Chapter 5 Hatred

Yinzhen found himself growing increasingly fond of Hong Yan, as if bewitched. He briefly recounted the corruption case from Shaanxi and Sichuan that morning, then patted the boy’s little head and asked, “What do you think, Yuanbao?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the Fourth Prince snapped back to his senses. This question was entirely inappropriate.

He smiled bitterly. His nephew was only five years old—he must be out of his mind.

To his surprise, the moment Hong Yan heard the word “corruption,” it was as if he had become a different person. His usual calm demeanor vanished, his body tensed, and his eyes sharpened like a drawn bowstring ready to snap.

He looked up at Yinzhen and said coldly, word by word, “Corrupt officials who exploit the people’s blood and sweat deserve to die. With them around, how can governance ever be clean? How can the world ever know peace?”

The words were so striking that even Su Peisheng couldn’t pretend to be a quail anymore.

He slowly widened his eyes, glancing down at the solemn imperial grandson, then up at his stunned master, and suddenly saw an uncanny resemblance between them.

Sanxi’s jaw dropped, while Linmen’s expression went blank.

Their young master was usually so mild-tempered—was this his true nature? At such a tender age, he already cared deeply for the nation and its people, though he never showed it!

The Fourth Prince had no idea what the servants were thinking. Shaking off his daze, he felt a mix of emotions. Wasn’t this the very ideal he had been striving for?

His mother didn’t understand him. His brothers didn’t understand him. Yet his nephew had somehow echoed his innermost thoughts and shared his frustrations.

The more Yinzhen looked at Hong Yan, the more he adored him. His earlier anger melted away, replaced by an urge to whisk the boy back to the prince’s residence and keep him close day and night.

But then he imagined the Crown Prince’s reaction and could only suppress the thought with regret. After a long pause, he sighed, “Yuanbao, you are your fourth uncle’s soulmate.”

He sternly warned those around them, “If today’s conversation leaks, I will not spare the culprit.” Then he eagerly scooped Hong Yan into his arms, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. “Come, let your fourth uncle share some heartfelt words with you…”

Half an hour later, Hong Yan walked down the palace road with a blank expression, his round face gradually twisting into a mask of agony.

This was a miscalculation. His shitty ability didn’t need physical objects to activate—  

The system’s hatred for corruption could resonate with others through shared sentiment.

Fine, silver could summon him, but why thoughts too? Just because Fourth Uncle was an ability holder?

They say good friends are easy to find, but soulmates rare. A soulmate—what a romantic notion. Yet he had no desire to be the Fourth Prince’s soulmate.

He was only five years old…  

This wasn’t fair.

Being forced into soulmatehood was bad enough, but then he’d been bombarded with Yinzhen’s ambitions, his hatred for corrupt officials, and his views on governance reform.

What could Hong Yan do? He could only nod along and share the hatred.

To his dismay, the Fourth Prince grew more and more animated, as if discovering a hidden gift for chatter. He even hooked his pinky with Hong Yan’s, making a promise: if he ever got the chance to lead an anti-corruption mission, he’d take Yuanbao along to broaden his horizons.

Hong Yan: “……” That really wasn’t necessary.

Yinzhen’s eyes shone with alarming intensity, and Hong Yan felt a foreboding sense of dread. He quickly reassured himself—it was still early, far from the 47th year of Kangxi’s reign. The imperial treasury was still solvent, and the version of Fourth Uncle who descended like the King of Hell to collect debts hadn’t emerged yet. There was no need to worry. Besides, with Hanmafa reborn, he would never repeat his later years’ spendthrift habits, leaving behind a mess for others to clean up.

Temporarily comforted, he soon found the East Palace looming ahead.

Hong Yan perked up again, pursing his lips into a smile as he thought to himself that since his mother was pregnant, he ought to go see his growing younger sibling—most likely the legitimate princess from history, the future pearl of their family.

With light steps, he entered the main courtyard, where a young palace maid immediately lifted the curtain to announce, “The young master has returned!”

Night had fallen, and the main courtyard was lit with lanterns, casting a hazy glow that seemed to carry an air of celebration. Quan Momo hurried out, her usually stern face creased with smiles. “Come in quickly, young master. His Highness and the Crown Princess have been talking about you for a while. Did you have a good dinner?”

“Yes, everything was fine,” Hong Yan replied obediently, pausing as he stepped into the inner chamber. “Is Father here too?”

“I am,” the Crown Prince said, lifting the teacup with a smile as he glanced at his son. “Finally decided to come back? Did you run into your Fourth Uncle earlier?”

The Crown Princess sat beside him, also smiling as she looked over. The couple moved in perfect harmony, a picture of perfect match, with an unspoken warmth flowing between them.

Looking at his parents in this life, Hong Yan felt a sudden softness in his heart. “Yes, I met Fourth Uncle and talked for quite a while.”

That softness soon gave way to admiration—so his father was truly a magnanimous man, one who bore no grudges and even smiled at him!

“Mother, such wonderful news, and you didn’t even tell me,” he complained as he sidled up. “You’re having another child, and I was the last to know…”

But before he could get too close, the Crown Prince swiftly intercepted him, pulling his son onto his lap and scolding him with a stern expression. “What’s with all this reckless bumping? Your mother is precious now—no touching.”

Not content with just lecturing, the Crown Prince pinched Hong Yan’s cheeks a few times, leaving dimples in the plump flesh that bounced back into place.

Manchus had a saying: “Hold grandsons, not sons.” The Crown Prince maintained this decorum in public, but in private, no one dared to criticize—just like now.

