Chapter Thirty-Two: The Thoughtful Yongzheng

Fortunately, Hongshi knew when to yield. Ignoring the blood dripping from his nose onto the floor, he hurriedly knelt down. Because of this, Yongzheng refrained from further punishment.

"Father, please calm your anger. Your son was wrong!"

Yongzheng did not say more, only pointing toward the outside. "Get out of my sight! I do not wish to see you. Go to your Eighth Uncle! Go and tell him exactly what happened today! And remember this: if Hongli suffers even the slightest harm, you will be the first person I hold accountable!"

Hongli sighed inwardly. Yongzheng’s words were indeed harsh, but his unwavering protection of those he favored made him worthy of the filial piety a son should offer.

Despite his rebellious nature, Hongshi dared not truly go to see the Eighth Prince at such a moment. He gritted his teeth and said, "Please, Father, calm your anger. Your son will never dare to do this again!"

Yongzheng ignored him, instead taking Hongli by the hand and walking out. Once they had moved far away, Hongshi stood up. He watched the two of them for a moment, his eyes damp and his fists clenched tightly.

As for Hongli, because Yongzheng was holding his hand so firmly, he had no choice but to follow. Su Peisheng had already prepared the carriage outside. They boarded it, and inside, a small dog trotted over, wagging its tail toward Yongzheng. However, faced with Yongzheng’s icy expression, the dog stopped wagging its tail. It retreated timidly to Hongli’s side, pressing against his leg while stealing glances at Yongzheng.

Yongzheng forcibly scooped the dog up from beside Hongli’s feet and held it in his arms. The dog was terrified, whimpering and casting a pitiful, pleading look at Hongli. Knowing better than to provoke Yongzheng while he was in such a foul temper, Hongli chose to ignore the puppy’s gaze.

"In the future, if Hongshi speaks to you with disrespect or dares to lay a hand on you, tell me. Whether he admits it or not, I will only believe you!" Yongzheng said suddenly, giving Hongli his instructions.

Hongli nodded repeatedly. He realized that Yongzheng’s disgust for Hongshi had reached an extreme; he had called him by his given name directly in front of his younger brother, rather than referring to him as "your Third Brother." It was clear that even before Hongli had decided whether or not to acknowledge Hongshi as his brother, Yongzheng had already ceased to do so.

Hongli naturally said nothing, knowing that when Yongzheng was angry, it was best to remain silent. Besides, the more Yongzheng despised Hongshi, the more advantageous it was for him.

The journey from the Prince Yong manor to the Changchun Garden was long, and with the hunger that comes quickly in winter, Hongli’s stomach soon began to rumble.

"Hungry?" Yongzheng asked.

Hongli gave a soft affirmative sound. Yongzheng smiled and signaled to Su Peisheng.

"Yes, Master!" Su Peisheng replied and clapped his hands.

Soon, hurried footsteps approached, and two eunuchs carried in a food box still dusted with snowflakes. It turned out that to ensure Hongli could have hot meals on the road, Yongzheng had arranged for a separate carriage to follow, where eunuchs kept the food warm over a small flame. When the dishes were taken out and placed by the heater, they were still steaming.

"Eat. I had your mistress prepare these; they should all be to your liking. That day when your grandfather came to the manor to dine, I had them quietly note down which dishes you reached for most often." As he spoke, Yongzheng stroked the uncooperative dog in his lap and smiled at Hongli.

Seeing the food, Hongli felt even hungrier, the fire in his stomach burning brighter. His eyes grew warm. He had to admit that while Yongzheng could be harsh and heartless when he loathed someone, he was truly thoughtful and affectionate when he cared for them. It was no wonder that among the surviving edicts of Yongzheng, one could find both biting, cynical remarks and words of extraordinary sentimentality.

The cynicism was perhaps to be expected—a trait common to many absolute monarchs. But the sentimental words were quite unlike what one would expect from an emperor, especially one from the Qing Dynasty, where imperial power was so absolute.

"Father, please eat first," Hongli said, acting with added reverence. He knew that while Yongzheng could be incredibly protective and attentive, the consequences would be unimaginable if anyone mistook that for a license to become arrogant. Thus, he did not get carried away.

Yongzheng smiled. "I have already eaten. You go ahead."

"Master, please, just eat," Su Peisheng interjected. "These were prepared specifically for you. The more you enjoy them, the happier the Master will be!" Su Peisheng could see that his master now cherished the Fourth Prince to his very bones, prompting him to speak up and voice the affectionate sentiments Yongzheng might have wanted to express himself.

Yongzheng was clearly pleased, though he feigned anger. "You lowly slave, who gave you permission to speak?"

"This slave deserves a beating! Please punish me, Master!" Su Peisheng quickly acknowledged his fault.

"Enough," Yongzheng said, not truly intending to punish him.

Hongli chuckled to himself. He realized that none of the servants surrounding Yongzheng were simple; they all knew how to please their master. Sui Hede was like this, and so was Su Peisheng.

Hongli began to eat with gusto, not worrying about his table manners. He knew that although Yongzheng was often stern and formal, he frequently hoped that those close to him would be natural and unrestrained in his presence. This was not about arrogance, but about a sense of human warmth and ease. Otherwise, Su Peisheng would not have dared to chime in, and Yinxiang, a former stalwart of the Crown Prince’s faction who was known for his spontaneous and bold nature, would not have been treated as a true brother by Yongzheng upon joining his cause. Even the sixteenth prince, Yinlu, had won Yongzheng’s deep favor by being more relaxed in his presence—so much so that Yongzheng ignored the criticisms of the court to grant him the hereditary title of Prince Zhuang.

Seeing Hongli eating so heartily, Yongzheng was genuinely pleased. He personally served him tea. "Slow down, have some tea."

"Thank you, Father!" Hongli smiled and, using a pair of serving chopsticks, placed a piece of braised chicken before Yongzheng. "Father, try this. This batch of braised chicken tastes even better!"

Yongzheng opened his mouth and ate it, chewing thoughtfully. He then said with satisfaction, "It does taste good. Feed me another piece."

Hongli fed him again. Even Su Peisheng, who knew Yongzheng better than anyone, was taken aback; in his memory, his master had never been so casual. Yet, Yongzheng was truly content, stroking the dog while savoring the flavor of the chicken.

It was only when he looked out the carriage window and saw a half-naked child of a low-ranking banner man huddled in a makeshift shack, saying to his father, "Father, I am hungry," that his expression finally turned cold once more.