Time in the palace always seemed to fly by.
The peach tree by the window of the Qianqing Palace West Warm Pavilion had bloomed and faded, then bloomed again; the plantain leaves had yellowed and greened, then yellowed once more.
Kangxi gazed out the window at the peach blossoms in full bloom, a small wooden lion so lifelike it seemed real held in his hand. The lion’s surface was polished to a glossy sheen, clearly from being frequently handled and rubbed.
On the desk before him, memorials lay half-reviewed and half-spread out. The vermilion brush rested on a black lacquer brush holder adorned with golden bat motifs, the cinnabar on its tip not yet dried.
A little eunuch serving tea approached with a teacup but was stopped by Zhao Chang, who stood guard outside.
Today, it was Zhao Chang’s turn to attend to the Emperor. Having served by Kangxi’s side since his youth, Zhao Chang was considered an old-timer in the imperial court. Seeing Kangxi like this, he knew the Emperor was troubled.
This preoccupation of Kangxi’s was not new.
Ever since he had seen Yinreng’s calligraphy in Yikun Palace a few months prior, his mind would often wander. Those nagging thoughts buzzed around him like irritating flies, impossible to swat away.
Most of the time, he was thinking about how his Baocheng had grown up and what he should do about it.
He cherished the sight of Yinreng obediently following his lead and relied on that very image, wishing desperately that his son would forever remain the little child whose eyes held only his Han Ama.
But what if one day, Yinreng started saying “no” to him?
Kangxi thought he probably wouldn’t be able to bear it.
At just thirteen years old, Yinreng already had his own unique insights. What would he be like in ten, twenty, or thirty years?
By then, Kangxi feared, his old bones would seem nothing but outdated and irrelevant in his son’s eyes.
Perhaps the court officials thought the same.
A young lion king would one day challenge and defeat the old lion king. The fate awaiting the old lion was either death or exile.
Such was the cruel nature of the animal kingdom.
And was the human world any different?
Kangxi tightened his grip on the small wooden lion.
The lion’s mane dug into his palm, helping him calm down slightly.
A father afraid of his own son growing up—such a notion would be laughable if spoken aloud.
This feeling was too private, too hidden, for even the Grand Empress Dowager to confide in. He could only digest it alone.
Sometimes he wondered: if Hesheli had not passed away so early, perhaps she would have soothed him with gentle words, calming the restlessness in his heart.
But while flowers may bloom again after withering and leaves regrow after falling, his departed wife would never again take his hand.
All she left behind was their Baocheng, who had depended on him all these years.
The beaded curtain chimed softly as a tall figure entered, a bushy white beard covering his chin particularly striking.
“Your Majesty.”
Nan Huairen held a geometry workbook in his hands.
Every other afternoon, Kangxi would summon him to study mathematics or learn about Western technology. According to the schedule, today was for geometry.
Kangxi merely lifted his eyelids slightly in acknowledgment.
Seeing the Emperor remain silent, Nan Huairen bowed and stood quietly to the side, book in hand.
Zhao Chang had already warned him that the Emperor was in low spirits. Having served the monarch for many years, Nan Huairen understood his temperament well.
The room fell into silence, broken only by the sound of wind rustling through the peach blossoms outside, petals drifting down in soft whispers.
After a long while, Kangxi spoke, his voice dry and hoarse: “Nan Huairen.”
“Your servant is here.”
Nan Huairen thought the Emperor had regained his composure and was ready to begin the lesson. After all, before any setback, he was always as vigorous as a lion. Unexpectedly, the Emperor posed a question that no one in this land had ever asked him before.
“You traveled alone across the vast ocean. Wouldn’t your father miss you?”
The usually aloof and inscrutable Emperor suddenly revealed a trace of vulnerability.
But to Nan Huairen, this was not a weakness in the Emperor; instead, it was like a crack quietly forming on a frozen river, caused by the water beneath warming but not yet fully thawed.
