Chapter 19

How Wang Er got a taste of the Bamboo Shoot Stir-Fry with Meat (a beating) from his father after court dismissal need not be elaborated. In his own words, for the sake of future happiness, one beating was nothing—he could take two if needed.

The palace was equally lively.

After court, the Qin Emperor tossed a booklet to the Little Dragon Cub. The list inside contained names he had preliminarily screened, now handed over for her to blindly pick eight or ten favorites.

Zhao Gao, standing behind the emperor, lowered his head with a twitching lip. Eight or ten? Was His Majesty selecting servants now?

Every name on this list represented the finest young talents from noble households. Though still young, given their lineage and education, they were destined to become pillars of the court—veritable Dragon and Phoenix Among Men Reserves.

Yet here these young masters were being treated like cabbages at a market stall, left to a princess’s whims. The three-year-old princess—could she even read characters? And without meeting them, how could she know whom she fancied?

The emperor’s mind was unfathomable. A father daring to let his chubby three-year-old daughter randomly select from such a list, and the little girl complying without hesitation.

The Little Dragon Cub sprawled across her small desk, her tiny legs half-crouched like a martial stance. Maintaining this odd posture, she aimlessly poked at the list with a small brush, muttering:

“This one… oh this one! So pretty… then this one, that one seems nice too… hmm… these characters look nice, I’ll pick this.”

Zhao Gao and the palace attendants: “……”

The emperor sipped tea while waiting. Seeing his plump daughter had nearly finished selecting, he scooped her up and tossed the booklet back to Zhao Gao. “Issue the edict tomorrow morning according to this.”

Zhao Gao fumbled to catch it. Upon opening, he found the chosen names soaked in ink blots—the illiterate princess had simply dabbed her brush randomly at her selections.

After careful scrutiny with several eunuchs’ help, they deciphered and transcribed nine selected names. Adding the princess herself made ten.

Zhao Gao vaguely recalled the eldest prince once teaching the little princess counting and basic arithmetic. What was the last lesson? Adding numbers one through nine?

The carriage moved along the road, surrounded by a thousand-strong entourage.

Outside, a black-clad youth on horseback approached the window: “Shall we rest at the next post station, my lord?”

A gentle, clear voice replied from within: “Very well.” Then: “Xiao Wu, come up.”

The youth dismounted swiftly, tossing the reins to a soldier before boarding.

Inside, the jade-like nobleman Fusu held bamboo slips, tea steaming from the table before him. Pushing a cup toward the youth, he gestured for him to drink.

Later, Fusu’s thoughts drifted to the tearful little bun who’d clung to him at departure. His heart softened repeatedly until his imagination wandered further—when that plump little dumpling grew into a maiden, would Xianyang be full of presumptuous boys coveting her?

The smile at the corner of his lips faded slightly as he made a suggestion to the youth: “Zhaozhao is already three years old. Soon, she can start learning some martial arts for self-defense. Xiao Wu, your skills are excellent. After we return this time, I’ll recommend you to His Majesty as the martial arts instructor for my royal sister. Would you be willing?”

The youth in black robes, no more than fourteen or fifteen years old, had a handsome face but wore his usual expressionless and stern demeanor. “Xiao Wu obeys the Young Master’s command.”

As the carriage gradually moved away, Fusu lowered the curtain and touched the circular jade pendant in his sleeve, revealing a faint smile.

He had been sent on distant assignments by His Majesty before, but this journey felt particularly long.

“Xiao Wu, how much longer until we reach Daijun?”

“Approximately ten more days.”

“Hmm… no rush.”

After a while, the speed of the procession seemed to increase significantly, kicking up clouds of dust behind them.

…

While some rejoiced, others worried. The next day after court, Zhao Gao announced the selection of the young princess’s study companions—nine in total. Far more names had been submitted earlier by officials hoping to enroll their sons, but less than a third of the hundreds nominated by court officials and noble families were chosen.

Among these ministers, not all were genuinely willing to send their sons to serve as companions to a princess. Many aristocratic families and powerful court officials were proud—some reluctantly nominated less-favored sons to save face with the emperor, while others didn’t bother submitting names at all.

Those who looked down on the idea couldn’t understand why their colleagues who had submitted names appeared so anxious. What future could there possibly be in being a companion to a little princess, no matter how favored she was?

Wouldn’t it be better to have their sons earn merits through achievements or simply inherit the family legacy?

If it were the Crown Prince’s companions, there might be reason to compete, but for a three-year-old princess, it seemed unnecessary.

Chancellor Li Si thought of the forgotten grandson his family had nominated, a flicker of displeasure in his eyes. Never mind—a minor companion role was inconsequential. At worst, it was just an unfavored child, not worth opposing His Majesty over.

Many shared Li Si’s sentiments, but there were also those who nervously watched the list in Zhao Gao’s hands, praying their names would be chosen.

Among them were a few high-ranking officials, middle-tier families, and progressive aristocrats.

