Chapter 7

Huhai had been frustrated by his father and elder brother, disappearing for two whole days. But was he the kind of person to give up so easily?

Clearly not.

The newly arrived Little Imperial Sister was like a stumbling block in the smooth path of the young boy’s decade-long life. Only much later would Huhai realize—this was no mere stumbling block. It was a towering golden mountain, and the worst part was that once he ventured inside, he could never climb back out.

But at this moment, the boy didn’t see it that way. Some people, some obstacles—you had to bump into them, kick them, feel the pain yourself before you understood they were not to be trifled with.

With a sour heart, the boy thought: Father had taken the Little Imperial Sister into his own palace to raise her. It was said he even woke up in the middle of the night to feed her. It was said that even while reviewing memorials, he placed her cradle beside him, watching over her, unable to bear even a moment apart.

Huhai had never been held by his father. He had never been allowed to stay overnight in his father’s quarters—no, not even half a night.

The longest time he had spent there was when he had sneaked up on the Grand Tutor during a nap and snipped off his beard. That time, his father had scolded him. Too lazy to lecture him further, his father had simply ordered him to kneel in punishment for two hours. The boy thought bitterly—this was probably the longest he had ever stayed in his father’s palace.

And this was the treatment he received as the emperor’s most favored son! Look at his other siblings—they didn’t even warrant their father’s attention, let alone the privilege of kneeling in punishment in his palace.

The boy had once taken pride in this, boasting that he was the emperor’s most beloved son, strutting around with his nose in the air, swaggering with an arrogant gait, and no one dared to reprimand him. Inside or outside the palace, he was the unrivaled little tyrant.

But now? That detestable newborn Little Imperial Sister had stolen all of their father’s attention. When Huhai had recklessly stormed into the palace, his father had only scolded him briefly, even forgetting to punish him with kneeling or copying texts.

The boy was so sour he could barely stand it. His entire body felt restless, his young heart soaked in vinegar, then doused in oil and set aflame, burning him with agitation, fury, and unbearable restlessness.

Using what he proudly considered the second-smartest mind in the Qin Empire, Huhai came up with a plan. Since ancient times, self-pity had been the most despised trait, and his father especially hated those who whined and cried. He—of course—would never stoop so low!

Swallowing his bitterness, the boy ate two extra bowls of rice at every meal, determined to grow tall and strong, as mighty and dignified as his father. Then he would fight this Little Imperial Sister to the end!

His position as the number one tyrant of the imperial harem was not to be shaken!

Since childhood, Huhai had idolized his father. Accustomed to his father’s unyielding demeanor, he had watched as the Qin Iron Cavalry crushed the six states, conquering all with sheer military might. Huhai believed that this was how a true ruler should be—making those who displeased him tremble in fear, ensuring they dared not act arrogantly, submitting to his will and groveling at his feet.

As for the Little Imperial Sister… Huhai ignored the faint twinge of reluctance in his heart. He wouldn’t use force against her—he wasn’t a bully. He’d just… scare her a little, make her understand that in this palace, aside from their father, he, Huhai, was the one not to be crossed.

That way, once the Little Imperial Sister was afraid, she wouldn’t dare compete for their father’s affection, let alone brazenly reside in his palace.

The boy waited for the perfect opportunity—when his father was not by the Little Imperial Sister’s side. The only such moment was during the morning court session. After much deliberation, he finally seized his chance. A smug satisfaction filled him, though it was tinged with bitterness. If not for the fact that the Little Imperial Sister was too young to be taken along, their father would probably have carried her to court with him.

Since the last time the young prince had forcibly barged into the Qin Emperor’s bedchamber without any consequences, he had once again sneaked in.

How heavily guarded was the Qin Emperor’s palace? Not to mention the guards stationed at the entrance, even the patrolling sword-bearing sentries were replaced in shifts. The young boy had no choice but to seek help from his most indulgent Uncle Gao.

Zhao Gao frowned. “If His Majesty finds out…”

Huhai clung to his arm, shaking it back and forth. The boy was a master at wheedling, pleading in a low voice before quickly promising, “Father won’t find out. Even if he sees me, I won’t say Uncle Gao let me in.”

