The Crown Prince practiced rigorous external martial arts, and though his skin was fair, his muscles were as solid as iron, making him impervious to most touch.

Only by carefully understanding the network of veins and muscles on his shoulders could one properly apply pressure and massage these areas.

It required a trained person to handle it effectively.

As soon as Rong Rong’s fingers touched his shoulder, a tingling sensation ran through her.

The memories of her previous experiences, both intense and fearful, surged back, making her hands tremble uncontrollably.

Noticing her trembling, the Crown Prince slightly turned his head to glance at her hand resting on his shoulder.

His high nose and sharp profile made him look stern, and even without anger, he exuded an intimidating presence.

Rong Rong immediately composed herself and tried to calm her nerves.

She was puzzled as to why the Crown Prince chose her, a maid he had never met, to massage his shoulders instead of calling for Fu Quan, who was waiting outside.

Given that she was now beautiful, it seemed unlikely that the Crown Prince would be swayed by mere looks.

Then she remembered that Jing Rong used to handle such tasks with ease.

A thought crossed her mind—perhaps the Crown Prince believed she could do well, based on her past experience.

But could it be true?

To Rong Rong, the Crown Prince was like a divine figure—omniscient and omnipotent.

Even though she had undergone many changes and only served him briefly, she couldn’t believe he would recognize her.

Rong Rong decided to act with caution.

She deliberately pressed and kneaded in a haphazard manner, avoiding the correct spots and using excessive force, ensuring she didn’t hurt him but making her own fingers ache.

After a while, the Crown Prince said, “Call Fu Quan in.”

“Yes,” Rong Rong sighed in relief, stepping outside to find Fu Quan.

Fuqian was outside inspecting the roasted deer meat that had been brought in.

The deer was freshly hunted and slaughtered today.

The deer tendons were made into a main dish, while the meat was roasted for a late-night snack.

Rong Rong quickly came out and said, “Eunuch Fuqian, His Highness the Crown Prince requests your presence.”

Fuqian turned and squinted at Rong Rong, asking, “What’s the matter?”

“I’m not skilled at massaging shoulders,” Rong Rong explained softly. “The Crown Prince asked me to have you come in and assist.”

Fuqian’s sharp gaze lingered on Rong Rong for a moment before he said kindly, “Very well, you’ve worked hard today.” He then took the roasted deer meat inside.

Rong Rong stood there with her head lowered, feeling relieved.

She put on her cloak and began to walk back, feeling a bit troubled.

The night was chilly, and after working in the hot spring and sweating a little, she now felt the cold wind.

She pulled her cloak tighter and walked forward.

Suddenly, a snowball-like bundle rolled towards her.

“Be careful!” Rong Rong hurriedly reached out and caught it.

She found herself holding a large, warm bundle of fur.

After a moment, the bundle lifted its head, revealing a delicate little face.

“I remember you. You’re the servant who didn’t bow to the Crown Prince at the gate of the manor.”

It was the little Prince.

He was wrapped in a white fox fur coat, looking like a pure snowball.

Rong Rong was surprised to encounter the little Prince without having looked for him intentionally.

She felt a surge of happiness, quickly released her hold, and bowed to him. “Greetings to His Highness the Little Prince.”

“Please rise,” the Little Prince said in a high-pitched voice, though he already had the demeanor of someone in a superior position. “Father said that outside the palace, there’s no need for formalities. You can stand up.”

Rong Rong stood up as instructed and noticed that no one else was attending the little prince.

She quickly squatted down and asked, “Your Highness, why are you here alone? Did you get lost on the estate?”

The young prince shook his head, his voice carrying a child’s innocence, though he spoke with a maturity beyond his years. “I’m not lost. I’m just walking around.”

The little prince, like his father, was strikingly handsome.

Rong Rong had noticed him briefly at the estate gates, but now, up close, she could see his features clearly.

Seeing him earlier, Rong Rong had a sentimental thought that her own child, if born, would be around the little prince’s age.

She wondered if she could recognize any resemblance between her child and the little prince.

However, as she observed the young prince, she realized he bore a resemblance to the Crown Prince but did not look entirely like Jing Rong.

While the prince inherited his father’s eyes, his nose and mouth differed, likely from his mother.

Rong Rong was struck by how the young prince’s appearance diverged from her expectations.

The prince’s nose, which was straight and high, was different from the little prince’s, which had a distinct curve at the bridge, resembling that of a person from the northern tribes.

This realization shattered her illusions.

She had once foolishly believed she was the only woman in the Crown Prince’s life, not considering that he might have turned to other women after Jing Rong became pregnant.

Her thoughts were confirmed by the young prince’s features, suggesting his mother was perhaps a beautiful and exotic woman from the northern tribes.

She was merely a mistress, without any formal acknowledgment from the Crown Prince, and had no reason to think she was unique in his affections.

Rong Rong felt a pang of jealousy.

The woman who had the Crown Prince’s heart and bore such a beautiful child must have been very special indeed.

The little prince noticed Rong Rong’s tears and, with his chubby little hand, reached out to wipe them away.

He was dressed in a fox fur coat and a mink hat, his hands warm and comforting.

Rong Rong came to her senses and, seeing the little prince trying to comfort her, quickly took out a handkerchief to clean his hands. “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. I’m fine. Do you need me to take you back to your quarters?”

“I can’t sleep. I came out to find Father,” the little prince said, tilting his head. “Auntie, Father said that when you’re sad, you shouldn’t hold it in, or your heart will hurt.”

Did the Crown Prince really say that? Despite his usual cold demeanor, he could express such gentle words.