Just as Yunchuan was comfortably held in the arms, enjoying the gentle breastfeeding of the motherly female pope, and fell asleep comfortably.
On the other side, his fellow brother Tang San had a completely different experience from him!
A small village, Holy Soul Village.
Inside the only blacksmith shop.
The environment of this blacksmith shop was slovenly, filled with the smell of smoke and rust all day long, and the annoying sound of iron hammering.
In the inner room, on a relatively clean bed.
A baby still in swaddling clothes suddenly opened his eyes. His eyes were bright and lively, and he didn't look like an ordinary baby at all. It looked like the eyes of an adult.
"Ding! Ding! Ding!..."
Listening to the sound of iron hammering coming from outside the house, I felt my stomach start to rumble. Tang San had no choice but to open his mouth and howl: "Wa! Wa!!!"
He was no match for the gifted Yun Chuan. He was only three months old, unable to even crawl, his voice barely developed, let alone speak.
"Dang..."
The sound of iron hammering outside abruptly ceased.
A moment later,
the door opened.
A middle-aged man, drenched in sweat and looking about thirty or forty, walked in. In his rough hands, he held a small bowl of a yellowish-white liquid. The faint aroma of milk suggested it was some kind of animal's milk.
Upon seeing the man enter, the infant Tang San's sobbing ceased, his eyes wide open, staring intently at the bowl in his hands. For him, starving now, that small bowl of milk was the very essence of life!
Tang Hao, holding a bowl of heated goat's milk left over from last night, slowly walked over to the bedside, lifted the baby up, and cradled him in his arms. The scent of days without a bath, a mixture of sweat, urine, and the rusty smell of fireworks, enveloped Tang San.
Ugh!
If Yunchuan, currently enjoying the Pope's gentle embrace, came here, he'd probably be vomiting from the stench! But Tang San had already grown accustomed to the smell. Though he'd felt uneasy at first, he'd slowly grown accustomed to it.
After all, this was his father, and he still depended on him for survival. There was nothing he could do but endure it.
Tang Hao held the small bowl in one hand, the spoon in the other. Tiny Tang San leaned against his chest, staring intently at the goat milk on the spoon...
He fed the child in his arms, spoonful after spoonful, his expression unchanged the entire time, a look of dejection and dejection. He even treated feeding the child as a mere task. He showed no trace of a father's love. From the moment his wife sacrificed herself, his heart had died.
Tang San sipped the goat milk, his empty stomach gradually warming. Frankly, the taste of this small bowl of stale goat milk wasn't great. Not only was it pungent, but it was also because it had been sitting overnight. It had a subtle sour taste.
But there was no other way; he'd go hungry if he didn't eat it. Plus, he'd been raised on this kind of goat's milk since birth. Once he got used to it, it was fine.
If Yunchuan could see how his fellow brother, Tang San, had been treated since childhood, he'd definitely be grateful he'd been snatched away by the Spirit Hall.
Good people!
Those who snatched him weren't harming him, they were saving him from suffering!
...
Spirit Hall.
Ever since awakening Bibi Dong's maternal instinct with a muffled "Mom," Yunchuan's already comfortable life had become even more blissful.
He then moved out of the tiny nursery where he'd lived for over three months and into Bibi Dong's boudoir, sharing a bed with the Pope and enjoying her personal care. His previous wet nurse had been dismissed. Apparently, the Pope intended to take on the task of nursing him herself. This way, she could express her overflowing maternal love and, by the way, alleviate the milk engorgement that had plagued her for years.
After completing the necessary social engagements and official duties for the Pope each day, Bibi Dong devoted the rest of her time to Yunchuan. She truly treated him like her own child, raising him like one.
Yunchuan, too, indulged himself in a coquettish act, striving to please the woman who would soon be his protector within the Spirit Hall. He exerted every ounce of skill, acting like a lovable child.
And so,
a month passed.
Yunchuan was four months old.
He could now barely stand, walk unsteadily, and speak clearly. His cries of "Mommy" were especially sweet to Bibi Dong's heart!
Of course, he still couldn't speak complete sentences. Yunchuan didn't want to arouse suspicion. A four-month-old baby who could barely speak words could be considered gifted. But if he could communicate like a normal person, it would be too abnormal. It would clearly tell everyone that there was something wrong with this baby.
Therefore, Yunchuan had always maintained a relatively high level of talent, but not to an exaggerated degree. He feared appearing too outrageous and risking persecution from treacherous individuals.
That day.
After feeding, Bibi Dong went out to attend to government affairs as usual, leaving Yunchuan alone to play in the room. Many of the furniture that could hurt a child had been cleared out, replaced by a large pile of toys.
After Yunchuan became a baby, it seemed as if his body had affected his mind, so he was bored and fiddling with the toys. He actually found it quite amusing, acting just like a normal child. It can be said that playing the role of a child has become ingrained in him, and it has become second nature.
"Click!"
The door opened gently.
Yunchuan, who was sitting on a blanket on the floor, fiddling with a Rubik's Cube-like toy, thought it was Bibi Dong who had returned. He instinctively turned to look, and the word "Mom" was about to escape his lips. Suddenly, the word stuck in his throat, unable to utter.
He opened the door, and instead of Bibi Dong's mature and delicate figure, a small, frail figure emerged.
It was a little girl, about ten years old.
Her long golden hair seemed to gleam, her equally golden eyes were watery, and her charming features were exquisitely crafted, like a masterpiece of divine perfection. Combined with her petite figure and the tiny white dress, she was the epitome of a perfect lolita!
But this time, the blonde stared with hostility at the baby sitting on the carpet, clutching a Rubik's Cube. As if someone had stolen her favorite toy, her fair, delicate face puffed up as she glared at him angrily.
"Qian Renxue!"
Yun Chuan instantly knew who this little blonde girl was after seeing her features. After all, with her appearance and the fact that she could so brazenly open the Pope's boudoir, it was clear that no one other than the Pope's own daughter would have the guts to do that.