Little wretch

Author's note: If you can't read the first chapter, go to this story's book circle and look for the author's comments.

With both nobles having ordered that the little imperial grandson be raised properly, no one dared do otherwise.

When Wu Junji woke again, his awareness had not fully returned, and his mouth sucked instinctively.

Once he realized what he was sucking, his stomach churned.

Bleurgh-

He threw it all up.

The wet nurse panicked.

With a startled cry, she cleaned him up and tried to feed him again, but Wu Junji clamped his mouth shut and refused.

All three wet nurses took turns bringing their milk to his lips. When they pushed too hard, His Little Highness let out pitiful whimpers, so thin and weak that they made everyone think this child would never survive.

Fortunately, the wet nurses had experience.

"Since His Little Highness doesn't like human milk, go and get some cow's milk or goat's milk."

They did. He still refused to drink.

His Little Highness cried as though he would die. They fed him, he vomited; he vomited, they fed him; they fed him, he vomited again.

He left everyone with heads swollen to twice their size.

He refused human milk and cow's milk alike. Only after they switched to goat's milk, mixed in the thick film from millet porridge, and added a wheaty fragrance to mask the milky, rank smell did His Little Highness deign to smack his lips and take a few sips.

What a difficult child to raise.

His Little Highness fussed every day, looking half-dead.

Wu Junji slept and ate, ate and slept, with no idea how many days had passed.

He kept waiting for the old bastard to throw him away.

The moment he was thrown away would be the moment he stopped eating.

The sooner he died, the sooner he could be reincarnated.

But instead of the old bastard, he got a system.

"System 88 is dedicated to serving you. This system offers companionship chat only. Please keep your feet on the ground, host."

After the mechanical notification, a rough male voice sounded in his head.

"Motherfucker! I'm exhausted. My fifth little lord and master. Daddy needs a nap. Keep yourself alive for a few days."

Wu Junji was stunned. A system? Nothing like this had happened in his previous life.

After that, no matter how he called, it gave no response.

For some reason, Wu Junji was no longer afraid. If he was thrown away, surely he would fare better than in his last life.

Wu Junji waited and waited, sleeping and waking dozens of times.

88 remained silent.

The old bastard never threw him away, either.

The old bastard cleared off himself.

He heard the wet nurses discussing how Wu Bing had gone back to ascend the throne.

Wu Junji had heard about this in his previous life. After Consort Dong gave birth to the eldest prince, the Retired Emperor had swiftly passed the throne to Emperor Zhou.

The explanation was always the deep bond between father and son.

In his previous life, Wu Junji had had no way to verify that. This time, he understood.

He had heard that the Retired Emperor prized his reputation.

Knowing Emperor Zhou's circumstances, seeing that Emperor Zhou could produce children, and being old himself, he had hurried to abdicate and preserve his spotless name. Whether Emperor Zhou's two children lived or died, and whether he could have any more, would no longer concern him.

His Little Highness kept gnawing on his hand. What the hell did any of that have to do with him?

Another day of wanting to die.

Half a year passed like this. He heard that the old bastard had ascended the throne and changed the era name from Zhou Kang to Zhou Wu.

He heard that Consort Dong, who had borne the eldest prince, had been elevated to the rank of noble consort.

He heard that the ministers had petitioned for a Crown Prince to be appointed, and that the eldest prince was very likely to receive the title.

No one knew that another prince lived in the summer Temporary Palace outside Chang'an City.

In the six months since the old bastard's departure, no one had visited even once, apart from the palace servants delivering supplies.

His Little Highness ate and ate and ate...

After six months of eating, he had gone from a tiny red monkey to a soft, fair little ball of dough.

By the beginning of autumn, he could roll over. The tiny child lay on his stomach on the bed, head raised, struggling to inch forward on his belly.

Huffing and puffing, using all four limbs, he wriggled half a meter before exhaustion left him panting. He lay on the bed and gnawed his hand as a reward.

He had been born premature. Ordinary children could crawl, sit, and stand at seven months, but Wu Junji could only roll over and wriggle.

The old bastard probably wasn't coming.

He was seven months old now. If the old bastard had forgotten him, he might have to eke out a living in the Temporary Palace.

His Little Highness reflected deeply on his own failings. How could he despise poverty and favor wealth?

At the thought of being raised by a child trafficker, all he could think was, Die, die, die.

Yet when he was left to be raised in the Temporary Palace, all he thought about was how to live, live, live.

To prepare for the hungry days ahead, he worked hard to fatten himself up and covered himself properly at night. In half a year, he had not caught a cold even once!

Yay!

He had already made it through seven months. If he could hold on for another three, he would be able to walk. Once he could walk, his life could not possibly be worse than his previous one.

If the Temporary Palace could keep rats alive, surely it could keep him alive, too?

He could eat rats!

After resting a while, His Little Highness resumed huffing and puffing forward.

Wu Bing... no, he was Emperor Zhou now.

Emperor Zhou had been watching from the doorway for quite some time. The ball of dough on the bed had sparse fuzz on his head, like foxtail grass stripped of its seeds, and wriggled along in little Ω-shaped humps.

But his belly was solid. However hard he wriggled, he still looked like a turtle flipped onto its back.

After half a year apart, the red monkey had become prettier.

During that half year apart, Emperor Zhou had dreamed every day.

Every dream showed a man sobbing bitterly over his coffin. So loud. So very loud.

To get a decent night's sleep, Emperor Zhou had been forced to come.

