Chapter 17

The Qin Emperor had just eaten his fill halfway when he glanced up to see Fusu’s table completely surrounded. His little cub was nestled in her elder brother’s arms, now completely obscured from view by the audacious Zhao courtiers.

He paused, sipping his wine leisurely, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. Zhao Gao, observing from the side, thought the emperor might say something, but instead, he simply resumed eating as if nothing had happened.

“……”

While the emperor at the head of the hall dined in solitary contentment, the gossiping crowd below was in full swing. Only the consorts remained properly seated, not daring to move—they were imperial concubines after all, and had to maintain decorum. Apart from Madam Yu, the others also longed to catch a glimpse of the little princess, but with the emperor watching, none dared stir.

As the crowd grew thicker, Huhai’s furious outbursts occasionally pierced through the encirclement, his voice rising clearly above the scattered chatter and clinking of cups.

The Qin Emperor ate while idly listening—

“Get back! You’re blocking me from playing with my royal sister!”

“Who the hell is shoving me?”

“Scram! How dare you touch my royal sister, you scoundrel!”

“Whose brat are you, daring to lay hands on my sister?”

“Minister, how many more cups after this one? Finish up and make way—planning to grow mushrooms here?”

After a while, the young prince wailed in frustration, “Elder Brother, can’t you control them?!”

……

For a time, the hall was dominated by the boy’s incessant squawking, like a duck in full cry—each shout more indignant than the last. One could easily imagine the thunderous scowl on his face.

Madam Yu covered her face with a brocade handkerchief, wishing she could vanish into the ground. Why couldn’t Huhai ever stay quiet for even a moment?

Zhao Gao’s lips twitched as he noticed the emperor had stopped eating—whether because he was full or simply disturbed by the boy’s racket, he couldn’t tell.

Yet, for some reason, the Qin Emperor neither reprimanded nor silenced his foolish son, watching the spectacle with apparent amusement.

This was the Little Dragon Cub’s first time seeing so many people. Each held a cup of wine, or at least pretended to seek the elder prince’s counsel, coming and going in an endless stream.

Some of the bolder ones squeezed in and never left, just as Huhai had complained—finishing one cup only to start another. The Little Dragon Cub watched them with wide-eyed curiosity, but as the stares grew overwhelming, she buried her tiny face against her elder brother’s neck with a displeased whimper.

Here, Huhai proved his worth. Thanks to his meddlesome, shamelessly domineering nature—never one for politeness, whether facing ministers or nobles—he drove away anyone who lingered too long in his sight.

Most officials couldn’t retaliate. How could they? A ten-year-old boy’s reckless tongue was to be expected, and he was, after all, the emperor’s son. The thin-skinned could only rub their noses and retreat.

A bold child who had sneaked over to touch the little princess’s finger was dragged out by his ear by Huhai, who then proceeded to scold the three-year-old relentlessly, calling him a brat and questioning if he had any ulterior motives.  

The child looked utterly bewildered—what in the world were “ulterior motives”?  

Some ministers found it both amusing and exasperating, while the child’s father’s face twitched in irritation. What could a three-year-old possibly understand?  

The father quickly scooped up his son and retreated, tapping the boy’s nose in exasperation. “Couldn’t resist being naughty, huh? Now you’ve provoked the tyrant!”  

The child rubbed his fingers together, grinning innocently. “Princess’s hand… soft, like a white bun.”  

The father: “…”  

At this moment, the Little Dragon Cub finally showed Huhai a hint of approval.  

Unfortunately, Huhai didn’t notice this rare softening in his imperial sister’s expression. Only Fusu, who was holding her, caught it, his gentle eyes flickering with amusement.  

Deeming it about time, Fusu reminded the crowd, “Gentlemen, let’s not forget His Majesty while indulging in drinks here.”  

The civil and military officials suddenly recalled where they were—the emperor was still seated above, watching them! How improper they had been! In no time, they orderly retreated to their respective seats.  

The lively hall regained its elegant and composed atmosphere. A few senior and highly respected elders began toasting the emperor, exchanging cups in an attempt to smooth over the earlier chaos.  

Fusu smiled in satisfaction, pinching his little imperial sister’s cheek. He patiently explained things to her in a low voice, even though he knew she might not fully grasp his words.  

“Recognizing more people won’t hurt. It might prove useful when you grow up.”  

Seeing the Little Dragon Cub rub her eyes impatiently, Fusu couldn’t help but chuckle, lightly booping her nose. His voice dropped even lower as he earnestly instructed her, “Well… some people aren’t as good-looking as Father or your brothers, but looks don’t matter—usefulness does.”  

The refined and jade-like young prince sighed softly. Since ancient times, women had faced hardships. Though the Qin dynasty didn’t adhere to the Zhou royal family’s restrictive customs, allowing women more freedom, disparities still existed.  

He had deliberately brought his little sister down to ensure she made an impression before the court and the imperial clan. No doubt the emperor had permitted Huhai’s antics with the same intention.  

For a princess of Qin, being conspicuous wasn’t a bad thing. On the contrary, the more low-key one was, the easier it was to be overlooked—growing up with no voice at all. How many palace princesses did the court even remember or recognize?  

