Chapter 38: The Canary Captured by the Enemy Emperor (End)

The three children, born thanks to divine-grade elixirs, were incredibly gifted. If not for the limited spiritual energy in this world, they might have awakened godly constitutions. At just six months, they could walk and speak. At one year old, they could already read classic texts.

For their first birthday “Zhuazhou” ceremony, they were placed on red carpets, surrounded by treasures—gold, silver, ink brushes, scrolls, ancient books, and more. Each child would choose freely, as a symbolic blessing for their future.

Lin Muqing and Jun Yuanming sat high above the hall, smiling as they waved at their three tiny figures clad in golden robes.

“So many shinies,” said the eldest prince, eyes wide like black grapes, hands behind his back. He waddled around mimicking his father, but looked like a tiny, uncoordinated version.

The gathered ministers all rose and bowed.
“Greetings to the three princes!”

None of the children responded.

The second prince didn’t look at anyone or speak. He tottered forward to grab his favorite items. He picked up a brush, then a gold ingot, then dropped them for a finely carved black horse. He chased new things and dropped old ones without a second thought.

The third prince, upon being placed on the ground, toddled straight toward the high platform—like a cannonball ready to fire.
“Mother! So pretty!”

He completely ignored the ceremonial items, marched up the steps one by one, and reached Lin Muqing, arms raised:
“Carry me!”

“San’er, go down and pick something you like first,” Lin Muqing coaxed, pointing to the sea of valuable objects below.

“Okay!” the little boy clapped, turned around, and backed down the stairs carefully, one step at a time.

The ministers were amazed. They burst into applause. This one-year-old was more cautious and clever than most five-year-olds they knew.

The Empress Dowager covered her mouth as she laughed in delight.

—

Meanwhile, the second prince ran around grabbing all the gold ingots—one, two, three… ten in total—and stacked them neatly on an abacus.

Then he toddled up toward the high platform, hugging the abacus tightly. Every few steps, he checked to make sure nothing had fallen.

Everyone was stunned speechless.

“Yuan Yi is truly clever,” the Empress Dowager voiced what everyone was thinking.

“Buy… sugar… candy!” he cried, clearly trying to ask for candied hawthorn.

But the second prince couldn’t climb up the stairs. He looked up at his father and blinked hard, his milky voice pleading:
“Father… carry!”

Jun Yuanming’s handsome face broke into a smile. He rose from his seat and lifted the boy with ease.
“So you like gold that much?”

“Like! Like! And also like Mother!” he giggled, peeking shyly at Lin Muqing.

The Empress Dowager took him into her arms, unable to stop smiling.
“Grandmother!” he chirped clearly.

—

Eventually, the third prince picked a children’s book about agriculture and a set of calligraphy tools, then ran joyfully back to his mother.

The eldest prince waited until the others were done, then picked up a golden bowl and a seal.

“I like this!” he declared.

The golden bowl and seal—classic symbols of officialdom. But what prince becomes an official?

Some courtiers gave worried glances toward the Emperor.

Jun Yuanming burst into open laughter. He strode forward and lifted his eldest son.
“Then you must grow up quickly. Father and Mother are waiting to travel the world with you.”

Lin Muqing also scooped up the third prince. Artists on the scene quickly captured the heartwarming moment on canvas.

—

The system told her: the eldest prince was the true “male lead” of this world. Her mission was complete—now, she simply needed to raise them well.

But five years later, Lin Muqing wanted a daughter. She took a special pill and gave birth to a princess.

Princess Jiarong, the only princess in the kingdom, was pampered by her three older brothers. She grew up doted upon and adored.

Still, Lin Muqing guided her toward kindness and wisdom, avoiding a spoiled temperament. Yet Jiarong grew up a bit too innocent. At ten, she was nearly tricked by a noble’s son who saved her and tried to win her heart with a favor.

Lin Muqing helped her see the world for what it was—some people are trustworthy, others are not. Jiarong understood, and when she realized his motives, she fought back smartly and asserted her dignity as a princess. The boy was sentenced to prison for deceiving a royal.

—

Years passed. Her children all grew up strong and brilliant.

The eldest prince ascended the throne at 15. Just like his Zhuazhou prediction, he ruled wisely and launched reforms that brought Northern Qi to new heights.

The second prince became a merchant. Obsessed with money but brilliant with finance, he helped his brother stabilize the kingdom’s treasury.

The third prince focused on agriculture. Lin Muqing taught him about plant breeding and soil improvement. He cultivated barren lands and fed the entire kingdom.

Princess Jiarong, after her early experience, trained in martial arts. A stunning beauty and national icon, she never held a court position but became a legendary figure in the martial world.

Eventually, Lin Muqing and Jun Yuanming left the palace, traveling the world together once their children were grown.

She learned to fight, to ride horses, shoot arrows, paint with ink, and perform tea ceremonies. Jun Yuanming—world-wise and ever patient—taught her everything she wanted to know.

They lived in luxury, always fed and clothed with the finest the empire had to offer.

“With a life this good… how could I possibly live another lifetime after this?” she once sighed, leaning against him under the mountain breeze, staring at endless blue skies.

Jun Yuanming pulled her close.
“If we do get another lifetime… I’ll still pamper you. Even more.”

“Qing’er, I love you. Thank you for bringing color to my life.”

“I love you too,” she replied, smiling just like the day they first met.

—

They returned to the palace only once every five years—the road was long, and they enjoyed the journey.

Though Jun Yuanming had suffered injuries in youth, he remained surprisingly healthy. At 75, he still had not fallen ill. He thought back to the mysterious bowl of soup Qing’er once gave him—but never asked.

One day, as he watched her, he whispered,
“Qing’er, shall we go see the peach blossoms at Zhenping?”

“You should’ve said so earlier!” she laughed, eyeing his graying hair. “Let’s do that, and then… let’s return home for good.”

Jun Yuanming understood. “Home” meant settling down. Peace.

“You’re still young and beautiful. I’ve aged, or we could’ve traveled even more.”

“I never minded,” she said sweetly. “I came here for you.”

—

Three years later, they returned home. Their grandson had become emperor at forty.

At 90, Jun Yuanming still had no illness. But one morning, he seemed to know the end was near.

While Lin Muqing combed her hair, he stood behind her and said,
“Qing’er… let me do your hair one last time.”

It was a tradition he had picked up from a peasant couple, years ago. For 40 years, he had lovingly combed her hair every morning.

“This won’t be the last,” she said, handing him her crown.

He dressed her carefully. They shared breakfast with their family.

That night, Jun Yuanming felt a deep sleep coming, one he might not wake from.
“Qing’er… if there is another life, I want to find you first.”

She hugged him tightly.
“Even if there is, you’ll forget me.”

“…But this life was enough.”

“No. It wasn’t.” He paused, then added, “You’re still young. Go see the world. I’ve arranged everything with Hongrui. If anyone bullies you, tell me in a dream…”

But his voice trailed off—he never finished his sentence.

His hand fell limp.

Lin Muqing held him through the night, silently weeping.

—

At dawn, the system asked:

【Host, are you ready to leave?】

“…Let’s go.” she whispered, slowly closing her eyes.