Qu Dubian had something on his mind, appearing distracted while playing with Zhiyi at Shunning Palace in the afternoon.
According to his thinking, both the Sword-Bearing Marquis's household and himself should keep a low profile. His outward display of disinterest and even dislike towards his maternal grandmother was to cooperate with the Marquis household's current stance, planting a seed subconsciously in his dog-father's mind.
As for his maternal grandfather, he should just stay quietly in the Northern Frontier.
If his maternal grandfather truly harbored thoughts of supporting a prince to seize power, he would go and persuade him to give it up. Which path to seizing power in history wasn't filled with slaughter and bloodshed?
With a modern person's soul, how could he handle the work of killing? At most, he could only act in self-defense.
If there was no such intention, that would be even better, saving him the trouble of persuasion.
But regardless of which scenario, his maternal grandfather shouldn't be returning now.
Without an imperial decree, for a Northern Frontier commander to request to return to the capital to report on his duties, just like any other official, had a somewhat provocative flavor to it.
His cheap father, such a petty-minded person, must have been thinking all sorts of things when he agreed to his maternal grandfather's return.
Imperial Consort Xuan said, "Why the long face this afternoon? Aren't you happy your maternal grandfather is returning?"
Qu Dubian: "Consort Xuan, should I be happy?"
If things go wrong, what happens to our little happy family?
Imperial Consort Xuan didn't know that at his young age, his little head was filled with so many twists and turns of thought, all dark speculations about imperial power.
She herself wasn't that worried. Her greater concern about the Sword-Bearing Marquis's return to the capital was because, once she formally became Qu Dubian's guardian, the Xie and Xu families would be implicitly tied together.
She didn't explain these things to Qu Dubian.
"These are all matters for adults. No matter what happens, the adults will bear the burden." Imperial Consort Xuan patted his head, then suddenly laughed, pushing her thumb between his brows. "Such a little person, why are you frowning?"
Qu Dubian's eyes curved: "Hehe."
Imperial Consort Xuan: "In a few days, I'll make you a pair of gloves. I met your maternal grandfather a few times before I entered the Prince's mansion. Your mother spent most of her time at the frontier. By the time she entered the palace, I had long been out of sight at Shunning Palace, so I never had the chance to know her."
Qu Dubian propped his head in his hands, listening attentively.
"Your maternal grandfather's temperament is very straightforward and his temper is hard, but he doted on your mother and maternal grandmother, only compromising for their sake. It's said that before your mother entered the palace, he had a big fight with His Majesty. The reason isn't clear, but it didn't affect his relationship with your mother."
"If the two of them meet again, if you're present, you can try to mediate."
Qu Dubian sighed: "I also have to act as a firefighter."
Imperial Consort Xuan smiled: "This little one always comes out with such fresh words."
"Oh, Consort Xuan, this is for you," Qu Dubian took out strawberry seeds from his pocket. "Some strange plants grew in the corner of Ju'an Hall before. I saved the seeds. Would you like to try planting them?"
"They might grow up to be very delicious."
A few tiny seeds, which Qu Dubian held quite carefully.
If they got damaged, he'd have to spend lifespan points to buy more, such a loss. If these strawberry seeds yield good results, they'll be the ancestors of all strawberries in the Great Zhou dynasty.
Imperial Consort Xuan was quite intrigued and accepted them properly. Over the years, she had planted vegetables, flowers, and fruits, gaining considerable experience in cultivation, and she also enjoyed raising exotic plants and flowers.
Ju'an Hall was rarely cleaned; it's possible some bird really did bring something new from afar.
"Consort Xuan will plant them carefully. Now, shall we go for dinner?"
Qu Dubian stood up and patted his bottom, "Let's go!"
-
Night fell.
Qu Dubian's little dog cart stopped at the Zichen Hall terminal station.
He climbed over the threshold and slipped inside, secretly peeking from behind the screen at Emperor Chongzhao, who was reviewing memorials at the desk.
The latter's expression was calm, not revealing a hint of emotion.
Emperor Chongzhao flipped a memorial and said mildly, "Back from your wild adventures? The one who was sick a few days ago wasn't you, was it?"
Qu Dubian: "..."
He stealthily straightened up.
"Not talking? So you do know to feel guilty."
Emperor Chongzhao snorted coldly, stood up, walked the few steps to his young son, and lifted him up in one motion.
"It just snowed. Some palace paths still have snow that hasn't been cleared, and you go out roaming around in your broken cart. Who was it that was burning with fever a few days ago, delirious and dancing on the bed? Do I need to name names? Look at all this stuff you've got on you."
Emperor Chongzhao frowned, leaning closer for a look, and with his other hand pinched something black: "Dog hair??"
Then he plucked something from his hat: "Petal?"
"You even went to the Imperial Garden? Or perhaps the greenhouse." He slapped his bottom. "Covered in dust!"
Qu Dubian indignantly covered his buttocks.
How annoying! When he grows up a bit, the old man will be old. Let's see if he still dares to do this then!
"I wore a hat, dressed warmly, I won't catch a cold."
Emperor Chongzhao completely ignored what he said. After finishing his assessment of the dirty spots on Qu Dubian, he declared, "Since you're this dirty, you'll take a bath with me."
"...?"
Qu Dubian immediately began flailing in mid-air, all four limbs paddling, "No!!"
