Chapter 49: Little Hair Peach

Chengqian Palace.

By the time Uya Changzai woke up, it was already the next day. She propped herself up and looked around, not seeing the child anywhere. Her heart instantly filled with panic.

“The baby! The baby! Where is my child? Where is my Eleventh Prince!?”

At the sound of her voice, a nanny lifted the curtain and entered.

Uya Changzai had never seen this nanny before. The woman wore a pleasant smile.
“Lady Uya, the child you gave birth to was the Twelfth Prince, not the Eleventh.”

Uya Changzai suddenly remembered that detail.

Wan Guiren had actually given birth to a prince before her… At this thought, it felt as if a pair of giant hands clenched tightly around her heart. Her complexion gradually turned green with envy.

The nanny frowned slightly.

However, her demeanor didn’t change at all. The curve of her smile remained identical. She spoke gently,
“The young prince’s health is poor. He has already been sent to the front hall for care. Lady Uya, your body is also very weak—”

Before the nanny could finish speaking, Uya Changzai froze. A buzzing rang in her mind, and she couldn’t help but scream,
“The front hall!?”

The nanny was startled by her reaction.
“This is the Imperial Consort’s grace. Lady Uya, you ought to be grateful for it.”

She emphasized the word “grace.”

To be raised by the Imperial Consort greatly elevated the child’s status. Others would have wept tears of gratitude, yet this nanny quickly realized that Lady Uya was something of a lunatic.

“Grateful?”

Uya Changzai let out a disbelieving, cold laugh. Her face twisted as she shrieked with bared teeth,
“The Imperial Consort stole my child, and you want me to be grateful!?”

The nanny took a step back in shock.

She couldn’t hide the astonishment in her expression and quickly wiped the smile from her face.
“What do you mean stole? The Imperial Consort taking the young prince to raise is a blessing—for the child and for you, Lady Uya. Don’t you see—ah!?”

Uya Changzai slapped the nanny across the face.

Screams and shouts echoed throughout the courtyard. The commotion in the rear hall quickly made its way to the front hall.

Kangxi happened to be there.

He stared down at the baby in the swaddling cloth, brows furrowed, expression grim.

It wasn’t that Consort Tong insisted on taking the child; it was that the baby was simply too frail. Perhaps he had been in the womb too long, or perhaps he had not been well-nourished beforehand—whatever the reason, the Twelfth Prince’s cries were no louder than a kitten’s. His skin was pale as snow. To put it bluntly, even if he survived, he would need delicate care all his life.

Consort Tong gently folded the swaddling cloth.

The child was so weak that she didn’t dare hold him for long. She quickly instructed the wet nurse to carry the baby back to the inner chamber. Softly, she said,
“The Imperial physicians believe it’s because he remained in Lady Uya’s womb for too long… This is all my fault.”

“This child is barely two-thirds the size of the Eleventh Prince. Maybe being in the womb too long is one thing, but I also think her foolish behavior during pregnancy is to blame.” Kangxi’s face darkened as he scolded, his words firing like bullets.

He had heard plenty about Uya Changzai’s antics during her pregnancy. Because she was with child, the palace had turned a blind eye. No one had expected that her recklessness would even affect the baby’s health.

Before his words finished echoing, the noise from the rear courtyard reached them.

They heard that Uya Changzai had begun causing a commotion the moment she regained consciousness—screaming that the Imperial Consort had stolen her child, and demanding the Emperor give her justice.

Glancing at the haggard and pale Consort Tong and thinking of the sickly baby in the swaddling cloth, Kangxi’s anger flared sky-high.

It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be punished—just that the timing hadn’t come.

Now, all his pent-up fury exploded.

There would be no “justice,” no reward, no elevation of rank. Not like in her dreams, where she was made a Noble Lady or even a Consort after giving birth.

At Kangxi’s command, Uya Changzai was demoted to Second Class Attendant, effective immediately. She was forbidden from leaving her quarters without an imperial decree.

He said coldly,
“She can come out when the young prince is healthy. If he doesn’t recover, she can spend the rest of her life praying in the Buddha Hall!”

Uya Changzai—no, Uya Daying—heard a loud buzz in her mind. She scrambled to the door on hands and knees, trying to rush to the front hall and plead with the Emperor. Several nannies held her down tightly, crying out,
“Lady Uya! Lady Uya! Please, be careful with your body!”

Uya Daying shrieked,
“I want to see His Majesty! I want to see my child—!”

But her agitation triggered sharp pains in her abdomen. Something flowed out from inside her. Cold sweat poured from her forehead, all color drained from her face, and her body went limp.

The stench made the nannies wrinkle their noses.

They concealed their disgust and hastily helped Uya Daying back onto the bed, quickly changing her postpartum cloths.

Uya Daying lay there panting.

Her once-beautiful features had become utterly distorted. Suddenly, she broke into tears—

Why was everything different from what she remembered?

In the end, could her little prince still ascend the throne?

Uya Daying trembled uncontrollably.

She had given birth to the Twelfth Prince? Wan Guiren had given birth to the Eleventh? Then… who exactly was the child she’d birthed? Would he even survive?

Her mind was a mess of confusion. She muttered to herself,
“My child, my child… the Eleventh Prince… the Fourth Prince… my child…”

The nannies wiped the sweat from their foreheads.

After they left the room, they exchanged glances.

One whispered,
“Has Lady Uya… gone mad?”

“…She probably hasn’t, right?”

“Sigh… We really are unlucky,” another nanny muttered with a shake of her head.

After a few more words, they quickly went to the front hall to report.

Consort Tong, who was fretting over the young prince, didn’t even want to bother with Uya Daying.

