Alright. It was cute. I took about a month off from the series in between volume 3 and volume 4, and I think this actually helped refresh my reading experience for the story as a whole. Compared to the previous volume, this one didn't drag nearly as much—volume 3's pacing felt very slow at times, mostly due to the heavy focus on the "cutesieness" of the four babies (which got old pretty quickly for me). When plot advancement did happen, it was often displaced by those wholesome family scenes, which slowed the pacing even more and made plot development seem unattached or distant from the rest of the novel. But in this volume, most of the complaints I had from the previous were resolved. The pacing felt brisk, but not rushed, the cute family moments weren't over-emphasized and seemed well-placed in between larger plot-heavy arcs, and the final villains lurking in the background were brought to the surface and dealt with. Even with mpreg (which isn't a trope I typically go for), I still found the family moments enjoyable and the relationship development between Li Yu and Prince Jing healthy and wholesome. However, there was a bit of imbalance between the story's weight on the four baby boys and the single baby girl—it seemed she was born and then quickly tossed into the background for the remainder of the novel. Lots of personality development for the four boys over the course of several volumes, but there's comparatively little mention of the daughter as she takes a backseat to larger plot events that the author explored outside of their happy little domestic sphere. But the story must go on, and unfortunately, the new baby couldn't just get up and walk around with our protagonists everywhere they go.
Personally, I had a hard time following some of the characters' motives throughout the story, particularly any of the characters who had beef with the emperor or the servants from Prince Jing's young young past. It felt like Loulan's revenge on the emperor came out of left field, and perhaps that's just me forgetting mentions of this plotline from previous volumes, but it's introduced as though it's new information in this volume. I don't expect plot-heavy, high-stakes drama from this series as it's meant to be a lower-stakes plot with heavier emphasis on the comedy and romance, but it does make plot-related events feel random and abrupt.
**SPOILERS: The emperor and imperial family is held hostage, one of the princes dies, and a huge subplot is finally uncovered with the Loulan kingdom's long-held grudge against the imperial family, but it's resolved quite effortlessly...and a bit violently. The sixth prince, arguably the biggest thorn in everyone's side since the beginning of the novel, is killed quite suddenly and with no one to bat an eye about it.
"Nobody expected Consort Zhang to kill her own son. Everyone watching sensed the danger present and shuddered in fear. The emperor couldn't believe it.... [he] looked back at her with a fierce glare." (pp. 180-181)
And thus ends the largest villain of the story. Shot down by an arrow with no family to mourn him, killed by his own mother. On the one hand, I think it's what he deserves as he was trying to bring down Prince Jing and the others the entire time, but on the other hand, I feel some empathy for a character whose own mother and father couldn't be bothered to shed a tear over his death. This moment marks one of several throughout the series that had so much gravity, but was dealt with or resolved with too much levity.
In this same vein, Chu Yanyu's storyline came to a melancholic ending. He gives his last hurrah, an attempt to sway Prince Jing in his favor to bolster his own status in the court by exposing Li Yu as the man-fish/fish-man he really is. His attempt flops, however, as of course our protagonist Li Yu will always win, and Chu Yanyu is swiftly dealt a punishment deserving of his crime. Excruciating physical beating which leaves him permanently disabled and banishment as a commoner to the cold palace where he's robbed, dowsed in dog's blood, and ostracized for the remainder of his lonely life. As Li Yu cold-heartedly puts it: "Chu Yanyu should have just stayed where he belonged!" (p. 308) This part of the story will stick with me for a long time. I have a soft spot for the vindictive-concubine/sex worker archetype in most stories as their vindication is usually a result of abandonment and neglect trauma, and Chu Yanyu's lifetime of being used, cast aside, betrayed, and unloved left me achingly sympathetic to his plight and angry at Li Yu's flippant justification of "what goes around comes around" (p. 308). Chu Yanyu's over-the-top punishment was meant to be a light-hearted, humorous moment, I'm sure, but the author dug his metaphorical grave a little too deep in this case. It actually made me dislike Li Yu a little more.
Another plot point that made me dubious of Li Yu's character (and my overall ability to like him as a protagonist) was his ventures into women's rights...This was a strange plot twist. It made sense for Li Yu's (purportedly) sympathetic personality to want to help the sixth prince's widow get her feet back under her and regain some status and semblance of respect after her husband's betrayal, but he goes even further—expanding this sudden burst of philanthropy to establishing a whole widow's liberation/women's rights movement in ancient China. This felt like the author's attempts to promote women's rights and portray Li Yu as progressive and feminist BUT after the Chu Yanyu ordeal, I have a hard time viewing Li Yu as a grounded, humanistic type and more of a flippant, go-with-the-flow, whimsical type. (And in Chu Yanyu's case, dare I say Li Yu is...petty?) Li Yu reflects heavily on how he just wants to help even one person, if only he can make a small change in this world he's now adopted as his own, then he'll feel like he's done something meaningful with his life.
I guess this is all just to say that Li Yu's depth and morality is a bit questionable. I had similar thoughts about the duality of Prince Jing's character earlier on in the series. Li Yu's initial impression of him as the cruel, violent tyrant is at odds with the prince's inner capacity for gentleness and doting on the ones he loves. This duality should work to provide a character with depth and realism, but for some reason it came across as underdevelopment. Not a huge deal, as, again, this isn't meant to be an especially thought-provoking or heavy series, but as a character-driven reader, feeling disconnected from characters does affect my ability to fully immerse in the world.
My biggest "complaint" about the series is that it bridges a confusing gap between a heavier, plot-driven palace drama and a light-hearted system-shenanigans comedy. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it did make the two elements of the novel feel like just that—two distinct plots that sometimes didn't mesh together into one.
Does it all wrap up well in the end? Yes. The ending fit the series very well—it was quick, but not rushed, light, but not negligent of the readers' need for a sense of all's well that ends well. The brief modern-day chapter where Prince Jing gets to experience Li Yu's fish-scamming system for himself was fun and felt like a good book-ender to match the very beginning of the series. You can't get more wholesome than a book about a man getting turned into a fish ending with him finding a family that can turn into fish with him.