to retreat.
From now on, the entire inner palace would have to listen to the Crown Princess.
—
While the children and the side concubine in Yuqing Palace were undergoing variolation, the Crown Princess personally sought out the Crown Prince to discuss her plans:
“Hongxuan is older, and his attendants—eunuchs and wet nurses—are all reliable. Lord E Chu is also watching over him, so I don’t need to worry too much.
But Hongxi and E Linzhu are still very young, and I fear I won’t have the time to care for them properly. Because of this, I would like to request your approval on two matters.”
First, she suggested temporarily entrusting Hongxi and E Linzhu to the Empress Dowager’s care:
“The Fifth Prince has already moved out to establish his own residence, and his children rarely visit the palace to show filial respect. Though the Empress Dowager never complains, she must feel lonely.
E Linzhu is lively and sweet-tongued, while Hongxi is intelligent and well-behaved—both suit the Empress Dowager’s temperament.
Ning Shou Palace is quiet and stable, which would be beneficial for the children.
Meanwhile, I will be able to free up my time to familiarize myself with and take control of inner palace affairs.”
Second, she requested that Tang Gege be promoted to a side concubine:
“Tang Gege has managed the household dutifully for years, working tirelessly without any major mistakes.
You will be traveling far this year, and Yuqing Palace needs someone experienced to oversee its daily affairs.
If Tang Gege remains just a ‘Gege’, I fear she won’t be able to assert enough authority over the other members of the household.
She has served you for many years. Even if she hasn’t made great achievements, she has certainly endured hardships. She deserves the position of a side concubine.”
The Crown Princess never once mentioned appointing Side Concubine Cheng as the household manager.
She had already anticipated that the Crown Prince would take Cheng Wanyun along on his journey, so she needed to push for someone else to hold power in the palace.
By securing Tang Gege as her trusted deputy, she could safely leave Yuqing Palace behind and focus on consolidating her control over the inner court.
After all, the Crown Prince could not conduct himself as freely as she could in front of the Emperor.
There were many times when he had to exercise caution and avoid suspicion, but the Crown Princess did not have that burden.
She possessed a natural advantage—and a bitter fate—as a woman:
The Emperor might doubt the Crown Prince, but he would never suspect her of harboring disloyalty.
She had been strong-willed since childhood, and now that she held the phoenix seal, she was determined to pour her entire heart and soul into her role.
She would not allow herself to make a single mistake.
She wanted the entire palace and the outside world—all those who had once mocked her and ridiculed the Shi family—to witness her rise to power.
She wanted to prove to those who had once gloated over her misfortune that the Shi family could indeed support the Crown Prince!
Even if she was the last one left, she would never allow anyone to trample upon or underestimate the Shi family!
—
The Crown Prince, Yinreng, saw the fire of ambition blazing in her eyes.
He sat on his throne, while she knelt before him, but her gaze was unwaveringly firm.
He knew that her ultimate goal was to restore the Shi family’s honor.
He nodded slightly and then asked her in a soft voice:
“Is this truly what you desire? Is this what you want to do?”
The Crown Princess was momentarily stunned.
She had never expected that one day, the Crown Prince would ask her this question.
But she did not hesitate—she nodded firmly.
Entering the palace, her sole mission had been to revive the Shi family—this was the dying wish of both her grandfather and father.
She had to succeed!
Now that she had secured a position of power, she had no need to rely on the Emperor’s favor for survival.
Nor could she afford to view the Crown Prince as an ordinary husband—because he wasn’t one.
The best approach was to see him as the future Emperor, a sovereign she must respect and serve as half a ruler.
—
“Then go ahead and do it,” Yinreng said simply, without further words.
Hearing this, the Crown Princess let out a quiet sigh of relief and bowed deeply.
Then, she made one final request:
“There is one more thing… When you travel south on your inspection tour, could you bring Fudali and his men with you?
I am not exaggerating their abilities—they are not cowards. They can endure hardship and have even sailed overseas to fight pirates.
If they use their lives to protect you, only then can I feel at ease.”
Yinreng smiled and personally helped her to her feet:
“I was thinking the exact same thing.”
With this, the Crown Princess felt completely reassured.
—
After the Crown Prince left, she sat in deep thought, recalling a minor incident from not long ago.
A eunuch assigned by the Imperial Household Department had caught her attention.
