He must have cried when Hongxiu brought him in; his eyes were a little red. But fearing that his mother would worry, he forced a smile and suppressed his emotions.
Seeing her son pretending to be strong, Lady Fucha couldn't help but cry. Her crying also made Yonghuang unable to hold back his tears.
The mother and son embraced and wept bitterly, which deeply moved Hongli. Even he, who always considered himself a prince, couldn't help but have his eyes redden.
Perhaps due to exhaustion or her body reaching its limit, Empress Fucha grew increasingly weak, and her once clear eyes gradually became blurry.
In the very end, Lady Fucha was still instructing her son to be filial to his father and to treat his adoptive mother who would raise him well.
Every word she spoke contained a mother's deep concern and worry for her son.
The sounds around her grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared completely. Her hand, raised in mid-air, fell limply before it could touch her son's small, tender face one last time.
At this moment, Yonghuang's suppressed emotions finally burst forth. At such a young age, he already knew that his mother had left, that she had left forever, and that he would no longer be a child without his mother.
Yonghuang knelt by Fucha's bedside, sobbing uncontrollably. There is no greater sorrow in the world than this; losing his mother caused this child immense grief.
Hongli could only put his arm around his son's tender shoulders, giving him strength, but he couldn't say any words of comfort.
At this moment, any words of comfort seem pale and cannot help Yonghuang escape his grief.
The funeral of Lady Fucha was not held in a grand manner. Emperor Yongzheng in the palace was getting worse and worse, and fearing that it would cause unnecessary trouble, Hongli ordered that the funeral of Lady Fucha be kept simple.
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