Yintang instructed Baofu, who then summoned a young eunuch from the front.
“Why hasn’t Crown Prince Gege returned yet?” Yintang asked in his childish voice.
Though young, the eunuch was articulate and replied respectfully, “His Highness the Crown Prince is still practicing.”
Yintang asked curiously, “Does Crown Prince Gege practice this late every day?”
The eunuch lowered his head and whispered, “Whenever His Majesty tests the princes’ equestrian skills and archery during the day, the Crown Prince practices here at night until the curfew.”
Who was the Crown Prince? Since birth, he had been held in the palm of the Emperor’s hand. From pearls of the East Sea to snow foxes of Tianshan, whatever he desired throughout his life was granted without question.
But when it came to archery and studies, competence was competence, and incompetence was incompetence. These weren’t things that could be obtained by merely pointing a finger—they required personal learning and practice. Ultimately, surpassing others depended entirely on one’s ability, effort, and talent.
Thus, even someone as noble as the Crown Prince faced things he couldn’t obtain and situations beyond his control.
Yintang dismissed the eunuch and stood by the Archery Hall, watching quietly for a while.
Even as a layman, he could see that Yinreng was too impatient when riding his horse and overly hasty when drawing his bow. Rather than practicing archery, it seemed more like he was venting certain emotions.
Suddenly, something seemed to go wrong during Yinreng’s archery practice. A group of eunuchs and Andas crowded around him, causing quite a commotion before eventually dispersing. Yinreng resumed his practice, though this time he dismounted and switched to stationary archery.
The young eunuch from earlier came rushing over. Upon seeing Yintang, he knelt on both knees and pleaded, “Ninth Prince, His Highness the Crown Prince has injured his hand but refuses to rest. Please persuade him to take care of his health!”
Based on their limited recent interactions, Yintang felt he didn’t carry much weight with Yinreng. Moreover, since Yinreng hadn’t been particularly friendly toward him, he saw no need to ingratiate himself with this future deposed crown prince.
Seeing Yintang remain motionless, the eunuch grew anxious and kowtowed twice with loud thuds. “If His Majesty finds out that the Crown Prince continued practicing with an injured hand, all the servants present will be severely punished for negligence. Ninth Prince, you have a kind heart—please persuade His Highness, if only for the sake of our heads!”
The eunuch knew perfectly well that the lives of ten thousand servants held no significance in the eyes of the princes. But he had no other choice. The Crown Prince’s injury was quite severe; if not treated promptly and he developed a fever, all the attending eunuchs and Andas would face trouble. The Ninth Prince appeared innocent and kind-hearted—whether it would work or not, he could only try seeking his help.
Unexpectedly, his desperate plea had reached the right person.
The eunuch watched as the dumpling-like Ninth Prince sighed like a miniature adult, then took his attending eunuch’s hand and walked toward the Crown Prince. Before him stretched bright crimson torchlight, while behind him lay the dancing shadows of palace trees. Caught between light and darkness, he seemed not to belong to this place.
The eunuch stared blankly for a moment before shaking his head and quickly trotting after them.
As Yintang drew closer, he could clearly see Yinreng’s injury on his right hand.
Blood from the tiger’s mouth had stained the brocade-wrapped bow grip red.
Yet he continued shooting arrows as if completely unaware, with only his tightly pursed thin lips faintly revealing his inner turmoil.
Even as the curfew hour approached, the servants around him dared not make a sound, merely bowing their heads to retrieve and hand him arrows like a silent pantomime.
Yinreng remained oblivious to Yintang’s arrival.
He shot arrow after arrow, practicing tirelessly.
As the Crown Prince, his Han Ama had told him since childhood that he was the second most esteemed person in the empire. Whatever he desired, he needed only to sit in Yuxiu Palace and speak, and within seven days, rare treasures from all corners of the land would sprout like bamboo shoots after rain, crowding his table.
Yet, merely wanting to occasionally outshoot Yinti once or twice at the archery range—to prove himself Han Ama’s most outstanding son in every aspect—why was it so difficult?
He was already thirteen, no longer an innocent, ignorant child.
He knew what Mingzhu had been saying both inside and outside the court.
