Upon hearing that the Empress Dowager intended to adopt her child, Consort De broke down in tears.
This was her own flesh and blood; how could she bear to be separated from them!
If the Empress Dowager loved children, she could adopt the eldest princess born to Consort Xian.
After all, there was a double bond there Consort Xian was her own niece!
Why did she have to take her child?!
Midway through her crying, she suddenly felt something was off.
Was she being ungrateful?
This was the Empress Dowager, after all!
The fact that the Empress Dowager wanted to adopt her child but not Consort Xian’s eldest princess might, in a way, signify special regard for her and her son.
Now that she was crying so fiercely, would the Emperor think her unwise and lacking in filial piety toward the Empress Dowager?
At this thought, Consort De managed to rein in her emotions a bit.
While still sobbing, she glanced at the Emperor to gauge his reaction.
The Emperor was lounging on the couch, propping his head up with one hand, amusing himself with the child.
Noticing her gaze, he casually asked,
“Finished crying?”
Consort De was so exasperated that she almost fell backward.
Her face was full of grievance, and she had no heart left for crying or speculating about his intentions.
“How can you be like this!”
she exclaimed.
The Emperor smiled at her and said,
“You’re just too timid.”
Seeing Consort De puff up her cheeks like a frog, her eyes slightly swollen and red, she looked both pitiful and endearing.
He couldn’t help but reach out to stroke her cheek.
His tone wasn’t mocking but rather carried a gentle reassurance:
“The Empress Dowager was just suggesting it; it’s not set in stone. If you’re unwilling, she won’t force it.”
This was true.
The Empress Dowager hadn’t made the suggestion out of a desire to dote on a grandchild but rather as a politician, nurturing a future political figure.
From her perspective, this was a laborious task that required significant effort.
If Consort De was unwilling, the Empress Dowager wouldn’t push for it.
Hearing this, Consort De’s fear subsided, but she was still hesitant.
In a hoarse voice, she asked the Emperor,
“Can I take some time to think it over before making a decision?”
“Of course,” the Emperor replied casually.
“Just let me know within the next three to five days.”
As Ruan Rensui lay on the couch, he thought to himself: This is another thing I didn’t know before.
So, when I was born, the Empress Dowager had expressed her willingness to raise me?
Why didn’t I know about this in my past life?
Judging by the situation, it seems my mother likely didn’t send me to her.
The Empress Dowager was a cold person, and this “coldness” permeated every aspect of her conduct.
From what he could remember, she was a stern and imposing matriarch, neither particularly close to her son, the Emperor, nor to her grandson and granddaughter.
Only a handful of people had ever earned her favor.
Among his peers, the Empress Dowager favored the eldest and third princesses, as well as the only daughter of Prince Qi, Lady Funing.
Outside the imperial family, she favored Lady Liang, the niece of the late Emperor, as well as Wang Yuanzhen and the sisters Jia Zhen and Jia Ping, who had entered the palace as court ladies.
She also favored the young hour official and Lady Zeng from the Yingchuan Marquis household…
The Empress Dowager liked intelligent girls.
In fact, her favor toward the latter group seemed to surpass even her affection for her blood relatives.
Reflecting on this, Ruan Rensui realized that his father was quite similar to the Empress Dowager in certain ways.
He also liked intelligent people, and both mother and son were remarkably indifferent to blood ties—in his past life, his father’s favorite junior wasn’t even his own child…
Ruan Rensui didn’t intend to make any changes, at least not regarding being raised by the Empress Dowager.
He still wanted to live with his mother.
Despite her many flaws, she was his one and only, best mother.
Though he knew the Empress Dowager’s willingness to raise him was well intentioned, he also knew that, given his abilities, he couldn’t repay her kindness.
In his past life, Ruan Rensui had once had a heart-to-heart with the Empress Dowager.
She candidly told him that during her childhood, the Duke of Cheng’en’s household had treated her harshly-beatings and scoldings were routine, and while her brothers were allowed to study, she was made to do chores at home.
How had the Empress Dowager managed to change her fate?
Because she had educated herself.
Weren’t her family members against her studying?
Yes, but she had risked beatings to eavesdrop on lessons, and she could recite what the teacher said after hearing it just once…
Upon hearing this, Ruan Rensui knew he wouldn’t be the Empress Dowager’s cup of tea.
For some reason, his mind was like a sieve; whatever the ladies taught, he’d forget it immediately…
It took him forever to memorize an article.
