Kangxi's expression shifted imperceptibly. He shot a sharp glance at Yinreng, who was standing beside him.
Yinreng: '???' 'I swear I didn't mean to eavesdrop!' Yinreng genuinely hadn't intended to uncover a massive imperial secret. He had simply panicked and followed his Father when he heard the Grand Empress Dowager was coughing up blood. If he had known the crisis was related to Emperor Shunzhi, he would have bolted in the opposite direction. Now he was trapped in the room, suffocated by a secret he wasn't supposed to know.
Sumalagu respectfully presented the urgent letter from Mount Wutai.
Kangxi scanned it, his expression twisting into a complex knot of emotions. The letter was brief: 'Master Xingchi is severely ill. His time on earth grows short. He requests a final meeting with His Majesty, and suggests the Crown Prince accompany him.'
"I must go to Mount Wutai!" the Grand Empress Dowager cried, her voice tearing with grief. "Emperor, I must see him!"
"Grandmother, I will go," Kangxi quickly soothed her. "I will bring the imperial physicians. The doctors on the mountain are inferior. Our physicians will cure him, do not despair."
"In all these decades... this is the first time he has actively sent a message," she choked out, shaking her head. "If he wasn't... if he wasn't..."
She couldn't finish the sentence. Fulin (Emperor Shunzhi) was her own flesh and blood. She knew his stubborn, reclusive nature perfectly. He would never initiate contact unless he was truly on his deathbed. The sheer agony of the realization sent another wave of metallic blood rising in her throat, but she forced it down, terrified that if Kangxi saw her bleed again, he would forbid her from traveling.
"Very well. We go," Kangxi declared decisively. "I will order the guard to prepare. We leave at dawn."
The Grand Empress hesitated. "You are the Emperor. It is dangerous for the Son of Heaven to leave the capital so suddenly. I should go alone."
"No, Grandmother," Kangxi refused gently. "Under normal circumstances, yes. But knowing that he... I must go."
The Grand Empress parted her lips but remained silent. She understood the unspoken truth. This would be their final meeting. Fulin needed his son present for his passing. Furthermore, the letter explicitly requested Kangxi and specifically named Yinreng; Fulin clearly had final arrangements to make.
Standing in the corner, Yinreng felt excruciatingly awkward. He stared at his own nose, trying to shrink into invisibility.
Unfortunately, Kangxi turned directly to him. "Pack your bags, Baocheng. You leave with us tomorrow."
Yinreng: Nani?!
'Why me?!' he panicked internally. 'I've never met the man! What emotional connection could I possibly have? Sumalagu only called him 'that master.' The Emperor hasn't officially told me who he is yet! I can still pretend ignorance! If I go to Mount Wutai, I am actively participating in a state secret!'
Despite his entire body screaming in refusal, he had zero authority to decline a direct imperial edict.
***
The ascent up Mount Wutai was brutal. Even riding in palanquins carried by the strongest imperial guards, the steep, jagged paths were jarring. While Kangxi and Yinreng could endure the physical strain, the elderly Grand Empress Dowager, already weakened by her internal bleeding, deteriorated rapidly. Kangxi frequently ordered the procession to halt so he could personally check on her.
Halfway up the mountain, observing her ashen face and labored breathing, Kangxi finally intervened.
"Grandmother, we must stop," he urged softly. "Please, return to the base camp. I will take Baocheng to the summit."
The Grand Empress stubbornly refused at first, but Yinreng quickly joined his Father in pleading with her. Finally, staring up at the distant peaks with tears in her eyes, she compromised. Kangxi ordered a contingent of guards to safely escort her back down, while he and Yinreng continued the climb.
Upon reaching the summit, Yinreng was surprised. He had expected a desolate, freezing ascetic retreat. Instead, he found a thriving, vibrant monastery. Massive tracts of land outside the temple walls had been cultivated into neat, highly productive farms.
The abbot, having received advance notice, was waiting at the gates to guide them deep into the complex.
They bypassed the main halls, winding through three inner courtyards until they reached a small, secluded compound. This was Shunzhi's residence.
Kangxi ordered Yinreng to wait in the courtyard while he entered the main room alone.
Left to his own devices, Yinreng began to explore. The courtyard was modest, containing five or six elegant rooms and a well-tended garden in full bloom. A young boy, roughly twelve years old, sat at a stone table, furiously writing.
But what completely paralyzed Yinreng was the object standing near the table: a manual, lever-action water pump.
Yinreng's eyes widened in absolute shock, his breath catching in his throat. 'That is impossible.' While common in rural areas in the 20th century, a pressurized mechanical water pump simply did not exist in the Qing Dynasty!
Drawn like a magnet, Yinreng walked over, staring at the iron mechanism.
The boy at the table, noticing his intense focus, kindly explained, "It's a water well. You grab this long handle and push it down, like this... see? Water comes out!"
