13 Xingde

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As the days grew cooler and autumn deepened, Aunt Chen and the others had already begun preparing autumn and winter jackets for Yulan, while her summer thin shirts had mostly been put away. For the past two or three months, Yulan had obediently followed the routine between the Palace of Longevity and the Southern Study Hall. The books taught by the Fifth Princess had gradually shifted from the "Elementary Learning Anthology" to the more worldly "Expanded Words of Wisdom."

From Yulan's own perspective, the "Expanded Words of Wisdom" was far more profound than the "Elementary Learning Anthology." It spoke more about the darker side of the world, which might be too advanced for a typical four-year-old child, but for Yulan, who possessed a mature soul, it was quite acceptable.

"The sewing room has brought the princess’s riding outfit," Yu Tao said, carrying a pale yellow riding garment into the room. She lifted it up, comparing it against Yulan’s figure for a moment. "Su Gonggong sent word that Master has decided the princess will not attend lessons at the Palace of Longevity today. There are a few new foals from the Ujimqin Grassland this year, and he wants you to go select one first."

In early August, Emperor Kangxi had toured the frontier. Yulan’s father had gone with him for over a month. When he returned, his face was not only dark but he also secluded himself in his room for a long time. Without saying a word, he immediately sent someone to the sewing room to make many riding outfits for Yulan.

Madam Li found it strange and had Mistress Xie run to the eunuchs and palace maids who had accompanied the trip to inquire. Only then did she learn why the Fourth Prince had suddenly ordered riding outfits for his four-year-old daughter.

In the thirty-first year of Kangxi’s reign, Princess Duanjing, who had married into the Kalachin Mongol clan as the second daughter-in-law of Prince Duling, was abused by her consort to the point of nearly taking her own life. If Kangxi had not been on his frontier tour and not heard a rare complaint from his daughter, perhaps no one would have known until the princess died.

That consort, facing Kangxi’s fury, shamelessly claimed that the princess had an illicit relationship with a guard and that he could not tolerate it, thus beating her to uphold his authority. Kangxi, enraged, summoned Princess Duanjing for a confrontation. The princess, trembling, hid behind her maidservant, bruised all over with shades of blue and purple, and dared not accuse the consort. Kangxi was furious yet helpless.

Yinzhen, who had accompanied the tour, felt that the way princesses were raised in the palace was overly influenced by Han customs. The maids raised the princesses according to the popular trends in the capital—quiet and obedient was good, but he feared a repeat of Princess Duanjing’s fate, where even the arrival of a father could not prompt complaints.

He thought of his own daughter being raised delicately and vulnerably, and his blood boiled. Upon returning to the Southern Study Hall, he summoned all the palace staff around Yulan and gave them a thorough scolding, afraid she would suffer the same fate as Princess Duanjing.

Yinzhen thought and thought, feeling that scolding servants was only a small measure; ultimately, his daughter needed to stand on her own. Without hesitation, he petitioned Kangxi for a group of new Mongolian horses from the Ujimqin Grassland to teach his daughter horseback riding and archery.

If she were ever bullied and could not argue her case, at least she could fight back.

The brothers practiced horseback riding and archery in the front courtyard of the Southern Study Hall, but Yinzhen found it too cramped and crowded there. Instead, he took Yulan to a spacious open ground outside Jingyun Gate in the eastern Forbidden City, south of Fengxian Hall, to practice.

The foals sent from the Ujimqin Grassland were only about two heads taller than Yulan. At a glance, they all looked alike to her, making it difficult to choose.

“We Manchus rule the world from horseback; choosing a horse is essential,” Yinzhen said patiently, holding Yulan’s chubby hand as they walked past each foal. “First, observe if the foal’s head is appropriately sized, whether the neck is slender and long… the back and waist broad and straight, muscles strong, and limbs sturdy and powerful…”

Yulan stopped in front of one foal, unable to move.

It looked smaller than the others, but its gait was steady and graceful, its figure well-proportioned. Its bay coat was mixed with many red hairs, resembling a blazing fire.

“Erlin Zhu, do you like this one?” Yinzhen pondered. “It looks good, just a bit short.”

Yulan stepped forward. The little eunuch holding the reins tightened his grip, fearing the foal might bolt suddenly and harm the precious young mistress.

But the horse was very docile. Seeing such a small child, it lowered its head. Yulan, staring into its dark eyes, could discern a gentleness there.

“Father!” Yulan tugged Yinzhen’s sleeve. “This one is destined for me. I want it.”

Yinzhen carefully examined the horse, and finally, seeing the pleading sparkle in his daughter’s eyes, he relented. “Since you’ve chosen it, Erlin Zhu, how about giving it a nice name?”

“Let’s call it Red Steed,” Yulan smiled brightly.

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Yinzhen was momentarily stunned, then chuckled softly. “The Eight Horses of King Mu? Our Erlin Zhu is quite bold, isn’t she?”

Yulan held her head high like a proud little peacock. Seeing such a lively and daring daughter, the frustration Yinzhen had felt from the tour to the frontier was half gone.

He patted her head. “Then it shall be so. Tomorrow, I’ll have the horse brought to your courtyard. You must take good care of it.”

Although it was said Yulan would take care of the horse, Yinzhen would surely assign staff to tend to it.

Yulan tentatively ran her hand over Red Steed’s coat. Would she also have a day when she could gallop freely on horseback?

After choosing the horse, Yinzhen had planned to mount and let Yulan experience riding, but Kangxi suddenly sent word that he was needed elsewhere. Yinzhen had to postpone the horseback ride for a few days.

