Xi Linxuan did not seem to enjoy socializing. After finishing his meal, he would sit briefly, have a second cup of tea, and then return to his room. In private, Lady Wei and Lord Wei discussed this with emotion in their inner chambers.
Lord Wei said, “His Highness is intelligent, just not very diligent.” Lady Wei sighed, “A prince with a chronic illness has already done well. He’s about the same age as our children. Why should my husband be so demanding?”
Lady Wei, inherently kind-hearted, began to develop a maternal affection for the prince. Whatever her children received, the prince would also get: pieces of clothing, small trinkets from the market, and even the birds Wei Zhixing loved were hung in the prince’s corridor. Most of the time, Prince Xi Linxuan would not express thanks, maintaining an indifferent expression, while palace servants offered grateful smiles.
“Zhixing hasn’t come back, and no one is keeping the prince company,” Lady Wei said while gently fanning her daughter Wei Lindong, who was embroidering in her mother’s room.
“Mother, how can the prince have no one to talk to when he has so many servants around?” Wei Lindong asked.
“That child keeps people at arm’s length. If he doesn’t listen to your father’s lectures, he might not speak a word all day,” Lady Wei replied, filled with compassion.
Wei Lindong looked up at her mother and said, “Words can be dangerous. The thirteenth prince, having grown up in the palace, understands this well. He knows what to say, what not to say, and when to say it. Mother, don’t worry.”
“He’s about the same age as the Crown Prince and your brother, but he looks so different,” Lady Wei remarked, noting how those from the palace were often inscrutable.
Wei Lindong smiled and continued embroidering, saying, “How many of his peers are as innocent and childlike as my brother?”
Lady Wei gently waved her fan, feeling nostalgic. She wished her two children could have swapped genders—a delightful, pure daughter would be a true blessing.
