Chapter 15: Chapter 15

An Ning couldn't help but rub her ears.

Seeing her expression, Boguoduo beside her thought she was merely astonished and proceeded to explain with a faint smile:

"Apparently this was proposed by a certain Noble Lady Zhangjia in the palace. It has already been verified by the Imperial Hospital. The effectiveness is comparable to the currently popular human pox method, but the risk is less than one percent of that method."

"Moreover, the Imperial Hospital specially selected over a hundred death row prisoners for testing, and only one elderly man with preexisting frailty encountered any issues."

Prince Zhuang's tone was uncharacteristically cheerful. After all, the Manchu people had always regarded smallpox as their greatest enemy, and in a few years, their own Yuanbao would reach the age for inoculation.

Who wouldn't be delighted to eliminate such a major threat?

Yet An Ning's mind was currently being bombarded by entirely different thoughts.

Well, mystery solved - definitely a transmigrator.

This was precisely one reason why An Ning absolutely refused to use this knowledge as her stepping stone for advancement.

How could one guarantee being the only lucky soul in this timeline?

"Fellow transmigrators meeting would weep with joy"? Yeah right! If their interests didn't conflict, fine. But the moment they did, you'd be the first target.

Or perhaps, possessing the same era's knowledge and advantages inherently created conflict.

The value of foresight lies in its exclusivity.

She couldn't help but wonder how much this person knew about actual history. An Ning lifted her gaze to study the child's father leisurely sipping tea before her - after all, historically, he had no heir to inherit his title.

But even if this other transmigrator knew, it wasn't impossible to explain away. Without this female lead's existence, her current body might have been pushed into the Emperor's harem long ago, and she wouldn't be Prince Zhuang's Side Consort now.

Fortunately, An Ning felt a surge of relief. Thankfully, since transmigrating, she'd maintained a thoroughly unambitious, slacker attitude. She hadn't done anything remotely unusual and feared no investigation.

But An Ning understood all too well - for those in power, suspicion alone was crime enough.

She just didn't know what this fellow transmigrator was thinking. "That Noble Lady Zhangjia must be truly remarkable to conceive such a brilliant method!" An Ning probed.

Just as expected, seeing An Ning's enthusiastic expression, Boguoduo's eyes darkened slightly. Lightly spinning his teacup, his relaxed demeanor faded:

"An Ning, with this achievement, that noble lady's promotion to Consort or even Imperial Consort is imminent. The palace is fraught with dangers - our princely residence has always steered clear of such matters."

What Prince Zhuang didn't say was that there was something rather peculiar about this Noble Lady Zhangjia.

When news of the smallpox achievement first surfaced, this noble lady had already been thoroughly investigated by all factions in the palace.

Even without making special inquiries himself, as an imperial prince, certain information naturally reached Boguoduo's ears.

The daughter of an ordinary bondservant family from an old alleyway, with no country estates to their name. A former palace maid barely literate. Yet such a person just happened to stumble upon this miraculous solution to a centuries-old problem?

Keep in mind that even draft cattle were considered valuable commodities now.

Moreover, a palace maid with no backing whatsoever had managed to give birth to a healthy young prince despite clearly offending Consort De, a palace mistress.

Prince Zhuang knew most of these rumors were likely spread by various palace consorts, probably exaggerated.

But where there's smoke, there's fire.

In any case, An Ning should stay as far away from this woman as possible.

Without needing to ask, just seeing his expression gave An Ning the answer.

Indeed, no member of the imperial family lacked intelligence. An Ning couldn't help but pout:

"Understood, my lord. You know perfectly well I've never been fond of visiting the palace..."

After all, who in their right mind enjoyed kneeling all over the place for no reason?

Unexpectedly, these words seemed to have been misunderstood. Taking her hand, Boguoduo's usually gentle voice turned noticeably deeper: "Good. From now on, if you don't wish to enter the palace, An Ning need not go."

As a Side Consort rather than the primary princess consort, they could easily find excuses - who in the palace would bother investigating?

As for Yuanbao, he could take the boy himself when he was older.

Not caring what assumptions he might be making, An Ning happily nodded at being spared the ordeal.

That evening, when another wave of antiques and treasures arrived, An Ning couldn't help clicking her tongue.

Turns out having few heirs had its advantages - this princely residence was loaded! Probably all the accumulated wealth since the previous prince's generation during the conquest had ended up in her lord's hands.

Excellent - this would all become her Yuanbao's inheritance.

She never found out what explanation he gave the princess consort, but true to his word, An Ning never entered the palace again until Yuanbao was old enough to study at the imperial study. Instead, it was her son - now Prince Zhuang's heir, Aisin-Gioro Mingyu - who seemed to have activated some universally-lovable trait, becoming extraordinarily popular in palace circles.

In recent years, as the Crown Prince and Eldest Young Master were at each other's throats and younger imperial princes picked sides or stayed neutral, this rascal managed to offend no one while maintaining good relations with all - sweetly addressing each as "Crown Prince cousin" or "eldest cousin."

Even the notoriously antagonistic Fourth and Ninth Princes had once nearly come to blows arguing over which palace their little cousin would visit that day.

Even Emperor Kangxi himself, when driven to headaches by his troublesome sons, would often summon this pleasing, considerate nephew to discuss calligraphy and painting, soothing his frustrations.

Son, if only your emotional intelligence could rub off on your mother.

But An Ning suspected his popularity owed much to his extraordinarily handsome features.

Her earlier guess might have been correct - if nothing else, the intermediate-grade birthing pill visibly optimized physical appearance.

Moreover, An Ning's current body was beautiful to begin with, and his father Prince Zhuang was among the rare scholarly, refined types in the Qing imperial family. The combination naturally produced remarkable results.

At barely twelve, he'd already earned a reputation as "peerlessly handsome," with potential brides lining entire streets to marry into the family.

Thanks to her precious son, An Ning's social standing among noblewomen had visibly improved over the years.

"Father! Mother! I'm home!"

Speak of the devil. In the study, An Ning reluctantly set aside her half-finished orchid painting and signaled the boy's father with her eyes.

True to his role as the doting father of recent years, Boguoduo didn't hesitate for a second, putting down his art book and heading toward the voice.

Through the window, the youth's voice brimmed with sunny vitality. The other voice, in contrast, carried its usual restraint.

When An Ning stepped out, she happened to see Mingyu cheerfully tugging at his father's sleeve while chatting. Though Prince Zhuang maintained a stern expression, he responded to every remark.

The natural intimacy between father and son was palpable. Just as An Ning approached, she caught a glimpse of unconcealed envy in the Fourth Prince's eyes before he could mask it.

Hmm... Now she understood another reason for her son's smooth sailing in palace circles beyond just good looks.