In that instant, Ethan Foster felt as if he had truly become the Seventh Prince. It was simply wonderful—no more pressures of life, no more worries about losing loved ones. Everything before his eyes was, without a doubt, incomparably beautiful to him. He knew that as long as he continued on this path, he would forever enjoy the honor and glory of royalty. Although there was still a trace of guilt in his heart, he understood that what had already happened could not be reversed. At this moment, even if he were to confess everything, probably no one would believe him, because even those closest to him had not the slightest suspicion.

A palace maid hurried over to Sarah, whispered a few words, and the once gentle and affectionate Sarah instantly reverted to her usual self. “Your Highness, please feel free to walk around here. This servant will take her leave.” With that, she bowed and turned to go. The young Ethan Foster had no idea what had caused Aunt Ping to suddenly change so drastically. He stared blankly at her departing figure, only now realizing how unfamiliar he was with this strange place.

Relying on his status as a prince, Ethan Foster could move about almost anywhere in Lingbo Palace without hindrance, except for one place where he was rudely stopped and had to retreat awkwardly. Staring at the plaque that read “Tingfeng Pavilion,” Ethan Foster felt a strange sensation, as if the person inside would bring great changes to his future. After hesitating for a moment, he left, but he firmly remembered the name of this place.

The feeling of being ignored was always unpleasant. Ethan Foster returned to the vicinity of the main hall, but did not enter immediately. Consort Yu and Sarah were inside talking, and all unrelated palace maids and eunuchs had long been dismissed, even the guards at the door had been sent far away. This made it easy for Ethan Foster to sneak in unnoticed. He tiptoed into a dimly lit room nearby. He had no idea that he had entered the very place where Emily Clark and Grace had just been punished, where the two poor girls had suffered cruel beatings and humiliation. He was simply acting on a child’s curiosity, wanting to eavesdrop on the adults’ conversation.

“Sarah, really, why did you waste so much time with that useless one?” Consort Yu’s voice drifted over, hazy and indistinct. Ethan Foster had no idea who the “useless one” referred to.

“Your Ladyship, this servant was only following your instructions!” Sarah’s faint voice came through. “You know as well as I do, as a servant, I can’t go too far.”

“You’re too cautious,” Ethan Foster could almost picture his mother’s indifferent expression, and was startled, “I’ve told you many times, I will always have only one son. The other is just a tool, a tool to solidify my position! He deserves no pity, only to be used. As long as that chess piece can still serve its purpose, do your best to attract the Emperor’s attention. That is his only reason for existing.”

For some reason, Ethan Foster felt a chill run through his whole body. Although he didn’t know exactly who they were talking about, a sense of foreboding welled up in his heart. The words were too strange. He kept telling himself to stay calm, but it was useless—his trembling hands and feet betrayed him. Was it his brother or himself they were talking about? He had to find out.

“Your Ladyship, this servant thinks the Seventh Prince is also very pitiful.” Even though she knew it might anger her mistress, Sarah still mustered the courage to interject. She could not forget what had just happened.

“He’s pitiful?” Consort Yu said with contempt, “What’s so pitiful about a good-for-nothing? I, as his mother, am the one who’s truly pitiful!”

These words struck Ethan Foster like a bolt from the blue. Although he had some premonition before, he never dreamed that a mother would describe her own child this way. A familiar, searing pain flared up in his heart once more. In that instant, he understood why, on that night when he received Ethan Foster’s memories, he had felt so much anguish and sorrow. A mother as beautiful as a fairy, yet she regarded her own son as worthless—what could be more heartbreaking than that?

Ethan Foster tried desperately to remind himself: I am not her son, I don’t need to be hurt by her words, I am not her son… But his heart betrayed everything. From the moment he entered this dream, he had regarded this beautiful woman as his mother and loved her as such. For a thirteen-year-old boy, this blow was simply too heavy. Yet, it was not over.

“If I remember correctly, that lotus seed porridge has been delivered for three years now, hasn’t it?” Consort Yu said coolly. “Thanks to it, that useless one has spent most of his time lying in bed, struggling to survive, and none of those useless imperial doctors dared to go against me. So what if they know it’s poisoned? Who would dare offend the Emperor’s favorite consort? Who would care about the son the Emperor cares least about? Besides, I am still that useless one’s biological mother!” At this point, Consort Yu almost laughed hysterically. “How many years has it been? I’ve planned this for so many years. As long as the Emperor remembers who caused me to give birth to such a sickly son, he will always feel a bit more pity for the Eleventh Prince, and my other child will have a greater chance at the throne. As long as that child remains bedridden, there’s more hope. I will never allow anyone to ruin this!”