Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel)

Mid-Autumn Festival had passed, and before the weather turned completely cold, Emperor Kangxi issued an edict to take the entire family to Rehe (Jehol).

It was the annual tradition—Mulan Autumn Hunt.

This happened every year, and to be honest, Cheng Wanyun was no longer interested. Although hunting was fun, she had already tried it in the hunting grounds before. The experience, however, was far from pleasant—her dog, Wang Cai, had taken off in a mad sprint with her, causing her to lose a shoe. While she sat on the grass waiting for Tianjin to retrieve it, Wang Cai had been enthusiastically digging in the distance. After quite some time, he proudly returned with a prize— a large gray rat, about the size of a palm, clamped in his mouth!

To make matters worse, the rat was still alive! Its four tiny paws flailed helplessly in the air. With his tail wagging furiously, Wang Cai proudly dropped the rat right in front of her.

Cheng Wanyun let out a terrified scream and scrambled three steps backward on all fours.

From that moment on, she never wanted to go hunting again.

Moreover, the journey to Rehe and back took nearly a month. Sitting in a carriage all day, drinking tea and playing chess, wasn’t too bad for her, as she was someone who enjoyed staying indoors. However, for children, being confined in such a small space was pure torment. And for her—traveling with children was an even greater form of suffering. They constantly wanted to get out and play, to eat different snacks, and, worst of all, they spent two-thirds of the day calling out to her:

“Mother, look! I can climb to the roof of the carriage!”

“Mother, play with me!”

“Mother, I want water!”

“Mother, I want to get off!”

“Mother, I want to ride a horse!”

“Mother! Mother! Mother! Mother!”

Especially with a child as energetic as E Linzhu, who nearly shook the carriage apart every trip, Cheng Wanyun always ended up losing more hair than she could count.

Fortunately, before she reached her breaking point and started disciplining the children, the Crown Prince would always sneak over from Emperor Kangxi’s side, bundle the two kids up, and send them off to their imperial grandfather’s carriage to pester him instead—giving her a much-needed moment of peace.

In conclusion: never travel with kids.

Cheng Wanyun sighed, rubbing her temples. Lately, taking care of the children had been exhausting her more than ever. It seemed that as they grew older, they became even more troublesome!

That said, since Emperor Kangxi had personally named her to accompany him, it was an honor—one the Crown Prince couldn’t easily refuse. Furthermore, since the Crown Princess had just entered the family, this trip was the perfect opportunity for her to bond with the other noblewomen, fully integrate into the royal circle, and establish a new path for diplomatic relations among the ladies of the court.

After thinking it through, the Crown Prince decisively waved his hand and decided to take the Crown Princess, Cheng Wanyun, and their three children along, leaving Tang Gege to manage the household. The Crown Princess would primarily handle external social interactions, while Cheng Wanyun would take care of the children—one handling diplomacy, the other managing the family.

As for the Crown Prince himself, he had to oversee the bigger picture. Emperor Kangxi was particularly skilled at delegating tasks to his sons, and this time, the responsibility of organizing the journey to Rehe was once again placed on his shoulders. To assist him, Kangxi assigned Maqi, the Minister of Revenue, despite his nickname, “Ma Bu Ba” (Ma the Stingy), because he controlled the treasury.

While coordinating the trip, Yinreng realized that the Shanpu Camp was severely understaffed. The camp’s chief, Geng’e, was a household servant of the Hesheri clan and had close ties with Yinreng. With a bitter smile, Geng’e explained, “The Shanpu Camp only admits Manchus and noble families, but which noble today isn’t overly pampered? Nowadays, the Eight Banners aristocrats are either carrying birdcages to the teahouses or flocking to the opera houses to fawn over performers. Who would willingly come to the palace to endure hardship? Naturally, they prefer their leisurely social circles outside, which has led to a serious manpower shortage.”

Realizing the gravity of the issue, Yinreng decided to bring it up with Emperor Kangxi. Instead of following his original path, he turned toward Qianqing Palace.

