Chapter 9

No sooner had he shouted than a large hand grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up along with the child in his arms. Huhai nearly suffocated but clung tightly to his Little Imperial Sister, not daring to let go. If he dropped her in front of the Qin Emperor, his fate would be even worse.  

Never had Huhai felt more awake than at this moment.  

His hands trembled, his lips quivered, and he couldn’t utter a word. Fortunately, he was set down the next moment, and the weight in his arms vanished—his Little Imperial Sister had been taken away. Huhai looked up and saw the tension in his father’s expression. It wasn’t that the emperor had softened toward him; it was that the emperor feared Huhai might drop her in his shaky state.  

With this realization, Huhai felt even worse—first, the panic of being caught by his father, and second, the bitter thought that the emperor clearly loved his Little Imperial Sister more.  

The guards watched in amazement as the little princess, who had been wailing inconsolably moments ago, quieted the instant she was in the emperor’s arms. Only the occasional sniffles remained, her soft, whimpering voice tugging at everyone’s heartstrings.  

They couldn’t help but think: Young Master Huhai was far too bold, daring to sneak the little princess out like this. No one in the empire would dare—perhaps only a spoiled, reckless young prince like him, too naive to understand the consequences.  

But he might not dare again.  

Just look at the terrifying expression on the emperor’s face. Even they, seasoned warriors who wielded blades, felt fear, let alone a pampered ten-year-old boy.  

The man looked down at the child in his arms. The outer blanket used for concealment was already soaked through, but the little one’s clothes beneath were still dry. He removed the wet blanket and casually extended a hand, where a quick-witted maid promptly handed over a fresh, small woolen blanket.  

Wrapped snugly in the warm little blanket, the Little Chick was now thoroughly bundled. Only then did the Qin Emperor seem satisfied. He reached out to soothe the child’s face, but his hand froze when he saw the faint redness and swelling.  

Had she been pinched? Squeezed?  

Without hesitation, the man turned to his troublesome son. “You did this?”  

The boy was unusually sharp in this moment. Even without explicit words, he instantly understood what his father meant. He immediately dropped to his knees, clutching the emperor’s leg as he confessed, “S-Son didn’t mean to…”  

Huhai wanted to cry. His father’s gaze was too terrifying. For a moment, he even wondered—if he weren’t the emperor’s son, he might have been beheaded on the spot. Or perhaps not even granted such a swift death. Huhai was well aware of the Qin dynasty’s punishments, like dismemberment by five horses.  

Snot and tears streaming down his face, the boy sobbed, “Father, I know I was wrong! Huhai really didn’t mean to! I—I didn’t know Little Imperial Sister’s face was so tender, just a little pinch and it turned red…”  

His words tumbled out incoherently. The man snorted coldly, then kicked him away with a long leg. “Follow.”  

Outside, the rain had lightened but remained damp and chilly. Worried the fragile Little Chick might catch cold, the Qin Emperor initially planned to tuck her into his large cape. But when he felt the water dripping from it, he swiftly removed the soaked garment.  

A quick-thinking maid stepped forward with a fresh cape, draping it over the emperor’s shoulders.  

The Qin Emperor nestled the Little Dragon Cub against his warm chest, then bundled her securely within the dry cape, acting as a human furnace to ensure she wouldn’t feel the cold or the rain when they stepped outside.  

Exhausted from crying, the Little Dragon Cub now only let out occasional hiccup-like whimpers. Up close, the Qin Emperor could hear the Little Chick muttering—she was scolding him.

“Bad Daddy, bad Daddy!” she muttered, accusing him of siring a bad brother to bully her, of failing to protect her, of not coming to rescue her sooner—in short, he was just a bad Daddy.  

At this stage, the Little Dragon Cub’s language skills weren’t fully developed yet, so her vocabulary was limited. She just kept repeating in her heart: *Bad Daddy, bad, bad, bad!*  

Her childish, aggrieved complaints were so pitiful that the Qin Emperor didn’t know whether to be angry or amused. His earlier fury at not being able to find her had now turned into helplessness. He poked her forehead beneath the cape and said in a low voice, “No matter how bad your father is, he’s still your father.”  

