Chapter 15

On the day of the Little Dragon Cub’s full moon celebration, the palace was filled with many guests. There were members of the Ying clan, civil and military officials of the fourth rank and above along with their families, as well as nobles from prominent families who arrived gracefully.

Originally, a princess’s full moon banquet wouldn’t warrant such grandeur—even a favored prince wouldn’t receive this level of attention. The reason for such extravagance lay with the Qin Emperor.

Just a few days before the banquet, good news arrived from the north. After suffering a drought for over half a year, the fertile lands of Shu Commandery had suddenly received rain. The news reached the capital exactly a month later, and the day it rained happened to coincide with the little princess’s birth.

In recent years, with the chaos among the warring states and the Qin army fighting battles across the land, the people had endured great suffering. Now, as the country was on the verge of unification, it was a time for recuperation. The drought in Shu Commandery would have inevitably led to famine and countless deaths the following year. If these displaced victims had wandered elsewhere, they could have caused unrest in various regions.

This spring rain came at the perfect time for planting. Though it was slightly late for tilling and sowing, and the harvest might not be as bountiful as in previous years, it would still ensure that most people had enough to survive—at the very least, no one would starve.

The Qin Emperor was overjoyed upon hearing this. Using it as an excuse to host a grand full moon banquet for the little princess seemed only natural. Not a single objection was raised by the court officials—this was a joyous occasion worth celebrating.

Many officials even seized the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the little princess, whom the Emperor had personally taken under his care. They wondered what she looked like to make the Emperor break his own rules repeatedly for her.

On the morning of the banquet, the Little Dragon Cub was bundled up by her nursemaids and palace maids in a red swaddling cloth, wrapped so tightly that only her delicate, snow-white chubby face peeked out. The servants strictly followed the imperial physician’s orders to keep the little princess from catching a chill, almost tempted to add even more layers. If not for the little princess waving her chubby hands in protest, they might have truly wrapped her up into a Little Red Rice Dumpling.

But it was close enough—from a distance, she looked like a soft, pudgy little ball. Fusu, having just finished court duties, followed his father to the palace, his eyes already alight with amusement before he even arrived.

The banquet was set to begin at noon, so the father and son headed straight to the inner palace after court before proceeding to the celebration together.

Fusu walked a step behind his father, regretful that with the Emperor present, he likely wouldn’t get a chance to hold his Little Imperial Sister.

Truth be told, Fusu had never held a child before. As the Emperor’s eldest son, he had many younger siblings, but none had ever been truly close to him. Though they respected him, they remained distant and formal.

Little Huhai, on the other hand, had trailed after him daily, always running to him whenever he got into trouble. But even Huhai only grew truly close after turning five or six—old enough to run, jump, and cause mischief. None had been like his Little Imperial Sister—tiny, soft, and unable to even speak, yet so endearing that he couldn’t help but want to hold and coax her.

Lost in thought, Fusu mused that by age alone, his Little Imperial Sister could easily have been his daughter.

Under the Qin Emperor’s heavy, dark glare, the Little Dragon Cub bypassed him entirely and crawled straight toward his eldest son, Fusu. Her chubby little hands soon latched onto Fusu’s leg, and she let out a soft whimper.

Fusu, startled out of his reverie, felt something weighing down his foot. Looking down, he saw his Little Imperial Sister clinging to his leg, her round, bright eyes filled with affection as if eager to climb up.

He froze for a moment, then, under his father’s deathly stare, bravely bent down and picked her up. His jade-like eyes, warm and clear, brimmed with tender amusement.

“Does Little Imperial Sister still remember her elder brother?”

At the age of just one month like the Little Imperial Sister, children typically don’t remember things or recognize people unless they frequently see them. Fusu had long been assigned official duties and was diligent in his work, rarely having the chance to visit the palace to see his little sister. Moreover, with the Qin Emperor around, he hardly ever got the opportunity to hold her. From their first meeting to the last time he sent gifts when she fell ill, they had only met twice in total.

He had thought that this third meeting might require reintroducing himself to the Little Imperial Sister. To his surprise, the tiny fatty seemed to remember him, not only reaching past the emperor to ask for his embrace but also openly showing affection and admiration in her expression.

