Tonghuan and Xiao You exchanged glances. Though it was normal for a son to miss his mother, this son was a bit too old and had just become a father himself—propriety still needed to be observed.

Xiao You, knowing the situation, stepped forward and called out, “Young master, the ground is cold. Please rise! Kneeling like this… isn’t proper.”

However, being of low status, he completely ignored her. She turned to look at Tonghuan, making a throat-slitting gesture and pointing at the ground, asking how to handle this. Tonghuan shook her head, telling her not to interfere, and became a silent wooden post herself, observing with eyes, nose, and heart.

Wanwan had no choice but to smile and say, “This child! You’ve become a father yourself—how can you still act this way? I know you saying you miss me is false, missing home is true. When your father returns, I’ll speak with him about not sending you to Xuzhou anymore, keeping you in Jinling to look after family affairs.”

He didn’t speak or release his grip, simultaneously despising his own confusion while enjoying this stolen moment of tranquility.

Her skirts carried a faint, delicate fragrance, just as in his memories. He had once been extremely attached to this scent. That time when he and Lan Ting fell into the water together, she cared for him day and night, and this fragrance took root. Whenever he caught it, he would remember her face in springtime. He couldn’t clearly define his feelings for her—only that he wanted to be close. The more Father prevented it, the more he yearned. He had thought leaving this place of trouble would help, but it was useless. Excessive suppression only intensified desire. Later, closing his eyes would conjure her image—she was like a beam of light, an undeniably prominent presence. He felt this was how a princess should be. He admired her; even if Daye perished, she would remain standing. He would guard her with his entire life.

Unfortunately, he was born eight years too late and could never catch up. After Father’s whipping last time, he thought he could forget all past events, but seeing her again, hearing her voice, all efforts crumbled instantly. His self-control was utterly useless before her. He could only hide his private feelings well, and when emotions became uncontrollable, use familial affection as cover to secretly approach her a little—at least this wouldn’t provoke her disgust. Like now, he was both anxious and enjoying himself, imagining what would happen if Father returned and discovered them. What would happen… he didn’t know. At most, death perhaps. At least he now had an heir, so dying didn’t matter.

Kneeling before her, a thousand thoughts flashed through his mind—Wanwan knew none of this. She only smiled helplessly, truly feeling he hadn’t grown up yet, being forced into fatherhood reluctantly.

She stroked his hair. “Good child, I know your grievances have been bottled up inside without release. Are you still angry about Father beating you last time? What was the real reason for that incident? When I asked your father, he wouldn’t say. If you suffered injustice, you can tell Mother. Today is a happy day—little brother was born. With you looking like this, what can be done?”

But he shook his head. “Your son’s beating… was not unjust at all. Father was right to beat me, beat me well. If he had beaten me to death in one go, your son’s karmic debts would be cleared.”

He slowly bowed his head lower, assuming a humble posture with his forehead touching her toe tips. Wanwan truly didn’t understand what was wrong with him. Thinking it over, he must have suffered hardships outside but was too embarrassed to tell the family, only able to throw tantrums before her.

She sighed. Such conflicts between father and son were difficult for her to intervene in. She still remembered when her elder brother contradicted Father with one sentence and was hung beneath the Xuanyuan Mirror in Qianqing Palace. When the Empress Dowager went to plead for him, Father even kicked her. Especially since this child wasn’t her biological son—some untouchable secrets in his heart he might not be willing to tell her.

But she couldn’t bear seeing him so dejected. She bent down to lift his arms, saying gently, “Brother, today must be joyful. Have you named little brother yet? Right now the young princess consort must want to see you. Let’s go look, shall we?”

He had prostrated himself for quite a while, seemingly in no hurry to see wife and son. Wanwan looked back at Tonghuan and Xiao You with a worried frown—they were also helpless, blinking awkwardly at her. She suddenly understood. “You have something to tell me, don’t you? Inconvenient with outsiders present?” She immediately dismissed all attendants. “There, everyone’s gone. You needn’t avoid anything—say whatever you want.”

He finally stood up, hands hanging at his sides, glancing at her sheepishly. “Mother…”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, speak.”

The young man in lamplight was simply a smaller version of Liang Shi—like father, like son. This saying found perfect proof in the Yuwen household. Watching his hesitant manner, Wanwan saw he only acted childlike at home. So when he stammered, asking if she missed him, she naturally nodded yes.

“You’ve grown up without ever leaving home, then suddenly had to join the military—how could I not worry? Are you accustomed to everything there now? In my opinion, returning would be better. Even at Xinjiang Harbor would be closer than Xuzhou.”

