Chapter 10: Soaring to the Clouds, Basking in Wealth
Chapter 10: Soaring to the Clouds, Basking in Wealth
Zhou Cuihua wrenched Hong’s small hand away with a sharp tug, her voice rising in a harsh scold. “What kind of status does the Princess Consort hold? How could lowly commoners like us dare to aspire to such heights?”
“Everyone, sit down! Whoever doesn’t listen will go without dinner tonight!”
The Head of the Foundling Hall gestured for Chen Hongluo to leave the room, then slammed the door shut with a finality that echoed through the silence.
Only then did she let out a heavy sigh, her demeanor softening into weary apology. “Forgive my rudeness, Your Highness. I am truly sorry.”
“It is nothing,” Chen Hongluo said, her voice trembling slightly as her brow furrowed. “Hong... why did she call me ‘Mother’?”
Chen Hongluo was shaken. She was an unblemished maiden of noble blood; how could she accept such a title from a foundling?
“This... is their usual state,” Zhou Cuihua said, her face etched with deep, helpless sorrow. “Every child who comes to the Foundling Hall craves the warmth of a family. They miss their parents. When they see a stranger, their first instinct is to call out ‘Father’ or ‘Mother.’ None of them want to stay here. It is... there is simply nothing we can do about it.”
*Craving the warmth of a family...*
Zhou Cuihua’s offhand remark struck Chen Hongluo like a physical blow.
*Back then, Anzhi... was my ninth brother, Chen Chang’an, the same?*
At the mention of Chen Chang’an, Zhou Cuihua suddenly smiled, a nostalgic light softening her eyes.
“The Ninth Prince cried the loudest in the Foundling Hall. He tried to follow strangers away from us more than once, causing us quite a headache. But who could have imagined he would return to the Huainan Manor? From then on, he soared to the clouds, enjoying boundless power and wealth. I often tell the children about the Ninth Prince’s journey now. I tell them that if they can endure the loneliness, perhaps their parents are high-ranking officials too!”
Zhou Cuihua’s excitement was palpable, but a cold dread settled deep in Chen Hongluo’s stomach.
*Soaring to the clouds, basking in wealth.*
*Was Chen Chang’an really living like that?*
If he truly lived in such splendor, why would he have left the Huainan Manor? Why would he have tried so desperately to return to the Foundling Hall?
Chen Hongluo’s face drained of color. “Head Zhou, has my ninth brother visited the Foundling Hall recently?”
Upon hearing this, Zhou Cuihua’s expression darkened.
“N-no.”
“No?”
“Yes.” A bitter smile twisted Zhou Cuihua’s lips. “Chen Chang’an has been gone for six whole years. He has not returned once. He has not looked back at us once.... We often say that people can share hardship, but they cannot share wealth.” She let out a dry, cynical laugh. “We are merely lowly commoners. How could the Ninth Prince be willing to acknowledge such a shameful chapter of his past?”
Chen Hongluo’s body trembled violently. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
She wanted to tell Zhou Cuihua that perhaps he didn’t *want* to come back because he didn’t even have the money for travel! Everyone assumed he had risen to the heavens, but in reality, he was living worse than a stray dog.
Chen Hongluo felt her breath hitch, her face turning ashen. She could not stay in the Foundling Hall a moment longer.
“Head Zhou, I... I am feeling unwell. I must return.”
Zhou Cuihua immediately dropped to her knees. “We bid farewell to the Princess Consort! Long live the Princess Consort! May you live ten thousand years!”
Chen Hongluo refused the Head’s offer to see her out, hurrying back to her carriage.
Behind her, Zhou Cuihua pushed open the door and shouted to the children inside. “The Ninth Prince asked his sister to send us a large shipment of supplies! Why are you all crying? Eat your meals properly! Once you grow to ten years old, your parents will come to take you home! From then on, you will soar to the clouds and bask in wealth!”
*Soaring to the clouds, basking in wealth!*
Those same phrases echoed in Chen Hongluo’s ears, sounding absurdly hollow.
She urged Uncle Hu to drive, leaving the Foundling Hall behind in a blur of dust.
Chen Hongluo was the eldest daughter of the Huainan Manor. From the moment she was born, she had basked in her father’s protection and her mother’s pampering. She had always assumed that every child in the world enjoyed the same privilege.
But today...
Seeing Hong, she realized how desperately the child wished to shout “Mother” from the depths of her heart.
If she put herself in Hong’s shoes, what about Chen Chang’an?
When he had snuck into his mother’s bedchamber... when he had held his mother’s Gold-Threaded Robe...
He had simply wanted his mother to hold him.
He was only seeking that elusive affection.
What was wrong with that?
What was *wrong* with that?