Without sparing a glance at the others, he carried the child away. Madam Yu knelt on the ground, staring blankly at the man’s retreating figure with the child in his arms. Her foolish son scrambled after them, stumbling and crawling in his haste.  

Madam Yu felt dizzy. She randomly pointed at a palace maid. “You, follow them. Stay discreet and see how the young prince is doing.”  

After all, parental instincts ran deep. Even though her son had done something stupid, she knew he deserved punishment—but she was terrified the Emperor might beat him too harshly. Her heart would break if that happened.  

Because the Emperor was…  

Remembering the man’s cold, stormy expression earlier, her heart pounded erratically. Her limbs were weak, trembling so much she couldn’t even stand. The maids and the matron had to help her up, reassuring her, “The young prince is still His Majesty’s son. Even a vicious tiger doesn’t eat its own cubs. Don’t worry, Madam. This servant will go check.”  

Absurd. This was utterly absurd. Her son had sneaked into the Emperor’s palace, stolen his own sister, and brought her here. And from the Emperor’s questioning earlier, it seemed the boy had done something even more foolish. Madam Yu felt like she was losing her mind.  

Her hands shook as she paced back and forth before making a swift decision. “No, I’ll go myself. A mother’s failure to teach is her own fault. I’ll plead with His Majesty for mercy.”  

The usually timid and gentle woman didn’t even bother with her appearance. Lifting her skirts, she rushed out, with the maids and matron hurrying after her.  

Outside Madam Yu’s palace, a sedan chair awaited. Father and daughter boarded it—or rather, the big one kicked the little one inside while still holding her in his arms, though the cape concealed her so well that it was hard to tell.  

The Qin Emperor had arrived in a storm of urgency, striding in with a blade in hand, but now that he had found her, he was in no rush to leave. The sedan chair was comfortable, and though the eunuchs carrying it moved slowly, they were steady, letting the rain fall on themselves without complaint.  

The Emperor’s exclusive Imperial Carriage was spacious and well-equipped. Considering the little princess might have been exposed to the rain and cold, it was stocked with warm water, milk, rice paste, and stacks of clean towels—though none of it was needed. The Little Dragon Cub was sulking, buried in the cape, refusing to emerge. Strangely, she wasn’t the least bit wet, so the towels went unused—except by the Emperor himself, who had gotten drenched while searching for her.  

The sedan chair had everything—no need to walk, food and drink at hand, and the most powerful man in the world serving as a personal heater. It was practically heavenly treatment.  

In stark contrast was the culprit, Huhai.

The Qin Emperor coldly ordered him to follow, and Huhai dared not disobey, scurrying along obediently. Yet his father ignored him, carrying the little princess into the Imperial Carriage and leaving him behind. Surrounded by fierce, wolf-like guards with swords, little Huhai was terrified to tears. He ran desperately after the carriage, finally catching up and shouting hoarsely, “Father! Father, what about Huhai? Did you forget me?”

The Qin Emperor was carefully inspecting the little chick for any other injuries. Accustomed to severity, he didn’t know how to comfort a child—only how to avenge her.  

Hearing his unlucky son’s voice, he let out an angry chuckle. Lifting the carriage curtain, he saw his ten-year-old foolish son panting heavily as he ran alongside the sedan chair, his drenched appearance only fueling the emperor’s fury. The more he looked, the angrier he grew, itching to whip the little troublemaker to death.  

Narrowing his eyes, he coldly observed his son’s stupidity before casually ordering the guard commander, “Tie this brat up and drag him behind the carriage. No one is to untie him.”  

Huhai: “…”  

The boy stared in disbelief. “Father, you can’t be serious?”  

The man snorted, yanking the curtain shut and blocking out his son’s despairing gaze.  

*Little fool. If I don’t discipline him now, he’ll grow too bold.*  

Never before had Huhai doubted his blood ties to his father as much as today. So… maybe… just maybe, he wasn’t the emperor’s real son?  

Only the little princess was.  

Perhaps even the eldest prince was.  

The guard commander worked efficiently, swiftly fetching rope to bind the young prince’s hands and tie him behind the carriage. Faced with Huhai’s feeble threats, the hardened commander smiled politely. “Apologies, young master.”  

