Outside the Yonghe Palace.
"Fourth Prince," the maid greeted. Yinzhen nodded in acknowledgment. This was Huaping, recently promoted after Yujuan's execution for treason. Her presence was a stark reminder of the palace's shifting tides.
"Is my mother awake?" Yinzhen asked, pausing briefly. "Is she still relying on incense to sleep?"
Inside the chamber, Consort De and her confidante, Yuchan, froze. Yuchan looked at her mistress, whispering a warning. "Your Ladyship, the authorities proved the Tiandihui rebels killed the Sixth Prince. Answer Song's final words were a trap to sever your bond with the Fourth Prince. You cannot let grief blind you. Do not give your enemies the satisfaction of watching you destroy your own foundation."
'Do not let Tongjia win.' The thought cut through Consort De's sorrow like a blade. Grief was a luxury she could not afford; survival required absolute control. She forced her erratic breathing to steady and locked her trauma behind a mask of maternal calm.
"Let the Fourth Prince in," she ordered, her voice flat and controlled.
Yinzhen entered and bowed. Seeing his mother's composed, albeit pale, face, he felt a measure of relief. "You have lost weight, Mother."
Yuchan brought a chair. "Did you sleep well?" Yinzhen asked, taking his seat. "Incense is useful, but over-reliance damages the mind. Sixth Brother is gone. If you collapse, it serves no one."
Consort De offered a practiced smile. "I know. I will recover." 'I must recover quickly. In this palace, weakness is an invitation for assassination.'
"I am glad," Yinzhen said, reaching out to hold her hand. "Sixth Brother is gone, but you still have me."
The moment his fingers brushed hers, Consort De flinched, violently pulling her hand back as if burned. Yinzhen's hands hovered in the air.
Realizing her error, Consort De scrambled for an excuse. "My hands... I just applied medicinal ointment. I did not want to stain your clothes."
Yinzhen's gaze dropped to her palms, noting the crescent-shaped scabs where she had dug her nails into her own flesh. "You are injured. Why is it not bandaged?"
"It is a minor scratch. It requires no attention," she deflected firmly.
Sensing the tactical retreat, Yinzhen did not press the issue. Yuchan swiftly intervened, suggesting they share a meal. Consort De ordered Mingzhu Tofu, explicitly noting it was Yinzhen's favorite, attempting to bridge the sudden chasm between them.
The meal proceeded with polite, hollow harmony. Afterward, when Yinzhen offered to help her to bed, Consort De's arm stiffened slightly under his touch before she forced herself to relax.
Once Yinzhen left, Consort De opened her eyes, staring at the canopy above. Answer Song's psychological warfare had succeeded. A seed of suspicion had been planted, and no amount of logic could uproot the visceral revulsion she felt, knowing Tongjia had manipulated the events. Yinzhen was sharp; he had undoubtedly noticed her physical rejection.
To mitigate the damage, she summoned Yuchan. "The Uya clan sent a puppy into the palace to replace Xuetuan. Go to the beast-taming quarters. If it is trained, deliver it to the Fourth Prince immediately."
It was a calculated olive branch. Yinzhen was still her blood; he was an asset she needed to secure.
***
The West Five Palaces: Recalibration
"You visited Yonghe Palace?" Crown Prince Yinreng asked as Yinzhen returned.
"Yes. We shared a meal."
Yinreng exhaled, relieved that Consort De had not completely alienated her surviving son. "The case regarding the Sixth Prince is closed. Answer Song's dying words were designed to turn you against your mother. You must analyze the situation logically and not fall for the deception."
"I understand, Second Brother," Yinzhen replied smoothly.
Internally, Yinzhen was perfectly lucid. He had processed his mother's physical rejection and unnatural stiffness. He did not feel the crushing despair a seven-year-old ought to feel. Instead, he felt a cold, rational acceptance. He had long categorized the hierarchy of his mother's affections: Yinzuo was the priority, and he was the spare. When a crisis hit, her true priorities surfaced.
'If she cannot provide uncompromised support, I must solidify the alliances that do.' He looked at Yinreng. His Second Brother had consistently shielded him and provided tangible resources. This was a reliable foundation.
Yinzhen smiled, a genuine expression devoid of lingering grief. "I am perfectly fine, Second Brother. There is no need to worry."
Yuchan arrived, presenting the white puppy. Third Prince Yinzhi gasped. "Xuetuan?"