Don’t blame him; he didn’t want it to be this way either!
Didn’t he wish he could have a photographic memory and be a genius?!
Painful realization.
The Empress Dowager had even remarked in surprise,
“Your father and Prince Qi never gave me any trouble when they studied. They could memorize a thousand-word essay after reading it a few times. Why can’t you?”
Ruan Rensui: “…”
As he’d said many times, he didn’t want it to be this way either!
No more striving; he was done.
He’d just lie flat and let things take their course!
As a baby’s instincts began to take over, exhaustion set in.
Without even yawning, he closed his eyes and fell asleep in an instant.
The wet nurse quietly approached, intending to take the prince out so the Emperor and Consort De could have a private conversation, but Consort De stopped her.
She placed her hand gently near her son’s swaddling clothes and shook her head slightly.
“You may leave. I’ll keep him with me tonight.”
The wet nurse looked surprised and hesitated to speak.
The Emperor, however, understood Consort De’s feelings and waved his hand, dismissing the wet nurse and the attendants.
Once they were gone, he whispered,
“Don’t worry. If you don’t agree, I won’t let anyone take him away.”
Consort De’s throat tightened, and her eyes reddened as she looked at him.
“Swear it!”
The Emperor slowly raised his hand.
“I swear.”
Only then did Consort De relax a little.
The two of them lay there talking for a while, and when they noticed the child furrow his tiny brows, both parents found him pitiful and endearing, and they instinctively lowered their voices.
This continued until late at night when a servant came to remind them,
“Your Majesty, it’s time to return.”
The Emperor was also feeling sleepy.
Glancing at the time, he murmured,
“I’ll stay here tonight.”
The servant was taken aback and advised,
“This isn’t the custom, Your Majesty.”
It was traditional for the Emperor not to stay overnight in a consort’s chambers while she was still in her postpartum confinement.
Consort De had only given birth the day before.
The Emperor lazily reclined on the couch and ignored the servant, instead asking Consort De,
“What about you? Do you want me to leave?”
Consort De wrapped her arms around him and exclaimed loudly,
“Don’t go!”
After everything that had happened that day, she wanted someone to stay with her.
The Emperor buried his face in her shoulder and chuckled softly.
Ruan Rensui, who had been sleeping soundly, was suddenly startled awake by the noise.
He looked around and let out an angry cry!
The Emperor laughed until he was out of breath, while Consort De, feeling remorseful, quickly pushed him away and reached out to comfort the child.
“Oh dear, was Suisui scared? It’s Mama’s fault…”
Seeing this, the servant didn’t press further and quietly withdrew.
Having reminded the Emperor once, he had done his duty.
Rules were rigid, but the Emperor was a living person!
It was just a job; there was no need to stubbornly oppose the boss.
Lady Jia Zhen arranged for rewards to be distributed among the servants, ensuring their silence.
She also had wet nurses take turns on night duty, ready for any emergencies.
Consort De’s maternal devotion lasted until midnight.
She was sleeping soundly when a little thing beside her began to whimper.
Groggily opening her eyes, her head throbbing from lack of sleep, she peered through the light outside the bed curtains.
“What’s wrong?”
Ruan Rensui: Too bad, I can’t speak yet.
Consort De reached out and felt something wet.
He had wet himself.
Her first instinct was to nudge the Emperor.
“Suisui’s wet!”
In the middle of the night, the Emperor’s voice was surprisingly clear.
“So?”
Consort De lay back down and, like the child, began to shake his arm and whine,
“I’m so tired. I really don’t want to get up and deal with this.”
Ruan Rensui: “…”
The Emperor sighed.
“If you don’t have the skill, don’t take on the task next time.”
He tapped the headboard twice, and the door opened silently.
The Emperor looked down at his son and, with interest, motioned for Consort De to look.
“He’s watching us. Does he know we don’t want to take care of him?”
Consort De, still half-asleep, muttered,
“Don’t worry about it. He won’t remember anyway. He’ll forget after a nap…”
Ruan Rensui: “…”
You’re really my mother, aren’t you, Mom?!
The Emperor chuckled and gently pinched his son’s cheek before handing him to the servant, saying,
“You never know. Maybe he’ll remember?”
Ruan Rensui was handed to the wet nurse, who changed his diaper and fed him again.
In the palace, whether it was a prince or a princess, each child was assigned two wet nurses.
