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Chapter Fifteen

Meng Yuning bit down on the handkerchief covering her mouth. Though her words were somewhat muffled and unclear, Qi Jingyan understood her nonetheless. After quietly watching her for a moment, he finally released his grip.

Meng Yuning quickly withdrew her hand.

Qi Jingyan glanced at the handkerchief still covering her mouth. “Why are you doing that again?”

Hurriedly, Meng Yuning pulled the cloth away from her lips. “Ah, well, I… um…”

She had originally planned to wait until he fell asleep before removing the handkerchief herself early the next morning, so he wouldn’t notice. But unexpectedly, he had caught her in the middle of the night, and she was at a loss for how to explain it.

Seeing her hesitate, Qi Jingyan turned his head away, no longer looking at her.

Meng Yuning pulled her cloak tighter around her and glanced at Qi Jingyan. He was staring up at the ceiling, clearly not intending to sleep. She softly called out, “Your Highness?”

Qi Jingyan turned his head slightly but said nothing.

She sat up a little, testing the waters, “Your Highness, I’m not a good sleeper. Earlier, while I was asleep, did I make any noise?”

Without waiting for a question, he replied, “What kind of noise?”

“I don’t know. I just wondered if I disturbed your rest.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Relieved by his firm answer, Meng Yuning settled back down, closed her eyes, and tried to return to sleep. Yet, having slept so deeply before, she now felt wide awake.

She pulled her hood over her head, leaving only a small slit through which she secretly observed Qi Jingyan.

The room was dim, with no candles lit, but the window had no paper covering. Moonlight streamed in through the bare panes, casting a gentle glow over Qi Jingyan’s sharply defined, sculpted face.

His expression was calm, or perhaps vacant. Though his eyes were open, he radiated a faint aura of lifelessness.

Thinking of all the upheavals he had recently endured, Meng Yuning sighed inwardly, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.

But then she reminded herself: her own future was uncertain and fraught with peril. How could she spare the heart to pity a man destined for immense power? She tugged her hood lower, covering her face tightly, slowed her breathing, and tried to summon sleep once more.

She drifted off in a haze, but at some unknown moment, a sharp, piercing cry jolted her awake. She sat up abruptly.

On the bed beside her, the little Seventeenth Prince had sat upright, wailing heartbreakingly, “Mother, please don’t leave me, I’m scared.”

Qi Jingyan raised his head, propped himself up on one arm, seemingly trying to sit up, but failed and lay back down. He pulled the boy close, stroking his head with one hand and gently patting his blanket with the other. Softly, he soothed, “It’s alright, Yi’er. Brother is here, brother is here.”

But the boy seemed trapped in a nightmare, crying uncontrollably.

Listening to the child’s fearful sobs, Meng Yuning recalled the scene after the Empress’s death when the boy had clung to her, weeping bitterly. She sighed softly, feeling a tender sympathy.

Unable to sit still, she rose, put on her shoes, and crossed to the opposite bed. Softly, she asked, “Your Highness, shall I light a fire? A brighter room might help the little prince feel better.”

Qi Jingyan, already overwhelmed trying to soothe the boy, nodded at her suggestion. “Thank you.”

Meng Yuning headed to the door to fetch a torch from Mu Yun and the others. Unexpectedly, as she opened the door, Mu Yun was standing in the kitchen holding a torch, a look of concern etched on his face. Mu Feng, Mu Shan, and two guards stood anxiously by the outer room’s doorway.

Seeing her come out, Mu Yun quietly asked, “Has the little prince had another nightmare?”

Meng Yuning nodded and moved aside to let Mu Yun enter.

Mu Yun placed the torch on a rack by the wall and helped Qi Jingyan sit up.

Qi Jingyan held Yi’er horizontally in his arms, wrapping him snugly in a tiger-patterned blanket, gently rocking him. “Yi’er, don’t be afraid. Brother is here.”

The boy seemed still caught in some terrifying dream, eyes shut tightly as he sobbed uncontrollably. But no matter how much Qi Jingyan repeated the phrase, the crying persisted.

Meng Yuning grew anxious watching but knew that since the Empress Dowager had placed the boy in a basket by Qi Jingyan’s side, no one except Qi Jingyan could comfort him; anyone else only made him cry harder. So she abandoned the thought of helping soothe him directly.

