The Empress gave birth smoothly to a son, bringing great joy to the entire court.

In Zhao Yun Palace, Ning Yin’s lips were cold and pale as he glanced at the wrinkled little life in the swaddling clothes, as if completing a task, then handed him over to the wet nurse and matron.

His gaze returned to Yu Ling Xi’s face as he took a bowl of chicken puree porridge from the palace maid and stirred it, saying hoarsely: “All right, I’ve seen him.”

Yu Ling Xi knew that Ning Yin wanted a daughter. If he could choose, he would unhesitatingly strangle his half of the bloodline and replace it entirely with his wife’s.

But this time, they had a son.

“Who does he look like?” She took a sip of porridge from Ning Yin’s hand, turning to look at the reddish infant in the wet nurse’s arms. “His eyebrows and features are like yours, but his lips are very much like mine.”

Ning Yin’s lips were rather thin, appearing somewhat unfriendly when he wasn’t smiling.

Hearing Yu Ling Xi’s comment, Ning Yin finally took a few more looks at his son. The small infant had a tiny dimple on his upper lip, indeed very similar to hers.

In truth, a newborn infant’s features haven’t fully developed, so it’s impossible to tell who they will resemble in the future. Yu Ling Xi deliberately spoke this way only to make Ning Yin look more at his son.

A son was quite good too.

She had lived two lifetimes but never had the opportunity to accompany Ning Yin during his dark childhood. To have a child who resembled Ning Yin to make up for this missing period, to watch him grow up safely and healthily together, was indeed a fortunate thing.

“Give him a name, all right?” Yu Ling Xi was exhausted, her voice gradually getting lower, her eyelids opening and closing as she said, “I’ll sleep for a while.”

Ning Yin put down the porridge bowl, supporting her shoulder with one hand while gently removing the pillow from behind her waist with the other, tucking in the bedding.

The wet nurse and matron dared not disobey and carried the infant to the side hall that had been prepared in advance to feed him.

Ning Yin lowered his gaze, methodically wiping away the sticky sweat from Yu Ling Xi’s body before tossing aside the cotton cloth and leaning forward to pick up a brush.

When Yu Ling Xi awoke, Ning Yin had already gone to morning court.

On the table was a piece of gold-sprinkled red paper, with about ten characters written in forceful strokes, obviously from Ning Yin’s hand.

“These names were all thought up by His Majesty last night after Your Majesty fell asleep,” Hu Tao helped Yu Ling Xi sit up, taking out clothes to wrap around her, whispering, “Your Majesty’s words are all kept in His Majesty’s heart.”

It was only from Hu Tao that Yu Ling Xi learned that during her first childbirth, which lasted the entire night, Ning Yin had stood outside the hall the whole night.

Yu Ling Xi had forbidden him to come close during the birth, so he truly refrained from approaching.

“He didn’t hurt himself, did he?” Yu Ling Xi asked.

Her childbirth had been difficult, and she feared that Ning Yin, that madman, might cut himself to “empathize” with her pain.

She knew Ning Yin was entirely capable of doing so.

“No, His Majesty just stood there,” Hu Tao said. Every time she opened the hall door to call for the matron to bring water, she would see His Majesty’s dark eyes brighten, looking straight into the hall with its swaying gauze curtains.

He wore the frost of the autumn night, his feet nailed to the spot, but his body slightly leaning forward, as if struggling to break free from some restraint to accompany his wife.

Hu Tao had always been afraid of Ning Yin because his heart was too hard and cold as if nothing in the world could shatter him. But on the night of the birth, she suddenly discovered that the ruthless, proud Emperor had a soft spot.

Listening to Hu Tao’s chatter about these things, Yu Ling Xi’s gaze softened with a smile, and all the hardship and fatigue found comfort in this moment.

She picked up a brush, moistened it with ink, and circled one character “Rong” among the dozen or so characters.

“Oh, why did Your Majesty choose this character?” Hu Tao asked.

“‘The sea embraces a hundred rivers; with tolerance comes greatness.’ I hope my son will grow up to be a person with a broad heart.” Yu Ling Xi thought for a moment, then added another character next to “Rong”: “This is his pet name.”

In the court, the officials were even happier than if they had had sons themselves, planning ceremonies to honor Heaven and the ancestors, and suggesting an amnesty throughout the realm.

Ning Yin found their noise irritating and directly left the court to return to Zhao Yun Palace.

Yu Ling Xi was holding the infant, resting on the couch, her half-scattered hair softly falling to her waist, gentle and beautiful.

Seeing Ning Yin enter, she looked up with a smile: “You’re back? Little An just fell asleep.”