“This is all your father’s fault. What do you mean, no touching?” The Crown Princess shot the Crown Prince a reproachful look. “Be gentler. Yuanbao’s skin is delicate, not like yours.”

Then she asked her son softly, “Are you thirsty, Yuanbao? Someone, bring a plate of fruit…”

The Crown Prince was utterly compliant, his face practically spelling out “I’ll listen to you.” Hong Yan, strangely enough, caught a whiff of something sickeningly sweet—dog food, perhaps?—making his teeth ache as he scrunched up his face like a bun.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prince suddenly remembered the matter of the banknotes and eyed Hong Yan’s backside with an itching hand. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to spank him, so while the Crown Princess was giving orders to the servants, he pulled his son closer and whispered, “Where did Yuanbao find Father’s banknotes?”

Trapped in his father’s grip, Hong Yan froze, realizing his miscalculation.

How could his father still be hung up on those stupid banknotes when his mother was pregnant?

“Lord Suo told me,” Hong Yan whispered under the Crown Prince’s skeptical gaze, his expression the very picture of sincerity.

The Crown Prince scrutinized him but found no flaw. Given that Hong Yan had a good track record—aside from his studies—he ultimately believed him.

He mentally tallied a big black mark against Suo’etu and snorted, adopting an air of resignation. “Fine, I won’t hold it against you,” he said, sounding almost magnanimous.

This reaction only made Hong Yan suspicious—something wasn’t right here.

Even the trash system hadn’t reacted. Had Mother given him an allowance?

Hong Yan had only tossed out the guess casually, but it turned out he’d hit the nail on the head.

The Crown Princess’s quarters were filled with laughter and lively chatter, making the side courtyard appear all the more desolate and quiet, with only a few scattered lanterns flickering. Currently, the East Palace had no secondary consorts, and the residences of the princesses and concubines were collectively referred to as the side courtyard. Though the area was not small, the buildings were interspersed in a disorderly fashion, surrounding the Main Courtyard located along the central axis, forming a constellation around the moon alongside the small garden.

The rear courtyard housed three princesses and several concubines. Li Jia, who had earlier been placed under house arrest, resided in the eastern wing, having once enjoyed a period of favor and prominence. Xiao Li Jia and Zhang Jia lived in the western wing, each raising the Crown Prince’s eldest and second daughters. Thanks to their children, their daily necessities were never lacking, and the Crown Prince would occasionally visit or bestow small gifts upon them.

Another evening, as dusk fell, Li Jia directed her servants to set up chairs facing the direction of the front courtyard and sat there lost in thought. Her expression was deeply gloomy, dressed in plain clothing, her delicate beauty now faded, unable to conceal the dark circles and weariness around her eyes.

Xiao Li Jia, returning from a stroll after dinner, sneered at the sight and mocked, “Still dreaming of soaring to the heights as a phoenix? Now you can’t even be a pheasant, yet you insist on being an eyesore every day.”

She continued, “The Crown Princess is the true phoenix. What are you in comparison?”

Hearing this, Li Jia clenched her teeth, a sharp glint flashing deep in her eyes.

This wretch, relying on her sharp tongue, never missed an opportunity to taunt her and even blocked her from seeing the daughter she had carried for ten months! Poor Eldest Princess, now seven years old, had forgotten her true mother…

After so many years of waiting in vain for the Crown Prince, her hopes had gradually numbed. From initially retorting to eventually ignoring the jibes, Li Jia thought she had grown accustomed to it. But now, hearing the joyous news from the Main Courtyard, she could no longer suppress her resentment.

Why was Guarjia pregnant again after five years, while she was left to spend the rest of her life without favor or support?

Why was heaven so unfair? What was Hong Yan? The position of the Emperor’s eldest grandson should have been her son’s!

Remembering the day she gave birth five years ago, Li Jia dug her nails into her palms, the pain sharp and biting.

She couldn’t have given birth to a princess, much less a stillborn. The labor-inducing drug was harmless—it must have been the Crown Princess who bribed the midwife to secretly dispose of the Crown Prince’s firstborn son without anyone knowing!

With Guarjia in control of the palace, was there anything she couldn’t do?

Everything Hong Yan enjoyed now, along with the Emperor’s favor, should have belonged to her poor son!

Every time she thought of this, Li Jia’s heart bled with pain. She hated the Crown Prince for being deceived by treacherous people and hated herself for being powerless, unable to fight back or risk everything to take revenge on the Crown Princess.

Watching her enemy thrive while the Crown Prince’s favor grew more biased, her house arrest had finally ended. She had hoped to explain herself to him, but the man she once adored wouldn’t even listen, telling her to stay in the side courtyard and not disrupt the rules.

From then on, she became the laughingstock of the East Palace.

The echoes of mockery still rang in her ears. At this thought, Li Jia slowly raised her head, her alluring eyes dark and unfathomable:

“And what are you in comparison?”

Xiao Li Jia was taken aback by her gaze, then sneered, “Well, I wasn’t wrong. After all these years, you’re still seething with resentment. You’ve been putting on quite the act!”

Resolving to report this to the Crown Princess, Xiao Li Jia shot her a glare and hurried back to her room.

Li Jia watched the retreating figure in bright attire and murmured softly after a long pause, “We’ll see about that.”

With that, she turned to the elderly Momo who had an extremely low presence by her side. Closing her eyes briefly, she spoke with utter calmness: “I accept De Fei Niangniang’s conditions.”