Seeing that he was efficient and quick-witted, she permitted him to serve in her chambers and even promoted him to chief eunuch.
However, one day, he foolishly assumed he was being loyal and secretly suggested to her that she should eliminate Side Concubine Cheng and her son, the Second Prince.
The Crown Princess merely glanced at him coldly, then ordered Nanny Li to gag him, drag him away, and beat him to death on the spot.
“A thorn in my eye? A dagger in my flesh?”
She found his words so ridiculous that she almost laughed.
Eliminate Side Concubine Cheng? Did he think the Crown Prince wouldn’t immediately know it was her doing?
Did he think she would be so reckless as to sabotage her own position?
—
The reason she had managed to secure her place as the Crown Princess was not just because she was personally chosen by the Emperor.
The most crucial factor was the Crown Prince’s attitude toward her.
If she had started eliminating rivals the moment she entered the palace, the Crown Prince wouldn’t have hesitated to remove her himself.
Even the Emperor wouldn’t have tolerated her.
Besides, this would bring her no benefit whatsoever.
If there was to be a power struggle, it would be between the legitimate heir (her son) and the eldest son—what did Side Concubine Cheng’s Second Prince have to do with it?
More importantly, whether it was to reassure her or to protect Side Concubine Cheng, the Crown Prince had already entrusted his eldest son, Hongxuan, to her for upbringing.
That was his stance.
If she still failed to recognize this and acted recklessly, the Shi family’s nine generations could be wiped out overnight.
The reason she could conduct herself with dignity and integrity was because the Crown Prince trusted the Shi family and was willing to let her take charge of the inner palace affairs.
The Crown Princess felt immensely fortunate that ever since she entered the palace, she had never taken a single misstep.
She had never allowed herself to become entangled in the typical power struggles among wives and concubines.
Among the Crown Prince’s brothers, she would occasionally summon and interact with their wives, and in doing so, she had heard countless sordid tales from the inner courts.
During one such gathering, she once overheard the Third Prince’s wife whispering behind her back to the Fifth Prince’s wife:
“All this talk about being virtuous—please! I don’t believe there’s a single truly virtuous woman in this palace. If my husband handed his eldest son over to me to raise, I could be just as ‘virtuous’ as she is!”
This was clearly a veiled jab at her.
But the Crown Princess wasn’t angry.
She knew the truth: A summer insect cannot comprehend ice.
People who had never seen the towering height of Mount Tai believed that the highest place was simply the four walls of their own courtyard.
That was why they viewed concubines as lifelong enemies and spent their entire lives obsessing over meaningless power struggles.
The Crown Princess let out a slow breath.
She lifted her gaze to the sky.
One day, they would come to understand—everything she was doing was right.
—
Meanwhile, Side Concubine Cheng, Wanyun, had no objections to the Crown Prince’s decision to send their two children to stay with their grandmother for the summer.
This arrangement was far more reassuring than leaving them in either the Crown Princess’s main palace or the Chunben Hall.
With her worries eased, she could finally look forward to leaving the palace for the Southern Tour.
—
About a month before their departure, the Crown Prince and Fourth Prince, Yinzhen, made a late-night visit to Qianqing Palace.
That night, neither of them returned to their residences.
The next morning, both princes went home and slept the entire day, utterly exhausted.
Meanwhile, several high-ranking officials, including the Grand Ministers and the Six Ministries’ Secretaries, were summoned.
Among them was the Eighth Prince, Yinti, who had just turned fifteen.
It was clear now—the Crown Prince’s plans for the Southern Tour had finally been made official.
—
The travel route was not too long:
They would travel west along the river to Gaoyou, then take the waterways down to Yangzhou.
Before reaching Suzhou and Hangzhou, they would make a detour through Huizhou, then proceed to Jiangning.
Finally, they would return to Beijing via Tongzhou along the western river routes.
The planned return date was May 17th.
This timing was crucial—by late May, Emperor Kangxi would be ready to mobilize his army against the Dzungars.
After laying out this plan, the Emperor’s tone suddenly shifted.
His voice grew stern as he demanded:
“How much silver is actually left in the national treasury? Ma Qi, speak truthfully!”
At these words, Ma Qi broke into a cold sweat and immediately knelt down.
Though his face was filled with fear, he merely uttered:
“Your servant is guilty.”
