Chapter 3

That night, perhaps because she had slept enough during the day, Pei Yun found herself neither eager nor daring to sleep at night. She feared that if she fell asleep and then woke, her dream would vanish. Eventually, unable to resist any longer, she dozed off fitfully for a while, only to awaken early the next morning with a mind still burdened by worries.

Before dawn, Pei Yun glanced at Chen’er sleeping beside her. For the first time, her heart felt a profound calm. After a long while, she quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake anyone.

She had little milk, so when the child woke hungry several times during the night, he drank from the wet nurse instead. This time, however, he did not resist; after being burped and fed to fullness, he settled back beside Pei Yun without crying or fussing and soon fell into a deep sleep.

The scholar who had been keeping watch left to rest around the fourth watch, and the palace maid on duty changed shifts. Hearing a noise, the one who entered was Shumo.

When Shumo came to relieve the scholar, she had already heard from him that Pei Yun had stayed in the side hall to sleep with the little imperial grandson. She was genuinely delighted, relieved that the lady had finally regained some strength.

Seeing Pei Yun rise from bed, Shumo hurried forward, but before she could speak, Pei Yun quietly asked, “Has the eldest imperial grandson woken?”

Shumo paused for a moment, estimating the time. “By rights, he should have.”

Pei Yun nodded. “There’s still some time before leaving for the Gengzhuo Pavilion. Have the eldest imperial grandson come over after finishing his breakfast.”

Upon hearing this, Shumo pursed her lips, instinctively thinking her lady might be about to admonish the boy, but she obeyed, personally going to the eldest imperial grandson’s study hall.

After Shumo left, Pei Yun returned to the main hall and had someone assist her in changing clothes. Barely the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, a series of hurried footsteps sounded outside. Looking up, she saw Li Jin trotting towards the hall.

But as he crossed the threshold and suddenly saw her, he hurriedly slowed his pace, nervously smoothing the folds of his robe and respectfully bowing with a proper gesture. “Your son pays respects to you, Mother Consort.”

Pei Yun studied the six-year-old boy before her. He hadn’t grown as tall as she remembered; his eyes still sparkled with innocence, his features tender and childlike—not like the twelve-year-old whose gaze was cold and whose demeanor bore the air of youth.

She quietly observed him for a while, then suddenly bent down and reached out her hand.

Yet Li Jin’s eyes widened slightly and he staggered back a step, a flicker of fear crossing his face.

Pei Yun’s hand awkwardly hung in midair, a sudden pang of unease stirring within her. So, even now, he already feared his mother.

She forced a bitter smile. No one could blame anyone else—she had sown the seeds herself and must swallow the bitter fruit.

Retracting her hand, she placed it gently near her lips and spoke softly, “Did you eat breakfast too quickly?”

Li Jin blinked in confusion, touching his mouth as if searching for crumbs of pastry. His small face flushed deeply with embarrassment.

He had hurried to eat some almond cakes, fearing that being late would upset his mother, then rushed over.

Still embarrassed, he quickly clasped his hands and asked, “Mother, is there an important matter you wish to tell me?”

Though still a child with a youthful voice, he behaved with such formality and maturity before her. Pei Yun sighed softly, knowing this was but a product of her own strictness as a mother. She motioned for him to sit and said, “It’s nothing much. It’s just been several days since I last saw you, so I thought I’d call you here to take a look.”

Pei Yun recalled that in her previous life, after giving birth to Li Chen, she had lain ill for some time, deeply melancholic. Except for a few gentle and obedient moments when the crown prince came to bid farewell, she had always kept her doors closed to guests and even avoided seeing her two children.

Li Jin was momentarily stunned by her words. Hearing this, it seemed as if his mother missed him. His eyes brightened but soon dimmed again. After a pause, he reported carefully, “Mother, rest assured, I have not fallen behind in my studies these days. I have memorized all the lessons taught by the teacher, fully understanding their meaning and passing every test… and I have not lagged behind my younger brother in the slightest.”

Hearing her son timidly report on his studies, Pei Yun’s heart chilled.

