But just as Empress Tang raised her hand, she forcibly lowered it again.

There was no way around it. This pawn was becoming increasingly important and couldn’t be discarded yet. If she could pacify the worthless girl with false maternal affection, it would save trouble!

With this thought, Empress Tang forced a slight smile and had Song Ao pour a cup of tea for the ravenously eating young woman before asking, “Old Ge will certainly test your literacy. Do you… know how to read and write?”

The young woman took a sip of tea, collapsed onto the cushions of the soft couch, and said with satisfaction, “I do. When performing in the opera troupe, one must be able to read scripts.”

Song Ao whispered, “The things she’s learned cannot compare to the Crown Prince, who began his education at four years old. Once she enters the study, she’s bound to be exposed…”

The young woman laughed first before Song Ao could finish: “Your Majesty, if I hadn’t overheard palace servants gossiping these past few days, I would have truly believed the Crown Prince was tremendously learned! Why would His Majesty despise him and confine him for four years if he were studious? In my opinion, his scholarship can’t be that impressive!”

Song Ao, seeing her impudence, moved to slap her mouth, but was stopped by the Empress: “Since you boast of some learning, then… write something for me to see.”

The girl didn’t hesitate. She rose and went to a nearby desk, waved for Song Ao to grind ink for her, then took up the brush and wrote out a passage from an opera script for the Empress.

Whether intentional or not, she had written a scene of young lovers meeting in secret. Folk operas emphasized vulgarity, and the lyrics were somewhat crude, making the Empress’s aged face gradually flush as she couldn’t help glaring fiercely at the girl.

However, the handwriting was indeed pleasing and forceful. According to the girl, she had once worked in a private school preparing meals, had spent time in scholarly environments, and was literate, having put in some effort.

But the handwriting style differed considerably from the Crown Prince’s, so the Empress had Song Ao bring the Crown Prince’s previous assignments and asked the young woman to try copying them.

Before long, the young woman had managed to achieve a seventy percent resemblance, which again surprised the Empress, who wondered how she had accomplished this.

The girl smiled indifferently: “I used to do aging account work for neighborhood shopkeepers, which required imitating their handwriting, so I’ve developed the skill.”

This young woman, despite her tender age, had already mingled among all walks of life and had learned some tricks. Fortunately, these talents were now being used in the Empress’s service.

However, after putting down the brush, the girl made a bold request, asking if she could meet the real Crown Prince.

Actors excel at imitation, and only by seeing the original person could she capture the essence. The Crown Prince’s mannerisms and social interactions couldn’t be fully described by Song Ao alone.

For example, when she suddenly encountered Mu Hanjiang earlier today, she was unaware of past grievances and nearly failed to respond appropriately, making a mistake.

The young woman’s reasoning was sound, and after closing her eyes to consider, the Empress nodded in agreement.

Song Ao felt it inappropriate and whispered when the girl had left: “Letting this impostor meet the Crown Prince doesn’t seem right. After all, they are siblings born of the same mother…”

The Empress laughed coldly: “That’s precisely why they should meet! You keep a close watch when they do. I also want to discover whether Lou Guan’er has told this girl about the events of that year.”

Hearing this, Song Ao immediately understood the Empress’s intention to test.

Thus, the following night, the girl was blindfolded and led by palace servants, turning this way and that through countless twists and turns, until finally arriving at a secluded courtyard.

When her blindfold was removed, she found herself in a dilapidated palace chamber permeated with medicinal smells. In the flickering lamplight, a frail youth with a pale face and wide eyes stared at her in terror.

In the middle of the night, anyone suddenly confronted with someone who looked identical to themselves, as if seeing their reflection in a mirror, would suspect ghostly apparitions seeking a substitute soul for death.

The Crown Prince was no different—in his shock, he couldn’t even shed tears.

After quietly observing him for a moment, the girl smiled cheerfully, curtsied, and informed the frightened youth that she was the Crown Prince’s body double.

Upon hearing this, the real Feng Qiyuan’s expression grew increasingly rigid as tears fell like rolling stones: “Mother… has Mother found me useless and no longer wants me? Is she using you… to completely replace me?”

