Chapter 60
Chapter 60
Fusheng carried Shengsheng down from the carriage.
The reason was simple.
Her legs were too short to manage it herself.
Humiliated, she covered her face and buried it in his chest, refusing to look up.
Fusheng patted her back and teased, “Do not worry. You will grow.”
Then he ordered the servants to bring several sets of children’s clothing.
They worked quickly and asked no questions. Within minutes, they returned with a complete assortment of dresses, shoes, jewelry for a little girl, and even toys.
Shengsheng had just changed and stepped from behind the screen when hurried footsteps approached.
A man in dark green entered, his face as flawless as jade.
His gaze naturally dropped.
It met Shengsheng’s.
The little girl stood timidly beside a screen far too large for her. She wore a peach-colored satin dress embroidered with butterflies among flowers. Two braids hung before her shoulders, and her wide eyes made her look frightened by the newcomer.
Weiqing Song stopped.
With a peculiar expression, he turned toward Fusheng.
“Why is there a child here? Is she your illegitimate daughter?”
Amusement entered Fusheng’s eyes.
Holding an exquisite pellet drum, he shook it several times and addressed Shengsheng gently.
“Come. Greet your Uncle Song.”
Weiqing frowned.
Why should she call him uncle?
Surely elder brother would be more appropriate.
He swallowed the correction before speaking.
When the little girl came closer, his pupils contracted.
The earlier distance had obscured her features.
Now he could see the resemblance and the red mole in precisely the same place.
She was the very image of Shengsheng Zhou.
Weiqing’s fingers trembled.
He looked at Fusheng with devastated accusation.
He had believed his friend was not the sort of man who exploited a vulnerable woman.
Yet the two of them had produced a child?
Satisfied by Weiqing’s misunderstanding, Fusheng smiled in triumph.
*Stop shaking your pupils, Uncle Song. Why not look a little more carefully?*
The familiar voice entered Weiqing’s mind.
His imagination, which had already produced an elaborate tale titled *The Palace Maid Fled Pregnant, and the False Noble Consort Crossed a Thousand Miles in Search of His Child*, halted abruptly.
Shengsheng?
“Xiaohong, we have been apart only a few days, yet you have grown younger.”
Weiqing regarded the child version of Shengsheng with a complicated expression.
She bowed unsteadily.
“This servant greets the Crown Prince.”
Before she could rise, Weiqing swept her into his arms.
Caught off guard, Shengsheng wrapped both arms around his neck.
Weiqing bounced the small child once and started walking out with her.
Fusheng blocked him without expression.
“Where are you going?”
Weiqing stroked one of Shengsheng’s braids.
“To the Yong Kingdom. Siran Ming should have a look at her.”
Then he lowered his head toward the bewildered Shengsheng.
“But first, call me Daddy.”
Shengsheng stared at him.
She was going to slap him twice.
Naturally, Weiqing did not succeed.
Fusheng drove him back to the Eastern Palace with overwhelming force, utterly ignoring his shameless pleas.
“Mother of my child, let me hold her a little longer. Truly, only a little.”
After the “father” had been thrown out, Shengsheng remained dumbfounded.
She had never seen Weiqing behave like such a scoundrel.
Was he always like this before Fusheng?
How had Fusheng not beaten him to death?
Fusheng was delighted to expose his faults. He told Shengsheng story after story from Weiqing’s youth, completely overturning the calculating, serene, elegant image the Crown Prince presented today.
Still…
Shengsheng listened happily, then remembered something.
The original novel had described Fusheng as proud by nature and far too honorable to speak ill of others–a villain, yes, but a gentleman of impeccable conduct.
She looked up at him.
Fusheng’s eyes were narrowed in reminiscence as he prepared to expose every humiliating story about Weiqing at once.
Shengsheng began seriously questioning the original novel.
Fusheng abruptly stopped.
She looked at him in confusion.
Why had he fallen silent?
He had just reached the part where Weiqing went into the mountains to catch a wild chicken, only for the bird to chase and peck him all the way home.
Fusheng, the gentleman of impeccable conduct, smiled and shook his head.
“I just remembered. Do you not wish to see Zhiyu Jiang?”
At the mention of Xiaoyu, Shengsheng shook her head like a pellet drum.
How could she let Zhiyu see her like this?
Fusheng arched a brow.
“The Crown Prince of Zhen already knows. Why can Zhiyu not?”
*Now you call him the Crown Prince of Zhen instead of Weiqing Song?*
After the inward jab, Shengsheng answered obediently.
“The Crown Prince is clever and can naturally understand the mystery. But if Xiaoyu sees this servant, she will be upset…”
*Weiqing invents an explanation by himself. I never need to say a word. Xiaoyu will grab me and refuse to let go, shout happily that Shengsheng has become little, then play with me like a doll!*
Fusheng truly could not refute that reasoning.
Weiqing had not asked once why Shengsheng had become a child. He had undoubtedly invented another elaborate explanation and resolved the mystery to his own satisfaction.
As for Zhiyu…
Remembering the amnesiac heroine’s behavior, Fusheng could offer no reassurance.
A knock sounded outside.
Then someone called loudly, “Your Grace, His Majesty requests your presence.”
During Fusheng’s absence, a disguised double had dealt with Xunlan Liu.
Now that Fusheng had returned, the double had naturally withdrawn.
“Leave.”
Fusheng answered coldly, rose, and straightened his robes. The familiar irritation returned to his face.
His temper always worsened after meeting Xunlan.
To make life easier for the servants beneath him, Shengsheng usually devised something delicious to eat and improved his mood.
She was shorter now, but surely her cooking skills remained.
Shengsheng examined her two chubby little hands.
When she stepped outside, the eunuch waiting by the door jumped.
“Little Ancestor, why have you come out?”
He did not know who she was. Given how the Crown Prince of Zhen and the Noble Consort doted upon her, however, treating her carefully could not be wrong.
Shengsheng asked in her milky voice, “Is there a small kitchen?”
The eunuch shook his head with an awkward expression. The residence had no private kitchen.
“Are you hungry? Shall this servant fetch you some pastries?”
Naturally, that would not do.
The young eunuch followed the little girl with two braids, looking helpless.
Why would a perfectly good child run toward the kitchens?
As Shengsheng considered what she might cook, a shrill voice sounded ahead.
“The imperial procession is before you! Why have you not knelt? Which palace do you belong to?”