On the seventh of February, Emperor Kangxi issued a formal decree altering the harem hierarchy. Concubine Hui was elevated to Consort Hui, and Noble Lady Daijia was promoted to Concubine Cheng, granting her residency as the master of the Changchun Palace.
In the Yuqing Palace, Yinreng read the edict with a faint smile. History had officially diverged.
In his previous timeline, Hui had not been promoted individually; she was elevated at the end of the year alongside others. Daijia's historical fate was even worse. Despite birthing the Seventh Prince, Yinyou, she remained a low-ranking Noble Lady until the 48th year of Kangxi's reign, making her the most neglected mother among the elder princes.
Analysis: Daijia's current promotion was a direct result of Yinreng's subtle backing, the Grand Empress Dowager's favor, and her courage during the cowpox trials. The Emperor had shifted his perspective. While it might not be romantic love, it was a profound acknowledgement of her value.
More importantly, this promotion was a lifeline. In the Qing harem, the rank of "Concubine" ('Pin') was the critical threshold. Any woman below this rank was forbidden from raising her own biological children. By achieving the rank of Concubine, Daijia secured the legal right to raise Yinyou herself. Given Yinyou's congenital foot deformity, keeping him under her direct care was vital for his survival.
In the Changchun Palace, Daijia wept tears of pure relief as she held Yinyou, newly retrieved from the communal royal nursery.
***
In stark contrast, the atmosphere in the Yonghe Palace was suffocating.
Despite the table piled high with imperial rewards for her participation in the quarantine, Concubine De (Lady Uya) sat in silence. Her maid, Yujuan, was furious. "Your Grace, did someone sabotage you at the estate? Consort Hui and Concubine Cheng both received major title promotions. Why were you excluded? We must investigate!"
Uya waved a hand, her expression calm and analytical. "There is no conspiracy, Yujuan. This outcome is entirely logical."
She instructed her senior maid, Yuchan, to begin removing her heavy headdress while she explained the political reality. "Consort Hui's promotion is not just for her; it is a proxy reward for the First Prince, Yinshi. He was the only prince who physically took the vaccine, but he is too young to receive an official noble title. Therefore, the Emperor rewarded his mother. As for Daijia, she was the first to volunteer and secured the Grand Empress's backing. The Emperor elevated her so she could legally raise Yinyou."
Uya looked at her reflection in the bronze mirror. "What did I do? I merely went as a backup. Every woman in the harem offered to go; I was just the one selected. If the Emperor promoted me solely for that, it would incite mass resentment. To survive in this palace, you cannot obsess over short-term losses. We play the long game."
***
Three days later, Noble Lady Wei gave birth to the Eighth Prince, Yinsi. Kangxi immediately placed the child under Consort Hui's care.
This was expected. Wei lived in the Zhongcui Palace, which Consort Hui managed. Hui had protected Wei during her pregnancy, clearly intending to foster the child and absorb Wei into her political faction.
During the congratulatory banquet, Consort Tongjia watched the shifting alliances with toxic resentment.
Tongjia was desperate for a biological son, yet the lesser concubines kept producing princes. Worse, her attempts to cultivate loyal pawns had repeatedly failed. First Uya, and now Daijia, had slipped her leash and gained independent power.
Returning to her own Chengqian Palace, Tongjia watched through the window as a small boy chased a puppy in the courtyard. It was the Fourth Prince, Yinzhen—Uya's biological son, whom Tongjia was legally raising.
A cold, calculated plan formed in Tongjia's mind. She stepped outside and warmly called Yinzhen over, pulling the sweating toddler into a rare, affectionate embrace.
"Are you having fun with your dog, Yinzhen?" she asked smoothly, ordering a maid to fetch a warm towel.
Yinzhen, starved for maternal affection from his distant foster mother, eagerly leaned into the embrace. Within minutes, the two-year-old was happily calling her "Mother," thoroughly ensnared in her sudden display of warmth.
Once Yinzhen fell asleep, Tongjia turned to her head maid, Chunying. "From now on, stop isolating the Fourth Prince from Concubine De."
