Carrying a bellyful of thoughts, Mo Bei slipped into Zhinuan Palace in a few quick turns, a crystal bun clenched between her teeth, wine in one hand and food in the other. She bumped the wooden door with her slender waist.
Creak...
“Your Highness, I borrowed lots of xiaolongbao you like.” Before she could swallow the fragrant mouthful in her throat, Mo Bei mumbled indistinctly, “There are pork ones and chive ones. Which do you want?”
After waiting a while and hearing no reply, she furrowed her willow brows and walked toward the straw bed in puzzlement.
“Your Highness, why aren’t you answering me? Don’t tell me...”
Before she could finish, Mo Bei froze where she stood, staring wordlessly at the man before her. He was leaning there at an angle, pearly teeth biting hard into his thin lips, enduring with all his might. Patches of moonlight fell across his handsome face, refracting a faint, brittle sheen of vulnerability. His arm was stretched out very straight, as if he wanted to grab hold of something, yet only an empty palm remained.
“Imperial Father, don’t leave Xiao’er behind, Imperial Father...”
That low, murmuring dream-talk carried a stubborn, childish temper, each word slicing through the night.
For one instant, she saw her own shadow in this foolish prince.
On the day her elder brother died, tiny as she was, she held that ice-cold corpse and refused to let go.
She did not cry. Truly, she did not cry.
Because at that time, she had been so afraid that she had even forgotten to cry.
That fear, so profound, burrowed into her palms, her arms, her chest, the very tip of her heart, flowing with her blood to every part of her body—neither living nor dead, neither destroyed nor extinguished.
After that, she learned to smile, learned to be strong, learned a peerless art of theft.
Every night, she desperately told herself not to be afraid, not to be afraid.
Xiaoxiao was afraid too, wasn’t he?
Although his intelligence was only that of an eight-year-old child.
But he still had his own honor and shame. He was a person of flesh and blood.
Otherwise, he would not be thinking of his imperial father so deeply even in his dreams.
It was truly hard to imagine what it felt like for him to go from a crown prince watched by tens of thousands to a simpleton who suffered every humiliation.
What chilled the heart even more was that his own blood brother actually toyed with him like a dog, while in Emperor Dunhuang’s eyes, this son of his did not exist at all.
Perhaps it was better that he was foolish. If he were not, the pain would be a thousand, ten thousand times worse than it was now.
Moving her ten fingers, Mo Bei wanted to grasp his hand. Almost the instant she touched his palm, Yelü Qianxiao suddenly opened his blue eyes.
Bewilderment, sharpness, coldness—all melted inch by inch into a lingering foolish smile.
Before Mo Bei could see clearly, he was already pointing randomly at his back, pouting as he acted spoiled. “Momo, Xiaoxiao hurts!”
“Here, here, it all hurts so much!” Afraid she would not see, his large hand deliberately tugged at his clothes, revealing bronze skin and bloodstained white bandages.
Seeing this, guilt naturally rose in Mo Bei’s heart. She hurriedly patted his head. “It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt. I got lots of food for Your Highness, and wine too!” After drinking some wine, the pain should lessen a little.
“What is wine? Can it be eaten? Is it as tasty as buns?” Yelü Qianxiao lowered his head, the fingertips of both hands touching, lying there like a curious baby as he pondered it. Yet beneath his long hair, his blue eyes shone with wicked charm and amusement.
Mo Bei’s pupils shifted. She brought over the crystal buns together with the Huadiao wine, the corners of her mouth curving into a wicked smile. “Your Highness, you have to drink one mouthful of wine before you can eat one xiaolongbao. Otherwise, you don’t get any!” There was no helping it. The moment she saw his adorable appearance, she wanted to bully him a little.
“Momo, can Xiaoxiao just eat the buns?” Yelü Qianxiao widened his blue eyes pitifully, while the desire to strangle someone flared up once again in his heart.
Mo Bei very generously replied, “No,” then happily filled a cup with clear wine for him and said with a beaming smile, “Hurry and try it!”