Chapter 8

The young man flusteredly locked eyes with the Little Imperial Sister in his arms. Her wails shook the heavens, thoroughly frightening him.  

Before he could decide whether to take her back, rain suddenly poured from the sky, drenching him head to toe like a drowned rat. Strangely, the little bundle in his arms remained mostly dry. He didn’t think much of it, assuming he must have shielded her.  

In a panic, he carried the child into a nearby artificial cave to wait out the storm.  

With such heavy rain, there was no longer any need to debate returning the imperial sister. Even with his limited knowledge, the young man understood that newborns were fragile—especially delicate girls like her. If she got soaked, she would surely catch a chill. He, strong as he was, sometimes fell ill from the cold, let alone this soft, tiny imperial sister.  

He disliked her, but he only meant to scare her—not make her sick.  

Regret gnawed at him. He shouldn’t have taken her out in the first place. Who knew how long this downpour would last? If it dragged on until the Qin Emperor finished court, he’d be in deep trouble.  

The longer he waited, the more his courage to return her faded, fearing his father’s wrath.  

Maybe… maybe he could secretly take her to his mother’s quarters?  

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.  

Meanwhile, chaos erupted in the Qin Emperor’s palace.  

The little princess was missing!  

The wet nurses and maids tasked with her care knelt on the ground, kowtowing until their foreheads bled, too terrified to weep. Trembling, they pleaded, “We—we were watching her the whole time!”  

“His Majesty forbade anyone from disturbing the little princess, so we stood guard outside…”  

Besides, the Emperor’s might shook the heavens, and his palace was heavily fortified. How could a sleeping princess simply vanish?  

Zhao Gao hadn’t arrived. His apprentice explained that the Chief Eunuch was bedridden with rheumatism and hadn’t risen since morning.  

The Qin Emperor flew into a rage, smashing two cups in succession. “Fetch Zhao Gao for me, now!” In his fury, he even forgot to use the imperial “We,” slipping into the crude speech of his military days.  

The Emperor’s wrath terrified the palace staff. Normally, he was intimidating enough—unapproachable, stern, and ill-tempered, his mere presence enough to make knees buckle.  

But never had he been this enraged.  

For the first time, the servants realized what true imperial fury looked like. He resembled a savage beast, poised to lash out and tear into flesh at any moment.  

The Emperor’s usual sternness stemmed from his imposing aura, but this—this was raw terror, chilling them to the bone.  

Before Zhao Gao could arrive, the Qin Emperor ordered the captain of the guards to conduct a full-scale search of the palace. “Leave no stone unturned.”  

The captain hesitated. “The residences of the Madams in the rear palace…”  

The Emperor’s expression darkened. “Search them.”  

“Anyone who resists—arrest them on the spot.”  

Not content with delegating, the Emperor personally led a squad of close attendants out of his palace in a whirlwind of urgency. A bolder maid dared to call after him, “Your Majesty, it’s raining—please be careful—”  

Her words died in her throat as the man whirled around, his bloodshot eyes blazing with murderous intent. The maid’s legs gave out on the spot.  

Too ambitious for her own good, her life as fragile as paper.  

The captain of the guards signaled for his men to drag her away, shrugging indifferently before continuing the search for the little princess.  

Huhai waited barely half an hour before his patience ran out.

So much time had passed, and the longer he waited, the more it felt like an eternity. The thought of his father discovering the Little Imperial Sister’s disappearance—or worse, if he were to return her now and get caught red-handed by the emperor—would be nothing short of a human tragedy.  

The young man grew increasingly anxious, his fists clenched in fear. He struggled to keep his expression composed, not wanting the Little Imperial Sister to notice. How could someone as strong as him be afraid?  

After a while, he looked down at the milk dumpling in his arms and said, “Stop crying. I’ll take you to Mother and have her give you some milk.”  

Without waiting for the Little Dragon Cub’s reaction, he took off his outer robe, draped it over himself and the child, and dashed out. His mother’s palace wasn’t far—if he ran fast enough, they wouldn’t get soaked by the rain.  

Madam Yu was quietly brewing tea by herself while her maids and the elderly matron chatted idly beside her. The topic had just turned to the recently celebrated little princess.  

The matron sounded concerned. “It’s been so long since the palace had a new addition. It’s only natural His Majesty is overjoyed. Please don’t take it to heart, Madam.”  

The younger maid, however, couldn’t hide her resentment. “I’ve never heard of His Majesty doting on a little princess like this before. Even our young master never received such treatment.”  

“And to think she was taken straight to the palace to be raised right after birth. Consort Lian really died at the perfect time.”  

Madam Yu finally looked up, glaring at the maid. “Mind your words. The dead should be respected. How can you speak so carelessly?”  

The woman had always been gentle, and after having Huhai, she had grown even softer. She sighed. “Matron, don’t worry. I bear no resentment. That child has lost her mother—she’s pitiable. If she has caught His Majesty’s eye, then it’s her good fortune.”  

Speaking of the little princess reminded her of her own mischievous son. Madam Yu asked, “Has anyone seen the young master? I heard the academy was on break today. Where has he run off to this early?”  

The matron hesitated. “The young master ate three large buns this morning and stormed off as if he was going to pick a fight with someone.”  

Madam Yu frowned.  

The matron quickly reassured her, “Don’t worry, Madam. It’s probably just those troublesome classmates of his—mostly the sons of ministers. They’ll surely yield to the young master.”  

