Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel)

The last sound Cheng Wanyun heard before being swallowed by the overwhelming darkness was the astonished exclamations around her.

She didn’t know how long she had slept in the darkness, but when she woke up, she was back in Yuqing Palace.

She regained consciousness in the Western Warm Room, where she usually resided. The heated kang beneath her was warm, and the faint, bitter scent of medicine drifted in from the outer room. Cheng Wanyun felt dazed for a moment and tried to rub her eyes, only to realize that her hand was being tightly held by someone.

Turning her head, she saw the crown prince sitting on a small stool, awkwardly leaning against the edge of the kang. It was unclear how long he had been there, but even if he had fallen asleep, he hadn’t dared to relax. His brow was furrowed, and despite the warmth of the room, his face was still pale.

Cheng Wanyun glanced up and looked at the clock on the table. It was four in the morning, and she had been unconscious for two hours.

She didn’t feel much pain. Instinctively, she used her free hand to touch her lower abdomen. The slightly protruding curve finally made her heart return to its normal rhythm.

“…The child is fine.”

Yinreng was startled awake by the sound of Cheng Wanyun fidgeting. When he saw her open her eyes, he let out a huge sigh of relief. He tried to get up to hug her but ended up with his legs numb and feet weak, toppling the stool over. He fell to the ground and couldn’t get up for a while.

Yinreng: “…”

Cheng Wanyun: “…”

He Baozhong kept his head lowered, like a whirlwind ball, rushing over to help the crown prince up and sit by the kang, then quickly rolled back out.

In his heart, he was crying: Why must I see the crown prince’s embarrassing moment? Why was I the only one left to serve outside? Why wasn’t it Hua La’s turn today? I hate this! I hate it so much!

Yinreng pretended nothing had happened and bent down to hug her. His arms around her were still slightly trembling. “A Wan, you scared me. His Majesty is furious about what happened this time! I’ve already asked him to investigate thoroughly and punish those responsible! How dare they cause trouble on such an auspicious day! Thankfully, you and the child are fine. If not, I would’ve killed those people!”

By the end of his words, the usually gentle, polite, and composed crown prince showed a fierce killing intent. Cheng Wanyun had never heard him speak with such cold, ruthless tones before. Sensing this, she raised her hand to touch the crown prince’s head, gently stroking it, until he finally let out a long sigh.

Encountering such misfortune during the New Year was truly enough to make one shake with anger.

“Is Bitao alright?” When she fell, Bitao had thrown herself backward to protect her, landing on her back and cushioning her fall. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to lie here so easily now. Cheng Wanyun lifted her head slightly and looked around. “Where’s Bitao?”

“She hit the back of her head and lost consciousness immediately after falling. I’ve asked He Baozhong to arrange a separate room for her to rest, and I’ve also called the imperial doctor to treat her. She’s had acupuncture twice already and has woken up, but she can’t get up yet. We have someone taking care of her constantly, so don’t worry.” Yinreng was very reassuring about Bitao as well. “Such a loyal servant deserves to be richly rewarded.”

“That’s good to hear.” Cheng Wanyun sighed in relief, then began thinking that once the crown prince left, she would definitely go visit Bitao in person. After all, Bitao had saved her life!

She then asked, “And Wang Daiying, is she alright?”

“She didn’t fall down the stairs. Hua La managed to hold her back at the cost of his own life. She’s injured, but less so than you. You—why are you not asking about your own condition?” Yinreng shook his head. “Your arm and calf are hurt. Fortunately, the bones aren’t damaged, or else it would’ve taken at least a hundred days to recover, and you’d be bedridden for that long!”

Cheng Wanyun felt a shiver of fear at the thought and murmured, “What exactly happened back then… How dare they make such a move in front of the Emperor and Empress Dowger? Are they really not afraid of dying?”

The force with which Wang Daiying had been pushed with was tremendous. Neither Hua La nor Bitao were able to stop her. Since Cheng Wanyun was closest to the stairs, she was the one who fell. From what the crown prince said, it seemed that Wang Daiying was blocked by Hua La, and though she fell, most of her body landed on Hua La. In this way, those with evil intentions failed to carry out their plan!

