chapter 17

Chapter 17: Not Too Demanding

Summer was grueling.

In June, Shen He hadn't yet grasped the gravity of the situation.

By late July, when the scorching waves of heat in the air felt like they could peel off a layer of one's skin, Shen He was in despair.

Being so young, he wasn't allowed a cooling mat on his bed, out of fear it might give him a chill.

They didn't let him consume anything chilled either.

Wearing pristine inner robes, Shen He sat on the small couch, no longer in the mood to be close to the male lead.

The heat seemed to rob him of his spirit. He stared blankly, gazing longingly at the chilled plum soup in the male lead's hand.

A little whimper escaped him. Why couldn’t he have a sip?

Days without air conditioning were unbearable!

Lian Qiao did fan Shen He with a handheld fan.

But the breeze it provided was tepid at best. She herself was heated to the point her temples were damp.

He Ling set aside a small bowl on the side table, allowing Shen He to hold and sip from it.

Of course, he had his own plum soup, but he wasn't allowed the chilled version.

The young prince touched the moist nape of the child's neck, dabbing it gently with a cloth, and whispered, "Be patient, He He. Next summer, I’ll take you to the summer retreat."

Indeed, the entire court had followed the emperor to the summer retreat.

Only the young prince and a few other less favored or less significant individuals remained in the capital.

Some believed this indicated the emperor's disfavor towards the young prince, while others saw it as a test.

Regardless of the emperor’s true intentions, for Qi Zhuo Yun, it was an opportunity not to be missed.

Shen He weakly finished the plum soup in his bowl, then turned his back to the male lead and lay down on the small table.

The heat sapped all energy, making him just want to sleep.

Life in ancient times was so challenging.

Shen He wracked his brain. Although he couldn’t make things like glass or soap, he realized he had knowledge of other things.

It seemed when the need arose, memories surfaced.

Although he couldn't make an electric fan, hand-cranked fans existed before the advent of electricity.

Shen He felt invigorated!

He glanced at his chubby little hands, then down at his protruding, round belly, and further down to his short legs.

Shen He slumped again.

Mere thoughts weren’t enough. He wouldn’t have the means to execute these ideas for at least a decade.

Tears fell as Shen He lamented his adorable yet presently useless physique.

Perhaps it was Shen He's constant movements, getting up then lying down, that caught the young prince's attention.

With a swift motion, the prince cradled Shen He into his arms and carried him to the study.

The imperial palace was always well-stocked with ice.

The Eastern Palace was no exception.

Several basins of ice were placed in the prince's study. Upon bringing Shen He there, additional ice was delivered as well.

The prince settled the child next to the writing table, handed him a beginner's brush, soaked it in ink, removed the excess, and spread out a sheet of rice paper, allowing him to doodle freely.

Surrounded by the coolness of the ice, Shen He felt relief, becoming more spirited.

Nestling beside the young prince, he held onto the brush and began scribbling at random.

It was good to practice his hand's flexibility, making any future artwork easier.

In many ways, Shen He was a homebody with dreams of becoming an artist.

Bored out of his mind, the opportunity now presented itself.

He started sketching whimsically.

This newfound interest waned after doing the same activity for three consecutive days.

Shen He lay beside the prince, casting the brush aside, too lethargic to continue.

He didn’t dare to draw anything serious, but doodling every day required a certain finesse.

The prince bent down, pinching the child's soft cheek. The little eyes sparkled in response.

Those wet and radiant eyes fixated on him, reminiscent of a lively kitten.

The child reached out with pudgy fingers, tugging at Qi Zhuo Yun's robe, and adorably uttered, "Brother!"

The corners of the prince's lips curved gently. Every time he heard the child's voice, his face lit up with joy.

The little bundle climbed onto his lap, grasping his hand with soft, stubby fingers, turning his head to reveal bright eyes that begged for a kiss, he eagerly exclaimed, "Brother!"

He shook the hand holding the brush, pointing at the rice paper, clearly eager to convey something.

Qi Zhuo Yun had been advised by Zhong Hong that for such a young child, it's essential to encourage him to initiate conversations, engage more, and eventually express himself.

He He was sharp, understanding most of their day-to-day conversations; he just needed the right moment to start speaking.

Patting the child's hair, the prince feigned ignorance, "What? Do you want Brother to give you the brush?"

Shen He was on the verge of speaking out of sheer urgency!

"Why have you suddenly become so dense when you're usually so sharp-witted?"

Bored, Shen He began calculating how long it had been since he last clung to the male lead's leg, realizing he hadn't actively pursued that "venture" for some time.

That simply wouldn't do.

At his first birthday banquet, the first words he spoke were to call out to the crown prince.

If he was to learn writing, naturally he'd start with the male lead's name!

The male lead's name is quite challenging; it's simpler to just write "Prince Brother."

