VHBF – Chapter 39 Emperor Daddy (Part 16)

Yinyin didn’t know the situation about that “bad uncle,” and naturally, no one would tell a three-year-old child something so complicated. Even the system didn’t want to fill her tiny brain, with its already limited capacity, with such filthy, messy matters.

After keeping watch over her Imperial Father for a few days and not seeing that bad uncle, Yinyin finally felt relieved.

She had really been working hard these past few days. Every morning before dawn she would insist on going with her father to court, because she’d heard that the bad uncle was also there. Court was at mao hour, then lessons followed at chen hour—at just three years old, Yinyin was so busy she was run ragged, worrying herself sick.

Seeing the little princess always nodding off in class, Boyuan, who knew the inside story, found it funny. How could such a small child be such a worrier? But when he thought of that man in the Imperial Study, he couldn’t help feeling a little envious. Why hadn’t he picked up such a good daughter?

That day outside the palace, Wei Jue had even looked disdainful? If Boyuan had known earlier, he would have taken her home to raise himself! Now he was beating his chest in regret!

But Grand Academician Zhou Yi didn’t know any of this. He was an upright and old-fashioned man, usually cloistered in the Hanlin Academy, ignoring worldly affairs and devoting himself solely to his studies. After a few days of teaching, he found that the little princess always fell asleep in class, her little head bobbing again and again, and he couldn’t help shaking his head.

Even though she was the emperor’s beloved pearl, this rigid and serious scholar still couldn’t hold back from scolding her twice. Seeing the little girl’s round face turn red as she apologized guiltily, promising it wouldn’t happen again, Zhou Yi let it go lightly.

Who could have thought the very next day and the day after that, she would still be dozing off? Zhou Yi’s short beard practically bristled with anger. In his heart he thought, “Yes, she’s only three, but what one is at three lasts a lifetime! If she dislikes studying now, what’s the point of enlightenment lessons at all? She might as well just sleep all day in the palace!”

The other little children in the class looked over worriedly. The princess had been asleep for quite a while now, and Master Zhou was standing right in front of her desk, his stern face truly frightening.

Because she was the youngest and the shortest, she had been arranged to sit right in the very front and center. After all, this schoolroom was set up for her, so naturally everything revolved around the little princess.

But the little mistress herself didn’t like studying, sleeping away every day—how could that be acceptable?

Oddly enough, Yinyin only napped in the mornings. Once she had slept enough, she was wide awake in the afternoon classes, listening with great seriousness, her big round eyes fixed intently on the teacher, full of curiosity. Her recitations were louder than anyone’s. Compared to the mornings, she was like a different person.

Because of their different duties, Zhou Yi usually taught in the mornings. Boyuan, on the other hand, was the Right Chancellor. Apart from attending early court, he still had to deal with government affairs at the ministry, far less leisurely than the Hanlin Academy. So he only came into the palace in the afternoons to give lessons.

Thus, Zhou Yi rarely saw the little princess’s earnest side. Even when he caught a glimpse once or twice, he didn’t think much of it, just attributing it to a child’s fickleness.

Most of the time, in his eyes, the three-year-old princess was simply a lazy child who loved to sleep, disliked studying, and was spoiled.

If she had any good points, they were that she was cute and pretty, and that her attitude toward admitting fault was very good. Each time she looked up at him with those pitiful, sincere eyes and promised to do better, his anger would dissipate by more than half.

That was why Zhou Yi hadn’t tattled to the emperor the first two times. Now, standing beside her, looking at the creases her chubby little face had left on the desk from sleeping, he felt both exasperated and amused.

After thinking it over, he decided not to wake her. Otherwise, once the little princess acted spoiled, he was afraid he’d fall for it again!

Instead, Zhou Yi resolved to report to the emperor right now—let His Majesty catch her red-handed! That way the emperor wouldn’t think he was bullying his daughter.

No sooner thought than done. The children in the classroom grew nervous, watching the teacher stand beside the sleeping princess, afraid he’d get angry and smack her palm. But to their surprise, Master Zhou seemed to have gone foolish with anger: he stood there a long time, neither waking her nor punishing her.

Then, as they watched, he walked to the doorway. A ten-year-old page boy came running over. Master Zhou gave him some instructions, and the page boy cast a troubled glance into the classroom—as if at the princess?

Moments later, the page trotted away. The children in the room suddenly had a bad feeling. They remembered what Teacher Bo had told them on their first day: if they didn’t study seriously, he’d report them to the emperor.

So was Teacher Zhou also tattling?

The children were instantly furious. After a few days together, the little princess had proven to be not only adorable but also generous—every time the imperial kitchens made some treat or cake, she shared it with them. She was even better than they had imagined, and had become their most precious companion.

The young children valued loyalty. Seeing that Teacher Zhou hadn’t returned yet and had likely gone to relieve himself, they huddled together to plot.

The emperor was terrifying. All the children of Chang’an grew up hearing stories of him. In their minds, the emperor was like a great fierce beast, the kind that could stop a baby’s cries at night.

One glare from him, and they’d all wet their pants.

