"Although my mother left me a long time ago, I know that she loved me very much! Some of the things I use now were sewn by my mother before I was born..." Jingrou still uses some of the things she wears close to her body that her mother made for her. She cherishes them very much, afraid that one day they will wear out and she will no longer be able to use them.
If only she had awakened to her true nature sooner, but now all he has in his mind about his mother is a blurry yet warm image.
Looking at her somewhat sentimental appearance, Yinreng felt a sense of shared sorrow. He also thought of some things in his palace that his mother had personally arranged, some of the decorations that were his mother's favorites, and some of the things his mother had embroidered that she had left for him.
It was precisely because of this that, although his mother passed away early, Yinreng was very close to this mother he had never met.
"And... my master told me that after Mother left, she would turn into a star in the sky and watch over me..." If it weren't for the fact that her mental age was more than three or four years old, she would probably be even more uneasy than Yinreng.
These were the words her grandfather used to comfort her, but now she's using them to comfort someone else...
Yinreng's eyes lit up. When he was two or three years old, he had cried and asked his father why he didn't have a mother.
He was aware of what was being said in the palace, but he never truly understood the meaning of death.
At that time, the Khan remained silent, and dealt with the palace maids or eunuchs who gossiped in front of him, but no one gave him an answer.
He would then be comforted by the people serving him, but those people were strictly controlled by the palace and dared not say anything presumptuous to him.
No one ever gave him an answer.
Even if it's a deceptive story like this, he's seven years old now, not an ignorant child. He already knows why he doesn't have a mother anymore, and he won't ask again.
But the little girl in front of him gave him an answer. An answer he knew wasn't true, but it was still beautiful.
"And you said your brother doesn't like you... but your father likes you, that's enough, isn't it?" Jingrou tilted her head.
It's normal that someone like him isn't liked. He was born into a family of legal wives and didn't have a mother. He received the most favor from his father, which is exactly the factor that makes him the most likely to attract jealousy.
Although she wasn't in that kind of environment, how could she possibly be impartial? Just thinking about it makes it clear.
"But..." But he was also afraid that he wouldn't memorize his lessons well, that his father wouldn't like him, or that his father would find out he wasn't a sensible child and then dislike him...
Adults always prefer intelligent people.
Everyone around him told him that he had to please everyone who liked him, the prince, in order to secure his position, but no one told him how to do it or whether it was the right thing to do.
Since his elder brother returned from outside the palace, he had been much more tolerant of him, avoiding confrontations unless it involved particularly sharp issues. He blinked, somewhat uneasy, his lips tightly pursed, his little hands turning white from fidgeting.
Although he was only seven years old, he was seen by both the court officials and Emperor Kangxi as a well-behaved prince who was determined to study hard.
But he was just a child, and it was only in front of Jingrou that he revealed his vulnerable side.
Jingrou looked at him and talked on and on, clearly these things had been troubling her for a long time.
A nameless fire suddenly rose in Jingrou's heart. She sighed like a little adult, never expecting that she would have to answer questions for someone several years older than her after invading the system.
What kind of environment could make such a young child so anxious and insecure?
“But we children don’t have to be the best.” Jingrou patted Yinreng’s hand, just like her brothers used to comfort her. A protective instinct arose in Jingrou’s heart.
Yinreng felt that the soft sensation was fleeting, leaving only a warm feeling on the back of his hand.
“My maternal grandmother taught me to sew, but I’m terrible at it… My aunt has been planting flowers lately, and I always end up making things worse… My cousins are practicing martial arts, and I might even cause trouble…” She had originally intended to comfort Yinreng, but her voice grew softer and softer as she spoke. Why was she so guilty?
She realized she had done so many things that only made things worse. But the adults had never complained about her.
She felt a little embarrassed. She puffed out her cheeks and glanced at Yinreng with a somewhat dejected look. Wouldn't saying that only make things worse for the person in front of her?
Yinreng smiled gently.
I was feeling a bit down, but hearing her say that made me feel instantly lighter.
He could almost picture how Jingrou used to cause trouble for those close to him; she must have been incredibly cute, making it impossible to scold her.
Even if it doesn't help, it still makes people feel happy.
If she acts like that in front of me, I'd be happy just to stay in front of her... whether she's a hindrance or something else, I'd be willing to do it.
Jingrou was captivated by his handsome smile for a moment, then deliberately changed the subject. "And you need to learn to show weakness. Since your father dotes on you so much, what's wrong with a seven-year-old showing weakness to his father? And if your brothers are sensible, you should be closer to your father and act a little more affectionate! But if you're competing with your brothers in being sensible and studious... if he gets up to study at Chenshi (7-9 AM), how early will you get up? Wouldn't you have to stay up all night studying? We're still so young, do we really need to study every single moment?"
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