Two of the characters are the same, hehe. He's quite the clever one.

However, the challenge now clearly lies at the first step.

How can the protagonist understand his intent and teach him to write?

The child wrapped both of his hands around Qi Zhuoyun's right hand, his belly pressed against the edge of the table, forcing down the man's hand, signaling him to write.

Meanwhile, his tiny mouth babbled with a babyish tone, "Brother, mhm, brother!"

The young prince tried hard not to burst into laughter.

He looked puzzled, "What does Hehe want to do? This pen is not for play. Why not play with the little brush instead?"

Saying so, he handed Shen He the small brush pen he had played with a couple of days earlier.

The child immediately tossed the pen aside.

Naturally, it didn't go far, not even off the table.

A hint of Shen He's temper surfaced, and his courage soared.

He turned his chubby little body, climbed up using the prince's robe, and finally hung onto the prince's collar, shouting angrily into the prince's ear with his babyish voice, "Write!"

The young prince, supporting the child's bottom, couldn't hold back his laughter, "Our Hehe is so smart, even knowing the word 'write' now."

The young prince, with his still boyish voice, said, "Does Hehe want to write the word 'brother'? Brother will teach you. Such a clever boy, in just another half year, you'll be speaking fluently. I'll teach you reading and writing then. How about becoming the top scholar in the future?"

Shen He: "…?"

Seems like he's been outsmarted.

Not sure, better keep observing.

The once very angry little dumpling sat on Qi Zhuoyun's lap, staring up at him with wide eyes.

His delicate eyebrows raised, as if in astonishment.

Qi Zhuoyun gazed at his porcelain-like childlike appearance and pinched his tiny nose. "Hehe looks just like a little girl. When he comes of age, he could very well be the top scholar of the kingdom, parading through the streets, undeniably the most handsome of all scholars."

Only after a moment did Shen He understand the implications.

Isn't this like telling a one-year-old, "Darling, your mom and dad have already decided what you'll wear to Tsinghua University"?

To the male lead, "Your intelligence and wit should be used against your enemies, influencing the court, not fussing over a toddler barely past his first birthday!"

Let whoever wants to read this book read it; he won't. sobs

He just wants to coast through life and retire in twenty years.

The child swiftly turned away, presenting his back to the young prince.

And attempted to wriggle out of his embrace.

The young prince reached out, pulled him back, and placed his special little brush in his chubby hand, guiding it onto the table, "Big brother will teach you how to write."

Shen He: [soulless.jpg]

Tears welled up in his eyes as he was forcefully thrust into the situation by the male lead.

Regretting his discontent from a few minutes ago.

Who's ever eager to work?

If you can laze around, why rush into work?

The young prince taught him with great dedication, holding the child's chubby hand, stroke by stroke, writing slowly.

The young prince was typically reserved, and after facing a significant change, his demeanor became even more cold and detached.

Although mostly a man of few words, when holding the child, he'd chatter incessantly, "Hehe, you must practice your writing diligently in the future. One's writing reflects one's character. As they say, to see one's writing is to see the person. Through writing, one can see a person's integrity and also use it to cultivate one's temperament."

He said, "First master regular script, then develop your style. I'll acquire masterpieces for you to emulate in time..."

The child responded in a babyish tone, "Ah ah!"

His chubby hand allowed itself to be held without resistance.

The young prince was quite pleased with this, continuing his monologue, "Let's start with my writing. It lacks any notable style but is good for emulation. Grow up fast, learn to write, and then I'll rewrite a 'Thousand Character Classic' for you."

Shen He: "Enough, enough, master."

He's going to cry if you keep going.

He had just taken his college entrance exam a year ago, hadn't even started university, and now he has to start all over.

Who can endure this?

The little dumpling, tears in his eyes, was made to study writing under the watchful gaze of a guardian set on making him a top scholar.

One year and fifty-nine days into school age.

Qi Zhuoyun didn't truly expect such a young child to learn how to write.

This year, he had learned a lot about how children grow by following Zhong Hong and the nursemaid who took care of Shen He.

Typically, children start speaking at a little over a year old, only forming fluent sentences by three, beginning to recognize numbers around the same age, and truly understanding characters and the 'Thousand Character Classic' around four or five.

Of course, this usually just means recognizing characters. Understanding their deeper meanings is often beyond such young children.

However, some exceptionally gifted children can recognize and understand texts at a younger age.

Qi Zhuoyun was one such example.

He believed the child he raised should be like him.

Even more astute than his younger siblings.

He could recite the entire 'Thousand Character Classic' by three, memorize the full content by four, and by five, he started reading books typically reserved for children in their early teens.

He didn't have such high expectations for Shen He; merely hoping he could remember the entire 'Thousand Character Classic' by five and be able to recite it by six.

He believed Shen He could achieve this.