Chapter 3 – The Zhangjia Lady

In the blink of an eye, three years passed from spring to autumn.

In the first year, Yu Ying stayed inside the western side hall that was her little “plot of land,” quietly recuperating from her “illness.” She never once set foot beyond the rear halls.

But this illness, after dragging on for over half a year, really ought to have been considered cured. Left with no excuse, Yu Ying reluctantly went to pay her respects to the principal consort and had her green tally card rehung.

In the first few days after the card went back up, Yu Ying lay anxiously awake. On the one hand, she was terrified she would be summoned to the Emperor’s bedchamber. After all, she’d never even had a boyfriend back in modern times—she’d been a proper good girl—and now she was about to skip countless steps and be forced to share a bed with Kangxi himself. How could she not panic? On the other hand, she couldn’t help but feel a trace of anticipation. She’d transmigrated, hadn’t she? Was it so outrageous to at least dare to dream of becoming a favored consort?

But Yu Ying had vastly overestimated her own importance.

More than half a month passed without any summons. The heart she’d been holding in her throat finally sank back down into her belly.

Yu Ying’s greatest strength had always been her ability to adapt.

In other words, she was a salted fish through and through.

Since she couldn’t be a favored consort, she simply chose another path: building good relationships with her superior and her neighbors.

In Changchun Palace, apart from Yu Ying and the main mistress Consort An, there were three others: Attendant Yin, Daying Miao, and the Zhangjia Concubine without a title.

Five women living in the same palace—seeing each other morning and night—it wouldn’t do to get along like enemies.

Consort An had entered the palace in the Tenth Year of Kangxi as part of the Eight Banners selection. In the Sixteenth Year, when the Emperor conferred titles on the six palaces, she was promoted to Consort, the highest among the seven consorts at the time, and was granted residence in Changchun Palace.

However, Emperor Kangxi himself did not seem particularly fond of Consort An. After the second round of promotions in the Twenty-Second Year, the Hui Consort, Yi Consort, and Rong Consort—who had previously ranked below Consort An—had all been elevated to the rank of Concubine, while Consort An appeared completely indifferent. She simply spent her days tending flowers and never tried to compete for favor.

Whenever someone in Changchun Palace gained the Emperor’s affection, she would never be jealous. Instead, she would help them prepare everything needed and personally see them off to Qianqing Palace. Those without favor were never mistreated by her, either. All in all, having such a leader made Yu Ying’s little life quite comfortable.

As for the other three: Attendant Yin and Daying Miao had each only been summoned to serve the Emperor once before being forgotten in this vast harem. Only the Zhangjia Concubine without title could still see the Emperor every month or two, making her the only woman in Changchun Palace who still had any measure of favor.

Rumor had it that Changchun Palace’s poor feng shui was the reason the Emperor avoided them. But inside the palace, everyone held their own private thoughts. Consort An never bothered to quash these rumors, simply letting them spread.

The Zhangjia Concubine herself was very easy to get along with. From what Yu Ying had observed, she was gentle and unambitious, never fighting or scheming. After she became pregnant, she grew even more mild, and her quarters became Yu Ying’s favorite place to visit.

As for the other two, since they had no favor, they wore long faces all day. Yu Ying always preferred to keep her distance from people like that. Of course, they had no interest in paying attention to a little Daying who had never once served the Emperor, so they and Yu Ying simply ignored each other and minded their own business.

This morning, just like any other, Yu Ying had her breakfast and then took Qingtao to go visit the Zhangjia Concubine.

It wasn’t that she wanted to go there every day, but she really didn’t dare to roam beyond Changchun Palace. She was low-ranked and without favor. If she stepped outside and happened to run into a high-ranking consort, she’d have to kneel in greeting. After being forced to do that a few times, any pleasant mood she’d had would be thoroughly ruined.

The Zhangjia Concubine’s pregnancy was already showing—she was eight months along. Her belly jutted out high, yet her limbs remained thin and frail. She was reclining on a couch, and every time Yu Ying saw her like this, her heart couldn’t help but clench in alarm.

When Zhangjia saw Yu Ying enter, a clear look of happiness flashed across her eyes.

“Elder sister!” As soon as Yu Ying stepped into the inner room, the woman who had been sitting obediently on the couch actually tried to rise to greet her.

Yu Ying quickly rushed forward in two strides and stopped her in a panic. “No, no, no—how many times have I told you, we don’t do these silly formalities!”

Hearing this, Zhangjia curved her brows into a smile. “Sister, please sit.”

Yu Ying sat as she was bidden, settling herself at the other end of the couch. Looking at the woman in front of her, her mind drifted again.

The first time Yu Ying had met the Zhangjia Concubine was in the main hall of Changchun Palace. At that time, Yu Ying had been wholly preoccupied with hugging Consort An’s thigh, visiting the main hall almost every day. By coincidence, that day Zhangjia had also come, holding two sachets she had embroidered herself as gifts for Consort An. The two of them bumped into each other at the doorway.

When Yu Ying saw the items the other’s maid was carrying, then looked down at her and Qingtao’s empty hands, she was uncharacteristically embarrassed.

She had been coming here for over a month, always enjoying Consort An’s hospitality—good food and drink—but it had never once occurred to her to bring a gift. Before, she hadn’t thought much of it. But now, in stark contrast, she felt like she was no different from those modern freeloading relatives who come to mooch off others.

That day, Yu Ying didn’t even enter the main hall. She simply turned around and went back to her western side hall.

She thought long and hard about what she should give Consort An.

After much deliberation, she finally decided to take some silver and go visit the Zhangjia Concubine to ask her to teach her embroidery. That way, she could stitch something to present to Consort An herself. No matter how crude the finished product was, at least it would be a token of gratitude.

From that point on, the two women became properly acquainted.

By the time Yu Ying had clumsily managed to embroider a sachet to gift to Consort An, the Zhangjia Concubine had already been diagnosed with a slippery pulse.

A wave of memories she had tried to bury suddenly attacked Yu Ying.

She had been a liberal arts student, and while she wouldn’t call herself an expert on the last feudal dynasty in Chinese history, she knew it reasonably well. Especially the Kangxi Emperor, who was later called “the Emperor of the Ages.” Yu Ying had even written a thesis on the struggle among the nine princes for the throne in Kangxi’s later years.

That was how she knew about Consort Jingmin, Zhangjia, the birth mother of Prince Yinxiang.

But she never dreamed that this Zhangjia would turn out to be that Zhangjia.

Thinking over the dates, Yu Ying recalled that it was nearly time for Yinxiang’s birth. And in this entire harem, she hadn’t heard of any other pregnant Zhangjia concubine.

That meant the Nine Dragons were almost complete—only one had yet to be born.

Finally, Yu Ying understood.

History was truly about to replay itself right before her eyes.