Chapter 258

Chapter 258

If Consort Yi and Consort Ping were to "make peace," the balance of power in the imperial harem would undoubtedly undergo new changes.

Despite efforts to uncover what exactly Consort Ping had said to Consort Yi that made the latter set aside her disdain and reconcile with the very person she had always looked down upon, nothing substantial was discovered.

The fact that Consort Yi was exchanging pleasantries while seeing Consort Ping off was already an obvious message in itself.

However, with fewer spies than in the palace, only superficial details could be observed, and nothing deeper could be uncovered.

The only suspicious detail was that Consort Yi had overturned a teacup during her private conversation with Consort Ping, after dismissing all the maids.

After that, there were no other significant incidents.

Maids kept their distance, with trusted attendants guarding nearby—too far to overhear anything. Thus, no additional useful information could be obtained.

Little did anyone expect that this trip would bring Consort Yi and Consort Ping together.

Originally, the discord between Consort Yi and Consort Ping had maintained a precarious equilibrium among the Four Imperial Consorts. But if these two were to align, it would upset the current balance.

After all, Consort Hui and Consort Xian were only civil on the surface.

Each had sons of their own, and though conflicts had not yet surfaced, it was only a matter of time. They could never truly stand on the same side—unless one chose to renounce the throne and support the other’s son, willingly stepping aside from the competition.

Unfortunately, this was out of the question. Sooner or later, the inevitable clash would come.

For now, they merely maintained a pretense of harmony. After all, given their current status, they no longer needed to struggle like the lower-ranking concubines.

Engaging in bickering with those beneath them would only risk their dignity.

As their sons grew older, their focus would gradually shift toward securing their children’s futures.

At most, they might keep a few young beauties as backups for unforeseen circumstances.

Though Consort Yi appeared assertive, she was less assured when facing Consort Hui and Consort Xian. The unlikely alliance with Consort Ping now altered the situation.

Previously, no one had worried about this possibility because Consort Yi’s temperament made it seem impossible for her to endure, much less align with, someone she despised.

Who could have guessed that she wasn’t as unyielding as assumed?

In the end, she still ended up joining forces with the very woman she had always scorned—Consort Ping.

Yet, beneath her composed exterior, Consort Yi’s heart was far from calm. After falling victim to a hidden scheme and failing to recover despite prolonged treatment, she was seething with resentment.

But she had no choice but to resign herself to fate.

Apart from her trusted imperial physician, she dared not make any major moves, fearing that if word got out, those scheming women would mock her behind her back.

What standing could a concubine who could no longer bear children possibly have?

Even if she enjoyed temporary glory, how long could it last?

Initially, Consort Yi had refused to accept her fate. She believed that as long as she held the Emperor’s favor, she could adopt another’s son—it would be no different.

However, she had no intention of allowing her younger sister, Le Guiren, to bear a child. Logically, adopting a sibling’s child would foster closer ties than raising an outsider’s.

But Consort Yi was fearful her sister would grow ambitious.

Because of the little princess’s situation, though neither sister spoke of it openly, both knew a rift had grown between them. But Consort Yi truly had no other choice.

Raising the little princess herself would give the child a better life, but if her own standing became unstable, wouldn’t it be the little princess and her sister who suffered in the end?

Only by firmly securing Consort Yi’s position could she ensure the best outcome for them and the Gorolo family.

But now, a chance had come. When Consort Yi first heard Consort Ping produce a small porcelain vial, claiming it contained something that could solve her deepest, most unspoken problem—

Consort Ping’s gaze fell on Consort Yi’s abdomen.

Consort Yi instantly flew into a rage and smashed the teacup.

She assumed Consort Ping had come to mock her, daring to joke about such a thing.

But then Consort Ping revealed the very scheme Consort Yi had fallen victim to—a secret Consort Yi had buried deep.

Whether anyone had guessed the truth or not, Consort Yi had deliberately sought faults over time and had them reassigned to remote, grueling posts.

Even the palace servants who had first been involved were silently eliminated by Consort Yi.

She’d rather kill innocents than risk letting the guilty go—only then was the secret kept. Yet, Consort Ping knew. Consort Yi even considered killing her.

If Consort Ping hadn’t mentioned a miraculous cure, claiming that after taking it, the harm from the old scheme would slowly heal—

Consort Yi, of course, didn’t believe it. Even the imperial physician, who had privately treated her for so long, had achieved no improvement. How could Consort Ping possibly have a cure? Ridiculous.

