An Emperor Was Heartless

Emperor Zhou was not one to fuss and dither, yet after escorting his son all the way out of the palace and beyond bustling Chang'an City, he began to regret it.

The three-year-old Crown Prince did not even reach his legs. The hair he would rather die than cut was now long enough to tie into a little bun atop his head.

A silvery-pink hair chain wound around the little bun again and again, gleaming with pearly, jeweled splendor. It was the same style Emperor Zhou wore.

A lightly lined, hooded cloak warded off the spring chill. Beneath it, he wore a narrow-sleeved pink cloud-brocade robe patterned with dragons, deerskin boots lined with rabbit fur on his feet, and a black-bird meteorite die hanging at his waist.

His sharply defined features looked as though they had been rendered in meticulous brushwork by Changbai Mountain's heavenly hook, edged with a keen chill. A tiny mole beneath the corner of his eye was like a flying swallow that brought a landscape painting to life.

He was like a great pink pearl.

Undercurrents swirled within Jixia Academy. However clever Jier was, he would be facing people older and taller than himself.

Emperor Zhou stroked the Flood Dragon mark he had branded between the little Crown Prince's brows, but still could not feel at ease.

"How about... we don't go?"

Wu Junji cast him a glance. He did not need to speak for Emperor Zhou to understand-Is there something wrong with your head?

Emperor Zhou's heart seized. He kept feeling as though he were selling his son.

That thought made him feel even worse.

Wasn't he doing exactly that-selling his son?

The Retired Emperor had left this rotten mess behind, yet he had to sell his son to clean it up. Emperor Zhou felt bitterly wronged.

But their parting was upon them. However reluctant Emperor Zhou was, there was no turning back.

He pinched the little bun atop his son's head. "Won't you say a few words to me?"

Wu Junji's gaze fell on Emperor Zhou's belt. He moved closer and nestled into his father's arms, tilting his head back and softening his voice into a clingy, coaxing tone.

"I gave you a belt, Father. You must wear it every day."

"I'll wear mine too."

Holding that great pink pearl, Emperor Zhou suddenly understood what it meant to have "a bright pearl nestled in one's embrace." Since the General Summoning-or perhaps even earlier, when the little Crown Prince first ran away from home-Emperor Zhou had no longer been able to suppress the paternal love in his genes.

If cherishing one's offspring was a genetic lock that sustained the continuation of life, Emperor Zhou had undoubtedly become its prisoner.

An emperor was heartless, but he would never be so toward Wu Junji.

He covered the little Crown Prince's eyes, then let his tenderness flood unchecked.

"I promise you."

"I'll wear it every day and never take it off."

The most fundamental difference between Wu Junji and the other princes was those eight months.

Yet those eight months had become a chasm no one else could cross.

Jixia Academy stood on Non-Action Mountain, a little over ten li outside Chang'an City, close to the Great Light Sound Temple.

Father and son parted midway. Emperor Zhou had previously arranged to discuss Buddhist teachings with Master Tianxuan and could not break his appointment.

Chen Yu joined Wu Junji in the same carriage.

They sat facing each other, and the air seemed to congeal.

Chen Yu was the first to speak. "Your Highness, wearing the die for too long is bad for your health."

Wu Junji pointed at the corner farthest out along the edge of the carriage and said bluntly,

"Stay away from me."

Chen Yu fell silent for a few breaths, then moved without a word.

Wu Junji rested his head against the carriage wall and closed his eyes.

Chen Yu had witnessed the most abject moments of Wu Junji's past. He told himself there was no shame in staying alive, but Chen Yu's presence constantly reminded him that he had knelt, crawled, begged for mercy, and debased himself.

His desire to kill Chen Yu came from human pride, from the urge to erase that humiliating stretch of his past.

Keeping Chen Yu alive was his reason warning him not to become a puppet of the times, not to turn into the sort of person the modern-day Wu Junji had despised.

He swung back and forth between facing it openly and running away, so the sight of Chen Yu brought him pain and loathing.

It was not Chen Yu he hated, but himself, ground to pieces and recast by the times.