Water gushed from the spout. It was a perfectly functional mechanical pump.
Yinreng slowly turned to the boy, carefully testing the waters. "This is a very novel device. It seems highly convenient."
"Yes, it is far more efficient than a traditional rope and bucket," the boy nodded.
"Who built it?" Yinreng asked, his voice tight.
"I did."
Yinreng: !!!
"You can play with it if you want, but don't waste the water," the boy said casually, pointing to a wooden bucket. "Pump it in there; we can use it for cooking or watering the flowers."
The boy immediately returned to his writing, completely unaware that he had just shattered Yinreng's understanding of reality.
Heart pounding, Yinreng stepped behind the boy to peek at what he was writing. He nearly collapsed.
It was a test paper. There were only three questions, but they were terrifying.
Two physics problems: one requiring the application of Newton's Laws of Motion, the other requiring Galilean relativity.
One mathematics problem: requiring the application of Ceva's Theorem in geometry.
Yinreng: !!! 'What the actual hell is going on?!'
The boy frowned deeply, scribbling calculations on scrap paper. He made a minor error, caught it, corrected his formula, and arrived at the exact correct answer for all three problems.
Having finished the test, the boy dropped his brush and stared anxiously at the closed door of the main room.
Yinreng opened his mouth to interrogate the boy, but the door suddenly swung open.
The boy grabbed the paper and sprinted inside. "Master! You said I couldn't enter until I finished. I'm done! How do you feel? Is your chest tight? Do you need your medicine?"
Yinreng stepped into the doorway, finally seeing the man on the bed. He looked to be in his mid-forties. Despite being ravaged by illness, his facial structure bore a striking, undeniable resemblance to Emperor Kangxi.
The man offered a weak, exhausted smile. He took the test paper, set it aside without looking at it, and turned to Kangxi. "This child was raised in the monastery. He knows nothing of worldly etiquette or court rules. Please do not fault his bluntness."
"I would not hold a child to such strict standards," Kangxi replied softly.
Shunzhi then weakly waved Yinreng forward. "I remember you are called Baocheng?"
"Yes," Yinreng answered respectfully. Since Kangxi still had not officially confirmed the man's identity, Yinreng could not reveal his prior knowledge. He simply bowed with the standard courtesy owed to an elder.
Shunzhi smiled gently. "Do you know who I am?"
Yinreng glanced nervously at Kangxi before replying carefully. "I have a guess, but I am not certain. Are you my Grandfather?"
"I am."
Yinreng immediately dropped to his knees, performing a full, formal kowtow.
"May I speak with the boy alone for a moment?" Shunzhi asked Kangxi.
Unable to deny his dying father, Kangxi nodded and stepped out. The boy, Lingguang, refused to leave until Shunzhi gently coaxed him out of the room.
Only the grandfather and grandson remained.
Though his brief conversation with Kangxi had severely depleted his energy, Shunzhi forced himself to stay awake. He handed Yinreng the boy's test paper. "Do you understand the mathematics on this page?"
Yinreng hesitated, his mind racing to analyze the trap. He remained silent.
Shunzhi then reached under his pillow and pulled out a heavy, clearly modern textbook: 'The Comprehensive Guide to Hybrid Rice Cultivation*.'
"I assume you are intimately familiar with this book."
Yinreng stared at the modern paperback, his jaw dropping. 'Holy shit. What is happening?!'
Seeing Yinreng's absolute shock, Shunzhi chuckled, which immediately triggered a violent coughing fit. Yinreng instinctively rushed forward, adjusting Shunzhi's pillows to help him sit upright and breathe easier.
The moment Yinreng's hand touched Shunzhi's arm, the System violently buzzed in his mind.
[System: HOST! HOST! I DETECT A FREQUENCY IDENTICAL TO MY OWN ORIGIN CODE! TOUCH HIM AGAIN!]
Startled, Yinreng kept his hand firmly on Shunzhi's back, gently patting him.
[System: HOST! It is System 001! It is my Creator's original prototype!]
Yinreng: ???
Catching his breath, Shunzhi looked at Yinreng. "Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm. Ten years ago, I accidentally acquired a... divine artifact. It is invisible, bound directly to my soul. It contains a spatial dimension filled with shocking, worldly books detailing advanced mechanics, agriculture, and medicine.
"I focused heavily on the agricultural texts. For years, I directed the monks to clear land and attempt crossbreeding experiments based on the books, but I failed repeatedly. Then, I heard rumors that you had succeeded. You are far more capable—and perhaps luckier—than I am. Do you know why I asked your Father to bring you here?"
Yinreng shook his head numbly.
"Because I suspected the truth," Shunzhi smiled. "You also possess one of these spatial artifacts, don't you?"