“Little An?” Ning Yin raised the corner of his eye, glancing at the “little monster” whose eyes were squeezed into two slits in sleep.

“The pet name I gave him. The ‘An’ from peace and safety, and also the ‘An’ from ‘Sui Sui chang An ning’ (May you be safe and at peace year after year).”

Yu Ling Xi said this with a light smile at the corners of her mouth.

Ning Yin lowered his gaze.

When he first saw this little creature born into the world, he didn’t feel much.

He still couldn’t love this child; he was a cold-blooded, indifferent person who couldn’t allow a third life to come between him and Sui Sui. But the little monster was born after Sui Sui carried him for ten months, so he would try to understand and then accept.

Now that Yu Ling Xi had embedded their sweetest memory into the little monster’s pet name, that blood-connected “kinship” began to take on some vague outline.

“It would be more appropriate to call him ‘a little monster,'” he snorted lightly, expressionlessly poking the infant’s soft cheek. “He looks so ugly.”

Yu Ling Xi laughed: “He was just born! He’ll look better in a few days.”

On this point, Yu Ling Xi was quite confident. No matter how the features of her and Ning Yin’s child blended, they couldn’t be too bad.

Yu Ling Xi began to have breast engorgement, painful enough to keep her from sleeping.

Ning Yin was already a light sleeper; as soon as Yu Ling Xi turned over, he woke up.

Meeting Ning Yin’s dark eyes, Yu Ling Xi felt somewhat apologetic and said softly: “Go back to sleep, I’ll go ask the matron to come and massage.”

Ning Yin pressed her waist, not letting her leave.

“Tell me how to do it,” he said.

Understanding his meaning, Yu Ling Xi was stunned for a good while before saying in a low voice: “How can that work? In an hour, you still have to attend morning court…”

But Ning Yin simply didn’t listen to her, reaching out a long, strong arm from behind the bed curtain to grab his outer garment that had been removed by the bed, and wrapped it around Yu Ling Xi’s shoulders.

Yu Ling Xi couldn’t argue with him and had to give in.

Ning Yin massaged very carefully, his half-lowered eyelashes casting a shadow in his eyes, making his emotions unreadable. Despite this, Yu Ling Xi still produced fine sweat, gripping the bedding beneath her.

After a while, Ning Yin placed a filled white jade bowl to the side and brought a wet cloth for a cold compress. Then he lowered his head, lightly and earnestly kissing and licking the painful area.

The candlelight was dim yellow, casting two hazy silhouettes.

When Ning Rong was one year old, he could already call for his parents. Yu Ling Xi’s daily pleasure was to make her son talk, like coaxing a parrot.

Occasionally, when Ning Yin came to see her after finishing state affairs, he would never stay more than half an hour before impatiently picking up his son and taking him away, then turning back to close the hall door and taking Yu Ling Xi into his arms.

Yu Ling Xi, tickled by his breath, laughed and said: “If you have time, could you help me look after Little An?”

Yu Ling Xi knew that Ning Yin still couldn’t accept Ning Rong taking up too much of her time, even if he was his son.

She might as well take this opportunity to cultivate the relationship between father and son.

The next day after court, Ning Yin indeed kept his promise and took Ning Rong to the Floating Light Palace.

Yu Ling Xi contentedly exhaled, watching Ning Yin carry his son out of Zhao Yun Gate, before instructing the matron: “Follow them and keep an eye out.”

In Floating Light Palace, memorials were piled like mountains.

Ning Yin entered the door holding Ning Rong with one arm and placing his son on the dragon desk.

They stared at each other, looking exactly like large and small versions of the same person. Ning Yin frowned, looked around, and his gaze fell on a nearby round porcelain vat.

The vat was about knee-high with a wide opening, just large enough to hold a small child.

He pulled out the scrolls and paintings from inside, placed his son in it, covered him with an outer robe for warmth, and then sat down to read the memorials.

Ning Rong stayed by himself for a while, and seeing that his father wasn’t speaking to him, he unsteadily stood up, holding the edge of the vat, and reached out his chubby little hand for the memorials on the desk.

He leaned too forcefully, causing the porcelain vat to sway back and forth, finally toppling over with a thud.

The attendants in the hall watched in terror, wanting to come forward to help but not daring to act on their initiative, secretly sweating in fear.

Ning Yin, supporting his temple, didn’t even raise his eyes, allowing his son, encased in the porcelain vat, to roll a complete, smooth circle.

When the Minister of Revenue came in for an audience to report his duties, he saw a porcelain vat containing the young prince, bizarrely and contentedly rolling back and forth in the hall.

