Zhan Qingcheng found the woman before him utterly absurd. When had he ever said such things?

Empress Rong had truly lost all composure today — in all her years in the palace, she had never been like this.

Had she known from the start that the little boy of those days would grow only more magnetic and irresistible with each passing year, that his face and bearing would become so devastatingly alluring, she never should have refused him back then!

“A’Jiu, have you forgotten? Back then, you were a child of four or five. You fell ill with fever in the night, and the Empress Dowager was herself unwell, so this One looked after you through the night.”

“That night, you held onto this One and begged her to take you away, saying you did not want to stay in this place. But at the time…”

The Empress was now so consumed with regret that it was as if her very insides were turning green. How could she have known that the small boy of those days would grow up to become the most breathtakingly handsome, all-powerful Prince Shezheng in all the realm?

Zhan Qingcheng’s expression remained placid and unmoved. Setting aside the fact that he had not even the faintest recollection of this event — even if it had truly occurred, could the feverish words of a four-year-old child be taken seriously?

“A’Jiu…”

“I merely mistook the Empress for my Imperial Mother.”

“This One was in the full bloom of youth back then — how could this One possibly have been mistaken for the Empress Dowager?” Impossible — she could not accept this explanation under any circumstances!

She was a woman of striking beauty in her prime; how could she be spoken of in the same breath as the aged Empress Dowager?

“In the eyes of a four-year-old child, even the Empress, young as she was then, was still of an age to be someone’s mother!”

Zhan Qingcheng swept out his long sleeve, about to have Yu Jingfeng see the guest out — when from beyond the door came the faint, suppressed sound of someone stifling a cough.

That girl…

“Come in.”

The Empress had been seething and on the verge of fury at the words “of an age to be someone’s mother” — when, of all things, someone outside had been eavesdropping!

Watching Feng Jiu’er saunter in with an unhurried, leisurely air, she clenched her fists, and every drop of her resentment poured in an instant onto Jiu’er.

“How dare you eavesdrop on this One and the Prince Shezheng’s private discussion! Guards — drag her out and have her beaten to death!”

Two guards immediately burst in from outside, both personal attendants of the Empress.

But when they caught the Ninth Prince’s cold, indifferent gaze sweeping over them, both men’s spines went rigid at once, and neither dared to take another step forward.

Feng Jiu’er darted swiftly to Zhan Qingcheng’s side and ducked behind him: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, Jiu’er is frightened!”

“Don’t be afraid.” Zhan Qingcheng’s cool gaze landed on the Empress, instantly quenching several degrees of her blazing fury.

What infuriated her was that Feng Jiu’er dared approach A’Jiu — dared to grab A’Jiu’s sleeve!

Yet with Zhan Qingcheng’s eyes upon her, her heart fluttered like a peach blossom opening in bloom, shy and sweet.

Feng Jiu’er peeked at her, and couldn’t help wanting to laugh: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, what does ‘of an age to be someone’s mother’ mean? Is the Empress Ninth Imperial Uncle’s mother?”

What?! She — A’Jiu’s mother?!

That wretched little servant! She… she had wanted to become A’Jiu’s wife!

Between “mother” and “wife,” there was but a single character’s difference — and yet the two were worlds apart, as different as heaven and earth!

“You little—”

“The Empress is this Prince’s elder sister-in-law. A sister-in-law is like a mother — so she could be considered half a mother.”

Toward this seemingly foolish Feng Jiu’er, Zhan Qingcheng was uncommonly patient — he was even willing to explain the reasoning to her.

Empress Rong, standing nearby, was so furious her fingertips went rigid, her entire body trembling.

With a third party now present, she could hardly continue saying what she wished — yet the gaze she kept on Zhan Qingcheng was still as tender as still water.

“A’Jiu, what this One said today still stands. Whenever you are willing — this One will be waiting.”

There was nothing more she could say; they were no longer alone. But to her astonishment, Feng Jiu’er turned to look at Zhan Qingcheng with a wide-eyed, guileless expression: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, is the Empress saying she wants to be your mother?”