Afraid After Losing Prince Duan’s Protection

After experiencing rebirth, Serena had grown cautious of people like the Old National Preceptor. That very night, she wrote a letter to Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan, asking for his support.

Serena not only wrote down everything the Old National Preceptor had said, but also asked Nolan to consult Felix Fuller. If Felix finished his business in Southern Lyn, could he come to Lyndaria and spar with the Old National Preceptor—maybe even subdue him...

"Send the letter home, and also have someone look into the Old National Preceptor’s background," Serena said as she handed the letter to Left Shore.

There was no way around it—they were staying in Prince Duan’s Manor, and couldn’t move as freely as they did at home. Mira Tang and Spring were both women, making it hard for them to come and go, and every move they made in Lyndaria was watched. Only Left Shore could travel outside without drawing suspicion.

"Alright," Left Shore replied. Although he’d lived in Lyndaria for years, he was always a technical recluse and had no experience with these matters.

Before leaving, Left Shore checked on Feng Jin’s condition. When he learned Feng Jin was well and the gu worms hadn’t grown, he finally felt a bit relieved.

It was hopeless—the Ghost Hall operative’s mouth was impossible to pry open.

After sitting alone for a while, Serena let out a gentle sigh, scooped up Little Dumpling, and headed to the bedroom. "Go ask Prince Duan when the imperial physician will arrive. Little Dumpling’s hands need their dressings changed."

Serena admitted she was doing it on purpose. Since the Emperor had sent the Old National Preceptor to unsettle her, she would remind Prince Duan just how coldly the Emperor treated father and son.

"Yes," Spring and Qiu Hui replied, bowing as they hid the amusement in their eyes.

Soon after, two people came to report that Prince Duan had led his men to storm the Princess Royal’s residence.

Serena picked up Little Dumpling, kissed his forehead, and gently said, "You have a good father, don’t blame him anymore—he’s pitiful too." Little Dumpling showed no response, except for a slight flutter of his long lashes.

Serena, seeing the gesture, knew Little Dumpling had listened. She tenderly rubbed his forehead and said, "When the imperial physician comes, give your father some face and let the doctor look at your injury. Palace doctors have secret techniques—maybe one of them can heal your hands."

If you hold someone in your arms every day, even a block of wood would inspire affection—let alone a living child. Serena truly hoped Little Dumpling would get better.

Little Dumpling lowered his head, nuzzled into Serena’s arms, and his lips drooped in a look of pure grievance.

Serena stroked Little Dumpling’s hair, her voice gentle: "Not everyone in this world is bad. Sister can’t protect you forever—only your father can. He’s always blamed himself for not protecting you. Don’t hold it against him anymore."

She knew she’d have to leave someday. Little Dumpling couldn’t keep relying on her. Stealing a princess’s son was one thing—the princess hardly cared. But taking Little Dumpling away? Prince Duan, who doted on his son, would never allow it.

"Ah—no…go," Little Dumpling blurted out in panic. Serena froze, then broke into delighted laughter: "Little Dumpling, you can talk now? Say two more words!"

Does this mean Little Dumpling’s autism is getting better?

"No…go," Little Dumpling forced out the words, his throat choked, face flushed red as he shook his head: "No, go."

"Wonderful, just wonderful… You really can talk!" Serena’s gloom from the Old National Preceptor vanished as she spun in place, hugging Little Dumpling.

Little Dumpling’s eyes sparkled as if he’d discovered a new continent. His adorable face finally showed a second expression. Realizing that speaking made Serena happy, he tried harder: "Sis… hug."

"Kiss…"

These were words Feng Jin often said. After his trauma, Little Dumpling shut out the world, living in his own shell. Only Serena and Feng Jin could reach his heart.

Prince Duan had just entered with the imperial physician he’d snatched when he heard his son speaking. Overcome with emotion, he dropped the physician and rushed toward Serena’s courtyard.

"My son—my son can talk?" Prince Duan, barely containing his excitement, stood at the doorway, afraid to startle Little Dumpling, watching anxiously.

Serena, in high spirits, held Little Dumpling and said to Prince Duan, "Little Dumpling, call your father—make him happy."

When Little Dumpling saw Prince Duan, he reverted to his blank look, pouting and clearly avoiding him. But to please Serena, he still reluctantly called out: "Father."

"Yes!" Prince Duan, showing all the traits of a doting father, answered loudly, nose tingling and tears streaming down his face. "My son finally called me Father!"

Little Dumpling stared blankly at Prince Duan, then turned away, eyes red, lips tightly pressed, silently expressing his grievance: He remembered calling for his father to save him when he was tied up, but his father never came.

The bad men locked him in a small room, where so many people died, their bodies cut apart, blood splattered on his face. They threw him into a pile of cold corpses. He cried and cried for his father to save him, calling for a long, long time—but Father never came.

He was so scared, so very scared…

Little Dumpling lowered his head, staring at his toes as big, silent tears rolled down one by one.

Father, why didn’t you come to save Ray? Ray was hurting so much and so afraid.

Plop… plop.

The sound of falling tears instantly pulled Serena from her joy. She’d been so focused on helping Little Dumpling open up, she’d forgotten whether he could bear the weight of his past.

Serena quickly scooped Little Dumpling into her arms and frantically wiped away his tears. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Don’t cry, Little Dumpling. Sister was wrong to push you. If you’re not happy, we won’t force it."

Serena didn’t want Little Dumpling to retreat after finally opening up, so she hurried to comfort him. Prince Duan, pale with worry, wanted to come closer but didn’t dare. Suddenly, Little Dumpling burst into sobs, finally voicing his pain: "Father, Father… Ray is so scared, come save Ray! It hurts, it hurts so much…"

"Ray…" Little Dumpling’s cries pierced Prince Duan’s heart like needles. His chest seized with pain; his strength drained away and he slumped against the doorpost, curling up.

Ray, forgive your father. Father knows he was wrong.