[Day n of craving hotpot, skewers, spicy hotpot, snail rice noodles, fried chicken, barbecue, crayfish…!]
Ying Changle lay in Mother’s arms, clutching a little golden-tiger bottle as he drank the rich fresh milk the wet nurse had just expressed.
Although this infant body thought milk was acceptable enough, he still couldn’t help missing all the delicacies from his previous life.
Outside, heavy snow whispered down while the north wind howled, but the underfloor heating burned fiercely indoors, making the room as warm as spring. Mother’s embrace was fragrant and soft. There was only one tiny imperfection—
[On a snowy day like this, eating a steaming hotpot in a heated room, then finishing with an ice pop—I wouldn’t trade that for immortality!]
Yu Huan shook her head helplessly. That voice again.
This rotten brat must have been sent by Heaven to punish her for killing too many people. His mouth never moved, yet she could hear everything the brat thought, and he was always thinking about things none of them had ever heard of.
She pinched her son’s plump little cheek and feigned anger.
“Your tastes are far too picky. The old nannies all say young children shouldn’t eat too many different things. Last time Mother saw you drooling with greed and fed you a little roasted venison, you were sick for days…”
Of course he knew he couldn’t eat recklessly. With ancient medical care like this, being ill was genuine torture. The bitter traditional medicines alone were enough to leave him traumatized!
Yu Huan sighed. “The kitchen makes cheese curds, minced meat, steamed egg custard, and all sorts of other dishes in new ways every day. None of that suits your taste either?”
[Folks, who understands? Baby food really is awful. It doesn’t matter how beautifully it’s made; the main problem is that it has basically no flavor!]
He had transmigrated into this body before birth and was already over three years old. He could tolerate most things, but he still couldn’t adapt to the daily life of being a small child.
[All I do every day is drink milk and sleep. It’s so boring!]
Yu Huan steadied the golden-tiger milk bottle with one hand while holding a handwritten copy of The Essential Guide to Raising Little Ale in the other. She said sternly, “Brat, you must drink your milk. Your father’s book says that at the start of the Dragon Hour every day you must take…”
His father usually looked after him, while Mother had absolutely no experience, so Father had written down all the precautions for caring for him in a book. It was very well written, aside from the part where it insisted on forcing all kinds of baby food into him.
Hoping to drink a little less milk, he instinctively rubbed his face against the back of Mother’s hand, where several deep knife scars ran across the skin.
Yu Huan was the female general known in enemy kingdoms as the “Jade-Faced God of Slaughter,” and her old wounds were beyond counting.
Because she was addicted to killing and extraordinarily cruel in her methods, the name Yu Huan truly had the miraculous effect of “stopping babies from crying at night” in enemy lands!
Yu Huan was not only a battle-hardened killer but also possessed beauty capable of toppling kingdoms. She truly fit the description “a gentle face with a heroic heart, beauty in both voice and form.” Because she was too beautiful to intimidate enemies, she wore a gilded mask with a blue demon face and protruding fangs whenever she went into battle.
Ying Changle worshipped his mother. He thought she was basically a gender-swapped Prince of Lanling. She might be a little fierce, but she was so amazing!
Unfortunately, Mother had no idea how to coax a child and never played with him. He was truly bored, so he started poking through his “Gossip System” again for entertainment, checking whether anything explosive had happened in the capital recently.
[Hahahahahahaha, that lousy chess player the Emperor lost to Prince Jing yet again! He got mad and made up an excuse to scold Prince Jing afterward. Terrible at the game, loves playing anyway, and can’t stand losing. Bro, if you suck, practice more!]
[Oh! That henpecked Vice Minister of Rites got punished by his wife again last night and had to kneel on a washboard! All because he drank a few extra cups with colleagues after court and missed curfew. Hahahahahaha, he has it even worse than Father. Mother only makes Father stand as punishment.]
[Huh? There’s gossip about Father too. Last night, the Marquis of Xuanping…]
Yu Huan had been listening with great interest. She hurriedly pulled a little toy from her robes and said,
“What rubbish book? If Ale doesn’t want to drink, then he doesn’t have to. Mother will teach you how to play with knives. This was the weapon Mother used the first time she went into battle. I had a craftsman make a smaller one just like it for you. Do you like it…?”
Ying Changle froze at once. The little golden knife gleamed coldly right beside his neck, and its edge looked sharp enough to slice his head clean off!
[Aaaaah, Mother! I know only those who survive are qualified to be your children, but I’m just drinking milk. There’s no need to pull a knife on me! I’ll drink, I’ll drink, okay?! Stupid mouth, swallow already!]
“Little rascal, don’t drink so fast. What if you choke?”
The knife scared Ying Changle badly, but he quickly stopped being afraid. He was already used to the fact that no one in his family was normal.
Mother was bloodthirsty. Father had once been a founding marquis accomplished in both civil and military affairs, but he had now become the most feared ruthless official in the entire court. His methods of tormenting prisoners made even the infamous imperial prison admit defeat. In private, the whole court said they would rather descend to the eighteenth level of hell than fall into the hands of the Marquis of Xuanping.
…
In short, his family filled the standard role of the great treacherous villains in a television drama: every member wicked, their achievements threatening the throne, their conduct arrogant and domineering, their brilliance impossible to conceal. The odds that they would one day win the grand prize of “nine-clan elimination” were as high as ninety-nine percent.
