Chapter 44: Wrapped into a Ball

Qin Bi could see it clearly now: personality is something one is born with.

Rong Jun and Rong Yang were not the types to let themselves be wronged. They were domineering, flamboyant, and possessed an imposing aura. If He Yan showed even a little extra care toward Qin He's child, Rong Jun simply could not stand it.

Rong Yang was just as formidable; raised by Rong Jun, he was exactly like his father.

The child had already been born, and Qin Bi had no intention of preventing Rong Yang from recognizing He Yan. There was no need for the drama of running away while pregnant or keeping secrets; if Rong Jun hadn't insisted the child was hers, Qin Bi wouldn't have accepted him at all.

But what was the meaning of Rong Jun and Rong Yang's behavior right now?

Rong Yang was using himself as a control group. The logic was: the more He Yan doted on and pampered Qin He's child, the more Rong Yang would run to the "poor little thing" side, making He Yan regret it in the future.

This truly hit a raw nerve.

"Are you full?" Qin Bi asked, watching one feed with infinite patience while the other ate with great enthusiasm, worrying the child might overeat.

Rong Yang said, "Full."

Rong Jun ate a few bites simply, while Qin Bi wiped the child's mouth.

"I can do it myself," Rong Yang said. "I'm grown up."

Qin Bi said crossly, "You aren't even six months old."

Rong Yang turned to Rong Jun. "Father."

Rong Jun said to Qin Bi, "He is grown up. He is our noble little Prince of the Rong Mansion."

Qin Bi: "..."

Qin Bi watched the tiny little person climb down from the stool to wash his hands. The maids in this courtyard were practically ornaments; even fetching water was a task the maids had to scramble for. As the child washed his hands himself, Qin Bi took a towel to dry them.

Once they finished, Rong Jun had finished his meal, and the maids cleared the table.

A young eunuch from the palace came to deliver a message: "Your Highness, it is time for court."

Rong Jun's expression didn't budge. "I have requested leave."

The eunuch bowed his head low. "The Emperor requests Your Highness to attend court to discuss matters."

Rong Jun hesitated for a moment. "I will enter the palace this afternoon."

After the eunuch left, Rong Jun and Rong Yang became busy, fussing over how to dress to look like a "poor little thing." Guard Yan and the mansion's strategist, Lin Yao, were both summoned to offer advice and give their opinions.

Several of the child's small robes were tossed onto the small precious couch. Rong Jun picked up a noble purple robe and held it against the little fellow. "What do you think of this one? Does it look like a poor little thing?"

Lin Yao's mouth twitched. "It looks extremely noble."

Guard Yan remained silent. Qin Bi looked at it and thought none of them were suitable. The clothes Rong Yang wore as a baby were all made by the Prince's own workshop—every single one was a masterpiece. Who could be blind enough to mistake him for a poor little thing?

Rong Yang was very observant. He toddled over and picked up a goose-yellow robe adorned with clusters of flowers. "How about this one? Does it look like a poor little thing?"

Qin Bi pursed her lips. In ancient times, commoners wore fabrics in single, plain colors; they could never afford such vibrant hues. An eye-catching goose-yellow robe like this was a joke.

Lin Yao didn't even bother to speak, sharing the same view as Luo Bi.

Guard Yan thought to himself that the Prince and the little Prince had no idea what a "poor little thing" actually was. Every single one of these small clothes was worth a fortune; wearing them out would be the exact opposite of looking pitiful.

"Your Highness," Guard Yan ventured, "these robes are all made of premium fabrics. None of them are suitable."

Rong Jun seemed to realize the problem as well. He lifted his chin. "Go get some children's clothes."

Guard Yan withdrew, and not long after, he brought back a piece of old children's clothing. Wearing this would definitely make him look like a poor little thing, but Rong Jun frowned upon seeing it and waved his hand. Guard Yan tactfully took it away.

