Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel)

The Shanpu Camp has always been the inner guard unit of the Qing court, directly under the personal command of Emperor Kangxi.

In the beginning, Ao Bai held multiple key military and court positions, including Chief of the Imperial Bodyguards. He had control over the entire Forbidden City, and even Emperor Kangxi could not stop Ao Bai from persecuting important figures like the Minister of the Ministry of Household Affairs, Su Nanhai; the Governor-General of Zhili, Zhu Changzuo; the Governor Wang Denglin; and the Regent Minister Su Kexaha. In order to eliminate the increasingly arrogant Ao Bai and his faction, Kangxi recruited six young men to practice “Bukou” (a form of martial arts) with him as a cover, secretly nurturing a powerful force that would belong only to him.

This is the origin of Shanpu Camp. From the beginning to the end, Shanpu Camp only recruited soldiers from the Manchu Eight Banners, and its members were primarily composed of imperial nobility, maternal and paternal relatives, and descendants. It neither belonged to the Manchu, Mongol, or Han Eight Banners nor the local militia. Shanpu Camp operated independently from the Eight Banners and directly answered to the emperor.

Shanpu Camp guards were expected to provide security during royal tours, perform martial arts demonstrations when the emperor entertained Mongol tributary states, and accompany the emperor for horse riding and wrestling practice. Nowadays, however, most of their tasks have devolved into mere performance demonstrations.

Setting aside martial skills, Cheng Huai Jing entry into Shanpu Camp was indeed due to the prince’s personal favoritism.

As one of the newly recruited guards, Cheng was neither a Manchu nor a descendant of the nobility. Behind Geng’e’s back, he was often mocked by the sons of nobles, who even gave him the nickname “Silly Goose.” It wasn’t until he threw down seven men in a wrestling match that they fell silent and stopped assigning him the dirty or tiring tasks.

It was then that Geng’e realized that Cheng was a promising individual. Even without the prince’s direct instructions, he could likely pass the recruitment tests based on his own abilities. Of course, this was all due to the prince’s indirect intervention, providing him an opportunity through clever means. Sitting by the training field, Geng’e thought it was obvious that all these actions were because of Cheng’s favored position with the prince. He had heard rumors that Cheng’s side concubine was deeply favored by the prince, and as a result, the entire Cheng family, which came from humble beginnings, had risen to prominence.

Thus, Geng’e became determined to nurture Cheng. On the 20th of August, when they set out for Rehe, the emperor had decreed that 30 guards from Shanpu Camp would accompany the royal entourage. Geng’e wasn’t particularly troubled by the list of names, and the first one he circled was Cheng Huai Jing. Next came two members of the Shi family, and then he began to scratch his head. With 27 spots left, he felt that no matter who he chose, they would all be mediocre, like silver-plated spearheads—none of them seemed right!

On top of that, Cheng Huai Jing proved himself. He changed from the mischievous boy at home to someone eager to work hard. On the way to Rehe, they encountered two rainstorms, turning the roads into a muddy mess. Many supply carts got stuck, and each of the accompanying guards had to push carts and move rocks, enduring great hardship. While many complained and tried to avoid work, Geng’e saw Cheng Huai Jing tirelessly fixing carts, pushing them back and forth, carrying broken wood and collecting stones. He did twice the amount of work as the others, without any complaints!

The two children from the Shi family were called to the emperor’s side for protection as soon as the journey began. Along the way, Geng’e didn’t see much of them, and naturally, they weren’t busy with the usual tasks. It was said that they were frequently summoned by the emperor and received rewards, indicating that they had a bright future ahead.

When the rain stopped and the carriages halted to rest, Geng’e noticed Cheng Huai Jing sitting quietly by the roadside, removing his boots to pour out the water. His feet were soaked and turned pale, with two blisters already broken.

He said nothing, and Geng’e silently nodded in approval.

Later, when the emperor summoned him to inquire if there were any good men in Shanpu Camp who could be selected to compete with the Mongolian warriors in Bukou, Geng’e immediately recommended Cheng Huai Jing.

Kangxi sat in his carriage, thought for a moment, then nodded, “Call him over to have a look later.”

Geng’e quickly agreed.

It was only when they arrived at Rehe that Cheng Wanyun realized there was a familiar face among the guards.

The prince had told her that Huai Jing had joined Shanpu Camp and had even taken the time to summon him to Yuqing Palace to offer some encouragement. She had also sent Bitao to deliver a message and some clothes and money to him. However, she didn’t expect that he would accompany the royal entourage on a journey so soon after joining.