He did not say anything further—because he didn’t need to.
The Emperor already knew exactly how much silver remained.
This confrontation was merely a way to introduce the topic before launching a full investigation.
—
The Grand Ministers had actually been secretly summoned to the palace the previous night.
They already knew that the Crown Prince and Fourth Prince had submitted a memorial requesting an investigation into corruption and the repayment of embezzled funds.
Suoetu remained calm and composed—to him, this was just the Crown Prince demanding silver for his own use.
If the money had to come from his own pockets, he wasn’t particularly bothered.
Mingzhu, on the other hand, gently waved his feather fan, his expression placid and unreadable.
He had indeed borrowed tens of thousands of taels, but it wasn’t enough to cripple his financial stability.
His main concern was ensuring that the Emperor didn’t get too angry and that the fire didn’t spread to the First Prince’s faction.
As for the Six Ministries’ Secretaries, they felt anxious, but none of them were completely bankrupt, so they remained relatively composed.
Only Eighth Prince, Yinti, felt a sharp pang of unease.
Why was he the only prince standing there?
Where were the others?
His instincts screamed that something was wrong.
Out of the corner of his eye, he stole a glance at Mingzhu.
But Mingzhu did not even spare him a single look.
At that moment, Yinti’s hands clenched into tight fists.
Would this thankless, offensive task be pushed onto him?
Kangxi, furious to the point of laughter, turned to Liang Jiugong and ordered him to read aloud the memorial submitted by the Fourth Prince, Yinzhen.
The report detailed:
– The total tax revenue collected nationwide last year
– The amount converted into silver
– The profits from imperial estates
– The tribute received from vassal states
– The contributions from Mongolia
– The total government expenditures for the year
For thirty-four years, there had been no war.
Apart from the Crown Prince’s wedding, disaster relief efforts, imperial hunts, and the construction of Taihe Hall and Changchun Garden, the treasury had not incurred major expenses.
By all calculations, the national treasury should still hold fifty million taels of silver.
Yet in reality, less than half remained…
And with autumn tax collections still months away, plus an imminent military campaign, what was left was practically nothing.
To make matters worse:
– Over four million taels had been borrowed from the treasury by court officials and members of the imperial clan!
– Additional deficits stemmed from military stipends, canal transport costs, and salt administration funds, all of which had been allocated in advance.
Kangxi did not blame these pre-allocated funds.
After all, the loans to officials had all been personally approved by him, granted in small increments—a thousand taels here, two thousand there—so he had never given it much thought.
But who would have imagined that, over the years, these scattered loans had accumulated to such an enormous sum?
To make matters worse, many officials were shamelessly refusing to repay their debts!
Kangxi was seething with rage, grinding his teeth in frustration.
He felt as though his trust and generosity had been completely betrayed!
And to make matters even worse—Yinzhen’s investigation had revealed that more than a dozen officials had used these loans to issue high-interest private loans for personal profit!
—
Unbelievable!
His Crown Prince was struggling to fund a state tour, yet these corrupt officials were using imperial funds for private money-lending schemes?
Was this not outright theft?!
At this point, Kangxi was truly furious.
“I permitted you to borrow from the treasury out of compassion, knowing that some officials came from impoverished families and lacked personal wealth! This was meant to be an imperial favor!”
“And how have you repaid my kindness?!”
– Rampant corruption!
– Defaulting on loans!
– Engaging in usury!
“Now, the treasury’s accounts don’t even match up—no one knows where the silver has gone!”
“And yet, my Crown Prince—heir to the empire—was charged a personal debt of twenty thousand taels just to expand his own residence?!”
“Shang Zhi—are you insane?!”
Shang Zhi, the Minister overseeing the Imperial Household Department, fell to his knees with a loud thud, crawling forward to clutch the Emperor’s leg.
Tears and snot streamed down his face as he wailed:
“Your Majesty, the Imperial Household Department is impossible to manage! The deficits are overwhelming! We simply don’t have enough silver!”
—
“Get away from me! Cry, cry, cry—that’s all you ever do!”
With a swift kick, Kangxi sent him sprawling across the floor.
Then, suddenly, his gaze locked onto Yinti, the Eighth Prince.
“Old Eight!”
Yinti had remained silent throughout the ordeal.
But now, hearing his name, he immediately straightened up and responded:
“Your son is here, Royal Father.”