The minister, unable to bear it, took the opportunity while kneeling to extend a trembling hand and set the vat upright.

With a thud, the porcelain vat finally quieted down, and everyone’s hearts settled with it.

The child couldn’t sit still and grabbed the sleeve of the Minister of Revenue’s official robe, playing with it curiously.

After the Minister of Revenue finished reporting important matters, the little ancestor still showed no sign of letting go, so he had to look pleadingly toward the young emperor: “Your Majesty, this…”

Only then did Ning Yin look up, taking the paper cutter from the desk and making a slash.

After the sound of tearing fabric, the sleeve-less Minister of Revenue left the great hall with relief.

In Zhao Yun Palace, Yu Ling Xi had taken a comfortable midday nap.

She leisurely completed her grooming, just preparing to go out to retrieve her son, when she saw the matron who had been sent to keep watch return with a distressed face, saying: “Your Majesty, please go quickly to see the young prince!”

“What happened?” Yu Ling Xi stood up and said, “His Majesty has his limits, he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate…”

Before she could finish, she saw Ning Yin in his deep red imperial casual attire, carrying something in one hand as he returned in the slanting sunlight.

When he entered the courtyard, Yu Ling Xi discovered that what he was carrying was their son.

“…right?” Yu Ling Xi completed her sentence with a mixture of tears and laughter.

Three years later, Ning Rong was four years old.

This child was extremely intelligent; at an age when the Yu siblings were still playing with mud, he had already memorized his primer books thoroughly, learned everything quickly, and was smart and obedient, unlike a typical child.

Except for one thing: he wasn’t very close to Ning Yin.

One day, when Yu Ling Xi found Ning Rong catching a grasshopper, holding it in his hand and plucking its wings and legs one by one, then watching it struggle futilely on the ground, she finally realized something was wrong.

“Without its limbs, it can’t embrace its children anymore, which is quite pitiful,” Yu Ling Xi didn’t stop or scold him but instead crouched down to watch the legless, wingless grasshopper with her son. “If Mother’s hands were also pulled off by someone, what would Little An do?”

“Then I would stick them back on,” Ning Rong’s voice was childish as he pursed his lips, picked up the torn insect legs, and tried to stick them back.

Naturally, it was futile, and he began to panic.

Yu Ling Xi stroked her son’s little head and told him: “Living creatures are not like clothing that can be sewn if torn. Some damage, once done, will exist forever.”

Ning Rong hung his head and said quietly: “Your child understands.”

“Wash your hands,” Yu Ling Xi smiled gently. “Let’s go find Father Emperor to play.”

Ning Rong dug a hole, buried the grasshopper, and said glumly: “Your child won’t go.”

“Why?” Yu Ling Xi was somewhat surprised.

“Father Emperor doesn’t like me.”

The childish words fell heavily in Yu Ling Xi’s heart.

That night before bed, Yu Ling Xi told Ning Yin about what had happened during the day.

She thought for a moment, leaned against Ning Yin’s shoulder, and asked him: “Ning Yin if you had the chance to go back to the past, what would you say to your childhood self?”

How could Ning Yin not be clever? Of course, he understood what Sui Sui meant.

He could no longer change the past, but he could change Ning Rong.

Ning Yin didn’t know how to express himself.

All the kindness in his life had been given to Sui Sui, and Little An, only had a transferred affection of loving the house for the sake of its occupant.

“Sleep,” he said nonchalantly, pinching Yu Ling Xi’s nape.

The next day, Yu Ling Xi awoke from the dawn to hear rustling sounds from the courtyard.

She curiously put on her clothes and got out of bed. Going outside, she saw Ning Yin and Ning Rong sitting opposite each other under the red leaves in front of Zhao Yun Palace, each holding a dagger to carve bamboo strips.

On the stone table nearby were paste, fish line, and other items.

The two figures, large and small, moved in unison like reflections in a mirror, a pleasing sight.

Seeing her come out, Ning Rong’s eyes finally lit up with childish joy: “Mother! Look!”

He held up the crooked bamboo strips he had tied together.

Yu Ling Xi walked over with a suppressed smile, her gold-embroidered dress trailing with dazzling brightness in the sunlight, as she gently reminded: “Don’t hurt yourself…”

“If he cuts his finger, he’ll learn the lesson himself,” Ning Yin softened his tone, bent his finger to point at the space beside him, “Sit.”

So Yu Ling Xi sat down, propping her chin, watching father and son busy at work.

Ning Yin taught Little An to make an azure phoenix kite.

