Part 3
A smile touched the Second Prince’s eyes. “Of course they are. Thank you for playing with me these past few weeks, Cub. I was very happy.”
The little guy felt a bit shy and pulled his hand back. “I was happy too.”
He then looked expectantly toward his father, asking silently if he could accept such beautiful pearls.
Ning Yunyi walked over, quite surprised. Merman tears turned into pearls, but these were clearly special. They even contained a trace of healing spiritual energy—not much, but it was there.
The Second Prince looked down at the pearls and explained, “They are ordinary pearls when I have no mental power. But once my power recovered, they became like this. Don’t worry; it doesn’t affect me. I remembered you liked those pearls, and these… they possess a bit of natural healing power. They are innate to mermen.”
This was a deep secret, but to the Second Prince, the man before him was his savior—the only one he could share his secrets with. Not even the Crown Prince knew of this; otherwise, the man would have likely gone insane with jealousy.
Ning Yunyi was even more surprised. He hadn’t realized mermen possessed a dual nature of mental and healing power.
Sadly, this was likely the only one left in the entire galaxy.
Ning Yunyi couldn’t imagine the Second Prince, with that cold and aloof face, secretly crying “gold beans” in the middle of the night. It seemed the Prince’s life in the palace over the years hadn’t been nearly as good as the Crown Prince imagined.
Normally, Ning Yunyi would have refused, but knowing these were pearls the Prince had “cried out” in secret, he worried that a rejection would make the Prince overthink and go back to cry more.
Ning Yunyi felt a surge of complex emotions. Looking at the Prince’s face, he found he couldn’t utter a word of refusal. He simply said, “Quickly, thank your Second Cousin-Uncle. Since it’s for you, take it.”
The moment that title left Ning Yunyi’s mouth, not just the Second Prince, but even Zong Hao and Ichi, who had just walked in, were stunned. “…” Well done. Compared to the Marshal, this guy is also a total conversation killer.
Could he not see the young man’s face—a face somewhere between a youth and a man—instantly contort?
Ning Xiaomiao didn’t understand the title “Second Cousin-Uncle.” Wasn’t he “Fishy”? But if Father said so, then he was. He immediately chirped, “Thank you, Second Cousin-Uncle! I love them!”
With that, he hugged the small box to his chest, thinking about how he, his grandmother, and his father would all have new necklaces. He was so happy!
The Second Prince choked, offering a silent nod. “You’re… welcome.”
He then shot a melancholy look at the innocent-looking Ning Yunyi. Could he make him sound any older? And what kind of title was that? He was clearly still very young, yet he’d just been turned into a “Great-Uncle” figure?
Driven by a “if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me” mentality, he turned to Ning Xiaomiao, who was happily admiring the pearls. “Cub, look at that man. He’s the childhood friend of your Second Cousin-Uncle’s brother. He’s the same age as me, so he’s also your… Great-Uncle by marriage. Go say hello.”
Zong Hao: “??” Could you be any more petty?
Ichi stared at the sky. Should he intervene? Or not?
Ning Yunyi’s expression froze. Good grief… the family hierarchy is officially a disaster.
Ning Xiaomiao tilted his head, thinking it over seriously. He actually began to trot toward Zong Hao with his box, looking up with wide, emerald eyes. “You…”
Ning Yunyi lunged forward and scooped up the cub, holding him tight. “It’s almost time for dinner. Let your Second Cousin-Uncle stay for a meal.”
Though he had no intention of admitting it yet, Zong Hao was the boy’s biological father. If the kid actually called him “Great-Uncle,” the whole thing… would just feel too surreal. What the hell would that even be?
He didn’t mind his own status dropping, but the sheer absurdity of the address… it just wouldn’t sound right.
The Second Prince looked at Ning Yunyi with pure melancholy. So only my world has to be ruined, is that it?
Zong Hao hadn’t expected the sudden turn, and his eyes beneath the mask lit up. Did Ning Yunyi not resent him that much? Why else would he keep their hierarchy as peers?
