When the Duke of England carefully broke down and imparted the secrets of Emperor Jingxi’s imperial schemes to his granddaughter, in Fengtian Hall, behind the large inlaid screen of mountains and rivers, Emperor Jingxi was lazily reclining by the Gilded Lacquer Canopied Bed, playing with his newly born children.
The entwined peony embroidered gold gauze canopy was gently drawn aside, revealing the infants just a few months old—soft and tender like little powder puffs, their tiny arms and legs snow-white, their clear eyes wide open, their little hands grasping and scratching—
He exhaled with satisfaction, hardly able to believe these were his own children!
A smile tugged uncontrollably at the corners of his lips, and his fatherly love surged forth, wishing he could hold each one in his arms and never let go!
A wu lay softly nearby, idly toying with the Yuba Ornament in her hand.
Since giving birth to this pair of children, she had become a little complacent, knowing she would be cared for meticulously every day and could focus on maintaining her health.
The royal children had no fewer than a dozen nursemaids—all first-time wet nurses of good character and robust health—attending to the precious prince and princess with care and nurturing.
She herself had no worries.
She looked at Emperor Jingxi and the children, her heart blooming with joy.
In truth, she loved these perfect Longfeng Twins dearly herself.
How could the old man not be overjoyed after so many years without children, suddenly blessed with such fine offspring?
It was impossible to get enough of them.
Sometimes, when A wu turned, she would find this man gazing down at the children, a smile appearing on his lips as he looked, or reaching out to gently hold a tiny hand and stroke a cheek.
That look of being utterly captivated!
A wu was quite proud—after all, they were her children!
She smiled and teased, “If not for me, where would you have such fine babies?”
Emperor Jingxi did not lift his eyes but continued watching the little ones. “Mm.”
‘Just one word?’
A wu was unsatisfied; usually, he was sweeter.
Today he seemed so indifferent.
She deliberately asked, “Do you like your grandson more, or your son?”
Emperor Jingxi glanced at her with a smile., “How could one compare?”
A wu: “Then how should one compare?”
At that moment, one of the little children was struggling with the emperor’s crown strings with their tiny hands.
Emperor Jingxi, obviously doting on the child, unwilling to disappoint the poor baby, leaned down to let them reach it.
The child grasped the emperor’s hairband, gently tugging once, then again.
Emperor Jingxi held the soft little hand and said, “Too mischievous, just like you.”
A wu protested with a hum.
Leaning on his knuckles, Emperor Jingxi watched the two children with great interest, a hint of daydreaming in his eyes.
“What were you like when you were little? Tell me.”
A wu said, “By the seaside, picking shells, playing in the sand, and helping with some chores at home.”
Emperor Jingxi was somewhat surprised.
“Really? You did housework?”
A wu: “Of course I did. I learned to clean fish at a young age!”
As she spoke, she recounted all the tasks she could do.
Emperor Jingxi played with the little child and listened, occasionally asking for details.
A wu told him about gathering shells, which shells were valuable, and that good shells could be sold for money.
She specially emphasized, “Ming tiles are made from ground shells.”
At this, she suddenly thought of Brother Ye Han, and a wave of confusion briefly overtook her.
Brother Ye Han, shells, Ming tiles, the Eastern Sea, cleaning fish—all these were distant from her now, but whenever she thought of them, they remained vivid as if from yesterday.
In that moment, all the silks and riches, all the splendor and glory, seemed fleeting.
Only the past was real.
Then Emperor Jingxi said, “If I had the gift of foresight, I would cross thousands of miles just to find you.”
A wu snapped out of her distant memories.
Curious, she asked, “And then?”
Emperor Jingxi was momentarily stunned.
Had he known he would one day cherish this young woman deeply, he would have rushed to find her in her childhood, to see what she was like then.
But after that?
What would he do?
She was so young at the time…
He thought for a moment and asked, “Did you want anything as a child? Were you lacking anything?”
