Chapter 51: Suspicion

The Crown Prince Baocheng, Wan Fu, and the Eldest Princess trembled with suppressed laughter. After a long moment, the three of them could no longer hold it in and burst into loud laughter.

“Maotao—pfft… Eleventh Brother is actually called Maotao—pfft… Maotao! Hahahaha!”

If not for their royal dignity, the three of them might have rolled onto the floor laughing uncontrollably.

Inside the inner room, Wan Anran was not pleased.

If she weren’t still in postpartum confinement and reeking of sweat, she would have come out personally to explain herself.

What’s wrong with it?

“Maotao” was clearly an auspicious and simple name—easy to remember and full of charm!

Inside, Wan Anran stood with her hands on her hips, indignant. She earnestly explained her reasoning—of course, she couldn’t say that “Tao” came from Yintao’s name. So instead, she said with heartfelt sincerity:

“Peach blossoms symbolize the warmth and blossoming of spring. They represent the beautiful hopes for spring, and the renewal of all things. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Kangxi had no interest in arguing with Wan Anran.

He was almost certain that Noble Lady Wan had just happened to be craving peaches when she casually gave the Eleventh Prince that name! Looking down at the “innocent and naïve” Yinzhen, Kangxi was filled with regret.

“It’s all A’ma’s fault.”

As for the so-called innocent and naïve, Yinzhen was, in truth, scared out of his wits. His pupils dilated as he stared straight at the gauze curtain, trying to see through it and catch a glimpse of Wan Liuhashi’s expression inside.

“A renewal of all things?”

Wasn’t that phrase talking about him? Yinzhen’s mind was a mess—did Wan Liuhashi somehow know his origins? Was she a god, a Buddha, an immortal, or a demon?

A baby’s body couldn’t suppress such thoughts.

The moment the idea entered his mind, it manifested physically in the form of flailing limbs—his chubby legs kicked wildly, and his tiny arms waved with surprising strength. He even babbled incoherently, “Ah, ah, ah!”

“This little one is really healthy,” Kangxi remarked, clicking his tongue in admiration. He reached out and ruffled Yinzhen’s hair. “Who knows, maybe he’ll grow up to be a baturu!”

The Crown Prince Baocheng nodded enthusiastically. With bright eyes, he looked at Yinzhen and said, “You’ve got this, little brother! When you grow up, beat Baoqing!”

Kangxi: …………

He looked down at his own Crown Prince, rubbed his forehead helplessly. “If you want to beat Baoqing, you’ll have to do it yourself. What are you doing dumping that expectation on your little brother?”

Baocheng was indignant.

With hands on his hips and the haughty air of an old man, he declared, “A’ma, you just don’t understand.”

“Hah?”

“Imperial Mother said it—each person has their strengths. I’ve already completely crushed Baoqing in academics, so naturally someone else should go head-to-head with him in martial arts.” Baocheng spoke with confidence and eloquence.

Ever since the Eldest Princess began to help smooth relations between them, and since Wan Fu had always been fond of the Empress, over the past year the Crown Prince’s relationship with the Empress had improved steadily. Now, he could even casually call her “Imperial Mother.”

“What’s more—”

He shot Wan Fu a sidelong glance and shook his little head. “I’ve already become so perfect that if I continue getting better, I might become as lofty as a mountain—so high that poor little fools like Wan Fu won’t dare to approach me.”

Wan Fu’s eyes widened in shock.

As for Kangxi, he was utterly stunned—his precious Crown Prince was becoming more and more… shameless. Watching Baocheng go on and on with no end in sight, Kangxi finally gave him a light punch to the head.

“You—where did you learn to talk back like this?”

“I wasn’t being cheeky.” Baocheng turned his back on Kangxi and presented his little butt instead, while gazing starry-eyed at Yinzhen.

“My little brother will surely meet my expectations and become a baturu—then he’ll defeat Baoqing.”

Sorry about that, Your Highness.

Thinking about his own lifelong humiliation in archery and martial arts, Yinzhen felt a moment of guilt… then immediately shoved it to the back of his mind. Anyway, no one ever succeeded in beating Yinti in martial arts—not then, not ever.

Just then, Wan Fu piped up from the side, clearly unwilling to admit defeat: “I can do it! We don’t need the Eleventh Prince—I can do it myself!”