It was the same kite that Concubine Li had viciously pulled down and trampled when he was a child, and also the kite that Yu Ling Xi had personally flown with him—carrying his two memories from darkness to light.

Now, he was teaching it to Little An.

The kites wobbled up into the sky, one large and one small; one delicate and beautiful, one rough and childish.

“Father Emperor, mine is flying higher than yours!” The child was proud, his beautiful black eyes full of sunlight, having already forgotten yesterday’s solitude and depression.

Ning Yin pulled the fish line casually, mercilessly mocking him: “Yours is made too poorly; it will fall sooner or later.”

Ning Rong was not convinced and began running all over the palace with his short legs, with palace people swarming to follow him, carefully protecting him.

He ran so fast, without the cold darkness, without walls that didn’t let in air, without anything that could restrain or stop his steps.

Yu Ling Xi smiled and buried her head in Ning Yin’s embrace, tightly holding his waist.

Ning Rong had many things, but Ning Yin only had Sui Sui.

Ning Yin seemed to sense Yu Ling Xi’s subtle emotional fluctuation.

He pulled the fish line with one hand and opened the other, taking the opportunity to draw her into his arms.

“I’m treating him well for a purpose,” Ning Yin’s handsome face was bathed in sunlight, his voice returning to its usual leisurely tone. “Send the little monster away, and Sui Sui will be mine.”

With that, he released the fish line, and the reel spun rapidly, sending the kite flying higher and higher.

Yu Ling Xi’s body suddenly rose into the air, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Ning Yin’s neck to maintain balance, asking: “What are you doing?”

“Unblocking the milk.”

“…” Yu Ling Xi glared at him. “Little An is four years old; he’s been weaned for three years!”

“Oh, other places can be unblocked too.”

Seeing Yu Ling Xi so angry that she stood on tiptoe, Ning Yin began to laugh deeply.

The hall door closed, shaking down a few maple leaves. The phoenix kite flew higher and higher, becoming a brilliant spot in the azure sky.

…

In the ninth year of Sui An’s reign, seven-year-old Ning Rong was named Crown Prince.

For an emperor in the prime of his life to establish a crown prince was unprecedented. Several overly concerned civil officials sighed, saying things like “the late Emperor’s thin lineage was what caused many disturbances”…

The implication was hoping the Emperor would have a few more children, so there would be more choices when establishing an heir in the future.

But as Ning Rong grew up, the court’s concerns gradually dissipated. For no other reason than that the Crown Prince was too excellent!

He inherited his father’s intelligence and decisiveness, yet was not as gloomy and cold as his father. At a young age, he already had a clear grasp of court affairs, and knew when to be strict and when to be lenient—truly the model of a wise ruler.

In the seventeenth year of Sui An’s reign, the fifteen-year-old Crown Prince began to participate in governance, gaining widespread support.

In the nineteenth year of Sui An’s reign, the Emperor abdicated the throne to the Crown Prince and moved with the Empress to a detached palace.

On the day they left the palace, it was a clear and beautiful day in March.

On the palace walls, six vibrant young people stood shoulder to shoulder.

Yu Yu blinked her glassy, bright eyes and asked: “Will Aunt ever come back?”

“Yes,” Yu Jin smiled slightly and answered.

Ning Kai patted Ning Rong’s shoulder quite generously, smiling to reveal a small tiger tooth: “What are you afraid of? We’re here to keep His Majesty company.”

Zhou Shui and Yu Li were only twelve or thirteen, still young, and only vaguely understood as they watched their older siblings.

Under the clear sky, the six young people on the palace wall clasped hands in a pact.

Civil officials and military generals, with the spirit to swallow mountains and rivers. From now on, they would mold the mountains and rivers like clay, creating a peaceful world of their own.

…

In the detached palace, idle clouds and wild cranes passed over the reflection in the pond.

The pear blossoms by the pavilion were in full bloom, piled like snow and clouds.

“Wei Qi, shall we go elsewhere?” Yu Ling Xi moved closer to blow away the fallen flowers all over Ning Yin, smiling as she said, “Though these flowers are beautiful, they’re annoying when they fall on you.”

Ning Yin caressed the rim of his wine cup, saying in a low voice: “Come here, your husband will clean Sui Sui thoroughly.”

Seeing him smile like that, Yu Ling Xi knew he was up to no good.

Just as she was about to avoid him, he grabbed her waist.

The man lowered his head, using his lips to pick the fallen flowers off her one by one.

The wind blew the pear blossoms, white petals flying everywhere, falling into their matching cups, creating faint ripples.

Clouds drifted leisurely, and time stretched long.