Seeing his little face scrunch up, Emperor Chongzhao finally regained a bit of a sense of achievement from bullying his young son, venting some of the anger from the little rascal biting him.
Satisfied, he tucked Qu Dubian under his arm.
"Attendants, prepare the water."
-
The father and son's bath time lasted for an hour.
The insulation was extremely well done; the underfloor heating made people inside feel stifled and flushed.
Qu Dubian splashed water fiercely. Emperor Chongzhao choked several times and retaliated. Looking at his young son's drowned rat appearance, he laughed heartily.
He didn't seem angry at all, and didn't mention a single word about his maternal grandfather's return to the capital.
Qu Dubian dried his hair, changed into new sleeping clothes, sat cross-legged on the bed clean and refreshed, appearing to be daydreaming but actually reading a novel in his mind.
Emperor Chongzhao: "Going over there to eat every day, do you really like Imperial Consort Xuan that much?"
Qu Dubian returned to the present: "Yes."
"If you only like the food made by Lady Guo, I can have her send some over for you daily."
"No, I like being there."
Emperor Chongzhao asked: "Compared to Zichen Hall, do you still prefer Shunning Palace more?"
"..."
This wasn't really asking which palace he preferred; it was clearly comparing himself to Consort Xuan and making him choose one.
Qu Dubian rolled his eyes inwardly. Even if he chose Zichen Hall, could his cheap father really keep him by his side all the time?
Choosing either one wouldn't do.
Qu Dubian: "Father, I have never seen my mother, but I really wish to have a mother."
"Even if she might hit you in the future?"
Qu Dubian argued: "Consort Xuan is so gentle!!"
Emperor Chongzhao chuckled, not commenting on his assessment.
Then he pulled up the blanket to cover him. "I just wanted to confirm. Sleep now."
Time passed slowly. Qu Dubian pondered the last sentence Emperor Chongzhao said. Did it mean he agreed to his choice of Imperial Consort Xuan? Why not give a definite answer?
Was there any connection between asking him this and his maternal grandfather's return to the capital?
He thought too much and couldn't sleep. He flipped through the novel but couldn't get into it, so he decided to delve into studying the "Art of Extending Longevity: First Volume."
The first sentence described exactly the path that Yi Twelve had traced today between his brow, sternum, and dantian.
Qu Dubian compared the diagram of qi circulation, closing his eyes to seek the sensation he had felt that afternoon.
He didn't know how much time had passed when a mysterious, elusive itch appeared on his forehead. A hint of warmth emerged there and, uncontrolled, began to drill downward, skimming past his breastbone and dantian—
The child under the covers wriggled.
He covered his stomach and began to pass gas.
Qu Dubian: "..."
His ears secretly turned red.
Refusing to believe it was futile, he tried again, with the same result as before.
Qu Dubian shifted his position, stuck his bottom out, moving his posterior from his own quilt into his cheap father's quilt. Ensuring the gas bombs had transferred, he set his mind at ease and began repeated attempts.
Emperor Chongzhao slowly opened his eyes.
His legs were being assaulted by waves of warm air.
After identifying the culprit, he was nearly amused with anger. All the boy's cleverness was spent on these sneaky, mischievous schemes.
He gritted his teeth quietly. "Qu Xiaoqi..."
Qu Dubian didn't even turn his head, pretending nothing had happened.
He was asleep.
After this quiet threat, Qu Dubian heard no further movement. Thinking that was the end of it, his ears twitched, and he secretly began to shift his bottom back out of his cheap father's quilt.
Unexpectedly, the moment he moved, a large hand fished him out from under the covers.
Emperor Chongzhao directly tucked him into his own quilt, pressing the little son's back against his own chest.
A warm palm landed on Qu Dubian's stomach and even gave it a gentle rub.
Perhaps drowsy, Emperor Chongzhao's voice was low and slightly hoarse. "If you got cold during the bath earlier, why didn't you say so? I would have just had them add more charcoal."
"I know you're not asleep, you little rascal. Should I have someone bring in a hot water bottle?"
Qu Dubian was taken aback.
Belatedly, he realized his cheap father seemed to think his flatulence was due to catching a chill during the bath earlier.
He curled up a little. "...No need."
"Don't get sick. I don't like it when you're sick. Taking care of you is a great nuisance."
Qu Dubian didn't make a sound.
After a while, he offered another complimentary burst of air.
There was no reaction from behind. Listening carefully to the breathing, he felt his cheap father must have fallen asleep, as he still had court to attend tomorrow.
Qu Dubian opened his eyes. At first, his emotions were complex, but they soon cleared and grew calm again.
The dependence and closeness he displayed towards his cheap father were not pure or simple.
That he could act convincingly enough for his cheap father to believe, pity, and gradually reach this point was really just taking advantage of his age and the memory of his birth mother.
Many people read storybooks, feel exasperated at the protagonists or supporting characters, and discuss with friends how they would have acted differently if it were them.
But for the audience, the story is just temporary entertainment. For the characters within the storybook, it is the reality they live day by day.
Some people, in acting, truly become the character in the play.
But Qu Dubian constantly reminded himself.
He could allow himself to offer familial affection to others, but never to the emperor.
Power can distort a person. Later history is filled with countless lessons. Perhaps the warmth shown just now was genuine. Perhaps the father-son affection gradually developed through daily interaction was genuine. But how many moments of such affection, tainted by power, are completely sincere?
Those who completely believe in an emperor's familial love are the truly naive ones.