Moreover, how could Consort Yi trust anything brought by Consort Ping enough to ingest it?

But Consort Ping poured out the contents of the vial, splitting it in two, and consumed half right before Consort Yi’s eyes.

Her daring proved it wasn’t poison—otherwise, Consort Ping would never have taken it so recklessly.

"Today, this younger sister has truly come to relieve Elder Sister Consort Yi’s worries. If Elder Sister is unsure, she can take it first and then summon a trusted physician to examine whether it is effective."

Consort Ping slid the saucer containing the remaining half toward Consort Yi.

"Why would I go to all this trouble just to mock you?"

Wouldn’t that just make an enemy for life?

Though she had directly exposed what Consort Yi wished to conceal, as long as she possessed something Consort Yi needed, the latter would not truly turn against her for it.

Clearly, Consort Yi was no fool—she understood Consort Ping’s meaning.

If Consort Ping truly had no confidence, why would she come here in person? Wouldn’t it be better to keep it as leverage to use against her later?

Coming merely to mock her would only provoke her and gain Consort Ping another enemy. If Consort Ping truly acted so foolishly, there would be no logic to it.

Consort Yi’s gaze involuntarily fell upon the substance in the saucer.

Though Consort Ping’s words hit a sore spot, enraging Consort Yi enough to consider murder—what if, just what if, Consort Ping spoke the truth? What if she truly had a solution…

Yet, taking it rashly still left Consort Yi uneasy. She thought of finding an excuse to delay, waiting until a trusted physician could verify its safety before consuming it.

Secondly, if it truly was effective, wouldn’t it be better if the physician could replicate it?

Consort Yi’s thoughts were transparent to Consort Ping, who had no fear of medical examination.

But this was a system-made concoction—its ingredients might not even exist in this world.

Or even if they could be found, the required aging period would not be met. How would Consort Ping explain where this came from then? She wouldn’t risk leaving such a loose end.

Consort Yi was lost in thought when the saucer in front of her was suddenly taken away by Consort Ping, and her gaze involuntarily followed it.

"This is incredibly hard to come by, and it was not easy for me to obtain. If Sister Yi still does not believe me, then I can pretend nothing happened today, and naturally, this cannot be given to you either."

If Consort Yi refused to take it on the spot, Consort Ping would rather call it off and accept having offended her today than leave the item behind for her.

Seeing Consort Ping about to take it back, Consort Yi grew anxious. "Wait!" Her hand instinctively reached out.

"This one is just hesitant, not disbelieving," Consort Yi said, seemingly suppressing her anger.

Only then did Consort Ping pause her attempt to retrieve the item, her smile showing she had the upper hand.

Consort Yi felt a flicker of irritation—she was being manipulated by Consort Ping. But at this point, she had to give in.

Still, Consort Yi needed to understand Consort Ping’s true motives. Nothing in this world was free.

However honeyed Consort Ping’s words might be, Consort Yi refused to believe she had no hidden agenda.

What condition did Consort Ping want?

"You’re too kind, sister," Consort Yi replied. "I truly don’t know how to repay you."

In the end, Consort Ping achieved the result she desired.

Consort Yi took the remaining half in front of Consort Ping and then deliberately prolonged their conversation, seeming to enjoy a pleasant conversation.

In truth, she was stalling, observing whether her body showed any adverse reactions.

Consort Ping played along, humoring her, leading to the show of reconciliation that others later witnessed.

Consort Ping knew Consort Yi would call for a physician afterward, but once the item was ingested, even if her health improved, Consort Yi would have nothing left to show the physician.

Moreover, regarding the cause of her recovery, Consort Yi would naturally hold back all details.

Even the small porcelain vial was not left behind—Consort Ping had the system reclaim it. Since it was a system item, the empty vial could be recycled.

She would not let such a small thing cause trouble, as even an empty container could hold traces of its contents.

And rather than entrusting a servant to dispose of it—since the palace walls had ears—Consort Ping had no faith in the discretion of palace staff.

Thus, she erased every trace.

As for whether Consort Yi would go back on her word, Consort Ping was even less concerned.

Before approaching Consort Yi, she had already considered this possibility.

After all, Consort Ping had taken the other half in front of Consort Yi not only to reassure her of its safety but also to avoid leaving herself a major liability.

Even if Consort Yi remained cordial for a time after recovering, once she bore a prince, the situation would change immediately.

Whether for her son’s future or due to lingering resentment over Consort Ping’s earlier exposure of her secrets—held back only by circumstance—old and new grudges would combine, leaving Consort Ping with a fully empowered enemy.