Though it was true the princess wasn’t afraid of him and seemed very close to him, their parents had said: serving a ruler is like serving a tiger. Who knew when he might suddenly turn hostile?

If he heard that the princess had misbehaved—sleeping in class, caught by the teacher—and felt that as a father he was being shamed, what if he decided to punish her?

They had heard that the princess was picked up outside the palace, not his biological child. That didn’t sound like a very solid relationship!

Fang Tang, quick-witted and gossipy from growing up among gossiping aunties, frowned, fat hand propping his chin, full of worry: “I once heard of a family in Chang’an, Lane Eight, Jingyi Alley. They had no children, and the doctor said neither husband nor wife could have kids. They adopted a son. But a couple of years later, they actually conceived and had a biological son…”

The children’s eyes went wide with curiosity. They hurriedly asked, “And then? Did they end up happily with two sons?”

Fang Tang shook his head, hands clasped behind his back, his tender chubby face trying to look grave. Adults would surely find it comical, but to his fellow children it was deadly serious. They stared at him, dreading the ending.

Fang Tang said, “After the real son was born, the adopted one wasn’t valued anymore. He was beaten and scolded all the time. Every day before dawn he had to get up to do chores, never had enough to eat, living worse than a beggar. At least beggars aren’t bossed around like slaves, running themselves ragged. Even oxen had it better than him!”

He counted off the poor child’s tragic fates on his fingers and concluded heavily: “That’s why ties without blood are unreliable.”

The children grew even more worried. Scholar child Cheng Li, more thoughtful and farsighted, said: “We must hide the princess’s napping. She’s not His Majesty’s real daughter to begin with. If she embarrasses him and he thinks she’s disobedient, what if he starts treating her badly?”

The words brought Fang Tang’s story to life in their minds: all the tragic things that had happened to that adopted child seemed to fall onto the little princess instead.

They imagined her tiny figure forced to wake before dawn to fetch water, feed chickens and ducks, washing the family’s laundry in freezing water during winter, growing thin and frail, never able to grow tall…

The children clutched at their hearts, shattered glass hearts breaking to pieces—too heartbreaking!

Black Child’s eyes welled up with tears. Panicked, he asked his brothers what to do.

But his dark, scrawny, ridiculously ugly face twisted with tears was truly painful to look at. Even though they’d all become close friends these days, none could bear it—they turned their heads away from Yu Shushu.

Since the princess was asleep, they didn’t want to wake her. They spoke carefully, crouched in the farthest corner of the study, whispering.

Jiang Cao lowered his voice: “Why—why don’t I talk to my grandfather? If the emperor treats her badly, wants to drive her out, I can take her home and make her my sister. Anyway, I don’t have a sister!”

He even looked quite happy at the idea. The more he thought, the better it seemed. The princess was so cute and soft, his parents would surely love her too. He could even show her off to the boys of Chang’an: she’s my sister!

The thought made Jiang Cao drift off into blissful daydreams, chin propped, smiling stupidly. Cao Lian rolled his eyes. “As if! Better she comes to my house. We have thousands of mu of ancestral farmland—more than enough to raise her. Do you?”

Jiang Cao: “…”

His family had only just risen through the imperial exams in his grandfather’s generation. Upright and clean, they hadn’t grown rich from corruption. They barely lived off official stipends and imperial gifts during festivals, not even able to afford many servants…

Cao Lian’s display of old-family wealth cut him deeply.

Scholar Cheng Li, more stable, proposed: “The urgent thing now is to stop this. The page boy is most likely on his way to tattle. I saw him heading toward the Imperial Study.”

The Imperial Study wasn’t far from the schoolroom—if he walked quickly, he’d arrive within a quarter of an hour.

Hearing this, the others glared at Cheng Li. Why hadn’t he said so sooner?

Cheng Li spread his hands helplessly. Fang Tang’s scary story had them all too enthralled to remember!

Since the teacher was still away, the children quickly made a decision: skip class!

They had to hurry and intercept that page boy, threaten him, make him promise not to tattle!

So off they went, sneaking glances to be sure the teacher hadn’t returned, then dashing out of the classroom.

As for the sleeping little princess? Not to worry—Master Zhou wouldn’t dare really punish her anyway!

The children were only three to five years old. Even running with all their might, their stubby legs couldn’t catch up to a ten-year-old boy. Panting and sweating, they finally spotted the page boy’s back at the doors of the Imperial Study.

But just then, the page was ushered in by a little eunuch, one foot already inside, leaving only his back visible.

The children, who had never run so hard in their lives, froze in dismay. They stretched out their hands instinctively, but they were empty.

Looking at each other, they felt a wave of sorrow. They had tried so hard, but still failed. If only they hadn’t been distracted by Fang Tang’s story, they might have stopped him in time. Now they felt crushed with guilt—they had let the little princess down!

Inside the Imperial Study, the page boy couldn’t help rubbing his arms, feeling a chill and a bad premonition.

Could it be that tattling about the princess would anger the emperor?

Recalling his master’s words, the boy steeled his face, ready to die if needed. “If I don’t go to hell, who will?”

And with that thought, he stepped into the study.