The young woman smiled as she poured a cup of hot tea for the Crown Prince: “Your Highness jests. Your leg injury hasn’t healed, so I’m merely substituting for you with His Majesty for a few days, handling the Crown Prince’s difficult duties. Rest assured, once your leg heals, Empress will still need you to uphold the Eastern Palace’s dignity. After all, I am a girl and cannot maintain the deception for long.”

They were currently in the bloom of youth—small, adolescent, with indistinguishable gender differences, which made the deception manageable. But as the Crown Prince grew older, flaws would inevitably show.

These words gradually calmed Feng Qiyuan’s heart. He finally stopped sobbing and carefully examined this young woman who resembled him so closely.

For some reason, this smiling young woman made him feel inexplicably comfortable.

Song Ao observed coldly from the side. The worthless girl was certainly friendly; in no time at all, she had charmed the Crown Prince into conversing openly with her.

Their conversation focused entirely on matters related to impersonating the Crown Prince—the daily interactions between the Crown Prince, the princes, and the Tang family royal relatives. Nothing seemed inappropriate.

When the young woman inquired about Mu Hanjiang, she asked in greater detail.

Feng Qiyuan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger: “Who… who says I am infatuated with Young Master Mu? It’s not infatuation! It’s pure appreciation. I appreciate all things beautiful to behold, regardless of gender, and without any vulgar thoughts!”

Young Master Mu had elegant features worthy of careful appreciation. The girl nodded in agreement and continued probing: “So Your Highness merely appreciates and hasn’t… touched him to enjoy his beauty?”

Feng Qiyuan’s face remained flushed, looking somewhat ashamed: “That night at the palace banquet, I drank too much and don’t know why, but felt dizzy and kept wanting to lean against someone. Accidentally, I leaned against Young Master Mu, causing him to fall from the high platform—purely an accident. But it was certainly my fault… Now my leg is lame, which shows karmic retribution. In the future, when you see Young Master Mu and other noble youths close to him, you’d better avoid them. His people don’t care whether you’re the Crown Prince or a prince; they’re ruthless!”

It seemed the Crown Prince and Young Master Mu had developed quite a grudge. The Prince greatly feared that idle official Mu Hanjiang and repeatedly warned her about him.

After that, the youth discussed the Crown Prince’s daily habits and interests.

Upon learning that this girl could also perform opera, the Crown Prince’s eyes immediately brightened. After asking detailed questions about her singing style and performance techniques, he couldn’t resist using his crutch to stand, twisting his waist to demonstrate a scene for his fellow enthusiast.

His supple movements didn’t appear self-taught but contained some essence of a professional performer.

Song Ao watched from the side, her mouth twisted in contempt, rolling her eyes to the ceiling: the Crown Prince was born with lowly bones; even being raised in noble quarters couldn’t save him!

The young woman was good at flattery, tapping the table with a look of enchantment as she kept rhythm for the Crown Prince.

After his satisfying performance, the Crown Prince felt somewhat embarrassed and hastened to save face: “Mother and Father both dislike this. If you’re impersonating me, you must show restraint and not indulge in opera whenever the urge strikes…”

The young woman smiled as she straightened his slightly disheveled sleeves, her tone gentle: “It’s not a shameful occupation. If you enjoy it, then perform. Just don’t neglect important matters. Later, I’ll find some good scripts to entertain Your Highness…”

Hearing this, the Crown Prince felt an unexpected warmth. From childhood, palace people had always frowned upon his interests; no one had ever spoken such permissive words to him.

He couldn’t help feeling wistful: “That won’t be necessary… I am the Crown Prince, and what I can least be in this life is myself…”

The girl moved her lips upon hearing this, but said nothing. She merely reminded the Crown Prince not to forget applying his medicine and to heal his leg injury quickly, then prepared to take her leave.

The frail youth hadn’t had a playmate for a long time, and somehow, he had immediately connected with this young woman impersonating him.

Seeing her about to leave, Feng Qiyuan seemed reluctant to part and asked her name.

The young woman glanced at Song Ao, thought for a moment, then smiled: “I am a commoner, lowborn from childhood, with no name. But I’ve noticed you nobles all have resounding names, which I envy. I recently gave myself a name—Xiaoying, with the ‘ying’ from ‘firefly’s glow.’ If Your Highness doesn’t mind, call me Yan Xiaoying.”

Song Ao sneered from the side—what a lowly name she had chosen, like that of an insect.

