Chapter 4

The Little Dragon Cub’s heart was bubbling with joy—pride and delight were the only emotions in her tiny Dragon Heart. If not for fear of startling her irritable Dragon Father, she would have rolled around on the spot to celebrate her successful first-time time travel!  

This time, her bad father wasn’t allowed to shake her off or drag his feet. She was sticking to him no matter what!  

The man narrowed his eyes and pinched the little cub’s cheek. “If you want to stay, behave.”  

Zhao Gao entered just in time to hear those words.  

The tall, majestic, and intimidatingly handsome Qin Emperor, holding the little dumpling in his arms, uttered this threat in a fierce tone.  

Zhao Gao: “…”  

After a pause, he stepped forward and said, “Your Majesty, it is time for the midday meal. The little princess… must be hungry. Shall I arrange for a wet nurse to take her away?”  

The Qin Emperor glanced down at the Little Chick in his arms—her eyes were tightly shut, and her tiny fists clenched even tighter…  

He sneered and said, “Find the ugliest one.”  

Zhao Gao: “…”  

As he left, Zhao Gao pondered the Emperor’s meaning. Why would His Majesty want the ugliest wet nurse for the little princess? Had His Majesty’s aesthetic judgment gone awry?  

Little did Zhao Gao know that the Little Dragon Cub had caught a glimpse of him when he entered and, in her heart, had been grumbling, *Ugly, ugly, ugly!* The Qin Emperor, acutely attuned to the Little Chick’s emotions, immediately demanded the ugliest wet nurse.  

The great, unparalleled, and all-conquering Qin Emperor was arrogant and self-assured. As the ruler of the world, how could he not handle a mere little cub?  

Zhao Gao worked efficiently and soon presented several wet nurses—all of them the ugliest. How ugly? Either too fat, too short, with eyes too small, or bulging like copper bells.  

The Little Dragon Cub buried her face in her father’s chest, refusing to lift it no matter what.  

The Qin Emperor smirked, his lips curling slightly, and casually pointed at two. “You two, then.”  

When the Little Dragon Cub was forcibly taken away, she cried for the first time.  

From the moment she was born, this was her first cry—a deafening wail. The palace attendants, who had been worried that the premature little princess might be frail, couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Then, they were slightly surprised—so the little princess was actually quite healthy?  

The sky suddenly darkened.  

The palace servants looked up to see thick storm clouds rolling in, black and oppressive. In no time, heavy raindrops poured down, drenching those who couldn’t find shelter in an instant.  

“…”  

Ahead, the tall and plump figure of the ugly wet nurse was still retreating into the distance, the thunderous cries from her arms never ceasing.  

The Qin Emperor was enjoying his meal, feeling unusually hungry today—he even drank two extra bowls of soup.  

Zhao Gao glanced outside, somewhat concerned. “Your Majesty, it’s raining.”  

The Qin Emperor paid no mind. “So what? Did you forget to bring in your laundry?”  

Zhao Gao: “…No, it’s just that the little princess is crying so miserably. Taking her out now might make her catch a chill.”  

The Qin Emperor had ordered the Little Chick to be placed in a small palace adjacent to his own chambers—a privilege he had bestowed upon the newborn cub. It was the same treatment Fusu had once received, as only the eldest imperial prince had ever been allowed to live so close to the Emperor. The Qin Emperor thought he was being more than generous, yet this Little Chick had quite the temper.  

At Zhao Gao’s words, he paused, setting down his chopsticks. “Then what do you suggest?”  

What could Zhao Gao say? How the Emperor chose to treat his offspring was his own business. Who was he to judge the affairs of the imperial family? If the Emperor listened to him and something went wrong later, he’d have no way to defend himself when the reckoning came.

The ever-smooth and shrewd Zhao Gao smiled and said, “This servant is merely concerned for the little princess’s health. Whatever Your Majesty decides, this servant will obey.”  

The Qin Emperor snorted and stood up. “Go bring that little chick back.”  

Zhao Gao and the attending palace servants: “…” Ch-chick?!  

What kind of absurd nickname was this?  

Shouldn’t it be “Dragon Cub”? Could it be that His Majesty, as the biological father, was actually a stingy, black-hearted rooster?  

Zhao Gao stole a glance at the Emperor, who had already walked to the window, standing with his hands behind his back as he gazed at the rain outside, lost in thought.  

Zhao Gao mused that compared to His Majesty’s tall and burly frame, the frail newborn princess could indeed be considered… a little chick…  

The Little Dragon Cub had long been dissatisfied with being called a “chick.” As the nursemaid carried her back, she mentally added several grievances to her little ledger: first, her Dragon Father was cold, unreasonable, and heartless for letting someone else take her away; second, he actually called her a “chick”?  

This was her first proper meeting with her Dragon Father since hatching, and this was the treatment she got?  

This was far worse than the Little Dragon Cub had expected!  

She had imagined that her Dragon Father might miss her, might build her a golden palace filled with glittering treasures, sincerely apologize for his mistakes, and then diligently… raise her, fulfilling his fatherly duties.  

She never expected him to be so cold, heartless, and unreasonable!  

The Little Dragon Cub was utterly distraught.  

The tall, plump nursemaid, “honored” with the role of the villain, trembled as she carried the wailing princess away from the Emperor’s arms. Every step she took made her heart quiver.  

Though the little princess in her arms was light as a feather and did nothing but cry loudly, the nursemaid couldn’t stop shaking, her legs growing weak. She even felt the urge to kneel before the little princess and beg forgiveness for taking her away from His Majesty—her guilt and fear deepening with every step.  