She spoke warmly, her gentle, subtle tone and expression showing a princess’s compassion. The closer he stood, the more he felt his remaining dignity couldn’t support him. His eyes stung, growing hot—how could thousands of words be spoken? Hearing her say she also missed him brought sudden salvation—at least his defeat wasn’t complete.

Liking her, he couldn’t defile her. He stepped back, becoming respectful and obedient again. “Mother needn’t worry. In Xuzhou, your son has Sixth Uncle’s care and everything goes smoothly. When your son first joined the military, he could only lead fifty men. Now he commands five hundred. Your son will learn proper skills and protect Mother’s safety in the future. Please watch over your son, Mother.”

Her gaze flowed like water, gently and slowly across his face. “If you achieve success, your father will also be gratified. Don’t think he treats you harshly—it’s also for your sake. You’re young and bound to make mistakes sometimes. Since he’s a father, he has the responsibility to guide you. Don’t resent him.”

She tried to mediate, unwilling for father and son to harbor grudges. But she had no idea everything stemmed from her—only because she was too wonderful.

He smiled and bowed in agreement. Then stepping aside slightly, he gestured. “Mother, please go see your grandson. Your son gave him a childhood name—Dong Li. As for his formal name, Father must be troubled to decide that.”

He led the way with a lamp, guiding her into the young mistress’s birthing chamber.

Yun Wan had just given birth and was already asleep. Wanwan saw she was unharmed and went to see the child. Little brother lay in the wet nurse’s arms, his small red face wrinkled like when Jin Shu first entered the palace, eyes closed, only knowing to burrow into the nurse’s bodice.

She lowered her voice to ask Tala Shi, “Are the young mistress and brother both well?”

Tala Shi affirmed. “Thanks to Your Highness’s great fortune, all is well.”

Wanwan took the golden locket and gently placed it on little brother’s swaddling. “This adds fortune and prosperity for Dong Li. When he’s bigger, he can wear it—he’s too small now…” She extended a finger to lovingly touch his small face. “What a good child.” She looked back at Lan Zhou. “His eyes and brows are like his father’s.”

Lan Zhou’s face reddened, then became dejected again. “Great-grandmother has already come to see him. It’s late—your son will escort Mother back.”

She also feared disturbing mother and child, so she agreed, moving quietly as she withdrew from the main chamber.

The moon shone brilliantly overhead. September nights had grown quite cool. Looking up at the horizon, cloud wisps thin as gauze drifted ethereally, seeming ready to scatter with a breath. She tucked her hands away, sighing. “Time passes so quickly—just a few short years, and I already have a grandson.”

He accompanied her, asking softly, “When Mother first entered the household, did you dislike Father having sons?”

She thought a moment and nodded yes. “Who would want their husband to share half himself with others? If I could have chosen, I might not have chosen your father… But now I feel this arrangement isn’t bad either. In the future, Prince Nanyuan’s mansion will depend on you to maintain it. Without you, your father and I would be anxious.”

He knew she referred to her own childlessness. She was perfect in all respects except this incompleteness. While feeling sorry for her, he secretly rejoiced. Once she had her own child, her heart probably would never be as pure as now. Let him be selfish—unable to hope for more, just to be her son and never change.

Passing Yanwan Lake, the lotus leaves had all withered after winter’s arrival, presenting infinite desolation under moonlight. He suddenly said, “The war to pacify the northern frontier won’t be easy. The court lacks power to respond—it looks like Andong Guard’s garrison troops will be mobilized. Your son plans to volunteer, following the great army on campaign. After New Year we’ll set out. By the time we reach Guangning Guard, that region’s climate should be warming, and then we can display our abilities, thoroughly defeating those restless barbarian captives.”

Hearing him speak of military campaigns, Wanwan stumbled, nearly falling. With quick reflexes, he turned to catch her, welcoming her tumble into his embrace.

To have such a moment in one’s lifetime, however brief, was enough to savor for life. As if possessed, he held her. “Is Mother all right?”

She said she was fine. “I stepped on my skirt.” Steadying herself, she suddenly realized this was highly improper. Embarrassed, she pushed him away, laughing. “Mother is getting old—my legs aren’t nimble anymore. Fortunately you were here, or I’d have taken another fall.”

She dissolved the situation calmly—he didn’t know if she had detected his disrespectful thoughts. He began regretting intensely. He clearly could have simply steadied her with his hand—why had he played such tricks?

Trembling with fear, he changed the subject. “If war breaks out, Mother should return to the prince’s mansion for mutual support.”

She had the depot guards and feared living anywhere. But hearing of impending war, she worried not only for him but also for Liang Shi.

Xinjiang Harbor was some distance from Nanjing. Liang Shi only returned at noon the next day, first glancing at his grandson before returning to mutter with Wanwan. “Looking at this child, doesn’t he seem deficient somehow? His breathing is labored—wasn’t he born from a cow?”

