General Summoning, Three-Seven False Flood Dragon

Emperor Zhou returned with a handprint on his face.

Father and son stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Wu Junji had "utter" written in his left eye and "absurdity" in his right.

Emperor Zhou rubbed his face with a pained grimace, looking positively proud.

"What are you staring at? Your old man's old man, the Retired Emperor, has a great big handprint in the exact same spot."

Emperor Zhou looked smug and thoroughly satisfied, but the little Crown Prince's expression, as though he were inspecting some bizarre curiosity, left him deeply displeased.

He planted his hands on his hips and lifted a foot to kick his son's backside. His son dodged.

He kicked again. His son dodged again.

Emperor Zhou dropped his hands from his hips, spread his arms as though scooping up a fish, and plucked his son off the floor.

The little mushroom held his cap high, his face full of world-weary dignity.

Emperor Zhou hefted him up and down as though judging his weight. Apparently, he met the required measure, and the emperor set him down in satisfaction.

He lifted his foot for a trial kick at his son's backside. His son did not dodge.

Satisfied, the emperor delivered a real kick. His son dodged.

Emperor Zhou instantly transformed into an exploding dragon.

"So your old man can't even kick you now?!"

"Present that backside!"

"Your old man is kicking it today, no matter what!"

The little Crown Prince covered his ears, refusing to listen, and took to his heels.

"Three rules! Three rules!" he shouted as he ran.

Emperor Zhou shouted too, through gritted teeth.

"Three rules! Where are the three rules you promised me?!"

Wu Junji stopped in his tracks and adopted an exemplary attitude of contrition. He obediently returned, tipped his face up, and said,

"Father, I was wrong."

Only then was Emperor Zhou satisfied. "Present that backside!"

Wu Junji obediently turned his back and waited for the kick.

Unable to suppress the smile on his face, Emperor Zhou gently nudged him sideways with his lower leg.

Wu Junji looked back up at him. That's it?

Emperor Zhou raised an eyebrow. You have a problem with that?

Emperor Zhou lifted his son under the arms and held him before his face for a careful look.

He had gone to trade insults with the old geezer... yes, Emperor Zhou had passed the little Crown Prince's name for him on to the Retired Emperor.

When Emperor Zhou went to trade insults with the old geezer, one remark from the other man struck him right in the heart.

-Two wicked little replicas.

Emperor Zhou both loved and loathed Wu Junji's face.

Now, the more he looked at it, the more it delighted him.

This was not his humiliation. This was one of his own kind.

They were both unwanted, and they were the ones truly bound by blood, sharing honor and disgrace.

Even their circumstances were so alike.

The little Crown Prince scrunched up his face and flailed twice. Being suspended under the arms for too long was genuinely uncomfortable.

Emperor Zhou finally deigned to gather him into his embrace.

"When you turn three, you'll have your own General Summoning. Then you'll have someone to play with."

Wu Junji's attention was caught by the chain in his hair, glittering and gleaming in all its splendor, and he reached out with his little hand to tug it.

He accidentally caught a few strands of hair.

Emperor Zhou gave a soft hiss of pain, flicked his son between the brows, and moved his hair aside, leaving only the chain for him to tug and play with.

Wu Junji examined it closely. The entire hair chain consisted of tiny pink flowers, one after another. Without looking up close, one would have taken it for a silver hair chain shimmering with pink light.

He furtively slipped it into his mouth and bit it. It tasted metallic, so he spat it out and let it drop.

"What's General Summoning?"

Emperor Zhou answered vaguely, "A subordinate who is absolutely loyal to you, who will never betray you, and who shares your honor and disgrace, your life and death."

Wu Junji did not believe him. "I could have lots of subordinates like that."

Emperor Zhou laughed. "General Summoning is different. In a few days, I'll let you see mine."

"How about I teach you to read from now until the beginning of spring next year?"

Laziness seeped into Wu Junji's bones. He wanted another two years to build up his health.

"No studying, no studying. I want to wait until I'm four."

Emperor Zhou coaxed him. "Just a few names. Once you've learned them, we'll stop. If you can recognize those names, I'll let you play until you're seven before you start school, and find you the greatest teacher under heaven. How does that sound?"

Wu Junji said, "Wow~ What names are worth that much?"

His choice of words amused Emperor Zhou.

"The Yuntai Twenty-Eight Generals."

For a time afterward, Wu Junji stayed in the Jade-Tooth Warm Pavilion. He noticed that the Retired Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and Emperor Zhou all tacitly began visiting the two Mystic Gates and the ancestral hall to pay their respects.

The atmosphere in the palace underwent a distinct change.

Whenever Emperor Zhou looked at him, his gaze was filled with eager hope.

Then, on the night of the Beginning of Spring, someone dug a groggy Wu Junji out from under his covers.

He opened one eye. It was Emperor Zhou.

He shut both eyes and unleashed eighteen consecutive palm strikes.

Disturbing someone's sweet dreams in the middle of the night-get lost!

Unfortunately, no amount of catfish-tail thrashing in midair let him escape the fish trap.

Emperor Zhou held his son up under the armpits and waited for the boy to finish venting. Only then did he dress him and put on his shoes with practiced ease, wrap him in a little cloak, and let him sleep on his shoulder as he walked steadily toward the imperial carriage.

The rustling clatter of armor cleared the way ahead. Nestled against Emperor Zhou's shoulder, Wu Junji took a good while to gradually wake up.

He opened his eyes and watched the imperial carriage make its way out of the palace.

As soon as they left the palace, an uncanny chill swept over him. Alarm bells rang in Wu Junji's mind. He raised his head, only for Emperor Zhou to press him back into his embrace, instantly shutting out that strange cold.

