I'm Afraid She Might Go Stray

The night deepened as Da Yuer carried Azhe back to her palace chamber. Not long after, Huang Taiji arrived.

Palace attendants, holding over a dozen lanterns, escorted the Great Khan through the Fenghuang Tower and toward the room that had remained vacant for months.

Light spilled from the windows, illuminating the surroundings as if it were daytime, and even faint shadows of moving figures could be seen within. Da Yuer couldn't tell if those shadows were real or just a figment of her imagination.

"Miss, please rest. Don't overthink it," said Sumala, who understood her mistress better than anyone else. She gently persuaded, "You haven't slept well for days. Is it worth it, for a woman like that?"

Da Yuer stared blankly and murmured, "He knows full well that Nam Jung isn't a good woman. Why would he stay with her?"

Sumala chuckled and replied, "Weren't you the one who explained it to me? Only by doing so does the Imperial Seal appear truly precious. And no matter how bad Nam Jung is, her status is noble. She may not be a good person, but her fate isn't all that terrible."

"Yes, I understand everything," Da Yuer said, gently patting little Azhe in her arms. "It's better for you sisters to remain a little oblivious. Seeing things too clearly only brings bitterness. At least I still have your father, but who knows if your future husbands will be good men."

Sumala took the sleeping little princess into her arms and smiled, "The Great Khan will surely choose the best men in the world as his sons-in-law. That's something you don't need to worry about."

But Da Yuer knew deep down that her daughters would eventually become gifts of the Jin dynasty, married off to solidify alliances. Her aunt's two eldest daughters were already promised in marriage at such a young age. Though they weren't Da Yuer's children and it wasn't her place to comment, could her aunt truly be indifferent? Was she not heartbroken, despite appearances?

"Sumala, I said something harsh to my sister earlier," Da Yuer admitted. "I didn't mean it, and I hope she doesn't dwell on it. If she's hurt, it's my fault. This mouth of mine really causes trouble."

"What did you say?" Sumala didn't understand, but knowing the older Princess's nature, she dismissed it lightly. "If you feel so bad, go explain to her tomorrow. Like I always say, what can't be said between sisters? Besides, even if you poked a hole in the sky, your sister wouldn't blame you. She'd quietly take out her needle and thread to mend it. The elder princess may seem delicate, but she understands everything deep down. If you ask me, I think she's very strong."

Pouting, Da Yuer asked, "Is my sister better than me?"

Sumala laughed, "How can you compare? If I must say, of course you're the better one."

"You're just good at flattering me," Da Yuer teased, tapping her on the head. Together, they laid the sleeping child on the kang bed. Measuring the child's height with her hand, Da Yuer remarked, "Azhe is taller than her sisters were at her age."

Sumala asked, "You still remember the princesses' height when they were little?"

"Of course I do," Da Yuer said, feigning irritation. "I even remember what you were like as a child."

Sumala chuckled, reminiscing, "When we were little, you'd drag me into the mud pits to play. The adults caught us, and my father wanted to whip me with a horsewhip. You ran up to shield me and said, 'If you're going to hit Sumala, you have to hit me first.'"

"And my mother really did hit me," Da Yuer said with mock anger. "I didn't save you, and I ended up bedridden for days myself."

Lying down, she thought of her mother and felt a dull ache in her heart. "Mother used to wonder aloud who would ever marry me. She probably never imagined I'd be sent to Shengjing."

"If the Consort in Heaven has a spirit, she must be at ease, knowing her daughter married a man she loves," Sumala said, trying to steer Da Yuer away from the sorrow of losing her mother. She was well aware of her mistress's deep affection for the Great Khan.

Da Yuer felt deeply grateful for Sumala's years of companionship. Only Sumala had always warmed her heart. Smiling, she said, "And you? If one day you find someone you like, you must tell me. I'll make sure you have a grand wedding."

But Sumala responded calmly, "I'll never have a man I love. This life, I'll stay by your side. When the Consort passed, I promised her I'd take care of you for the rest of my life. A promise is a promise—I can't go back on my word."

"That's not breaking your promise," Da Yuer replied. "Sumala, I also want you to be happy."

"Then, how about letting me sleep here with you tonight?" Sumala joked with a cheeky grin.

"Get up here already! Finally, you've come around to keeping me company at night?" Da Yuer pulled Sumala onto the bed, and they huddled close together, their warm and soft bodies leaning against each other. The moment brought back memories of whispering late into the night with her sister on this very bed.

