As he entered her palace and dismissed everyone, his heart was particularly tense, fearing that she would ignore him in a fit of anger.
When he cautiously entered the inner hall and saw the mother and son already embracing in sleep, his heart nearly melted.
The little guy indeed resembled him greatly. She had raised him exceptionally well—with thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a rosy, adorable countenance—most importantly, he was intelligent.
The eunuchs of Changchun Palace had already reported to him that, despite the young master's tender age, he was remarkably articulate, responsive, and clever.
She seemed thinner than a few years ago, yet even more beautiful. Time seemed to have left no marks on her face; she was still the same serene and elegant woman, seemingly devoid of worldly desires. Even in sleep, her defenselessness was evident, and it was this very aspect of her that deeply enraptured him.
