Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel)

Suoetu went to attend the banquet.

This time, Golovin was exceedingly humble and amiable, completely different from his previous arrogance. Suoetu believed that the Russians were intimidated by the Qing troops stationed across the river and had finally decided to yield. In turn, he decided to show sincerity, drinking and conversing freely with the Russian envoy. However, in doing so, he inadvertently revealed the ultimate bottom line for negotiations—to set the border at Nerchinsk.

This was Emperor Kangxi’s final fallback position, a last resort to be used only when absolutely necessary. How could Suoetu disclose such a critical detail when the Russians’ true intentions were still unclear?

In his dream, Yinreng was so anxious he wanted to rush forward and cover Suoetu’s mouth, but he was paralyzed and unable to move.

On the third day of negotiations, the Qing delegation faced a Russian envoy that had reversed its attitude and now returned with forceful demands.

The talks quickly became mired in a deadlock, and the Qing delegation found itself on the defensive. Realizing the gravity of his mistake, Suoetu handed the negotiation duties over to Xu Risheng and Zhang Cheng, then secluded himself in his tent, alternating between writing letters of apology to Kangxi and crying.

In the end, after sixteen days of talks—helped along by unrest among Nerchinsk’s serfs—the Qing agreed to cede all lands east of the Argun River, the Khalkha region, and Lake Baikal in exchange for peace with Russia.

Upon returning to Beijing, Suoetu didn’t even enter his own home. Instead, he was immediately summoned to the Qianqing Palace to meet with the Emperor. As soon as he stepped into the hall, he willingly removed his court hat and peacock feather insignia, knelt down, and awaited punishment.

He didn’t have to wait long before Kangxi hurled a teacup at him, dousing his head with tea.

Mingzhu, who was standing nearby fanning himself, winced when he heard the loud crash. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Suoetu.

In his dream, Yinreng could only sigh deeply at this point.

He couldn’t understand why he was having such a vivid, interconnected dream.

What was even stranger was that, within the dream, he was fully aware that he was dreaming.

But wasn’t it only late March now? Just today, there had been a debate in front of the Emperor about whether to negotiate with the Russians, and no envoy had been chosen yet. How could he dream of something that would happen next month?

Moreover, it was a negotiation that ended in utter failure, ceding so much land to Russia. Yinreng thought of the Argun River—an endless expanse of grasslands, vast and tranquil as if it were a domain where gods roamed. The water flowed quietly, wild ducks and grey cranes soared on the wind, herders galloped on horseback, raising their arms to whistle, summoning hawks and falcons that broke through the sky…

The Argun River… it was the “Mother River” of the Jurchen people!

Yinreng felt an indescribable frustration and suffocation. How much more enraged must Kangxi have been?

He saw Kangxi scolding Suoetu for an hour straight, even dragging in Empress Hesheri: “Why haven’t you inherited even a fraction of your sister’s intelligence and sensitivity?”

Yinreng felt embarrassed just hearing it.

Soon after, a nagging doubt began to grow in his heart—this dream felt so long.

As if to confirm his thoughts, he caught a faint whiff of tea, mingled with the aroma of fruits. Someone was brewing tea? It seemed like someone was also humming a little tune.

Where had he heard it before?

Ah, yes. That “The sky is waiting for the rain to come…” Wasn’t that Cheng Gege humming a song from her hometown?

Then, without warning, he woke up.

There were no cunning Russian envoys, no boundless northern steppes.

He was still curled up in the swaying recliner. Outside the window, dusk had fallen over the long palace alleys. The vermilion walls and glazed tiles were bathed in a hazy orange glow. Crows flew over the rooftops, perched on the long bamboo poles used by eunuchs to light the lamps, preening their feathers.

It’s time to light the lamps…

Only then did Yinreng realize that he seemed to have been asleep for a very, very long time.

Turning his head, Yinreng saw that Cheng Gege hadn’t noticed he had woken up. She was sitting cross-legged on a cushion, sipping tea while reading a storybook. Beside her were bowls of shelled pine nuts and preserved fruits prepared by the maids. She was humming softly to herself, completely at ease.

