Shen Xihe pushed Xiao Huayong aside, and Xiao Huayong immediately composed himself, pulling her along as she hastily straightened her attire. "I'll go with you," he said.
For a moment, Shen Xihe hesitated. She had intended to formally summon Xiao Junshu, allowing the father and son to reunite and recognize each other properly.
Unexpectedly, the moment he returned, he had clung to her relentlessly. Over the past three days, much of their time had been spent in frivolous indulgence. Looking back now, she could hardly believe it was she who had allowed him such liberties!
Averting her gaze from Xiao Huayong, Shen Xihe nodded in agreement.
By the time the couple arrived at Xiao Junshu’s bedchamber, Sui Axi had already finished bandaging the young emperor’s wound.
Sui Axi watched as faint traces of blood seeped through the white silk wrapped around the injury—a detail the emperor had specifically instructed—and then noticed the tall man striding in swiftly behind the empress dowager.
He felt slightly dazed, yet a glimmer of understanding dawned on him.
"At ease. How is His Majesty? Where is he injured? How severe is it?" Shen Xihe waved her hand, dismissing the need for Sui Axi and the others to bow, as she hurried toward Xiao Junshu, firing questions along the way.
Seeing the wound on her son’s arm, Shen Xihe felt as though the pain were her own. The past few days spent in frivolity with Xiao Huayong had caused her to neglect her son, and she was overwhelmed with guilt.
"Mother," the young emperor greeted, deliberately ignoring the radiant, imposing man whose presence alone commanded everyone’s attention. He smiled innocently at Shen Xihe. "Mother, I’m fine. I was just distracted and accidentally hurt my arm. It’s only a superficial wound. Zhu Sheng overreacted and disturbed you unnecessarily."
"It was this servant’s fault. Seeing His Majesty injured, I panicked and immediately sent someone to Yonghe Palace," Zhu Sheng quickly apologized.
No one could have predicted—not even Zhu Sheng himself—that this eunuch, who had been kept by Shen Xihe for his pragmatism, would one day rise to such prominence, becoming the Grand Steward of the new emperor and overseeing the entire Directorate of Palace Attendants.
"It’s my fault for neglecting you these past few days," Shen Xihe said, stroking her son’s head. At eight years old, Xiao Junshu already reached her chin. Perhaps in another year, he would be as tall as she was.
The lanky child already carried the dignity of a ruler and the beginnings of mature, independent thought. Such intimate moments between them would only grow rarer with time.
"Please don’t blame yourself, Mother, or how could I ever feel at ease?" Xiao Junshu quickly reassured her. "You’ve been alone all these years, and now you’ve finally welcomed back..." He glanced briefly at Xiao Huayong before lowering his head and adding softly, "I understand everything."
He resembled a lost fawn—bewildered, hesitant, and cautious.
Shen Xihe’s heart ached at the sight. She pulled him into her embrace. "My little goldfish, you are the most thoughtful."
Rubbing against his mother’s arm, Xiao Junshu nestled in the crook of her elbow, his eyes—so like Shen Xihe’s—wide open as he smiled faintly at Xiao Huayong.
Xiao Huayong’s dark gaze fell upon the bandage on Xiao Junshu’s arm. The corner of his lips lifted slightly as he instructed Sui Axi and the others, "Leave us."
Zhu Sheng promptly led Sui Axi and all the palace attendants and maids out of the chamber. The vast bedchamber was now occupied only by the family of three.
"Little Goldfish," Shen Xihe released Xiao Junshu and took his hand, leading him to stand before Xiao Huayong. She looked down at her son, her expression gentle. "This is your father."
Shen Xihe had told Xiao Junshu about Xiao Huayong’s feigned death when the boy was six years old.
As for whether Xiao Huayong would ever return or when he might come back, Shen Xihe had not known and had never made any promises to her son.Mother and son never avoided mentioning Xiao Huayong, and she could sense Xiao Junshu's reverence for him, as well as his anticipation for Xiao Huayong's return.
In her mind, Xiao Junshu should have been overjoyed.
Was he?
Well, three days ago, he was.
But now, there was a hint of resistance!
This father he had never met—the moment he returned, Xiao Junshu felt he had lost his mother's care.
All these years, Shen Xihe had been both mother and father to him, raising him single-handedly. From birth, he had been the emperor. Aside from his mother, even his uncle, while affectionate, treated him with respect and formality.
Their care was genuine, but they never forgot the distinction between ruler and subject.
Only his mother made him feel that, beyond being the emperor, he was also an ordinary person—free to laugh and play, to show vulnerability, without having to feign fearlessness.
Only in his mother's presence could he truly be just Xiao Junshu and Jinyuer, not the emperor who served as a model for the entire realm.
With this man's return, he feared that even this one haven of freedom and ease might disappear.
"Father!" In front of Shen Xihe, Xiao Junshu naturally put on a delighted smile and rushed headlong into Xiao Huayong's arms.
The impact was so forceful that Xiao Huayong staggered back several steps before steadying himself, instinctively catching his son, who was smiling falsely at him.
"Ah..." Before Xiao Huayong could speak, Xiao Junshu let out a suppressed sound of pain.
"Did you touch the wound?" Shen Xihe hurried forward to check Xiao Junshu's arm.
Xiao Huayong was indeed holding his arm, but he had deliberately avoided the wound. However, Xiao Junshu had subtly shifted his own hand to misdirect Shen Xihe's attention.
"It was my recklessness, Mother. Please don't blame Father. If Father hadn't caught me, I might have knocked us both over," Xiao Junshu said apologetically to Shen Xihe. "I used to rush into Uncle's arms like this, and Uncle always caught me. I thought Father would be able to as well..."
Listening to his son's words, the corners of Xiao Huayong's lips curved even higher.
Excellent. Truly his son.
After all these years, Shen Xihe no longer scrutinized the hidden meanings in the words of those she trusted or felt close to. Naturally, she didn't notice that her son had inherited his father's cunning and, at their first meeting, had served his father a cup of subtle bitterness—like fine tea with an underlying sting.
Still, in front of their son, she had to uphold her husband's dignity: "Your father was caught off guard. You and your uncle have spent a long time together and share a tacit understanding. Once you spend more time with your father, it won't be like this anymore."
"Mother is right," Xiao Junshu nodded, adopting a humble and receptive demeanor. Then he turned and looked innocently at Xiao Huayong. "Father, why aren't you saying anything? Is Jinyuer not good? Did I hurt you just now? Are you angry? Or... do you not like Jinyuer?"
In Shen Xihe's eyes, Xiao Junshu was simply a child who had never met his father and was now overly anxious and nervous, afraid that his father might not like him.
Over the years, Xiao Junshu had indeed maintained imperial dignity in public, but in front of Shen Xihe, he was pure and childlike. It wasn't an act for his mother—it was just that in her presence, he naturally revealed his true, childish nature.
So Shen Xihe looked at Xiao Huayong, her eyes filled with expectation and urgency.
Xiao Huayong felt that if he hesitated even a moment longer or misspoke in the slightest, his wife's gaze would quickly turn into one of reproach.If he were to expose Xiao Junshu, Shen Xihe would only think that he disliked Xiao Junshu even more.
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