This would be akin to raising a tiger only to be bitten—defeating one enemy only to create another.

And this enemy would hold even more leverage over her while being twice as wary against her.

This was equivalent to Consort Ping paying a price, only to potentially get bitten back in the end.

There had to be something to keep Consort Yi in check, ensuring that even if she wouldn’t turn against her later, she wouldn’t dare renege on their deal.

That’s where the item came in. If it hadn’t truly had the intended effects, Consort Ping might have had to find another way.

But doing so had also wiped out all her saved reward points meant for upgrading her own looks.

Such a valuable item—had it not been for the other half benefiting Consort Ping herself—she would never have let Consort Yi off so easily.

There were son-bearing pills, daughter-bearing pills, and naturally, there were also those for both.

But with this kind, taking only half would ensure the birth of only one gender. Thus, the point cost was much higher than the first two types.

The half Consort Ping had taken herself would mean she would only bear princes.

As for the other half Consort Yi had taken, it would mean she would only bear princesses—every last one.

Only princesses—no matter how many Consort Yi bore, Consort Ping wouldn’t care in the slightest. After all, once these princesses grew up, they would inevitably be sent far away for political marriages, nothing to worry about.

Was this really deception?

She had indeed given Consort Yi the chance to bear children and become a mother, giving her something to look forward to.

Moreover, with only half the pill, Consort Yi would surely think it was only half-effective.

Even if the imperial physician said she was healthier, while thrilled, Consort Yi would recall that Consort Ping had taken the other half in front of her.

What if missing that half caused problems?

But Consort Ping would never tell her the truth.

Consort Yi would also realize that since Consort Ping had the pill to begin with, she must still have more.

And for the sake of that "other half" in Consort Ping’s hands, Consort Yi wouldn’t dare to turn against her.

She would keep their transaction under wraps, not letting a word slip—after all, her own future was at stake.

Now that she had hope, whether for the sake of their alliance against Rong Noble Consort or for her own benefit, the bond between them would only tighten.

Consort Yi understood well—as long as Rong Noble Consort remained, she would always stand in their way.

Without imperial favor, what use was restored health? Wouldn’t it all still come to nothing?

Hadn’t her previous reluctance to compete come from fear that others might discover her infertility?

Otherwise, at the peak of her beauty, how could she have given up so easily? Would she truly have been content?

This way, she could keep her secret hidden while firmly holding onto her current position. Anyone who wanted to pull her down would have to think twice.

But now, with newfound hope, the situation was different. She could no longer afford to go with the flow.

All of this was within Consort Ping’s control. She needed an ally to openly oppose Rong Noble Consort.

And Consort Yi, in terms of status, was no lowly Junior Concubine who could be crushed in a single move.

With Consort Yi’s lifeline in her grasp, Consort Ping felt this was her biggest win yet.

Though Kangxi came and went in haste, he would eventually return to the temporary palace to rest.

On previous occasions when he returned late, the Emperor simply slept alone.

Rong Noble Consort fell ill from travel fatigue as soon as she arrived. The Emperor was busy, at most paying her a brief visit before hurrying away, spending the nights alone.

The accompanying concubines fully believed that Rong Noble Consort had gotten rashes due to climate sickness.

Rashes don’t discriminate—once they appear, there’s no stopping them, even if they spread across the face.

The fact that the Emperor only briefly visited Rong Noble Consort before hastily departing surely meant her face had indeed erupted in rashes—perhaps so severely that it was too awful to look at.

Perhaps the Emperor had even seen her rash-covered face, been startled, and left in a hurry.

If not for Rong Noble Consort not seeing anyone, they would have gladly gone using the excuse of checking on her, just to see whether the rashes had ruined her face.

Rumor had it that if not properly treated, severe cases could leave scars.

If that perfect face were scarred, wouldn’t it be…?

But with imperial physicians dedicated to her treatment, trying various prescriptions and methods to help her recover, the likelihood of scarring was slim—unless it was sabotage.

Yet this wasn’t the right moment to make a move. Investigating the accompanying concubines would be far easier than like finding a needle in a haystack back in the palace.

Not only was it too risky, but even with a scapegoat, others might use it against them.

No intelligent person would make a move now.

Still, they secretly hoped some fool would take the risk.

After all, Rong Noble Consort’s face was just too annoying.

Even if the Emperor, disgusted by her rash-covered face, had lost interest for now—

It was only temporary. Once her face healed, she could easily win him back with that beauty of hers.