At that time, Cheng Wanyun happened to be preparing to leave with He Baozhong and his group. When she returned to her palace courtyard to change clothes, she was thinking of taking the opportunity to comfort the children. However, she was surprised to find that E Linzhu, along with Hongxi and Hongxuan, had already forgotten the events at the banquet. They had made plans to ride in a carriage together and promised to work together to help Hongxi put the puzzle back together.

“Well, this is great!” Cheng Wanyun was pleased to have some peace and quiet. As she lifted the curtain and gazed toward the green mountains, she suddenly saw a familiar face among the guards. She immediately focused her attention on it.

Perhaps her gaze was too obvious, as the young man she had been silently staring at turned around.

Cheng Huai Jing rubbed his eyes, and it took him a moment to recognize the woman in royal attire who had appeared at the carriage window. After a long silence, he hesitantly moved his lips and softly called out, “Big sister?”

Cheng Wanyun’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

The young man had grown taller and darker, but when he smiled, he still had that silly look, showing a mouthful of white teeth.

“Huai Jing.” At this emotionally charged moment, she instinctively spoke gently, as the life in the palace seemed to have left an indelible mark on her. “Come closer so I can see you.”

Cheng Huai Jing excitedly ran to the side of the carriage, leaning on the window as he smiled at Cheng Wanyun. “Big sister! Big sister! It’s been so long! I really missed you! I think of you every day!”

If not for so many people watching, he would have crawled through the carriage window to be closer to her!

“I missed you too.” Cheng Wanyun also quietly took his hand, forcing herself not to choke up. She wanted to see her younger brother clearly, so that when she thought of home, she wouldn’t only recall his youthful, innocent face, but would instead replace it with the image of the young and talented man, now dressed in a red-bordered guard’s uniform.

“Are you getting used to life in the palace? You have to change that temper of yours from home, don’t get into fights with others.” Cheng Wanyun gently ruffled his messy hair, which was covered in mud. When she could no longer bear to look at it, she took out a handkerchief and wiped it clean. “The prince told me you joined Shanpu Camp, but with so many people there, I didn’t think you’d be able to come.”

“I know. I didn’t want to embarrass you.” Cheng Huai Jing lowered his head to let Cheng Wanyun wipe his face. “There’s nothing I’m not used to. My old master was much harsher than Lord Geng’e when it came to discipline. I used to get beaten a lot! Oh, and big sister, I saw the emperor today. He had an old man named Wu Dan test my skills. He praised me as a man and said I’d wrestle with the Mongols at the big feast tomorrow. Will you come watch?”

“Of course! How could I not go? I’ll be there to cheer you on!” Cheng Wanyun actually hadn’t planned to attend; she had seen the Mongolian wrestling matches many times before. But since Huai Jing was going, it was different. She felt excited. “You also need to be careful. Competing to be first is good, but don’t get hurt.”

When she thought about how Huai Jing had even received praise from Kangxi, she was somewhat in disbelief. “The emperor really praised you?”

“Yeah, the emperor is very kind,” Cheng Huai Jing said, his face turning red with excitement as it was his first time seeing the emperor. “He encouraged me to keep honing my martial skills and not slack off, telling me to learn well from Lord Geng’e.”

“Then you must remember the emperor’s words and do your duties well,” Cheng Wanyun said, gently patting his face. The silly boy was lucky, and it seemed that Kangxi was in a good mood today.

After chatting for a short while, she didn’t want to keep the prince waiting, so she promised Huai Jing once more that she would come to watch his competition. She then watched him return to the guard team before turning her attention back to the carriage and signaling the driver to start.

Seeing her brother in person made Cheng Wanyun feel both happy and excited, and it filled her with renewed enthusiasm for life, as though she had encountered an old friend in a foreign land. The warmth and joy in her heart were beyond words. She also thought about how Huai Jing would be in the palace every day from now on, and they would have more chances to meet. She wouldn’t have to rely on the prince or E Chu for the Cheng family’s matters anymore; she could simply call Huai Jing over! There were even some personal things she could now share with her family!

When they arrived at the royal estate, she was surprised to find a whole persimmon orchard on the hillside, with fruit hanging from the branches like little lanterns. It looked quite spectacular against the backdrop of the crisp autumn air.

Yinreng had arrived early, originally there to deliver Mongolian tribute horses and cattle. However, he had unknowingly discovered that the persimmons were ripe, and the eunuch in charge of the royal estate had said they were busy picking them, lest the birds get to them first.

The autumn wind in the countryside had a refreshing scent. As soon as Yinreng saw the carriage stop at the royal estate’s entrance, he quickly spurred his horse forward. Cheng Wanyun was just about to step down with Qingxing’s help when Yinreng swiftly dismounted and caught her.