“Besides, Father won’t be back anytime soon. He just left for morning court and won’t return for at least another hour. Didn’t you say Father has been busy with affairs recently? Surely he won’t come back so soon.”

Zhao Gao hesitated for a long while, pretending to be troubled. As he lowered his head, a glint flashed in his eyes, but when he looked up again, he affectionately patted the boy’s head and said, “Alright, Uncle Gao can never resist you like this.”

The boy was overjoyed, repeatedly saying Uncle Gao was the best.

Thus, the boy disguised himself as a young eunuch and blended in with a group of cleaning eunuchs entering the palace to sweep. With others covering for him, he successfully slipped past the guards.

Once inside, he broke away from the group and quietly made his way into the inner chambers.

He had heard… his Little Imperial Sister slept beside the Emperor’s Dragon Bed.

Infants slept often and couldn’t tolerate noise, so apart from the wet nurse and maids stationed outside the door, the inner chamber was completely empty. The boy tiptoed in quietly.

This was his first time entering the place where his father slept. He could almost smell the overpowering scent of Dragon Saliva Incense that clung to his father. Huhai felt an inexplicable twinge of guilt and timidity, but after a moment’s thought, he steeled himself, clenched his fists, and thought, Huhai cannot lose!

He had come this far—he couldn’t let all his efforts go to waste. While his father was still away, he would steal his Little Imperial Sister out, teach her a lesson, and then secretly return her without anyone noticing.

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became.

Soon, he reached the Dragon Bed.

Beside it stood a small cradle. Huhai smirked triumphantly—this must be the little basket where his Little Imperial Sister slept. Tsk, how tiny. Compared to the spacious wooden bed in his own palace, he felt a strange sense of superiority.

Huhai approached the cradle and lifted the cover to peek inside. His face froze.

There was nothing inside—it was empty. Where was his Little Imperial Sister?

For a moment, Huhai was bewildered, but he quickly snapped out of it and stared at the Dragon Bed not far away. He swallowed hard. His father’s bed… he would just lift the curtain and take a look. Just a look, and then he would leave immediately. He had no intention of disrespecting his father!

Thus, the boy cautiously approached the Dragon Bed. It took him a long while to muster the courage, but finally, with trembling hands, he lifted the silk canopy of the bed.

On the spacious, sturdy Dragon Bed, there was indeed a small lump.

The milk dumpling was sprawled on her back, fast asleep. Her fair, chubby little face looked utterly innocent in slumber, with her rosy little mouth and tiny nose. The only prominent feature was probably her large, round eyes—bright and clear as black and white pearls.

But alas, they were closed now. Her long, curled lashes were as delicate and beautiful as butterfly wings.

Huhai thought, She looks nothing like Father at all! What part of her resembles him? Father isn’t this pale, nor this cute, and definitely not this milky and soft. She doesn’t look the least bit majestic.

Huhai was certain he hadn’t looked like this as a baby. He must have taken after Father.

The boy watched for a long time before finally unable to resist reaching out to pinch the little dumpling’s chubby cheeks. The soft, plump flesh felt delightful under his fingers.

Pursing his lips, the boy mischievously added a bit more force, tugging outward as if addicted to the act. After two pulls, he noticed his Little Imperial Sister’s brows furrowing with a faint whimper, causing him to immediately release his grip.

He still needed to sneak his Little Imperial Sister out, after all. He couldn’t risk waking her now—if she started crying and drew the attention of palace attendants or those terrifying sword-bearing guards, death wouldn’t be far off for him.

Reluctantly letting go, the boy couldn’t resist gently stroking the slightly reddened mark left behind. Sisters were different—their cheeks were so much softer to pinch than those of his brothers.

After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the boy had a plump little bundle wrapped snugly in a woolen blanket tucked against his chest. Moving stealthily, he slipped out of the chamber.

Zhao Gao stood before the palace hall, watching as the cleaning cart was wheeled away. Piled high on the cart were two large round barrels containing the Qin Emperor’s laundered garments and some dismantled curtains due for washing.

Huhai had timed it perfectly—coinciding with the monthly cleaning.

Zhao Gao gazed at the two barrels with a meaningful smile.