He looked at this still-young Emperor, his gaze carrying a subtle tenderness.
“Your Majesty, of course he would miss me.”
“If he misses you, why did he let you leave your homeland?”
Nan Huairen thought for a moment and replied, “Perhaps because, although my father was reluctant, he understood my aspirations even more.”
“But when he was gravely ill, before his passing, you were unable to fulfill your filial duties by his side. And in ordinary times when he missed you, you couldn’t bring him joy at his knee.”
The words sounded somewhat impolite, but Kangxi’s tone was earnest.
“Here, I am able to converse with Your Noble Majesty and witness customs and traditions different from my homeland. My father, upon hearing of this, would also be pleased.”
Kangxi fell silent.
He liked having Baocheng by his side at all times, at the very least, so that whenever he wished to see him, he could arrive promptly. If Baocheng couldn’t come immediately, he would feel anxious and irritable.
Yet it seemed other fathers were not like this.
After an unknown length of time, Kangxi finally looked up at him. “What about the eldest son? I recall you mentioning before that in your homeland, the eldest son must inherit the family estate.”
Nan Huairen stroked his graying beard and said, “Indeed, that is his duty. The father would also spare no effort to help him grow strong enough to take over the family legacy.”
“But if the eldest son becomes too powerful, wouldn’t your father worry that he might seize the family property before his father’s death?”
Nan Huairen vaguely understood the Emperor’s implication.
This topic was perilous—one improper response could anger the Emperor and cost him his head.
He carefully weighed whether to answer directly.
Fortunately, the Emperor was still young.
And he, Nan Huairen, was already over sixty, well past the age of knowing his destiny. Since the Emperor had asked, he would answer truthfully.
Nan Huairen said, “In my homeland, the eldest son must take over the family estate by the age of thirty at the latest. At that time, the eldest son is in his prime—full of energy and with an active mind. Even if he lacks some experience, with the assistance of his father, who steps back to support him, he can steadily manage the affairs.”
“Of course, this is the case for commoners like me. Among the nobility, the eldest son inherits even earlier.”
“Is that so.”
Kangxi murmured thoughtfully.
After speaking, Nan Huairen quietly stood to the side. The Emperor’s words seemed like a response but were actually spoken to himself. If he said more, it would be an interruption.
Kangxi rubbed the small lion figurine he had been toying with between his thumb and forefinger, then set it down on the table. His eyes gradually cleared.
“I understand.”
Kangxi stood up and said, “Master Nan, we will not study today. You may take your leave.”
Nan Huairen responded with a “Yes.”
Just as he lowered his eyes to prepare his departure, his gaze fell upon Kangxi’s desk, where there was an exquisitely carved wooden lion model.
Nan Huairen’s heart skipped a beat, and he unconsciously leaned closer to take a better look.
He was somewhat farsighted, unconsciously leaning his head close to the desk. Such a large movement caught Kangxi’s attention, and following Nan Huairen’s gaze, he spotted the small lion standing proudly and majestically on his desk.
Kangxi’s mood suddenly improved considerably, and his tone became much lighter.
“Mr. Nan, if you wish to look at it, feel free to hold it.”
Nan Huairen acknowledged with a “Yes,” then cradled the small lion in his palm, examining it closely before his eyes.
In his homeland of Europe, such small animal model toys were quite popular, mostly made of wood or cloth dolls. Although they existed here as well, they were more often crafted from metal, used for royal household items rather than as children’s playthings.
But whether in Europe or here, this was the first time he had seen such an exquisitely detailed, scientifically proportioned model—it even transcended being a mere children’s toy, resembling more of an educational tool.
To think the Imperial Workshop had such a skilled artisan; he must pay them a visit later.
Perhaps there could even be some collaboration in the future.
Seeing Nan Huairen unable to put it down, his gray beard trembling as it nearly brushed against the small lion, Kangxi couldn’t help but laugh. “This was supervised by the Ninth Prince.”
