'Considering Yun Zhao carried this child for ten difficult months, what does it matter if he's a little ugly? He's a prince, after all. He won't need to rely on his looks to find a wife.'
He had often held Feng Ze, so now, holding his tiny little son, his movements were quite practiced.
So soft, a tiny little bundle nestled in his arms. Feng Yi's heart melted.
This little baby was completely different from that little terror, Feng Ze. He seemed so well-behaved.
The midwife watched the Emperor's actions in astonishment, then quickly lowered her head, not daring to look again.
The Emperor was holding the little prince.
This was truly a rare sight. It was customary to hold one's grandchildren, not one's own children.
Lady Ming was truly favored; even the child she bore was held in high regard by His Majesty.
Just then, Nanny Yu and the others came out. Feng Yi handed the baby to the wet nurse and went straight into the delivery room himself.