Children would be children—mischief could always be corrected with proper guidance. Since the young prince was so endearing, he would continue to indulge him.

Huhai, having successfully smuggled out his Little Imperial Sister, found himself momentarily stunned as he looked down at her peaceful sleeping face.

Had he really… stolen his imperial sister?

Then, displeasure wrinkled his brow. Wasn’t this imperial sister sleeping too soundly? What if she were stolen by actual villains? Wouldn’t Father Emperor be heartbroken if his favorite were taken?

The moment this thought surfaced, he violently shook his head—no, that wouldn’t happen!

Wait—why was he even thinking this? Right now, he was the one who had stolen her. He was the villain here.

Yet now that he had taken her, the boy felt somewhat lost.

He had bullied siblings older, younger, or his own age—classmates, ministers’ sons—but never an infant barely out of the womb.

How should he proceed?

The boy was at a loss.

Maybe… pinch her cheeks again? Give them a harder squeeze?

The Little Dragon Cub finally awoke—not naturally, but from pain. Having her face tugged this way and that without restraint was hardly comfortable.

Lying on Father Emperor’s Dragon Bed held extraordinary significance for the Little Dragon Cub.

Long ago in the divine dragon clan, hatchlings would remain nestled beneath their parents within their eggs until breaking free. After emerging, they would stay close to their parents, dwelling in the den that carried their scent—this ensured their safety in infancy, for no creature in heaven or earth rivaled the might of their kind. Mortals, demons, and immortals alike would recoil from the overwhelming dragon scent marking the hatchlings, knowing any harm brought upon them would invite the clan’s relentless vengeance. Strike the young, and the elders would come—such was the dragons’ notorious protectiveness and long memory.

Even now, with gods in decline and only the Little Dragon Cub and her Dragon Father remaining, the instinctive attachment to her parent ran deep in her blood. The security he provided far surpassed what human children could ever comprehend.

Thus, the Little Dragon Cub slept soundly on the Dragon Bed steeped in her father’s scent. After all, her multiple journeys through time to find him had taken a slight toll on her newly hatched vitality—she needed proper rest to recover.

She had completely relaxed into sleep, never imagining that upon waking, she would open her eyes to find her face being pinched, staring directly into the wide, bell-like eyes of a young boy.

The Little Dragon Cub was dazed for a moment, blinking before regaining her senses. The pain made her whimper, her eyes reddening from the discomfort.

The human child’s body was indeed too fragile, the Little Dragon Cub thought to herself. It was nothing compared to her true form—had she been in her dragon body, she would have flicked her tail and struck this wretched human.

As the milk dumpling opened her eyes, the boy froze in shock. He was no stranger to mischief and felt no guilt over it, but something about the way his Little Imperial Sister gazed at him with those clear, innocent eyes stirred an unexpected pang of guilt.

Remembering their supposed “enemy” status, the boy raised his voice, attempting to intimidate his imperial sister.

“Father isn’t here now. You’ve fallen into my hands, haven’t you?”

“Aren’t you scared, Little Imperial Sister?”

“Tsk tsk, you can’t even speak yet. You can’t even tattle on me!”

“Listen well—I’m your elder brother, Huhai. You must respect your elders and never compete with me for Father’s attention, understand?”

The boy rambled on, growing more animated as he spoke, eventually loosening his grip on her face. “Once you learn to talk, tell Father you want to move out. You’re not allowed to stay in his palace.”

“Your other sisters have always been obedient. You should learn from them.”

The Little Dragon Cub blinked, listening for a long while before finally processing his words.

Leave Father? Not allowed to compete for Father’s affection?

She was stunned, staring at the boy in disbelief, even forgetting the pain in her face. Was this human serious?

Strictly speaking, Father was hers alone. The children the emperor sired among humans were less his offspring and more his obligations.

Their lives would pass in the blink of an eye, but Father would eventually return to the heavens, to their dragon palace—where only she and Father belonged, with no one else.

And yet, this human had the audacity to accuse her of stealing his father?

The Little Dragon Cub felt a surge of indignation. She had traveled through time many times and witnessed countless of Father’s human children. Huhai was no stranger to her—he was a very, very wicked child, the one who had undone Father’s achievements.

