The first to arrive at the Hongwen Institute were the Prince of Pingnan and his consort.
They had originally planned to visit their son in the palace today, but upon entering, they heard that their son had gotten into a fight. Fearing he might be at a disadvantage, they hurried over.
By then, Guo Xiong and Sui had already stopped, separated by palace attendants.
The snowy ground was a mess, littered with traces of their scuffle, patches of dark earth exposed beneath the pristine white snow.
Needless to say, the two boys didn’t look much better.
Guo Xiong, in particular, had been pinned to the ground and beaten by the younger Sui. His expensive fur cloak was torn in places, his face smeared with snot and tears as he sat wailing loudly.
The sound was grating.
Sui stood nearby, surrounded by attendants. His clothes were relatively neat, though his cloak was dusted with dirt, his fair cheeks still flushed with lingering anger, his lips pursed.
A palace maid knelt to check his injuries, then deliberately loosened Sui’s hair and smudged more dirt onto his clothes.
Glancing at Guo Xiong, she whispered, "Young master, remember to cry when the time comes. If he cries, you cry louder and more pitifully, understand?"
After all, the child who cries loudest gets the candy. Did they think their boy was the only one who could wail?
With Sui’s delicate, fairy-like looks, his tears would surely win more sympathy than that wild bear of a boy.
From a distance, the Prince and Princess Consort of Pingnan heard their son’s cries and quickened their steps.
At the sight of Guo Xiong’s state, the Princess Consort gasped in horror, "My son! Who did this to you?"
Seeing his parents, Guo Xiong bawled even louder, his parents’ expressions twisting with heartache and fury.
The Princess Consort pulled her son close and demanded, "Who is responsible? Step forward at once!"
Her sharp gaze swept the crowd, immediately landing on Sui, who was shielded by attendants. Her eyes flashed with malice. "Was it you?"
"You’re the one who hurt my son!"
"Whose child are you, to dare lay a hand on my son? Name yourself! This princess will have your family kneel and beg for forgiveness!"
The Princess Consort, dressed in lavish robes, appeared to be in her late twenties—far younger than her husband, the Prince of Pingnan, who was over fifty.
After bearing Guo Xiong, she had replaced the ailing former princess consort as the mistress of Pingnan’s household. Arrogant by nature, she hadn’t tempered her ways even in the capital.
The palace attendants inwardly scoffed. Like father, like son—no wonder Guo Xiong turned out the way he did.
Sui’s eyes were red, but he remained silent.
He wouldn’t speak a word until his family arrived.
For a moment, silence reigned.
No one acknowledged the Princess Consort’s fury or her demands. Finally, one of Guo Xiong’s attendants, despite his own injuries, stammered, "P-Princess Consort, that’s Consort Zhao’s son."
"Consort Zhao?"
The couple immediately recalled the rumors of the current imperial favorite—Lady Yun, recently elevated to Consort Zhao, standing unrivaled in the palace.
They had rushed over upon hearing their son was in trouble, unaware his opponent was Consort Zhao’s child.
Involving the imperial family, the Princess Consort faltered, glancing at her husband.
The Prince of Pingnan stayed silent, his expression grim. A sense of foreboding crept over him.
When he didn’t speak, the Princess Consort muttered, "Does being Consort Zhao’s son give him the right to hit others?"
Besides, he was just the son of a consort’s former marriage, not even a prince. Her confidence returned.
"Fine. Apologize to my son, and our family will let this go."
She looked at Sui, her tone magnanimous.
Almost as soon as she finished speaking, commotion erupted in the distance.
Leading the procession were the Imperial Guards, clad in armor and armed with blades, forming two disciplined rows to clear the way.
Behind them, the golden dragon head of the imperial carriage gleamed blindingly in the sunlight as the Emperor’s procession approached, surrounded by attendants in a grand display of power.
"Who dares demand that my son kneel and apologize?"
The Emperor’s voice boomed like thunder, striking fear into every heart.
Stunned silence followed.
As the carriage arrived, the crowd knelt in unison:
"Long live His Majesty—"
Emperor Jingxuan did not bid them rise. His gaze swept over them, his imperial aura oppressive, suffocating.
With a slight gesture, the golden carriage halted, and he stepped out, striding straight toward Sui.
Noticing the boy’s disheveled hair, dirtied clothes, and a faint scratch on his face, his eyes turned icy.
"Did you fight?"
Sui looked up at him, wide-eyed, his reddened eyes welling further.
He had heard those words—"my son"—clear as day.
Was this the secret his mother had meant to reveal?
Was this towering, majestic man truly his father?
Meeting the Emperor’s warm, paternal gaze, Sui’s nose stung, and he averted his eyes to the ground.
"Your Majesty, what—what did you just say?"
The Prince of Pingnan stood frozen, his voice unsteady as he voiced the question gnawing at him. He prayed his aged ears had deceived him.
He stared at Sui. "Whose... whose son is he?"
Emperor Jingxuan glanced at him. "My son."
With that, he bent down, scooped Sui into his arms, and said tenderly,
"Come, call me ‘Imperial Father.’"
Perched securely in the Emperor’s embrace, Sui pressed his lips together, silent for a moment before murmuring,
"...Imperial Father."
That single word reached not only the Emperor’s ears but everyone present, sending shockwaves through the crowd.
"My good son!"
Emperor Jingxuan laughed heartily, utterly unbothered by the dirt staining his dragon robes.
His mirth, however, did nothing to ease the Prince and Princess Consort of Pingnan, whose faces had gone deathly pale.
This was the Emperor’s son!
The Emperor’s smile faded as he looked down at the kneeling family of three, his voice chilling.
"Sui is my flesh and blood—my fourth son, the Fourth Prince of Great Qi, a descendant of the Qi bloodline."
"Guo Quan, is your wife suggesting that I kneel and kowtow to your son?"
His tone was deceptively light, but his eyes were glacial. He hadn’t even addressed the Prince by his title—just his name.
At his words, the Imperial Guards fanned out, encircling the Pingnan household with weapons drawn, their killing intent palpable.
The Prince of Pingnan knew they had crossed a line no one dared approach. He kowtowed hard, forehead striking the ground.
"Your Majesty, spare us! This subject would never dare!"
"There must be some misunderstanding! My wife meant no such thing, nor would I ever!"
The Princess Consort, trembling with terror, stammered, "Y-Your Majesty, this humble subject had no idea this was the Fourth Prince! Had I known—"
Emperor Jingxuan cut her off. "Had you known, you wouldn’t have been so overbearing, is that it?"
"Preposterous!" He sneered. "So the Guo family’s tradition is bullying the weak? How enlightening."
Sweat poured down the Prince of Pingnan’s face as he pleaded, "Your Majesty, my wife acted out of a mother’s love! Seeing our son injured, she lost her senses—he is our only son!"
"Please, in your mercy, show leniency..."
The Emperor’s gaze flicked to Guo Xiong’s unmarked face.
"Injured? Where?"