The Crown Prince, however, seriously repeated it and then said regretfully: “Yan Xiaoying, I’ll remember! If there’s anything you don’t understand, come ask me anytime!”

Xiaoying smiled and nodded, waved her hand, and was once again blindfolded and led away, leaving the chamber filled with the smell of medicinal broth.

Afterward, Song Ao reported to the Empress that during this meeting, as the young woman had claimed, she had inquired only about daily interaction details and the Crown Prince’s habits to better impersonate him. There had been no emotional scene of blood relatives reuniting with choked sobs.

After hearing Song Ao’s report, the Empress felt somewhat relieved.

Yan Xiaoying? She had even given herself a name. After a few days in the palace, the young woman was trying to imitate noble manners everywhere.

Unfortunately, such an insignificant, worthless life—if she died, there wouldn’t even be a grave or tombstone, and this name would never be carved in an epitaph!

After meeting the Crown Prince once, Xiaoying made rapid progress, with her gait and mannerisms becoming increasingly similar to the Prince’s.

Though she was a girl, her intellect far surpassed her twin brother’s. Whatever books she was asked to memorize, she could recite fluently in no time.

According to her, this was due to her experience keeping accounts and memorizing opera scripts.

Regardless, she had managed to organize her studies to some degree, so that if suddenly tested, she wouldn’t be completely ignorant.

On the day of entering the Imperial Study to meet the teacher, besides Crown Prince Feng Qiyuan, the Second Prince and Third Prince were also present.

It was said that Consort Shang had later suggested to His Majesty that since Imperial Tutor Ge rarely taught, instructing students was like herding sheep—herding one or many made little difference. If the tutor taught well, when the Crown Prince eventually took power, he would have capable princely brothers to assist him.

His Majesty found some logic in this and allowed the two already adult princes to join the Imperial Study.

When news reached the Empress’s ears, several fruit plates suffered her wrath, smashed to pieces—How hateful! What should have been the Crown Prince’s sole honor had again been shared with that despicable woman, Consort Shang, and her sons.

After destroying the fruit plates, the Empress, unwilling to be outdone, had Song Ao send the young Sixth Prince as well.

Although young, the Sixth Prince had a hunger for learning. Given his age, he wouldn’t require the Imperial Tutor’s attention; he could simply observe and learn alongside his brothers under the sage’s instruction.

As a result, the study that should have been reserved for the Crown Prince alone became crowded with additional desks.

Upon seeing the frail Crown Prince, the Third Prince ignored him completely, using his elbow to shove Yan Xiaoying, who walked ahead, to one side.

Xiaoying rubbed her waist where the brute had struck her—it seemed the bull-king Third Prince still harbored resentment over his defeat in the arena, showing no brotherly dignity.

She didn’t mind, smiling and greeting the black-faced Third Prince before sitting at a table with the Sixth Prince to fold paper mantises.

Third Prince Feng Qiwu snorted coldly, made a few mocking remarks that received no response, then sat fuming in a corner.

The smiling tiger Second Prince, however, was quite cordial, appearing completely at ease as he sat across from the Crown Prince, inquiring solicitously after his health.

As for Sixth Prince Feng Qiruo, despite his adorable baby face, he seemed somewhat prematurely mature. At his young age, he remained unmoved by paper mantises, exchanging polite pleasantries, patiently waiting until the Crown Prince had folded one before perfunctorily thanking his royal brother for his concern, then eagerly returning to reviewing his lessons.

Soon, the Imperial Tutor would arrive and would certainly test their knowledge.

Even the Third Prince, whose head typically ached at the mere sight of books, was wide-eyed, attempting to cram in a few more pages of reading.

Xiaoying gazed idly over her book. Despite the gathering of elder princes today, there was still no sign of the Grand Prince. Who knew what fatal illness afflicted him, that he never showed his face in the palace…

She recalled how, when she had asked Feng Qiyuan about the Grand Prince, Feng Qiyuan had turned pale, merely forcing composure and saying she needn’t inquire further, that she would never encounter Eldest Brother.

Such an artless person, yet when mentioning the Grand Prince, he became so tight-lipped…

Half an hour passed this way before the great scholar finally arrived.

As he entered, the study fell silent—everyone was… startled by the man who entered.