Chunying was shocked. "Your Grace?"
"Concubine De's new son, the Sixth Prince, has passed his first birthday and is healthy. She takes him walking in the imperial gardens daily," Tongjia noted, her voice chillingly rational. "Arrange for Yinzhen's wet nurses to cross paths with them. Ensure Yinzhen sees exactly how much Concubine De dotes on her new, 'biological' son."
The Strategy: Tongjia knew human nature. By showering Yinzhen with unprecedented love while simultaneously exposing him to his biological mother's explicit favoritism toward a younger sibling, she would forge an unbreakable trauma bond. Yinzhen would grow to resent Concubine De and become fiercely, violently loyal to Tongjia alone.
***
At the Yuqing Palace, Yinreng had just finished his martial arts drills and bathed when he noticed his eunuchs trying to catch a small, trembling white dog.
"Where did that come from?" Yinreng asked, drying his hair.
"It wandered in, Your Highness," his maid Xiacao replied. "It looks well-groomed. We were about to ask the surrounding palaces if anyone lost a pet."
"It looks like my Fourth Brother's dog, Xuetuan," Yinreng observed. Before he could send someone, a maid from the Chengqian Palace arrived at the gate, frantically asking if they had seen the dog. Right behind her stood little Yinzhen, peering anxiously into the courtyard.
Yinreng immediately walked over and invited him in. Yinzhen offered a stiff, formal bow. "Greetings, Crown Prince."
Yinreng frowned slightly. "Why are you standing outside? We are brothers. You don't need to wait for a formal summons to look for your dog." He signaled a eunuch to hand the dog to Yinzhen.
Yinzhen hugged the dog tightly. "Thank you, Crown Prince!"
"Just call me Second Brother," Yinreng corrected gently.
Yinzhen looked confused. "But the nannies say you are different. They say First Brother and Third Brother call you Crown Prince, so I must too."
Behind Yinzhen, his wet nurse dropped to her knees in terror, realizing the toddler had just exposed her private instructions.
Analysis: Yinreng understood the sociological damage Kangxi was inadvertently causing. By elevating Yinreng to a near-divine status and allowing the other princes to use his formal title instead of familial terms, Kangxi was building an invisible, impenetrable wall between Yinreng and his siblings. It was a recipe for future isolation and hostility.
"Tell them I said you can call me Crown Prince Brother," Yinreng compromised, softening the rigid hierarchy. He then ordered his staff to bring out a box of new wind-up toys—frogs and wooden boats, the latest commercial spin-offs from his glass and clock factories—and gifted them to the ecstatic toddler.
Their bonding was interrupted by a eunuch from the Emperor. "Your Highness, the Emperor asks you to change into casual clothes. He is taking you out of the palace."
Yinreng beamed, but noticing Yinzhen's immediate, crestfallen look of envy, he paused. "Have you ever been outside the palace, Fourth Brother?"
Yinzhen shook his head sadly. "I can't go."
"Who says?" Yinreng grinned, scooping the toddler up. "We'll go find Imperial Father and ask him to bring you!"
***
At the imperial gates, Kangxi looked at the extra child in Yinreng's arms with bewilderment. Beside Kangxi stood the First Prince, Yinshi.
Yinshi was internally seething. He had completed his studies perfectly and asked Kangxi for a solo outing as his reward. Kangxi had agreed, but immediately invited Yinreng. Now, Yinreng had brought a toddler. This was supposed to be 'his' reward!
Yinreng noticed Yinshi's thinly veiled glare and immediately executed a political maneuver. "Imperial Father, since Big Brother, Fourth Brother, and I are all going, it wouldn't be fair to leave Third Brother (Yinzhi) behind. The others are too young, but Third Brother will feel abandoned if he hears we left without him."
Yinshi's jaw clenched. 'Fair?! You hijacked my reward!'