Phrases like “The eldest son should be established” and claims that the First Prince was “brave and resembles the ancestor”—though laughable—were like seeds planted in cracked soil, liable to take root and sprout any day.
And he, as the Crown Prince, had borne Han Ama’s highest hopes since childhood.
He received exclusive tutorials from the finest tutors, with Han Ama personally instructing him in reading, writing, horseback riding, and archery.
The paternal affection other Princes could only yearn for, he had firmly possessed since youth.
But that affection was both love and shackles.
“If you don’t wish to properly fulfill your role as Crown Prince, then I need not cherish you so.” He was still too young to distinguish whether Han Ama loved Yinreng himself, or merely the empire’s most brilliant and capable Heir Apparent.
It seemed he never had any other choice.
Only by surpassing the other Princes in every way could he prove Han Ama’s choice correct, silence the endless gossip from Mingzhu and others, and eternally retain Han Ama’s love.
Thus, even with his hands bleeding and wounds throbbing with pain, he paid no mind. He even secretly wished the pain would intensify—enough to overwhelm him, so he wouldn’t recall Han Ama’s disappointed gaze from earlier that day.
That same disappointed look he’d seen seven years ago when he complained that studying was tiresome.
He was no longer the helpless child who couldn’t survive without his father and servants. Yet the terror and despair of abandonment still gripped his heart fiercely.
Yinreng felt he had practiced long enough. His arms trembled slightly, and his legs grew numb from standing. But a voice echoed incessantly in his mind: Don’t stop, don’t stop. If you stop, your Han Ama will cease to love you…
The torchlight in the archery range flickered in the youth’s pupils, their complex emotions momentarily indecipherable even to Yintang.
But Yintang knew he couldn’t let Yinreng sink further into this mood.
As Yinreng accepted an arrow from the Anda and prepared to nock it, he suddenly felt a small weight clinging to his waist.
Looking down, he met a pair of round, dark eyes brimming with tears, a childish face etched with anxiety.
Wasn’t this Little Dizi?
“Ninth Brother?” Yinreng paused, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Seeing Yinreng’s attention, the little bundle burst into loud sobs.
He cried while tugging at Yinreng’s sleeve, sobbing intermittently, “Crown Prince Gege, on my way back I remembered I forgot my little bow, so I came to retrieve it. But going back and forth took too long, and the curfew is about to begin. Yikun Palace is too far from here—there’s no way I can make it back in time, wu wu wu wu…”
The little round child wept so miserably that he even used Yinreng’s sleeve to wipe his runny nose and tears.
Yinreng felt somewhat at a loss.
He lived alone in Yuqing Palace and only occasionally interacted with other princes during archery training. He wasn’t particularly close to any of his younger brothers, and never had one cling to his leg while smearing snot and tears all over his clothes.
If his clothes got dirty, the laundry bureau would clean them—he didn’t mind that.
Though unfamiliar with Ninth Brother, he wouldn’t push away a little child clinging to him and wailing loudly. However, having no experience comforting children, he didn’t know how to respond seeing the little round child cry so pitifully.
When Yintang received no response from the Crown Prince after a long while, he thought he was being rejected and cried even louder.
Seeing the little round child’s eyes and nose reddened from crying, Yinreng sighed and tentatively patted his shoulder. “Don’t cry. I’ll have my personal eunuch Zhang Fu escort you. If anyone tries to stop you along the way, they won’t cause trouble when they see Zhang Fu.”
Ah, this Little Dizi—if you forgot your bow, just leave it! It’s not like it would disappear. Did you really need to specially return for it?
Well, since he’s crying so miserably, having Zhang Fu escort him should suffice, right?
The little round child continued crying, tightening his small arms around Yinreng’s waist. “I don’t want anyone else to escort me! I want Crown Prince Gege to carry me on your big horse! Then my mother won’t scold me for returning late, okay? Wu wu wu wu…”
Yinreng felt conflicted.
As Crown Prince, he indeed had Han Ama’s permission to ride horses within the imperial city. But carrying someone on horseback? This was his first time.
Moreover, he and Ninth Brother weren’t familiar enough for such intimacy.
Since birth, he’d either been raised by Han Ama’s side or lived alone in Yuqing Palace, developing solitary habits from childhood without ever wanting closeness with any younger brothers. Only Fourth Brother—who’d also been briefly raised by Han Ama—could exchange more than few words with him.