Analysis: Yinreng's brain rapidly processed the data. There was no second time-traveler. Shunzhi had somehow bonded with a modern AI system, gained access to its digital library, and, upon hearing of Yinreng's inventions, logically deduced that Yinreng had found a similar "magic space."
The System scoffed indignantly in Yinreng's mind.
[System: I am an advanced, sentient AI! 001 is a primitive, buggy alpha-build! How dare he compare me to a mere storage drive! Host, tell him how magnificent I am!]
Yinreng ignored the narcissistic AI. Deciding that confirming Shunzhi's theory was the safest, most logical path, he nodded. "Yes. I do."
Shunzhi let out a long sigh of immense relief. "Thank the heavens. I was terrified that when I died, this artifact and all its knowledge would vanish. I copied down the physical books, but there are... 'electronic documents' I could not replicate. Knowing you have a copy ensures the knowledge survives."
Yinreng felt a sudden pang of complex empathy for the dying Emperor.
"The knowledge in these books is profound, but incredibly difficult," Shunzhi continued weakly. "I studied for years with little success. But Lingguang... that boy is a genius. His comprehension far surpasses mine. I feared his education would end with my death. Will you promise me that you will study with him and support each other?"
Yinreng realized the true weight of the request. "You want us to ensure this knowledge is passed down to the world?"
"Yes. The theories are dense, but their practical application could save millions. It is too difficult for one man to decipher alone. But if you work together, generation after generation... humanity will advance. I will not live to see it. But you will."
Deeply moved by Shunzhi's selfless vision for the future, Yinreng nodded firmly. "I promise, Grandfather."
Satisfied, Shunzhi smiled and drifted into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Yinreng carefully tucked him in, then mentally interrogated his AI. "Explain. Now."
[System: Host, as I mentioned previously, my Creator ran several failed experiments before successfully sending me through time. The systems disintegrated in the chronal transit.]
"So Shunzhi bonded with the disintegrated remains of the first AI?" Yinreng deduced.
[System: Precisely. System 001 was highly unstable. Shunzhi only absorbed a fragmented shard of its code. He only gained access to the inventory space and a fraction of the digital library stored within it.]
"If it's numbered 001, and you are 007, where are 002 through 006? Did your Creator just shotgun AI cores into the Qing Dynasty?" Yinreng demanded.
[System: Negative. Models 002 through 006 were destroyed in the lab due to critical architecture flaws. The Creator built me, and because I miraculously achieved full sapience, he spared me despite my minor imperfections.]
Yinreng: ...
"How many shards did 001 break into?" Yinreng pressed. "If Shunzhi found one, could there be others out there?"
[System: Unknown. However, survival parameters are strict. A shard must retain at least 33% of its core code to avoid total data deletion in the time-stream. My scans indicate Shunzhi's shard contains roughly 60% of 001's mass. Therefore, mathematically, there can be at most ONE other surviving shard in existence.]
[System: Furthermore, you have nothing to fear. Even a fully intact 001 is vastly inferior to me. It lacks video tutorials, environmental scanning, and interactive guidance. It is merely a digital PDF viewer. Shunzhi's inability to comprehend the science proves the superiority of my interactive teaching modules! However... 001 does possess one item I lack.]
[System: It has the Spiritual Spring.]
"Spiritual Spring?" Yinreng immediately grasped the tactical implications.
[System: The name is romanticized marketing. It is actually a highly concentrated, experimental pharmaceutical serum developed by my Creator's company. It was stored in 001's inventory. It is not infinite.]
[System: It significantly boosts the immune system, promotes cellular regeneration (anti-aging), and cures minor viral infections. However, it cannot cure terminal illnesses, reverse natural aging, or grant superhuman abilities. It is simply a very potent, side-effect-free vitamin cocktail.]
Yinreng's eyes narrowed as the pieces fell into place. "If the other shard has the Spiritual Spring... I know exactly who has it."
[System: Who?!]
"Calculate it yourself, genius," Yinreng smirked mentally, cutting off the connection.
Yinreng opened the door to find Kangxi waiting silently in the courtyard.
"Father. Grandfather is asleep."
Kangxi nodded, staring at the closed door with heavy eyes. "What did he say to you?"
"He asked about you, Father," Yinreng lied smoothly, crafting a narrative to heal Kangxi's emotional wounds. "He asked if you were healthy, if the empire was stable. He said he was too ashamed to ask you directly."
Kangxi froze.
"He said he was a terrible Emperor," Yinreng continued softly. "He said he was selfish to abandon the throne and crush an eight-year-old boy under the weight of the empire. He said you are a far greater Emperor than he ever was. And he ordered me to be a filial, loyal son to you."
Kangxi's breath hitched. His relationship with his father was a scarred, agonizing wound. He remembered Shunzhi briefly loving him as a toddler, only to utterly abandon him the moment Consort Donggo became pregnant. When Donggo gave birth, Shunzhi publicly declared the infant his "first son," erasing Kangxi's existence entirely. The trauma of that rejection had hardened Kangxi's heart for decades.