Yinreng's Strategy: Yinreng knew Yinshi wanted to monopolize the Emperor. By flooding the outing with younger siblings, Yinreng transformed a competitive scenario into a family excursion, positioning himself as the caring, inclusive patriarch-in-training while denying Yinshi his solo audience.
Kangxi, entirely missing the subtext, found the idea of a large family outing charming. "Very well! Fetch the Third Prince!"
***
On the bustling streets of Beijing, the two youngest boys, Yinzhi and Yinzhen, were mesmerized. Yinreng acted as their guide, freely spending his own allowance to buy them candied haws and kites. Kangxi watched with deep satisfaction, admiring Yinreng's exemplary brotherly conduct.
Yinshi, realizing his sulking was only making Yinreng look better, decided to compete for the younger boys' admiration.
The group stopped at a sugar painting stall. The game involved spinning a wheel; wherever the needle landed, the vendor drew that animal in melted sugar. The grand prize was a complex, massive Qilin. Naturally, the two toddlers desperately wanted the Qilin, but kept spinning cheap fish and birds.
"Let me do it!" Yinshi declared, stepping up. Relying on his martial arts training, he tried to perfectly calculate the force required to land on the Qilin.
He failed. Five times. Ten times. Fifteen times.
Stubborn and humiliated, Yinshi kept throwing coins at the vendor until, on his sixteenth try, the needle finally clicked onto the Qilin. The toddlers cheered. Yinshi laughed triumphantly. "See! I told you I could do it!"
However, there was an immediate problem: there was only one Qilin, and two toddlers. Both stared at Yinshi expectantly.
Sweat beaded on Yinshi's forehead. He knew he couldn't replicate the spin. His martial arts techniques were useless against the wheel. He froze, unable to promise a second one.
Yinreng stepped forward, bypassing the game's mechanics entirely with pure capitalism. He leaned close to the vendor and discreetly handed him a solid silver ingot—an absurd amount of money for street candy.
The vendor's eyes widened in sheer panic and joy. "Y-Yes, young master! Please, spin!"
Yinreng spun the wheel. It landed on the Qilin.
He spun again. Qilin.
A third time. Qilin.
A fourth time. Qilin.
Yinshi's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. 'It was rigged! There's a hidden brake mechanism!' Furious at being scammed for sixteen rounds, Yinshi lunged toward the terrified vendor.
Yinreng seamlessly blocked him. "Let it go, Big Brother," he murmured softly. "It's basic street economics. The game costs two copper coins. If the wheel were purely random, people would frequently win the massive Qilin, which takes immense time and sugar to craft. The vendor would go bankrupt in a day. The rig ensures he makes a living wage while ensuring no customer leaves completely empty-handed. It's a tax on the persistent."
Kangxi was watching. Yinshi swallowed his rage, not wanting to look petty over a street vendor's survival tactics.
With five Qilins now in hand, Yinreng distributed them to his brothers and gave the largest, most intricate one to Kangxi. The Emperor beamed, deeply touched by his son's filial piety. The toddlers danced around Yinreng, praising him as the greatest brother ever.
Yinshi bit the head off his Qilin. It tasted like ash. He had relied on brute effort; Yinreng had simply bought the system.
Realizing the imperial guards were now awkwardly holding dozens of the leftover, smaller sugar paintings from Yinshi's failed attempts, Yinreng had a final idea.
He bought a straw display pole from a nearby vendor, stuck all the surplus sugar paintings and candied haws into it, and stood on the street corner. "Sugar paintings! Discounted sugar paintings! One copper for small, two for large! Candied haws on sale!"
The vendor, having already made six months' wages from Yinreng's silver ingot, happily packed up his stall and went home early, leaving the market to them.
Because Yinreng was heavily undercutting the market price, a crowd quickly formed. He organized his brothers into a supply chain: the toddlers yelled to attract customers, Yinshi handed out the candy, and Yinreng handled the accounting.
Sitting at a nearby noodle stand, Emperor Kangxi watched his four sons running a makeshift business together, laughing and cooperating. The Emperor drank his tea, his heart full of absolute contentment.