Chapter 8 Pampering

Consort Xian ultimately did not plead for her nephew during the Full Moon Banquet.  

Assuming the Emperor’s anger had subsided by now, a few days later, she instructed the imperial chefs to prepare a bowl of Ginkgo Barley Soup and personally brought it to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.  

It was just past noon. After having lunch at the Palace of Eternal Spring, Qianlong had returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to review memorials, cradling a plump, fair-skinned infant in his arms. Yongcong was happily sucking on his fingers, blinking at the azure sky above.  

His Imperial Father held him steadily as a gentle breeze brushed past, carrying the warmth of spring—the most pleasant weather of the season. Yongcong yawned, his dimpled little hand pressed against his mouth, smacking his lips a few times before drifting off to sleep.  

Some time later, Yongcong woke up hungry.  

Drowsily opening his eyes, he let out a soft “ah-ah.” Wu Shulai, standing nearby, immediately announced, “Your Majesty, Lady Moshu, the Seventh Prince has awakened.”  

He lay in a cradle beside the imperial desk, within Qianlong’s line of sight as he reviewed memorials. The Empress, concerned for his well-being, had specially assigned Moshu to care for Yongcong, ensuring she carried spare diapers, napkins, and other necessities—including goat milk for when he grew hungry.  

After the Full Moon Banquet, the Seventh Prince had refused to nurse from any wet nurse, no matter how they coaxed him. Left with no choice, the Empress had the imperial kitchen prepare some deodorized goat milk, which Yongcong finally deigned to drink.  

When Qianlong heard of this, he lavished praise on Yongcong, commending him for his originality—”Truly my son!”—and so on, until Yongcong nearly squirmed in embarrassment, and the Empress’s smile stiffened momentarily.  

*Even this deserves praise?*  

And then, Yongcong was taken along by his Imperial Father.  

Qianlong picked up a porcelain bowl and fed him spoonful by spoonful, his movements practiced and effortless. Many palace attendants lowered their eyes in shock.  

Wu Shulai, however, remained utterly unfazed. What was the big deal? Back when His Majesty was still a prince, he had also fed Princess Hejing and Prince Duan!  

So, in his opinion, the First Prince stood no chance of winning favor. The level of affection simply wasn’t comparable—how could they compete?  

A trickle of goat milk escaped Yongcong’s lips as he gave a tiny burp. Qianlong patted his round little belly, handed the remaining half-bowl to Moshu, then gently bounced Yongcong on his knee.  

The motion was so soothing that Yongcong hummed contentedly with closed eyes, like a well-fed piglet ready to doze off again.  

Just as Qianlong held him and picked up the vermilion brush with his right hand, an attendant announced Consort Xian’s request for an audience.  

*It’s about time she came.* The softness in Qianlong’s expression faded into indifference as he ordered, “Let her in.”  

Consort Xian entered with a food box in hand, her demeanor meek and submissive. She had clearly dressed with care—her attire elegant yet exquisitely refined, a magnolia hairpin with delicate tassels swaying slightly with each step.  

“Your Majesty, this humble consort has prepared Ginkgo Barley Soup with her own hands…” She finished her greeting and lifted her gaze, only for her words to catch in her throat.  

The child in the Emperor’s arms—wasn’t that the Seventh Prince, Yongcong?!  

She quickly lowered her lashes, concealing the storm of shock within, her fingertips trembling faintly.  

*The Seventh Prince is so favored that the Emperor brings him along even while reviewing state affairs?*  

In Consort Xian’s mind, Qianlong was the very embodiment of majesty and aloofness. A scene like this—how could it be happening before her eyes?!  

Qianlong glanced at her, offering no comment on the soup. “Speak.”

Consort Xian barely managed to regain her composure, forcing herself to ignore the innocent gaze of the little child looking at her. Biting her lip, she knelt and kowtowed, saying, “This concubine… acknowledges her mistake. Lianghe also knows his wrongdoing. I beg Your Majesty to show mercy to the Ula Nara family. This concubine will surely be more cautious in words and deeds from now on…”

Yongcong nibbled on his hand thoughtfully. Historically, Empress Ula Nara was known for her strict adherence to rules, even to the point of being somewhat rigid. She was remarkably bold in offering admonitions and served as a model for the people. If not for the incident of cutting her hair during the southern tour later…

Did she also make mistakes when she was still Consort Xian?