But hearing Yinreng relay these words of profound regret and validation, combined with the reality of his father dying in the next room, shattered Kangxi's lingering resentment. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Seeing the emotional breakthrough, Yinreng gently offered, "Father, the couriers bring state memorials daily, and Great-Grandmother is waiting at the base camp. You must manage the empire. Let me stay here and fulfill your filial duties to Grandfather on your behalf."
Kangxi, struggling to process his grief and unable to endure the emotional intensity of the deathbed watch, gratefully accepted the offer.
For the next four days, Kangxi only visited briefly at dawn and dusk. Yinreng and the boy, Lingguang, remained by Shunzhi's side constantly.
By noon on the fourth day, Shunzhi's condition seemingly improved. He ate half a bowl of rice and spoke clearly. However, the atmosphere grew heavy with dread. Everyone in the room recognized the phenomenon: terminal lucidity. The final surge of energy before death.
Knowing the end had come, Shunzhi summoned Kangxi and kept Yinreng and Lingguang in the room.
"I have made terrible mistakes in my life," Shunzhi rasped, his breathing shallow. "I was a cruel son to my mother. It was right of you to stop her from climbing the mountain. She should not have to watch me die. I have caused her enough pain."
He weakly grasped Kangxi's hand. "And I was a terrible father to you. I failed you in every conceivable way. Thank the heavens you surpassed me."
Shunzhi then took Yinreng's small hand and placed it over Kangxi's. "Promise me you will never become what I became. Promise me you will remain fiercely loyal to each other. Do not let the throne poison your blood. People say the Imperial Family has no true affection. Prove them wrong."
Shunzhi paused, catching his breath.
"Xuanya... I have one final burden to place upon you," Shunzhi pleaded, looking at Kangxi.
"Anything, Father," Kangxi swore.
"Lingguang, come here," Shunzhi ordered the boy to kneel before the Emperor. "I found this child abandoned at the base of the mountain twelve years ago. He has been my constant companion. He is my only remaining attachment to this world."
Kangxi's eyes flickered with suspicion. 'Abandoned? Unlikely.' Shunzhi was only forty-five. He was thirty-three twelve years ago. He wasn't an orthodox monk; he was a man in his prime hiding in a monastery. It was highly probable Lingguang was Shunzhi's illegitimate son.
But Shunzhi's next words shattered that theory.
"I refuse to let him rot in this monastery as a monk," Shunzhi stated firmly. "He deserves to see the world. You are the Emperor; it is difficult for you to adopt him directly. I have written a letter to Prince Fuquan (Kangxi's older brother). Have Fuquan adopt Lingguang into his household. Give him a legitimate identity. Just... please, watch over him."
Analysis: If Lingguang were Shunzhi's biological son, he would be Kangxi's brother. Having Prince Fuquan adopt him would make the boy Fuquan's son, completely destroying the generational hierarchy. Shunzhi, a stickler for imperial lineage, would never permit such a chaotic breach of protocol. The boy truly was an adopted orphan.
Relieved of the political headache, Kangxi agreed immediately. "It will be done."
"I have few possessions," Shunzhi sighed, his eyes drooping. "But I leave my entire library to the boy."
"He may keep it all," Kangxi assured him.
"I heard Yinreng is studying Western sciences under Ferdinand Verbiest," Shunzhi noted weakly. "Many of my books cover Western mechanics. Have Lingguang study alongside Yinreng in the capital."
Kangxi's protective instincts flared. He rigidly controlled every single person allowed near his Heir Apparent. To suddenly insert a random, unknown orphan into Yinreng's inner circle was a massive security risk.
But looking into his dying father's pleading eyes, Kangxi swallowed his paranoia and nodded. "They will study together."
Relieved of his final anxiety, Shunzhi smiled at the boy. "Call him Imperial Uncle, Lingguang."
Lingguang kowtowed deeply. "Imperial Uncle."
Kangxi unclipped a flawless jade pendant from his belt and handed it to the boy. "I did not bring an appropriate gift. Take this for now. When we return to the capital, you will receive your proper status."
Lingguang accepted it respectfully. "Thank you, Imperial Uncle."
Having settled his earthly affairs, Shunzhi spoke with them for a few more minutes before exhaustion violently pulled him under. He fell into a deep sleep.
That night, Yinreng was jolted awake by the sound of raw, guttural sobbing coming from the main room. Recognizing Lingguang's voice, Yinreng threw on his robe and sprinted down the hall, nearly colliding with Kangxi at the door.
They shared a dark, silent look before pushing into the room.
It was over.
Emperor Shunzhi—the man who conquered China for the Qing Dynasty, faked his own death, and secretly bonded with an AI from the future—had passed away.