When he arrived, Kangxi was in Yangxin Hall, reviewing memorials. Just as the Emperor finished one document, he gently blew on the ink to dry it. Upon seeing Yinreng enter, he smiled and said, “What wind has blown you here? Ever since you got married, you’ve been holed up at home, enjoying the warmth of your wife and children. If it weren’t for the Mulan Autumn Hunt, I doubt I could have even summoned you!”

Kangxi was exaggerating, of course. Yinreng had never once missed his daily morning and evening visits to pay respects. However, apart from handling the smallpox vaccination campaign, he had distanced himself from most government affairs, preferring to return to Yuqing Palace after greetings. His harmonious relationship with the Crown Princess pleased Kangxi, but the Emperor couldn’t help but caution him, “The Crown Princess is indeed a good wife, but you must not let love and family life weaken your ambition and will.”

“You are absolutely right, Father.”

Yinreng truly had no desire to meddle in the messy affairs of the Six Ministries. Emperor Kangxi often treated his sons like imperial envoys, frequently sending them to inspect government affairs or oversee regional officials. While Yinreng had the nominal authority to advise on state matters and military affairs, he had no actual power to control his brothers.

Currently:
– The eldest prince (Yinzhi) was in the Ministry of War.

– The fourth prince (Yinzhen) had been deliberately placed in the Ministry of Revenue.

– The fifth and seventh princes were sent to the Ministry of Rites to “retire in peace.”

– The eighth prince, still young, had been assigned to the Ministry of Justice to clean up the mess left behind by the fifth prince.

Yinreng couldn’t help but wonder: What will happen when my brothers gain power over time? The more influence they accumulated, the more followers they would attract. If they ever developed ambitions toward the throne, how should he, the Crown Prince, respond?

For now, there were no signs of such a crisis. But in his dreams, he had already seen the future.

Kangxi probably never considered this possibility.

The Emperor had always been confident, believing everything was under his control. And indeed, he was right—because in the end, none of the princes ever truly won against him. They were all merely pieces on his chessboard.

Kangxi had discussed this issue with him in complete honesty.

Unlike in his dreams, this time Yinreng had not committed those few acts that had made Kangxi despise him in the past. Therefore, before assigning his brothers their posts, Kangxi had shared his thoughts with him:

“The Hongwu Emperor (Zhu Yuanzhang) divided his sons into regional fiefdoms, believing they would safeguard the capital. But instead, he planted the seeds for the ‘Jingnan Rebellion.’ Later, the Ming Dynasty raised so many imperial relatives, and all they produced were a bunch of idle, useless aristocrats, living off state resources. After the ‘Ren-Xuan Rule’ (the brief golden age under the Ming Emperors Ren and Xuan), was there ever another competent Ming Emperor? Even merging minor royal branches into the main lineage did nothing to change this. The entire system was flawed at its root.”

Learning from the mistakes that led to the downfall of the Ming Dynasty, Emperor Kangxi decided not to grant his sons independent fiefdoms but to keep them under his watchful eye. However, merely keeping an eye on them wasn’t enough—they needed responsibilities. Otherwise, wouldn’t they just be raised like pigs in a pen? As long as he was in power, how could his sons dare to form factions? Besides, after reading so many books on loyalty and patriotism, surely they wouldn’t let all that knowledge go to waste? Kangxi believed he was far wiser than the Hongwu Emperor of the Ming.

Yinreng could only smile bitterly.

Power moves the heart. Who would still remember the teachings of the sages when faced with personal gain? He certainly hadn’t forgotten the expression on his eldest brother’s face after he was deposed in his dreams.

He sighed, unwilling to dwell on the future. He would deal with problems as they arose. For now, the pressing issue was fixing the Shanpu Camp.

