Chapter 52 – One Month Old

Wan Anran had no idea that someone in Chengqian Palace had already begun to resent her. At present, all her thoughts were focused on one thing—getting through her confinement month.

This month had been incredibly hard to endure. Just thinking about it brought tears to Wan Anran’s eyes.

No wind = no going outside.
No water = no washing hair or bathing.

She could still deal with the first part—reading, writing, knitting, even doing needlework to pass the time. But the second? That was pure torture. After repeated protests, she finally got permission to at least have her hair combed and treated with fragrant oils, and occasionally wipe her body with a warm damp cloth. But today—finally—she could take a proper bath!

From the afternoon onward, Wan Anran had been practically bouncing with anticipation.

Haitao and the others had already noticed how eager their mistress was, and began boiling milk and water early—yes, today Wan Anran had decided to first scrub herself clean and then indulge in a luxurious milk bath, complete with flower petals.

“Master, everything’s ready.”

“Good, good, good! Nanny Zhao, I’ll leave Little Peach to you.” Hearing Haitao’s voice, Wan Anran’s eyes lit up as she quickly handed over her son to Nanny Zhao.

This Nanny Zhao had been personally assigned by the Empress. She had a kind, round face and gentle features.

Though she was a bit older, Nanny Zhao was quick and efficient, managing everything inside and out with ease and perfection. Even Zisu, who prided herself on being thorough, had to admit defeat in comparison.

Not to mention the wet nurse and palace maids and eunuchs who cared for the little prince. Previously, they would often get in the way when Wan Anran tried to be close to her son. But ever since Nanny Zhao arrived, they had all turned into trembling little quails, careful to the extreme, terrified of making even the tiniest mistake.

In short? One word: formidable.

Jubai had even found out that this Nanny Zhao used to nurse Prince Gong in his childhood. But Wan Anran didn’t think much of that. If she had really raised Prince Gong, she would have been taken into the prince’s residence long ago to enjoy a life of luxury—why would she still be in the palace caring for someone else’s child? Besides, Wan Anran had great faith in the Empress. If even the Empress hadn’t discovered a problem, what were the odds she could? 🙂

One must know their own limits, right?

Wan Anran accepted Nanny Zhao very straightforwardly, which allowed the nervous nanny to relax and focus even more wholeheartedly on everything in Xianfu Palace.

Nanny Zhao smiled in response and carefully took the quiet Eleventh Prince, placing him gently in the cradle. He really was the easiest child she’d ever looked after—except for one oddity: he didn’t like toys, didn’t enjoy milk, and had an extremely sour expression whenever his diaper was changed…

After handing over Little Peach, Wan Anran happily lifted the curtain and stepped out. The bathhouse was already warm and steamy. She undressed and sat on a stool, giving herself a thorough scrub from head to toe, washed her hair carefully, and finally rinsed twice with clean water before stepping into the bathtub.

Her face, unseen by sunlight for some time, gained a rosy flush under the rising steam. Her tired limbs relaxed completely in the warm water. Wan Anran stretched out and sank deeper into the tub, her whole body overwhelmed by one word: comfort.

Haitao and the others came forward with smiling faces. They scattered dried flower petals into the bath, and a fragrant scent began to fill the room. Wan Anran patted the water’s surface, rested her arms, and whispered with a pout: “I want beef noodle soup. With thick slices of beef and some chili sauce.”

“I’ll tell the little kitchen right away.”

“Beef meat pies wouldn’t be bad either—crispy outer layer, soft and springy inside… Mmm, just thinking about it makes my mouth water.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll have them prepare it right away.”

“And fried chicken legs, iron-pot stewed goose, spicy diced chicken, lamb skewers, spicy duck intestines…” Wan Anran continued listing them nonstop.

At first, Haitao really did plan to go to the kitchen and pass along the orders. But by the end, she couldn’t help laughing. This wasn’t today’s menu—this was clearly her mistress venting a whole year’s worth of culinary frustration.

Could Wan Anran not have complaints?

When she first arrived in this world, she’d been living in fear and panic. Just when things had calmed down enough for her to enjoy a little eating and drinking, she ended up pregnant.

And pregnancy was hard!