Fusu’s heart warmed slightly, and the smile in his eyes deepened. The palace attendants watching from the side secretly clutched their chests—the Eldest Young Master’s smile was truly captivating! Like an immortal noble.

He gently patted the Little Imperial Sister’s head, the soft, fuzzy baby hair distinctly tickling his palm. For the first time, Fusu understood the joy his father found in raising the little princess by his side. Outsiders speculated endlessly about the emperor’s motives, but Fusu thought—what motives could there be? It was simply because the Little Imperial Sister was irresistibly adorable.

Perhaps the emperor had brought her back unintentionally at first, but after spending time with her, he likely couldn’t let go. Fusu himself had only met her three times yet already felt the urge to take her in—how much more so for the emperor?

These thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant. For the Little Dragon Cub, winning human affection was effortless. Even unconsciously, she had the entire palace staff wrapped around her tiny claws, doting on her and obeying her every whim. With her blood-related elder brother, the Little Dragon Cub deliberately sought closeness, easily securing his fondness.

The Little Dragon Cub was a dragon of her word. She had already decided what gift to give her brother last time. She’d heard this elder brother loved rare ancient texts and dabbled in all kinds of eclectic books. She recalled once casually hoarding a few large chests that seemed to contain what humans called precious rare manuscripts.

The Little Dragon Cub had no interest in such things—she’d hauled them back solely because the chests were big enough to hide her glittering treasures.

Don’t let her age fool you—the Little Dragon Cub was fiercely possessive. No one could pilfer her tiny treasure vault. As a pure-blooded dragon, her innate territoriality surpassed even her Dragon Father’s.

Thinking of the gift, the Little Dragon Cub wriggled her limbs impatiently. This human infant body was pitifully weak compared to her dragon form—soft arms and legs made everything difficult. Her treasures weren’t even in the palace; if she wanted to gift her brother, she’d have to wait until she could walk.

Tugging her brother’s sleeve, she flashed him a sweet smile when he looked down. She wanted to promise she’d dig up treasures for him once she could walk, but her underdeveloped speech resulted only in repetitive babble.

The Qin Emperor and Fusu heard the chubby little one urgently coo: “Da… da-da-da…”

The emperor’s temple twitched. “Da” sounded like “Dá”—which in old Qin dialect also meant “father.” Native Qin subjects sometimes addressed their fathers as “A-Da” or “A-Dá.”

Nearby attendants subtly hunched their shoulders, sensing the sudden chill in the springtime hall.

The Qin Emperor, clad in black dragon robes, wore an equally dark expression, with an almost tangible aura of irritation emanating from him. The palace attendants silently took a step back, secretly wondering—had His Majesty grown jealous again?

Last time, when the Eldest Young Master held the little princess for the first time, the Emperor had unceremoniously snatched her away. It seemed history was about to repeat itself.

The man pinched the Little Dragon Cub’s chubby cheek and gritted his teeth in admonishment, “It’s ‘gege,’ not ‘dada.’”  

The Little Dragon Cub opened her mouth and mimicked, “Da… dada.”  

The mispronunciation only worsened—what had initially been close to “da” now fully devolved into “dada.” After several failed attempts, the Qin Emperor stormed off, his face thunderous.  

Fusu couldn’t resist kissing his Little Imperial Sister’s forehead. “You little troublemaker.”  

The Qin Emperor strode ahead while Fusu followed, carrying the little princess. Just as they stepped out of the palace gates, a dark blur came charging toward them from afar, its voice ringing out before the figure was even visible: “Father! Eldest Brother! Little Imperial Sister! Huhai is here!”  

Huhai had tasted the benefits. Though last time, his father had scorned him for arriving empty-handed—deeming his apology insincere—and the little princess had ignored him, he still felt the wounds on his backside healing afterward. The effect wasn’t as dramatic as the first time, but after shamelessly lingering around the little princess a few more times, his injuries had nearly vanished. This delighted Huhai beyond measure. However, the little princess soon grew tired of him, and his father ordered the guards to bar him from the palace. Only now, during the little princess’s full-moon banquet, did he finally get another chance to approach her.  