Truly, that face of hers was such a nuisance.

Some, taking advantage of her current predicament, began scheming—hoping to "run into" the Emperor upon his return, catching his eye, and perhaps even…

After all, if they didn’t act now, someone else might get there first.

With Rong Noble Consort likely too busy dealing with her own problems—probably hiding away, crying about her face—she wouldn’t be able to get in their way.

At the very least, not for now.

Heaven knew how many had been furious upon learning Rong Noble Consort would be accompanying them. Though they’d expected it, confirmation still stung.

With her around, the entire trip would revolve around her.

During the journey, after just a short distance, the Emperor had kept Rong Noble Consort by his side—she hadn’t returned to her own carriage even once upon reaching the temporary palace.

The others endured the exhausting travel without complaint, while she enjoyed every moment of it.

Now, before they could even devise ways to create opportunities, fate had delivered one to them.

Truly, what she deserved! For Rong Noble Consort—that delicate, pampered creature—to fall ill from travel fatigue, and with rashes no less! Wasn’t this justice?

Just because the trip was uneventful doesn’t mean bad luck won’t strike.

But then Rong Noble Consort broke out in rashes that very night, and by the next day, everyone else had rested up and started mingling again—all thanks to this curveball.

They just wanted someone to swap stories with.

Of course, they still made their move while laughing at the situation.

They all had their maids dig out their fanciest outfits from their trunks, changing into them with care, and picking every last hairpin and powder with care.

They were itching to stage a 'chance' meeting, waiting for the Emperor to return so they could greet him properly.

But Kangxi was in and out in a flash. When they finally managed to catch him returning to the palace still in his traveling robes, they stepped forward to bow—only to be stopped before they could get close.

Just as they were about to speak, Kangxi hurried past without pausing, his face stone-cold as he blew right past her, followed closely by his entourage in tow, before disappearing like ghosts.

She’d pictured the Emperor noticing her, stopping, and after she bowed, motioning for her to rise—but instead, her first attempt ended in failure.

The reality fell painfully short.

Not only did he not stop, but Kangxi didn’t even seem to give her a second look, his expression stern and indifferent as he strode away without hesitation.

He likely hadn’t even given her a second look—making all her effort a total waste.

This botched 'accidental' meetup was bound to become a lesson for others.

After all, those who acted too hastily, without careful planning, might succeed briefly—but not for long, as others would soon copy the same method.

If it flopped, they’d just bide their time and let others try.

It was every woman for herself.

Seeing an opening, they were all ready to pull out all the stops.

But once Kangxi got back, he swapped into everyday clothes and went straight back to Rong Noble Consort.

This time, he didn’t just glance briefly before leaving—he stayed for a long while!

What happened to his usual rush in and out?

Had Rong Noble Consort’s rash cleared up overnight?!

Their excitement fizzled out like a candle in the rain, leaving them seething and soul-crushed.

——

Su Yi eyed the shadow behind the screen. Even if she had truly been asleep earlier, she was awake now.

Su Yi stayed still, just cracking her eyes open to peek—likely unnoticed, as she hadn’t stirred at all.

But Kangxi had been planted there forever, neither leaving nor stepping around the screen to enter.

Su Yi: *Well, this is awkward.*

Su Yi rolled onto her side.

She could still feel his eyes boring into her back.

This was worse than before. Su Yi flipped back over, face blank.

Her restless shifting was hard to miss, as the screen was only a thin layer—not completely opaque—and you could still make out shapes through it.

No big deal. Just regular sleep movements. Nobody sleeps like a statue, anyway. It's normal to shift while sleeping, Su Yi thought as she closed her eyes.

*Knock knock*

There was a sound of something being knocked.

*Knock* *Knock knock knock*...

The sound of knuckles knocking against wood—she remembered the frame of that screen was made of sandalwood.

And it had rhythm too.

Not steady, but one that changed intermittently. If it were totally random, that would’ve been one thing, but it was rhythmic for a while before suddenly shifting.

Just when you thought you had the pattern, it jarringly switched, almost as if you could hum to it.

Then it abruptly switched to another rhythm, cutting off your attempt to follow the previous one.

It wasn’t a big deal, really—just something that could drive a perfectionist crazy.

Who else would pull this but the person standing behind the screen? Who else?!

Su Yi sat up against the headboard, ready to snap.

Then she remembered she was still feeling unwell, and her words came out weak, barely audible. "What are you doing?"

But would the other person even hear her clearly like this?