Noticing that Nan Huairen seemed to be recalling who the Ninth Prince was, he added, “It’s the same Ninth Prince who wanted to borrow your ‘Complete Map of the World’ last time.”
Nan Huairen remembered. A few months ago, he had heard that a Prince in the palace wanted the “Complete Map of the World.” Initially, he was quite pleased, thinking that finally, a Prince was interested in geography and nature—a good thing.
He had even considered that if the other party was willing, he could offer his expertise and answer any questions they might have while studying it.
But upon eagerly inquiring, he found out it was just a three-and-a-half-year-old child.
Recalling that when he was three years old, every book he handled ended up with missing pages, Nan Huairen felt this wasn’t a sign of studiousness but rather like throwing a meat bun at a dog—it would never come back.
So, he suggested that since this item was unique and precious, the Imperial Workshop should make a copy for the Ninth Prince.
Kangxi approved.
The Imperial Workshop dispatched ten artisans, spending two months to meticulously reproduce the “Complete Map of the World” and its inscriptions, which were then moved to the eastern side chamber of Yikun Palace.
Unexpectedly, the one who guided the Imperial Workshop in creating this small lion was that very “meat bun” thrown to the dog—no, that three-and-a-half-year-old toddler.
Nan Huairen looked at Kangxi. “Your Majesty, I have a request.”
“Mr. Nan, there’s no need for formalities. Please speak freely.”
“I would like to meet the Ninth Prince.”
In Yikun Palace.
Spring was at its finest. A wisteria trellis had been set up early in the courtyard, now blooming like a waterfall, with purple vines cascading at varying heights, swaying gently in the breeze.
Beneath the wisteria trellis was a small lounge chair, on which sat a delicate, jade-like little child.
The chair rocked gently as the little one, barefoot with tiny feet kicked high, gazed at the splendid spring scenery and sighed repeatedly.
This morning, Consort Yi had delivered some bad news.
In another six months, once he turned four, he would have to move to Consort Hui’s Yanxi Palace.
Although he had long known that, according to the palace’s inhumane rules, Princes couldn’t stay with their birth mothers as they grew up, and he was somewhat mentally prepared.
But, it was Yanxi Palace!
Although The Eldest Prince had moved to the A’ge Institute, he surely returned at least once a month, right?
And when he returned, everyone would have to happily share a meal together, wouldn’t they?
Thinking about being forced to dine monthly with the school bully, Yintang sighed once more.
“Brother, Ninth Brother!”
A little child came running toward him, shouting all the way, one small hand clutching his sleeve while the other grasped two animal hand puppets.
With Yinzhi scrambling on all fours and Yintang pulling and tugging, they finally managed to climb onto the lounge chair.
The wet nurse following behind watched with bated breath: “Oh, young master, do be careful!”
Yinzhi paid no mind, settling into Yintang’s lap and shaking the puppets at him: “Ninth Brother, let’s play together!”
Yintang looked at the puppets in his hand—one was a turtle, the other a rabbit.
It seemed Yinzhi wanted to hear the story of “The Tortoise and the Hare” today.
His dollhouse hadn’t officially opened yet, and he was still adding toys to it. Yinzhi, being the first to benefit from this proximity, had become his first customer. Nearly two years old, he was just at the age where he loved listening to stories, and his favorite activity was watching Yintang perform stories with hand puppets.
In this era, with increased missionary activity, Aesop’s Fables had begun circulating through various channels—including “The Tortoise and the Hare.”
When Nan Huairen entered, he saw two young children sitting intimately together on a lounge chair beneath a wisteria tree, playing.
Yintang was performing with both hands—his left hand wore a turtle puppet crawling slowly forward, while his right hand wore a rabbit puppet that leaped ahead of the turtle, then turned back to look at it and said triumphantly, “Oh my, why are you crawling so slowly? Never mind, I’ll take a nap first.”
One child was performing with earnest concentration, the other listening with rapt attention—neither noticed someone had entered.