Not only had he caused Father immense trouble, but he had also brought calamity upon humanity, stirring unnecessary conflicts across the land.

In the end, it was he who had stolen her father. She was Dragon Father’s one and only true child!

Once again, the Little Dragon Cub affirmed Huhai’s shamelessness in her heart, tilting her little head away and ignoring him while silently calculating when Father would return from court.

Father would surely come for her once he realized she was missing.

There it was again—that infuriating sense of being looked down upon. Huhai felt it keenly.

Even though his little imperial sister couldn’t speak and had done nothing but stare at him with wide eyes, he was certain she was secretly mocking him in her mind.

Unwilling to let it go, the boy reached out again, pinching and tugging at the Little Dragon Cub’s cheek. “I’m talking to you. Are you listening?”

He leaned in, his tone turning menacing. “No one can take my place in Father’s heart—not even the eldest brother. Do you hear me?”

The boy hesitated, unsure. Wasn’t that what Uncle Gao had said? After all, even the eldest brother wasn’t as favored by Father as he was.

The Little Dragon Cub finally looked at him properly. She strained to stretch her small head forward, wanting the boy to release her face. The body of a human child was so fragile—she still had to grow up properly and protect her Dragon Father, safeguard the Great Qin Empire. How could she let some bad brother ruin it?

A tug-of-war ensued—one trying to escape, the other unwilling to let go. Her cheeks were pulled tighter and tighter, hurting more and more. The boy was rough and careless, not knowing his own strength. The Little Dragon Cub was sure her cheeks must have been torn off.

Her eyes reddened. Thinking of her current defenseless body, sorrow welled up inside her, and with a loud “wah,” she burst into tears.

Father is so mean! He had to go and have a bad son to bully her!

Once the floodgates opened, there was no stopping the tears. The more the Little Dragon Cub thought about it, the sadder she became. She remembered how Father had left her alone in the upper realm, not even waiting for her to hatch. She recalled the exhausting, stumbling journeys she had made across realms, expending all her magic. And now, Father had so many children—he must have forgotten all about her. Her little Dragon Heart was overwhelmed with grievance.

Her cries grew louder and louder.

The boy froze, flustered at the sight of his wailing Little Imperial Sister.

When he finally let go, he saw red marks on both sides of her face—swollen, even.

Instantly, regret washed over him.

He should have been gentler.

What now? Was it too late to send her back?

Meanwhile, the Qin Emperor was in court. Seated lazily on his high throne, his expression was inscrutable, giving no hint of his thoughts.

Below, civil officials and military generals were locked in a heated debate over whether to increase military provisions. One faction argued for recuperation and stockpiling resources, while the other insisted that the Great Qin’s military strength must not lose its edge. The argument raged on.

Absentmindedly, the Qin Emperor traced the dragon patterns on his armrest. Though he appeared to be listening, his mind wandered—watching a bunch of grown men and old scholars argue was far less enjoyable than watching a little chick sleep.

Suddenly, the sky darkened. Thunder rumbled repeatedly, and in the blink of an eye, a downpour began.

A minister glanced outside and muttered in confusion, “How did it start raining all of a sudden? It was sunny just now.”

“These past few days have been strange. The other day, it rained out of nowhere too. I got drenched on my way to the office.”

“And the other night as well. Madam said all the clothes left outside got soaked.”

The words were spoken casually, but the listener took them to heart.

The man on the dragon throne straightened slightly, his mind sharpening. Last time the Little Chick cried in fear, wasn’t the weather like this too?

And the time before that—he suddenly recalled—when the Little Chick was forcibly taken away by the wet nurse, it had rained outside. Zhao Gao had mentioned the rain, and he had dismissively joked, “Didn’t you collect your clothes?”

Now that he thought about it, there was an odd coincidence. An inexplicable irritation rose within him.

In one ear, the ministers bickered endlessly. In the other, the rain fell harder and faster.

Abruptly, he stood and strode out.

The courtiers called after him in astonishment, “Your Majesty, the court session isn’t over yet!”

Without turning back, his voice carried, “Enough squabbling. We’ll continue another day.”

The civil and military officials: “…”