Frowning, he followed Kangxi’s line of thought and said, “There is something that directly relates to what Father just mentioned. I just inspected the Shanpu Camp, and its state is truly appalling. The training grounds were empty, yet the barracks were filled with the sound of dice rolling. Some men have been on leave for half a year and haven’t even returned to report back. The camp is severely understaffed—it’s truly…”

“Is that really the case?” Kangxi’s expression darkened at once. “And Geng’e, as the chief steward, never thought to report this to me? Allowing things to decay like this is absolutely unacceptable!”

“Father, your wisdom sees all. The Shanpu Camp is composed entirely of the sons of noble families. They are arrogant and difficult to manage. Geng’e finds it hard to discipline them. Originally, our intent was good—we wanted to provide an alternative career path for the Eight Banner youths. But instead of appreciating it, they grumble and complain! In my humble opinion, we should allow recruitment based on merit rather than birthright. Bringing in truly skilled individuals would not only strengthen the camp but also serve as motivation for the current members. Who knows? Even those who seemed like lost causes might rise to the challenge.”

Kangxi’s face remained stern as he said coldly, “Do you know why I insist on attending the Mulan Autumn Hunt every year? Without an annual inspection and military training, the Eight Banner nobles would have long become completely useless! You are absolutely right—if they are unworthy, let’s replace them with those who are. The Shanpu Camp serves as my personal guard. If even they have no sense of discipline, they are beyond saving!”

Having long harbored dissatisfaction with the entitled attitudes of the Eight Banner nobles, Kangxi made his decision on the spot.

Seizing the moment, Yinreng clapped his hands and grinned. “Then, Father, I must request a favor on behalf of the Crown Princess!”

Kangxi raised an eyebrow in surprise. “How does this suddenly involve the Crown Princess?” Then, realizing what Yinreng was getting at, he narrowed his eyes. “Ah… You’re trying to secure a position in the Shanpu Camp for the Shi family’s sons, aren’t you? Bold move! You dare to play your little schemes on me?”

Having seen through his son’s intentions, Kangxi was mildly irritated, fixing Yinreng with a piercing gaze.

But Yinreng remained unfazed. With a respectful bow, he smiled and said, “I inspected the Shanpu Camp first; only afterward did I think about recommending my brothers-in-law. Every word I just said was the truth. Besides, I have already suggested recruitment based on merit. If the Crown Princess’s brothers, Fudali and Qingde, are not competent enough to pass the examinations, I would have no face to make this request.”

Kangxi let out a cold huff, but inwardly, he was no longer annoyed. The Crown Prince’s actions showed that he was pleased with the Crown Princess, and as a father, how could Kangxi not be happy to see his son in a harmonious marriage? Especially since he was the one who had chosen the Crown Princess!

After a moment of thought, Kangxi remarked, “I seem to recall that the Crown Princess has three brothers. Besides Fudali and Qingde, isn’t there also a younger one named Guanyinbao?” If they were going to add recruits, why not include all three?

Yinreng was caught between laughter and tears. “Father, you must be mistaken. Guanyinbao is still a child! He’s only about ten years old this year!”

Kangxi burst into hearty laughter. “Ah, yes, yes. I remember now! During my southern tour back then, Shi Wenbing specifically brought him to me so that I could name him. Since he was unexpectedly born in a temple and was weak from being a premature baby, I gave him that name. He was just a swaddled infant back then—of course, he’s still young!”

Seeing Kangxi’s anger turn into amusement, Yinreng patiently indulged him in reminiscing about Shi Wenbing’s virtues. Eventually, Kangxi sighed and revealed the circumstances of Shi Wenbing’s death:

“I sent people to investigate along the southern coast. When they reached Fuzhou, they learned that, before setting out to escort his daughter to the capital, he had led troops out to sea fifteen times in succession! He fought his way from northern Fujian all the way to the south, completely wiping out the pirate strongholds at sea, leaving the Japanese raiders so terrified that they would flee at the mere sight of the Qing imperial flag! Shi Wenbing estimated that over seventy to eighty percent of the enemy’s fighting men had been killed. He believed they wouldn’t have the strength to invade again for at least a year or two. Only then did he feel at ease leaving the people of Fujian to bring his daughter to the capital. But who could have expected that, exhausted from the journey, his old wounds would reopen, and he would pass away on the road…”