Nan Huairen had been escorted in by Baofu. Liang Jiugong had delivered an edict earlier that morning announcing Nan Huairen’s visit to Yikun Palace today.
This was both a rare and honored guest.
Everyone knew Nan Huairen held extraordinary status before the Emperor—a single word from him might make the entire imperial harem tremble. Consort Yi didn’t dare neglect him, having instructed Baofu to wait at the entrance early.
Baofi wanted to step forward and alert the Ninth Prince, but Nan Huairen stopped him with a gentle shake of his head.
Thus he stood before the screen wall, listening as Yintang performed the entire story.
“This story teaches us that perseverance in tasks leads to success—even if one moves slowly, the goal can ultimately be reached.” Yintang’s fair little face wore a serious expression.
Yinzhi listened delightedly, clapping his hands and laughing.
Baofu hurriedly led Nan Huairen forward, saying: “Ninth Prince, Lord Nan has arrived.”
Lord Nan? What kind of title is that?
Yintang was baffled by the address. Looking up, he saw a tall man with prominent features, a high nose, deep-set eyes, and a full white beard, wearing official robes and standing erect in the courtyard.
A… a foreigner?
A breeze swept through, shaking wisteria blossoms loose in a fluttering cascade.
The man stood within a purple spring snowfall, with spring colors clinging to his hair, shoulders, even his beard. Yet he didn’t brush them away, instead bowing respectfully: “Your servant Nan Huairen, Director of the Imperial Observatory and Vice Minister of Works, pays his respects to the Ninth Prince.”
His words were reverent, his tone measured—neither speech nor manner showed any condescension despite addressing a child not yet four years old.
Yintang jolted.
Nan Huairen?!
The missionary who served as Kangxi’s science teacher, who created the Kunyu Quantu map—that Nan Huairen?!
The name was so thunderously famous that Yintang hurriedly handed the babbling little Yinzhi to the wet nurse, jumped down from the lounge chair, hastily put on his shoes, and rushed to stand before Nan Huairen.
In his haste, he stumbled midway, but fortunately regained his balance without falling.
Yintang stopped before Nan Huairen, straightened his clothes, and bowed with proper reverence: “Greetings, Lord Nan.”
Nan Huairen narrowed his eyes slightly, looking down at the Ninth Prince before him.
Though young, his demeanor and speech were appropriate, unlike the mischievous reputation that preceded him.
Nan Huairen couldn’t help but feel an increased fondness for the child.
The little one was small in stature, with delicate features, yet his eyes were large and bright, clear as gemstones under the sunlight.
Nan Huairen had to admit, this was the most beautiful child he had ever seen. Even more beautiful than the blue-eyed, golden-haired children of Europe, yet retaining an Eastern classical charm.
Was it this doll-like little child who had created that small lion?
Recalling the Emperor’s earlier praise of the Ninth Prince, he asked: “I’ve heard the Ninth Prince possesses an ant observation box. I am quite curious—might I have the honor of seeing it in detail?”
Yintang was surprised. Had this news reached even Nan Huairen’s ears?
After the “dog that wouldn’t bark” incident, his reputation for mischief was firmly established in the palace. He wondered if Nan Huairen had also heard these negative reports.
Though largely indifferent to most opinions in the palace, he didn’t wish to leave a bad impression on this legendary “Master Nan.”
With some trepidation, Yintang invited Nan Huairen into the side room.
The thought-provoking introduction, precise models, detailed illustrations, and most notably, the ant observation box itself—even the final amusing gift display—left the well-traveled Nan Huairen secretly impressed.
In his homeland, the upper class had embraced Wunderkammer-style collections and exhibitions, where wealthy nobles or merchants designed rooms specifically to display rare treasures from around the world, sometimes for public or private viewings.
But these remained mere displays of collected items, lacking innovative annotations or models to help visitors better understand the exhibits. Even the collectors themselves often had only superficial knowledge of these objects.
