Late spring, the nineteenth year of the Kangxi Emperor's reign. The Imperial Garden.
Six-year-old Yinreng crushed a piece of pastry between his fingers, his face an impassive mask as he watched a line of ants carry away the crumbs. Beneath his calm exterior, his mind was rapidly processing a new, staggering reality. Following a severe fever, he had awakened with the complete memories of Ren Jiashi, a man from the 21st century.
He was a transmigrator, and he had to accept two immediate facts to ensure his survival.
First, he now inhabited the body of the Qing Dynasty's Crown Prince.
Second, his transmigration came with an anomaly. Upon waking, a mechanical voice had activated in his mind—a "System." Aware that such entities could be unpredictable or demanding, Yinreng had immediately shut it out. By focusing his willpower, he constructed a mental barrier that muted the System's incessant chatter. He needed a clear head to analyze his political environment, not a digital distraction.
"Your Highness, the wind is picking up," said Aunt Lan, his head palace maid. She turned to a younger maid. "Xia Cao, fetch a padded jacket."
Yinreng pulled his cloak tighter. "Unnecessary. It is already the third lunar month. The cloak is sufficient."
Aunt Lan offered a gentle, placating smile. "Spring winds are deceptive, Your Highness. You are just recovering from a terrible illness. We cannot be careless. If you fall ill again, His Majesty will be sick with worry."
She gestured for Xia Cao to leave. Yinreng frowned slightly, analyzing her words, but chose to stay silent. He brushed the remaining crumbs from his hands and stood. "I am finished here. Let us return."
Aunt Lan followed closely. "Is Your Highness displeased? Is it because His Majesty did not come to accompany you for the midday meal?"
Yinreng stopped and looked up at her.
"Since your illness began," Aunt Lan continued cautiously, "His Majesty has been by your side daily, even moving his memorials to your Yuqing Palace to work. He only returned to his own quarters when your condition stabilized, yet he still joined you for every meal. Until today."
"I am fully recovered," Yinreng stated firmly. "Imperial Father manages the vast affairs of the state. It is logical that he is occupied."
Aunt Lan knelt, adjusting Yinreng's cloak. "You are sensible, Your Highness. If His Majesty were truly delayed by state affairs, it would be understandable. But..." She lowered her voice to a whisper, her hesitation deliberate. "Are you tired? Allow me to carry you."
Though fully capable of walking, Yinreng did not refuse. He needed to observe. Aunt Lan lifted him smoothly. Before they had traveled far, the sound of hushed voices drifted from behind a nearby rockery. Two palace maids were gossiping.
"Concubine De is remarkably bold," one whispered. "Intercepting the Emperor is common, but intercepting him when he is bound for the Crown Prince's palace? Unheard of. Her maid called His Majesty away halfway to Yuqing Palace today."
"She relies on the Emperor's favor," the second maid replied. "Consider the Sixth Prince's name, and the grand banquet His Majesty threw for his third-day washing ceremony."
Listening, Yinreng's mind pieced together the recent timeline. Last year had been disastrous—a massive earthquake near the capital, followed by a fire in the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The empire was tense. Last month, torrential rains threatened floods, but the skies suddenly cleared the exact day Concubine De gave birth to the Sixth Prince. Relieved, the Emperor named the boy 'Yinzuo'.
The character 'Zuo' meant blessing, but in a royal context, it also meant the throne or the mandate of heaven. It was a politically explosive name.
The coincidence of the weather and the name had birthed a dangerous narrative within the palace: the Sixth Prince was a heaven-sent lucky star. By contrast, Yinreng—whose mother died giving birth to him, and who fell critically ill just days after the Sixth Prince's birth—was being painted as a cursed omen. It was these exact rumors that had caused the original six-year-old Yinreng to run out into the wind in a fit of childhood jealousy, resulting in the fever that brought the modern Ren Jiashi's soul into the body.
The maids behind the rockery continued.
"Think about the timing. The Sixth Prince is born, and the Crown Prince immediately falls deathly ill. And why did Concubine De call the Emperor away today? Because the Sixth Prince now has a fever. They say their fates clash. If one rises, the other falls..."
"Silence!" Aunt Lan stepped around the rockery, her voice cracking like a whip. "Which palace do you serve? How dare you discuss the masters' fates!"
The two maids collapsed to their knees in terror, trembling and kowtowing violently against the stone path.
Aunt Lan opened her mouth to reprimand them further, but Yinreng cut in, his voice flat and devoid of childhood innocence. "Summon the guards. Send them to the Shenxing Department."
The maids turned ashen. Yinreng did not spare them a second glance. The imperial palace operated on strict hierarchies; speaking treasonous rumors carried consequences. Punishing them swiftly was the only logical move to assert his authority and suppress the narrative.
Aunt Lan momentarily froze at his cold decisiveness before bowing her head. "Yes, Your Highness."
Once the guards dragged the weeping maids away, Yinreng turned to his caretaker. "The Sixth Brother is ill?"
Aunt Lan nodded grimly. "Yes. I sent someone to inquire earlier. Concubine De's maid reported that the Sixth Prince is running a high fever. That is why His Majesty is currently at Yonghe Palace." She knelt before him. "Your Highness, you are young, but you must understand. The Emperor treats the Sixth Prince differently. You must be prepared."
Yinreng processed the variables. A sick newborn, an anxious Emperor, and a mother who knew how to leverage both. He turned and broke into a run.
"Your Highness!" Aunt Lan called out, startled. "Where are you going? That is not the way to Yuqing Palace!"
Yinreng did not stop. He was heading straight for Yonghe Palace.
***
Meanwhile, inside Yonghe Palace.
Concubine De of the Uya clan knelt before the Emperor, tears streaming down her face. "Your Majesty, I do not know where these rumors originated! I am terrified. I only wish for my son to grow up healthy and safe. I swear upon the heavens I had no hand in spreading the talk of 'lucky stars'."
Kangxi looked down at her. He believed her. Concubine De was cautious and intelligent; she knew that framing a newborn as a divine prodigy was equivalent to roasting him on a fire of political jealousy.
"And regarding the Crown Prince..." Concubine De lowered her head until it touched the floor. "I do not understand the mechanics of fate. But if my little Sixth is truly the cause of the Crown Prince's suffering... I beg Your Majesty to send my son away to be raised outside the palace."
Kangxi's brow furrowed. "These are baseless rumors. Why would you suggest such a drastic measure?"
"He was born weak," she replied softly. "Yesterday, Consort Rong visited and spoke of the princes who passed away in their infancy. I lay awake all night. For his own survival, and to protect the Crown Prince, it is better if he goes to live with a minister's family for a few years, just as the First Prince did."
The words struck a calculated nerve. Kangxi had lost several sons to early childhood illnesses. To ensure the survival of his eldest surviving son, Yinshi, he had fostered him outside the palace until the age of six. While Kangxi did not truly believe the rumors of clashing fates, his fear of losing another child—especially after Yinreng's recent brush with death—was very real. Concubine De was offering a solution that painted her as a self-sacrificing mother while securing her son's safety from palace plotting.
Kangxi looked at the sleeping infant in the cradle. "Are you truly willing to part with him?"
"I cannot bear it," Concubine De smiled bitterly. "But I will do anything to keep him alive. I am already grateful for the time I have had."
A wave of pity washed over the Emperor. He reached out to help her up, prepared to offer words of comfort.
Before he could speak, Head Eunuch Liang Jiugong's voice echoed from the doorway.
"Reporting to His Majesty: The Crown Prince requests an audience."