Chapter 28: A Good Sound is a Good Start

“You really are a clever little fox.”

Kangxi was speechless for a moment. He had truly never seen such a shameless imperial concubine. And could this even be considered worthy of praise? Never mind that it was something expected and reasonable—just look at the way she was wagging her tail with pride. If he praised her even a little, she’d probably fly up into the sky.

Kangxi rubbed his forehead, not wanting to speak.

Standing to the side, Liang Jiugong couldn’t hold back a laugh. The issue was that no matter how low her rank, Wan Changzai was still a master. Liang Jiugong quickly lowered his head to hide the curve of his lips, his body trembling slightly as he tried to suppress his laughter. Even his stomach ached faintly from holding it in.

Wan Anran was still basking in her own smugness.

She walked from left to right, carefully introducing each of the bestowed items: “The gifts bestowed by His Majesty, this humble concubine treasures them like priceless jewels. Haitao even wipes them down two or three times a day. Just look! They’re as bright and clean as when they were first delivered.”

In truth, the one who should be praised for this was Haitao.

Upon learning that the other ladies (particularly Xu Changzai) didn’t have any imperial gifts in their rooms, Haitao had felt a surge of satisfaction and threw herself into polishing these mostly decorative objects with boundless enthusiasm—once in the morning, once after her afternoon nap, and again before bed.

Each of the bestowed items gleamed brilliantly.

Kangxi glanced over and felt a trace of pride in his heart.

She might be a bit of a fool, but at least her intentions were sincere.

Of course, Kangxi, who had originally come to question her, wasn’t about to show any other reaction until Wan Changzai realized her own mistake. His expression didn’t change; he merely responded with a cool “Mm.”

His cold and calm expression made Wan Anran feel suspicious.

She wasn’t stupid—naturally, she realized that the Emperor probably hadn’t come all this way just to check on these trivial gifts. So what was his purpose? It’s not like he thought her room was particularly comfortable, right? That was impossible.

Wan Anran was quite confident in this.

Just look at her salty-fish lifestyle—Kang Daye was the ambitious and driven type, not at all her kind.

So then why had he come?

Putting herself in the Emperor’s shoes, Wan Anran carefully pondered his motives. Soon, she had a flash of realization.

Ah, so that’s it!

Wan Anran smacked her left palm with her right fist. “Ah! Look at this concubine’s memory!”

As soon as she spoke, she turned and walked into the inner chamber.

Everyone was stunned by Wan Changzai’s sudden action. Haitao and the other two were completely confused, while Liang Jiugong let out a breath of relief.

Looks like Wan Changzai at least had some awareness.

Maybe she hadn’t just made insoles—perhaps she’d come out with an embroidered pouch or a charm?

Kangxi, however, had an entirely different line of thought.

Watching her disappearing figure, he felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding. He even suspected that Wan Changzai was about to pull out some bizarre, unexpected idea.

Kangxi fell into deep thought.

He was curious to see what kind of surprise Wan Changzai could possibly come up with this time. He took a sip of tea, his sharp eyes fixed unblinking on the direction she had gone.

This time, Wan Anran moved quickly.

Before long, she emerged carrying a stack of papers. Chin up and chest out, she respectfully offered them forward with both hands: “Your Majesty, please take a look.”

Kangxi’s expression froze.

He gave Wan Changzai a strange look, and under her expectant gaze, he reluctantly took the papers.

Liang Jiugong’s eyes widened as he viciously pinched his own thigh—No, absolutely not, he must not laugh in front of the Emperor!

Haitao, Zisu, and Jubai were already completely despairing.

Their faces were flushed bright red, all of them bowing their heads, barely holding back sobs while trying desperately to signal their mistress with their eyes.

But then, one by one, their gazes turned hopeless.

Just look at their mistress—she was still proudly beaming!

Wan Anran was, of course, very proud.

She was secretly glad she hadn’t slacked off recently and had continued diligently copying texts. Otherwise, facing the teacher—no, Kang Daye’s surprise inspection—she would’ve been anxious and flustered.

Kangxi let out a long breath.