"Tomorrow, I'll go apologize to my sister," Da Yuer said firmly. "I shouldn't have said those things in front of her. Even if I didn't mean any harm, hurtful words are still hurtful."

But Hairanju truly didn't take it to heart. She understood that Da Yuer had been referring to Nam Jung. Yet, even as composed as she often appeared, Hairanju wasn't as indifferent as she imagined herself to be.

Since entering the palace, whether Hong Taiji spent time with her younger sister, the other concubines, or even Consort Doutumen, her heart had remained unshaken. But Nam Jung—that was different.

Was she frightened by Da Yuer's warning, worried that Nam Jung might harm Hong Taiji? Or was it because, for the first time, she felt threatened by the presence of a beautiful woman?

The lights in the room opposite hers finally went out, dimming her own chambers along with it. She turned over, facing away from the doorway. She didn't want to feel this way.

Inside this room, Hong Taiji was hers alone. Beyond this threshold, her pain and unease reflected only her care for him. At last, she understood why Da Yuer had said that not forgiving someone at least showed that you still cared.

No one knew what happened between Hong Taiji and Nam Jung that night. But in the days that followed, he stayed at Nam Jung's quarters, drawing the palace's attention. On the surface, the new side consort appeared to be basking in favour, but the peculiar manner of this intimacy had already become the talk of the palace and beyond.

When Qiqige attended a private gathering at Dodo's residence to celebrate the birthday of his side consort, the conversation quickly turned to palace gossip. The women chattered animatedly, sharing scandalous tidbits about Nam Jung. "Every night," one said, "she's stripped bare and wrapped tightly in a blanket, waiting for Hong Taiji's favour."

Another added dramatically, "It's said that in the Ming dynasty, the emperor's concubines had to crawl from his feet up to his bed."

Hearing this, Qiqige felt a wave of nausea. She couldn't stomach another bite.

She went out for a walk in the garden alone to get some fresh air. Seeing Dorgon and Dodo arrive lifted her spirits slightly. After greeting his sister-in-law, Dodo headed to the dining hall—he couldn't miss showing up for his beloved side consort's birthday celebration.

Dorgon, however, stayed behind and asked his wife, "Why are you out here by yourself?"

Qiqige smiled. "They're too noisy. My ears are ringing. All they talk about is Nam Jung, as if they've been spying on the side palace every night. The way they speak, you'd think they saw it all first-hand."

Dorgon replied, "Speaking of which, I only learned about this on the way back. Before we reached the Chahar tribe, Princess Taisong was so distraught over her betrothal to Daisan that she tried to end her life. Nam Jung personally whipped her in response. It was only when I saw them searching for medicine on the road that I found out."

"Nam Jung is that ruthless?" Qiqige shook her head repeatedly. Though she was the formidable Fourteenth Consort, the most fearful lady in Shengjing, she had never personally whipped even a servant. And unless someone committed a heinous crime, she would never resort to such harsh punishments.

"She doesn't seem to care about hiding it, either," Dorgon said with disdain. "Her reputation precedes her. I wonder, if she gains more influence in the palace, will her arrogance grow even worse?"

Qiqige sighed. "Did you know this ridiculous 'bedchamber discipline' method was Yuer's idea?"

Dorgon froze, his heart jolting, though he masked his reaction and shook his head. "How would I know that?"

Qiqige, growing worried, said, "That girl has read too many books. Her horizons have broadened, and her ideas are clever. That's good, of course, but I'm also concerned about one thing."

Feigning indifference, Dorgon took her hand and led her toward the dining hall, asking casually, "What's that?"

"I'm afraid she's channelling all her frustration over Hairanju onto Nam Jung. She mustn't go too far. Nam Jung only just arrived and hasn't done anything yet, but she's already targeting her like this. Remember at the hunting grounds when she slapped Zarut? Was that truly just a reckless moment of immaturity? Only Yuer knows."

Dorgon didn't want to discuss Da Yuer with Qiqige, but every word struck a nerve. Why hadn't he gotten rid of Nam Jung on the way back? Why did he send such a woman into the inner palace?

"I've always said Yuer looks like a rabbit, but deep down, she hides the heart of a tiger or wolf," Qiqige chattered on. "I'd better stay on my guard around her from now on. If she's capable, Hong Taiji will surely make use of her."

But often, whether it's exploitation or reliance is irrelevant to others' opinions. If the person involved is willing, they will do anything without complaint or hesitation.

