However, the Crown Prince’s features hadn’t changed much. His palm-sized face was delicate like a young lady’s, with clear, bright eyes. His waist, slender as a willow, had grown straighter, giving him a more spirited appearance…

Feng Qiyuan approached the hall, lifted his robe, and performed his greeting with elegant, practiced movements. There was no sign he had been mistreated during his four years of confinement at the temporary palace.

Emperor Chunde looked at his long-neglected son, and his anger slightly subsided—Old Fourth had finally developed some masculine vigor, no longer walking with that swaying, soft manner.

It seemed these years of self-cultivation had some effect. Still, with lingering displeasure, he asked: “Why are you late? Have you harbored resentment against me these four years, feeling discontented? If you don’t wish to be here, just go back to the Eastern Palace.”

For a commoner’s son, having a temper with his father wouldn’t matter much. But for an imperial prince to harbor hatred toward his father would be suicidal!

Empress Tang silently drew in a sharp breath: This damned thing, causing trouble at such a critical moment—wouldn’t this ruin her plans?

The youth showed no panic. He raised his head, looking reverently at Emperor Chunde, and said: “Father, your son went to the Imperial Kitchen to make longevity noodles, which is why I was late for the ceremony. I request your punishment.”

Emperor Chunde noticed the flour staining his sleeve and laughed in exasperation: “Absurd! Is the Imperial Kitchen of my Dafeng Dynasty incapable of serving a bowl of noodles without you?”

As he spoke, muffled laughter arose from below. The Third Prince’s laughter was particularly loud: “That suits him! Making noodles? Why not just smear himself with flour and perform a waist-twisting opera for Father Emperor!”

Empress Tang grew uncomfortable and quickly smoothed things over: “Being late is being late. Apologize to your father at once! What kind of excuse is this?”

“Feng Qiyuan” gazed earnestly at Emperor Chunde and continued his greeting: “I was previously unaware of the Dafeng custom where children personally make noodles to celebrate their father’s birthday. Later, I heard about it from an elderly eunuch at the temporary palace and learned its deeper meaning. Making smooth, elastic noodle dough requires hundreds of kneadings and thousands of foldings. How many truly understand this labor? As I learned to make noodles with him, I gained profound insight—how is raising children not equally laborious for parents? Your son has been unruly, causing Your Majesty trouble. For four years, I couldn’t fulfill my filial duties at your knee, and I constantly repent. Without time to prepare a valuable birthday gift, I decided to personally make a bowl of longevity noodles, praying for Your Majesty’s health and long life. Please don’t disdain your son’s crude skills.”

As he spoke, he took a tray from a eunuch who had accompanied him from the Imperial Kitchen. On it was a gold-rimmed deep bowl containing noodles in golden broth, topped with minced meat.

The elder ministers nearby quickly smoothed things over, confirming that such customs indeed existed among commoners. The Crown Prince personally making noodles showed a commendable heart. Though he was late, it was forgivable.

Unexpectedly, Old Fourth, who previously couldn’t be forced to speak up even if beaten with three sticks, now spoke quite eloquently.

However… he hadn’t improved much at all! From leaving the opera stage, he had merely gone to the kitchen!

Emperor Chunde grunted and ordered the noodles to be presented: Fine! He would perfunctorily taste a bite, giving the pleading elder ministers some face.

After the eunuch tested with a silver needle, the Emperor expressionlessly examined the bowl, picked up his chopsticks, and tasted a strand.

Recently, the Han River had flooded, causing widespread starvation and occasional rebellions. Emperor Chunde was troubled and had a poor appetite. The palace banquet featured mostly ceremonial cold dishes stipulated by the Ministry of Rites, which looked filling just by sight.

However… these ordinary-looking noodles, once tasted, had a flavor quite different from the usual palace seasonings. They carried a rich, numbing fragrance that immediately stimulated one’s appetite.