Wanwan laughed at his words. “What kind of grandfather are you, speaking of your own grandson this way! Both his parents are only fourteen—children having children inevitably results in weakness. Besides, he just arrived—what can you tell? Even if there are deficiencies, gradual care will improve things.”

He had just changed clothes and stood before the mirror turning to look at himself. She adjusted his undergarment and led him to the writing desk, taking a wolf-hair brush from the stand and pressing it into his hand. “Please, grandfather, bestow a name. Think of a good name for our Dong Li.”

He probably had been considering this already. Using a paperweight to smooth the gold-flecked paper, he lifted the brush and wrote the character “Zhan.” “In cold garments following orchid’s end, water and wood shine with clear splendor. Let’s call him Zhan.”

Wanwan happily repeated it twice, taking the gold paper to call a maid outside. “Send this to the young master’s courtyard. Little brother has a name—Yuwen Zhan.”

The inner quarters’ years were forever so tranquil. He watched her standing beneath the eaves with such magnanimous, selfless expression, couldn’t help feeling various emotions.

Returning from outside, covered in travel dust, seeing her and resting briefly would draw out his lazy, slack nature. He craved that comfort, but things had reached a point where he couldn’t delay—subordinates were already waiting in his study. He held brush and ink, but his heart blazed with war’s fire. Some things were destined to happen. At this critical juncture, like an arrow on the string, circumstances forced advancement. He had been constantly busy lately, but productively so, resolving all debatable issues. Whether infantry, cavalry, or navy—this entire southern region had fallen into his hands. Now everything was prepared; as long as someone in court provided the slightest excuse, Nanyuan’s great army could march northward.

For ambitious men, empire was like toys to persistent children—to obtain it, any price could be paid.

He entered his study as his generals swept their arrow sleeves with mountain-like sounds. With the heroic determination of battlefield conquest, he moved through the crowd, his gaze circling each face. “Gentlemen, Nanyuan has lain dormant for over two hundred years. Finally, our time to display great abilities has arrived. The Nu’ergan Regional Military Commission rebels, and the court faces internal troubles and external threats—already thrown into confusion. Yesterday the cabinet issued edicts commanding Andong Guard to deploy two hundred thousand troops to defend Guangning Guard. How these two hundred thousand troops deploy is entirely for us to decide.”

The sand table showed layered mountains—a miniature empire. He pointed to Beijing’s position while arranging forces. “To battle Sacha River Guard, the capital is a necessary route. Nu’ergan’s war requires pacification, but the capital cannot be left unguarded. The court only designated two hundred thousand men, but from Nanyuan to Andong Guard’s line, I have five hundred thousand elite troops. When the time comes, we’ll feign accepting imperial orders while swarming out in full force. The army can divide into two routes—one to stabilize borders, one to drive straight through and occupy Beijing. I’ve memorialized the court requesting battle assignment. I don’t yet know if the emperor will approve, but there’s no turning back once the bow is drawn. This northern campaign is imperative. Please, gentlemen, take the vanguard and assist me. When all under heaven submit in the future, I’ll share the empire with you all.”

These words carried towering heroism. He had concealed his abilities all these years—unless absolutely certain, he would never speak lightly. His longtime supporters had been awaiting this day’s arrival; his words were military orders. Everyone was overjoyed, armor clanging as they knelt in unison, clasping fists. “We servants will be crushed to pieces, awaiting master’s commands.”

Planning for empire, rather than personal ambition, was more accurately ancestral aspiration. The Qi people were a horse-riding nation, galloping across heaven and earth like soaring eagles, never willing to be constrained. Two hundred sixty years ago, the Central Plains emperor expended great effort corralling them, yet Qi people’s fierce nature couldn’t be extinguished—they still yearned for vast skies, for conquering all directions.

Being slaves to others, how could it compare to freely ruling as king? This was their ancestors’ creed. But such a massive empire, once its foundation was established, proved extremely difficult to overturn. Since there was no hope, only one word remained: wait! So they waited a full two hundred sixty years. Now that the time was ripe, he knew action was needed—further waiting would lead to decay. This corrupt empire and court needed fresh minds to control it. Those desiring kingship were numerous; he was merely the most patient with solitude, most resilient against setbacks. Through past years of storms and upheavals in Nanyuan, he had endured everything by gritting his teeth. Only Wanwan’s detention remained something he couldn’t release. A gentleman’s revenge might take ten years, but he had gained all advantages of timing and geography. This time he would definitely drag Murong Gaogong from the throne, tear out his heart and liver, and sacrifice them to that child who never had the chance to be born.