But today, having Little Dizi cling to his leg and call him “gege” felt unexpectedly pleasant.
Now the little fellow was crying so desperately, his small body shuddering with sobs, their robes soaked through with tears—he looked truly pitiful.
Maybe he should give him a ride? After all, Little Dizi had come to him specifically.
Yinreng sighed again.
He handed his bow to the nearby Anda, where a quick-witted eunuch promptly brought bandages to clean and wrap the tiger mouth of his right hand. The little eunuch who’d earlier fetched Yintang immediately brought Yinreng’s bay stallion to wait nearby.
Yinreng crouched down, scooped up the little round child in one motion, and mounted the horse while holding him.
“Sit properly,” he murmured lowly before whipping the horse to carry Yintang away. The watching crowd sighed in unified relief as dust clouds billowed behind the departing figures.
Thanks to Ninth Prince’s great mercy, their heads were safe for today.
Yinreng held the reins with one hand and supported Yintang with the other.
This was his first time riding a horse with someone else. He only felt Little Dizi obediently leaning against him, his chubby little hands carefully gripping his arm, like a small animal—dazed yet quite adorable.
For some reason, though his heart had felt like a piece of paper crumpled tightly just moments before, it had now completely smoothed out. The green mountains, clear waters, lush grass, and flying warblers depicted on it had all vividly come back to life.
For the first time, Yinreng felt that the seemingly endless pathways within the palace were not as dull as they used to be.
Although he was permitted to ride horses inside the palace, not all areas were accessible.
Yinreng reined in his horse before Qixiang Gate. Beyond this gate lay the Western Six Palaces, which he was not allowed to enter.
Yinreng dismounted and reached out to lift Yintang down from the horse. His stature was already akin to that of an adult, and he had no trouble with such tasks given his strength.
“Ninth Brother, I can only accompany you this far. Once you pass through this gate, you’ll have to walk on your own. Do you know the way?” Yinreng asked.
Yintang nodded obediently.
Yinreng thought for a moment. Looking at this little bundle, so small and somewhat dazed in his actions, he still felt uneasy. He called over a palace maid who had a kind face, inquired which palace she served in and her name, and then asked her to escort Yintang back to Yikun Palace.
“Ninth Brother, you may return now,” Yinreng said, bending down to pat Yintang’s shoulder. “It’s not yet curfew, so Consort Yi likely won’t scold you.”
He had heard that Consort Yi was the most doting on children in the entire palace. Little Dizi probably wouldn’t be reprimated when he returned.
“Mm! Thank you, Crown Prince Gege!” The little bundle smiled happily, tear stains still visible on his small face. Seeing this, Yinreng couldn’t resist reaching out to wipe his cheeks.
Yintang was taken aback.
Although Yinreng escorting him back was the result of his own pestering and acting spoiled, having his tears wiped away was not something Yintang had requested.
If it were his fifth brother, he might not have even noticed the tear stains on his face. As for his fourth brother, with his stubborn nature, he might not have been so considerate.
Who would have thought that Yinreng, who appeared aloof and as if he looked down on everything, was actually warm-hearted and gentle beneath the surface?
Yinreng noticed the little bundle’s body stiffen slightly and assumed that Ninth Brother found his gesture of wiping tears too intimate and uncomfortable. Embarrassed, he quickly withdrew his hand and straightened up in a fluster.
Since childhood, he had been surrounded and interacted solely with adults. He didn’t know how to get along with brothers of his own age or how to show concern for his younger brothers. He could only rely on the minimal etiquette and principles of fraternal relationships taught in Han literature to cautiously navigate these interactions.
Fortunately, his status as the Crown Prince and his aloof demeanor naturally created a sense of distance between him and his brothers, effectively masking his clumsiness in this regard.
Just now, he had acted on instinct, wiping Little Dizi’s tears away. But since Little Dizi wasn’t close to him, was this gesture overstepping? Would Little Dizi think that this older brother lacked propriety?
Just as Yinreng was feeling remorseful, he suddenly saw the little bundle grinning and waving at him, signaling for him to bend down.
Author’s Note:
Yintang: Crown Prince Gege is so wonderful [star-eyed]