A large, warm hand patted his back soothingly.

"Don't be afraid. Nothing will happen."

"Do you still remember those names I taught you?"

Wu Junji nodded silently.

His entire body was covered by Emperor Zhou's great cloak. His hand found the ink-jade and silver meteorite belt at Emperor Zhou's waist, forged from the meteorite he had requested from him.

A meteorite dice pendant bearing a gold-patterned dark bird had also been made.

The belt was for Emperor Zhou, and the die was for himself.

Being reborn with one's memories was the cruelest punishment in the world.

He could only constantly warn himself: With death, the past turns to dust; let a lifetime's debts and grudges rest.

But Emperor Zhou had been the beginning of everything, and Wu Junji could not let things rest with him.

Emperor Zhou said softly, "When we arrive, don't be afraid. Just read those names aloud."

Wu Junji rubbed against the jade belt. Emperor Zhou reached back to stroke his forehead and rub between his brows, as though afraid he did not know his own strength. The jade was hard-what if he hurt himself rubbing against it?

In the pitch darkness, Wu Junji had no idea where Emperor Zhou was taking him. All this secrecy meant there had to be a great secret.

When they arrived, Emperor Zhou carried Wu Junji down from the imperial carriage and into what looked like an imperial ancestral hall.

Wu Junji was puzzled. Isn't the ancestral hall in the palace? Why have they built another outside?

Once they entered, goodness, the entire court was there!

Scarlet robes and black cloaks filled the place, every wearer distinguished in bearing and steeped in scholarly grace. This little ancestral hall held the power of all Great Zhou.

"Ten thousand years of peace to Your Majesty! Ten thousand years of peace to the Retired Emperor! A thousand years, a thousand years, a thousand thousand years to His Highness the Crown Prince!"

Past rows of black memorial tablets traced in gold and ever-burning lamps, through the drifting smoke of incense sticks, Wu Junji met the Retired Emperor's gaze head-on.

The Retired Emperor held Wu Junzheng in his arms, his expression brimming with affection.

The civil and military officials present seemed, subtly, to be clustered protectively around the Retired Emperor.

Suspicion stirred in Wu Junji. What happened?

Sitting in the Retired Emperor's arms, Wu Junzheng looked at him smugly and defiantly, something he would never have dared do before.

What support has he gained that lets him overcome his fear of being skinned?

One look at this arrangement told Emperor Zhou that Wu Junzheng had already undergone General Summoning before his arrival.

Displeasure rose in Emperor Zhou's heart.

"The result?"

The Retired Emperor roared with laughter.

"Three-seven false flood dragon."

"Just like you and me, father and son. Truly a grandson worthy of me! Hahahahaha!"

Emperor Zhou's expression changed abruptly.

Only one bearer of flood dragon fortune could emerge in each generation of the imperial family.

A Fake Flood Dragon could evolve into a flood dragon upon ascending the throne. Once the emperor fathered the next child with flood dragon fortune, his own flood dragon fortune would evolve into true golden dragon fortune.

Why had Emperor Zhou delayed a direct confrontation with the Retired Emperor for so long? Because the Retired Emperor possessed golden dragon fortune, while he still had flood dragon fortune-and incomplete flood dragon fortune at that.

Emperor Zhou had pinned all his hopes on Wu Junji being this generation's bearer of flood dragon fortune. Only then could Wu Junji firmly hold his position as Crown Prince, and he himself could take an axe to the court and reshape it.

One-seven was a snake, two-seven a python, Three-Seven False Flood Dragon, and four-seven a flood dragon.

Wu Junzheng was a Fake Flood Dragon. Wu Junji could, at best, be a two-seven python.

Python fortune was no different from that of an ordinary person and afforded no opportunity to learn the truth of this world. Ordinary people could not comprehend the world as it appeared to extraordinary beings.

The Retired Emperor looked down on them loftily. "Emperor, with so many people here, surely there's no need to perform General Summoning again? There's no reason to disturb the ancestor spirits for a mere python."

To call Emperor Zhou's expression ugly no longer did it justice.

His arms tightened around Wu Junji little by little. It was not a grip venting his anger, but more like a protective coil, even a protection born of helpless bewilderment.

General Summoning, three-seven false flood dragon, ancestor spirits, a mere python.

That was all the information Wu Junji had obtained.

Right, there was also a book of the names of the Yuntai Twenty-Eight Generals.

A massive stone stele stood in the middle of the ancestral hall. Wu Junji saw that it bore precisely the names of the Yuntai Twenty-Eight Generals.

His father had told him about the Yuntai Twenty-Eight Generals. They were meritorious officials who had followed the Great Ancestor in founding the dynasty, their deeds recorded in biographies and on a stele for later generations to remember.

Wu Junji held Emperor Zhou's head in both hands and planted a smacking kiss on his forehead.

That brought Emperor Zhou back to his senses.

Looking at the plump, tender little steamed bun in his arms, he suddenly felt a sting in his eyes. Two words came to him: Seize fortune.

So what if the Crown Prince doesn't have flood dragon fortune? I can pile enough fortune upon him to make it so!

This was the first time Wu Junji had seen Emperor Zhou like this, isolated and without help. He was rather pitiful. Wu Junji said softly,

"I only need to read all the names on the stele aloud, right?"

In truth, that was wrong.

One had to call a name and receive a response. Only a response counted as a successful General Summoning.

If no response came, one had to stop there and could summon no further.

But Emperor Zhou touched his forehead to his son's, concealed the helplessness in his heart, and answered softly,

"Yes."

He was only three and knew nothing. He had spent so long learning those names that Emperor Zhou could not bear to deny him.

It was all right, whether he was a snake or a python.

There would always be a way...