“This matter is a bit suspicious,” Yinreng said with a somber expression. “Someone has pointed out that it was Gao Daiying from Yanxi Palace who pushed Wang Daiying out of jealousy. Wang Daiying, on the other hand, is confused about the situation. She has been accused by many people that after the banquet, she followed you all the way! Since she is pregnant, she wasn’t sent to the Ministry of Justice for interrogation. The Emperor has sent an old woman to Yongshou Palace to question her, so the truth should be revealed soon! As for Gao Daiying, she pushed Wang Daiying, and Wang Daiying happened to be right beside you. So, one pushed the other forward. We still don’t know if this was a case of someone using a knife to kill, or if it was an accident that involved you.”

“Gao Daiying?” Cheng Wanyun was surprised. She remembered when she went to kneel at the Empress Dowager’s palace, beside Concubine Hui, there was indeed a young woman in palace attire, apart from the main concubine. Could it have been her? If she really was from Concubine Hui’s palace…

Before she could think it through, she noticed that the crown prince seemed to have misunderstood Wang Daiying’s role in this. She hurriedly explained the relationship between Wang Daiying and Wanhe to the crown prince. “Wang Daiying is also pregnant with the Emperor’s heir. She wouldn’t have taken such a risk. She was following me to thank the Cheng family, and I hope the crown prince can clarify this on her behalf. I don’t believe this matter has anything to do with her; there’s likely another reason behind it.”

Cheng Wanyun didn’t fully dismiss the possibility that Wang Daiying was being used as a tool to harm her, after all, as the crown prince said, this situation was indeed suspicious.

Just after Emperor Kangxi showed his favor toward the crown prince and his children at the grand banquet, this incident happened right after she left the gates of Qianqing Palace. Wasn’t that a slap in the Emperor’s face? Kangxi had just wanted to reconcile the Manchu and Han, but something went wrong during the New Year banquet. For him, it wasn’t just a slap in the face—it was a far bigger issue. Someone with his kind of expansive thinking would be furious, no doubt!

She wasn’t worried that Kangxi wouldn’t thoroughly investigate, nor that the true culprit would remain hidden, because this was a particularly sensitive time. People were bound to speculate about malicious conspiracy theories.

“A Wan, don’t worry about these things. I will handle it,” Yinreng reassured, although he was also surprised by the past connections between Wang Daiying and the Cheng family. But to him, that was a minor matter. His father, the Emperor, had probably already discovered the truth. He didn’t need to say more… Besides, he had just woken up from a dream, and his heart was heavy. He had to force himself to calm down and managed to smile faintly. He gently brushed aside a strand of Cheng Wanyun’s hair from her forehead. “Just rest well.”

“Why are you still troubled, Your Highness?” Cheng Wanyun noticed that although he said so, there was still worry in his eyes, so she asked.

Yinreng’s deep gaze slowly settled on her face. After a long pause, he finally forced a smile. “It’s nothing. I just had a dream.”

Cheng Wanyun then realized that she hadn’t dreamt at all during the long period she was unconscious… Wait, she had hardly dreamed since entering the Eastern Palace. It was almost as if she had reached the point of sleeping deeply without dreams every night.

She rarely dreamt, especially when the crown prince was sleeping beside her. She always slept very soundly, from night till morning.

How strange, where had her dreams gone?

Yinreng carefully observed her expression and realized that A Wan truly had no awareness of the dreams. Up until now, it seemed she didn’t even know she possessed this mysterious ability.

“It’s nothing, just a dream,” Yinreng softened his voice and then comforted her, “Sleep now. You don’t need to worry about the children. I’ve already brought E Linzhu and Akedun to Chunben Hall to sleep. The two of them are sleeping with their heads touching. They weren’t disturbed by the fireworks, and I’ll have them return tomorrow.”

“Then I leave them to you. I have people attending to me here, so you should go rest as well,” Cheng Wanyun nodded. She was about to ask about her daughter when the crown prince seemed to already know what she was thinking.

With the crown prince personally watching over the children, she felt at ease.

Yinreng gave a few more instructions before leaving.

As soon as he stepped outside, a light moisture settled on his brow. He looked up and saw the fine snow falling like dust.

“May this be a good omen for the year!” He Baozhong tried to say something auspicious to lift the crown prince’s spirits. “Truly, Heaven blesses our Qing Dynasty. This year will surely be smooth and prosperous.”

To his surprise, after hearing that, Yinreng’s face darkened completely. He lifted his foot and gave He Baozhong a swift kick. “You’re showing off now! You dog slave! No one thinks you’re mute if you keep quiet!”