No one could resist the pressure and subconscious influence of a dragon, even if it was just a cub.  

The nursemaid walked slowly, trembling with each tiny step, hoping that if she delayed long enough, His Majesty would hear the princess’s cries and relent, calling her back.  

If this went on any longer, she felt her heart would shatter—broken by the little princess’s cries.  

Had she known that being the princess’s nursemaid would be such a torturous task, she would never have been tempted by the generous rewards or the promise of wealth. She would have stayed far, far away!  

After what felt like only a moment—less than half a quarter-hour—before the nursemaid could even leave the palace chambers, Zhao Gao hurried after her. “Wait, don’t go yet. His Majesty is worried the little princess might catch a chill and wants her brought back.”  

The nursemaid finally exhaled in relief, her shoulders sagging as her legs nearly gave way, almost dropping the little princess. Scolded by Zhao Gao, she hastily said, “This servant will bring Her Highness back at once.”  

Zhao Gao gave her a sidelong glance, deeming her unreliable, and reached out. “Enough. Let me carry her.”  

Though the Little Dragon Cub kept her eyes closed, sniffling and hiccuping pitifully, she secretly peeked at Zhao Gao.  

She hmphed and turned her little head away. This big villain beside her father—he was the one who ruined the Emperor’s empire, who left his great unification unfinished, forcing her to travel back and forth through time. She refused to let him hold her!

Zhao Gao held the little princess in his arms, feeling that the tiny, soft bundle was indeed a delight to hold—no wonder the Emperor had carried her all the way without letting go.  

But though the little one was soft, she didn’t seem to like him much?  

He felt awkward holding her—had he not bathed today? Or forgotten to change his clothes? Did his scent displease the little princess?  

When they returned to Ying Zheng’s palace, the man glanced up and said, “Have the wet nurse feed her first, then prepare a small bed—raise her like a little piglet.”  

Zhao Gao and the wet nurse: “…”  

Back when she was still an egg, the Little Dragon Cub only needed to absorb the essence of heaven and earth, along with the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Objects left by her Dragon Father. But now that she had transformed into a newborn human infant, no matter how extraordinary she had been before, she still had to lie on her stomach and obediently drink human milk.  

The Little Dragon Cub refused, wrinkling her nose in disgust. The wet nurse was nearly in tears—she couldn’t quite tell whether she adored or feared the little princess, but she didn’t dare force-feed her. After several failed attempts, she had no choice but to give up and seek help from Chief Steward Zhao.  

Zhao Gao, in turn, reported the matter to the Emperor.  

Before Zhao Gao could even speak, Ying Zheng had already heard the commotion from the side chamber—the wet nurse coaxing carefully, the little cub whining stubbornly, refusing to drink even half a sip, grumbling endlessly.  

He stood up, his tall frame exuding an oppressive aura. “Fetch a basin. I’ll feed her myself.”  

At last, the Little Dragon Cub got her wish—she saw her father approaching, a basin of milk in hand, striding forward with such force that the palace servants trembled in fear. The Emperor’s demeanor didn’t look like he was about to lovingly feed the princess—more like he might, in a fit of displeasure, dump the entire basin over her tiny head.  

Blame it on… the Emperor’s infamous temper. Whenever he scowled and looked fierce, the servants instinctively assumed he was about to… toss someone around for fun.  

But the Little Dragon Cub giggled happily. Tiny and swaddled in blankets, she lay on her back in the small bed, waving her arms and legs with great effort, her toothless mouth stretched into an innocent, carefree grin.  

Tch! The man silently scoffed in disdain before plopping down by the bed, lifting the Little Dragon Cub onto his lap. He shoved the basin of milk right into her face and commanded coldly, “Drink.”  

Zhao Gao, the wet nurse, and the others: “…”  

An eerie silence filled the chamber for several seconds. Finally, Zhao Gao couldn’t help but speak up. “Your Majesty… the princess is still very young…”  

For most of the palace servants witnessing this scene, their lives suddenly seemed at risk! Perhaps one day, the Emperor would recall this embarrassing episode and decide to silence them all—just to erase the evidence.  

After all, His Majesty was the unparalleled, world-unifying great monarch. Wouldn’t future history books sing his praises? What if the court historians recorded: On such-and-such date, the Qin Emperor personally fed milk to the little princess…  

The thought was unbearable. The Emperor would probably grab a sword and start hacking people down.  

But back to the matter at hand—though she had been drenched in milk, the Little Dragon Cub was somewhat satisfied. In the human world, only mothers fed their young. At least her Dragon Father had fulfilled his duty, so she could forgive him… a tiny bit.  

After the clumsy feeding session, the Qin Emperor frowned and ordered a small bathtub prepared. In another side chamber of the palace was a warm bathing pool—his usual place for washing and relaxation. The floor was heated, ensuring warmth the moment one stepped inside, with no risk of catching a chill. The small tub was placed beside the warm pool.

The Qin Emperor rolled up his sleeves and placed the Little Dragon Cub into the tub.  

Zhao Gao, standing outside, wondered: Had His Majesty grown addicted to raising her? Or was he trying to make up for the earlier embarrassment of feeding her milk?  

The Qin Emperor had expected the Little Dragon Cub to be afraid of water, but once in the tub, she seemed completely at ease. She even found the tub too small, clinging to the edge and pointing at the large warm pool nearby, clearly eager to take a swim.  

Ying Zheng: “…”