Wan Changzai really was different from the others. He flipped through the copies of the texts she had written. Surprisingly, her handwriting had improved significantly. While it was still far from having true elegance and character, it was neat and proper. For a beginner to achieve this level in just over a month showed great effort.

That, at least, was worthy of praise.

But was Kangxi the type to praise so easily? Especially when he still found Wan Changzai irksome no matter how he looked at her. Not only did he not praise her as she had expected, he even quoted the classics to criticize her for being overly proud and complacent. Only when Wan Changzai gradually wilted did he feel satisfied.

Of course, after the stick comes the carrot.

Kangxi changed his tone and still gave her some praise, encouraging her to keep up the hard work: “Your handwriting right now is at best comparable to the Crown Prince’s. You must continue to study diligently. Do you understand?”

Wan Anran responded listlessly, “Yes.”

Kangxi nodded in satisfaction. But looking at her pitiful expression, he felt a little guilty. After thinking for a moment, he gave Liang Jiugong a specific order: “Bring the ‘High Moon Over Auspicious Stone’ inkstone.”

Naturally, this meant he was rewarding Wan Changzai with it.

Liang Jiugong acknowledged the order but was a little surprised. The “High Moon Over Auspicious Stone” inkstone was one of the Emperor’s favorites. He had even mentioned to Consort An recently that he wanted to admire it together during an imperial outing.

So why was he suddenly giving it to Wan Changzai?

Liang Jiugong shook his head, quietly muttering to himself—His Majesty had come intending to lecture her, and now not only had he not received anything, he’d ended up giving away one of his prized possessions… Ahem, one dragon’s rear out the door.

What was that phrase again?

Right—putting the cart before the horse!

While Liang Jiugong busily mulled this over, on the surface he quickly ordered a young eunuch to head back to the Qianqing Palace storeroom to retrieve the item.

Wan Anran didn’t know anything about inkstones.

But just looking at Liang Gonggong’s strange expression, she could tell it must be something precious. She happily accepted the reward and even took the opportunity to mention Wan Fu, saying that Wan Fu’s handwriting had improved as well.

Mentioning Wan Fu, however, made Kangxi recall his original purpose.

His smile faded, and once more he picked up his tea cup and sipped, and sipped… Seeing that it was almost empty, Wan Anran quickly picked up the teapot to refill it and also told Haitao to bring another pot of water.

Kangxi: …………

His face darkened again. Wan Anran blinked and finally realized—wait a minute—wasn’t he here to check her work?

Then what was His Majesty here for?

It clearly wasn’t time for a meal, so what could it be? Wan Anran wore a curious expression, looking at Kangxi with a puzzled gaze.

As the atmosphere in the room froze again, Liang Jiugong had no choice but to speak up, “Young Mistress Wan, the New Year’s gift—”

Wan Anran paused for a moment.

Didn’t Xu Changzai already give him a pair of insoles? According to the Crown Prince, His Majesty didn’t seem too impressed. So why was he bringing it up now?

Just then, a flash of inspiration struck Wan Anran. She looked at the balls of wool scattered on the floor and suddenly thought of a possibility.

Could it be… the sheepskin slippers?

…No way, right? Would the Emperor really mind something from a child? Wan Anran was deeply uncertain, her face flushing red as she lowered her head slightly. “This maid’s handiwork is poor—I made a mistake in the pattern. Fortunately, the Crown Prince offered some guidance, or else I might have made a real mess of things. Today I had to undo all the stitching and start over.”

Kangxi raised his eyebrows.

Made for me, huh? Looks like you’re really making them for the Crown Prince! He lifted his teacup. The tea was a little cold, but perfect for calming his emotions. Once composed, Kangxi looked up at her and said, “And what exactly are you planning to make for me?”

Wan Anran was immediately flustered.

Who just bluntly asks what gift someone is making for them…? Then again, he’s the Emperor, Kang Daye—he can ask whatever he wants. Before she could respond, Kangxi gave her a half-smile. “Insoles?”

If the Crown Prince had already informed him that Kangxi didn’t like the insoles, and she still insisted on giving them, wouldn’t that make her the world’s most oblivious idiot? Of course Wan Anran couldn’t say that. But what should she say?

Cold sweat formed on her forehead. She kept her gaze on the ground.

