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Yachang was unharmed, and the two young fathers let out a sigh of relief. Still, Wang Xiujin remained uneasy. After all, the medical standards of this era were truly backward; internal illnesses could easily be delayed or misdiagnosed. It wasn’t that Wang Xiujin distrusted traditional medicine, but before the apocalypse, the traditional medicine he’d known rarely relied solely on its own methods—most practitioners only wore the façade of tradition, with little difference from Western medicine except perhaps for prescribing some herbal remedies. Yet, in this era, there was nothing else to turn to; whether he felt at ease or not, he had no choice but to trust.

Lying on his small bed, Yachang blinked his large eyes at his little father, putting on a pitiful expression and waving his tiny hands, hoping for a hug—anything but drinking medicine. Wang Xiujin had no idea what his son was thinking; seeing his son’s pitiful look and recalling the recent fall, he asked Li Linshan to pick him up, while he went to fetch the medicine.

As Wang Xiujin collected the medicine, he reflected on how meticulous he was with his son, yet seemed far less attentive with his elders. He thought of the mother who had given birth to him, and the father whom many criticized; when he was young, both parents had been exceedingly careful with him. It was only after becoming a father himself that he began to constantly reflect on his attitude towards his parents, resolving to be truly filial in the future.

Bringing the medicine home, Wang Xiujin didn’t let anyone else handle it. He had brewed medicine for his mother as a child and knew how it was done. Sitting on a small stool, he slowly fanned the decoction, sincerely praying that his son would recover after drinking it. The process was long and tedious, but perhaps because he was filled with hope, Wang Xiujin didn’t feel impatient. From gathering the herbs to brewing the medicine, then bringing it to Yachang, he was cautious every step of the way, afraid of making any mistake.

He had imagined countless ways to coax his son into taking the medicine, but to his surprise, the boy obediently drank it spoonful by spoonful. Wang Xiujin thought perhaps the medicine wasn’t bitter after all, but when he secretly tasted it, he nearly spat it out. After Yachang finished the medicine, Wang hurried to give him some honey water to rinse away the bitterness, then soothed him to sleep. In a quiet voice, he asked Li Linshan, “Do you think our son has a problem with his sense of taste? The medicine was so bitter and he didn’t resist at all. I racked my brains thinking of ways to get him to drink it.”

Li Linshan was silent. He’d had the same worry, seeing how the child drank the medicine as if it were some delicacy. “Let’s wait and see.”

Considering their son still couldn’t speak clearly, unable to express sweetness or bitterness, Wang Xiujin could only agree to wait. Yet his heart, just recently put at ease, grew anxious again. “How about we add a railing to the soft couch? Our son will surely play on it often.”

“Let’s have a new, lower soft couch made, wide enough for him to climb up and down.” Li Linshan surveyed the room. “Put it over there,” he said, pointing to a spot.

Wang Xiujin nodded; money wasn’t an issue for them. A new couch would last a long time, and when the boy was older, he could sleep on his own. “We’ll build him a room in the courtyard. When he’s fifteen or sixteen, if he wants his own yard, we can partition one for him.”

“Alright,” Li Linshan agreed. The two began quietly planning for their son’s future, while on the bed, the little child kept spitting, still tasting the intense bitterness despite the honey water. Drinking medicine was truly dreadful.

That evening, when they visited the elder’s courtyard, the old man inquired about the doctor, and the two recounted the incident anxiously. In contrast to their caution, the elders seemed unconcerned; it was as if a child falling from the bed was no big deal. The two relaxed—after all, this was their first child, and it seemed they were perhaps being overly careful. Yet, they couldn’t help but worry over every detail of the child’s growth. Perhaps it was just the nature of having a firstborn? No wonder people often had their children close together—three in three years, four in four—so they wouldn’t become too doting.

Even so, with the whole family revolving around a single child, and given the care and affection Wang Xiujin and Li Linshan showed Yachang, no matter how many children they had, each would receive the same love and care, with no favoritism.

Leaving aside Yachang’s affairs, Wang Xiujin brought up again the issue of the royal family sending children to the estate, sharing his thoughts. The elders fully supported his decisions—as always, they agreed unconditionally with whatever Wang Xiujin decided.

