After smashing and overturning Princess Royal's residence and dragging out every suspicious person, Prince Duan finally let Princess Royal go, then led his men in a grand procession toward the courtyard where Serena was staying.
"That demon has finally left." The Princess Royal's steward wiped cold sweat from his forehead, surveying the wreckage of the residence. His head throbbed, and when he looked up, he met the Princess Royal's murderous glare. Instantly panicked, he dropped to his knees and wailed, "Your Highness, what... what are we going to do now?"
The Princess Royal's face was icy, her teeth clenched as she spat, "Prepare the carriage. I am going to the palace."
"Yes, yes, right away!" The steward scrambled off, nearly tripping over himself. The Princess Royal turned, cast a venomous glance toward Serena's quarters, and stormed out in fury.
So what if Little Dumpling was in her residence? Ever since Serena arrived, she hadn't once visited the young heir's courtyard, nor had anyone come to inform her. She knew nothing about it!
The Princess Royal didn't care at all that her clothes were disheveled—she simply rushed to the palace in chaos, even in the middle of the night. Prince Duan, seeing this, only said coldly, "Let her go."
It was just smashing up a princess's residence—did the emperor really expect him to pay with his life? If anyone had to pay, it should be for Little Dumpling's life and his men's lives first.
"Prince Duan really is something else," Serena said the moment she received news of the Princess Royal residence's upheaval. She had barely finished praising him when his whole entourage broke down her door.
"Hand over Little Dumpling!" His voice arrived before he did. But inside, no one paid him any mind. Prince Duan's brows furrowed, and just as he was about to order his men to charge in, Spring opened the door and stepped out. "Greetings, Your Highness," she said with a bow. "My lady asked me to tell you: please be gentle, or you'll frighten the young heir."
Serena had already instructed Left Shore to inform Prince Titus of Little Dumpling's condition, and had him exaggerate the seriousness. Prince Duan rushed over in such a panic—he definitely knew what was going on.
Sure enough, as soon as Spring finished speaking, Prince Duan ordered his men to withdraw. His cold arrogance was replaced by guilt and self-reproach. "Is Little Dumpling... is he all right?"
Prince Duan asked hesitantly, as if terrified of hearing bad news.
A man who could bury thousands alive on the battlefield without blinking—now, he was just an ordinary father, worried for Little Dumpling and blaming himself for failing to protect him.
"He's not doing well," Spring replied softly. She couldn't bear to glare at a father like this. With a gentle sigh, she advised, "If Your Highness wishes to see the young heir, please restrain yourself. He fears men approaching and dislikes being touched."
"All right." Prince Duan tossed his sword outside. "Catch."
Smack—the deputy outside caught Prince Duan's sword with ease. Next came his armor. The armor he personally maintained every day, usually cared for meticulously, was stripped off in a few rough motions and tossed to the guards outside.
Before entering, Prince Duan took a deep breath and forced a smile, hoping to soften his harsh features and suppress his murderous aura. But...
Spring almost wanted to say: Your Highness, you'd better not smile at all!
Prince Duan pushed the door open and entered. Outwardly, he looked calm, but inside he was a bundle of nerves. He dreaded seeing anger or blame in Little Dumpling's eyes—even more, he feared seeing coldness and fear.
With his heart pounding, Prince Duan stepped inside, bracing himself for the worst. But what greeted him was a warm, homely scene—like coming home to his family after court.
Prince Duan was stunned for a moment, only snapping out of it when he met Serena's calm, steady gaze.
"You're Serena Feng?" Prince Duan instinctively reverted to his cold, arrogant mode, letting his killing aura leak out. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. The Snow Wolf's fur bristled, and with a swift move, it jumped in front of Evan and Little Dumpling, baring its sharp white fangs at Prince Duan.
Seeing a wolf so close to Little Dumpling, Prince Duan's instincts flared—he released even more killing intent and rushed forward without thinking. But before he could get close, Little Dumpling's terrified scream stopped him cold.
"Get out!" Serena snapped, rushing to the bedside and scooping Little Dumpling into her arms.
She hadn't expected Prince Duan to be so aggressive the moment he entered—her expression darkened with anger.
She'd even gone out of her way to have Prince Titus warn him about Little Dumpling's condition, but Prince Duan charged in anyway. What was he thinking?
"You told me to get out?" Only then did Prince Duan realize the wolf wasn't attacking Little Dumpling—it was protecting him. He quickly reined in his killing aura, but even so, both children were already frightened.
Little Dumpling kept burrowing into Serena's arms, his small body wriggling desperately. Evan hesitated, then, seeing Little Dumpling's actions, thought it looked like a fun game and tried to crawl into Serena's arms too. "Serena... Evan wants in too!"
"Little Dumpling...my son?" Prince Duan's gaze landed on Little Dumpling, his deep eyes shining with tears. "Is Little Dumpling really all right?"
Prince Duan wanted to pick Little Dumpling up, but seeing the child's resistance, he forced himself to hold back.
"Step back three paces," Serena said softly, gently patting Little Dumpling's back as she spoke to Prince Duan.
Only then did Prince Duan remember what Prince Titus had told him. He didn't want to believe it, but reality left him no choice.
Once Prince Duan retreated past Little Dumpling's 'safe line,' the boy gradually calmed down. Evan, imitating Serena, awkwardly patted Little Dumpling's back. "Big brother, don't be scared... Serena's here. It's okay."
When Serena picked Little Dumpling up, Evan came over and kissed Little Dumpling on the cheek. "Kiss, don't be scared." Then Evan pressed his own cheek to Little Dumpling's lips, waiting for a kiss in return.
Little Dumpling stared blankly at Evan. Only when Evan was on the verge of tears did Little Dumpling mechanically kiss his cheek, like a puppet obeying a command.
Prince Duan's tears burst forth. "Little Dumpling..."
"When I found Little Dumpling, he was hanging from a tree, barely alive. He wasn't tortured, but his arms had been tied for so long that by the time we got there, both were necrotic."
Serena recounted everything calmly, her voice devoid of emotion. "His body wasn't harmed, but his mind suffered terribly. I don't know what happened before I found him, but when I rescued Little Dumpling, he was already deeply withdrawn, terrified of people approaching or touching him."
Serena kept her explanation brief—Prince Duan would investigate everything himself, so there was no need for details.
"You're saying Little Dumpling's hands are ruined, and he'll always be like this? Even I can't get close to him?" Prince Duan's fists clenched, veins bulging, his entire body radiating a chilling aura.
He wanted to kill, to tear apart those who hurt Little Dumpling. But right now... he couldn't do anything. He had to restrain himself—he couldn't frighten his own child.