Yulan was not as disappointed as he expected. She knew her father was a man of his word. Postponing the ride a few days did not mean it would never happen.

After returning to the Southern Study Hall, Yulan’s first move was to find Madam Li, but to her surprise, the courtyard was empty.

“Where is Empress Dowager?” she asked.

Inside, Ma Nao was instructing the maids to put away the summer clothes. Seeing Yulan enter, she smiled and replied, “Today, the Empress Dowager’s family came. The young master took the Second Prince to the main courtyard to accompany the ladies.”

Although the Fourth Prince’s children each had different mothers, outsiders saw them all as children of the Empress Dowager. Since her family had come, Yulan should have gone to pay respects. But since Yinzhen had taken her out early that morning, the Empress Dowager had not sent anyone to summon her.

As the saying goes, “No one visits the Three Treasures Hall without reason.” Generally, since the Empress Dowager had not yet left the palace to establish her own residence, her family would seldom enter the palace. Why would they come suddenly today?

Curious, Yulan changed into visitor-appropriate clothes at Madam Li’s and hurried toward the Empress Dowager’s main courtyard.

On the left of the Empress Dowager’s lower seat sat Madam Li; on the right were two women Yulan had never seen before. One held a frail boy who looked about Yulan’s age.

The boy quietly played with a nine-ring puzzle, his skin pale and his features delicate. If he wore a hat, one might mistake him for a girl.

“Erlin Zhu has arrived,” the Empress Dowager beckoned to her. After Yulan bowed, she drew her into an embrace and smiled at the two women below, “This is our Second Princess.”

“That is your second aunt; that is your third aunt.”

The Empress Dowager hesitated when pointing to the boy in the second aunt’s arms, but the second aunt smiled and explained, “Our Xingde was born in the thirty-fourth year, second month.”

“That means he is your cousin,” the Empress Dowager said happily.

Yulan smiled warmly. “Greetings, Second Aunt, Third Aunt, Cousin.”

The boy in the second aunt’s arms set aside the nine-ring puzzle and shyly whispered, “Cousin.”

“Our grown-ups’ talk is probably boring to children. Dongqing, take your brother and the princess to the warm pavilion in the back. Xingde will come too,” the Empress Dowager instructed. “Bring out the tangram, jade ring puzzles, and the other toys; don’t be shy.”

Those last words were clearly meant for the little boy. He obediently took the nanny’s hand and followed Yulan into the warm pavilion, never sneaking a glance around. The nanny placed him on the bed with the tangram, and he quietly began to play.

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Honghui and Hongwei were close in age, just beginning to speak and filled with curiosity about the world. They crawled all over the room, putting everything they saw into their mouths. Hongwei called “Sister! Sister!” and Honghui echoed him, making it feel as if a hundred ducks were quacking beside Yulan’s ears.

Unable to bear the noise, Yulan kicked off her shoes and crawled beside Xingde. He sat higher up, and since Honghui and Hongwei hadn’t yet learned to climb onto the bed, they could only hold the bedpost and wail.

“What is your name?” Yulan asked the boy, bored. “How do you write it?”

“I’m Xingde.”

The boy put down the tangram and wrote carefully on Yulan’s open palm: “The star of the heavens, the virtue of conduct.”

Yulan found the name familiar but couldn’t recall where she had seen it. She frowned, thinking hard. Could this delicate-looking boy become an important official in the future? But she had never heard of such a person among the descendants of the Empress Dowager.

As evening approached, Honghui and Hongwei tired from play. Their nanny quietly laid them down and covered them with blankets, leaving only Yulan and Xingde facing each other.

Lowering her voice, Yulan asked, “It’s so late—aren’t you going home?”

Though autumn and winter nights fell early, it should soon be the time when the palace gates were locked. Shouldn’t this boy return to his mother?

“No,” Xingde blinked. “Auntie said I should stay here and be the Empress Dowager’s child.”

Yulan understood each word but was confused by the meaning of the whole sentence.

What did it mean to “stay here as the Empress Dowager’s child”? The Empress Dowager already had Honghui. Yulan was baffled until Aunt Chen carried her back to Madam Li’s courtyard, where her confusion was cleared by the adults’ conversation.

“So, this means the Empress Dowager’s nephew will reside in the palace permanently?”

The maids were removing hairpins from Madam Li’s hair. Curious, she asked Mistress Xie, “This must be borrowing a life, right? The Ulanara clan is actually willing to send this child here?”

They could not openly say it was borrowing a life due to superstitions, but Madam Li was certainly more curious about the true reasons behind the official explanation. It was her first time hearing about the concept of “borrowing a life.”

Unfortunately, her own family was of bondservant status and could not formally bring related children close to the palace. Otherwise, it might have been beneficial to borrow life for that little Hongwei.

“Why not?” Mistress Xie munched on melon seeds. “That child is the son of the Empress Dowager’s eldest brother, Fu Chan. His mother died giving birth to him. Though the eldest brother never remarried, he’s always been peculiar about this son, probably thinking the child caused his mother’s death. Today’s two ladies are the wives of the Empress Dowager’s second and third brothers. They don’t care much for the child, who is just one more mouth to feed at home. If sending him here can prolong the young master’s life, then it’s a blessing for the child.”

Madam Li was touched. “The child is pitiful.”

Yulan felt the same. Xingde was unloved by both father and mother and sent here to extend his cousin’s life.

Judging by how quietly and delicately the nanny raised him, he was a meek little soul—truly a tragic fate.