In the palace, the Emperor naturally heard about Wang Xiujin sending four- or five-year-old children back to their families. After learning the reason, the monarch agreed with Wang Xiujin’s reasoning, though he’d heard that even poor children worked the fields.

“Your Excellency, the children are too small, not even as tall as a hoe. They can’t even hold one, so farming is out of the question. Even in the villages, the poorest families rely on the help of others, and no one expects the children to work alone. Besides, these children haven’t experienced that environment; they don’t feel impoverished, and forcing them to farm would only breed resentment, no matter how strictly you command them,” the royal relative reported to the Emperor, repeating Wang Xiujin’s words. “Older children, with better judgment and strength, can work, and he does not object to that.”

The Emperor nodded. “It seems I truly should see the world outside. Wang Xiujin once said I know nothing of the common people’s lives, confined as I am within the city walls. Ministers report only to gain merit and wealth.”

The royal relative grew alarmed. “Your Majesty, that would be too dangerous! If anything were to happen—”

“I have guards; my fourth son can manage some affairs. What’s the harm?” The Emperor became more determined. “Not only do I wish to see the people, I want to visit the soldiers at the frontier. They defend the borders for me; I should see for myself whether those in the rear have delivered supplies properly.”

The royal relative’s anxiety grew; he knew he could not persuade the Emperor and decided to consult others after leaving the palace. Yet the rest of the royal family was unconcerned. “You worry too much. If we can’t dissuade the Emperor, his ministers certainly will. Do you think those scheming officials will let the fourth prince ascend to power without a fuss? The Emperor will have a hard time leaving the capital.”

Wang Xiujin, blissfully unaware of the Emperor’s intentions, would have wholeheartedly approved if he knew. At the moment, he was coaxing his son to take medicine on the soft couch. But Yachang, put off by the bitterness, refused to cooperate—especially after hearing his little father joke about his sense of taste before giving him the medicine.

While relieved that his son’s taste was normal, Wang Xiujin was now at a loss. “What should we do?” he asked Li Linshan, looking miserable. Li Linshan shook his head. He had many younger brothers but little chance to interact with them as a child. Instead, he often visited his younger sister, who was very well-behaved and seldom sick, so he’d never had to care for her when ill.

“Let’s call Nanny Li and see if she has any ideas.” Having raised children herself, she might know what to do.

Nanny Li arrived quickly. Hearing she was to give the young master his medicine, she immediately took the spoon. With practiced hands, she pinched the child’s mouth with one hand, scooped a spoonful of medicine with the other, pressed down his tongue, tilted the spoon upwards, and poured the medicine in. One spoonful after another, she quickly finished, while Yachang’s eyes widened and his legs kicked, but there was no escape from the forced medicine.

Wang Xiujin and Li Linshan were dumbfounded. Even after the medicine was gone, they dared not move their son, for fear he would choke.

“Noble Master, the honey water for the young master is ready. Should I give it to him now, or wait a bit?” Nanny Li didn’t pause—the boy’s mouth must still be bitter.

“I’ll do it.” Wang Xiujin, worried that more force-feeding would traumatize his son, took the spoon himself. Nanny Li said no more; she knew how much the two young masters doted on the child and wanted to do everything themselves. After handing over the spoon, she withdrew.

Wang Xiujin and Li Linshan worked together to feed the boy some honey water. Yachang’s big eyes brimmed with tears, yet he stubbornly refused to let them fall—a pitiful sight that tore at Wang Xiujin’s heart. He kept promising there would be no more medicine.

Li Linshan frowned slightly. He thought their son was far too delicate; once he could stand, the whole family would have to take him out for some proper training.

Yachang shivered in his little father’s arms. Wang Xiujin, fearing his son had caught a chill, felt his forehead. The boy was sweaty from resisting the medicine, his hair damp. “Bring a cloth—Yachang’s head is soaked. Let’s not let him catch cold.” Yachang dared not move again, afraid more medicine would come his way.

The children brought back to the capital slept soundly at home, then went to school in the morning. The teachers had already heard the news, and when the children came to class, the teachers smiled in a way that sent chills down the students’ spines. Did the teachers have some trick in mind? No, that couldn’t be—it had been confirmed yesterday that Wang Xiujin was a good man; after sending them home, he’d spoken kindly to their fathers. There would be no tricks. The teachers were probably just expressing concern.