He Baozhong, utterly confused by the kick, scrambled to get up in a panic and hurriedly chased forward, his mind racing. What was going on? How did he… how did he fail to become the prince’s inner confidant?

He felt anxious and couldn’t help but resent others. ‘It’s all Hua La’s fault!’

Ahead, Yinreng had already left He Baozhong behind, walking briskly into the wind and snow. The faster he walked, the more hurried he became!

Now, whenever he closed his eyes, he would see that snowy night. In the heavy, swirling snow, he heard the agonized, beast-like screams coming from the back room.

In that unbearable dream, amidst the falling snow, he and A Wan had lost E Linzhu.

#

Yinreng returned to Chunben Hall and first went to check on the two children.

They had been placed in the east wing of Chunben Hall. With the chaos from A Wan’s situation, Yinreng would not allow anything to happen to the two children, so he insisted on keeping them under close watch.

The room was warm and quiet. Before Yinreng entered, the wet nurse had already risen and knelt beside the bed. E Linzhu and Akedun appeared to be sleeping soundly. But when he pulled back the blanket, he saw that both were tangled in strange positions. E Linzhu had placed her little chubby leg on her brother’s stomach, and Akedun was twisted in a rather odd posture, still fast asleep.

Yinreng couldn’t help but smile faintly. He sat on the edge of the bed, gently touched each of the children, and carefully tucked the blanket around them again.

He gazed at their sleeping faces, almost as if he couldn’t tear himself away.

The bronze beast-head charcoal brazier in the room was burning smokeless, odorless silver frost charcoal, glowing red. Occasionally, it made a faint popping sound, pulling Yinreng from his trance.

He had dreamt again.

It had been nearly a year since his last dream. He thought the fate of him and A Wan had already been revealed, and that he would never dream again. But this time, the dream was about E Linzhu.

In the dream, it was also snowing heavily, even more than today.

The snow seemed to have been falling endlessly for a long time. The entire Forbidden City was blanketed in silver, with thick layers of snow on the roofs of the back rooms, and the windows were frosted over, frozen like a piece of translucent jade.

On the day when the snow stopped and the sky cleared, E Linzhu could no longer resist the urge to go out and play. She pesteringly bothered A Wan the whole day, and A Wan, who had been nursing, was so annoyed that the veins on her forehead stood out. She quickly waved her hand and dismissed her: “Alright, alright, go ahead! But only one thing—be back before a quarter past the Shen hour ( The “Shen hour” corresponds to the period between 3:00 PM and 5:00 PM)!”

E Linzhu seemed unchanged from A Wan’s memories, except that her aura had grown more refined with time.

In the dream, E Linzhu appeared to be around six or seven years old, already having her hair tied up in braids, tall and slender. She hadn’t grown as sturdy and strong as A Wan had hoped; her little face was no longer as round as it had been in her younger years, gradually revealing a delicate, refined contour, much like A Wan’s own.

But Yinreng recognized her immediately.

The little girl was dressed in a bright red Qizhuang (Manchu court attire), looking as poised and sharp as a red plum blossom defying the snow on Tianshan Mountain. She waved a riding crop with a bright and radiant smile on her face, riding a small horse across the thick ice of Kunming Lake.

Behind her were several boys and girls of a similar age, likely young princes or grandsons of the emperor in the palace, gathered to race horses.

E Linzhu was an excellent rider. Despite her young age, she led the pack, her legs securely gripping the horse’s sides. She quickly passed many boys, even having time to look back and stick her tongue out at them, making a silly face.

“Come on! You cowards!”

In the dream, Yinreng was also infected by E Linzhu’s free-spiritedness. She rode on, galloping ahead, leaving everyone behind.

What a daughter I have! Yinreng was immensely proud!

Soon, a purple steed surged out from the crowd of pursuers, ridden by a young Mongolian boy in a dark-colored robe with golden embroidery. He moved like lightning and quickly closed the gap with E Linzhu.

“You Harinauhai! You’re here to ruin my fun again!” As soon as E Linzhu saw the rider, she became as feisty as a cat with its tail stepped on. Her fur bristled, and she turned around to shout, “Don’t get cocky! I won’t let you catch up so easily!”

The young Mongolian boy, now tall and upright like a sapling, had a cold, stern face. He muttered a series of Mongolian words, which E Linzhu clearly understood. Her silver bell-like laughter drifted with the wind.