The Crown Prince nodded and waved his hand in a grand manner. “Since you’re so eager, then this mission is yours.”

Kangxi couldn’t bear to watch.

But Wan Fu was particularly satisfied with the arrangement. He patted his chest loudly and said with confidence, “Don’t worry, Crown Prince Brother. Leave it all to me!”

Wan Fu? Wan Fu!?

Yinzhen’s gaze locked onto Wan Fu. That name was familiar. He just hadn’t known that this brother—who had died young—had been so close with the Crown Prince, or that he had been so full of life and energy.

Then why did he die so suddenly?

Was there something more going on? Something that wasn’t known to the public?

Yinzhen stared intently. His piercing gaze made Wan Fu instinctively turn his head. Meeting Yinzhen’s round, sparkling eyes, he immediately laughed.

“He’s looking at me!”

“He’s looking at me!” the Crown Prince argued.

“No, he’s looking at me!” the Eldest Princess chimed in.

The three of them started bickering again around Yinzhen.

Yinzhen responded with a dead fish stare. Like a doll, he was passed back and forth and played with endlessly by the three of them—until finally, baby fatigue overwhelmed him.

Without realizing it, Yinzhen closed his eyes and fell asleep. He began to snore softly, even blowing a tiny bubble from his nose, curled up and sleeping sweetly.

The Eldest Princess hushed them, “Eleventh Brother’s asleep.”

The Crown Prince and Wan Fu both lowered their voices immediately. As they watched their little brother’s peaceful sleeping face, they suddenly felt sleepy too.

First the Crown Prince rubbed his eyes, then Wan Fu yawned. Even the Eldest Princess couldn’t help but blink heavily.

Seeing the children yawning one after another, Kangxi couldn’t help but laugh softly. He instructed the nursemaid to carry the Eleventh Prince back to his room, then led his three children outside. He dropped Wan Fu off at Consort Xuan’s quarters, then personally escorted the Crown Prince and the Eldest Princess back to Kunning Palace.

At last, Kangxi walked alone toward Chengqian Palace. Despite his worries that the Twelfth Prince might not survive infancy, he couldn’t help but hold onto a bit of hope—perhaps the child would live after all? When he stepped into Chengqian Palace, Consort Tong, who had already received word of his arrival, hurried out to greet him, her eyes red with tears. “Your Majesty…”

Kangxi gently supported her arm.

But compared to the laughter still echoing from Xianfu Palace, the somber and oppressive atmosphere of Chengqian Palace stood in stark contrast. Kangxi frowned slightly, though he masked it quickly and forced himself to cheer up as he walked further in. “How has the Twelfth been lately?”

Consort Tong didn’t notice Kangxi’s subtle displeasure. Hearing him ask about the Twelfth Prince, she lit up with joy and, while instructing the nursemaid to bring the little prince over, began to chatter, “The little one’s been eating a lot and growing fast! Even the imperial physicians are surprised!”

“Really?”

“Why don’t you take a look?” Consort Tong was practically glowing with pride.

After nearly a month, the child’s cheeks had filled out slightly, looking far healthier than the frail state he was in at birth. Although he still didn’t quite compare to Maotao… cough, the Eleventh Prince, he now at least looked like he might survive.

Kangxi’s heart eased, and a smile appeared on his face. “Speaking of which, what name did cousin give the Twelfth Prince?”

Surely his cousin—so elegant, refined, virtuous, and talented in all the arts—must have chosen a name both beautiful and meaningful for the Twelfth Prince. Thinking back to the Eleventh Prince’s nickname, Kangxi’s expectations rose just a little higher.

After all, it couldn’t possibly be worse than “Maotao,” right?

While Kangxi was full of anticipation, he didn’t notice the strange looks on the faces of the surrounding palace servants. The next moment, he heard Consort Tong say: “Amoo.”

Kangxi: …?

He tilted his head, looking at his cousin with a bit of confusion.

Maybe I misheard?

Kangxi laughed. “Consort, really! I thought you said you named the Twelfth ‘Amoo.’”

Consort Tong looked at him in surprise.

Without changing her expression, she calmly clarified, “Your Majesty didn’t mishear. I did name the Twelfth Prince ‘Amoo.’”