"It is not Xuetuan," Yinzhen stated firmly. He accepted the dog with a polite, distant smile, thanking Yuchan before dismissing her. He did not project his lost pet onto the new animal. "Xuetuan is dead. This is a different asset. I will name him Baifu." 'Hundred Fortunes. May he survive longer than the last.' The conversation shifted to lighter matters. Yinzhi, eyeing Yinreng, asked about the two Ferghana horses—often called 'sweat-blood horses'—gifted by the Khorchin Mongols. Yinreng revealed he was breeding them and promised Yinzhi a foal next year.
To satisfy their immediate curiosity, Yinreng took his brothers, including the disabled Seventh Prince, Yinyou, to the imperial horse track.
Yinzhi eagerly took the stallion for several laps. When he dismounted, his hands were stained red. "It really bleeds!"
"It is a biological trait, not an injury," Yinreng explained dryly. "The breed secretes a reddish fluid through its sweat glands when exerted, hence the name."
While Yinzhi and Yinzhen took turns, Yinreng focused on Yinyou. Yinyou was born with a deformed right leg, making physical activities a source of deep insecurity. Yinreng physically lifted him onto a mild pony, guiding him step-by-step.
"I... I am doing it," Yinyou whispered, gripping the reins as the pony walked. His face flushed with victory.
"You are," Yinreng affirmed. "The mechanics are the same for everyone. You just needed to understand the balance."
The rare moment of brotherhood was shattered by the arrival of a frantic eunuch.
"Fourth Prince! Return to Chengqian Palace immediately. Imperial Noble Consort Tongjia has fallen gravely ill."
The princes abandoned their leisure. As Yinzhen mounted his horse to rush back, Yinzhi muttered, "He just finished comforting his biological mother, and now his adoptive mother is dying. The political strain on him is immense."
***
Chengqian Palace: The Endgame
Imperial Noble Consort Tongjia lay in bed, her complexion ashen. She waved off the medicine offered by her maid, Chunzhi.
"Leave it. I will drink it later. Has the Emperor left?"
"Yes, Your Ladyship. He said he will return tonight," Chunzhi replied, bowing out of the room with heavy apprehension.
Chunzhi knew this illness was not natural. The palace had recently purged the Tiandihui rebels, and Answer Song had been exposed as a spy. Days after Song's death, an unknown maid had bumped into Chunzhi and slipped her a blank pouch containing a hidden message meant for Tongjia. Ever since receiving that pouch, Tongjia had spiraled into this terminal state.
Alone in the room, Tongjia stared at the bowl of medicine. Her mind operated with lethal clarity.
'I am a compromised asset.'
The truth of the Sixth Prince's assassination was a twisted knot. Tongjia had wanted revenge against Consort De for the death of her own infant daughter. She had noticed Answer Song's festering hatred for De and systematically manipulated the lower-ranked concubine into acting as the blade.
Tongjia had provided the logistical intelligence: she drew the maps of the smallpox facility, outlined the guard rotations, and planted the idea of the scooter to lure the Sixth Prince into the open. She assumed she was the puppet master using a bitter, foolish pawn.
She was wrong. The pawn was a Tiandihui operative.
The note hidden in the pouch had laid out the trap perfectly. The rebels thanked Tongjia for her invaluable intelligence and her successful division of Yinzhen and Consort De. They promised to keep her secret—'as long as she remained a cooperative asset for their future operations.'
'Checkmate.'
Tongjia understood the stakes immediately. She had unknowingly committed high treason. The rebels possessed her handwritten maps and letters. If she refused their future demands, they would expose her. If the Emperor discovered she had colluded with the Tiandihui to assassinate an imperial prince, the punishment would not be confined to her. The Emperor would execute her entire clan—nine familial generations eradicated.
She could not fight the rebels, and she could not confess to the Emperor.
'There is only one tactical solution to protect the Tongjia clan: I must remove myself from the board.'
If she committed suicide overtly, it would trigger a massive investigation. The Emperor would tear the palace apart, eventually finding her rebel connections. However, if she died of a "natural" illness, the trail would go cold. The rebels, currently fleeing the Emperor's purge, would not waste their leverage by exposing a dead woman. Her silence would permanently seal the connection.
For the past week, Tongjia had purposefully left her windows wide open during the freezing nights, exposing her already weakened body to the elements. She had engineered her own fatal pneumonia.
Tongjia reached out, picked up the bowl of medicine, and poured it directly into a potted plant by her bed.
She fell back against the pillows, her breath rattling in her chest. She had outmaneuvered the blackmail. Now, she just needed to hold on long enough for the Emperor to return. She had to leverage her impending death to extract one final, ironclad guarantee for Yinzhen's future.