“A Wan, let’s ride together!”

Before Cheng Wanyun could react, he scooped her up and placed her on the back of a tall, sleek black horse. She gasped in surprise, instinctively clutching the horse’s neck. After she regained her composure, she asked, “What about E Linzhu and the others?”

“Don’t worry about them.” Yinreng also mounted his horse, flicked the reins, and laughed. “E Linzhu can ride on her own, and let Hongxi ride with Hongxuan! Were you scared at the banquet? I heard from He Baozhong. Leave those matters to the princess consort. Right now, I’m taking you out for a little break! You must have been bored staying in the palace these days. Today, don’t worry about the children. E Chu and He Baozhong are watching them! Let’s go!”

The horse galloped fast, and the wind rushed so fiercely that Cheng Wanyun’s hairpin was blown backward. Yinreng held her tightly from behind, his chest against her back and his strong arms providing her warmth. Soon, the initial nervousness wore off, and she began to enjoy the thrilling ride across the vast grasslands.

What a thrill!

It had been a long time since she had experienced this kind of joy. When she first came to Mulan, she couldn’t join in the rides due to her pregnancy, and later, with the children to care for, she couldn’t ride horses. Now, with the prince controlling the horse behind her, she didn’t have to worry about falling off. She felt as light as a leaf floating in the vast world.

The wind howled as Cheng Wanyun closed her eyes, letting herself be swept away by the ride.

The wind and sunlight in the northern frontier were truly refreshing.

“Second Master, look!”

The horse ran into the persimmon orchard, startling the birds that were stealing the fruit from the treetops. The birds fluttered in panic, flying up into the air. A squirrel, still holding half a persimmon, quickly scurried down the tree and ran across the ground covered in fallen leaves, escaping.

Yinreng pulled on the reins, gently patting her head with his hand. Seizing the opportunity, as they were in an open and deserted area, he whispered in her ear, “A Wan, you’ve been with the children all day. It must be a bit overwhelming, right? Once the Changchun Garden is repaired, we can go there for the summer next year. We’ll have more space, and we’ll be more relaxed.”

Cheng Wanyun turned her head to look at the Crown Prince, her gaze fixed on his warm and gentle face just inches away. Suddenly, a thousand words caught in her throat: “Second Master…”

How did he know? How could he tell? She had been hiding her feelings so well. She had never told anyone, and she didn’t dislike the children. But on many quiet nights, she couldn’t sleep.

It felt like she was always with the children, both awake and asleep, with no time for herself. When she sat in the courtyard trying to make something to eat, she would often be interrupted by E Linzhu or Hongxi. Sometimes, they weren’t being mischievous; it was just their nature as children—they always wanted to be with their mother. But it made it difficult for her to focus on anything. She loved E Linzhu and Hongxi dearly, but life confined within the palace walls made her feel like her emotions were constantly amplified in that little square world.

In fact, E Linzhu and Hongxi had always lived next door to her, not because there wasn’t enough room in the courtyard, but because she didn’t want to get pregnant again at this time. She didn’t want the princess consort to feel displeased with her, and she certainly didn’t want to go through raising another child again.

Finally, Hongxi could run and jump on his own now, so she didn’t have to keep an eye on him all the time. Even though there were plenty of servants around, she couldn’t just leave the children to them. If she had to go through it all again, she would feel completely overwhelmed.

Perhaps… they could wait until the children were a bit older.

But she couldn’t dare express this. Such thoughts were considered so rebellious in the Qing court! Everyone around her assumed she was unhappy because the princess consort entered the palace. But only the Crown Prince truly saw through her.

And he was tolerant of her, even comforting her.

The Crown Prince was, after all, a man raised under the strict Confucian system. He didn’t criticize her for being sentimental, nor did he use phrases like “wife and children” to judge her. Instead, he was thoughtful of her feelings and sensitive to her thoughts. Cheng Wanyun’s tears suddenly couldn’t be stopped. She lowered her head, trying to hide her face, as this was the first time in all the years in the palace that she had cried in front of the Crown Prince, and it was for this… unspeakable reason.

How embarrassing.

On the vast grassland, the eunuchs and guards had urged their horses from all directions to catch up, but the Crown Prince ordered them to stop and return to guard the eldest princess and second prince, forbidding them from coming any closer.

The Crown Prince held her in his arms with one hand and rode slowly with her into the depths of the persimmon orchard, allowing her to release all her pent-up frustration and sadness in the vastness of the grassland.

