Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel)

Dinner was served at the small round stone table under the grape arbor.

E Linzhu and Akedun’s dining chairs were already in place, and Qingxing directed the eunuchs serving the meal to portion out the “children’s meal.”

Harinauhai watched curiously as the two children settled into their custom chairs, their bowls with little ears, and their small, specially designed wooden spoons and chopsticks. The two climbed up skillfully onto their chairs, lifted their chins slightly, and waited for the wet nurses to tie bibs around their necks.

“Little Prince, please have a seat as well,” Qingxing said, as she had someone bring out another dining chair from the storeroom. Originally prepared for Cheng Wanyun’s unborn child, it now served Harinauhai perfectly. Qingxing pushed the chair beside him, tied a bib around his neck with a smile, and gestured for him to eat.

Harinauhai sat there feeling awkward and a bit embarrassed. When had he ever eaten in such an elaborate setup? Fortunately, his complexion was dark enough that no one noticed his flushed face.

Qingxing initially considered giving him a set of beginner’s chopsticks, but Harinauhai had already picked up the adult-sized chopsticks and was using them with ease.

Seeing this, E Linzhu imitated Cheng Wanyun’s tone when praising them and gave Harinauhai a thumbs-up. “Nazha, you’re amazing!”

Harinauhai, growing annoyed, corrected her. “My name is not Nazha! My name is Harinauhai! Ha! Rin! Nau! Hai!”

E Linzhu tried to repeat it seriously, “Na! Zha! Nau! Hai!”

Qingxing and the wet nurses standing nearby couldn’t help but laugh.

At that moment, the eunuchs brought in the final dish, sparing Harinauhai from further frustration as E Linzhu’s attention immediately shifted to the fragrant food. “We’re having taro rice with ribs today! Yay!”

Akedun, who had been unusually quiet since Harinauhai’s arrival, finally smiled as he joined in, “It’s Sister’s favorite! That’s great!”

Harinauhai stretched his neck to take a look. In a sturdy clay pot was a heap of golden-yellow rice, each grain distinct and glistening. Between the rice were tiny pieces of taro—not the soft, mushy kind, but fried and crumbled for a dry, crispy texture. The rice was also mixed with dried clams, shredded squid, dried shrimp, mushrooms, and ribs.

Peanuts and onions were sprinkled on top, and the aroma wafting through the air was absolutely intoxicating. Harinauhai was already swallowing his saliva in secret. He thought to himself, ‘I could eat three bowls of just this rice!’

Qingxing served taro rice into each child’s bowl, while the eunuchs placed a generous serving of ‘jiucui’ (stir-fried “nine crunchies”) onto each plate.

E Linzhu’s eyes lit up with delight. “Jiucui! I want more! Give me extra!”

The eunuch immediately added another spoonful to her plate.

Harinauhai also sneaked glances at this dish for a long while. While E Linzhu called it ‘jiucui’, as an expert in beef and mutton, Harinauhai instantly recognized it as a dish made with beef offal!

Their usual method of cooking beef offal was either boiling it into a soup, blanching it, or hot-potting it. Stir-frying it to this level of crispiness was a true test of skill and heat control. On the grasslands, they burned cow dung for fuel, and since winters were long and they had to conserve it, they didn’t have the conditions for high, roaring flames. That’s why Harinauhai had never tasted beef offal prepared this way before.

Seeing that Harinauhai’s gaze lingered on the dish, Qingxing personally added some to his bowl and explained, “This is beef offal from a cow that was slaughtered this morning. The palace considers this ‘offal’ and generally wouldn’t serve it to the masters, but Lady Cheng loves it, so she specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare it several times. The eldest princess also loves it very much, so you should try it. The way it’s cooked is both crispy and tender, with a truly unique flavor.”

Harinauhai nodded. He didn’t quite understand why the offal wasn’t suitable for the masters. On the grasslands, there was no such thing as wasting food—this was meat too!

He used his chopsticks to gently move aside the green garlic leaves and quickly identified the different parts: beef tongue tip, tripe, beef heart, beef intestines, beef stomach, beef aorta, beef kidney, beef belly wall, and beef rib meat. These were all the best parts of the cow! Even simply blanching them in hot water and dipping them in sesame paste or soy sauce and vinegar would taste amazing!

Not to mention that this dish was prepared with such skillful knife work—cut into flowers, slices, strips, and chunks, then stir-fried with spices and ginger. He could tell that the cooking method must be crucial: if the heat was too high, the meat would become tough and charred; if the heat wasn’t enough, the crisp, refreshing taste wouldn’t be fully realized.

