Chapter 4 Eternal Lian

Yongcong first suspected he had entered a parallel world—this wasn’t what the history books said at all!

His full-blooded elder brother Yonglian was supposed to have died young from a cold in the third year of Qianlong’s reign.  

Yet the visitor claimed to be Yonglian, and Yu Momo addressed him as “Prince”!  

Then, he was overcome with wild joy.  

Yonglian was Emperor Yongzheng’s designated heir, the indisputable Crown Prince. With him around, what chance did the other princes have?  

Since he was still alive, the name behind the “Upright and Brilliant” plaque in the Hall of Heavenly Purity must surely be Yonglian’s!  

Yongcong waved his tiny hands excitedly, his little mouth opening and closing.  

Wahhh! What a twist of fate, what a turn of fortune—he could now be a carefree, idle slacker!  

As for the mystery of how his brother was still alive, he tossed that thought far, far away.  

Yonglian wore a light blue casual robe, his hair still damp, his handsome face bearing a faint smile. Yet Yu Momo noticed the weariness between his brows—the Prince must have rushed back from Jiangnan, covered in dust.  

“Has everything in Jiangnan been settled?”  

“There’s still some tidying up, but it’s nothing urgent… I’ve already reported to His Majesty.”  

Yonglian asked with concern, “Is Her Majesty in good health? I had Li Qin bring many tonics and medicinal herbs…”  

“This one is perfectly well. But Lian’er, you must be exhausted from the journey. Return to Yuqing Palace and rest early.” The Empress spoke softly to Yonglian from behind the screen. “Yongcong is in the Warm Pavilion—go see your little brother.”  

Yonglian couldn’t suppress an eager smile. “Yes.”  

He strode toward the Warm Pavilion, his personal attendant Li Qin waiting outside. Yu Momo lowered her voice, “How many days did the Prince spend traveling?”  

Li Qin, a clever young eunuch who had grown up serving Yonglian and enjoyed his deep trust, held up five fingers. “His Highness barely slept the entire way back.”  

Knowing the journey from Jiangnan to the capital usually took over ten days, Yu Momo glared at him. “And you didn’t try to stop him?”  

Li Qin pleaded, “Mommo, you know how devoted His Highness is to Her Majesty and the little prince. This servant couldn’t dissuade him.”  

Yu Momo sighed—it was true. Yonglian was a child she’d watched grow up, and her heart ached for him.  

She instructed Li Qin, “Once back at Yuqing Palace, brew His Highness some calming tea and ensure he rests properly for a few days. Don’t let outsiders disturb him.”  

Li Qin nodded repeatedly. “His Majesty said the same. This servant understands.”  

When Yonglian entered the Warm Pavilion, Yongcong happened to be awake.  

Yonglian rolled up his horseshoe cuffs slightly to avoid scratching the baby’s delicate skin. Sitting beside the cradle, his phoenix eyes brimming with warmth, he watched Yongcong babble excitedly and reach out to grasp his finger.  

Yongcong, having been born not long ago, could hardly be called good-looking, yet Yonglian declared, “My brother is so fair and tender—look at those eyes, just like Her Majesty’s.”  

The senior palace maid Moshu nearby covered a chuckle. “Indeed.”  

The wet nurse added cheerfully, “The Seventh Prince is quite attached to His Highness.”  

Yongcong blinked—right before him was his own brother!  

Around sixteen or seventeen years old, dignified and impressive. As for clearer facial features, his vision was too blurry to make them out.  

Yonglian hadn’t died from a cold but had grown into a handsome youth. Overjoyed, Yongcong kept waving his tiny hands, babbling excitedly.  

Brother! Brother!

Yonglian was filled with joy, as if the exhaustion from days of travel had completely dissipated. Gazing at the baby in the cradle, a sense of blood connection washed over him. He teased Yongcong, saying, “I’m your real elder brother. You must call me Second Brother from now on.”

“Mm, ah-ah,” Yongcong continued to babble.

