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Life without someone by his side was different. While he had his father, there was one person missing by his side. Growing up, he heard so many stories about the man who gave birth to him.

Xu Wuhui spent much of his childhood in confusion. He had always wondered where his mother was, where the man who gave birth to him went. During that time, Xiao Lan never told him. She merely stifled a cry with her eyes growing red.

Xu Wuhui remembered when he was younger, how his father held him in his arms. The man's handsome face was covered in sorrow as he looked at him, the strong man showing signs of weakness as he embraced him.

At that time, Xu Wuhui was only 2 years old, he didn't know why his father seemed so weary. He remembered the name that repeatedly left Xu Yongheng's mouth, Bai Mengxiang.

Later on, Xu Wuhui discovered why this name felt so familiar to him. With that name, he began to discover the information that was hidden from him.

At the age of 4 years old, he finally understood everything about Bai Mengxiang, his beloved mother, a man who he had never seen. It was only years later, a decade that he began to realize how his birth had killed a man who everyone loved.

It ate him inside, but Xu Wuhui never said anything. His life was given in exchange for the death of someone closest to him. He wouldn't give up his life so easily even with the guilt he felt.

Now, at 15 years old, Xu Wuhui was slowly taking over the royal court, aiding his father who was in sickness.

Xu Wuhui rubbed his temples as Xiao Lan called for him.

Xiao Lan was Bai Mengxiang's maid. After his death, Xiao Lan dutifully took care of him, as if repenting for not being able to save Bai Mengxiang. She was older, much more mature now. The woman didn't smile often, her expression stoic and cold. But when she spoke about Bai Mengxiang, her smile was too bright, warming the cold expression that settled on her face.

"Your Highness," Xiao Lan slightly bent her back as she called out, her voice was even and steady, no longer cheerful like in the past.

Xu Wuhui looked up. Dressed in a golden robe, the crown upon his head of white was intricate and beautiful. The man's black and gold robe showed his body that was both strong and sturdy for a man of his age. Xu Wuhui's face was a mix of Bai Mengxiang's most prominent features, yet, his eyes and brows were handed from Xu Yongheng's genes. Like Bai Mengxiang, many called him calm and gentle, but just like Xu Yongheng, he was stubborn.

"His Majesty called for you." Xiao Lan's face was expressionless, standing up to reveal her ageless face. She looked the same, but the wrinkles by her eyes aged her more than it should have. Dressed in a dull color, the pins in her hair signified her status and power.

Xu Wuhui paused in the middle of his writing, setting down his brush. "Then I should get ready." Standing up, he fixed his sleeves and robe.

Xu Yongheng was sick. It wasn't easy to see, but the man was approaching death at a fast pace. He had held on for a long time, perhaps waiting for Xu Wuhui to grow up first before handing the throne to him.

Xu Wuhui knew about what Xu Yongheng had done to Bai Mengxiang. It was hard not to know. But he couldn't even hate the man. After all, in this world, Xu Yongheng had suffered too. Xu Wuhui didn't understand the man's circumstances, but he could also see the man who suffered his punishment silently, bearing the pain day by day.

As Xu Wuhui walked, passing the maids and eunuchs, another entourage appeared from out of the Emperor's royal chambers.

"Long live Her Majesty, may you live ten thousand years," Xu Wuhui bowed towards Mei Lin as Xiao Lan also did the same.

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