“It was I who caused his death!” Kangxi’s eyes welled with tears. “Many did not understand why I chose the Shi family for your marriage, but I knew my own ministers well. Though the Shi family were former Ming defectors, they were devoted to the people and were truly loyal officials! They were fearless warriors, upright and honorable men of integrity. The Crown Princess is the same—virtuous, gentle, well-educated, and well-mannered. She is a good child.”

Hearing the true cause of Shi Wenbing’s death, Yinreng was deeply moved. He hadn’t expected such a story behind it. However, when he heard Kangxi’s description of the Crown Princess, he couldn’t help but find it… amusing.

His expression turned slightly strange.

“Well-educated and well-mannered… Does that mean she studied military texts?”

The Crown Princess had never spoken about it herself, but from his quiet observations, she was certainly not the typical delicate noblewoman. She had a strong and determined character, always had her own opinions, and was not easily swayed. Yinreng respected her for that.

Still, as the principal wife of the Crown Prince, her demeanor could be somewhat too rigid and formal. After spending time with her, he often felt as though he were dealing with an official or a bodyguard rather than a wife.

For instance, not long ago, they had dined together. The Crown Princess, adhering strictly to etiquette, ate in complete silence. The quiet was so stifling that Yinreng felt as if he could hear a needle drop. Feeling awkward, he casually asked, “What did you usually do at home?”

Unexpectedly, the Crown Princess raised her eyes and replied, “Are you asking because you wish to know about the administrative and military affairs of the Shi family in Fuzhou, or do you truly want to know about me?”

Yinreng was instantly at a loss for words.

Looking back on that conversation, Yinreng sighed. She is too heavy-hearted.

Couldn’t he just ask a casual question?

There were many similar instances in the past few days. For example, if he entered the main hall while she was still handling affairs, she would immediately rise and apologize but would also request to finish her work first, suggesting that he go and sit with the secondary concubine and geges in the meantime.

Yinreng: “…” She is a true matriarch.

This made it difficult for him to develop any real affection for her.

Instead, he thought of A Wan.

A Wan would never have responded to him like that. She would have smiled and told him stories about her childhood with her younger siblings, her father’s embarrassing moments, or how her pet turtle was incredibly accurate at fortune-telling.

He had deliberately ensured that A Wan never had to bear the weight of heavy burdens. She only needed to be herself. During the harshest times in his life, she was the glimpse of spring in his long winter. When he was with A Wan, the tight grip of tension in his heart would loosen.

Looking back, Yinreng realized that he could only truly be himself in A Wan’s courtyard.

There, he could take off his shoes and socks without worrying about etiquette.

He could eat spicy food until he had to fan his mouth and stick out his tongue.

He could hide under the bed canopy, reading storybooks while munching on sunflower seeds.

He could sneak onto the palace walls with her to release sky lanterns when Kangxi was away inspecting riverworks.

He could do all the simple, ordinary things in life.

A Wan never asked about his political affairs, never questioned whether he had performed well in his duties. She only cared about whether he had eaten breakfast before leaving in the morning, thought of ways to make him good food, and worried about whether he was happy each day, always finding ways to help him relax.

But with the Crown Princess, he was pulled back into reality.

With her, he had to uphold the image of the heir apparent, always maintaining his dignity as the Crown Prince.

He was a prisoner of the palace, unable to leave, unable to let his soul cry out freely.

Yet, he harbored no resentment toward the Crown Princess. She was exactly what he needed.

She was a capable and reliable partner—especially after hearing Kangxi’s words, Yinreng began to see the Shi family in a new light.

Although their influence in the capital was limited, their military capabilities were undoubtedly strong. After all, from the late Ming dynasty onward, the Shi family had produced four generations of military commanders, guarding the empire’s borders and producing many distinguished generals.