Harinauhai? Yinreng’s smile froze on his face as he looked at the dark-skinned boy. It was the youngest son of the Zungharian prince, Zewang Alabutan, who had recently entered the palace from Rehe. He was four years older than E Linzhu, and not long ago, both A Wan and he had made fun of his name…

So it’s him…

For some unknown reason, a wave of sourness rose in Yinreng’s heart as he looked at the Mongolian boy, now catching up with E Linzhu. His gaze turned increasingly unfriendly.

“What an ill-mannered little black dog!” Yinreng muttered in the dream, playing the role of a disgruntled father.

After a while, Harinauhai caught up with E Linzhu. The reflection of the two, E Linzhu and Harinauhai, was mirrored on the surface of the Kunming Lake, which looked like a mirror. E Linzhu had reined in her horse, and together with the Mongolian boy, they leisurely rode back.

Despite the icy, snowy weather, both were sweating from the ride. E Linzhu’s braids had come undone, her forehead damp with sweat, strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. Harinauhai then pulled out a handkerchief from his chest and handed it to her.

E Linzhu, with a bright smile, gracefully accepted it. After wiping her sweat, she handed the handkerchief back, which Harinauhai carefully folded and returned to his chest.

Later, the two sat by the lake and watched the sunset. Harinauhai played a short flute, performing a melody from the grasslands, its tune vast and melancholic.

E Linzhu gazed at the sunset’s reflection on the lake, clearly captivated by the music.

In the dream, Yinreng, confident that no one could see him, unceremoniously sat between his daughter and Harinauhai. He scrutinized the Mongolian boy, his disapproving gaze fixed upon him, wishing he could slap him back to the northern grasslands.

After the sunset, E Linzhu’s wet nurse came to fetch her. E Linzhu pouted, unwilling to leave, and made plans to ride again with Harinauhai in the future.

Harinauhai nodded earnestly, again and again.

E Linzhu then chuckled, lightly scolding, “You’re so silly!”

Harinauhai just quietly looked back at her.

Seeing that his daughter was finally leaving with her wet nurse, Yinreng finally felt at ease. However, when he looked back, he saw that Harinauhai was still standing where he had been, watching E Linzhu’s retreating figure. He only lowered his head and slowly led his horse off toward the Prince’s residence when her silhouette disappeared beyond the palace gates.

Yinreng: … Neither he nor A Wan had such a lingering farewell! That half-grown child couldn’t even hold back!

He was furious.

Yinreng had already made a mental note to keep his daughter away from that Mongolian boy in the future!

So what if he can ride a horse? It’s nothing special. There are plenty of horse riders among the men of the Qing dynasty!

Suddenly, the world seemed to shift. He was no longer by Kunming Lake but in the back hall of Yuqing Palace. It seemed like some time had passed, and the back hall was in disarray, with everyone wearing cloth masks and scattering quicklime along the walls.

In the dream, it seemed to be a winter with heavy snow. Eunuchs were sweeping the snow all night, but it quickly piled back up. Yinreng stood still in the swirling snow, hearing the crunching of footsteps as people moved around him.

He felt as though he had been bound by the gray-white night, turning into a lifeless, soulless clay statue.

The harsh wind brought in icy snowflakes, and he could almost feel the sharp, painful cold against his face. He looked around in confusion.

What is this…? What is this…? A terrifying thought surged in his mind, but he dared not follow it.

The leaden clouds hung low, as though pressing directly down upon him, suffocating him with their weight.

His strength seemed drained, and he had to lean against the wall, stumbling step by step, until he reached a room surrounded by thick curtains. The chief of the Imperial Medical Department stood there, his face covered, frowning deeply. Two other doctors emerged from behind the curtains, their expressions grim as they shook their heads. “The eldest princess’s poxes haven’t crusted over, and the fever won’t subside… I’m afraid…”

Before the doctor could finish, Yinreng collapsed to the ground.

He had contracted smallpox at the age of five and, fortunately, survived, but many did not escape the clutches of the disease, not even those of royal blood, including emperors. In the past, Nurhaci’s sons, along with his uncles and brothers, all contracted smallpox and quickly died. Even the late emperor and Empress Dowager Dong’e succumbed to the disease; the late emperor passed away at the age of only 24.

