As she spoke, she gently shook her head, the shimmer in her eyes almost spilling over.
That look—wanting to speak yet holding back, pretending to be magnanimous—was even more pitiful than outright tears.
Loose strands of hair clung to her pale cheeks, and her lips, reddened from being bitten earlier, carried a faint flush.
She had not suffered the slightest injury, yet she appeared more heartbreaking than if she had truly been struck.
“You!”
Meng Wanqing trembled with rage, pointing at Meng Wantang, her voice sharp and distorted. “Meng Wantang, have you lost your mind? How dare you put on an act in front of the Prince! You were never like this before! What exactly are you trying to do?!”
In her mind, Meng Wantang had always been the timid, cowardly wretch she could knead and bully at will.
Forget resisting—she had never even dared to raise her voice.
But now, she not only dared to dodge her slap, she even put on this aggrieved act before Xiao Jingyuan. It was utterly outrageous!
Xiao Jingyuan’s face had already been dark, and upon hearing Meng Wanqing’s shrill accusations—
Then seeing Meng Wantang on the verge of tears, the chill in his eyes deepened.
Holding Xiao Muyan in his arms, he stepped between the two women. His cold gaze swept over Meng Wanqing, his voice carrying unquestionable authority. “Enough!”
Startled by his sharp rebuke, Meng Wanqing stiffened and instinctively shut her mouth, though resentment and venom still burned in her eyes.
“As the Princess Consort, you not only lay hands on a concubine, but speak harshly and show no tolerance. With such a temperament, how are you fit to be a Princess—or a mother?”
Xiao Jingyuan’s voice was icy, each word like frozen steel.
“From this day forth, Muyan will be raised personally by Wantang. You have no right to interfere in any of his matters!”
With that, he carefully handed the child in his arms to Meng Wantang.
As if sensing his mother’s presence, the child reached out and clutched her clothes, calling softly, “Mother…”
Meng Wantang’s heart melted instantly. She hurriedly took him into her arms, holding him tightly, rubbing her nose gently against his soft hair.
Feeling the warmth of his small body, her eyes reddened completely.
She looked up at Xiao Jingyuan, mist still lingering in her gaze—mixed with grievance, gratitude, and a trace of subtle allure. Her long lashes trembled like butterfly wings, stirring something deep in one’s heart.
“Your Highness…” Meng Wanqing stared at Xiao Jingyuan in disbelief, her voice trembling. “You cannot treat me like this! I am your Princess Consort!”
Xiao Jingyuan did not look at her. His gaze rested on Meng Wantang holding the child.
A complicated emotion flickered in his eyes.
He recalled her words—how he was allergic to all women in the world.
All except her.
His heart stirred.
Unconsciously, he stepped toward Meng Wanqing, intending to test it.
At once, her face turned deathly pale.
She knew her own secrets best.
She also knew about Xiao Jingyuan’s allergy to women. If he approached her, it would surely trigger a reaction—
And her lies would be completely exposed.
Terrified, she staggered back, fear flooding her eyes as her voice cracked with tears. “Your Highness! I was wrong! I know I was wrong! Punish me however you wish—just please don’t come any closer!”
Her abnormal reaction confirmed Xiao Jingyuan’s suspicions.
He stopped.
The coldness in his eyes froze completely.
Meng Wantang, holding the child, leaned to one side and watched the scene unfold.
A faint, icy smile flickered in her eyes.
She gently patted Xiao Muyan in her arms, her voice thick with grievance as she choked out, “Your Highness, please do not blame my sister. She was only momentarily confused… It’s just that Muyan is still young. In the future, could you make sure he does not suffer any more wrongs?”
Her tears fell like pear blossoms in rain. Her soft, sweet voice carried an almost bewitching charm.
Though she was pleading for mercy, Xiao Jingyuan felt even more heartache for her—
And deeper disgust for Meng Wanqing’s hypocrisy.
Turning to Meng Wantang, the chill in his eyes softened slightly, replaced by a hint of tenderness. “Rest assured. With me here, no one will ever bully you and your son again.”
When Muyan was first held in Meng Wantang’s arms, his little body stiffened.
In the past, beside Meng Wanqing, he had always been cautious. The slightest mistake brought scolding.