Yonglian’s grin widened even more. After watching his little brother for a while longer, he tucked in the swaddling clothes and said to Moshu and the others, “Take good care of the Seventh Prince. I’ll come to see him another day.”

Moshu and the others hurriedly acknowledged the order.

As he reached the palace gate, Yonglian turned to Yu Momo and spoke solemnly, “Yongcong is still young and a legitimate heir. Momo must remind Mother to care for him constantly, paying close attention to his food, clothing, and bedding. Don’t let anyone harm him.”

Yu Momo was startled at first but then bowed respectfully. “Rest assured, Prince.”

Yonglian gave a slight nod before leaving the Palace of Eternal Spring.

The sky was just beginning to lighten, the time when the Emperor held his morning court. Raindrops fell in a steady drizzle, pattering against the polished green bricks. The palace servants who usually swept the paths were nowhere to be seen, likely having taken shelter from the rain.

Li Qin followed closely, holding an umbrella, sensing that the Prince was in an exceptionally good mood.

No doubt it was because, with the birth of the little prince, His Highness finally had a full-blooded younger brother. The bond between brothers born of the same mother was entirely different compared to other princes!

Suddenly, Yonglian halted in his tracks, and Li Qin nearly bumped into him.

“Your Highness?”

With a grave expression, Yonglian asked, “Can a two-year-old child receive the cowpox vaccination?”

The thought had just struck him, and his heart sank—he had miscalculated.

Li Qin was taken aback. “I… I suppose not?”

Imperial princes and concubines typically received the cowpox vaccination at six or seven years old, and smallpox was no longer the dreaded taboo it once was.

This was all thanks to the Prince.

At nine years old, the Prince had fallen seriously ill and then seemed to awaken, becoming even more intelligent and studious. He had somehow procured many foreign books.

During that time, the Prince spent his days immersed in the estates, developing an unparalleled interest in cows.

The Empress Dowager, the Emperor, and the Empress indulged him, letting him do as he pleased. Meanwhile, countless ministers and concubines criticized him for fooling around. Some even submitted memorials denouncing him, accusing him of neglecting his duties and subtly hinting that the Second Prince was unfit to be the heir.

The official who submitted the memorial was scolded mercilessly by His Majesty, stripped of his position, and nearly thrown into prison. After that, those with restless minds settled down, but rumors spread through the capital that the Second Prince’s illness had damaged his mind.

Some time later, the Prince successfully developed the cowpox vaccination method, astounding the world and leaving many with reddened faces!

With a cure for smallpox now available, it was truly a blessing for future generations. His Majesty was overjoyed and immediately bestowed upon the Prince the title of Duan Beile. The common people were even more grateful.

Li Qin had also heard from a familiar eunuch that, given the Second Prince’s achievements, he could have been made a prince instead of just a Beile.

Li Qin didn’t think so.

After all, the Eldest Prince, Yonghuang, was already twenty and still held no title at all!

…

Snapping out of his reverie, Li Qin cautiously asked, “Prince?”

Yonglian resumed walking toward Yuqing Palace. “It’s nothing.”

Young children had weak immune systems and couldn’t be vaccinated before the age of two, meaning the risk of Yongcong’s early demise still existed.

How could this be allowed?

He had originally thought that after altering history, this younger brother wouldn’t be born at all and had grieved for some time.

As much as it pained him, the work had to be done. Drawing from his memories, he managed to develop the cowpox vaccination. If Yongcong were to be born, he wouldn’t have to suffer from smallpox and die young.  

Unexpectedly, in the tenth year of Qianlong’s reign, the Empress Dowager became pregnant again!  

……  

Thinking of the babbling infant in the cradle who had grown close to him, Yonglian quickened his steps and quietly gave Li Qin a few instructions.  

“Increase the guards… If anyone dares to make a move, I’ll have their nine generations executed…”  

At the morning court session, Qianlong eagerly announced the joyous news of the Seventh Prince’s birth. The entire court erupted in congratulations, and the men of the Fucha family were beaming with delight.  