Fine. Qin Bi was not close with Guard Yan or the strategist Lin Yao, so she joined them in a tacit, silent agreement.

Let them fuss. They could decide whatever they wanted as long as they thought it was good. They clearly wanted to dress him as a poor little thing, yet they complained the clothes weren't right. It was a dead end.

In the end, Rong Jun chose a black robe with cloud-patterned belts, a small animal-skin cape, and a pair of white fox fur boots. As Rong Jun dressed the child, Qin Bi stepped in to help.

Once he was dressed, Rong Jun was dissatisfied. "The temperature is dropping today. This is too thin."

Qin Bi really wanted to say, *Your Highness, you decide,* but she kept her thoughts to herself.

Rong Yang even tried to mimic speech, pinching the robe. "Not thick."

Rong Jun then put a small animal-skin vest on the child, layered the robe over it, and added the small cape. Outside, there were snowflakes and light rain; Rong Jun wrapped the little fellow up until he looked like a ball.

Guard Yan glanced at Lin Yao. *Still trying to look like a poor little thing,* he thought. In his eyes, the little Prince's fortune was overflowing.

There were some matters the guard captain and the strategist did not dare to question deeply; they could only follow orders.

Qin Bi simply gave up. Whatever. If she were He Yan, looking at Rong Yang in all this fluff, there was no way she would think he looked pitiful. Even as his mother, she couldn't bring herself to lie.

Rong Yang was well-behaved. Once Rong Jun had finished tidying the child, he took him by the hand to head out.

"You come along too," Rong Jun said to Qin Bi.

Qin Bi hesitated, then followed.

The ground was covered in ice pellets and rainwater. Rong Jun picked up the child and adjusted Qin Bi's cloak, helping her into the carriage first before finally climbing in himself while holding the little one.

Guard Yan drove the carriage, followed by guards, while the strategist stayed behind.

Inside the carriage, there was a small table set with fruit and tea.

Along the way, Rong Jun and Rong Yang continued to discuss how to play the part of a poor little thing. When they reached a spot not far from the Duke of Yan's mansion, the carriage stopped. Rong Jun tucked a small hand warmer into the little fellow's hands.

"Come back if you get cold," Rong Jun instructed his son.

Rong Yang nodded. "I know!"

The child had just learned to walk. He stuffed the hand warmer into his robe, and Qin Bi helped him tidy it up. Regardless, if they wanted He Yan to feel heartache in the future for having a child with no one to care for him, the child had to look the part.

Even though Qin Bi found it hard to look at, she was a thorough person.

Once the hand warmer was secure, Qin Bi asked, "Are you really going?"

"Going!" The child climbed down from the carriage.

The ground was wet with rain, and the cold wind made passersby huddle into themselves. Rong Yang thought about it for a moment and also hunched his shoulders.

Startled, Rong Jun leaned out of the carriage. "Rong Yang, are you cold?"

The child waved his tiny hands and giggled. "Not cold, not cold. Father doesn't need to worry."

Rong Jun watched as the child wobbled toward the entrance of the Duke of Yan's mansion. *Hmph. He Yan is no gentleman; if he doesn't save the wealth he has built for his own child and instead hands it over to outsiders...*

He wanted to see if He Yan would feel heartache when he finally realized Rong Yang was his son and remembered this day.

Watching his tiny son wobbling through the rain, Rong Jun's expression changed before He Yan even had a chance to feel pity. His cold, sharp eyes remained fixed on the child.

Qin Bi could bet that if the boy tripped once, Rong Jun would immediately scoop him up and bring him back.

The Duke of Yan's mansion was a hereditary first-class dukedom that did not lose its rank—a family of great merit. On a rainy day like this, the gatekeepers outside the mansion were stationed there, occasionally glancing at the weather.

They saw a tiny, exquisitely carved child wobbling toward them, wrapped up like a ball.

The guard asked in surprise, "Kid, whose child are you? Why are you running around here?"