She looked at him with impatience, complained that he ate too slowly, and when he cried, she would coldly set him aside—never once showing tenderness.
Only when “Aunt Wantang” secretly visited would she slip him sweet pastries, stroke his head with warm hands, and soothe him gently.
She was the only light in his gray childhood.
More than once, he had secretly wished that Auntie were his real mother.
But now, the embrace holding him was warm and soft, carrying the same comforting fragrance as in his memories.
He lifted his round eyes to look at the woman holding him.
The tenderness and heartache in her eyes were so genuine—without the slightest falsehood.
When he heard Xiao Jingyuan declare that he would be raised by Wantang from now on, realization dawned—
His wish had come true.
His small body relaxed instantly.
He wrapped his chubby arms tightly around Meng Wantang’s neck, burying his head in the crook of her neck as though clutching a lifeline, refusing to let go. In a soft, choked voice, he called, “Mother… Mother…”
Watching this, Meng Wanqing felt suffocated with rage, her face twisted.
She stared at Xiao Muyan, her gaze full of threat, though she forced gentleness into her voice. “Muyan, Mother is here! Come over and let Mother hold you! I am your real mother!”
But Xiao Muyan seemed not to hear.
Instead of moving, he shrank further into Meng Wantang’s arms, his small body trembling in obvious fear.
Feeling his terror clearly, Meng Wantang’s heart ached. She gently patted his back and looked coldly at Meng Wanqing. “Sister, Muyan is afraid of you. Do not force him.”
“You!” Meng Wanqing trembled with fury, yet before Xiao Jingyuan, she dared not lash out. She could only watch helplessly as Xiao Muyan avoided her like a venomous snake.
Xiao Jingyuan observed everything. The last trace of hesitation in his eyes vanished.
A child’s reaction was the purest truth.
If Muyan had truly been raised by Meng Wanqing, he would not fear her so deeply—nor depend on Meng Wantang so entirely.
His gaze toward Meng Wanqing turned utterly cold. He did not even spare her a glance.
Instead, he said directly to Meng Wantang, “It’s windy here. Take Muyan back to the room. Do not let him catch a chill.”
Meng Wanqing watched his gentleness toward Meng Wantang, compared to the coldness shown to herself.
Her nails dug deep into her palms.
Malice flared in her eyes.
Yet she could only grit her teeth and watch as Meng Wantang carried Xiao Muyan back inside, not daring to utter a single word in protest.
Once inside, Meng Wantang carefully examined the child in her arms.
Though three years old, Xiao Muyan was as thin as a one-year-old infant. His little face was sallow. Though his padded jacket was made of fine material, it hung loosely and ill-fitting, and his exposed wrists were so thin they seemed breakable.
Her heart felt pierced by needles.
In her previous life, she had failed to protect him.
In this life, she would never allow him to suffer again.
Carrying him to the table, she brushed the red mole on her little finger and, with a thought, retrieved a soft osmanthus cake from the Nurturing Jade space.
The pastry carried faint spiritual energy, sweet and tender—specially made within the space, perfect for a child.
“Muyan, try this. Is it tasty?” Meng Wantang held it to his lips, her voice gentler than water.
He looked up at the smile in her eyes and instinctively called, “Mother…”
That soft, dependent cry shattered her defenses completely.
Unable to hold back, she embraced him tightly, hot tears falling onto his hair.
“Yes, Mother is here.”
Her voice broke as she clutched him. “From now on, Mother will never let you suffer again. Never again.”
Seeing her cry, Xiao Muyan clumsily reached up with his little hands to wipe her tears.
His babyish voice was soft. “Mother, don’t cry. Muyan will be good.”
This scene happened to fall into Xiao Jingyuan’s eyes at the doorway.
He had followed to check on them, never expecting to witness such warmth—and sorrow.
The tenderness and tears in Meng Wantang’s eyes were so real.
Xiao Muyan’s dependence on her was unmistakable.
A complicated emotion surged in his heart—
With a trace of stirring he himself did not notice.
Silently, he turned and instructed the attendant behind him, “Bring the finest tonics from the storeroom, clothes for the child, toys—send them all here, the more the better. Also, have the meal served here. I will dine with Wantang and Muyan.”