Although he had long yearned for this kind of life, the enormous difference in status was still something Jason Clark could not accept for a while—it was simply too bizarre. The sharp-eyed Emily Clark had already noticed that he had opened his eyes and hurried over. “Your Highness is awake, are you feeling better?” Her pretty face leaned in close to his.

Having never experienced such a scene before, Jason Clark couldn’t help but feel flustered. Back in that remote mountain village, he had never encountered a girl like this—so beautiful, so poised, with a faint fragrance emanating from her that made him intoxicated. His face turned red. “Emily Clark, c-could you not stand so close to me? I-I’m not used to it,” Jason Clark stammered.

For some reason, Emily Clark felt that the Seventh Prince seemed a bit different. She couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, but the prince had always treated palace maids like her kindly, never showing such shyness. Still, Emily Clark simply attributed it to the prince’s recent recovery from a serious illness and didn’t think much more of it.

“Your Highness, may this servant help you wash up and change?” Emily Clark stepped back half a pace, but still remained close to Jason Clark. “According to protocol, today is the first day of the month, and you need to pay respects to Consort Yu at Lingbo Palace,” she reminded him. Although she really didn’t want Ethan Foster to interact with that vicious woman, if someone accused him of being unfilial, it would be troublesome. Anyway, the monthly audience was just a formality—some brief pleasantries and it was over. The consort had never invited the prince to stay for a meal or conversation; her heart was already completely occupied by the Eleventh Prince, leaving no room for her other son.

Jason Clark—no, now he should be called Ethan Foster (for convenience, he will be referred to as Ethan Foster from now on)—felt a strange excitement about this. In his original memories, for some reason, the image of this mother was very vague, even with quite a few negative impressions. Yet he always thought of the beautiful woman in his dreams. Now, thinking that he was about to meet this nominal mother, his expression was unconsciously filled with joy.

Just like last time, Emily Clark helped him with the usual washing up, then began to arrange his hair. Ethan Foster was only thirteen, far from the age for the capping ceremony, not even old enough to tie his hair up. So, as was customary, Emily Clark carefully parted his hair into two halves and tied each into a knot on top of his head, resembling two little horns.

Ethan Foster stared blankly at the unfamiliar figure in the mirror, his mind a blur. From now on, he would have to live in this place. He so hoped that life would be as wonderful as he wished, but he didn’t know what else might happen. This place originally belonged to another boy—he had only seized his position…

“Your Highness, why are you still in a daze? Let this servant help you change clothes, or it’ll be too late,” Emily Clark whispered in his ear, her breath fragrant, leaving him at a loss. He had never let anyone else dress him before; how could Ethan Foster not feel embarrassed? But Emily Clark didn’t care about any of that. With a wave of her hand, several palace maids immediately gathered around. In no time, they took off Ethan Foster’s white undergarments and brought over a set of brocade robes, dressing him personally. During this, Ethan Foster didn’t dare move at all, letting them knead and rub him as they pleased. Those soft, smooth hands brushing over his skin gave him a sensation he had never experienced before. He kept his eyes tightly shut, as if opening them would make everything vanish like mist. Never before had he felt so strongly that getting dressed could be such an enjoyment.

Finally, after changing clothes, Ethan Foster could hardly believe that the somewhat handsome youth in the mirror was himself. It was astonishing—was this why all the sons of wealthy families seemed so likable? He kept asking himself, but unfortunately, no one could give him an answer.

After hastily eating a few pastries, Emily Clark, Grace, and several close palace maids clustered around Ethan Foster as they left Fenghua Palace. If they missed the appointed time, the prince might not be blamed, but the servants would hardly escape punishment. Consort Yu’s status in the palace was second only to the empress; if they slighted her, the consequences would be unimaginable. They had barely walked a few steps when Ethan Foster saw a squad of imperial guards in the distance—their neat uniforms, cold eyes, gleaming weapons, and imposing presence were all things he had never seen before. The previous owner of this body had always been indifferent to such matters, so there were few memories of them, but Ethan Foster was quite amazed.

The vastness of the imperial palace was beyond his imagination. Along the way, they passed countless pavilions and towers, with carved railings and jade inlays exuding an air of nobility. The calligraphic plaques with dragons and phoenixes, the imposing couplets—everything proclaimed that this was the home of the emperor who ruled the world. Ethan Foster felt so small in this vast world, and couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Although no one suspected that this prince, who seemed the same as usual, was an impostor, knowing the truth himself, how could he dare to walk around the palace so recklessly? But today’s visit was unavoidable, because he was about to meet the mother he had longed for. Ethan Foster took a deep breath and forced himself to summon the courage to move forward.