Yinreng was truly intelligent. Others might not be able to master the skills even after studying for several years, but he easily reached the threshold of mastery.

Western oil painting differs from ink painting, which emphasizes freehand brushwork; it is more vivid and realistic.

Tong Wanyan's appearance was already flawless, and her eyes and brows were full of spirit.

A person like this will always look good no matter how you draw them.

Originally done on a whim, Yinreng finished the painting in no time.

He proudly presented the drawing board to Tong Wanyan, and grinned from ear to ear at her astonished reaction.

"Isn't Your Highness incredibly talented? When Johann Adam Schall von Bell saw him, his eyes nearly popped out of his head." Yinreng, like a peacock spreading its tail feathers, flaunted his excellence.

However, he quickly became somewhat dejected: "It's a pity that you didn't learn as well as Xiao Yan. I heard from Lord Tong that you've only been learning for about half a year."

Tong Wanyan wisely kept quiet. She had been painting for over ten years in her previous life, sketching and drawing since she could hold a pen, so she couldn't compare.

Yinreng was in a state of excitement because he had just finished painting a masterpiece. He kept talking happily: "Xiao Yan, last time I wrote the inscription for your painting. This time it's your turn."

Tong Wanyan took the pen and handed Tana to Yinreng.

She thought for a moment, then wrote a line of small characters in the blank space at the bottom right of the painting.

Yinreng stared blankly at the beautiful, fancy English font: "Xiao Yan knows foreign languages?"

It's not about awkwardly reciting a few similar syllables, but about beautiful calligraphy.

Don't think that only Chinese characters have calligraphy; foreign languages ​​do too.

Tong Wanyan smiled shyly: "It's just some casual practice, nothing special."

"I feel like I'm showing off my skills in front of Guan Yu," Yinreng said helplessly.

Tana, not wanting to be left out, reached down with her little hand, and Yinreng bent over following her lead, then watched as her little hand slapped into the prepared paint palette.

With a snap, her palm print landed precisely on the words Tong Wanyan had written, right on the spot.

Tong Wanyan wrote, "I love you, forever."

A painting is a collaborative work by a family, symbolizing a perfect family.

Yinreng stared at the painting that had been placed aside to dry, feeling that something was amiss.

After patting the painting, Tana turned and patted Yinreng's face.

Yinreng's cheeks ached as he looked at Tana's chubby hands and innocent, bewildered eyes.

"Will Hongzhao make a fuss when he grows up and sees this painting?" Yinreng was slapped and immediately remembered that the other twin was missing.

Tong Wanyan laughed out loud. She picked a soft, thornless flower and tucked it behind Tana's ear.

"No, Hongzhao loves Tana very much. I'll paint a picture of him and Tana tomorrow; that would make him happier than painting our whole family," Tong Wanyan said confidently.

Hongzhao is a complete sister-obsessed person. Even if Tana takes his things for no reason, he will happily give them to her.

How could Yinreng not know what kind of temperament his own son had?

But he was still troubled: "It is like this now, but it may not be in the future. Royal feelings are always thin. My elder brother and I were very close when we were young."

His handsome face revealed undisguised sadness.

Nobody wants to turn a once close brother into a bitter enemy.

He was the crown prince, wielding power that commanded the obeisance of all subjects, and was destined to face challenges from his brothers. In the Qing Dynasty, there was no precedent for a legitimate son succeeding to the throne. In previous dynasties, the number of crown princes who successfully ascended the throne was equally pitiful.

His position is one of loneliness at the top, like a seemingly stable cliff face that is actually precarious.

The prince still has a way out; his way out is either death or confinement.

Therefore, he must keep moving forward resolutely, and those who stand in his way to the throne must die.

Tong Wanyan quietly stayed by Yinreng's side as he was lost in grief and pain. She felt sorry for him and said, "Your Majesty, our family will always be alright."

The gentle voice pulled Yinreng out of his nervousness.

He leaned his head on Tong Wanyan's shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of osmanthus from her hair.

The light fragrance soothed his emotions.

"I will always protect you," Yinreng said.