Ignoring the chaotic fallout in the harem, Yinreng found his days highly fulfilling. Aside from his eldest brother, Yinzi, constantly trying to compete with him in the Imperial Study, his life was smooth.
His workload was light due to his age, allowing him to finish his formal lessons by noon. Upon returning to his quarters, he devoured the Four Books. His intense dedication was a stark contrast to his previous lethargy. The System in his mind grew increasingly frustrated by this unnatural work ethic, but Yinreng simply muted its notifications, focusing entirely on his studies. He would use the System's database, but he refused to let it control his actions.
His greatest joy was his time with Ferdinand Verbiest, known as Master Nan. Having lived in the Qing Empire for years, the Belgian missionary spoke fluent Chinese and Manchu, making communication effortless.
Yinreng treated their sessions like a game, pestering Verbiest to explain the mechanics of Western clocks. Beneath the guise of childish imagination, Yinreng carefully guided the conversations. Every three or four wild guesses he made contained one precise, calculated hint that pointed Verbiest in the right direction.
Seeing their enthusiasm, Kangxi sent several broken clocks to Yuqing Palace for Yinreng to dismantle.
Within days, the old man and the six-year-old produced a viable, localized blueprint for a mechanical clock. Naturally, the court attributed the success to Verbiest, assuming the Crown Prince was merely playing along. Verbiest himself suspected nothing, though he formally reported to Kangxi: "Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is a mechanical prodigy. If he focuses on this path, his achievements will be boundless."
Kangxi was stunned, but pleased. He did not want a Crown Prince who specialized in mechanics, but a sharp mind and a harmless hobby were welcome traits.
With the blueprint secured, Yinreng immediately pushed for the next phase. "Imperial Father, can we build the clock now?"
Kangxi chuckled, humoring him. "I am afraid not."
"I know!" Yinreng declared. "We need clear glass. Master Nan knows the ingredients but not the exact ratios. I had Uncle Songgotu gather some formulas from the Ministry of Public Works and civilian kilns. Master Nan said they just need adjusting. Add a little here, subtract a little there. If we try enough combinations, we will succeed!"
Kangxi shook his head. 'Children think everything is so simple.' The variables in glassmaking were astronomical. It was impossible to simply guess the correct ratio through trial and error.
Yinreng immediately pulled a dozen sheets of paper from his robes. "I filled these out randomly!"
Kangxi looked at the pages shoved into his hands. The ingredients—sand, limestone, soda ash—were written by a scribe. But the specific weight ratios next to them were filled in with Yinreng's childish scrawl.
"See? It's easy to fill in the numbers," Yinreng beamed.
'Filling in numbers is easy,' Kangxi thought dryly. 'Making them actually work is another matter.' This was utter nonsense.
"Imperial Father, give these to the Ministry of Public Works. Have them test every single one!"
Kangxi frowned. He indulged Yinreng, but he would not waste the Ministry's time and the state treasury on a child's guessing game. "The officials are busy with vital state duties. Perhaps we can do this next year?"
Yinreng mentally rolled his eyes. 'Next year?' Kangxi clearly expected him to forget about it in a month. This was exactly the response Yinreng had anticipated.
In negotiation, if you want a window, you must first threaten to tear off the roof; only then will people compromise and agree to the window. Yinreng had deliberately asked for the Ministry of Public Works so he could fall back on his true target.
Yinreng pouted. "If the Ministry is too busy, I will ask Uncle Songgotu. He told me his family owns a private glass kiln. Can I ask him?"
Kangxi paused. Songgotu was a Grand Secretary and Yinreng's great-uncle. Using the Hesheri clan's private kiln meant the inevitable failures would drain Songgotu's personal wealth, not the imperial treasury.
"Very well. If your uncle agrees," Kangxi conceded.
Yinreng grinned. "He will! He said he would do anything I asked." Yinreng immediately tried to press his advantage. "Imperial Father, you promised me a reward for finishing the blueprint. Can my reward be leaving the palace to visit Uncle Songgotu's workshop?"
"Do not push your luck," Kangxi laughed, seeing right through the attempt to go out and play. "If you are in a hurry, I will summon him here."
That was an acceptable compromise.
***
When Songgotu received the urgent summons, he hurried to Yuqing Palace, expecting a political crisis. Instead, he was handed thirty pages of scribbled numbers.
"Your Highness, this... this is quite difficult," Songgotu said, his mouth twitching as he looked at the absurd formulas.
Yinreng glared, playing the spoiled child perfectly. "Why is it difficult? You just don't want to do it!"
"You misunderstand, Your Highness. Clear glass is incredibly difficult to forge. I fear that even if I test all these pages, it will yield nothing but waste, delaying your grand plans." Songgotu hoped the logic would deter the boy.
Instead, Yinreng ran to his desk and brought back another massive stack of papers. "That is fine! If the first batch fails, try these! If these fail, I will write more! If we never give up, we will succeed!"
Looking at the towering pile of guaranteed failures, Songgotu felt a wave of suffocation. He discreetly glanced at Kangxi, praying the Emperor would stop this madness.
Kangxi was casually sipping his tea, a faint smile on his lips.
"Since the Crown Prince has commanded it, you must execute it diligently," Kangxi ordered smoothly. "You have no pressing matters at the moment anyway. Consider this your top priority."
Songgotu froze. 'No pressing matters?'He was a Grand Secretary of the Baohe Hall. The Emperor determined what was "pressing."
In a flash, Songgotu understood the terrifying reality of the situation. This was not about a child's toy. This was political suppression. Recently, Concubine Hui had been confined, and her political backer, the Mingzhu faction, had been reprimanded. Songgotu had aggressively capitalized on this, ruthlessly attacking Mingzhu's allies to expand his own power.
Kangxi was stepping in to maintain the balance. By ordering Songgotu to personally oversee this absurd, time-consuming "hobby," Kangxi was stripping him of his immediate political authority and forcing him out of the court's current factional warfare.
A cold sweat broke out on Songgotu's back. He dropped to his knees. "I obey Your Majesty's decree."
Yinreng snorted, twisting the knife. "Uncle! Don't try to fool me. I see that look in your eyes; you don't believe my formulas will work! Xiao Zhu Zi, come here!"
Yinreng's young eunuch scurried forward.
"Xiao Zhu Zi, you will go to Uncle's kiln as my overseer," Yinreng commanded. "You will watch his workers test every single sheet of paper exactly as I wrote it! Once they finish these, come back to me. I have an entire chest full of them ready!"
'An entire chest...'
Songgotu wanted to cough up blood. How much silver and time would this cost him? But he was a servant of the Aisin Gioro family. This child was the Crown Prince, his master. He had to swallow his misery.
"Do not worry, Your Highness," Songgotu ground out through gritted teeth. "I will dedicate myself fully to this task."
"Excellent!" Yinreng nodded, highly satisfied. His glass would be manufactured without raising suspicion.
Sitting nearby, Kangxi continued to sip his tea, deeply pleased with how efficiently he had neutralized a political headache without lifting a finger.