Some people’s destined hardships begin after birth, but for others, heaven clips their wings the moment they are born.

Ming Sigu was conceived in a rare and blessed womb, yet born in a time of peril, his legs disabled, unable to walk.

Having inherited the appearance and intelligence of both his father emperor and mother empress, by age five Ming Sigu already understood human nature and comprehended emotion and righteousness. Though he could only sit in a wooden wheelchair, he understood why his mother empress, who lacked for nothing, always carried a trace of sadness in her expression when she saw him.

“Mother Empress has invited a renowned physician for you. Imperial Physician Liu recommended him—they say he’s very skilled at treating legs and feet.” Shen Guiyan said gently to the First Prince.

“No need.” He turned his head aside and said indifferently: “This son can sit in a wheelchair for life without trouble. Mother Empress need not concern herself further.”

Shen Guiyan sighed. A five-year-old child, yet his decision was so firm it could not be changed—she didn’t know if this was good or bad. But as his mother, how could she watch helplessly as her son remained unable to stand for his entire life?

With the realm at peace, the Empress devoted all her energy to finding doctors for him and persuading him to accept treatment.

Ming Sigu shut his doors and refused to see her directly. Of course, this action later earned his father emperor’s furious scolding, who had people break down the door and took Nuo’er away.

So he could only endure his mother empress’s daily nagging again.

He hadn’t refused treatment. In fact, he’d secretly sought out the palace’s imperial physicians, his small face looking at them earnestly: “You can help treat me when Mother Empress doesn’t know—acupuncture, medicine, anything is fine. But you must promise me not to tell Mother Empress. I’m afraid that if it can’t be cured, she’ll lose even her last hope.”

Imperial Physician Liu was deeply moved by this child and persuaded the other physicians. They discussed various methods to treat the First Prince’s legs and secretly treated him for an entire year.

After a year, Ming Sigu could slowly stand up and could also walk in small steps with someone’s support. He saw some hope and prepared a surprise for his mother empress.

A six-year-old child already understood filial piety and gratitude.

When he stood up at the birthday banquet, all the suffering of that year was rewarded. His mother empress finally found peace, though she cried louder than any time before—but this time she cried while smiling.

Ming Sigu embraced his mother empress’s waist, not telling her what was written in Imperial Physician Liu’s medical records.

“Can stand, but only stand.”

He still couldn’t run through rooms and courtyards like Nuo’er—he could only stand and walk with someone’s support.

But this was enough, wasn’t it?

Later, the First Prince grew fond of his wheelchair, claiming it was convenient. Though he could now walk, he still often traveled in and out seated in the wheelchair. With the Empress’s burden lifted, her spirits improved considerably, and even the Emperor’s mood brightened—he was all smiles even during morning court.

This was a prosperous age, and with no others in the rear palace, Ming Sigu grew carefree to age sixteen, transforming from a sensible child into a handsome and graceful young man.

Nuo’er had always accompanied him. Though recognized as the Empress’s goddaughter, the things she did daily were no different from a maid’s—caring for the First Prince, making him happy. As time passed, the little girl had blossomed into a lovely and touching young maiden.

The Empress thought it should be time to select consorts for the Imperial Prince, shouldn’t it?

Over all these years, Ming Sigu had only Nuo’er by his side. No other palace maid could get close to him, so Shen Guiyan felt the time had come.

However, life is unpredictable. When the Empress asked Nuo’er if she had someone she liked, Nuo’er blinked and said: “Yes.”

Shen Guiyan asked with a smile: “Who is it?”

Nuo’er answered happily: “General Zhang’s son, the one who rides horses!”

The sky instantly darkened. Shen Guiyan was dumbstruck, instinctively glancing back at the embroidered screen beside her.

Behind the screen sat a wheelchair, the First Prince sitting quietly, making no sound.

“Imperial son, matters of the heart truly cannot be forced.”

Nuo’er skipped away. Shen Guiyan held Ming Sigu’s hand and said earnestly: “Nuo’er has accompanied you for so long. Now that she’s come to like someone else, you cannot resent her. It’s simply that you two have no fate together. Do you understand?”

Ming Sigu lowered his eyes. After a long while, he gave a light laugh, his voice carrying a youth’s clarity: “Mother Empress need not worry. Since Nuo’er likes the Zhang family’s son, this son can only fulfill her wishes.”

