But there was no child like that...
The next day.
Prince Cheng's Residence was extraordinarily lively.
Early that morning, visitors arrived in an endless stream, their carriages and horses stretching two streets from the gates.
The hundred personal guards Emperor Qing had newly assigned to Zhou Cheng had all been brought out to maintain order, each standing ramrod straight, eyes fixed ahead.
Zhou Cheng stood at the entrance to the main hall, a practiced smile on his face as he dealt with wave after wave of guests arriving to congratulate him.
Though inwardly he wished he could kick every last one of them out, one kick apiece, he still had to keep smiling, exchanging pleasantries, cupping his hands, offering thanks, and seeing guests off, repeating the whole routine over and over.
At noon, Prince Cheng's Residence hosted a banquet.
Cups crossed amid boisterous laughter and conversation, as lively as New Year's celebrations.
Only after he had finally endured until the afternoon did the crowd gradually begin to thin.
While Zhou Cheng was busy, the women of the household had not been idle either.
Sang Wen stood beneath the covered walkway in the Rear Courtyard, looking utterly listless and miserable as she surveyed the mountain of gifts before her.
Brocade boxes of every kind, silks, porcelain, antiques... they stretched from one end of the corridor to the other, piled higher than a person.
Si Lili helped beside her, holding a ledger densely packed with names, official positions, and records of gifts.
"Who sent this?" Sang Wen asked, pointing at an inconspicuous box in the corner.
Si Lili flipped through the ledger. "Investigating Censor Zhang Qian. An inkstone from Duan."
Sang Wen nodded, stuck a label on the box, and moved it to its designated spot.
She straightened, rubbed her aching