Kangxi: …???

First “Maotao,” now “Amoo”—what on earth was going on with these names in the palace?

Of course, after Consort Tong explained the theory of “a humble name makes for an easy upbringing,” Kangxi reluctantly accepted it. Still, he gave firm instructions: “It’s fine to use it in the palace, but don’t let it spread outside.”

Otherwise, even if the little prince survived into adulthood, his childhood nickname might shame him to death.

Consort Tong rolled her eyes at him.

Kangxi, now in a rather good mood, gently played with the sleeping Amoo. Truth be told, at this moment, he was starting to think “Maotao” wasn’t such a bad name after all. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he tried to change the subject. “Speaking of which, how is Daying of the Uya clan doing lately? Is she still making a fuss like before?”

“She’s improved a lot compared to before,” Consort Tong said with a smile. Then she pursed her lips, hesitating for a moment. In the end, she still didn’t tell Kangxi about Second Class Attendant Uya possibly going insane. After all, the Twelfth Prince had come from her womb. If word got out that his birth mother had gone mad, what future would the Twelfth Prince have?

And besides, maybe Daying could still recover?

After weighing it over, Consort Tong ultimately decided to bury this matter deep in her heart and said nothing to Kangxi.

Kangxi nodded, satisfied.

He grew more cautious. “She needs to be kept under strict watch. If she performs well when the Twelfth is older, I might raise her rank. It’s unacceptable for the mother of a prince to hold nothing but a Second Class Attendant’s title. Thankfully there’s still time. I don’t believe Daying can’t straighten herself out.”

Consort Tong smiled and nodded. “I understand.”

Meanwhile, Second Class Attendant Uya, the very woman being discussed, sat stiffly in the side room of the rear courtyard. The room was pitch black, the heavy curtains on either side blocking all light.

It was deathly quiet inside.

The palace maid who opened the door was so terrified by the eerie atmosphere that her hair stood on end. Worse still, the room reeked of an indescribable odor. Her stomach lurched violently. Holding her breath, she quickly tidied the place and fled as fast as she could.

Only once she was outside did she finally exhale. Even in that short time, her entire back had been soaked with sweat. A few other maids came forward and looked at her sympathetically. “Uya Daying is really…”

“She’s terrifying to be around.”

“And it stinks to high heaven in there!”

“Sigh… it’s like she’s done for.”

“She’s been like this for days now. I really think Uya Changzai is ill-fated,” a newly appointed young maid sighed. “After all, she gave birth to a prince…” To fall this far—anyone would find it heartbreaking.

The other maids exchanged looks.

Soon, someone snorted. “Ill-fated? More like deserved.”

“Exactly! This is probably karma!” another maid muttered. Seeing the young maid’s puzzled expression, they rushed to explain the whole story.

From a maid to a Noble Lady—that had been a miracle others envied. But falling from Noble Lady back down to Second Class Attendant? That was a miracle in reverse. After listing her former arrogance, they brought up her most recent tantrums.

She had given birth to a prince but was demoted in rank.

Uya Daying naturally refused to accept it, making a huge scene and blaming Consort Tong for stealing her child. She made a ruckus every day, leaving no peace for anyone.

By the time people realized something was wrong, it was already too late. Uya Daying’s postpartum bleeding hadn’t stopped, her wounds kept getting infected, and even the imperial physicians shook their heads, saying she likely wouldn’t be able to bear another child.

She’d played a winning hand into the ground.

The maids shook their heads and sighed, while inside the room, Uya Daying could also hear their voices. Her dull eyes flickered, and she curled into a ball, murmuring, “Why did it turn out like this…”

But just moving slightly caused a fresh wave of pain in her lower abdomen. Gritting her teeth, she slowly changed her sanitary pad, her face pale and full of fear. She had lost favor, lost her rank, and now even her health—how had things come to this?

Wait…

A thought stirred in Uya Daying’s mind: Wan Liuha had given birth earlier than her…

Could it be that Wan Liuha was someone reborn or transmigrated? Could she have stolen her fate, causing her to fall into such misery?

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. Her certainty turned into obsession. Uya Daying slammed both hands on the bed, biting down on the blanket as she growled through her teeth:

“Wan Liuha!”