With a sigh, Qiqige added, "I just hope Huang Taiji doesn't let Yuer's devotion go to waste."

In the imperial palace study, Fan Wencheng came to bid farewell to Da Yuer before departing Shengjing for an official mission. He wouldn't return until after summer.

Before leaving, he brought many books for Da Yuer and several handkerchiefs stitched by his concubine as a token of gratitude.

"These are humble gifts, I hope Consort Yu will not disdain them," Fan Wencheng said, bowing deeply. "My wife is deeply grateful for Consort Yu's kindness in saving her life. She told me that if you hadn't devised a plan to help her leave back then, she had already resolved to take her own life."

Da Yuer examined the finely embroidered handkerchiefs and praised the craftsmanship, but she smiled faintly. "There's no need to thank me. You should thank the Great Khan. Your wife is also clever. A timid person wouldn't have dared to act, even if she had received the message. But she had the courage to bring the tea to me, seizing her chance. In the end, one's fate is always in one's own hands."

Fan Wencheng understood. There were people in the Fifteenth Beile's household loyal to Hong Taiji who had delivered the message to his concubine, instructing her on what to do during the Fifteenth Consort's birthday. His wife's boldness, as Da Yuer pointed out, had made the difference. A less daring woman might not have even believed the instructions.

"You're currently caught between two sides. Why not choose one master to serve wholeheartedly? You might find a clear path forward," Da Yuer said, her gaze now carrying a quiet yet commanding authority. The histories she had read, the great rulers, and the fierce battles—they seemed to have instilled a profound transformation in her presence.

"Consort Yu's advice is clear to me," Fan Wencheng replied, kneeling down. "I pledge my loyalty to the Great Khan and to you, Consort Yu."

"Rise, sir. You are my teacher. A student should bow to her teacher in the study. Beyond this door, we may discuss rank and duty."

Da Yuer treated him with respect, calling for Sumala to bring some small gold pieces. She handed them to Fan Wencheng and said, "Take care of yourself on the road, and remember your duty. One day, you must fulfill your ancestors' aspirations at the Hall of Supreme Harmony."

Fan Wencheng rose and bowed deeply. "I will not forget."

Before leaving, he briefly explained the contents of the new books he had brought. Da Yuer listened attentively, her interest temporarily easing her worries.

Meanwhile, Hong Taiji returned from the Ten Kings Pavilion and considered resting in Hairanju's quarters.

Hearing the commotion in the study, Huang Taiji, rolling up his sleeves, dismissed the matter lightly, saying, "Let them be. Once the study is empty, have Fan Wencheng wait for me in the Grand Politics Hall."

Hairanju, already aware of her husband's return, came out to greet him. Hong Taiji teasingly chided her, "I told you not to go out, and you really haven't stepped outside? Won't you suffocate? The spring weather is perfect. Go out and soak up some sunlight!"

"I was waiting for you," Hairanju said gently, her eyes soft and her smile warm as she extended her hand. "Come in and rest; you must be tired."

Hong Taiji replied, "No need to rest; I'll take you for a walk."

Hairanju shook her head. "No rush. I've already made plans with Qiqige. Tomorrow, Yuer and I will go to the Fourteenth Beile's residence for a visit."

Hong Taiji frowned slightly but eventually stepped inside, loosening the buttons at his collar. "To Dorgon's place?"

Hairanju understood and asked back, "Is it inappropriate? Actually, Qiqige also had concerns, but Aunt agreed. She said it's better to act openly and confidently. Both Yuer and I were surprised."

Hong Taiji gave a small grunt of acknowledgment but said nothing.

Hairanju, sensing his inner burden, stepped closer and gently placed a hand on his chest. She spoke softly, "You're at it again. Relax, just relax."

"How do I relax?" Hong Taiji pulled her into an embrace, his eyes filled with affection. "Teach me?"

Hairanju blushed, nudging him to sit down. She brought over the prepared tea and snacks, and Hong Taiji reclined comfortably, saying, "This feels nice..."

"Take a break," Hairanju urged, lightly picking up a blanket. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced toward the opposite side palace, but she quickly reined in her thoughts. She wasn't afraid, and she wouldn't yield. What was Nam Jung, after all?

Sure enough, on the other side, Nam Jung was also fixated on the scene. Lixin rushed back to her mistress, scoffing, "My lady, Hong Taiji really did go to see that Hairanju."

Nam Jung glared at her. "The Great Khan's name—how dare you speak it so casually?"

Lixin hurriedly knelt down. "This servant deserves to die."