Emperor Chunde couldn’t help but take several more bites, even picking up his spoon to drink some of the broth. The warm, fresh soup warmed his heart.

At this, the consorts and princes were all somewhat dumbfounded.

Judging by His Majesty’s reaction, it didn’t seem feigned. Were the noodles truly that delicious?

Emperor Chunde set down his spoon and, pointing at the noodle soup, asked the eunuch who had come from the Imperial Kitchen: “This flavor is unique. Was it truly made personally by the Crown Prince?”

The eunuch hastily replied: “It was indeed made by the Crown Prince, Your Majesty. This servant watched him—from mixing the dough to preparing the broth and toppings, he did everything himself without any assistance.”

The Crown Prince’s sudden appearance in the Imperial Kitchen had startled the cooks. Given their low status, they dared not stop him and could only assign someone to watch closely, preventing any thoughts of regicide through poisoned food that might implicate them.

After the eunuch finished, “Feng Qiyuan” calmly continued: “Your son’s heart is with Father Emperor. I heard that in recent days, Your Majesty has been worrying about state affairs, and your stomach ailment has recurred. Your foolish son is incapable of sharing your burdens, so I could only make a bowl of warm noodles to soothe your stomach. This bowl contains Sichuan peppercorns from the Western Regions, excellent for stimulating the appetite, though their spicy flavor can irritate sensitive stomachs. By convention, the Imperial Kitchen staff reserves such stimulating spices for their use, not daring to add them to noble diets. Your son has consulted medical texts and found that this ingredient can warm the stomach and dispel cold if used in moderation. Thus, I boldly added some to let Father Emperor taste something novel.”

Hearing this, Emperor Chunde was finally somewhat moved.

In his youth, military service had caused him a stomach ailment that brought unbearable pain during flare-ups.

Once, during a family banquet, he suddenly fell ill. The princes and consorts knelt around him, weeping and calling out formulaic wishes for His Majesty’s recovery.

Only six-year-old Old Fourth, Feng Qiyuan, had timidly extended his thin, small arm toward the Emperor’s mouth: “Father, if the pain is unbearable, bite my hand. When Mother Empress disciplines me with her ruler for my poor studies, I bite my hand and it relieves much of the pain!”

Such childish innocence was truly endearing!

Now, so many years later, this son who had been confined for four full years bore no grudge and still remembered his old ailment.

Emperor Chunde sighed: This child, despite his thousand shortcomings, showed the same pure filial devotion he had as a small boy.

With this thought, the knot in their father-son relationship loosened considerably. He waved his hand: “You’ve shown consideration. However, as the heir to the nation, if you truly have a filial heart, you should devote yourself to state affairs in the future, not hover around the kitchen. That would be the real way to share your father’s burdens. Go sit beside your mother.”

At these words, everyone’s expressions subtly changed.

The Crown Prince had initially been confined for three years under the pretext of self-improvement due to his improper private conduct. During those three years, His Majesty, unwilling to see his sons compete for succession, had not lightly mentioned deposition. Yet it was generally acknowledged that the Crown Prince existed in name only.

This time, though the Crown Prince had been released for days, His Majesty had not actively summoned him, let alone shown any intent to involve him in governance. This indicated that the Crown Prince did not have His Majesty’s favor and was intentionally being sidelined.

Yet now, a bowl of noodle soup had caused Emperor Chunde to relent, seemingly planning to involve the Crown Prince in governance. This disrupted everyone’s calculations.

After paying his respects, the Crown Prince remained composed, rising gracefully to sit beside Empress Tang. He thoughtfully took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her brow: “Oh my, Mother Empress, are you warm? Why are you sweating so much? Would you like me to have a palace maid fan you?”

Empress Tang, shielding her face with her sleeve, glared fiercely at her: Was it the heat? That worthless girl had nearly frightened her soul out of her body!

Did this little girl think the imperial palace was some country gentry’s courtyard? Running off to make noodle soup?