The “younger brother” Li Jin spoke of was the current emperor’s second son, the second imperial grandson of the Duke of Yu, Li Qian.

Li Qian was five months younger than Li Jin, but as they were born in the same year, both had entered the Gengzhuo Pavilion for their early education almost simultaneously at age four.

Though younger, Li Qian had begun walking and speaking earlier than Li Jin.

Seeing Li Jin’s fearful demeanor now, Pei Yun recalled how, before age two, he had clung to her side and refused to leave her.

Back then, she had indeed doted on her first child until one palace feast. A noblewoman suddenly smiled, placing the two similarly aged imperial grandsons side by side, comparing them. She implied Pei Yun spoiled Li Jin too much, which explained why at nearly two years old he still stumbled in his steps and seemed overly dependent, always reaching out to be held, unlike Li Qian, who walked steadily and sought out other children to play with.

That noblewoman, though ostensibly an elder, often spoke brusquely, relying on her seniority. Her family was a prominent clan in the capital and looked down on Pei Yun’s humble origins. She openly and covertly scolded her with words like “excessive maternal love spoils a child.”

Pei Yun was humiliated publicly, already embarrassed. Glancing up briefly, she saw the late Empress Dowager sitting quietly nearby, her brows slightly furrowed but saying nothing.

Feeling increasingly uneasy and fearful, she restrained herself in all things, wary of making mistakes that might invite ridicule or tarnish the Pei family name. After the feast, on the way home, she ignored Li Jin’s crying and insisted he walk alone, forbidding anyone from carrying him, determined to break his habit of clinging to her.

Being a new mother, unsure how to raise her child, she feared that phrase, “too much love harms the child.” She learned to put on a stern face and treated Li Jin strictly in every aspect—from manners to studies—refusing to let him fall behind, especially not behind the second imperial grandson, Li Qian.

She did not want her child to suffer criticism on her account. She hoped he would excel and receive praise, partly from resentment and partly from a desire to prove herself and earn respect, refusing to let anyone look down on her.

But over the years, that mindset grew increasingly distorted, and her strictness toward Li Jin gradually took on a darker tone.

Pei Yun swallowed her bitterness and smiled. “Our Li Jin has always been clever and diligent in his studies, but Mother does not wish to ask about that now. I merely thought that since you are still young and need your sleep, the earlier demand for you to rise at the first incense burn to review your lessons was a bit too much. I wanted to tell you in person that from now on, you may sleep an extra incense burn each day.”

Children cannot hide their feelings. Li Jin’s face immediately brightened, but he quickly composed himself, shaking his head earnestly and swearing, “Mother’s previous decision was excellent. As the saying goes, ‘Black hair knows not the diligence of early study; white head regrets the delay in learning.’ I do not feel tired; I choose to rise early myself.”

Pei Yun looked at his dark circles, clearly fatigued, yet still responding with such words, wishing she could slap herself. She truly was culpable for making Li Jin unable to trust her genuine care, mistaking it for a test.

Knowing it would be hard for him to believe her for now, she added, “The reason I want you to sleep longer is that at your age, insufficient rest may harm your health. I fear you might become ill, which would be counterproductive. Also, a good night’s sleep makes for a more energetic day, allowing you to focus better in class, does it not?”

Li Jin suddenly understood. Indeed, his mother’s change of heart was all for his studies.

“You are right, Mother.” Though he felt a tinge of disappointment, he responded obediently, “I will obey.”

Pei Yun smiled and winked. “It’s getting late; hurry off to Gengzhuo Pavilion.”

Li Jin replied and, before leaving, stole a glance back, feeling that his mother was unusually kind today. As he left Linglang Hall, his steps grew lighter, and he thought to himself how wonderful it would be if she were gentle like this every day.

Seated within the hall, Pei Yun watched her son’s retreating figure, but her smile had faded.

It seemed she had underestimated the situation.

After all, several years had deepened the rift between them, and it was not something that could be repaired overnight.

She sighed softly.

Well, there was still time ahead; at least it was not too late.