Likely none, except the eldest princess, who benefited from her title. His little sister was barely a month old—she had a long road ahead.  

As Fusu played with the chubby little bundle, he suddenly realized just how much thought he was putting into her future. A faint epiphany struck him.  

As the eldest son, he had several younger brothers and sisters. While he fulfilled his basic duties as an elder brother, none had ever warranted such careful planning. But when he looked down at that delicate, chubby face, those big, bright eyes staring unblinkingly at him, he smiled in sudden acceptance. Did it matter? Even among siblings, some bonds simply clicked.

Huhai scared off the child and returned to find the crowd around his elder brother had dispersed. His brother was whispering something to the Little Imperial Sister with his head lowered. The young boy pursed his lips and moved closer, only to catch one sentence: “Stay away from Huhai from now on.”

Huhai: “……?”

The boy was furious and growled in displeasure, “Elder Brother!”

The full moon banquet spread news of the little princess throughout the palace. Nearly seventy to eighty percent of high-ranking officials above the fourth rank had seen her, and even the common folk near the emperor’s feet in Xianyang had heard occasional rumors. It was said the princess resembled His Majesty in his childhood—exceptionally beautiful and adorable—and because of her cleverness, she had won the emperor’s favor and was personally raised by him.

Even when Huhai went to the Academy to study, he overheard his classmates discussing his imperial sister. When he approached, the boys who usually clashed with him or were bullied by him set aside their grudges and boldly asked about his sister.

“Is the little princess really as soft and pretty as Wang Er said? Especially her hands?”

At the mention of hands, the boy recalled how, during the palace banquet, that three-year-old brat had taken advantage of his small size to slip unnoticed into the crowd and secretly touched the Little Imperial Sister’s hand right under his nose, gushing about how soft it was.

He slammed the table and gritted his teeth. “That little brat Wang Er!”

Wang Er’s elder brother, Wang Li, was also studying at the Academy. Hearing this, he silently raised the bamboo slips in front of him to shield his face.

He hadn’t attended the banquet yesterday—his parents had taken Wang Er instead. Who would have thought the little rascal would be bold enough to sneak a touch of the princess’s hand? Thankfully, the emperor didn’t know, but… he’d heard Young Master Huhai had been furious. It seemed he’d have to keep a low profile at the Academy from now on.

The boy glanced around and spotted the bamboo slips propped up on the desk in the back row. His brow arched, and he strode over with blazing anger. The others’ eyes lit up, their faces alight with mischief as they followed behind him.

Silence fell over the room.

The boy lowered his voice. “Put it down.”

Wang Li remained motionless for a long moment. Just as the boy couldn’t resist reaching to snatch away the offending bamboo slips, Wang Li slowly lowered them and looked up at the boy looming over him with a fierce glare.

After a pause, Wang Li said, “Your Highness is so exceptionally handsome, and the little princess, being your sister, must naturally be beautiful and adorable. My younger brother is young and foolishly enamored with beauty—when he sees someone lovely, he can’t help but want to get close. I beg Your Highness’s forgiveness.”

The boy’s dark expression gradually eased. Hearing the praise for his looks and his sister’s beauty dissolved half his urge to demand retribution. He lifted his chin. “This young master’s appearance is naturally beyond comparison with you mere mortals, and so is my imperial sister’s.”

“Tch, fine. Since you’re so honest, I’ll let it go today. But go warn that little rascal Wang Er—next time I see him, he’d better watch out.”

Wang Li nodded.

He had already discussed it with his parents—Wang Er wouldn’t be allowed into the palace anymore. That boy took after who knew whom, obsessed with beauty since childhood. Whether it was objects or people, if they were pretty, he couldn’t resist sneaking a touch. If he could keep them by his side, he’d be overjoyed.

The princess’s full moon banquet had exposed the little pervert for what he was. After some thought, Wang Li decided to assign some plainer servants to his brother in the future to cure him of this bad habit.

Having received sincere flattery and salvaged his pride by reprimanding someone, the boy returned to his seat in high spirits. The other classmates exchanged glances but didn’t dare ask any more questions.

When the young boy returned to the palace after his lessons, they crowded around Wang Li, chattering excitedly: “Is the little princess really that pretty?”  

“I heard her hands are tiny and soft?”  

Wang Li: “…”  

The next day, the emperor issued an edict bestowing a name upon the month-old princess—Zhao, with the title Longbao, henceforth to be called Princess Longbao.  

The courtiers were slightly surprised. Unlike the two-character names of the other princesses, this youngest princess bore a single character—Zhao. Zhao was an auspicious word, as the saying goes: “The phoenix sings, upon that high ridge; the parasol tree grows, bathed in the morning sun.” In every aspect, it carried excellent symbolism. The courtiers marveled at the emperor’s level of regard for this daughter—even when naming the eldest prince, he had never been so deliberate.  

The title was even more intriguing—Longbao. “Long” carried the meaning of “dragon,” a character rarely used outside the imperial family. Longbao—Dragon’s Treasure—was the emperor calling her his treasure?  

When Wang Li heard his father speak of this after court, his resolve to keep his younger brother strictly confined grew even firmer.