Taking a bite, the first mouthful was fresh, tender, and crispy. By the second bite, Harinauhai’s eyes were already squinting with pleasure, and he even chewed a little longer, unwilling to swallow.

There was no lingering gamey smell from the offal. It had all been steamed off when a spoonful of rice wine was poured over the dish during cooking, leaving behind only a subtle fragrance of rice wine with none of the alcohol taste.

The aftertaste was unforgettable.

Harinauhai finished a whole bowl of taro rice along with the dish, and without hesitation, raised his bowl. “I want more!”

“Little Prince, please wait a moment,” Qingxing smiled and filled his bowl again.

E Linzhu saw how quickly he was eating and hurriedly grabbed her own rice. “Nazha, wait for me! Don’t eat so fast!”

Akedun seemed somewhat unhappy. He felt like his sister was being taken away from him. He glanced at Harinauhai, who was eating heartily, and then at E Linzhu, who was also eating quickly to catch up, looking a bit sulky. He lowered his head and poked his chopsticks into his own bowl of taro rice, thinking to himself, ‘Why does this Mongolian prince have to come eat at Cheng E-niang’s (Cheng Mother) place? Will she have to prepare food for him every day in the future?’ Just thinking about it made Akedun feel upset.

Even the food she usually enjoyed lost its appeal.

Harinauhai didn’t care about whether anyone else was happy; at this moment, eating was the most important thing! Although the eunuchs helped by distributing the food into their bowls, if he finished his food quickly, he could eat more from the communal dishes outside, so he quickly found himself torn between wanting to eat quickly and wanting to savor each bite.

However, since he was a few years older than E Linzhu and Akedun, he ate faster. Soon, he had enjoyed the refreshing and sweet loofah and egg soup, dry-steamed chicken, and stir-fried bok choy.

In the end, he truly ate three bowls of rice, almost unable to get out of his chair from being too full.

By the time the children were eating, Cheng Wanyun had moved out of the maternity room and returned to her usual warm inner room. She was wearing a windproof headpiece and half-sitting, half-lying on the kang by the southern window, from where she could clearly see the situation in the courtyard.

Qingxing had already arranged for the three children to walk around the courtyard slowly. Harinauhai had walked around twice, and it was almost time to close the palace gates. He had to take his leave.

Cheng Wanyun saw that Qingxing, keeping in mind the Crown Prince’s instruction to “take good care of the young prince,” had packed a bag of “Wang Wang Big Gift Pack” and brought a pot of honey fruit tea for him to take with him, instructing the Mongolian guards to carry them. Only then did she reluctantly send Harinauhai off.

E Linzhu seemed reluctant to part with her new playmate. She bounced over, helping Qingxing escort him to the gate of the courtyard. She then asked, “Nazha, will you come play at my house again?”

Harinauhai, rarely not correcting her for calling him the wrong name, thought for a moment, then nodded seriously. “Okay, I’ll come back later.”

E Linzhu was delighted, smiling as she waved him off.

Akedun stood silently by, not saying anything. It wasn’t until Harinauhai walked far enough that his figure disappeared that he seemed to relax his guard, happily walking back with E Linzhu to play with blocks.

They played in Cheng Wanyun’s outer room, heads close together as they debated whether to build a big house or a small bridge. E Linzhu became domineering, pulling all the blocks to her side, insisting on having the final say on how to build it. Akedun couldn’t even touch a block.

Cheng Wanyun, hearing this, raised her voice from inside the room to stop her. “E Linzhu! Don’t do that! Geng Mama, go teach her some manners. She can’t be so bossy and unreasonable. The blocks belong to both of you, and if she wants to take them, she should only take her own!”

Upon hearing her mother’s voice, E Linzhu pouted but remembered that her mother wasn’t someone to be easily provoked. Even if she complained to her father, it wouldn’t help—she had long figured out that her father was even more afraid of her mother! And he always favored her mother! There was a time when her mother had scolded her, and she ran to her father crying to complain. But her father actually laughed and said, “I can’t help you, I’ll be sleeping in the study tonight!” Then he just carried her around the courtyard, distracting her by showing her the stars and flowers, none of which she wanted to see!

Hmph, her father only comforted her with words, but never actually helped! It was so frustrating!

So, reluctantly, E Linzhu returned half of the blocks to Akedun.

After disciplining her daughter, Cheng Wanyun took a sip of water, raised her eyes, and saw the Crown Prince sitting at a desk on the opposite side, still focused on reading medical books, occasionally jotting down notes.