Thinking this, Su Yi wondered if she should speak up.

After all, the distance between them was like shouting across a banquet hall—even face-to-face, speaking too softly would make it hard to hear, let alone calling across the room.

The tapping on the screen frame finally stopped. Finally, quiet.

*Sigh—*

Su Yi just felt that this annoying perfectionist itch had finally settled. God knew how much she had wanted to say, ‘Just stick to that rhythm! That one!’

Kangxi heard her and replied, "Trying to get your attention."

His tone sounded completely normal—weirdly normal.

Su Yi: ...

She had expected Kangxi to come up with some proper excuse, but this killer move threw her off completely.

Yes, you have indeed successfully captured my attention.

Su Yi thought Kangxi would come in after saying that, but the man remained standing outside the screen.

"Why are you still standing there?" Su Yi started talking to Kangxi through the screen.

Perhaps he hadn’t approached earlier because he thought she was still asleep. But she was clearly awake now.

What's taking him so long?

Don't tell me...?! Su Yi's eyes darted as she touched her face, about to speak.

What goes around comes around.

"The medicine smell is pretty strong over here, Consort," Kangxi's voice came through from behind the screen.

Su Yi: !!

So this is why he's standing so far away?!

And isn't the strongest source of this medicinal smell none other than her, slathering on ointment seven or eight times a day?!

Feeling as though she's completely marinated in the smell, Su Yi lost it at this remark.

Who exactly are you talking about?!!!

Forgetting all about her weakness and melancholy, Su Yi immediately got up and headed straight for the screen.

She'd give him a good whiff up close—did he even realize what he was smelling now was already the diluted version?!

Not even bothering to put her shoes on properly, Su Yi shuffled over in half-on embroidered slippers. Kangxi moved behind the screen as if about to leave.

Su Yi picked up speed, rounding the screen—this huge thing in the way, she'd move it to a corner later.

The moment she cleared the screen, she was pulled into a tight hug.

Kangxi scooped her up, amusement twinkling in his eyes—clearly, he'd been waiting here on purpose.

Now this was truly successfully capturing the consort's attention.

Kangxi nuzzled her nose with his, his chest vibrating slightly with quiet laughter—something Su Yi, held aloft, couldn't possibly miss.

Her feet dangling, Su Yi kicked lightly, causing one loosely worn embroidered shoe to drop entirely, the other barely hanging on.

"My shoe fell off!" she protested, but couldn't evade his puppy-like nuzzling.

Carrying her past the screen, Kangxi said, "I'm holding you—your feet won't get dirty," and she finally stopped squirming.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Su Yi leaned in until their faces were almost touching. Try as she might to suppress it, triumph crept into her voice:

"The medicinal smell is pretty strong, huh?"

Let's see you escape this!

Kangxi snorted. "Yes."

Such bluntness left Su Yi feeling both smug and strangely disappointed.

As he carried her back, she pursed her lips in annoyance, immediately releasing him upon touching the bed—her expression changing as quick as a child's.

Tugging at the blanket, she only managed to free a corner—most of it trapped beneath her. No wonder she could only cover her belly.

Fine. At least this prevents catching cold. Su Yi decided to make do, pulling the fabric over her head.

Yanking the quilt out from under her in front of Kangxi seemed a bit foolish, and Su Yi didn’t want to do it—it irritated her.

Kangxi seized the chance to sit on the edge of the bed, watching Su Yi wrestle with the quilt until she ended up pulling a corner over her head. He couldn’t help but laugh.

But Kangxi quickly cut off his laugh just as Su Yi flung the quilt off her face and glared at him.

Kangxi’s expression had already returned to its usual deadpan look. Now, meeting Su Yi’s gaze, he didn’t avoid it or waver in the slightest.

He didn’t look the least bit guilty, then spoke in a concerned tone, “Alright, cover yourself properly so you don’t catch a cold.”

He prodded Su Yi to shift over slightly so he could free the trapped quilt.

Su Yi: *Yeah, sure you do.*

With an expressionless face, Su Yi rolled to the side. Kangxi picked up the crumpled quilt and, true to his word, didn’t mess around—just neatly covered her with it.

Then, without missing a beat, he lifted the quilt and lay down beside her.

Su Yi: “…”

*When the hell had he taken his shoes off?* Unable to resist, Su Yi stretched her foot to check—yep, he really had taken them off.

*Fine, fine. Of course, Mr. Fastidious wouldn’t dream of sleeping with his shoes on.*

But then she remembered—how did this even happen?

