Xiao Yu’er giggled with joy, her big eyes curving into crescent moons as she pressed her little face against her mother’s. Xiao Chuan’er, however, kept his small face taut, turning it away while secretly tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Qiao Yan looked at her son helplessly—she had long since figured out that this boy of hers was a little tsundere.
Having teased the kids enough, Qiao Yan let them go and assigned them a task.
“Babies, how about you go pick some vegetables? Mama will dig up the sweet potatoes, and then we’ll head back to make you breakfast.”
The two little ones nodded obediently and answered in their soft, milky voices, “Okay~”
Qiao Yan felt reassured and reminded them, “Chuan’er, take care of your sister, be careful now.”
Xiao Chuan’er kept his delicate little face stern, took his sister’s chubby hand, and nodded solemnly.
Watching the two little ones walk off hand in hand carrying their small baskets, Qiao Yan put her hands on her hips and sighed, “System, three years really flew by. The kids are this big now—time truly waits for no one.”
Little Milk System, lounging on a small recliner watching cartoons and munching on potato chips, rolled a cute little white-eyed glance at its host upon hearing this. 【Come on, Host, you’re only nineteen this year, aren’t you?】
Qiao Yan’s expression froze for a moment. Ah, she kept forgetting that this body was still young. Back when she transmigrated and gave birth, this body had only been sixteen.
Every time she thought about it, she wanted to call the original owner a beast. What was the rush for a fifteen-year-old kid? She went and forced herself on a man and got herself pregnant, and worst of all, she left Qiao Yan to endure the heart-wrenching pain of childbirth!
Seeing the two kids safely reach the vegetable patch, Qiao Yan swiftly dug up the sweet potatoes. The vegetable patch wasn’t far from the sweet potato field—within her line of sight—which was the only reason she felt comfortable letting the two children go over alone.
Xiao Chuan’er led his sister to the vegetable patch, and both little ones bent over, sticking their butts out as they earnestly pulled up vegetables.
Chuan’er pulled a few scallions and put them in the basket, then noticed his sister’s chubby little hand yanking up a handful of chives. He tugged at the corner of his mouth on his stern face and said helplessly, “Sister, Mama wanted scallions. What you pulled are chives.”
Xiao Yu’er looked at what was in her own hand, then at what was in her brother’s, a puzzled look on her little head. They looked the same to her—both were green.
Seeing his sister’s dazed expression, Xiao Chuan’er let out a sigh far too mature for his age. “Forget it, just keep pulling. Mama can turn anything into something tasty anyway.”
“Mhm~ Okay~”
With that approval, Xiao Yu’er yanked up chives even more swiftly.
…
The Capital
Prince Su’s Mansion
Mu Qinzhen returned to the capital from the frontier, covered in dust. The moment he stepped into the mansion, the old steward, Uncle Chu, hurried over and presented an imperial edict with both hands.
A flicker of surprise passed through Mu Qinzhen’s cold eyes. He took it expressionlessly and opened it to read.
The old emperor’s edict was as verbose as ever, piled high with ornate rhetoric, with only a line or two of actual substance. He sifted through the text that practically sang his praises to the heavens, searching for the key information. When his eyes landed on the words “bring the Princess Consort back to the capital,” his hand clenched tight, and a chilling aura erupted from him!
Bring that woman back? Impossible!
Just thinking about that night—how she’d drugged him and forced herself on him against his will—
Made him gnash his teeth in hatred! Bring her back to the capital? That was impossible!
He would never forget that feeling of despair and helplessness!
Mu Qinzhen crumpled the edict into a ball, strode out of the mansion, mounted his horse in one swift motion, and galloped toward the imperial palace.
The Imperial Palace
Kunning Palace
The Emperor and Empress were happily enjoying their breakfast when they heard the eunuch announce their son’s arrival. Both of them shuddered simultaneously!
The Empress immediately gathered her skirts and dashed toward the low couch nearby, lying down quickly, adjusting her appearance beneath the blanket, working her facial expressions for a moment, and instantly putting on a look of frail weakness.