He never expected that in the distant East, within a small side room, a three-and-a-half-year-old child could independently orchestrate such an impressive exhibition.
Were it not for concern that the child might find him peculiar, he would have nearly applauded.
Nan Huairen’s gaze finally settled on a row of small animal models on the toy shelf.
They shared the exact same style as the small lion on the Emperor’s desk.
Seeing was believing. Nan Huairen finally became certain that these were indeed the handiwork of the little child before him.
“Lord Nan, the exhibition ends here,” a childish, innocent voice announced.
Nan Huairen nodded and followed the little one out of the side room.
Yintang led Nan Huairen to the stone table beneath the flower trellis, instructed Lian Zhu to prepare tea, and personally brushed off the fallen wisteria petals from the table.
The child was already small in stature, and his earnest tip-toed wiping of the table struck Nan Huairen as utterly endearing.
When he had first bid farewell to his family and come here alone, he had no relatives, no wife, no children. But seeing this clever, adorable child with his polite manners, he couldn’t help but grow increasingly fond, even entertaining a bold idea.
Why not personally teach him natural sciences? If he wished to learn English, he could also recommend acquainted missionaries.
Within the palace, apart from the Emperor, few princes showed genuine interest in natural sciences, most merely dabbling out of novelty. Someone like the Ninth Prince, willing to devote serious effort, was truly the first Nan Huairen had encountered both inside and outside the court.
Nan Huairen didn’t consider himself particularly fond of teaching, yet now he couldn’t suppress a budding excitement, like a hunter spotting prized game.
The only question was whether the little fellow would agree.
“Ninth Prince, if there’s anything on the Complete Map of the World that requires my explanation, you may send for me at any time. I shall come when available.”
Better to proceed gradually, offering guidance through interaction, and formally ask if he’d accept instruction when the time was ripe.
Yintang seemed to ponder this without immediately responding.
Nan Huairen grew tense. Could this be an inauspicious start?
As he racked his brains for alternative excuses, the little round-faced child spoke: “Lord Nan, I’d like to ask a favor of you.”
A favor? What could a Director of the Imperial Observatory and Vice Minister of Works possibly assist a Prince with? Unless…
The words “favor” between officials and imperial sons were always perilous.
Any “favor” inevitably involved the flow of power or monetary transactions.
Though this child was only three and a half, his speech revealed remarkable precocity. If he truly sought to win him over, Nan Huairen could only regretfully decline, however disappointing.
Staying clear of factional struggles and remaining solely accountable to the Emperor was his bottom line.
Then the little one asked: “Lord Nan, do you know what a terrestrial globe is? I’d like to request you make one based on the Complete Map of the World.”
Nan Huairen’s eyes widened in astonishment, his graying eyebrows arching as he stared at the young child.
During the late Ming dynasty, the missionary Matteo Ricci had indeed crafted a terrestrial globe, now stored in the Emperor’s private collection. Kangxi had previously requested him to create a more refined version based on the Complete Map, but the precision required for longitude and latitude made it far more challenging than drafting a flat map. The Imperial Observatory and Imperial Workshop had researched it for years, only recently nearing completion.
Unexpectedly, the Ninth Prince now made the same request.
Nan Huairen stroked his bearded chin, remaining thoughtfully silent.
Yintang knew his request was presumptuous, but he had to seize this opportunity.
After obtaining the Complete Map, he had eagerly summoned his fifth brother and eleventh brother, using a broken twig as a pointer to explain the map to the two children.
During the lesson, Yinqi listened intently, eyes wide, nodding occasionally. Yinzhi cooperatively sat still on his small chair.
To reinforce their understanding, Yintang added a Q&A session afterward.
“Ninth Brother, you say the earth is round? But this map is flat, isn’t it?” Yinqi urgently inquired.
Yintang patiently explained: “Fifth Brother, this is a planar projection. Imagine connecting the ends of this paper to wrap around a sphere.”
Yinqi scratched his head: “Ninth Brother, I can’t picture it.”