She thought for a moment and then turned to leave.

Mu Feng and the others were anxiously waiting at the door, peeking in. When they saw Meng Yuning come out, they hurried to ask, “Miss Meng, is the little prince still crying?”

“He’s not calmed down yet,” Meng Yuning replied, then added, “Give me a torch. I want to find something.”

Mu Feng glanced around the pitch-black surroundings, unwilling to let her wander alone, and raised a torch, following her. “What are you looking for, Miss Meng? We’ll help.”

“Foxtail grass,” Meng Yuning said. “I want to weave some little toys for the little prince.”

Hearing that she intended to soothe the child, Mu Feng and the others didn’t insist she do it herself. They let her wait at the doorway while they went to the edge of the platform.

Soon, one of them returned with a large handful of foxtail grass and offered it to Meng Yuning. “Is this enough?”

She took it with a smile. “More than enough.”

Turning back inside, she sat by her bed and picked up a few strands of grass. Bending and twisting them skillfully, she soon fashioned a small, fuzzy rabbit.

Holding it in her hand, she crossed to the opposite bed and called in a sweet, coaxing voice, “Little prince, here’s a fluffy little rabbit. Would you like to see it?”

Then she began to sing:

“Little green rabbit, white as snow,
Two ears standing up, ready to go…”

Her deliberately sweet, clear voice wove the words melodiously, bringing an inexplicable calm to the room.

Qi Jingyan glanced at her, then at the green rabbit in her hand, before looking down at Yi’er, who was clutching his robe tightly, burying his face as he cried.

Sure enough, as she sang in that strange, half-song, half-rhyme tone, Yi’er’s crying slowly subsided. He sniffled and lifted his head, looking toward her.

Seeing the effect, Meng Yuning couldn’t help but smile. She gently shook the foxtail rabbit before him. “Here’s a little green rabbit, so much fun! Little prince, do you want it?”

The boy said nothing but turned his face back into Qi Jingyan’s embrace.

Meng Yuning didn’t press him. She stuck the rabbit into her hair and took a few more strands of foxtail grass to continue weaving, her voice playful and exaggerated. “Wow, come see! There’s a little fox too.”

Then in a rough, hoarse voice, she added, “How many tails does a little fox have? If it has too few, I don’t want it.”

Returning to her sweet voice, she reassured, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, it has nine tails.”

As she finished speaking, she completed the toy and held up the fluffy nine-tailed fox. The little prince, who had been watching her silently, finally reached out a small hand, unable to resist the lure.

Meng Yuning quickly placed the nine-tailed fox in his hand, then took the rabbit from her hair and gave it to him as well. “Here you go, little prince. They’re all for you.”

The boy, captivated by the new toys, momentarily forgot to cry and quietly waved his little hand.

Qi Jingyan and Mu Yun let out a collective sigh of relief. Mu Yun bowed silently and stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

Outside, Mu Feng and the others approached, asking for details. Mu Yun told them everything honestly, and they were all amazed. “Miss Meng truly hides her talents well. She really can do everything.”

Inside, Qi Jingyan looked at Meng Yuning with gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you.”

Meng Yuning waved her hand modestly. “It was nothing, Your Highness. No need for thanks.”

Qi Jingyan said, “Yi’er will want to play for a while longer. Miss Meng, you should rest.”

Having been roused several times that night, Meng Yuning stretched and yawned, nodding in agreement. She slipped off her shoes and lay back on the couch, covering herself with her cloak and pulling her hood over her face as before.

Yi’er focused intently on the two foxtail toys in his hands, while Qi Jingyan sat quietly watching. The room was peaceful.

Sleepiness soon overcame her, and she drifted into unconsciousness.

Before losing awareness, she heard Qi Jingyan’s gentle voice ask, “Miss Meng, may I ask where you learned such craftsmanship?”

His voice was clear, deep, and soothing—utterly disarming.

Half-asleep, she answered without thinking, “My grandmother taught me.”

Qi Jingyan glanced at the woman curled up and repeated softly, “Grandmother?”

But as far as he knew, Meng Huaifu had lost her mother early on. So who was this “grandmother” she spoke of?