The Crown Prince's concubine subtly glanced at Lu Chao's retreating figure before pressing a hand to her chest and letting out a relieved sigh.
"Perhaps the crowd startled the child. Thankfully, the imperial blood runs deep—he seems to have settled now."
Imperial Concubine Xu patted her hand reassuringly.
"Children are often like this. But with so many watching over him today, the Little Imperial Grandson will be safe. You needn't worry."
As soon as the ritual ceremony concluded, the nursemaid attending the Little Imperial Grandson took him from Prince Kang's arms.
Suddenly, Imperial Physician Mo appeared at the hall's entrance, panting heavily, his medical case in hand. The elderly man, well past fifty, was drenched in sweat, his robes disheveled from haste.
A familiar official hurried over. "Imperial Physician Mo, has something happened?"
Bent at the waist, the physician took several moments to catch his breath before wiping his brow with urgency.
"Wasn't I summoned because the Little Imperial Grandson was crying uncontrollably? Where is he? Let me examine him at once—we mustn't delay!"
The official blinked in confusion.
"The Little Imperial Grandson is right there. He was crying earlier, but he's calmed now."
The Crown Prince's concubine stepped forward with an apologetic expression.
"It must have been my maids acting rashly out of concern. They shouldn’t have troubled you without consulting me first. Please forgive their presumption, Imperial Physician Mo."
The physician’s stern expression softened slightly as he clasped his hands in deference.
"You honor me too much, Your Highness. This old servant would never dare take offense. The maids were merely loyal to their duty. My only concern was the Little Imperial Grandson’s well-being. Since all is well, I shall take my leave."
Just then, Prince Kang stepped forward, blocking his path.
"Wait. Since you’re here, Imperial Physician Mo, why not examine the Little Imperial Grandson properly? Better safe than sorry."
Imperial Concubine Xu quickly agreed.
"Yes, yes! He was crying terribly earlier, and we still don’t know why. At his age, he can’t speak for himself—best to be thorough."
Imperial Physician Mo took the child and conducted a careful examination, gently checking his forehead and limbs before loosening the swaddling cloth.
"Your Highness, Your Grace, the Little Imperial Grandson was wrapped too tightly, restricting his breath. Combined with the earlier fright, it caused his distress. I’ll prescribe a calming tonic. Once he takes it and rests, he’ll be fine."
The tension in the room dissolved at his words.
The banquet resumed its lively atmosphere, guests toasting and laughing merrily.
Prince Kang held his wine cup with a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
As he raised the cup, he subtly turned, and beneath the table, Zhou Qingyuan swiftly passed him something.
"Tested?"
Zhou Qingyuan gave a barely perceptible nod, his voice a whisper.
"Yes. The needle was dipped in poison. A prick would cause instant limb weakness, but the toxin is weak and thin—effects would fade within moments, leaving no trace."
Prince Kang’s grip tightened around the cup, his knuckles whitening. This trap had been set for him.
Had he dropped the child, the consequences would have been dire—accusations of negligence, even malice toward his own kin.
He inhaled deeply, forcing down his fury.
"Investigate this. Now."
His gaze swept the crowd, mentally cataloging potential conspirators.
With Prince Kang nearly ambushed under their watch, Zhou Qingyuan and Chen Ning'an could no longer stay idle. They excused themselves and slipped away.
Lu Chao, left with little to do, sipped his wine and idly observed the guests—until one figure stood out.
Compared to Imperial Concubine Xu’s warmth, Lady Murong, the Crown Prince’s concubine’s mother, was strikingly aloof. Seated rigidly, her expression remained stern, offering only the barest polite remarks during rituals. Not a trace of joy touched her face.
Lu Chao’s eyes flicked back to the concubine. Despite sharing the same table, mother and daughter exchanged neither words nor glances.
Back at the Lu estate, curiosity gnawed at him until he finally asked Lady Lu about Lady Murong.
Lady Lu sighed softly.
"We’ve rarely crossed paths, but I’ve heard she was once kind and generous. After her son’s death, she withdrew completely. Were it not for the Little Imperial Grandson’s celebration, she might never have left her home."
Lu Chao nodded in understanding—now the other ladies’ indifference made sense.
Just then, Xingyao barreled into the room like a tiny whirlwind, pouting.
"Third Brother! You’ve been scribbling those weird symbols all day and won’t play with me!"
Lady Lu frowned.
"Enough nonsense. Your brother is occupied with important matters, unlike you, who still behaves like a wild colt. Did you finish the calligraphy I assigned you before I left?"
Xingyao’s eyes darted guiltily.
"Y-yes…"
Lady Lu held out her hand. "Show me."
The child shrank back.
One glance at the page—streaked with chaotic, ink-blobbed "characters"—and Lady Lu raised a threatening hand.
"This is what you call writing? You clearly put no effort in! Redo it properly. No leaving your room until it’s done!"
Xingyao’s lip wobbled as she turned to Lu Chao.
"Third Brother…"
Lu Chao stifled a laugh and interceded gently.
"Mother, she’s still young. Let me supervise her calligraphy, and afterward, we’ll play in the courtyard. Would that suffice?"
Lady Lu shot him a look, her sternness easing slightly.
"You all spoil her rotten. Fine—but Xingyao, if I catch you slacking again, the bamboo rod will make an appearance."
Xingyao nodded frantically.
"I’ll write neatly! I promise!"
Once Lady Lu left, Lu Chao examined the "calligraphy" and burst out laughing. The ink squiggles resembled earthworms more than words.
Grinning, he teased,
"Who could possibly read this? Is it some secret language? Next time, just claim it’s foreign script—might fool someone."
Xingyao flushed crimson.
"Third Brother!! The brush is too slippery! I can’t hold it right!"
Suddenly, a memory flashed in Lu Chao’s mind.
He snatched up a brush and swiftly sketched a strange symbol on paper—rough but recognizable.
Xingyao peered at it, puzzled.
"What’s that? Are you copying my doodles now?"
Lu Chao's gaze remained fixed on the symbols on the paper, his frown deepening. After a moment, he suddenly looked up, a flash of realization in his eyes, and murmured under his breath.
"So that's it... Now I understand what was written on the palace wall! It's Tartar script!"
Xingyao was utterly confused and was about to ask more when she saw Lu Chao hastily gather the calligraphy sheets and stride toward the door. She quickly called out,
"Third Brother, where are you going? Aren't you going to practice calligraphy with me?"
Without turning back, Lu Chao replied,
"I have urgent business to attend to. Practice on your own for now, and I’ll play with you when I return!"
Before his words even faded, he had already vanished outside.
Standing where she was, Xingyao pouted and grumbled,
"Liar! Hmph!"
She glanced down at her own crooked handwriting, sighed, and picked up the brush again, determined to write properly this time.