“I’ll take you out every year, not just to Rehe or Changchun Garden. We’ll travel like the Emperor does, going on southern and western tours. I’ll take you, but not E Linzhu or Hongxi. I’ll leave them in the palace so they can all envy you,” Yinreng said as he lifted her off the horse, crouching down to gently wipe her tears and rub her red nose. “We’ll go to Nanjing, Suzhou, Hangzhou, or even back to your hometown in Huizhou to live for a while. How does that sound?”

“Wow—” Cheng Wanyun cried even louder.

How could the Crown Prince leave Beijing now? He was talking about what he would do after ascending the throne! He spoke so gently about the future, dreaming of what was to come, but there was no future for him. He couldn’t go to Nanjing, Suzhou, or Hangzhou, and he couldn’t go back to her hometown either.

His entire life would be spent trapped in the Forbidden City.

Cheng Wanyun felt heartbroken for him. Without realizing it, she threw herself into his arms, crying bitterly. Whether it was the southern tours or military expeditions, the Emperor always kept him in the capital. The other princes could leave the city, but as the Crown Prince, he was truly never able to visit those places…

Yinreng was stunned. Was he really that bad at comforting her? Why was she crying even harder now?

Cheng Wanyun wiped her tears on his coat. By the time she had vented her feelings, the Crown Prince’s expensive riding attire was soaked through, wrinkled beyond recognition.

“What should we do? It’s all wet now,” Cheng Wanyun sniffed, tugging at his clothes in an attempt to straighten them, still sobbing. “I’m so… so embarrassing.”

“It’s nothing,” Yinreng caught her hand, his eyes as clear and gentle as a mountain stream. “It’s good that you could release all the frustration inside. What’s a piece of clothing worth?” He then tucked her stray hair behind her ear.

The breeze was gentle, and she pushed the sourness down in her heart. She smiled at the Crown Prince. “Thank you, I feel much better now.”

“We’ll stay here for a while before heading back.” Laughter and chatter from E Linzhu and Hongxi could be heard nearby. They were already out with He Baozhong, E Chu, and the others, carrying little baskets and picking persimmons.

Yinreng decided to take off his outer robe and lay it on the ground, lying beside Cheng Wanyun as they looked up at the sky through the dense branches, admiring the vast blue sky that appeared broken into countless pieces.

Above them, the clouds drifted lazily by, and the birds’ wings flitted in the air.

“Second Master…” Cheng Wanyun had been holding her question in for a long time. Unable to contain it any longer, she leaned close to his ear, summoning the courage to ask timidly, “I hope you won’t be upset, but how… how did you know I wasn’t just troubled by the Princess Consort?”

This question was out of place for her. As the Princess Consort entered the palace, she should have welcomed her with joy. How could she harbor any resentment? If others heard her, she would surely face criticism.

Moreover, the Princess Consort was a righteous person, just as she had suspected, carrying out her duties much like her old boss who had devoted his life to the organization—protective, strict, always putting the greater good and public affairs first, with personal interests pushed aside.

How could she feel resentment? So, apart from respect and gratitude toward the Princess Consort, there was a hidden sense of fear. This feeling was something she couldn’t express, nor could she voice it. No matter how virtuous the Princess Consort was, the difference in their status and position inevitably caused these reactions. When she was alone, it was just her and her misfortune. But now, with two children, if she fell from grace, what would happen to E Linzhu and Hongxi? For the first time, she realized that she was also someone’s support.

So she performed her duties sincerely and never dared to slack off, which is why she felt at ease when Huai Jing entered the palace. Because, besides the Crown Prince, she now had another support.

But at this moment, it was just her and the Crown Prince, just the autumn sky and the peaceful forest, just the wind that heard her confusion and shared this secret with her.

Yinreng was initially surprised that she asked such a question, essentially bringing up the inevitable conflicts between wives and concubines in the back courtyard. But he was confident that Cheng Wanyun wouldn’t do that. First, because he knew her character well, and second… there was a tinge of regret and clarity deep inside him. Yinreng looked at her for a long time and then smiled softly, almost gently: “Because I know, you don’t love me yet, Wanyun.”

Cheng Wanyun froze.

Yinreng’s eyes held no reproach. His clear and deep gaze was as pure as the vast sky above, making Cheng Wanyun feel a little too shy to look at him. She unconsciously shivered.

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid,” Yinreng quickly pulled her into his arms and sighed. “You see me as your master, as your head of household, and I understand… you’re already doing well. I just never told you… I love you.”

She was stunned.

It was like a tightly closed clam being pried open by an unexpected heartfelt confession, like the first rays of sunlight reaching into the deep sea, like a lost bird, after much wandering, finally finding a branch to rest upon.