Just then, an impatient scolding came from outside the outer door. “Little wretch, walk faster. What are you dawdling for? Once you’ve greeted your adoptive mother and little brother, get out and clean the stables. Think I can’t deal with you…?”
The heavy scarlet felt curtain was gently lifted by a maid standing outside.
The Marquis of Xuanping entered in purple court robes with a crane-feather cloak draped over his shoulders. The child following behind him wore only a thin set of coarse hemp clothes.
Ying Changle had already heard from Mother that before the New Year Father would be bringing home an adopted son, one the Emperor had forced him to accept.
He actually looked forward to having an adopted older brother to play with. His days were far too boring.
His adopted brother was covered in wounds. It was obvious his clothes had been changed before he arrived, yet blood still seeped through from the injuries, leaving glaring specks of red.
Given Father’s attributes as a grand treacherous minister, if someone forced an adopted son on him, he would definitely do everything possible to mistreat the boy and drive him away.
[What kind of skill is it to torture a child? Why don’t you dare argue with the Emperor, your boss, for forcing extra work on you?]
The Marquis of Xuanping coughed awkwardly.
Xiao Chengqi stared at the tiny child in swaddling clothes, disbelief written all over his face!
He thought his injuries must be so severe that he was hallucinating. How could such a small child possibly say such a long and complete sentence?
More importantly, the child’s mouth had never opened.
Wanting to see more clearly, he stared fixedly at him.
He hadn’t expected to become almost entranced. The little child truly looked sculpted from fine jade, so beautiful it was hard to look away.
The Ying family really were, just as rumor claimed, extraordinarily good-looking.
No wonder everyone said the prettier a member of the Ying family looked, the blacker their heart!
Yu Huan stroked her youngest son’s fair, rosy little face and frowned. “Our Ale dislikes the smell of blood. You should have treated his wounds before bringing him in.”
The Marquis of Xuanping did not come any farther inside. He stood before the large brazier in the middle of the room, warming the chill from his body, and smiled.
“He has to get used to it gradually. The snow is really coming down today. It’s piled up everywhere, and it’s bitterly cold.”
Then the Marquis of Xuanping turned a cold face toward his adopted son and snapped, “Why aren’t you kneeling? Pay respects to your adoptive mother and greet your little brother.”
Xiao Chengqi did not move at all. The Marquis of Xuanping kicked him down onto his knees, but he still held his neck stiffly and refused to bow his head.
The Marquis of Xuanping pointed at the young adopted son and berated him harshly, giving him vicious kicks from time to time.
Torture was what he was best at. Every kick landed on the part of the boy’s back where the whip wounds were worst.
The child, who had always been exceptionally good at enduring pain, curled up like a shrimp. He bit the inside of his mouth until it bled but still did not make a sound.
No matter how accustomed Ying Changle was to Father’s violence, even he could hardly bear to watch. He simply turned over, hid in Mother’s arms, and looked through the “Gossip System” to distract himself.
[What?! This adopted son is the illegitimate child of the Emperor and a Northern Di princess?!]
The Marquis of Xuanping’s viciously kicking foot stopped dead in midair. From forcibly pulling back his strength, his leg cramped and he nearly lost his balance.
Clang! The little golden knife Yu Huan had been toying with also fell to the floor.
Xiao Chengqi’s whole body went rigid as he stared at the infant who had buried his head in his mother’s arms.
The voice was soft and milky, something only a nursing child could produce. But how could such a young child know a secret this absolute?!
Only the Emperor knew of his origins. The Emperor despised the northern tribes, and Xiao Chengqi’s very existence tainted the imperial bloodline.
The gossip was too explosive. Ying Changle was completely absorbed in reading it.
[The princess assassinated her scumbag father, poisoned her wicked older brother, and became the ruler of Northern Di?!]
[Huh??? The Northern Di princess—no, the ruler of Northern Di—has already sent people to find her son?]
Ying Changle hurriedly turned around. Seeing his adopted brother lying on the floor covered in blood and looking as if he was about to die, he instantly let out a shrill scream in his mind.
[AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! He won’t die, will he?! If you kill him, in the future it won’t be nine clans getting exterminated—it’ll be ten. Even the ant nests at home will be scalded with boiling water, every egg will be shaken until the yolk breaks, and every earthworm will be split lengthwise!]
The Marquis of Xuanping froze for a moment, then immediately shouted, “Summon the imperial physicians! If this little wretch—no, if my beloved son—suffers so much as the slightest mishap, I’ll have every last one of you buried with him!”
[Huh? Why did Father suddenly get so anxious? My father’s conscience is hugely nonexistent. There’s no way he suddenly pities his adopted son. Then why? Is he afraid that if he beats to death the adopted son the Emperor forced on him, the Emperor will blame him?]
His adopted brother’s blood-smeared hands were clenched tightly around something. Just before he passed out, he glanced at Ying Changle, making him shudder!
Ying Changle was placed on the bed, though whoever set him down didn’t quite control the force and jostled him until his vision swam.
A powerful smell of blood washed over him. He turned his head and saw that Mother had already carried his adopted brother over and laid him beside him.
[Why is Mother suddenly being so nice to Adopted Brother too? If Father is a great villain, Mother is the living King of Hell. At least Father is afraid of the Emperor. Mother isn’t afraid of anyone. Even the Emperor gets a headache when he sees her…]
Marquis of Xuanping: Little ancestor, can’t you be quiet for a while? Your mother and the Northern Di princess once entrusted their lives to each other. She’s already this worried. If you keep agitating her, what kind of peaceful life will your father have left?