Cheng Wanyun smiled and called out to him, “Your Highness, you must give me some more of the allowance.”

Yinreng looked up in confusion. “What’s wrong? Did you run out of silver?” When she was still a gege, she never seemed to run out of money, even when the allowance was small. But now that she had been promoted to a side concubine, why wasn’t the silver enough?

“Look, how many children are in the courtyard now? I suspect that Mongolian little prince will be coming over to play often in the future, so you should send me some more silver,” Cheng Wanyun teased. “Your Highness, are you treating my place like a nursery?”

“Today was an exception. Harinauhai is supposed to go to the study hall every day, so he won’t be coming often,” Yinreng said, his face darkening. Thinking of Harinauhai and E Linzhu playing and eating together, he ground his teeth in frustration, planning to assign more lessons to make sure Harinauhai stayed in the study hall every day.

After thinking for a while, he realized that Cheng Wanyun’s courtyard had an irresistible charm for the children. It was hard to say. He couldn’t just force people to leave. Aside from dealing with Galdan, he was also a child far from home… Of course, for E Linzhu’s sake, he still preferred that Harinauhai came less frequently. Yinreng had already made up his mind to send Harinauhai back to Mongolia as soon as the issue with Galdan was resolved. So, he said a little sheepishly, “Let He Baozhong give you a thousand taels in silver notes…”

Cheng Wanyun smiled and, holding up their youngest son, who had just woken up and was kicking his legs and blowing bubbles in his swaddling clothes, kissed his little cheek. “I’m just joking with you! With these children around, my life is much livelier!”

#

Meanwhile, E Chu had been out of the capital for several months. By May, the weather was getting hotter, but at least the end of May was neither too cold nor too hot. He passed through the fields in Zhili where the seedlings had grown and was heading toward Baoding when it started to rain again. Dark clouds rolled in, driven by the wind. By the time the rain poured down, the sky was nearly dark. He happened to pass by a village and quickly pulled on the reins, heading back to find a house to take shelter from the rain, planning to rest for the night.

The village didn’t even have a proper name; it was called Gaojia Mountain Village because the people living there all had the surname Gao.

The village was quiet in the heavy rain, with no one in sight. E Chu’s servants, braving the rain, chose a house with three large tiled rooms to knock on. They knocked for quite a while but no one answered. Eventually, an old man holding a fish basket and wearing a raincoat came by. He shouted, “Who’s knocking on the door of Gao Laodou’s house? His family’s all dead! There’s no one left!”

E Chu was startled and turned around. The old man had come closer, holding a lantern. Seeing that they were all well-dressed and on horseback, he hesitated and didn’t dare to approach them right away. After a moment of hesitation, he said, “Are you gentlemen acquainted with Gao Laodou? His family is gone. Even the youngest grandson died of smallpox. Even the ox that was plowing the fields got smallpox yesterday…”

“What did you say?” E Chu, excited, stepped forward and grabbed the old man’s arm. “Old man, did you say the ox had smallpox? Oxen can get smallpox too? Don’t lie to me!”

The old man was startled by his aggressive tone and took a step back, trying to pull his arm away. However, E Chu’s grip was as tight as a vice, so the old man had no choice but to tremble and reply, “I wouldn’t dare deceive you, my lord. Perhaps you come from a wealthy family and have never farmed, so you wouldn’t know. Cows can get diarrhea or catch the cold just like people. If people can get sick, so can cows! So it’s not surprising that this cow had smallpox. Not only did Gao Laodou’s cow catch it, but even last month, the cow at the house of Gao Lazi at the village’s east end caught smallpox too. But that cow has already died…”

E Chu had been searching for so long, he was almost losing his sanity, thinking that perhaps the Crown Prince had fallen into a fit of hysteria! Now, he had finally found a cow that had recently caught smallpox!

“Quick, where is Gao Laodou’s cow? Take me there now!” E Chu was drenched in the rain but didn’t care at all. “If what you say is true, I’ll reward you with twenty taels of silver!”

The old man shivered. Although the twenty taels of silver tempted him, he still shook his head. “Gao Laodou’s entire family is dead. That cow had deadly smallpox. I can’t go near it. I have an elderly mother and young children to care for…”

“How old are you, and you still have an elderly mother?” E Chu spat, wiping the rainwater from his face, drawing his sword and threatening, “Now, are you going to take me or not?”