In the face of this fatal disease, there was no distinction between the emperor and the commoner—everyone was equally vulnerable. Once one contracted smallpox, there was nothing anyone could do to save them.

Kangxi had delved deeply into medicine and placed great importance on researching the prevention and treatment of smallpox. He realized that once a person had survived smallpox, they would not catch it again. Thus, he thought of the idea of “variolation”—exposing people to smallpox intentionally in order to prevent future infection. This idea was revolutionary and shocking, but Kangxi still had people experiment with the scabs of patients with mild symptoms of smallpox, using them on condemned criminals. Unfortunately, the success rate was very low, with most of the prisoners dying.

Because so few survived, the Emperor had given up on the variolation method the previous year. But what other methods could be used? The only hope had been shattered, and now, he had just learned that his daughter would die from smallpox…

How could he possibly accept this?

Yinreng’s mind was in turmoil.

In his dream, he sat outside the room where E Linzhu had been isolated, waiting in vain for good news. But in the end, he only heard A Wan’s desperate and sorrowful cries.

“If only I had known! If only I had known—” Through a window half-blown open by the wind, he saw A Wan dazedly holding E Linzhu’s lifeless body, tears streaming down her face as she murmured.

“I was wrong… it’s my fault…”

Tears immediately welled up in Yinreng’s eyes. He struggled to get up and rush into the thick curtains to hold them both, but he was swept away by the snowstorm in the dream.

In a daze, he seemed to hear the desolate and vast Mongolian melody again, the flute notes cutting through the heavy snow. Yinreng could almost see the figure of a young boy standing motionless outside the palace walls, already covered in snow, like a snowman.

He finally fell hard back into reality.

The dream ended.

A Wan also woke from her unconscious state.

Yinreng forced himself to gather his strength, not allowing A Wan to notice anything, and returned to Chunben Hall. Sitting beside the small, curled-up E Linzhu, he could no longer hold back the tears that flooded his eyes.

Had she not fulfilled her promise? Had she not gotten to ride horses with that boy, and had she left this world so suddenly? Would she feel regret? Would she miss her parents? Did she leave any final words before she passed?

Why had A Wan cried out “If only I had known” and “It’s my fault?” Her expression seemed filled with extreme self-blame! The unsaid words in her speech—could it be that E Linzhu’s smallpox had some hidden reason behind it?

Yinreng still had no answers to any of this.

He could hardly believe what would become of him and A Wan after losing E Linzhu.

E Linzhu was the pearl that would remain in his heart forever, the precious treasure he could never part with. He couldn’t accept that this child had left him this way, that from now on, they would be forever separated by life and death.

He sat in silence for about a quarter of an hour before finally standing up. He took one last deep look at his sleeping daughter and then returned to his chambers.

The fragments of his dream still lingered, but no matter what, no matter how E Linzhu would eventually contract smallpox in the future, even if it meant defying the heavens, he would snatch his daughter back from the hands of the king of hell!

Even imprisonment and exile had not been able to break him, and this dream revealed a future of five or six more years. What did he have to be despondent about or to flee from? As a parent, he should exhaust all his energy for his children! Yinreng couldn’t sleep at all, his fists clenched tightly.

Could it be the smallpox brought by that Harinauhai?

Though the Mongol tribes were scattered across the vast grasslands, they were more susceptible to smallpox than those of them living in cities. This was because they frequently migrated and roamed as nomads. One of the reasons Kangxi had established the Rehe Palace and Mulan Hunting Grounds outside the Great Wall was to change the tradition of Mongol tribes coming to the capital to pay homage. The location was moved to the outskirts of the Great Wall to prevent another disaster like the one during the Shunzhi era when Mongol tribes entered the capital, bringing smallpox to the city and the imperial palace.

But Harinauhai had already come to the palace this year, essentially as a hostage, and the Emperor certainly wouldn’t easily allow him to return. Since the time in his dream when E Linzhu contracted smallpox, it had probably already been five or six years! Smallpox shouldn’t remain dormant in the body for years before breaking out, right?

Yinreng, who had personally contracted smallpox, understood what the disease was like, and thus he erased the thought of Harinauhai spreading smallpox and causing E Linzhu’s death from his mind.

He had purely dreamed of the two of them growing up together, childhood companions with no secrets, and as a father, it hurt deeply.