Did he perhaps have a tiny little spot for him in his heart?
This discovery made Zong Hao feel as though he’d been drinking cheap spirits; he felt light-headed and floaty, as if he’d just stumbled upon a miracle.
Even Ning Xiaomiao noticed the change, let alone Ichi, who was standing as far away from his Marshal as possible. I can’t even look. I really can’t.
The Second Prince stayed for a meal but didn’t linger. When he left, he made sure to take Zong Hao and Ichi with him. If he could only stay for one meal, why should Marshal Zong get to stay for two?
Everyone left together; no one was getting an unfair advantage. It was all about fairness.
Zong Hao had intended to explain that night again, but seeing that he’d regained a sliver of standing—even if unacknowledged—he was in an excellent mood and followed the Prince out.
Ichi followed behind his Marshal, his heart pounding. The Second Prince kept staring at the Marshal, and Ichi was terrified the Prince might suddenly say, “As his elder, I don’t approve of this marriage.”
Fortunately, the Prince and the Marshal weren’t close. Once he was certain Zong Hao and Ichi had truly left the Ning residence, the Prince returned to the palace in silence.
As soon as he returned, he was summoned by the Emperor. He frowned, not wanting to go, but knowing that if he refused, his “dear father” would likely come to his chambers personally. He had no desire to have his only sanctuary intruded upon.
When he reached the Emperor, the man was standing before the palace, sighing as he looked at the distant sacrificial altar. Hearing movement, the Emperor waved the others away. “Look,” he said, staring ahead. “During the last sacrifice, I thought everything was moving exactly as I’d envisioned. Our family was so whole then. And yet, in the blink of an eye, everything has changed.”
The Second Prince listened to the end before letting out a laugh of unreadable meaning. “Father, you should save those words for the former Crown Prince in his cell. He’s the one who shattered your vision. If not for him, at least you could have maintained the illusion of family unity.”
The Emperor frowned. “Old Second, when did you become so sharp-tongued?”
Though they hadn’t been close, their relationship had been decent. In his mind, the Second Prince had always been exceptionally obedient. Since his return, the Prince seemed… different.
The Prince was unmoved. “Sharp-tongued? If your own brother treated you that way—wanting you dead and taking action to make it happen—would you feel any different, Father? Oh, wait. You wouldn’t. Because you’re the one who takes action.”
The Emperor’s face shifted as a memory surfaced. “Old Second, you still resent me, don’t you? But I didn’t know you existed then… if I had, I never would have chosen to act out that contract with the Empress to make her my partner. I only wanted to secure the throne as quickly as possible.”
The world believed he and the Empress had overcome countless trials to be together, but it was merely a rebellion against the Late Emperor. His father had tried to force his hand over his love for a shifter, so he chose to protect the Second Prince’s biological mother and his own position by making a choice.
The Late Emperor wanted a political marriage; he refused to comply.
He had encountered the Empress when she was in distress—a commoner’s daughter. Finding her gentle and obedient, he asked if she would play a role—his “true love.” All it cost her was her marriage, and in return, he would lift her out of the mire and give her a life of luxury.
She had agreed. They played the role of lovers who defied the world, and eventually, the Late Emperor believed them and stopped pestering him about his affair with the merman.
Everything worked out as he’d planned. His only mistake was that she had conceived their child… and lost her life because of it.
The Emperor knew she was taking her revenge. She had believed the rumors and chose a tragic end to remain forever in his life.
The Second Prince listened silently as the Emperor reminisced, as if only through memory could he feel young again. When the Emperor spoke of how merciful and magnanimous the Empress had been, the Prince curled his lips into a silent smile.
His “dear father” was truly selfish. To make the Crown Prince feel a sense of crisis, he’d deliberately acted as though he were more guilty and attentive toward the Second Prince so the Crown Prince would target him. Not only did the Crown Prince believe it… so did his “dear Empress.”
How could anyone be magnanimous toward the child of their husband and another woman?
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thank you for the chapter!