Chen Hongluo burst into tears, her heart aching with every ragged breath. It hurt so profoundly.
***
Back at the manor.
Chen Zhan was playing a game of Beast Chess with Chen Qiuyue, while Chu Yanran watched from the side with a smile.
Seeing Chen Hongluo step out of the carriage pale-faced and red-eyed, Chu Yanran’s brow creased. “Hongluo, what is wrong?”
Chen Hongluo shook her head listlessly. “Mother, it is nothing. I just saw the children in the Foundling Hall... it broke my heart.”
Chu Yanran rolled her eyes, exasperated. “You are simply too soft-hearted. You should learn from your father—he cuts down tens of thousands on the battlefield without so much as blinking!”
“It is not the same—”
Before Chen Hongluo could finish, Chen Zhan interjected coldly, “Is the boy there?”
“Father, my ninth brother is not there.”
“Not there?”
Chen Zhan frowned. Chu Yanran’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “That ungrateful child! He exists only to infuriate me. When we find him, I will teach him a lesson he won’t forget! You are unwell, Hongluo—go back to your room and rest. Your father has already dispatched the Scout Corps. I am sure we will find him soon!”
Chen Hongluo turned toward her room, but stopped at the threshold, her voice barely above a whisper. “Father, Mother... do you truly know my ninth brother?”
Chen Zhan scoffed in silent disdain. *Know him?* In his mind, a true son of the Chen line shed blood, not tears. A real man did not resort to petty flattery or weeping. Chen Chang’an possessed none of the spine required of a Prince’s heir. Had he not been of their blood, Chen Zhan would never have permitted him to step foot in the manor.
“Of course we know him!” Chu Yanran declared. “A petty thief, a crybaby, a lunatic! If I hadn’t disciplined him strictly, he would have brought ruin upon our household!”
Chen Hongluo merely shook her head. She was not asking about the boy who had returned to the Huainan Manor.
She was asking about the child who had grown up in the Foundling Hall.
She opened her mouth to ask more, but cheerful laughter erupted from the gaming table behind her.
“Father, I won!”
“How did your Leopard end up in a tree?”
“Father, who told you leopards cannot climb trees? You are supposed to be the Great General, yet you lost to your own daughter!”
“Ha! No cheating! Give me a thousand taels—I want to buy new jewelry!”
“Alright, alright...”
This scene had played out countless times before, and Chen Hongluo had never given it a second thought. But today, the warmth felt stifling, the laughter suffocating.
Retreating to her quarters, her maid, Xuan’er, stepped forward and spoke tentatively, “Eldest Princess, that wooden box you retrieved from the Ninth Prince’s room... shall I throw it away?”
In the past, Chen Chang’an’s belongings would never have been tolerated near her chambers; she had considered them vulgar and filthy.
But today, she desperately wished to glimpse the truth of his past.
“Bring the box in. Break the lock and let me see.”
Xuan’er looked at her in surprise, but before the maid could move, Chen Hongluo hastily called out, “Wait!”
*If my ninth brother returns and sees that I destroyed his box, he will be furious...*
“Go find a locksmith. Have him pick the lock cleanly.”
Xuan’er glanced at the darkening sky outside. “Eldest Princess, night has already fallen. The locksmiths have likely closed their shops...”
“Then wait outside his door until dawn! Can you not even handle so simple a task?” Chen Hongluo snapped, her voice sharp with uncharacteristic fury. “Get out! I want to be left alone!”
Terrified, Xuan’er bowed hurriedly and retreated from the room.
*Has the Eldest Princess lost her mind?*
***
On a battered fishing boat—Chen Chang’an’s temporary refuge.
Outside, a violent storm raged, wind and rain whipping the dark waters. Inside, lit by a flickering oil lamp, Chen Chang’an held a scroll, reciting aloud to engrave its contents into his memory.
“...Gazing upon the distant hills and swallowing the mighty river, vast and boundless, stretching toward the horizon...”
“...The dark wind howls as muddy waves crash against the sky...”
“...Neither overjoyed by external gains, nor saddened by personal losses...”
“...To be the first to worry about the world’s troubles, and the last to rejoice in its happiness...”
“...Ah! Without such noble souls, with whom could I walk?”
Having finished reciting the *Record of Yueyang Tower*, Chen Chang’an tightened his grip on the scroll.
By day, he taught the old fisherman’s son to read and write in exchange for shelter; by night, he studied relentlessly under the lamp, preparing for the Imperial Examination. Fortunately, the vast store of knowledge from his previous life remained sharp in his mind.
Hurried footsteps echoed against the wet deck outside. The cabin door creaked open, admitting three drenched figures.
“Big Brother, why did you summon us here so urgently? What happened?”