She couldn’t eat anything, couldn’t use anything. Even the idea of tossing a couple of chili flakes into soup was enough to make people treat her like a criminal. Sweet milk tea? Off limits. Savory milk tea? Also banned. All she got was hot water or—if she was lucky—some chicken broth with goji berries.

And did giving birth mean it was finally over?

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!
The damned Qing Palace didn’t even allow birth mothers to nurse their own children. As soon as the baby was born, it was nothing but one bowl after another of milk-suppressing tonics, body-repairing soups—endless! Bitter medicinal broths, and if not that, then soup soup soup: chicken soup, duck soup, occasionally softshell turtle soup or crucian carp with tofu. No matter the type of soup, it all boiled down to one word: bland.

But now Wan Anran was finally free.

She lay in the milk bath and vowed that from today onward, she would try every single delicious dish out there. First… She thought for a moment and then waved her hand. “Bring me a milk tea to whet my appetite.”

Haitao responded with a smile.

Once Wan Anran had changed into a clean cotton robe and returned to her room feeling completely refreshed, the ever-ready Jubai came forward and handed her a steaming hot cup of milk tea.

Inside the milk tea were freshly roasted sweet red beans, and next to it, a small jar of taro paste made from Lipu taro. Just one spoonful mixed in made the milk tea taste rich and sweet—utterly irresistible.

This was the flavor!

Wan Anran hadn’t had milk tea in nearly a year. At the first sip, her nose twitched and her eyes nearly teared up.

She downed the bowl in one go.

Then she shoved the empty bowl toward Jubai and declared loudly: “Another!”

In the cradle, little Yinzheng’s brows furrowed deeply.

He stared closely at Wan Liuhashi, but could not find anything suspicious about her.

Could it be that what Little Peach said earlier was just nonsense?
Yinzheng, ever paranoid, couldn’t stop himself from doubting. But he didn’t let his guard down, keeping his eyes fixed on Wan Anran.

The problem was—he was still a baby.

And while Yinzheng as a baby could resist many things, sleep was not one of them. His eyes narrowed to slits before he struggled to keep them open again. Tears welled up without him realizing, his wide, watery eyes making him unbearably adorable.

And naturally, this drew Wan Anran’s attention.

Especially since Little Peach was staring at her unblinkingly. Wan Anran chalked it up to mother-son telepathy. Seeing how adorable her son looked, she—though she often claimed to be exasperated by him—couldn’t help but melt. Picking up Little Peach, she began her daily “baby cuddling time.”

Just look at that little face—so fair and tender, how could she not give it a kiss? No! One kiss would never be enough! Wan Anran leaned in and planted kisses on both cheeks. Then those chubby little hands, little feet, and that snow-white little tummy—how could she resist taking a few more bites?

Wan Anran gave her little dumpling a thorough round of kisses.

As for the little dumpling—Yin Zhen—he was completely dumbfounded. His drowsiness vanished instantly as he stared in shock at the improper behavior of Noble Lady Wan. So this is what Twelfth Brother’s birth mother is really like?

Twelfth Brother really is impressive.

To think he managed to hide all of this for so many years without anyone finding out. While marveling at it, Yin Zhen also felt a bit sour inside. No wonder, even though he was raised in Cining Palace, Twelfth Brother remained so close to his mother…

Wait a second…

She’s his mother now too, isn’t she? Amidst the confusion, Yin Zhen suddenly felt a subtle wave of joy. Could it be that, in this life, he might also get to experience what it means to have a mother’s love?

No, no! That’s not right! No matter what, the most important thing now is to stop Noble Lady Wan from kissing him! Yin Zhen tried to resist, letting out soft little whimpers and flailing his arms and legs in protest.

Was there any chance of success? Of course not!

Those offered-up little hands and feet were enthusiastically received by Wan Anran!

Under the rain of kisses, the little dumpling’s resistance was once again thoroughly crushed. In the end, Yin Zhen lay there like a fish out of water, arms and legs limp, with only the words “utterly resigned to fate” written all over his face.

Wan Anran: Satisfied.jpg

The palace servants stifled their laughter, and Madam Zhao quickly picked up the pitiful-looking Eleventh Prince and returned him to the cradle. After struggling against Wan Anran for half the day, Yin Zhen had barely touched the soft bedding before his eyes immediately shut.