The balls of wool caught her eye.

A flash of genius hit her—she responded with confidence, “I plan to make gloves.”

Kangxi blinked in surprise.

He looked at Wan Anran and narrowed his eyes slightly. “But I heard from the Crown Prince you were making insoles—and even embroidered a pair of male mandarin ducks, no less.”

That damn Crown Prince!

He must’ve gone and tattled!

Wan Anran was both mortified and embarrassed.

If word got out that she embroidered two male mandarin ducks, wouldn’t the entire palace burst out laughing? Just imagining the scene made her feel like mourning. Her whole mood plummeted.

Kangxi raised his eyebrows higher.

His sharp gaze scanned her up and down as his voice dropped slightly. “Is that so?”

Or are you trying to fool me?

Wan Anran’s heart skipped a beat, but her expression remained composed. She let a look of surprise, confusion, and blankness slowly rise to her face. “How could I be making insoles?”

Then she lowered her head slightly, fingers nervously twisting her handkerchief. “This maid’s needlework is average at best. I was worried making gloves straight away would lead to mistakes, so I thought I’d practice with something simpler first…”

Her voice grew softer and softer, perfectly embodying the image of a struggling but hardworking student. As she spoke, she mentally gave herself a thumbs-up. If she’d had this level of acting skill in her past life, she might’ve gotten into film school.

It actually sounded… halfway believable.

Considering she had embroidered two male ducks, it did seem like she could use more practice. Kangxi shifted from three parts suspicion to seven parts belief. With his doubts easing, his demeanor softened and he chuckled. “Oh? But the gloves I saw last time looked quite good, didn’t they?”

Gloves? Wan Anran’s pupils contracted.

The only gloves he could be referring to were the ones she had casually hung on the snowman. Thank goodness she had her head lowered, pretending to be shy—otherwise Kangxi would have seen the panic on her face.

Wan Anran felt a pang of guilt.

Feigning calm, she blushed lightly. “Those gloves on the snowman were just something I made for fun—how could I possibly gift those to Your Majesty?”

Kangxi laughed heartily.

He looked deeply at Wan Anran. “Then I’ll be waiting for your gloves.”

Wan Anran smiled brightly on the surface but was inwardly in full panic. Who knew what possessed her in that moment, but she reached out and grabbed Kangxi’s dragon-clawed hand, comparing it to her own palm.

Kangxi’s hand was well-boned and slender, his fingers long and elegant. His palm was much larger than hers, and when their hands pressed together, she could feel the warmth spreading from his skin.

Liang Jiugong’s jaw dropped so far it nearly hit the floor.

Even Kangxi was stunned by Wan Anran’s boldness. Only she would dare to do something like this.

He lowered his head slightly.

His gaze landed just in time on Wan Anran’s long, thick lashes. They trembled faintly, casting a delicate shadow on her lower lids. Her skin, unpainted with makeup, was almost translucent in its fairness. Her lips were full and perfectly shaped…

Kangxi’s gaze grew darker.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke in a deep, slightly husky voice: “Wan… Changzai?”

The eastern chamber fell into absolute silence.

Liang Jiugong and the surrounding palace staff all lowered their heads slightly. They could already imagine the scene that was about to unfold, and some even began quietly considering whether they should excuse themselves.

Kangxi’s voice was deep, rich, and magnetic.

Wan Anran snapped out of her thoughts like a startled bunny. She quickly released his hand and took two steps back—only to step directly on a wool ball.

The wool ball rolled underfoot, and Wan Anran suddenly lost her balance and pitched forward—

Right toward Kangxi.

Liang Jiugong couldn’t help but admire her skill. A warm beauty falling into the Emperor’s arms—wasn’t this a classic romantic scene?

He lowered his head respectfully, subtly signaling to the other palace attendants. Everyone held their breath, tiptoeing toward the exit of the east chamber.

And then—

CLANG!

A loud crashing sound rang out.

…That didn’t sound right.

Liang Jiugong, halfway through slipping away, lifted his head to look—and his expression instantly froze. All the ambiguous, romantic imagery in his mind shattered like porcelain hitting the floor.

So… how did that sound?

If it sounded good—well, that’s a good start. 🙂