“Yes! Yes!” The old man, terrified, immediately led E Chu and his servants along a small path to the back door of Gao Laodou’s house. Pointing inside, where a cow was left half-buried, only its head visible and its body on the brink of death, he said, “It’s right there. The village head said the cow had to be disposed of, fearing it might infect others, so they buried it. But with the heavy rain, everyone ran to seek shelter, and they hadn’t finished burying it yet…”

E Chu signaled to his servants, who swiftly scaled the wall, quickly finding a discarded shovel. Despite the pouring rain, they worked together to dig the cow out from the dirt.

“Old man, here’s your silver. Keep your mouth shut and don’t spread the word,” E Chu said, pulling out two large ingots of silver from his chest and pressing them into the old man’s hand. “Hurry up and go back to take care of your family.”

The old man, already scared out of his wits, grabbed the silver tightly, abandoning his fish basket and lantern on the ground. As soon as E Chu released his grip, the old man darted off at lightning speed.

E Chu was left standing there, speechless.

He now believed the old man really did have elderly relatives. Judging by the man’s nimble legs and swift escape, he was probably no more than forty years old. He had been calling him “old man” the entire time…

Anyway, with the cow now in hand, E Chu watched as his servants carefully extracted the smallpox-infected cow from the dirt. Sure enough, it had pockmarks all over its body and was even burning with fever, just like a human!

E Chu immediately instructed his servants to buy a large flatbed cart with a rain canopy and use it to transport the cow. They headed back to the nearby town, secured a boat at the dock, and began their journey along the river toward the capital.

When the news of the smallpox-infected cow reached the palace, it coincided with the fifth day of the fifth month—Dragon Boat Festival.

Two months before the festival, the Head of the Imperial Household, Shang Zhi, had already dispatched people to inspect the dragon boats in the Western Garden. If any were damaged, craftsmen were instructed to repair them in time for the festival. Cheng Wanyun heard the Crown Prince mention that five of the dragon boats in the Western Garden were so old and damaged that they urgently needed 120 cypress trees and 80 pine trees for repairs. Such massive trees were impossible to find in the capital, so people had to be sent to the Greater Khingan Mountains in the Northeast to gather the wood. This task was entrusted to the Empress Dowager’s family.

Logically, this task should have been handled by the Imperial Concubine Yi’s family since they had been in charge of procurement for the Imperial Household and royal estates for many years. However, for some unknown reason, the Emperor had decided not to use them for the job. It was rumored that during the repair of the Hall, the Eighth Prince had discovered that the gold sheets used to cover the pillars were of substandard quality. He reported this to Emperor Kangxi, who secretly investigated and traced it back to Imperial Concubine Yi’s brother, Tabuku. He was the Imperial Household Treasurer, known for his greed and corruption. He had mixed copper with the gold, resulting in the inferior quality.

Imperial Concubine Yi lost face because of this, and for several days, when she went to pay respects to Imperial Concubine Niu, she was publicly humiliated in front of others.

Seeing Imperial Concubine Yi in distress, Imperial Concubine De felt satisfied. Previously, when the Fourth Prince had selected a primary consort, Concubine Yi had mocked her openly and secretly. Now, it was her turn to mock Imperial Concubine Yi. Moreover, when the Fifth Prince had unearthed a corpse under the flagstone, the Emperor was both shocked and angry. He immediately sent the Ministry of Justice to investigate, but before any clear answers were found, the matter was dropped entirely.

Having sought the Crown Prince’s favor in vain, Imperial Concubine Yi was extremely frustrated.

In contrast, the Fourth Prince seemed quite fortunate. He was thorough and diligent in his tasks, identifying the source of the leaks in the Hall. He even worked with the craftsmen, lifting each tile and inspecting the wooden beams one by one, calculating how many needed replacement. He marked the decayed wood and received high praise from the Emperor for his efforts.

Upon hearing this, Concubine De gave it some thought and began to visit Imperial Concubine Rong frequently, joining her for tea and card games. The two, who had never been close, now appeared to be getting along harmoniously.

You see, Imperial Concubine Rong’s family was in charge of procuring the wood for the dragon boats, and they could easily include the timber needed for the Fourth Prince’s roof beams as well. Concubine De did this, of course, to help her son.

Of course… the Fourteenth Prince had recently been severely punished by the Emperor for bullying the Mongolian heir. Now, Kangxi was not as affectionate towards him, and their relationship was no longer as close as before. By helping the Fourth Prince, Concubine De hoped that when he accompanied the Emperor, he might speak a good word for her younger son.