Still unnerved, Empress Tang questioned in a low voice: “You’re not from the palace—how did you know His Majesty’s stomach ailment had flared up? And how did you find the Imperial Kitchen?”

“Feng Qiyuan” blinked innocently and replied: “That former Eastern Palace attendant Yu Shu told me! When she came to reminisce with me, I casually asked about His Majesty’s recent health, and she was quite forthcoming. My stomach isn’t good either. Whenever it acts up, my father makes me this tender meat noodle soup, soft and delicious, perfect for the stomach! Meeting His Majesty for the first time, I couldn’t come empty-handed. I had to show filial piety on behalf of the… I mean, show my filial piety! As for the Imperial Kitchen’s location… Song Ao, fearing I might get lost and expose myself, once showed me a palace map. While using the latrine, I discovered a small path outside the window leading directly to the Imperial Kitchen. If I’d informed Song Ao, she would have nagged and delayed me, so I calculated the time and jumped through the window to make a bowl of noodles. How was it? I wasn’t too late, was I?”

Empress Tang watched as the “Crown Prince” smiled happily, completely oblivious to the trouble caused. It was infuriating beyond words.

This twin sister of the Crown Prince—what had she been raised on? Though just a girl, her boldness exceeded the size of a pot lid!

Before the Empress could think further, the girl had already attentively delivered a chopstick of meat to her mouth, smiling and whispering: “On such a joyous day, Mother Empress, why keep such a stern face? Won’t that give us away? Your son remembers everything you instructed. Please relax, eat, and drink as you should! But the palace dishes aren’t very good, are they? Not even as substantial as the banquets at rural gentry homes! Each dish is so small—is the Imperial Kitchen embezzling silver? When I have time, I’ll help you investigate these palace rats…”

Empress Tang was a serious person. The real Feng Qiyuan had been raised to be timid as a mouse, hardly daring to breathe in her presence.

But this little girl, ignorant of her imposing manner, was unbridled and casual to an intolerable degree!

Not wanting to disrupt the situation, Empress Tang silently took a deep breath. She now eagerly anticipated the upcoming horse race, hoping the little girl would break her neck. This Crown Prince chess piece—better discarded!

However, today’s birthday celebration program differed from usual. After the palace banquet, instead of the horse race, a wrestling match had been added.

Wrestling matches typically feature a champion defending his position.

Today’s main contender was the Third Prince, most skilled in martial arts among the princes. As a champion, he could accept others’ challenges or issue challenge tokens, inviting people to compete with him.

Looking at the burly Third Prince, the other princes turned their gazes away, pretending to socialize, unwilling to embarrass themselves on stage.

Usually, understanding military officials or guards would help by voluntarily going on stage to be defeated, becoming the Third Prince Feng Qiwu’s vanquished opponents.

But today, the Third Prince had pent-up anger and threw a token onto the frail Crown Prince’s table: “Crown Prince, how is merely making a bowl of noodles showing filial piety? Condescend to come on stage and compete with me, warming up the atmosphere for Father Emperor’s birthday celebration!”

Empress Tang raised her eyes to stare at Consort Shang and her son. Both wore smiles, seemingly unsurprised.

Something was wrong! Empress Tang suddenly understood.

Worthy of being rivals for over ten years—she and Consort Shang had thought alike.

But hatefully, Consort Shang had acted first, arranging the wrestling match before the horse race, using the brutish Third Prince to disrupt her plans. They must have heard about the Crown Prince’s leg ailment and wanted to test the truth…

The Dafeng Dynasty valued martial prowess. On such occasions, even as Crown Prince, one could not decline a challenge. The Third Prince was on bad terms with the Crown Prince and would certainly not show restraint. Even without a leg injury, the Crown Prince might be seriously injured by that brute…

She wanted to intervene, but that little girl, not knowing the depth of trouble, had already cheerfully accepted!

Empress Tang was extremely annoyed—Well then, since this chess piece wasn’t very obedient, let it be discarded!