Oh right…

She had been sleeping alone, hadn’t she?

And now… well, now there was someone else here.

Kangxi sprawled on his back while Su Yi turned onto her side, jabbing a finger into his shoulder. Kangxi remained unruffled. “What is it, Imperial Concubine?”

Su Yi: *Oh, now you wanna know?*

“Weren’t you the one who said the medicine smell was too strong?” Yet here you are, lying right next to me.

Between her and the damn quilt, Kangxi was gonna reek of medicine too.

*Hmph.*

At this, Kangxi finally reacted, turning onto his side as well. “I never said that,” he replied, looking as though he’d never uttered such words.

His comeback was a carbon copy of Su Yi’s usual *“I didn’t, I wouldn’t, don’t make things up!”*

*Unbelievable.*

His attitude shut Su Yi right up.

She began to wonder—had Kangxi come over today just to cash in on all the teasing he’d skipped in the past few days? Was this his way of cramming it all into one go?

And then this asshole actually dared to pull her in for an embrace.

“Just a few more days of this ointment, and it’ll be fine. Then you won’t have to use it anymore,” Kangxi said gently, looking at Su Yi.

He seemed perfectly at ease with the strong medicinal smell—didn’t even bat an eye, as if it were no different from usual.

Other than that initial comment meant to lure his lazy concubine (who had been pretending not to notice his arrival) out of bed, he hadn’t mentioned it again. Su Yi remembered that too, her expression wilting. The bitter scent seemed to cling to her nose, and she deflated like a balloon.

"Does it have to smell this bad?" Su Yi said slowly.

A couple days ago, she had already pestered the imperial physician about how to make the outer layer of the medicinal pills taste slightly sweet when taken, rather than bitter.

Su Yi observed the imperial physician—though still wearing his hat, the bit of forehead peeking out looked surprisingly smooth.

"Then have the imperial physician adjust it further," Kangxi suggested a feasible solution, putting the pressure back on the imperial physician.

The medicine reeked, and with frequent reapplications throughout the day, it was understandable that the Noble Consort would be bothered by it.

Su Yi was tempted, but recalling how each upgraded version of the ointment had gotten smellier, she declined softly, "No need."

She added in a whisper, "It'll be better soon anyway." No point bothering the imperial physician again.

Kangxi stroked her hair, his face was blank, but his eyes smiled.

Half-asleep, she heard him get up. Born to wake up early—never slept in once, even without morning court duties.

Just as Su Yi was about to drift back to sleep, she caught the scent of medicine again, along with that familiar gooey feeling on her face. Remembering the frequent ointment reapplications these past few days, she realized it was time for another round.

Since Qinxin had been handling it these days, she ignored it.

Kangxi, noticing her slipping back into slumber, moved even more gently.

He hadn’t mentioned reapplying the ointment the previous night because Qinxin had already done so before bedtime, so another round wasn’t needed.

However, hearing from the imperial physician and palace attendants that her condition had improved somewhat, Kangxi still wanted to check for himself. While the rash on her face had mostly faded, he wondered about the progress on the rest of her body.

Bringing up another ointment application last night would have meant another night of no sleep—so he had refrained.

This morning, Kangxi rose earlier than usual, spending extra time applying the ointment before leaving.

Though Kangxi always rose early to depart, Su Yi’s routine—especially her waking hours—remained the latest among all.

Apart from Su Yi, everyone else rose early as well.

Yet, no sooner had their restless thoughts begun to stir than they were doused with cold reality—how could anyone sleep well under such circumstances?

The only one who slept soundly was, unsurprisingly, her.

By the time the others rose, dark circles under their eyes made them look worse than if they’d traveled for days.

Consort Ping, though not physically weary from lack of sleep, was in a foul mood, her victory in winning over Consort Yi now drowned in bitterness.

Did Kangxi really prefer a fragile, sickly beauty?

Consort Ping couldn’t help but question her initial strategy of deliberately adopting a persona distinct from Rong Noble Consort to avoid comparison.

Yet, her efforts had gone nowhere.

Meanwhile, despite Rong Noble Consort constantly getting sick, Kangxi always found time to visit her.

Even during busy periods like the current Mulan hunting expedition, when daily visits were impossible, he still made time to see her.

Previously, though his visits had been brief—claiming her rash meant he couldn’t stay long—no one seemed to notice the obvious difference: even when her face was ruined by sickness, Rong Noble Consort still received his attention, while they did not.

A frail, ailing beauty... was that the trick?