If used wisely, they could be a sharp and formidable sword in his hands.

At the very least, when it came to protecting the country and upholding righteousness, the Shi family had never failed the court.

Yinreng even pondered: The Southern Song had the Yue Family Army, the Ming Dynasty had the Qi Family Army—why couldn’t the Qing Dynasty have a Shi Family Army? A Cheng Family Army?

Perhaps in the future, he could assess the capabilities of the younger generations from the Shi and Cheng families. The Cheng family was not as influential, but the Shi family had produced generations of renowned generals. If properly cultivated, they might be able to train a true military talent.

Having received Kangxi’s approval, Yinreng took it a step further:

“In that case, I have thought it over carefully. To avoid any accusations of favoritism and ensure fairness, why not expand the selection process? I could visit my elder brother and a few younger brothers and ask if there are any skilled young men from their wives’ families. If they are capable, they should also be allowed to participate in the examination and selection process. Everything will be based on merit. What do you think, Imperial Father?”

Kangxi nodded in agreement. “You’ve considered this thoroughly. Proceed as planned. Make sure all positions are filled before we set out for Rehe.”

“Yes, I will carry out your orders.”

Yinreng, having settled this matter, never once mentioned A Wan, yet still achieved his goal.

With a satisfied smile, he left the Qianqing Palace.

He then ordered E Chu to personally visit the Cheng family, instructed He Baozhong to return and inform the Crown Princess, and dispatched two eunuchs to visit the other princes’ residences and relay the message.

Yinreng then personally went to explain everything in detail to Geng’e, specifically mentioning the names of the Shi and Cheng family sons. While other candidates were included for appearances, these three had to be placed in the ranks at all costs.

Geng’e, of course, agreed without hesitation.

Getting rid of those arrogant, self-important noble sons? He couldn’t ask for anything better! Looking after the Crown Prince’s young brothers-in-law was an enviable assignment—one that could only bring him favor. If these young men proved successful in the future, wouldn’t the Crown Prince remember his efforts?

Meanwhile, Cheng Wanyun had no idea that the Crown Prince had already planned out Cheng Huai Jing’s future. The Cheng family had originally expected Huai Jing to take the military exam, but now, he was about to leap straight to the top.

After delivering the message to the Cheng family, E Chu immediately rushed off again, heading for the largest bookstores in the capital to buy the novels Cheng Wanyun had asked for. He rode his horse at full speed.

Back at the Cheng residence, Master Cheng and Madam Wu managed to maintain their composure in front of E Chu, but the moment he disappeared down the alleyway, Master Cheng turned around and dropped to his knees, nearly fainting from joy. Madam Wu, her voice trembling, hurried to summon their son back from the martial arts school, while a servant was sent to the marketplace to purchase a new set of clothes and shoes—so that Huai Jing could present himself at the palace properly.

In the main hall, the Crown Princess sat holding a teacup, but she didn’t take a single sip. After listening to He Baozhong’s report, she stared out the window for a long time.

There were no elders left in her family; as the eldest sister, she had taken on the role of a mother. The future of the Shi family and her three younger brothers rested on her shoulders. Now, seeing how the Crown Prince truly cared for her family, she felt nothing but deep gratitude.

She also knew there was no returning to her past life. She now had only one identity—Crown Princess of the Great Qing. She had to uphold her duty and could no longer act as boldly as a man.

The palace was her new battlefield, and she would carve out a path to glory and fortune for the Shi family! She couldn’t let her father’s death be in vain.

She remembered Shi Wenbing’s dying words, as he grasped her hand:

“Mingjie’er, from now on, the Shi family depends on you.”

She understood. And she would fulfill that promise.

But until today, she had never truly trusted the Crown Prince—never fully entrusted him with her heart.

Now, she could finally breathe easy.

