It was late at night, and although Yinzhen had his eyes closed, he was still very awake because the person next to him would turn over every few breaths, and the frequency was getting faster and faster.

Yi Hua lay in bed unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, the image of Hong Hui silently taking a beating with his head down would flash through her mind.

Did you hit this child too hard? He doesn't even cry out in pain anymore.

Did the physician administer the medicine properly? Did he drink the tonic soup that Granny Chen brought him properly?

The more Yihua thought about it, the more worried she became. What if Honghui caught a fever that night? After all, he had died from a persistent high fever in history.

Yi Hua sat up abruptly, intending to get out of bed, get dressed, and go to the front yard to take a look, just a quick glance would suffice.

Yinzhen pressed her shoulder from behind: "It's getting late and the dew is heavy. Don't let yourself fall down while the child is alright. I'll go check on him and come back in a bit."

Seeing that Yinzhen insisted, Yihua didn't say anything, but had Yuxue hand Yinzhen the ginseng soup that had been prepared: "Your Highness, watch him drink it before you go back."

Yinzhen found it amusing that this soupy dish had resurfaced.

Su Peisheng was dozing off. When he was woken up, he was still half asleep. He took the food box from his master, picked up the lantern, and hurried toward the residence of the eldest prince.

Honghui lay on the bed, the candlelight on the bedside table dim, holding a book in his hand, upside down but not putting it down, lost in thought.

The eunuchs and maids serving him all advised him to go to bed early, but Honghui impatiently dismissed them, leaving him alone to ponder quietly.

He truly hadn't expected his mother to get so angry.

Why didn't Mother feel relieved? She was calm when talking about Eighth Aunt, but became so agitated when talking about what she had done.

Just as he was racking his brains trying to figure it out, Yinzhen lifted the curtain and came in. He brought out the ginseng soup and gestured for Su Peisheng to leave.

"Drink it, and your mother will be at ease." Yinzhen lifted his robe and sat down by Honghui's bedside. From Honghui's angle, he could see his inner garment.

The familiar aroma filled his nose, and Honghui subconsciously curled the corners of his mouth into a smile before looking away, but still obediently finished drinking it.

Yinzhen rummaged through the bedside table, found some dried plums, and popped two into Honghui's mouth.

"Your mother hit you today, do you feel wronged?" Yinzhen covered Honghui with a quilt. The physician had treated the wound very well, and the swelling would go down in a few hours.

Honghui first shook his head, then nodded.

"How did you come up with the idea of ​​using such methods to deal with the Eighth Prince's wife?"

“Strike the snake at its vital spot. What Aunt Ba cares about most is Uncle Ba’s feelings. I heard Uncle Jiu mention it once. Uncle Ba listens to Aunt Ba in matters concerning the inner quarters. For so many years, no child has been born in Uncle Ba’s household, and Aunt Ba has insisted on not letting Uncle Ba take a concubine.” Honghui frankly expressed his thoughts. “Since that’s the case, I’ll find a way to make Aunt Ba suffer.”

Upon hearing this, Yinzhen nodded. At Honghui's age, he knew how to use others' strength against them. With just a few words, he had his father reprimand the Eighth Prince's wife. Such shrewdness was truly remarkable.

"Then why didn't you tell your mother or father beforehand?" Yinzhen continued to ask. "Did you think we wouldn't support you?"

Honghui's eyes darted around, and his voice lowered: "I'm not sure if it will work out either. It all depends on Grandfather's decision. If it doesn't work out, there's no need to let Mother know, or it will be all for nothing."

“You’re too hasty,” Yinzhen commented. “Judging from the number of times the Emperor has summoned you to serve him, you should have had the opportunity to meet him within a few days if you had just waited. But you’ve personally requested an audience. Don’t you think the Emperor will suspect you’re plotting something?”

“My son couldn’t help but feel angry when he saw his older sister’s face. If it were his mother who was hurt, I don’t know what he would do.” Honghui analyzed his mental process. “My son wants the bad guys to be punished as soon as possible.”

"A gentleman takes revenge even after ten years. You should break down what you did this time into several parts and tell the Emperor about it step by step. With this groundwork laid, the Emperor won't think you have ulterior motives. At the same time, your virtue of loving your brothers will be more deeply rooted in the Emperor's mind, and he will also subtly highlight the Eighth Prince's wife," Yinzhen advised him.

“Honghui, you must understand that you are Father’s eldest son. Your words and actions, especially in the palace, represent the Prince’s Mansion and ultimately Father’s will. Therefore, you must think twice before you act.” Yinzhen’s mouth was dry after saying so much, so he poured himself a glass of water.

"Is Mother angry because of this child?" Honghui listened and belatedly realized that he had acted rashly.

"No, that's not it." Yinzhen found it amusing. He had just said so much, but Honghui hadn't listened to a single word; he was only thinking about his mother.

“She doesn’t like that you, at such a young age, are wasting your time on such petty schemes. She hopes you can use open strategies to overcome intrigues and always walk in the sunlight, instead of actively walking into the shadows.” Yinzhen explained Yihua’s intentions to Honghui.

Honghui's eyes first welled up with tears of emotion, then he became puzzled: "But Father, there are countless unspeakable things in the palace, I think..."

“Father knows what you’re going to say.” Yinzhen interrupted him. “If there’s a next time, remember to talk to Father first. Remember, Father has also lived in the palace for more than ten years, no less than you.”

Yinzhen did not deny that Yihua's expectations for Honghui were very appealing.

However, his personal experience in the palace made Yinzhen very clear that Honghui had long been operating in both the light and the shadows. The fact that he was so adept at this was not the first time he had done it. Perhaps in the past he had focused his attention on Consort De, his classmates, or the intricate network of palace eunuchs, and they, as his parents, had not noticed.

Therefore, when Yi Hua realized what was happening, she angrily hit Hong Hui with a board.

Honghui thought Yinzhen had come to reprimand him, but he hadn't expected him to come to protect him: "You mean..."

Yinzhen placed the teacup on the table, making a crisp sound: "Don't let your mother worry."

In other words, if you're going to do something "bad" next time, talk to your father beforehand and don't let your mother know, right?

Honghui's eyes suddenly lit up. Ignoring the pain in his back and buttocks, he straightened up and said, "Son knows he was wrong."

"Alright, take good care of your injuries these next few days. Your father will ask for leave for you in the palace." Seeing that Honghui was no longer depressed, Yinzhen covered him with the blanket again, blew out the oil lamp, and slowly walked towards the main courtyard.

The moonlight is beautiful tonight. Yinzhen looked up at the moon and thought to himself.

Yi Hua's stubborn innocence is both pitiful and endearing. However, Hong Hui's identity prevents him from remaining untouched by worldly affairs. It's good that his mother sets a standard for him, so that he won't be caught off guard when he suddenly has a wild idea that turns the world upside down.

With Yi Hua constantly reminding them, both Hong Hui and themselves would be more cautious in their actions, which was good enough.

Su Peisheng followed Yinzhen back to the main courtyard and found his wife leaning against the door, gazing at the moon, just like her master had done.

What's so great about this lousy moon? Su Peisheng shrank his hands; it was really cold in the latter half of the night.