He felt that at this moment, Consort Xian was yearning for the Emperor’s favor.

Qianlong glanced at her. “We are aware.”

Without giving a definitive answer, the Emperor left Consort Xian anxious, yet she dared not speak further.

Qianlong picked up the Vermilion Brush and flipped through the memorials. Among them was an urgent report from the Governor of Jiangsu, stating that the remnants of the White Lotus Sect in Jiangning had been completely eradicated, their strongholds destroyed, all thanks to the efforts of Prince Duan…

As he read, Qianlong’s mood improved significantly. Noticing Consort Xian still standing rigidly in his peripheral vision, his attitude softened somewhat. “As for that boy Lianghe, We have indeed punished him. Isn’t he studying at Xian’an Palace? Let him enter the palace to serve as Yonglian’s study companion.”

Sebuteng had recently been granted the title of Duke of the Second Rank and appointed as a Second Rank Imperial Guard. With one position missing among Yonglian’s study companions, Lianghe could fill the vacancy perfectly.

Consort Xian left the Hall of Mental Cultivation in a daze, too distracted to even wonder whether the Emperor had consumed the gingko soup.

Was the Emperor… binding the Ula Nara family to Prince Duan?

This should be tremendous good news. Her parents would surely be overjoyed upon hearing it.

Yet Consort Xian couldn’t bring herself to smile.

Why would the Emperor do this?

If Consort Xian had a son of her own, Qianlong would never have done this.

Casually glancing at the gingko soup that had gone cold, he said, “Wu Shulai, it’s yours now.”

“Yes.” Wu Shulai bowed deeply, clicking his tongue inwardly. My noble Consort, His Majesty is doing this for your own good!

When Prince Duan ascends the throne in the future, with the bond of Young Master Lianghe, the Ula Nara family could surely prosper for at least another decade or two.

Another quarter-hour passed—

“Your Majesty, Minister Zhang requests an audience.”

Minister of Rites Zhang Ruoai caught sight of the swaddled infant in Qianlong’s arms from afar. After only a brief moment of surprise, he composed himself. “Your Majesty, here is the list of candidates for the Palace Examination compiled by the Ministry of Rites. This humble official has finished organizing it…”

That must be the legendary Seventh Prince Yongcong.

Zhang Ruoai was the beloved son of Zhang Tingyu and a minister highly regarded by Qianlong. The Emperor smiled and nodded. “We appreciate your hard work, Our beloved minister.”

Wu Shulai brought over an embroidered stool and poured a cup of premium hot tea, signaling to Zhang Ruoai that the Emperor wished to converse. As one of the Emperor’s confidants, he occasionally engaged in casual chats with His Majesty. Though Zhang Ruoai never spoke of it, he took great pride in this privilege.

Qianlong handed Yongcong to Moshu. “It’s getting late. The Empress will blame Us if she doesn’t see Yongcong soon.”

What does Imperial Father wish to discuss with Minister Zhang?

On the way back to the Palace of Eternal Spring, Yongcong blew a frustrated bubble, his curiosity gnawing at him.

“…This is Our copy of Master Dong’s ‘White-Robed Great Compassion Five Mudra Dharani.'” Qianlong casually produced a scroll of scriptures, pushing the memorials aside. “Minister Zhang, We bestow this scripture upon you.”

Zhang Ruoai received the scripture, stunned by this unexpected blessing.

While overjoyed, he couldn’t help but feel puzzled as well.

A minister who cannot fathom the emperor’s intentions is not a good minister. Calculating the date, today held no special significance, so why had His Majesty bestowed this scripture upon him… What did it signify?

He slowly unrolled the scroll, and the distinctive calligraphy style of Dong Qichang greeted his eyes. Above it was an image of Guanyin Bodhisattva, her compassionate gaze embracing all living beings.

Guanyin… Buddhist scriptures…

And the recently concluded Full Moon Banquet…

Zhang Ruoai shuddered with sudden realization.

Carefully tucking the scripture into his robe, he returned home and excitedly said to his wife, “Quick, tell me about the Seventh Prince’s appearance during his Full Moon Banquet…”

Zhang Ruoai had been away in Shanxi on official business during the banquet and thus missed the occasion.

His wife looked at him in surprise, “What’s this about?”

Zhang Ruoai replied, “Something of great importance!”

The Emperor wants me to praise the Seventh Prince!