Madam Yu’s frown deepened. Just as she was about to say something, the palace doors burst open, letting in a gust of cold wind.  

A young man stood at the entrance, dressed in eunuch robes but stripped down to his inner garments. The outer robe he had used to shield himself was now completely drenched. He tossed the rain-soaked garment aside, revealing his dripping wet hair, and called out, “Mother!”  

Madam Yu was stunned. “Come in quickly! Where have you been to get soaked like this? And why are you dressed like this?”  

Before she could worry about whether her son had gotten into trouble again, she hurriedly ordered someone to prepare ginger soup and personally went to wipe his face.  

Only when she got closer did she notice the lump in his arms—something was bundled up inside.  

And then she heard it—the intermittent sound of sobbing. It sounded like… a baby crying.  

Madam Yu stared in shock as the boy lifted the blanket, revealing the face of the Little Imperial Sister.  

Huhai grinned sheepishly. “Mother, don’t you always say how nice it would be to have a daughter? And that I’m too unruly? Well, I stole a little sister for you to raise. Aren’t you happy?”  

Madam Yu: “…”  

Behind her, the old matron froze on the spot, nearly collapsing to the floor.

Upon closer inspection, the infant was clothed in fabric adorned with dragon patterns—exclusive to His Majesty! Only the Emperor could wear such material in all the land. Given the rumors that the Emperor and the little princess ate and slept together, it wasn’t surprising that palace maids had casually used his fabric to make tiny garments for her.

Madam Yu’s eyes weren’t as sharp as the old nursemaid’s, so she couldn’t immediately connect the dots about the princess being raised in the Emperor’s palace. Instead, she gasped in shock and asked her son where he had “stolen” this child from.

“Look at you, so protective! Since when did you learn to cherish the young?” she teased. “You’re drenched from the rain, yet you shielded this little sister perfectly.”

Huhai, too, believed it was his own doing and proudly lifted his chin. But just then, the Little Imperial Sister in his arms began crying again. Outside, thunder rumbled once more, snapping him back to reality—and with it, his earlier panic returned. He tugged at his mother’s sleeve pleadingly, “Mother, help me take care of her for a few days!”

Raising a child wasn’t impossible, but there had to be a proper arrangement. How could she just accept a child her son had inexplicably brought home without knowing her origins? What about her parents and family—wouldn’t they worry?

Moreover, this was the imperial palace, not some commoner’s home. How could a consort privately raise a child of unknown background?

Knowing full well how reckless her son could be, Madam Yu narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “First, tell me—where did this child come from?”

“And don’t you dare lie.”

The young prince hesitated for a long while before finally caving under his mother’s piercing gaze. Guiltily, he mumbled, “She’s… she’s… Father’s child.”

Madam Yu was about to ask which of the Emperor’s children she was, but the words died on her lips. A child this young could only be the one raised in His Majesty’s own palace…

Madam Yu: “…!”

Her eyes widened in shock. She stopped wiping her son’s face, feeling as if boiling blood had rushed to her head, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.

This wasn’t just a child her son had brought for her to raise—it was a blade pressed to her throat, asking her how she’d prefer to die.

The palace maids and nursemaids in the hall trembled, their legs weak with fear. One naive maid, still oblivious, blurted out, “What’s the fuss? She’s just a princess, and our young master is a prince!”

The old nursemaid shot her a glare. “Princesses may be common and insignificant elsewhere, but one raised in His Majesty’s palace outranks even ordinary princes.”

The shrewd old nursemaid had been the first to realize this was the little princess from the Emperor’s palace—and also the first to despair. Regaining her composure, she urgently advised Madam Yu to return the child immediately.

“She’s a burning hot potato! Send her back at once before His Majesty’s wrath falls upon us.”

Madam Yu, grasping at this lifeline, nodded fervently. She smacked her son’s cheek twice. “Go bathe and change, then come with me to confess to your father.”

The old nursemaid shook her head. “No, Madam. Have the young master bound and delivered to His Majesty’s palace.”

At Madam Yu’s puzzled look, she sighed. “You know His Majesty’s temperament. Would he tolerate even a single hair being harmed on those under his protection? Let alone his own flesh and blood—the little princess of Great Qin!”

The mere thought of the Emperor’s towering, icy figure made Madam Yu shiver. She feared that man more than anything, usually trembling in his presence, her words stumbling so badly she opted for silence to appear composed. She had never provoked his anger—how could she even imagine what his fury would look like?

The image of a raging beast flashed through her mind, and Madam Yu’s vision darkened. She was about to order the maids to fetch rope when the palace doors burst open once more.

A large group of armed guards rushed in, their leader kicking the palace doors open with force. Once inside, they split into two rows, their gleaming broadswords hanging at their waists, the reflections dazzling and unsettling.

A tall man strode in through the wind and rain, his dark robes dripping with water. Step by step, he advanced forward. The child in the youth’s arms wailed even more pitifully, as if recognizing the newcomer, and even stretched out a tiny hand, waving desperately as if afraid of being unseen.

The man quickened his pace, his face darkening further at the sound of the child’s breathless sobs.

The youth, with his back to the palace doors, hadn’t noticed the figure behind him. Puzzled, he turned his head and muttered, “Why did it suddenly get so cold? Did someone leave the doors open…?”

His words trailed off as his eyes widened in shock.

“F-Father?!”