Yinzhi obediently raised his hand: “Ninth Brother, is that all?”
Yintang nodded, only to see Yinzhi cheerfully pull off his sock and begin nibbling his toenails.
Yintang: …
Well, if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, Mohammed must go to the mountain.
After much contemplation, Yintang concluded he needed better teaching tools. A terrestrial globe would be perfect.
The three-dimensional terrestrial globe was much easier to comprehend than flat maps, making it more suitable for giving the palace children—who had received almost no geometric training—an intuitive understanding.
However, Yintang knew nothing about crafting a terrestrial globe. Just as he was pondering whether the Imperial Workshop could produce one, his wish was granted when Nan Huairen, the top expert from the Imperial Observatory, personally paid a visit.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even though it was his first meeting with Nan Huairen, Yintang decided to swallow his pride and give it a try.
Nan Huairen recovered from his surprise and fell into a dilemma.
After all, the terrestrial globe had been custom-made according to Kangxi’s request. Even if replicating it would be much easier after the original was completed, he still needed to seek Kangxi’s opinion before giving one to the Ninth Prince.
Ah, but the little fellow was so sincere. If all else failed, he’d just have to humble himself and beg Kangxi.
“It’s possible, but…”
Yintang noticed Nan Huairen’s hesitation and slapped his own forehead. “Ah, how careless of me!”
Was Lord Nan worried about insufficient resources or manpower? Besides, some compensation should be offered too? Yintang patted his small chest. “Lord Nan, please state your conditions. Whatever I can accomplish, I’ll certainly strive to do so.”
Eh? Nan Huairen hadn’t even said anything yet.
But… since the Ninth Prince had put it this way, he wouldn’t stand on ceremony.
Nan Huairen stood up and bowed respectfully to Yintang.
“Ninth Prince, I require nothing else. I only hope you would permit me to serve as your science teacher.”
So long as the Ninth Prince agreed, he would even risk losing face before the Emperor to fulfill the Ninth Prince’s wish for a terrestrial globe!
“Cough, cough, cough…”
The piece of almond pastry Yintang had just swallowed caught in his throat.
Lian Zhu hurriedly fed him some water and patted his back until he managed to swallow it down.
When he saw Nan Huairen stand up, he had thought, “This is bad, he’s going to refuse me.” He never expected Nan Huairen would propose taking him as a student.
With professional support, wouldn’t such teaching aids become easily obtainable in the future?
It was said this foreign official was also quite accomplished in firearms development. Calculating the timing, Little Thirteen should be born later this year, and Little Fourteen would arrive in two years – both would surely have talent for this subject.
Yintang excitedly did a mental somersault.
“Honored teacher above, please accept your student’s bow!”
The little fellow immediately declared with a clear voice, afraid that Nan Huairen might change his mind if he delayed even half a moment.
Nan Huairen quickly bent down to support him, his brown eyes crinkling with laughter. “Ninth Prince, there’s no need for such courtesy.”
Teacher and student exchanged smiles.
Just as they were about to sit down and discuss future lessons in detail, a vigorous voice laughed loudly outside the palace walls: “Little apprentice! I’ve repaired those mandibles and brought them back for you!”
Nan Huairen’s hands, which were supporting the little fellow, paused.
Why did that voice sound so familiar?
While still puzzled, he saw an equally tall figure striding in briskly, carrying a box.
When Nan Huairen’s eyes met the newcomer’s, they spoke simultaneously: “Why is it you?”
Ashumuergen felt today was truly unlucky.
How did he end up running into this old man Nan Huairen?
“What are you doing here?” Ashumuergen narrowed his eyes, his tone unfriendly.
Nan Huairen smiled and spread his sleeves openly. “Naturally, I came to visit the Ninth Prince.”
He asked in return: “Might I ask why the Anda is here?”
Ashumuergen puffed out his chest like a peacock displaying its feathers. “Naturally, I came to see my good apprentice.”