Was this wretch blind? I've been standing here for ages. Can't he see me?

Oh, it's because I'm too tall and imposing.

For no apparent reason, Emperor Zhou felt pleased.

He entered, gripped the little thing under the arms, and lifted him, looking for all the world like a man returning home in triumph.

"Wretch, I've come to see you."

His Little Highness: "...?"

Wu Junji stared with his little beady eyes. The light in them slowly faded.

The old bastard's here.

I'm going to be sent away.

Live, live, live-what's the point? I'd be better off dead.

Wu Junji drooped his head and greeted the old bastard with a stream of virgin-boy piss.

It landed squarely on his chest.

Emperor Zhou's imperious smile vanished.

His trusted eunuch was horrified and hurriedly took His Little Highness away, while the surrounding servants wiped His Majesty with handkerchiefs.

Emperor Zhou pushed them away.

"What's the point of wiping it?"

He stripped off his clothes and threw them on the floor. Fresh ones were soon brought. After all the chaos, His Little Highness sat with wet trousers, innocently gnawing on his fist.

Emperor Zhou snorted twice and closed his large hand around Wu Junji's neck. One squeeze, one brittle snap, and this wretch could be buried.

Emperor Zhou had been raised as a boy from childhood. Both psychologically and physiologically, he leaned toward being male.

But to have an heir, he had been forced to use drugs to alter his sex characteristics.

He lacked a woman's natural ability to carry a pregnancy, however, and could only rely on medical intervention, having the fetus extracted at eight months.

From the third month onward, he had stayed in the summer Temporary Palace and seen no one.

He had sought out the finest physician in the world at opening abdomens and stitching them shut. Heaven did not fail the determined: he had succeeded.

The mulberry-bark sutures in his abdomen had fused with his flesh. Only after three uninterrupted months of medicinal treatment had his body fully returned to normal.

He had the throne, and he could still have children with any woman.

But the scar and the humiliation could never be erased.

Emperor Zhou truly wanted to kill this wretch.

Yet he had been so good. Terrified that he would not survive, Emperor Zhou had swallowed bowl after bowl of medicine. Every night, when anxiety kept him awake, he would poke him and curse him.

The child had been particularly lazy, refusing to move unless Emperor Zhou gave him a little shake. That wondrous sense of their blood being connected had soothed his taut nerves.

In the six months since returning to the palace, Emperor Zhou had never been able to harden his heart enough to order his death. Every night, he felt as though something was missing beside him. The emptiness of their separation left his thoughts beyond his control.

The hand on the child's neck had long since stopped squeezing and begun gently kneading.

Emperor Zhou's expression was complicated.

He had seen Consort Dong's son.

The eldest prince had been fair at birth.

A few months had passed.

He had turned dark.

Whenever Emperor Zhou saw the eldest prince, he thought of the wretch in the Temporary Palace.

Has he grown fat? Has he turned dark? Has he eaten?

The Empress Dowager had said the wretch looked like him.

Emperor Zhou examined him from every angle and still thought the little wretch looked far too delicate, with none of his own martial grandeur.

Still... he was considerably prettier than the eldest prince.

Though the child looked delicate, he was not timid.

The eldest prince always cried at the sight of him. This wretch did not.

He even dared piss on him, then calmly chew his hand afterward.

The wretch was sucking his hand with relish. Emperor Zhou pulled it out for him.

"Stop eating that."

Wu Junji rolled his eyes and stuffed it back into his mouth.

Emperor Zhou pulled it out. Wu Junji stuffed it back in.

Out again, in again.

Out again, in again.

They repeated this dozens of times.

Emperor Zhou flew into a rage. "You stubborn little brat!"

He grabbed the stubborn brat's arm and, with a chomp, sucked his entire fist into his own mouth.

Eat, eat, eat. Let's see you eat it now!

His Little Highness was stunned.

As though he had witnessed something beyond comprehension, His Little Highness widened his big eyes, let out an "Ah," and sprayed tears from his eyes.

Emperor Zhou watched with curiosity for a while. He had never seen a child's tears fall like that. Then the sobbing and wailing grew louder and louder.

Emperor Zhou dusted off his backside and left.

His trusted eunuch was caught in a dilemma, looking from His Majesty to the crying little prince.

He could only pick up the little one and plead, "My little lord and master, please stop crying! This servant has never soothed a child before!"

Wu Junji: "Waaah-!"

It stank!

His hand stank!

"Waaah..."

Utterly aggrieved, Wu Junji held up the hand that still bore tooth marks, wanting to complain to someone, only to discover there was no one to complain to.

"Waaah-!"

Hearing how strong the crying still sounded, Emperor Zhou felt even more pleased.

His personal guard reported:

"Your Majesty, for the past month, the three wet nurses have taken turns requesting leave. Only one has been on duty each day. They feed His Little Highness three times at set hours during the day and once at night. The rest of the time, they are mostly absent from the room."

Emperor Zhou narrowed his eyes.

Consort Dong had said that the eldest prince needed milk seven or eight times a day. Sometimes he was naughty and refused to drink, or would only drink if they coaxed him and played with him.

Ever since the eldest prince had learned to roll over, thick carpets had covered every corner of Changchun Palace, with two or three servants watching him without so much as blinking, or holding him.

Comparing the two, he could no longer suppress the thought of taking the child back to the palace.

The little wretch had crawled out of his belly. He was born nobler than anyone else. How could he be allowed to live so miserably?