Cheng Wanyun stared at him blankly.

“You’re afraid to open your heart to me, and I understand. I don’t blame you for that at all. In fact, I even feel grateful for your sense of duty and stability. But I think I’ve probably loved you for a long time—regardless of your background, regardless of your appearance, and regardless of…” He paused, his voice softening. “…and regardless of the fate we shared in that dream.”

No matter the future, no matter the storms.

He simply loved her.

How wonderful it would have been if he had come from an ordinary family. Then, he could have stayed with Wanyun, lived a simple life, and been content with that for the rest of his life. Now, he couldn’t give Wanyun everything, and he had to drag her into this struggle within the palace walls. How could he expect her to give her heart to him?

Yinreng had never clearly understood his own feelings until that moment in the carriage on the way to Rehe, when he briefly dozed off next to Wanyun.

Once again, he fell deeply into the web of dreams.

Then, he had a dream—a dream so painful that even the smallest details or words would pierce his heart. It was as if his chest had been torn open, and with each breath, each heartbeat, it pulled at the bleeding wound.

He slept only for a short time, but the dream seemed to last forever.

He didn’t love her because of the dream. It was only now that he understood: the dream came because of his love. These dreams were from the Wanxun who, on the brink of despair, had loved him because she had nowhere else to turn.

It was September of the 47th year of Kangxi’s reign.

Once again, the annual Mulan autumn hunting ended, and the imperial convoy was returning to the capital from the northern frontier.

On the second day of the month, Kangxi urgently ordered the imperial guards and issued an edict to depose Crown Prince Yinreng. At the same time, he commanded that the deposed Crown Prince be escorted back to the capital immediately. However, during the journey, the deposed Crown Prince fell seriously ill, and the route was changed to temporarily detain him at the Buerhasu Tai Imperial Palace.

On the fourth day, Kangxi issued an order to investigate the allies of the deposed Crown Prince. The palace maids of Yuqing Palace reported that the deposed Crown Prince’s inner servant He Baozhong and side concubine Cheng had made many rebellious and treasonous remarks. The reports were submitted, and Kangxi was enraged. He ordered the execution of He Baozhong and stripped Cheng of her title as side concubine, transferring her to the Office of Imperial Clan Affairs for interrogation and confinement.

On the fifth day, Kangxi rejected the pleas of Fourth Prince Yinzhen and Thirteenth Prince Yinxiang to pardon and release the deposed Crown Prince, instead sending medical supplies to the Buerhasu Tai Imperial Palace.

On the sixth day, the first snow of the deep autumn fell at the remote palace. For several days, it had been Consort Shi who tended to the deposed Crown Prince’s medicine. In his dreams, he lay by the bed, coughing incessantly, and weakly asked, “Where is the side concubine?”

Consort Shi hesitated, unsure how to answer.

The deposed Crown Prince pressed her repeatedly.

Finally, Consort Shi had no choice but to kneel and weep, confessing the truth.

On those days when the snow turned to ice, Yinreng gazed at himself years later. After hearing Consort Shi’s words, he did not hesitate for long. Determined, he dragged his sick body, disregarding the palace guards and sword-wielding attendants who tried to stop him. He fought desperately, snatching a broken arrow from one of the guards’ quivers, and with the cold, sharp point aimed at his throat, he faced down hundreds of guards. Braving the countless dangers and the biting winds, he staggered into the courtyard, wearing only a thin robe.

He was surrounded by the imperial guards, and Yinzhong, who had been ordered to guard him, rushed toward him anxiously.

“Second Brother! Are you mad?”

The wind and snow buffeted his frail body, and blood trickled down his neck, staining half of his collar. He even smiled faintly and said, “Third Brother, tell Father that I am willing to confess, willing to face execution. Please release Side Concubine Cheng. She is a woman, what sin could she have committed to deserve such punishment?”

He thought that his second brother’s illness was due to being confined in the palace, unable to move freely, but he never expected it to be for this reason… Yinzhong stood there, stunned, unable to speak, like a wooden post with his mouth open.

Suddenly, a solemn voice came from behind Yinreng.

“If you have something to say, speak directly to me. There is no need to send someone to relay it.”

At some point, Kangxi, accompanied by the Commander of the Nine Gates, Longkodo, First Prince Yinzhi, and Eighth Prince Yinti, had arrived.

In the vast snowstorm, Kangxi’s face was ashen, and he said coldly, “You rebellious son! You are still speaking nonsense, acting like a madman! Liang Jiugong! Take the Crown Prince back. From now on, keep him under strict watch. Since he hasn’t recovered from his madness, do not allow him to step outside again!”