Huhai: “Aren’t you afraid I’ll have Father punish you later?”  

The commander returned another smile.  

*Who’s scared? Only a coward would fear that!* A frivolous complaint from the young prince would likely just annoy the emperor, earning him another beating.  

He glanced at the sedan chair ahead. If it were the little princess making such a plea… it might work. A single tear from her, and heads would roll.  

Having served the emperor for years—from his ascension to the throne through countless conquests—he knew His Majesty well.  

Today was the angriest he had ever seen the emperor. Not even that old, effeminate snake Lao Ai had provoked such wrath.  

Now that the little princess was back, things would improve—but the young prince was in for suffering. He silently mourned for Huhai.  

The sedan chair moved briskly, but the boy being dragged behind was far from comfortable. At first, he managed to keep up by running, but by the second half of the journey, he was wailing pitifully.  

How could a spoiled ten-year-old match the stamina of burly eunuchs accustomed to carrying palanquins?  

Soon, he was simply being dragged along, his cries heartbreaking to hear. Over and over, he sobbed, “Father, you’ve changed! Am I even your real son?”  

“Father, you don’t love Huhai anymore!”  

“Father, I can’t walk anymore! Tell them to let me go!”  

Madam Yu had also come along but only witnessed the first half. As a woman, she couldn’t keep up physically and only saw her son being tied up. Even that was enough to break her heart, her tears falling more bitterly than her son’s.

The distance from Madam Yu’s palace to the Qin Emperor’s quarters was neither too far nor too close. If Huhai had calmed himself and followed the pace of the palanquin bearers, the journey might not have been so arduous. But he had been too frantic—running wildly at first until he exhausted his energy, then being dragged along helplessly afterward.  

The guards could hardly bear to watch—it was pitiful, utterly pitiful!  

In their hearts, they marveled at how His Majesty remained as stern and impartial as ever. But then they wondered—was the Emperor perhaps placing too much importance on the little princess?  

True, she was his own flesh and blood, but there were several other princesses in the harem. He was not lacking in sons or daughters, and he had never been particularly close to any of them. So how had this newborn princess, not even half a month old, managed to catch his favor?  

Huhai didn’t understand it either. By the time he finally reached his father’s palace, he was utterly spent. His wrists were rubbed raw, burning with pain, and his feet ached from exhaustion.  

Once inside, Huhai thought this ordeal would finally be over.  

But then, the Qin Emperor cradled his little sister and strode toward the inner chambers, tossing over his shoulder, “Go kneel in the side hall for two hours and reflect on your actions.”  

Huhai: “…”  

Madam Yu didn’t witness the aftermath herself, but the palace maid she had sent to observe returned, vividly describing the young prince’s miserable state. When she heard he had also been punished with kneeling and reflection, Madam Yu panicked. In her desperation, she could only think of one person—the eldest prince.  

She was powerless—as were all the women in the harem. None of them had any sway over the Emperor. Only the eldest prince might stand a chance. As the Emperor’s firstborn son, he had always been eloquent, capable, and well-liked. Perhaps His Majesty would listen to him.  

No sooner thought than done.  

Madam Yu summoned one of her son’s attendant eunuchs and ordered him to rush to the government office to fetch the eldest prince for help. “Tell him the young prince is about to be beaten to death by His Majesty, and beg him, as the elder brother, to come and plead for mercy.”  

The eunuch hurried off at once. As the young prince’s attendant, he had failed in his duty by allowing him to cause such a disaster. Now, he had to make up for his mistake as quickly as possible.  

Fusu had a residence outside the palace, near the government offices. Currently serving as the Commandant of Justice, he was diligent in his duties, often too busy to travel back and forth to the palace, so he stayed outside.  

Just as he finished his work, the little eunuch burst into the office in a frenzy, holding a token. The moment he laid eyes on the eldest prince—whose noble bearing was as refined as jade—he felt as if he had found his savior. Falling to his knees and wiping away tears, he cried out, “Your Highness! A disaster—a terrible disaster!”  

“Young Prince Huhai is about to be beaten to death by His Majesty!”  

Fusu: “?”