Red Cord

"What? You're sending me to Jixia Academy?!"

Wu Junzheng went pale.

He shook his head like a pellet drum and burrowed into Consort Dong's arms like an ostrich.

"I'm not going! I don't want to go! I won't go!"

Jixia Academy was a palace of monsters!

In his previous life, he had entered the academy at seven and been tormented half to death.

He was only three in this life. If he went to the academy, how could he possibly survive?

"What about the Crown Prince? Is he going? Did he slander me before Father, and that's why Father is sending me to Jixia Academy?!"

Father had always treated them with cold words and an icy manner. No matter how many poems he memorized or how much martial arts he practiced, he could never earn a word of praise.

He had thought Father was cold by nature, but the truth was that Father would stand against Imperial Grandfather for Wu Junji.

Eating together, sleeping together, going everywhere together-who else, in either of his lives, had ever received such affection from Father?

He and Wu Junji had been born at the same time. They were both sons, so why did Father love Wu Junji alone?!

Before General Summoning, he had had no chance. After General Summoning, he had even less of one.

Wu Junzheng tugged at Consort Dong's hand.

"Mother, how am I any worse than Wu Junji?!"

Consort Dong was startled by his behavior.

She hurriedly ordered someone to check whether anyone had overheard what Wu Junzheng had said.

"My son, what are you saying?"

"Jixia Academy is the finest academy in the world. This is a good thing! Of course the Crown Prince is going too."

Consort Dong cupped her son's little face, utterly adoring him.

"My son is wonderful in every way, of course. You may not be as delicate and precious as the Crown Prince, but you're healthy!"

"Just look at the Crown Prince. He spends every day circling around Taiji Palace. At most, he goes to lie on that big rock beneath the willow in the imperial gardens. Those feet of his have never even touched the earth! My son is different-solid and sturdy."

The more Wu Junzheng listened, the more convinced he became that something was wrong with his mother's head.

The Crown Prince was "delicate and precious," while he was "solid and sturdy." Wu Junzheng let out two perfectly enunciated "Ha"s.

At every family banquet over the past two years, he had sat beside the Crown Prince while the palace consorts praised the Crown Prince as "adorable as carved jade and snow," "a little snowball," "so finely featured, he'll surely grow as handsome as a jade crown," and "just like His Majesty, a celestial being."

When his turn came, it was nothing but "a sturdy little tiger" and "such a strong body."

Was there nothing to praise about him except his strong body?!

Wasn't he handsome? Couldn't he be as handsome as a jade crown?! Couldn't he be a celestial being just like Father?!

With tears brimming in both eyes, Wu Junzheng demanded of Consort Dong, "If the Crown Prince and I were both your sons, which of us would you love more?!"

"Oh!" Consort Dong's eyes lit up. "If that were so, I could become empress! Your elder brother the Crown Prince isn't as robust as you. He'd need to be raised with the utmost care."

"My son has an exceptional bone structure. Once you've learned martial arts, you'll be able to protect the Crown Prince."

At the thought, Consort Dong could not help feeling regretful. "Tell me, why couldn't the Crown Prince have been reborn in my womb? Then you and he would have been twins, and you could have looked after each other."

Wu Junzheng's face turned red, then green. His mouth opened and closed. Several times, he wanted to swear, but remembering how his mother had spent half her previous life toiling for his sake and died in misery, he held himself back until his chest hurt and forcibly swallowed his anger.

The Crown Prince repaid even the smallest slight, stopped at nothing, disowned his own kin, and had neither feeling nor loyalty!

Not one person who had offended him had come to a good end.

He and the Crown Prince were destined never to be friends. Rather than wait for his revenge, he might as well strike first!

Wu Junzheng swallowed. Merely thinking of plotting against Wu Junji filled his heart with despair.

Could he really succeed?

Clutching the hem of Consort Dong's robe, Wu Junzheng said with difficulty, "Mother, I remember Grandfather's family has an heirloom..."

Consort Dong frowned slightly. "How does my son know that?"

Before Wu Junzheng could invent an explanation, Consort Dong answered first.

"It's nothing particularly rare, just a length of red cord passed down from our ancestors. They say it was blessed at the Great Light Sound Temple and is remarkably effective. It's only passed down to sons, not daughters, too."

"You want a blessed red cord? Master Tianxuan of the Great Light Sound Temple has a profound understanding of Buddhist teachings. Shall I ask His Majesty to summon him to the palace and request a length for you?"

Consort Dong thought the heirloom red cord was a keepsake left by some ancestor that later generations had felt uncomfortable disposing of, so they had kept it as a family treasure out of sentiment.

Little did she know that the length of red cord was a mystical object.

Wu Junzheng's thoughts were in turmoil. Hearing Master Tianxuan's name, he felt as guilty as a thief and hastily refused.

"There's no need to ask him. I'm just curious. Mother, could you ask Grandfather about it for me?"

Thinking it was merely a child's passing fancy, Consort Dong agreed.

"I'll ask when I have a moment to spare."

Seeing that Consort Dong did not press him, Wu Junzheng breathed a sigh of relief.

The third and fourth princes would be born in another month. Consort Xiao of Yuxun Palace was five months pregnant, carrying twins like two lotus blossoms on one stem.

If nothing went wrong, the fifth would be born two years later, and the sixth six years later. The seventh, eighth, and ninth would come even later.

A thought rose unbidden in Wu Junzheng's mind: Would those younger imperial brothers ever get to be born?

Thinking of Wu Junji's habit of cutting the grass out by its roots, his heart pounded like a drum.

*