Since the Hall’s repairs would take a while, Kangxi issued another decree for the Crown Prince to perform the grand ritual at the De Palace and Yongshi Palace, offering sacrifices to the spirits of the late Emperor and Empress Dowager for the Dragon Boat Festival. The Imperial Household had already prepared a variety of ceremonial items in advance, such as gold and silver pastry, paper money, sacrificial tablets, and other ritual items, as well as barley wine and roasted corn for the offerings.

“This is something the Emperor has always done personally, and it’s unheard of for the Crown Prince to perform it on his behalf,” Tang Gege remarked as she came over to make zongzi with Cheng Wanyun, winking. “This is quite an honor!”

Cheng Wanyun knew that since the New Year, the Crown Prince had regained Kangxi’s favor. Recently, even the Imperial Household had entrusted the Crown Prince with distributing gifts for the upcoming Dragon Boat Festival celebrations in all the palaces, including items like embroidered pouches, fan covers, and sachets to ward off evil and cool off during the summer. These gifts were meant for the Emperor’s favored ministers and princes, a clear sign of the Emperor’s favor.

Since the incident with Gao Daiying in her palace, Imperial Concubine Hui had become somewhat quiet and low-key. She no longer spoke much during greetings and even the eldest prince, Yinzhi, followed suit. He had reached the point where he only entered the palace when summoned. It was said that he had hired a few Taoist priests at home and spent his days practicing Bagua and Tai Chi, claiming it was for cultivating his mind and body.

However, Imperial Concubine Hui’s eighth son had gradually stood out among the princes. He was naturally gentle and meticulous, speaking appropriately, and had impressed Kangxi on several occasions. Especially during the Hall Repair affair, Kangxi admired his official handling of matters and his straightforward reporting.

Kangxi did not attribute the Eighth Prince’s excellence to Concubine Wei, but instead believed it was due to Imperial Concubine Hui’s nurturing. As a result, whenever the Eighth Prince gained favor, she shared in it. Imperial Concubine Hui’s position in the palace remained stable, and she still ranked as the head of the four consorts.

This was also why Concubine Niu Hulu wanted to have another son through Wang Daiying’s womb, hoping that in the future, the Fifteenth Prince could support the Tenth Prince.

When Cheng Wanyun gave birth to the Crown Prince’s second son, it had only been a little over a month, but Wang Daiying had been bedridden for four months to protect the pregnancy. Eventually, she gave birth to the slightly weak Fifteenth Prince prematurely. He weighed less than five pounds at birth, his cries sounding like a kitten’s meow. His nails hadn’t fully developed, and Kangxi, upon seeing him, was not particularly fond of the child. His rewards were somewhat hastily given.

Later, when it was time for the Fifteenth Prince’s full moon celebration, Kangxi did not personally attend, instead sending Liang Jiugong with gifts. Wang Daiying, still young and new to the palace, did not understand Kangxi’s temperament, and as a result, she secretly cried under the covers several times.

When the Seventh Prince was born, due to his leg disability, his birth mother, Concubine Dai, was criticized by Kangxi as being “unfortunate” and “not auspicious,” which almost led to her punishment.

Fortunately, Concubine Niu Hulu continued to care for her as always, sending many people to look after the Fifteenth Prince, providing whatever he needed. Together, they managed to raise him, and now he was a healthy and hearty child, able to eat and sleep well.

After hearing this, Cheng Wanyun thought that Kangxi was rather cold-hearted and practical. This was the trouble with having too many children—when there were so many, they became less noteworthy.

Thankfully, Kangxi still valued the Crown Prince’s children. Before the Dragon Boat Festival, the Crown Prince finally managed to get Kangxi’s approval for two names for Akedun and her second son.

Akedun was named Hongxuan, which symbolized warmth and the bright sun in the cold winter. It was a good name!

Cheng Wanyun gently rubbed Akedun’s small face and smiled, “Your Imperial Majesty has bestowed the name Hongxuan upon you. It carries such a wonderful meaning. You will be our little sunshine from now on! We can’t call you Akedun anymore.”

Hongxuan, shy, blushed, and lay his small face against her lap, too embarrassed to lift his head.

Little sunshine… He really liked that name.

Master Kang did have some skill in naming. Cheng Wanyun was quite moved and continued eagerly flipping through the pages.

Her second son’s name was—

Cheng Wanyun stared at the golden-embellished red paper with the name written on it for a long time without moving. She felt somewhat dazed and a little stunned. It was a name that even she remembered.

On the red paper, there were golden hooks and silver strokes—it was Kangxi’s handwriting.

Hongxi.