Chapter Twenty-Four: You’re Raising a Son, Are You?

Meng Chuyue nodded thoughtfully. She pondered for a moment, then stopped walking. Shen Nanyuan noticed and paused as well, turning to her with a hint of confusion.

“Miss Shen,” Meng Chuyue spoke softly, her eyes clear and pure. “May I ask if you would be willing to be friends with me?”

Shen Nanyuan was taken aback by her words.

A bitter smile tugged at Meng Chuyue’s lips. “Though I am the daughter of the current Prime Minister, I am, after all, born out of wedlock. Even if my father cares for me, it doesn’t change the fact. Those around me are mostly courteous on the surface, acting close to me, but deep down, they despise me. So I have no true friends.”

“After meeting you today, I found that you are different from others even after knowing my identity. It surprised me greatly, so I wanted to make friends with you. Would you be willing?”

Shen Nanyuan regained her composure.

She mused inwardly that Meng Chuyue was likely here mostly for Xiao Yan. Now that they were acquainted, it would be much easier for her to visit Xiao Yan in the future. Though the novel said she entered the Duke of Zhenguo’s estate by climbing over the wall, which Shen Nanyuan had been quite curious about—the estate’s walls were anything but ordinary—Meng Chuyue’s sincerity made it impossible for Shen Nanyuan to refuse. She smiled warmly, her eyes curved: “Of course, I would.”

Meng Chuyue smiled. “Good. Then I’ll head back now. Someday, I’ll come to the Duke of Zhenguo’s estate to thank you in person.”

Watching her figure disappear into the room, Shen Nanyuan and Qingrui turned toward the eastern wing.

“The Prime Minister’s second daughter is renowned for her talents—proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, a famous lady of letters in the capital. Yet even she is looked down upon,” Qingrui continued. “Miss Meng is rather pitiable.”

Shen Nanyuan hummed softly. “Yes.”

Here, the distinction between legitimate and illegitimate offspring is clear. Meng Chuyue, though an illegitimate daughter, overshadowed the legitimate one, so gossip behind her back is hardly surprising.

Yet Shen Nanyuan frowned, suddenly recalling something.

In the original story, the assassins fled in panic and were not captured, unlike now. Their mastermind was revealed only much later, after a second assassination attempt on Meng Chuyue. But now, with the assassins captured, would the mistress of the Meng family be exposed so soon?

Surely the plot wouldn’t advance this quickly.

A faint unease tugged at her heart. After the exposure, the Prime Minister, mindful of public opinion, would only confine the mistress for several months. If the storyline was brought forward, it wouldn’t affect the main plot, but it left her feeling unsettled, as if something were stuck in her chest.

If external circumstances caused the main storyline to go astray, what then?

She pursed her lips, her expression growing solemn. But at this point, there was nothing more she could do but take things one step at a time.

As long as the plot between Meng Chuyue and Xiao Yan didn’t deviate, all would be well. Besides, now that she had befriended the heroine, if Xiao Yan bore any grudge against the Duke of Zhenguo’s estate in the future, Meng Chuyue would surely speak up for them. No matter what, Xiao Yan would have to consider the heroine’s feelings.

Her odds of survival had increased yet again.

—

Xiao Yan’s arm was injured, so he could not continue his martial training with Shen Sinian for now; after returning from Pu Yue Temple, he convalesced quietly in Shaohua Courtyard.

Uncle Li, worried that his wounds had barely healed before he was hurt again, prepared plenty of nourishing food for him. The only drawback was that Xiao Yan’s right hand was injured, making it difficult to hold chopsticks.

But Xiao Yan was stubborn and insisted on eating by himself, so each meal took a very long time.

No one rushed him.

The six assassins who attempted to kill Meng Chuyue were taken away by the Prime Minister’s people. The matter was kept quiet. Shen Nanyuan knew the Prime Minister would, as in the novel, confine the mistress of the Meng family—the plot had indeed advanced ahead of schedule.

With little to do these days, it was time for Xiao Yan to have his medicine changed. Shen Nanyuan and Qingrui went together to the side room, just as Uncle Li was applying medicine to Xiao Yan’s wound.

The injury was alarming to look at, and it was obviously painful during treatment. Xiao Yan’s face was pale, yet he made no sound. Qingrui, seeing Uncle Li’s stern expression—as if he felt the pain more keenly than Xiao Yan—couldn’t help but laugh. “Uncle Li, you’re raising a son!”

“At Xiao Yan’s age, he could well be my son.”

Uncle Li finished bandaging and sighed in relief. “All right, be more careful from now on.”

Xiao Yan nodded.

Shen Nanyuan quietly glanced at Uncle Li, then at Qingrui, saying nothing.

She dared not comment, for the father of this little ancestor was the emperor himself.

She took out the oiled paper she brought and placed it in front of Xiao Yan. “Here.”

Shen Nanyuan smiled cheerfully. “These are preserved fruits—sweet and sour. The medicine must hurt; eat these and it won’t hurt at all.”

She spoke so convincingly it sounded almost magical.

Xiao Yan lowered his gaze, but obediently took one and put it into his mouth. As she said, a faint sweet and sour taste spread across his tongue. Unused to it, he frowned slightly.

“So, do you like it?”

A hopeful voice rang in his ears. Xiao Yan paused, his expression calm. He lifted his head a little, meeting her bright, almost dazzling black eyes.

“It’s delicious.”

“Glad to hear it.” Shen Nanyuan said happily. “They’re all yours. If you like them, I’ll buy more.”

Qingrui protested. “Miss, you didn’t even ask if I like them.”

“Why ask you? If I did, you’d just eat them. You and Jin Zhu are always snacking.”

Qingrui thought for a moment, then laughed. “That’s true.”

Uncle Li, standing nearby, beamed at the three before him, thinking the young master from the Jun family had truly caused them trouble.

Their lady clearly had such a wonderful temperament.

“By the way,” Shen Nanyuan remembered, “the weather has changed and it’s getting cold. You should wear more layers. Later, Uncle Li will bring you a thick quilt.”

She felt herself rambling, and with Xiao Yan sitting so quietly before her, it was as if she were caring for her own child. “Don’t catch a chill.”

She worried endlessly.

Uncle Li didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take the quilt out to air now. It’ll be ready for tonight.”

He hurried out. Jin Zhu came in. “Miss, the Prime Minister’s second daughter is here. The general asks you to come.”

Well then.

She’s come to see Xiao Yan so soon?

The corners of Shen Nanyuan’s lips curved gently. “I’ll be right there.”

She turned, smiling sweetly. “I’ll leave now. Rest well.”

Xiao Yan’s heart stirred abruptly. He quickly lowered his head, his gaze falling on the preserved fruits on the table. Only when the footsteps faded into the distance did his tightly clenched hand beneath the table slowly relax.