Kangxi’s hawk-like eyes pierced through him as he spoke:
“The Imperial Household Department will be handed over to you. You will assume the position of Grand Minister overseeing the department.”
“You must conduct a full investigation—find out exactly how much silver has been lost!”
“And as for the borrowed funds—you will ensure that every last tael is repaid to the treasury!”
“Can you handle this?”
For a moment, Yinti felt as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning.
At first, it seemed like an unbelievable reward, like a golden opportunity falling into his lap.
But the next instant, he realized—this was a trap.
Before he could fully process it, his vision spun, and he nearly collapsed on the spot.
But he forced himself to remain standing, clenching his teeth to steady himself.
Collecting debts from officials would undoubtedly offend many, but the position of Grand Minister of the Imperial Household Department… That was something Yinti had long desired.
He thought of Concubine Wei’s pale, worry-ridden face.
Falling to his knees, he declared firmly:
“Royal Father, I can do it!”
Mingzhu cast him a pitying glance.
The task was indeed difficult, but he did not object—better to have the Imperial Household Department in the hands of the Eighth Prince than in the hands of someone as unreliable as Shang Zhi, whose allegiances were uncertain.
Besides, half of the Ministry of Revenue was filled with Mingzhu’s people.
With his support, Yinti wouldn’t easily fall from grace—and this, too, seemed to be the Emperor’s way of maintaining balance.
– The Crown Prince was about to embark on his southern tour.
– The Crown Princess would soon take charge of the Phoenix Seal.
– Granting control of the Imperial Household Department to the Eighth Prince—it was a perfectly calculated move.
Suoetu immediately saw through Mingzhu’s scheming and, after a moment’s thought, stepped forward to pledge his allegiance:
“Your Majesty, my incompetent son also borrowed a few thousand taels from the treasury. I shall see that he repays it!
And as for the Hesheri clan—if any among them have taken loans, I will personally ensure they pay them back!”
Kangxi’s expression softened slightly.
“Good. That is the right approach. But do not be too harsh—if there are truly impoverished members within your clan, you, as their patriarch, should support them. Do not make things difficult for the Crown Prince.”
Suoetu, who had not received praise from the Emperor in a long time, immediately puffed out his chest in pride.
He even shot a smug glance at Mingzhu before responding eagerly:
“Your servant obeys Your Majesty’s command!”
Mingzhu, half-hidden behind his feather fan, quietly rolled his eyes.
What a show-off.
Still, if Suoetu was leading the charge on debt repayment, it would save Yinti a lot of trouble.
Feeling more at ease, Mingzhu chuckled:
“Suoetu is right. I shall also conduct a thorough audit of debts owed by my clan, so as not to trouble Your Majesty further.”
And with that, the matter was settled.
By the eighth of the second month, Yinti had already recovered over a million taels.
Though still young, no one dared underestimate him.
Even Mingzhu, watching from the sidelines, was smiling like a fox.
The entire imperial court was in an uproar, officials wailed in distress, and chaos ensued.
But the debt collection operation had managed to avoid implicating the Crown Prince or the Fourth Prince.
With these recovered funds, the Crown Prince’s journey could finally begin.
And if more money was needed, they would simply collect as they traveled.
Before setting off on his southern tour, the Crown Prince formally reported to the Emperor.
Apart from his trusted advisors and personal guards, he chose only his Fourth and Fifth Brothers to accompany him.
The Emperor granted permission, drawing attention from all corners of the palace.
But once the journey began, the Crown Prince made a surprising move:
He placed his Fourth and Fifth Brothers at the head of the procession, fully displaying their presence. While they drew the attention of officials across the provinces, the Crown Prince himself—along with Cheng Wanyun and 200 elite guards—disguised themselves as a merchant caravan, traveling through the Tongzhou post road to conduct a covert investigation.
As several ordinary blue-cloth carriages slipped quietly out of Shunzhen Gate, the bustling sounds of the city drifted through the curtains.
Inside the carriage, Cheng Wanyun’s eyes lit up.
The wind still carried a hint of dust. The sky was still an endless stretch of blue.
And yet, everything felt different.
Their first stop:
The starting point of the Grand Canal, the vital hub of grain transport—Tongzhou.
From there, they would travel by water to Tianjin, then swiftly make their way south to Yangzhou.