He deliberately thrust the transparent box in his hand toward Nan Huairen’s face. “And incidentally brought him a gift.”
“Good apprentice?” Nan Huairen’s beard twitched.
When did this fellow take the little bun as his apprentice?
“Yes,” Ashumuergen said, watching Nan Huairen’s astonished expression with great delight. If he had a tail, it would surely be wagging merrily right now: “I am responsible for teaching the Ninth Prince archery.”
He then added, “The Ninth Prince is exceptionally talented. Not everyone gets the opportunity to teach him.”
Let the old man envy me!
Even if you’re also the Emperor’s teacher, that only puts us on equal footing. Now I’m the teacher of the most adorable prince in the palace – I win this round!
Nan Huairen smiled slightly, reached out to pull Yintang closer, and declared proudly: “Let me introduce you – this is my newly accepted student.”
Well now, this is getting interesting! Who would have thought the esteemed Kangxi’s civil and military tutors would have such history?
Yintang had been standing there enjoying the drama when he unexpectedly found himself pulled over by Nan Huairen.
“What?” Ashumuergen’s eyes nearly popped out of his head: “What did you say?”
When did this old man make his move!
Nan Huairen stroked his beard and chuckled: “Just before you walked in.”
Damn, I’m too late! It’s all those useless students’ fault for delaying me for half an hour!
Ashumuergen was furious.
Ashumuergen furiously put down the box.
Ashumuergen furiously rolled up his sleeves.
They’re going to fight! They’re really going to fight!
Yintang’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
Ashumuergen took three aggressive steps forward.
Nan Huairen remained unflinching: “You brute, do you think I’m afraid of you?”
He gently pushed Yintang aside and whispered: “Don’t worry, your teacher knows some Western boxing too.”
He even winked at Yintang.
“…”
Wait, you’re over sixty – is knowing martial arts really the issue here?
Yintang began seriously considering whether he should try to mediate.
But it might just make things worse.
He stood aside, watching these two elderly children with a combined age over one hundred, poised as if ready to pick up stones and throw them at each other’s heads, and fell into deep thought.
Before he could reach any conclusion, a strong, weathered hand suddenly reached over, scooped him up, and held him in its arms.
“Good disciple, come to your master. This old man is wicked, always deceiving people with incomprehensible things. Don’t listen to him. Come, practice archery with your master!”
“…”
Truly a product of military training, well-versed in the art of deception. Ashumuergen had just feigned aggression to make Nan Huairen release the little one, then seized the opportunity to take him.
Nan Huairen finally lost his temper, his pale face flushing red: “Ashumuergen, you old scoundrel! You’re shameless!”
He turned to Yintang: “Good child, this fellow is crude and ill-mannered, cunning by nature. Don’t follow him.”
“I’m cunning? I wonder who it was that persuaded His Majesty to reduce archery practice time while adding all sorts of geometry, mathematics, and geography? These are nothing but extravagant skills and ingenious crafts – they serve no purpose except to waste His Majesty’s precious time and hinder his physical training and adherence to ancestral traditions.”
Ashumuergen, emboldened by having his prized student in his arms, began speaking with sarcastic mockery.
“You ignorant fool! These subjects have great practical value. When His Majesty studies them, he’ll find wonderful applications!”
Nan Huairen was so angry he was trembling, his beard quivering, hands on his hips like an enraged goose.
As a refined scholar, how could he possibly win an argument against this ruffian!
All the servants in Consort Yi’s courtyard watched these two respected senior ministers, wanting to intervene but not daring to.
Yintang finally understood.
This was probably the eternal rivalry between the physical education teacher and the math teacher.
Truly a classic that never fades.
With neither willing to back down, the situation had reached an awkward stalemate.
Considering both men were over fifty-five years old, Yintang felt it necessary to ease the tension for the sake of their cardiovascular health.
He wriggled, trying to climb down from Ashumuergen’s arms.