Yinreng quietly watched her, feeling a rare sense of tranquility in the moment.

It wasn’t until she sang the line, “The moonlight is salvaged…” that Cheng Wanyun realized the Crown Prince was awake. He was leaning on his elbow, watching her with interest. Who knew how long he had been listening?

“You seem to like this tune,” the Crown Prince remarked confidently.

She no longer panicked like she did the first time he caught her humming. Instead, she calmly nodded and was about to explain that she wasn’t very musical and only knew this one song (which was actually true). However, before she could say a word, the Crown Prince added, “The melody is fine, but the lyrics are rather suggestive. From now on, only sing it for me.”

Cheng Wanyun: “…” ‘This is a masterpiece of Chinese-style romance! What would a Qing-era person like you know?’

With a polite smile, she acknowledged his instruction and, under his insistence, agreed to sing it only for him in the future.

As dinnertime approached, the Crown Prince still lounged on her recliner, flipping through the storybook she had been reading earlier, showing no intention of leaving.

Cheng Wanyun grew increasingly anxious. Wasn’t he supposed to be heading out soon?

Just as she was fretting, the saying “speak of the devil, and he shall appear” came true. He Baozhong entered and reported, “Your Highness, you’re awake. His Majesty has instructed that there’s no need for you to make the trip. The Imperial Noble Concubine has turned a corner and is now stable, but she needs rest and cannot be disturbed. This way, you also avoid any risk of catching an illness.”

The Imperial Noble Concubine Tong Jia had been chronically ill for years. Everyone in the palace lived in constant concern, mentally preparing for the likelihood that Jingren Palace might not make it through the year. If the worst had come to pass, the mourning bells would have already tolled, and the Crown Prince certainly wouldn’t have been allowed to sleep until dusk. Clearly, she had been pulled back from death’s door.

Even though he had anticipated the outcome, Yinreng still felt a wave of relief at the news.

“In that case, let’s dine here,” Yinreng said, his mood lightening. He casually picked up her teacup and took a sip. “This tea is quite good. Hmm? Why didn’t you pour me a cup?”

Cheng Wanyun: “…”

It seemed she had no chance of enjoying that recliner herself today.

—

Meanwhile, in the east wing, Side Concubine Li sat alone by the window, gently playing her zither.

Before her marriage, she was well-known as a talented woman, but who remembers that now?

Mama Jin entered with a bowl of medicine, and when she saw the thin, bony hand peeking out from beneath Lady Li’s sleeve, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow. Her eyes grew misty.

Side Concubine Li noticed her arrival and paused her zither playing, leaning on the table to try and stand.

Chun Jian hurried to assist her, but Side Concubine Li’s sudden movement caused a wave of dizziness and chest tightness so severe that she almost vomited the plain porridge she had eaten earlier.

“Quick, bring water!” Mama Jin set down the medicine bowl and stamped her foot anxiously.

Side Concubine Li struggled to speak, weakly waving her hand. After some effort, she finally caught her breath and gasped, “Don’t fuss, Mama. I just want to sit outside for a while.”

Mama Jin coaxed her gently, like comforting a child. “The wind is strong outside. It’s better to stay indoors, take your medicine, and rest for a while.”

Side Concubine Li shook her head. “It’s too stifling inside.” She paused, then asked, “Has the Crown Prince still not returned to the palace? Send someone to check at the front. He’s been staying at Qianqing Palace for days now. Should we send some daily essentials for him? We mustn’t let His Majesty think the people serving the prince are neglectful.”

Mama Jin thought of the message delivered earlier by a young eunuch. It felt like a lump in her throat—neither swallowable nor spittable. For the first time, she felt a rebellious resentment toward the Crown Prince. Supporting side concubine Li carefully, she said, “You should think more about yourself. You wouldn’t be in such a state if you cared for yourself properly.”

Side Concubine Li’s expression turned sorrowful. “When have I ever mistreated myself? It’s just the lesson left to me by the child I’ll never have…” She smiled bitterly through her tears. “Didn’t the imperial physicians already say this? This illness can’t be rushed; it can only be managed little by little… Mama, even if I’m unwilling, I can only let go of any hope now.”