A wu: “I don’t think I lacked anything as a child.”
Emperor Jingxi was somewhat surprised but understood her meaning.
Her family was naturally not wealthy, and she did not live in the palace with silks and feasts.
She likely helped support her family.
But she had loving parents and three older brothers.
In truth, she was a content and happy child.
So, there was really no need for anything else.
Emperor Jingxi lowered his eyes and fell silent for a moment before smiling gently.
“That’s very good.”
A wu had a childhood full of love, and that was why she was herself.
He said no more, but A wu understood his meaning.
That moment moved her deeply.
The man beside her was noble and reserved, refined and tolerant—a precious jade piece polished to a gentle luster.
Such a man, even if he had nothing, she would admire; let alone the fact he held supreme power, could grant her wealth and security, and shelter their two children.
She thought of the years she had spent wandering after leaving her hometown, and felt that this man was a gift and compensation from fate.
Emperor Jingxi bent his head to play with the child and smiled.
“The past doesn’t matter. What counts is the future. As for grandchildren, let their parents care for them. What concern is that of mine? The ones I care for are my wife and children.”
A wu heard this and somehow blushed.
Though she was Imperial Noble Consort, she was still technically a concubine.
Yet he called her “wife.”
Even if it was just a word, it pleased her heart.
Now that they had their own children, the four of them truly were a family.
She smiled and teased, “Then how will you care for us?”
Emperor Jingxi said nothing further, only raising his eyes to smile at her.
Because they were in the bedchamber, their clothing was not too formal.
The collar of his brocade robe was open, revealing crystal-clear skin.
Under her fine silk inner garment was a delicate place that trembled like ripples on water—soft and smooth, as if about to overflow.
His dark brown eyes darkened with substance as his gaze roamed over A wu’s slender white neck, then slowly, gently downwards.
A wu felt as if his eyes were caressing her, her face flushed hot.
She bit her lip and turned away to look aside.
Since the two children were tended by nursemaids, A wu did not need to nurse them herself.
At first, she had no milk, but gradually some came—though only a little, intermittently dripping.
After consultation, Emperor Jingxi calmly ordered that her milk be preserved without special tonics or forced production.
At first, A wu did not understand his intention, but later realized—and felt embarrassed.
The old man was shameless, his ways so numerous!
Gradually she grew used to it and even found some amusement.
During pregnancy, the Imperial Physician had said that if all went well, intercourse was permitted mid-term, but because she was carrying twins, Emperor Jingxi was especially restrained.
Even sharing the same bed, he was cautious and did not truly touch her.
Two months after delivery, once her body had recovered and the children reached three months, they resumed their marital relations, which brought new delights.
At that moment, the chamber was quiet.
On the small table behind the screen, a white-glazed lotus-petal five-hole vase held blooming flowers, their light fragrance filling the air.
Emperor Jingxi tugged the bell, summoning the nursemaid and palace maids, who came to carry the little prince and princess out, then quietly withdrew.
He then ordered a palace maid to prop open the screen window and moved aside a folding screen, allowing the autumn sunlight to stream in unhindered through the latticed window, filtered only by a sheer veil.
A wu raised a hand to shield her eyes, softly protesting, “Why?”
Emperor Jingxi said nothing but stepped forward and wrapped a large hand around her slender body, lifting her up.
A wu’s gaze rose sharply, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
Her thin clothing clung closely to the man’s robe.
Though the robe was finely made, the embroidery was stiff and a little prickly.
Her delicate skin was like water—how could it endure this?
She protested, “Don’t!”
But Emperor Jingxi paid no heed, carrying her to the purple sandalwood table and gently laying her down.
His head leaned over her, casting a pool of sunlight on her jade-like skin—brightly white, glowing with a rosy sheen.
She squirmed, her slender waist swaying, captivating his eyes completely.
Emperor Jingxi half-closed his eyelids and studied her carefully, his gaze darkening, his breath quickening.