Ashumuergen’s arms tightened—harder than steel reinforcement—not budging an inch.
“Stay put,” Ashumuergen glanced down at the little dumpling, his tone surprisingly meek. “I’ll go buy you storybooks outside the city tomorrow.”
“…”
The two stood locked in stalemate, like two leopards facing off in the wilderness.
Suddenly, a rich aroma of grilled food wafted from somewhere, reminiscent of a wild boar running under the scorching sun, coated entirely in cumin.
Both leopards swallowed simultaneously.
Following their instincts toward the source of the fragrance, they saw a beautiful woman smiling as she led two palace maids and a little eunuch from the direction of the small kitchen.
The palace maids and little eunuch each carried a tray piled high with neatly arranged grilled skewers.
Upon closer inspection, there were various meat skewers, small sausages, dried tofu, mushrooms, leafy greens, and some unfamiliar grilled varieties.
Unlike the usual large chunks or slices of roasted meat they typically ate, these ingredients were cut into varying-sized cubes, skewered on bamboo sticks, grilled to perfection, and sprinkled with cumin, salt, chili powder, and other seasonings. A light brushing of oil and sauce coated the ingredients, glistening enticingly, with occasional golden drips of oil falling onto the porcelain-white trays.
Ashumuergen licked his lips.
Nan Huairen twitched his beard.
Seizing the moment of distraction, Yintang scrambled down from Ashumuergen’s arms and cheerfully ran toward Consort Yi: “Mother! You’ve brought more delicious food!”
As he spoke, he eagerly directed the palace servants to set down the trays.
He quickly claimed the central spot and waved to the two hungry leopards: “A Shumergen Anda, Mr. Nan, come join us!”
“…”
“…”
The two leopards remained motionless, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
Yintang picked up a skewer of grilled pork belly.
The freshly grilled meat still steamed, its aroma immediately rushing outward in all directions.
Munching away: “So delicious!”
The little dumpling waved the skewer, swinging his short arms, and exclaimed: “Even better than the roasted meat at the New Year’s banquet!”
Gulp.
Gulp.
The two big leopards swallowed simultaneously.
“Come quickly!” The little dumpling waved the cleanly eaten skewer: “It won’t taste as good once it cools!”
“Hmph, who wants to eat with him.” Ashumuergen said, walking over to sit beside Yintang and pulling his chair closer to the little one.
Truly a martial artist—his body was honest, even if his words weren’t.
Seeing Ashumuergen take a seat, Nan Huairen snorted, walked over, lifted his chair, placed it beside Yintang, and plopped down.
Yintang: …This is really crowded.
“Gentlemen, please enjoy your meal at leisure.” Consort Yi remained smiling. “There will be desserts later, no need to rush.”
“Your Highness is too kind.” The two hurriedly stood and replied.
Consort Yi nodded, smiled at Yintang, and led the three servants away gracefully.
According to palace regulations, imperial consorts should not have excessive contact with court officials, yet neither Nan Huairen nor Ashumuergen found Consort Yi’s behavior improper.
The three of them fell into a silent understanding and simply focused on devouring the food.
In what seemed like an instant, several rounds of palace attendants had cycled through—offering warm towels for hand-cleaning, maintaining table cleanliness, and replenishing freshly grilled skewers.
By the time the three patted their full bellies, gazing at the empty platters, the mountain-like pile of skewer sticks, and the haphazardly scattered empty dessert bowls across the table, the sun had already begun its descent in the west.
“Consort Yi is truly too gracious.”
“The Yikun Palace’s private kitchen certainly lives up to its reputation.”
“These grilled beef skewers are absolutely delicious—rich yet not greasy, melting effortlessly in the mouth.”
“The grilled beef tallow is also exquisite—creamy with a rich aroma and a delightfully springy texture.”
“…”
Yintang couldn’t help but glance toward the main hall of Yikun Palace, feeling a surge of gratitude and admiration.
Indeed, ginger grows spicier with age.