What kind of storm could a mere Second Class Attendant stir up in her little courtyard?

She ordered the palace staff to confine Uya Daying to her quarters.
“Didn’t the Emperor say? When the young prince recovers, then she can come out again.”

Honestly, Consort Tong truly hoped Uya Daying could come out again—because that would mean the Twelfth Prince had survived.

She turned her gaze to the soft little dumpling. He smacked his lips and let out a small whimper. Even asleep, he could make Consort Tong smile from ear to ear.

Meanwhile, in Xianfu Palace, the atmosphere was peaceful.

The Eastern Side Hall was filled with warm, misty air, making the whole room feel cozy and snug. Wan Anran lay reclining on the couch, her long hair loose, flipping through a book with one hand while gently rocking a wooden cradle with the other.

The wooden cradle had been custom-made by the Imperial Household Department two months in advance. It was carved from rosewood, and the curved base allowed it to rock back and forth. Inside, Little Peach slept soundly—no, more accurately, the infant was awake so rarely that most of his time was spent in slumber.

Jubai pushed the door open and entered.

She stood at the entrance, shaking off the snowflakes from her body before walking inside. With a smile on her face, she said, “Mistress, I’ve found something out.”

Wan Anran looked up at her.

Jubai patted her chest, her expression one of relief. “It’s a good thing we’re in Xianfu Palace. I heard that Uya Changzai’s little prince was taken straight to the Front Hall by Consort Tong to be raised.”

A Noble Lady didn’t have the qualification to raise a child herself.

By protocol, the little prince should have been sent to the Front Hall to be raised by Consort Xuan. However, just as Wan Anran had never stopped Noble Lady Nara from bonding with her son Wan Fu, she also had no intention of taking the little prince away. She merely instructed the palace attendants to take good care of the child.

Wan Anran nodded in agreement, equally relieved.

Just imagining being separated from her Little Peach filled her with dread. A cold shiver ran down her spine. With tender affection, she stroked the baby’s soft downy hair. But just then, her heart recalled the news she had heard on the second day after giving birth.

The Emperor had proposed to the Empress Dowager that the little prince be raised under her care.

If that were the case, then perhaps her Little Peach was none other than the Fifth Prince, Yinqi—raised at the Empress Dowager’s knee and known for his kind, gentle, and upright nature.

Ah, the Fifth Prince was a good one!

Thinking about how history had praised the Fifth Prince Yinqi, Wan Anran felt more than satisfied. With a broad smile, she poked the baby’s chubby cheek and murmured, “Mama’s little Twelfth…”

“Huh?” Zisu blinked in confusion.

Then, laughing awkwardly, she said, “Mistress, what are you saying? The little master is the Eleventh Prince!”

Wan Anran: …?

Wan Anran: ………?

A moment later, a loud cry echoed through the entire Eastern Side Hall: “Ehhh?! Ehhh?! EHHHH!?”

Zisu jumped in shock.

She quickly explained, “Mistress, although Uya Changzai did go into labor first, you gave birth faster. Word is, just as your good news reached the other palace, Uya Changzai gave birth as well. The imperial physicians said that if it had taken any longer, the child might not have made it. That’s why, during this morning’s audience, Consort Tong even told Consort Xuan that they should thank the Eleventh Prince for bringing such good fortune!”

That wasn’t the issue!

Wan Anran’s face twisted, her voice cut off as if someone had grabbed her throat. After a long while, her head slowly turned toward the peacefully sleeping Little Peach in the cradle—the Eleventh Prince, which meant the baby in front of her was Yinzhen.

The future Yongzheng Emperor.

Wan Anran’s jaw dropped with a thud, and she froze completely on the spot.

What about her dream of a salted-fish life?

Wouldn’t this turn into a palace intrigue dream at this rate?! Wan Anran practically felt her soul leave her body, staring into the void for a long time.

Only after quite a while did she slowly pull herself together. Wan Anran tried to console herself inwardly: after all, many things had already changed this past year. The Empress hadn’t died, and she herself had been promoted to Noble Consort, right? Maybe a lazy mother could raise a lazy Yinzhen—that wasn’t entirely impossible!

Yes! That’s right!

Wan Anran nodded emphatically, lovingly stroking her Little Peach. “Peach has to grow up well. Mama doesn’t ask you to make a name for yourself. I only hope you stay safe and happy. Do whatever you love, and go wherever you please!”

The palace maids looked at one another.

Their mistress… what kind of wind blew into her head this time?

Strangely, the little baby who had just been sleeping soundly now seemed to stir as if responding to her. His tiny mouth moved as he made little whimpering sounds, so adorable that even Haitao’s heart melted just watching him. She chuckled, “Mistress, look! The little prince understands you—he’s agreeing with you!”

Wan Anran’s eyes curved into a smile. “Really?”

She gently lifted the soft Little Peach into her arms, kissing him left and right. Perhaps it was the mother-child bond, but once in her embrace, Little Peach even opened his eyes for a moment before slowly closing them again.

“Mistress, did you see? The little prince’s eyes are so dark and shiny!”

“Mhm! Little Peach is just too cute!” Wan Anran buried her face in his tiny body, her heart melting into a puddle.

Who cares, anyway?

No matter what the future might bring, for now, her Little Peach was just her adorable baby in her arms! As for the future—let’s leave that to the future.

With that thought, Wan Anran perked up once more.

She suddenly remembered the unfinished ball of yarn from last year and quickly sent Jubai to the Imperial Household Department to ask about it. She wondered whether they’d figured it out after a year.

If they had…

Wan Anran began imagining all the uses for the yarn, already making gestures as if she were planning to knit hats, clothes, and shoes for her Little Peach.