Exhausted…

Within just a few breaths, he was already sleeping soundly, mouth slightly open, his little belly rising and falling.

Wan Anran leaned over for a peek and laughed, “Little Dumpling fell asleep so fast.”

“Master, the young prince sleeps fast so he can grow fast!”

“That’s true,” Wan Anran nodded. After kissing her baby and finishing off another cup of milk tea along with a plate of snacks, she decided to put on a cloak and take a walk in the courtyard to help her digestion and get some fresh air.

Just as she stepped outside, Nanny Xia happened to arrive. Smiling, she curtsied and said, “Master Wan, Consort Xuan invites you to the main hall for a talk.”

Consort Xuan had a few matters to discuss with Wan Anran.

First, the East Wing where Wan Anran had previously lived was a bit too small. It had been fine when it was just her, but now with the Eleventh Prince and a full retinue of palace staff, it was clearly inadequate. Therefore, the entire East Side Hall had been reassigned for her use.

Having spent her postpartum confinement month there, Wan Anran smiled and thanked her for the favor. Consort Xuan nodded. “As for the second matter…”

She furrowed her brows, hesitating slightly. After studying Wan Anran’s expression for a moment, she spoke cautiously, “It’s about the Eleventh Prince’s full-month celebration.”

Every imperial prince was born into honor and status.

From the day they were born, they were served by more than forty attendants. The “Three-Day Bath,” the full-month celebration, and the first-year “Zhua Zhou” ceremony were all extremely important events. The problem now was that both the Eleventh and Twelfth Princes had been born on the same day, which made scheduling their ceremonies complicated.

Normally, for the full-month celebration, all the imperial consorts and princesses would be expected to visit and present gifts. But now… Consort Xuan’s expression turned grim. “The Noble Consort said the Twelfth Prince is too weak and can’t be exposed to the wind. She wants us to bring the Eleventh Prince to Changchun Palace to hold the celebration together.”

Bring the baby to another palace for his full-month celebration?

What nonsense was that? Even with her usually good temper, Consort Xuan couldn’t hide her anger. She had turned and stormed off on the spot when she first heard it.

But Wan Anran was much more composed.

She gently reassured Consort Xuan, “The Twelfth Prince is frail—Noble Consort is just being protective.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to bring Little Eleven…” Consort Xuan’s eyes widened, glaring at Wan Anran like she was some heartless mother.

Wan Anran couldn’t help laughing. She quickly explained, “What I meant was—why don’t we just keep it simple and host a small celebration here in Xianfu Palace? Last time for the ‘Three-Day Bath,’ the Twelfth Prince was too weak, and the Noble Consort didn’t hold one. Now she’s going all out so people can see him. Why should we go and crowd the scene? I heard Little Dumpling is a whole size bigger than the Twelfth Prince!”

That was true.

Even Consort Xuan couldn’t deny it. Their own little dumpling ate well, slept well, and was growing fast. He was round, chubby, fair-skinned, and looked exactly like the lucky babies painted on New Year pictures—unbelievably adorable.

And then there was the Twelfth Prince over in Changchun Palace—skinny like a monkey. The contrast was stark. Thinking about it, Consort Xuan’s mood eased. “That’s true. When the New Year comes, we’ll take him out and really show him off! But we can’t skip the full-month celebration either! Even if it’s here at Xianfu Palace, we’ll still throw a lively one!”

Her words were firm and full of conviction.

Seeing how fired up Consort Xuan was, Wan Anran found it both amusing and a little exasperating. She grabbed Consort Xuan’s hand and gave it a shake. “Think about it, Your Ladyship. Infants are delicate and easily startled. During the ‘Three-Day Bath,’ I could hear the noise even from inside the house. Little Dumpling stayed unusually quiet for two whole days afterward—I nearly thought he was sick. If you ask me, we should wait until his first birthday when he’s stronger to introduce him to people. For now, let’s keep things simple.”

Consort Xuan’s expression grew more serious.

Her passionate resolve was instantly tempered by reason. Which was more important—social standing or the child’s wellbeing? Obviously, the latter. She pressed her lips together and nodded solemnly. “Understood. I’ll send someone to Changchun Palace right away.”