Even though the princesses of the Qing Dynasty were to marry into Mongolia, Yinreng had already decided in his heart that, even if he had to kneel before the Emperor, he would go to any lengths to beg for an imperial favor to have E Linzhu stay in the capital. He didn’t want his daughter to marry into Mongolia.

Yet, his daughter had become so close with the son of the Mongol prince, and Harinauhai was still from the Zungharian tribe! Who knew whether the Zunghars had been subdued by then? Even if she had to go to Mongolia, the prosperous Khorchin grasslands would be the best choice…

The Zunghars were poor and remote!

In the first half of his dream, Yinreng really thought it was hinting that his daughter would be married to the Zunghar tribe. But instead, he found out that his daughter had only five or six years left to live!

Yinreng began to feel that marrying into the Zunghar tribe might not be that bad after all… At least she would be alive when it was time for her to marry!

Yinreng tossed and turned on his bed, unable to sleep, until the bright light of dawn seeped through the window, stinging his eyes. He was suddenly brought back to his senses when He Baozhong cautiously entered to serve him.

“He Baozhong, take my order and go to the Library of Books. Bring back all the medical texts related to smallpox prevention and treatment.” Yinreng’s voice was hoarse, but his eyes were filled with determination.

He Baozhong, upon receiving the order, was so overjoyed that he nearly burst into tears. He quickly agreed, and after leaving, he discreetly wiped his tears on his sleeve. Thankfully, the Crown Prince had not grown tired of him!

#

Cheng Wanyun spent most of her time in bed resting due to injuries on her hands and feet. Though they were only superficial wounds, some places where the bandages had been lifted were still shocking to see. The imperial physician had advised her not to move too much, as the wounds needed to scab over and heal quickly.

Cheng Wanyun took it easy and became quite comfortable, like a pampered pig.

The two children often came to visit her, only to be quickly pulled away by Yinreng. Cheng Wanyun noticed that when the Crown Prince came to accompany her, he seemed to be deeply focused on some research, holding several medical books and reading them intently. The more he read, the darker his expression became.

The two of them were reading together, and Cheng Wanyun, feeling bored from her illness, couldn’t resist her curiosity and leaned over to take a look. She spotted the word “pox” and thought, ‘Huh! Why is the Crown Prince reading a medical book on smallpox?’

Is the Crown Prince trying to treat smallpox? Has Master Kang assigned his son this new task? Cheng Wanyun remembered that cowpox was already known during the reign of Emperor Kangxi, though it was in the later years of his rule. Before that, Emperor Kangxi had been focused on fighting smallpox vaccines.

It seemed to have been around the 40th year of Kangxi’s reign? When Western missionaries came to China, they brought with them the new method of preventing smallpox—cowpox. This technique attracted great attention from Emperor Kangxi as soon as it emerged.

At that time, many people were skeptical and thought it wouldn’t work. It was Emperor Kangxi who, against public opinion, broke from tradition and boldly tried it. He first administered cowpox to criminals sentenced to death, palace maids, and eunuchs, finding that the success rate was very high. Moreover, those who received the vaccine indeed didn’t contract smallpox again. After seeing these positive results, Kangxi, despite the pressure, began vaccinating his own children. Once this showed positive outcomes, he expanded the program to include the people of the capital, the Mongol Forty-Nine Banners, the Khalkha Mongols, and other areas, gradually broadening its reach.

The safety of cowpox and the strong top-down push for its use slowly turned the technique into a national policy. It was gradually accepted by the people and saved millions of lives.

From this perspective, Cheng Wanyun felt that Kangxi was indeed a competent emperor. Standing on the shoulders of great people from future generations, she knew that cowpox was a good technique. However, no one in the Qing Dynasty knew about it at the time, and even Kangxi himself couldn’t guarantee its success. Yet, he was still willing to try it, even using his own children as examples to promote cowpox and nearly eradicate smallpox from China.

At this time, there didn’t seem to be any regulation in the palace requiring the princes or grandsons to receive the vaccine, nor had anyone heard of cowpox, so perhaps the technique hadn’t spread yet?

But had Kangxi already started to try it? Was that why the Crown Prince was studying medical books, wanting to help him with this issue?

This was something that could save the lives of countless people. Even if the cowpox technique had been implemented a year or two earlier, it could have saved many more lives! Cheng Wanyun hesitated for a moment, and when the two were lying together at night with no one else around, she finally spoke to the Crown Prince. “Second Lord, I’ve heard that there are cows with smallpox in my hometown…”