Huhai smugly thought that his Little Imperial Sister must be some kind of miracle elixir incarnate. If he could just soak up a bit more of her celestial aura, he’d never have to fear his father’s punishments again!  

The young man fawned with an ingratiating smile, sidling up to his father—only to find the Emperor’s arms empty, devoid of the familiar little dumpling, his expression sour. Glancing behind, Huhai spotted the little princess nestled in his elder brother’s embrace.  

The tactless youth blurted, “Huh? Little Imperial Sister isn’t letting Father hold her?”  

“Is Eldest Brother’s scent more pleasing than Father’s?”  

He rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Little Brother also smells nice—I even took a bath today! How about letting Huhai-gege hold you too?”  

Huhai mused that if he could hold his little sister just once, the effects might last ten days to half a month. He could run wild without fear of punishment!  

The old father—Qin Emperor—darkened further.  

He flexed his fingers. This damned son’s hide was clearly itching for another beating.  

A large hand reached from behind, hoisting the chattering, lecherous youth by the collar and tossing him to the head guard. “Keep an eye on him. Silence him for an hour.”  

The stone-faced guard clasped his fists in obedience.  

Huhai: “…”  

Without pause, the Qin Emperor plucked the little cub from Fusu’s arms and boarded the Dragon Carriage alone.  

Fusu stared at his now-empty embrace, then at his father’s cold, unyielding black silhouette. A helpless smile tugged at his lips. Perhaps he could take a page from Huhai’s book and sneak his little sister away someday—now that would be amusing.  

The court officials and noble clans had long since arrived, now gathered in small clusters, chatting. The main topic of discussion was the banquet’s little protagonist.  

Consort Lian was utterly unremarkable—rumored to have been a palace maid who, after a single night of the Emperor’s favor, soared to prominence upon conceiving. By all accounts, she held little sway in the harem.  

Though she hadn’t lived to enjoy the privileges of raising the little princess, she was granted posthumous dignity: buried with the honors of a Madam and bestowed an imperial title by the Emperor. Compared to Lady Zheng, mother of the Eldest Young Master, she fared no worse. The noblewomen of the clan couldn’t help but envy her.

The civil and military officials grew increasingly curious about the little princess who had brought honor to her birth mother and received special treatment from His Majesty. Even the elder statesmen couldn’t help but ponder the matter deeply.

Amidst the hushed whispers, the young eunuch announced: “His Majesty arrives, accompanied by the Eldest Prince Fusu, Young Prince Huhai, and the Little Princess.”

As the princess was still too young to have received an official title or name, the eunuch simply referred to her as “the Little Princess.”

The Madams of the inner palace had already taken their seats, while the nobles and ministers had arranged themselves properly. After performing the ritual greetings, they raised their eyes to see His Majesty passing by with a red Little Swaddling Clothes in his arms. The Emperor’s towering stature made it impossible for the kneeling officials to see the princess clearly, yet their hearts trembled with astonishment.

It was actually His Majesty himself carrying her—no wet nurse or palace maid had been entrusted with the task.

The ministers had long heard rumors that the Emperor personally attended to the Little Princess’s upbringing, even handling trivial matters like feeding her milk and medicine. But witnessing it firsthand made it all the more unbelievable.

Their iron-willed, autocratic Emperor… actually holding a child?

From this day onward, the entire Qin court and imperial clan began having their worldviews reshaped. And there would be many more days like this to come.

Unofficial histories would later jokingly refer to this day as “Princess Day”—marking the first public appearance of Qin’s most famous and representative princess before the assembled court and nobility.

And from this day forward, countless waves would be stirred. Those fortunate enough to live during this era would witness everything concerning this little princess, continuously having their preconceptions challenged.

What should have been a solemn, iron-fisted, and fragmented period of Qin history would from this day onward be completely transformed—becoming vibrant, colorful, and so lively that future history enthusiasts would doubt whether the official Qin records had actually been adapted from unofficial histories.

Was such a mischievous imperial family really acceptable?

How did the Qin dynasty manage to continue flourishing without being overthrown?