The Crown Prince had not abandoned the Shi family. Instead, he had done everything in his power to support them. Observing his actions, she could tell—one day, he would be a benevolent ruler.

From this moment on, she would wholeheartedly support him. She would be a good wife and a good mistress of the household.

“To those who treat me with sincerity, I will repay them with my heart.”

The Crown Princess made a silent vow.

Meanwhile, in the rear courtyard, where tree shadows danced with the flowers, none of these heavy matters reached Cheng Wanyun’s ears.

She was happily humming a tune, making snow skin mooncakes under the moonlight.

She had originally planned to make them for Mid-Autumn Festival, hoping to show off at the family banquet. However, despite hours of experimenting with Eunuch Zheng, they had failed to create the right snow skin texture, and her grand plan had fallen apart.

But today, Zheng Taijian suddenly sent Sanbao rushing over, brimming with excitement—he had finally figured out the snow skin recipe and had brought it over to see if she approved.

Cheng Wanyun leaned forward to examine the two small, translucent white mooncakes sitting on the white porcelain plate.

When she first attempted to make snow skin mooncakes, all she knew was that traditional mooncake crusts were made from syrup, which turned golden brown after baking. In contrast, snow skin mooncakes were made from glutinous rice, stored in the refrigerator, and had a beautiful, semi-transparent white appearance.

However, when she tried making them using fully cooked glutinous rice flour, the crust quickly hardened and cracked. The result was ugly—nothing like the smooth, delicate mooncakes she had seen in her past life.

Clearly, the crust couldn’t be made from just glutinous rice flour. But what else was in it? Cheng Wanyun had no idea. She and Eunuch Zheng Taijian could only guess and experiment repeatedly, which was why she missed the Mid-Autumn Festival deadline.

But now, the mooncakes presented by Zheng Taijian actually looked perfect! Cheng Wanyun picked one up and examined it closely—pure white and flawless, with no cracks. It felt slightly sticky to the touch, though that was likely because it hadn’t been refrigerated yet.

“Your master is amazing! How did he make it?” Cheng Wanyun took a bite, her eyes lighting up with delight. “This is it! This is exactly what I wanted!”

Sanbao, finally relieved, grinned so wide that his eyes nearly disappeared. “Master Cheng, the crust is made from a mixture of rice flour, wheat starch, regular flour, glutinous rice flour, sugar, milk, and soybean oil!”

Cheng Wanyun suddenly understood. “Ah, that makes sense! Rice flour isn’t sticky like glutinous rice flour. Adding rice flour helps the crust hold its shape, making it less mushy and improving the texture. Plus, it prevents the crust from hardening too quickly! Wheat starch makes the snow skin more translucent and gives it elasticity, so the crust won’t crack. A true master, indeed!”

She was deeply impressed—to think that someone could understand the texture, feel, and final appearance of different flours so well! On top of that, they had even thought of using milk and sugar to balance out the flavor.

Thrilled, she had Eunuch Zheng send over several stacks of mooncake wrappers so she could assemble them herself. Unlike traditional mooncakes, snow skin mooncakes didn’t need to be baked—they just had to be filled, pressed into molds, and chilled. Now that the crust problem was solved, she could make them quickly!

Cheng Wanyun swiftly prepared dozens of flavors:
– Fruit fillings

– Lotus seed paste

– Red bean paste

– Mung bean paste

– Salted egg yolk puree

Once she finished, she carefully packed them into exquisite gift boxes and even tied silk ribbons around them in the shape of butterflies. Then, she placed them in the ice cellar for half an hour. When she took them out, the result looked exactly like the luxurious mooncake gift sets from her past life!

Of course, before packing them up, Cheng Wanyun had already eaten several herself. Her favorite was the mung bean paste flavor—not too sweet, with a soft, grainy texture that became creamy and refreshing after chilling, almost like milk-flavored mung bean ice cream!

Excited, she quickly made more mung bean mooncakes to bring to the Crown Prince and Crown Princess in the main hall.