Shen Guiyan studied him: “You can let go?”

The First Prince smiled: “I didn’t like her that much anyway. What is there to let go of? Mother Empress worries too much.”

Shen Guiyan nodded half-believing, saying she would prepare consort selection matters for him, and only then departed.

Ming Sigu sat quietly in his wheelchair. Only he remained in the great hall. He tried to stand, slowly walking from the wheelchair to the bedside, his steps unsteady—naturally not as dashing as wielding a whip on horseback.

With a light laugh, the First Prince lay down on the bed and had a good sleep.

Nuo’er went to the kitchen to make pastries, then quickly returned. Seeing someone lying on the bed, she said very happily: “Your Highness, this servant made pastries and added the osmanthus honey you like!”

The person on the bed showed no reaction. Nuo’er curiously ran over to look—he was already asleep.

What a handsome person, Nuo’er thought as she crouched by the bedside. The First Prince had inherited all the advantages of both the Emperor and Empress. If not for his inconvenient legs, he would truly be the most uniquely beautiful man in all the realm.

She reached out wanting to touch his long lashes, but the First Prince happened to turn over, avoiding her.

Petty, Nuo’er pouted and sat at the table eating the osmanthus cakes herself. She’d grown up in this palace, protected extremely well by the First Prince. Her natural disposition remained intact, yet she’d also learned gratitude and magnanimity from him. No one in the palace dared bully her, and no one dared speak ill of her.

Last time when General Zhang’s son entered the palace, he too was very respectful toward her and even taught her to ride horses. When she pushed the First Prince’s wheelchair, she always walked very slowly, but it was her first time running as fast as the wind on horseback—she was so scared she couldn’t speak, yet so thrilled.

That Young Master Zhang was refined and handsome. Though not as good-looking as the First Prince, his appearance while riding made her think it was wonderful—as if she’d seen it in a dream.

So today when the Empress asked whom she liked, she’d named Young Master Zhang. Having already seen him in dreams, it must be love.

After finishing a plate of pastries, the First Prince still hadn’t awakened. Nuo’er simply got up, took the empty plate out to set it aside, then went to see if Young Master Zhang had entered the palace again today.

Ming Sigu opened his eyes. It seemed as if a long time had passed, yet the fragrance of osmanthus honey in the room still hadn’t dissipated.

After a long silence, he went out to instruct the palace attendants: “Find the quieter palace maids in the palace. I want to select a new personal maid.”

The palace attendants were very surprised, then ran like the wind to report to the Empress. The Empress sighed and had the Ministry of Internal Affairs send all eligible palace maids for his selection.

But he could only select one.

Ming Sigu chose the quietest one, called Xin’er. She looked somewhat similar to Nuo’er but didn’t run and skip about—she only stood quietly behind him.

Nuo’er played outside for half the day and returned to find people already moving things out of her room.

“What are you doing?” Nuo’er rushed over in panic to stop them: “Why are you moving my things?”

The palace attendants bowed respectfully to her: “The First Prince has already selected another personal maid. This room is closest to the main hall, so naturally it must be vacated. Your palace quarters have been rearranged by the Empress—in Chenxi Palace.”

Nuo’er looked at them in disbelief for a long moment, then turned and ran into the main hall.

Ming Sigu was reading at his desk, a new palace maid quietly keeping him company beside him, pouring his tea.

“Your Highness?” Nuo’er’s eyes were already red as she looked at him uncomprehendingly: “Why is this?”

Ming Sigu didn’t even raise his head, smiling faintly: “Mother Empress is already preparing to arrange your marriage. Continuing to live in my palace would be somewhat improper. I’ve already chosen Xin’er to continue serving me. You should move to Chenxi Palace first.”

Marriage? Nuo’er was dumbfounded, staring at him blankly for a long time: “I haven’t thought about marrying yet…”

If she married, what would happen to him? The First Prince was particular and willful—he would bully others, wouldn’t he? Moreover, they’d been together for so long—why must she go marry?

The First Prince paid her no attention, and Xin’er beside him also remained quietly silent. The two, one seated and one standing, looked like a harmonious painting. She wasn’t in the picture—if she were, she would be the one disrupting the scene.