As she spoke, tears streamed down her face.

Mama Jin couldn’t hold back either and hugged her tightly, weeping. “My poor Xiulang… The heavens are so blind to let you suffer like this. Even the Crown Prince has been bewitched by that lowborn little vixen, neglecting even his long-time companion…”

Side Concubine Li froze upon hearing this, her tear-streaked face snapping up. “Has the Crown Prince returned?”

Mama Jin stood stunned, then slapped herself hard.

Side Concubine Li needed no further explanation. After all… her medical records must have already been presented to the Emperor. Her illness, ‘Xiahong zhi zheng’ (consumption), meant she could no longer serve the Crown Prince. It was only a matter of time before new people would be brought into Yuqing Palace.

There is always laughter for the newcomers. But when has anyone heard the tears of the forgotten?

Side Concubine Li, surprisingly, couldn’t cry anymore. She thought back to when Cheng Gege and Yang Gege had first entered the palace. At the time, she had been full of ambition, hopeful that she could recover her health and bear another child. But within just a month, her condition had deteriorated to this point—how could she possibly hope to win back the Crown Prince’s favor now?

“The Crown Prince… did he go to Cheng Gege’s quarters?” Side Concubine Li asked, her face still streaked with tears. Seeing Mama Jin hesitantly nod, a trace of ruthless determination began to surface in her despair-filled eyes.

Initially, she hadn’t paid any attention to Cheng Gege. Her status was far too low; His Majesty would never allow her to become the Crown Prince’s concubine. That was why Yang Gege had been brought in. But now, that very low status had become Cheng Gege’s advantage.

Side Concubine Li had once felt she had plenty of time—she was still young and could always have children later. But the imperial physicians had subtly hinted that she might never bear another child in her lifetime.

Without the ability to bear children or maintain favor, once the Crown Prince married the Crown Princess, she would truly become useless, squeezed into irrelevance.

A firstborn son, even a daughter, would become her greatest support for the future.

Even if the Crown Princess gave birth to a legitimate heir later, it wouldn’t shake her position.

As for Yang Gege… if she gave birth to the firstborn son, she’d likely be elevated to concubine. And neither the Crown Prince nor His Majesty would ever permit side concubine Li to adopt a child from Lady Yang.

Side Concubine Li stared at the dark, murky bowl of medicine in front of her and drank it down in one gulp.

The mother had to be of humble origins, and it had to be the Crown Prince’s first child. Only then could she have the standing to make her case.

“Mama, did Kang Haizhu go to do Yang Gege’s hair today?” Side Concubine Li suddenly asked.

Mama Jin leaned closer and replied softly, “Yang Gege seems quite fond of Kang. She specifically had him style her hair today, used fresh hair oil, and adorned herself head to toe in pearls and jade. Then she headed to Cheng Gege’s quarters. Not long after, news came from Cheng Gege’s maid, Liu’er, saying the Crown Prince had returned from Qianqing Palace. Strangely, the moment he arrived, Yang Gege left shortly after.”

Hearing this, Side Concubine Li sneered. “What’s strange about that? It’s clear the Crown Prince sent her away. She doesn’t realize it yet, but no matter what she does, in his eyes, she’s just embarrassing herself.”

This was why, although she felt bitter about Cheng Gege’s favor, Side Concubine Li never made the mistake of pushing herself into the Crown Prince’s view.

“We don’t need to interfere,” Side Concubine Li said, her voice steady, as though she had regained a newfound will to live. “Let Yang Gege keep banging her head against the wall. As for Cheng Gege… the more she wins the Crown Prince’s favor, the better for me now.”

The Crown Prince was already fifteen, and rumors had long circulated that his wedding would likely take place within the next couple of years.

It would be best to let him spoil Cheng Gege until she became utterly unaware of her own limits. Once she raised Cheng Gege’s child, a lowly concubine favored only for her charm would inevitably become a thorn in the future Crown Princess’s side—saving Lady Li the trouble of dirtying her own hands.