As for the assorted flavors, she divided them among different people:

– One box for Tang Gege

– One box for E Chu

– Two boxes for the Cheng family (delivered through E Chu)

– One box for Side Concubine Liu at the Fifth Prince’s residence

– One box for Song Gege at the Fourth Prince’s residence

After distributing everything, she was left with only two boxes of mung bean mooncakes and two boxes of assorted flavors. Thinking for a moment, she decided to send the two assorted boxes to:

– Noble Lady Wang at Yongshou Palace

– Harinauhai at the A’ge residence

That left two boxes of mung bean mooncakes. She wondered if the Crown Prince would want to present them to Kangxi or the Empress Dowager.

Now that Yuqing Palace had an official mistress, it no longer felt appropriate for her to personally offer gifts to the elders.

But if she gave them all away, she wouldn’t have any left for herself!

So she dragged Eunuch Zheng to make another batch just for her. While preparing more, she suddenly thought of using matcha powder to color the mooncakes, creating a beautiful green tea flavor.

The aromatic tea-infused crust turned out to be incredibly delicious!

Eunuch Zheng, inspired by the idea, used fruit powder to create pink snow skin, pumpkin for yellow, while keeping the original white and green matcha versions. The four colors were then molded into different shapes—lotus flowers, seashells, mahjong tiles, and classic round forms—creating a visually stunning and elegant display.

Indeed, mooncakes have always been perfect gifts throughout history—beautiful, delicious, and ideal for exquisite packaging.

What a shame they were finished a few days late! If only she had perfected the recipe earlier, she could have presented them as Mid-Autumn Festival gifts without having to rack her brain for alternatives.

Under the cool moonlight, Yinreng arrived to find Cheng Wanyun still busy, looking as excited as a child playing with clay. She was enthusiastically pressing mooncakes into molds, completely absorbed in her work.

Inside the room, their two children were already fast asleep, snuggled up under the blankets, softly snoring as their nanny kept watch over them.

Yinreng had been surprised to receive a box of mooncakes from her so late at night, which was why he had left his study to check if she was still awake. He hadn’t expected to find her so engrossed in mooncake-making that she had completely lost track of time.

“Do you know what time it is?” Yinreng frowned, stepping forward and pulling out his pocket watch to show her. His gaze then swept across the table cluttered with molds, fillings, and dough. “Are you planning to open a pastry shop?”

Cheng Wanyun, unconcerned, simply grinned. “Second Master, have you eaten yet?”

She wouldn’t dare casually offer mooncakes to just anyone, but when it came to the Crown Prince, she didn’t have to be so reserved! Besides, she knew he had been sleeping in the study tonight, so she wasn’t worried about upsetting the Crown Princess.

She looked up at him with a bright smile, her cheeks and nose dusted with flour, resembling an eager puppy wagging its tail. “They’re delicious! I originally wanted to present them to you for Mid-Autumn Festival, but the crust wasn’t turning out right. Thanks to Eunuch Zheng figuring out the perfect ratio today, I just couldn’t wait to make them!”

Yinreng sighed in amusement and used his sleeve to gently wipe the flour off her face. “Of course, it’s delicious. You made it with such care—how could it not be?”

He took a bite of a mooncake and found its texture soft and silky, its pure white appearance as pristine as snow, making it a true delight to the senses. But was it really worth staying up so late just to make them?

“You can make more tomorrow. Come inside and sleep.” The Crown Prince pulled her into the room, his tone firm. “Leave it to the servants. There are so many people in the courtyard—you don’t have to do everything yourself.”

Cheng Wanyun chuckled as Qingxing, her maid, helped her wash her hands and face. But if she didn’t make them herself, where was the fun in it?

Yinreng, however, recognized the true value of her mooncakes at a glance.

“These are indeed quite good. I’ll have the Crown Princess introduce them for you.”

He immediately saw their potential. “Once we reach Rehe, the Crown Princess will host a banquet for the princesses and noble consorts. Your mooncakes would be the perfect finishing touch.”