This, however, left some people deeply unsettled.  

The status of Prince Duan, the hidden Crown Prince, was as solid as Mount Tai. Now, with the arrival of another Legitimate Imperial Son, the Empress’s faction gained even more leverage.  

His Majesty had bestowed a name and even composed a poem—anyone could see how favored the Seventh Prince was.  

Moreover, he was born on Buddha’s Birthday, with Sweet Dew descending from the heavens—such an auspicious omen could only be described as divine will.  

The capital had suffered a month-long drought, and just yesterday, the morning court had been discussing disaster relief. Yet, in the early hours, a torrential downpour had arrived and still hadn’t stopped!  

This… this simply left no room for the other princes!  

As much as they seethed and chafed, there was little they could do.  

The Emperor cherished his legitimate sons, and the Han officials were overjoyed. Most of the Manchu ministers supported the Empress—after all, Fucha was the rightful and noble mother of the realm.  

Their stiff-faced congratulations drew whispers from the crowd.  

Fu Heng, standing at the front left, cast them a cool glance, utterly unbothered by their displeasure.  

His sister had given birth to a prince, and his own wife was nearing her due date. He mused that if she bore a son, wouldn’t he make an ideal study companion for the Seventh Prince?  

Not just the unborn child—even his eldest son, Fuling’an, could be sent to the palace.  

His nephew Mingliang had already attached himself to Prince Duan—his own sons couldn’t afford to fall behind!  

……  

As soon as the morning court ended, Qianlong hurried to the Palace of Eternal Spring without even changing out of his court robes.  

Though early spring had yet to bring warmth, the morning carried a lingering chill. The rain outside had left his robes damp.  

The Palace of Eternal Spring always kept spare casual attire for Qianlong. He changed into a moon-white robe in the side chamber, its sleeves embroidered with orchids and its collar adorned with dragon patterns. Wu Shulai came to report, “The Seventh Prince has just been fed and is lively now, resting with Her Majesty the Empress.”  

Once the chill had left his body, Qianlong strode into the inner chamber. “How is your mistress? Has she recovered somewhat? Is her appetite good?”  

Yu Momo, Moyun, and Mozhi bowed and answered in detail, “Her Majesty napped twice today, her pain has lessened, she drank a bowl of chicken broth and some congee. She’s now holding the Seventh Prince.”  

Hearing Qianlong’s inquiries, the Empress spoke from behind the screen, “Has Your Majesty just returned from court? The storm outside is fierce—do take care not to catch cold. The imperial health is paramount… Yu Momo, serve some hot tea.”  

Qianlong accepted the tea, warmth flickering in his eyes. “I know.”  

The Empress glanced at Yongcong in her arms and smiled faintly. “Yu Momo, bring the Seventh Prince for His Majesty to see.”  

During the Kangxi era, it was still customary to embrace grandsons but not sons. However, rules were made by men—Yinreng had grown up on Kangxi’s lap. When Hongli was born, Yongzheng, then still Prince Yong, had held him more than once. The Yong Prince’s household had gone years without a newborn, so Hongli had been dearly cherished by the Fourth Prince.

As for Hongli, later known as Emperor Qianlong, rules simply didn’t apply to him. Even when he was still Prince Bao, he would hold Yonglian in one arm and Hejing in the other while handling state affairs—who dared to say a word against it?  

Now, Qianlong cradled Yongcong in his arms, utterly enchanted. The little one in his embrace had lost some of his newborn redness, and his grape-like black eyes stared unblinkingly at him, melting his heart.  

Especially those distinct double eyelids—unlike Qianlong’s and Yonglian’s phoenix eyes—they were the spitting image of Empress Fucha.  

He sighed to Wu Shulai, “Yongcong’s little face is truly carved from the same mold as the Empress’s.”  

…  

Behind him, Hejing’s clear laughter rang out. “Imperial Grandmother, just a few hours ago, Imperial Father said Yongcong looked like him!”