The Emperor ladled a bowl of soup and brought it to the couch, feeding it to the Empress spoonful by spoonful.
Mu Qinzhen entered the hall, and the first thing he saw was his mother lying on the low couch groaning in pain while his imperial father attended to her with great care.
He swept his gaze over the lavish spread of meat and fish on the table, then looked at his mother’s rosy complexion and the grease stain at the corner of her mouth that she hadn’t bothered to wipe away. A cold sneer flickered in his eyes.
He paid no heed to the two old folks’ theatrics and thrust the edict before his father. “Take it back. I will not bring her back.”
The Emperor’s hand holding the bowl trembled violently, and he glared at his son. Who exactly was the emperor here?
“An imperial decree is as immovable as a mountain—there’s no such thing as taking it back! Besides, I’m having you bring the Princess Consort back for your own good! Your mother has fallen ill from worrying over this matter!”
“If you want her back, you bring her. I’ll leave this fine honor to Your Majesty.”
Mu Qinzhen’s face was indifferent, but a faint anger simmered in his eyes. He bowed respectfully, his tone deferential, yet the words he spoke made the Emperor cough with rage.
The Emperor coughed violently, his finger trembling as he pointed at him. “You wretch!”
The Emperor had lost the battle, so the Empress on the couch pressed on.
She gave her thigh a hard pinch, and tears immediately welled in her eyes as she spoke in a frail, weak voice, “Son, you’re twenty-five years old now. It’s time you had a child.”
“The Princess Consort has been banished to the farm for four years now. Surely whatever anger you have should have cooled by now.”
Mu Qinzhen bowed respectfully, his expression still indifferent, his tone cold: “Mother, I will not bring her back. You should give up on that idea.”
With that, he turned to leave but was stopped by the Empress.
“Stop right there!”
The Empress was so furious she stopped feigning weakness, climbing out of bed and staring sternly at her son: “Son, tell your mother the truth—do you not like women?”
There were rumors in the capital that her son was a sodomite. She hadn’t believed it at first, and the gossip had made her heart ache with anger.
But judging by her son’s current behavior, she was beginning to waver. In a few more years, would he really bring home a male daughter-in-law?
Mu Qinzhen: “…”
“Speak up! Do you have a fondness for men?”
The Empress asked urgently and sternly, while the Emperor beside her, enjoying the spectacle with no sense of urgency, watched with gleaming eyes, waiting for his son’s answer.
Mu Qinzhen’s face darkened. He gave his father and mother an inexpressible look before finally conceding in defeat: “Fine. I’ll go fetch her tomorrow.”
……
Three days later, Jiangcheng Farmstead
Mu Qinzhen led a group of riders to the outskirts of the farmstead.
The mottled walls and crumbling tiled roofs all testified to the farmstead’s dilapidation.
Mu Qinzhen dismounted, tossing the reins to a servant, and strode on his long, straight, powerful legs toward the farmstead’s courtyard gate.
As he passed a pile of pine needles outside the wall, Mu Qinzhen paused for a moment, his cold eyes fixed on the faint movement within the pile.
These pine needles were used by farmers for kindling, also called pine straw, and farming households typically kept a supply at home.
The guard leading his horse behind him, Gao Zhuoyuan, followed his master’s gaze and also noticed the anomaly in the pine needle pile. His breath sharpened instantly, and he drew the longsword at his side.
“Who’s there?”
Gao Zhuoyuan barked coldly, and the several attendants behind him also drew their swords in unison.
Blades slid from their sheaths with a rasping sound. Whatever was stirring in the pine needle pile seemed startled and froze completely still, playing dead.
Mu Qinzhen signaled with his eyes, and Gao Zhuoyuan immediately stepped forward with his sword to investigate.
He was cautious, crouching and slowly brushing aside the pine straw bit by bit, revealing a flash of pink…
When he finally cleared the pine straw away, Gao Zhuoyuan froze—it was a child!
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