However, before the royal child was born, the Bureau of Palace Affairs would prepare four wet nurses-two who had given birth to boys and two who had given birth to girls.
If the consort gave birth to a prince, the two wet nurses who had borne girls would nurse him.
If a princess was born, the two wet nurses who had borne boys would nurse her.
No one knew the reasoning behind this, but it had always been done this way.
By the age of three, the wet nurses would be dismissed from the palace.
Thus, in his past life, Ruan Rensui had no memory of his wet nurses.
Only in this second life did he learn that his two wet nurses were named Zhang and Qian.
The one currently caring for him was Qian.
Since he had just been fed, Ruan Rensui wasn’t sleepy.
His eyes darted around the room.
Two nursemaids stood by, and Qian carefully placed him in the cradle and gently rocked it.
In the soft glow of the candlelight, she hummed an unknown tune, perhaps projecting her own emotions onto the child.
After finishing the song, Qian noticed he still wasn’t asleep and smiled in surprise.
She loosened his swaddling clothes slightly and whispered,
“How strange. The little prince hardly ever cries…”
She sighed softly, gazing around the opulent palace, and remarked wistfully,
“You’ll have plenty of time to smile in the future. But if you don’t cry now, you might not have many chances to cry later.”
Hehehe, that’s true!
Ruan Rensui’s lips twitched upward uncontrollably.
***
Lady Jia Zhen left Pxiang Palace and returned to her own room to sleep as a court lady, she had her own quarters.
It wasn’t too late, and Jia Zhen, having walked back, wasn’t particularly sleepy.
The spring night was serene, the full moon hung in the sky, and she stood alone by the railing, taking in the fresh air.
Just then, the door to the neighboring room opened, and the hour official Xiao Shi emerged from Lady Lin’s quarters.
Seeing Jia Zhen standing there lost in thought, Xiao Shi couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity.
She had grown accustomed to this scene in recent days.
Lady Jia Zhen must have been annoyed by Consort De in Pxiang Palace and had returned in a huff to sulk.
Thinking this, Xiao Shi sighed inwardly again.
She approached and began skillfully massaging Jia Zhen’s acupressure points to help her relax, while asking,
“Lady Jia Zhen, I brought some carp and tofu soup. Would you like some?”
Jia Zhen came back to her senses and smiled, shaking her head.
“Let’s not disturb Lady Lin.”
Seeing that Jia Zhen seemed calm and her tone was gentle, Xiao Shi relaxed a little and then added,
“The palace may seem peaceful on the surface, but in reality, it’s one wave after another…”
When intelligent people spoke, they often didn’t need to spell things out.
Though Xiao Shi was part of the Bureau of Palace Affairs, she didn’t actually handle its duties; she was stationed at Qianqiu Palace.
Hearing this, Jia Zhen understood that Xiao Shi was referring to the Empress Dowager’s intention to raise the eldest prince.
She sighed helplessly.
“This is beyond our control. Let’s just take things one day at a time.”
Xiao Shi did a quick calculation and then teased,
“Only twenty-eight days left, and you’ll be released from prison. Congratulations!”
Jia Zhen couldn’t bear to hear this; it made her liver ache with stress.
“Xiao Shi, have you been too idle lately?”
She frowned and said,
“It seems your workload isn’t full enough…”
Xiao Shi’s expression changed instantly.
“That’s not true!”
She quickly added,
“Lady Jia Zhen, I’ve actually been very busy lately, working from dawn to dusk, barely able to catch my breath. It’s not easier than what you’re going through…”
Having been influenced by Consort De for so long, Jia Zhen’s gaze swept over Xiao Shi’s still slightly chubby cheeks, and she chuckled.
Her words dripped with natural sharpness, as if venom were spilling from her lips.
“Busy, huh? Suffering a lot, are you? Why don’t you step on the scale and see
for yourself?”
Xiao Shi: “…”
Xiao Shi looked at her with sorrowful eyes.
“Lady Jia Zhen, you’re done for. You’ve been completely marinated in Consort De’s essence!”
Jia Zhen: “..”
Jia Zhen was momentarily stunned by this remark.
Reflecting on it, her expression froze, and the moonlight seemed to transform into a sea of melancholy, slowly engulfing her.
Overwhelmed with sorrow, Jia Zhen faintly recalled a time when she wasn’t a venomous woman but a bright and kind-hearted young lady.