Zhang Da was one such person. Though the Qin dynasty valued military prowess, he was not from a martial background. In his youth, he had been a minor strategist in His Majesty’s camp—and even that was through connections. He possessed no earth-shattering talent, but his sole virtue was his unwavering loyalty and diligence in carrying out His Majesty’s orders.

Later, when His Majesty rose to power, inherited the throne, eliminated treacherous ministers like Lü Buwei and Lao Ai, and conquered the six states to unify the realm, this minor strategist also ascended, becoming one of His Majesty’s court officials. Now, he held the position of Grand Coachman, one of the Nine Ministers.

To Zhang Da, this rank was already extraordinary. He felt he had reached the pinnacle of his career and now pinned his hopes on whether his beloved son could surpass him.

Why did he want his son to become the princess’s companion? While his dogged obedience to His Majesty was one reason, another was his quietly rebellious thought—one that had been simmering since it first emerged—of becoming the emperor’s in-law.

Even if his son couldn’t win the heart of the imperial princess, wouldn’t it still be advantageous to grow up as her childhood friend? If his son ever made a mistake in office and angered His Majesty, wouldn’t having a childhood companion to plead for mercy be a viable escape route?

Zhang Da’s abacus clicked loudly as he craned his neck, waiting for Zhao Gao to read the name list.  

Beside him, Minister Wang wore a tense expression. The list had already been submitted, and fearing the crime of deceiving the emperor, he dared not ask Zhao Gao to withdraw his son’s name. He could only burn incense and pray with his Madam, hoping their little Wang Er wouldn’t be chosen.  

If that troublemaker really became the princess’s study companion, who knew what mess he might stir up later? As a father, he didn’t want to live in constant fear of suddenly being beheaded by His Majesty one day—too thrilling for his old heart to handle.  

As if fearing something made it happen, the first name called was his own son’s—Wang Er, whose formal name was Wang Kui. Since he was the second child at home, everyone was used to calling him “Little Er.” When his son’s formal name was announced, Minister Wang was momentarily dazed, only snapping back to reality when the third name was called.  

The sturdy middle-aged man swayed slightly. Zhang Da steadied Minister Wang’s arm, green with envy, and said in a sour tone, “Minister Wang, are you too overjoyed? Look at you, so happy you can’t even stand straight.”  

After speaking, he muttered under his breath, “Tsk, usually nothing special, yet somehow so lucky?”  

Minister Wang: “…”  

Just as Zhang Da was stewing in bitterness, the fifth name called was finally his own precious son. The moment he heard the name “Zhang Bao”—Zhang as in their surname, Bao as in “treasure”—his spirits instantly lifted. Such a name was extraordinary!  

Zhang Da smugly nudged the still-dazed Minister Wang beside him and said cheerfully, “Our sons will be classmates from now on, Minister Wang. Let’s make sure they interact often!”  

Minister Wang lowered his head in despair, having no desire to engage with the fool beside him.  

A few more names were called. Zhao Gao watched coldly, unable to help marveling at the little princess’s luck. The names she had blindly picked each had their own merits, making him suspect the Emperor had secretly preselected them.  

For example, there was the young grandson of Chancellor Li Si—though an obscure child, overlooked by his father and grandfather, his lineage from the Li family alone made up for any shortcomings.  

Then there was Zhang Da’s son. Though Zhang Da himself was mediocre in ability, he was obedient, useful, and never stepped out of line (unless flattering the Emperor counted). As a long-serving attendant of His Majesty, he still held some favor in the imperial court.  

His son, born to him in middle age, was his only child and the family’s treasure. Everything the Zhang family had would one day be his. As long as his father didn’t fall from grace, the boy would surely have a bright future when he grew up.  

As for Minister Wang’s son—Wang Yu was born into the prestigious Wang clan, a family with deep roots and many members serving in court. Their influence was not to be underestimated. Moreover… they had sworn brotherhood ties with the Marquis Tongwu, a connection that ran deep. His son’s future prospects spoke for themselves.  

The more Zhao Gao tallied, the more unsettled he became. There was also the son of Minister Gan. Though Gan himself was unremarkable in talent, who was his father? None other than the once-legendary Gan Luo!  

Though Gan Luo had died young, his many friends and disciples now held positions in court. The Gan family’s network was vast. Even if Minister Gan was incompetent, his son, if outstanding, could rise through these connections in the future.

Apart from the children of these court officials, there was also one from the Ying clan. Gongzi Ying’s son, now four years old, was at the perfect age to begin his education. However, Gongzi Ying had always kept a low profile and remained detached from worldly affairs, making him virtually invisible in the court. It was truly surprising that he would send his son to serve as the princess’s study companion. Zhao Gao raised an eyebrow and emotionlessly read out the last name, “Li Chengyu.”

The son of General Li, a direct descendant of the Li family, was only three years old.

Zhao Gao closed the list and smiled faintly. “By His Majesty’s decree, the selected children must be well-prepared by their families. Their daily schedule for entering and leaving the palace for studies will be similar to that of the Academy.”