Chapter Nineteen: Filial Piety Strikes Like Thunder

Was the majestic aura that this woman displayed just now real, or was it all an illusion? Xiao Jingxuan felt his anger rising again. He glanced at the hand that had only moments ago been tightly clasped with Yun Bai’s, now left empty and cold, and found himself surprisingly unsettled, a sense of loss gnawing at him. He dashed toward the mother and child.

The wagon was not filled with gold. In the dramas he’d seen before, gold was always stored in boxes, but in reality, a hundred taels of gold weighed no more than five or six pounds—light enough to carry in one hand. There were, however, quite a lot of pearls: ten bushels, weighing thirty or forty pounds. The rest of the wagon was piled high with fruit.

Yun Bai nestled in Su Jingluo’s lap, while Su Jingluo squeezed into Xiao Jingxuan’s arms—otherwise, there simply wouldn’t be room to sit. Su Jingluo couldn’t help but wish, if only she’d brought a few more wagons.

“So much fruit—if you let it rot, you won’t even be able to eat it. Why not ask for something more useful?” Xiao Jingxuan complained, his words full of disdain. Yet the warmth of Su Jingluo’s body in his arms, the faint scent of jasmine in her hair, made him feel inexplicably comfortable. He lowered his gaze and saw Su Jingluo laughing, her eyes lit up as she gazed at the glittering gold and pearls, Yun Bai struggling to resist the urge to drool over the fruit. The scene was so vulgar, yet oddly delightful. Xiao Jingxuan himself failed to notice that the corners of his mouth were curling upward.

Su Jingluo was in high spirits now, and couldn’t resist teasing Xiao Jingxuan as she fondly stroked Yun Bai’s little head.

“Not even a thousand gold pieces could buy Yun Bai’s joy.”

It was a casual remark, but it startled Xiao Jingxuan. This was a mother’s love for her child. He didn’t know why, but at that moment, a surge of heroism welled up in him—the urge to protect this mother and son for a lifetime, stronger even than his desire to overthrow the emperor.

“Mother!” Yun Bai suddenly called out to Su Jingluo and turned to wrap his arms around her neck. Xiao Jingxuan saw Yun Bai’s long lashes trembling, glistening with moisture. His heart grew heavier with guilt.

Yun Bai had no time to care about his father’s ever-changing expressions or turbulent inner world. Su Jingluo’s words had ignited an explosive wave of filial devotion. One banana after another, oranges, grapes—all were shoved into Su Jingluo’s mouth, as if she had no choice but to eat them.

Having achieved fruit freedom, Su Jingluo felt utterly defeated.

The carriage stopped at the gate of the Prince Jing Mansion. Snow began to fall from the sky. Having eaten all the way, Su Jingluo clutched her stomach as she climbed out, nearly stumbling, only to be caught by Xiao Jingxuan.

“Thank you! I’m stuffed. What’s gotten into this child?” Su Jingluo hurriedly expressed her gratitude.

Yun Bai hopped down, discreetly pushing away Xiao Jingxuan’s hand and holding onto Su Jingluo instead. The little rascal kicked at the snow ahead with his tiny feet.

“Mother, be careful—the snow makes the road slippery.”

Su Jingluo was on the verge of tears. What had happened to her mischievous son? She wanted her playful boy back; his gentle and courteous demeanor now left her feeling anxious.

“Why is there no one clearing the snow, knowing that the Princess Consort and the Young Master would be returning?” Xiao Jingxuan shouted at the servants rushing to open the door.

The servants were aggrieved. How were they supposed to know when they’d be back? Besides, there’d never been a precedent for sweeping the entrance when the Princess Consort and Young Master returned home. How come a trip to the palace has suddenly brought new rules?

But they dared not argue. Heads hung low, they apologized profusely, promising never to repeat the mistake, and hurriedly swept the snow in front of Su Jingluo and Yun Bai.

Su Jingluo noticed not only Yun Bai acting strangely, but Xiao Jingxuan seemed a little off as well.

“Shen Zhong?” Xiao Jingxuan had barely sat down when he summoned the mansion’s chief steward.

“Your Highness, I am here.” Shen Zhong felt that the prince was in unusually good spirits today—so good, in fact, it was unsettling, as if he was itching to find someone to take his anger out on. So he bent low, cautious and attentive.

“Where does the Princess Consort live?”

What? Shen Zhong was baffled. Where does she live? Wasn’t she always in that small courtyard at the edge of the mansion, the one used for storing firewood and sundries?