Cheng Wanyun didn’t react much to the idea of her mooncakes being used at the banquet—after all, the Crown Prince would surely mention that they were her handiwork.

But what she dreaded most was having to attend the banquet herself. Her eyes widened as she quickly asked, “I don’t have to go, do I?”

Yinreng was quite helpless. A Wan, he thought, had this one flaw—she didn’t like participating in social gatherings. She wasn’t fond of mingling with people. How could she go on like this? With a stern face, he said, “No, you still have to go and help with the reception. You can’t shirk your responsibilities.”

Cheng Wanyun’s face immediately fell. She hated social obligations! She had been through enough of that in her past life!

She clung to the Crown Prince’s sleeve, acting coy, and lay in his arms, giving him a kiss. Yinreng, gently holding her, spoke in a soothing voice, promising that if she went, he would set up a little mountain of gold for her in the room. He also mentioned that his treasure vault had many fine things, and he’d take her to choose whatever she liked…

A mountain of gold! Cheng Wanyun was greatly tempted.

“Hmph.” Cheng Wanyun bit his ear, still reluctant but feeling better inside.

When it was time to depart, Cheng Wanyun was shocked by the number of children coming along! There were mischievous children everywhere! The eldest prince’s family had four little girls! The eldest consort hadn’t come, as she had just found out she was pregnant. Instead, Concubine Wu was accompanying them.

The Crown Prince’s family had three children, with an extra guest, Harinauhai, accompanying them. The third and fourth princes each brought a concubine, while the fifth prince brought a young prince. Prince Yuting brought his grandson Guangshan and two granddaughters.

The Crown Prince was headache-stricken from all the children clamoring to ride horses. He crawled into her carriage, leaning on her shoulder, and soon fell into a deep sleep. However, Cheng Wanyun was stunned to discover that he was crying in his sleep! She was shocked, but Yinreng soon woke up, looking at her in a daze.

“Second Master…”

Upon hearing her call, Yinreng almost cried again. Cheng Wanyun was startled. Seeing her panic, he snapped back to reality and wearily leaned back on her shoulder, saying, “It’s probably just a headache. My eyes hurt, but it’s nothing serious.”

Cheng Wanyun hurriedly asked someone to heat up a handkerchief to put on his eyes. He used the cloth to cover his bloodshot eyes. Later, when E Linzhu was shouting outside, Cheng Wanyun’s temples started to throb, and she excused herself from the Crown Prince, quickly getting out of the carriage to find her daughter.

She didn’t notice that behind her, the Crown Prince was sitting alone in the shadow, his head bowed, not moving.

The handkerchief had fallen.

After a long while, he raised his broken eyes, staring intently at Cheng Wanyun’s slender back as tears streamed down his face.

—

On the way to Rehe, Cheng Wanyun felt like she was going to lose her mind from the endless chatter of the mischievous children. E Linzhu was either looking for someone to race horses with or betting on something, her behavior becoming wilder by the minute. But when they finally arrived in Rehe, Cheng Wanyun found herself dragged into an even bigger problem!

The Crown Princess had arranged a banquet to entertain the noble ladies. The concubines sat together, chatting, while Cheng Wanyun, along with Concubine Wu (from the First Prince’s household), Side Concubine Tian (from the Third Prince’s household), and Side Concubine Li (from the Fourth Prince’s household), were in the side hall looking after the children.

As the three women were conversing, they suddenly heard the noise of children arguing and yelling. Cheng Wanyun’s eyelids twitched at the sound. She went over to investigate, and sure enough, she found E Linzhu riding on the Third Princess of the First Prince’s household. The Second Princess of the First Prince’s household was standing to the side, holding her nose and crying. Hongxuan was protecting the still-sniffling Hongxi, glaring angrily at Guangshan and the other two princesses from the First Prince’s family.

The other younger children were huddled in the corner, trembling in fear.