Your Happiness, Son, Is on Me!

Inside the Eastern Palace study.

Zhu Gaochi sat alone behind his desk, sighing. It felt as if the whole world had turned gray.

The Great Snow Dragon Riders had been transferred to the Ministry of War, and command had nominally been handed to him. But this "commander-in-chief" was firmly pinned to the capital, unable to move an inch.

It felt worse than being killed.

He found fault with everyone he laid eyes on, especially that "good son" of his, Zhu Zhanjun, who had tattled on him behind his back.

"Unfilial brat! What an unfilial brat!"

He picked up a book, hoping to read a little and calm down, but he couldn't make sense of a single word. His mind was full of images of the Great Snow Dragon Riders in all their imposing glory.

Just as he was so glum he felt mushrooms might start growing on him, the study door opened again.

Zhu Zhanjun slipped inside, carrying a food box and wearing a fawning smile.

"Father, you haven't eaten yet, have you? Your son brought you something delicious."

"I'm not eating! I'm full of anger!"

Zhu Gaochi turned his head away, refusing to look at him.

"Come on, Father."

Grinning, Zhu Zhanjun sidled up and opened the food box.

A chill, mixed with a strange fruity fragrance, wafted out at once.

Inside the box sat a crystal-clear glass bottle filled with a brown, bubbling liquid.

Beside it lay a plate of cut ice cubes and several plates of brightly colored, oddly shaped fruits.

There were vivid red strawberries, golden mangoes, and purple grapes.

In a season when snow sealed the mountains, these fruits were more precious than gold.

"What's this?"

In the end, Zhu Gaochi's curiosity won out over his temper.

"Something good."

Zhu Zhanjun picked up the glass bottle and skillfully popped it open with a bottle opener. Then he poured the liquid into a colored-glass cup filled with ice.

"Fizzz..."

The bubbles churned in the cup. It looked quite amusing.

"This is called cola. It's a specialty from my master's homeland. It perks you up and makes you happy beyond measure."

Zhu Zhanjun held the cup out to Zhu Gaochi.

"Give it a try?"

Zhu Gaochi took it skeptically and had a small sip.

The cold, sweet, fizzy liquid slid down his throat, and a wondrous sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt before burst through him.

"Cough, cough... Delicious!"

His eyes lit up, and he couldn't help taking another big gulp.

"Th-this stuff tastes so much better than the iced sour plum soup in the palace!"

"Of course."

Zhu Zhanjun speared a piece of mango and held it to his mouth.

"Father, try this too. It's tropical fruit, good for your complexion and your health."

Zhu Gaochi popped it into his mouth. The sweet, soft, tender texture made him blissfully squint.

After a few cups of cola and a whole plate of fruit, his gloom had long since flown beyond the ninth heaven.

Looking at his son, who might be a bit of a loose cannon but always had all kinds of goodies to cheer him up, he felt his anger ebb away.

"You... You always know how to shut me up with these things."

He tapped Zhu Zhanjun on the forehead, exasperated and amused.

"Father, I'm only doing what's best for you."

Zhu Zhanjun put on a wounded expression.

"Just look at your health. You know what it's like. If you went north, through the freezing cold, what would happen if your old illness flared up?"

"If anything happened to you, Mother would skin me alive, wouldn't she?"

Zhu Gaochi fell silent.

He knew his son was telling the truth.

His health really wasn't suited to a long journey, let alone going into battle.

He sighed, his expression growing gloomy again.

"But someone still has to go and settle the fighting in the north."

He spoke with deep concern. "As long as Arutai remains, the Northern Border will never know peace."

"Hundreds of thousands of troops are stranded on the grasslands. The grain and fodder they consume every day is astronomical."

"The treasury... can barely hold on."

"Father, you can rest easy."

Zhu Zhanjun thumped his chest, brimming with confidence.

"Isn't it just Arutai? He's a mere clown."

He pulled a map from his robes and spread it across the desk.

"Look," he said, pointing to the border between Great Ming and the Mobei grasslands. "Arutai is taking advantage of the cold to wage a guerrilla war against us."

"Our main army is cumbersome, and its supply lines are difficult to maintain. We can't catch him."

"But my three thousand Great Snow Dragon Riders are different."

A gleam of control shone in Zhu Zhanjun's eyes.

"They fear no cold, are extremely mobile, and every one of them can take on a hundred men."

"Against a small force like Arutai's, it's like using a butcher's knife to kill a chicken."

"I've already had General Zhang Fu draw up the battle plan."

He pointed to a spot on the map. "In three days, the Great Snow Dragon Riders will set out from here, circle around behind Arutai, and cut off every avenue of escape."

"Then General Xue Lu will lead the main army in a feint from the front, driving them into the encirclement I've prepared."

"When the time comes, one charge will settle everything."

Zhu Gaochi studied the clear arrows and markings on the map and listened to his son's confident analysis. His worries gradually gave way to strong confidence.

He realized that, without his noticing, his son had grown into a brilliant commander who could devise strategies within the tent and win battles a thousand miles away.