Your Majesty, Please Be Obedient - Chapter 1

The snow grew heavier.

Beneath the red walls of the deep palace, two figures—one tall and one small moved slowly, their footsteps crunching against the frost.

Jiang Qiyan looked up at the man and exhaled a soft puff of white mist. “I am a little cold.”

“Are you truly cold?” Pu Tingsong knelt and squeezed the boy’s hand, which was still relatively warm. He then wrapped the child inside his crane-feather cloak. “Or do you just want your Master to hold you?”

A palace servant passed by and prostrated themselves on the ground in a salute to Pu Tingsong. Pu Tingsong picked the child up. “Next time you want me to hold you, just tug at my sleeve.”

Jiang Qiyan’s dim eyes brightened slightly. “Aren’t you going to tell him to get up?” After being lifted, Jiang Qiyan pointed at the person kneeling on the ground.

“I have taught you not to concern yourself with the affairs of others,” Pu Tingsong said, his pace never faltering. “Since you are under my care, you should focus your mind only on me.”

Jiang Qiyan did not answer. He simply watched the falling snow, feeling a flicker of worry for the servant. A large hand patted his head. He squinted, beginning to enjoy the touch, but the hand soon left.

“Be good.”

Pu Tingsong’s voice was not loud, yet it made the boy tremble. After a brief silence, he whispered, “Yes.”

Master seemed a bit displeased, yet even in his displeasure, he was soothing the boy’s emotions. Only Master would treat him this well.

Through the heavy snow, the plaque of the Kunning Palace became visible in the distance. Jiang Qiyan sniffed and leaned his head gently against Pu Tingsong’s shoulder. “I have arrived, Master.”

Pu Tingsong’s gaze was complicated. “Do not let others bully you again.” He paused. “Are you truly unwilling to move out and live with me?”

“There is no need.” Jiang Qiyan shot a cautious look at Pu Tingsong.

Pu Tingsong set him down. The boy felt a sense of longing and reluctance, but in the end, he only gave his Master a small smile. “I do not want to cause Master any trouble. Master, please go back,” he said, bowing his head deeply to hide the flash of panic in his eyes. “I will be fine.”

Pu Tingsong said no more and turned to leave.

Jiang Qiyan sniffed again and climbed the steps. As he crossed the threshold, the red wooden doors were shut by a maid. He looked back, but his Master’s figure had already vanished through the closing slit. Master was gone. Now, there was no one to protect him.

Jiang Qiyan’s body shook slightly. Keeping his head down, he walked quickly toward the inner chambers, trying his best to remain unnoticed.

Yet, he was still called out. A woman’s voice, somewhat raspy, rang out. “Jiang Qiyan, what are you hiding from?”

Jiang Qiyan took a deep breath and turned slowly. His knees went weak, and he knelt heavily on the floor. “This son greets Mother Empress.”

“Who are you putting on this act for? If others saw this, they would think I was mistreating you.” The woman spoke with disgust. “To think my elder sister ended her life for a spineless creature like you! Stand up. Do not kneel there like a servant,” the woman said, giving him a light, dismissive kick. “You are back so late that there is no hot food left. There are some cold leftovers; go eat them yourself. You look sallow and emaciated. If your Master sees you, what will he think of me?”

Leaving those words behind, the Empress returned to her room.

Jiang Qiyan walked silently to the table. He looked at the chairs; every single one was so high. He glanced around and saw the maids, Shu and Qi, cracking melon seeds.

“Sister Shu,” Jiang Qiyan said, taking a breath with pleading eyes, “could you help me? Could you lift me up?”

“I do not have the time.”

“Sister Qi, could you?”

“I am busy.”

The four maids—Qin, Qi, Shu, and Hua—were the Empress’s personal attendants. They did not actually have much to do. He knew they were simply refusing to help because they knew he was unloved. Ever since his birth mother, the previous Empress, died, it seemed everyone had become cruel to him.

Jiang Qiyan used every ounce of strength to scramble onto the chair. Suddenly, he missed that person. That person had told him: Next time you want me to hold you, just tug at my sleeve.

He did not need to beg. He did not need to make excuses. He only needed to tug a sleeve, and he would immediately fall into a warm embrace.

Jiang Qiyan’s gaze fell upon the plate. It contained only a few vegetable leaves and thin broth. The new Empress would not have such a small appetite; this was surely the “playful” Sister Hua joking with him again.

Jiang Qiyan did not touch the food. Instead, he reached into his robes and pulled out a paper-wrapped bundle. It was still warm. Master had said he was very good today and personally roasted this pigeon as a reward. Master had asked if he wanted to eat it then or take it back. He had chosen to take it back, wanting to savor it slowly.

Master’s pigeon smelled so good. Jiang Qiyan’s nostrils flared as he sniffed it carefully. He had not eaten meat in a long time. He leaned down to take a bite, but before he could, the roast pigeon flew from his hand.

He grew anxious. “Sister Hua!”

“The Little Highness is so filial, bringing back roast pigeon for Her Majesty. Her Majesty will surely be pleased.”

“No, that is mine.”

“I know, this is the Little Highness’s gift to Her Majesty,” Xiao Hua said, lightly poking his forehead. “I will take it to her for you.”

“No!”

That was from Master. Jiang Qiyan wanted to jump off the chair but was afraid. It was too high. But that was his Master’s gift. He summoned his courage and jumped, twisting his ankle in the process.

Sharp pain surged through him. He hesitated for only a moment, but in that time, Xiao Hua had already entered the Empress’s room. She intentionally raised her voice so he could hear from outside. “A wild pigeon flew into the courtyard! This servant roasted it for Your Majesty to try!”

“Yes, you are thoughtful.”

“The Little Highness has already eaten. Should I clear the table?”

“Do as you see fit. I do not care to mind him.”

Jiang Qiyan pursed his lips, listening in silence. After a long time, he said nothing and limped back to his room on an empty stomach.

“Master,” he crawled under the covers, murmuring to himself, “do not worry, I am fine. I am not hungry. If I sleep, I will not be sad anymore.”

But why could he not fall asleep no matter how much he tossed and turned? Jiang Qiyan rubbed his hollow stomach; it felt miserable. He crawled out of bed in the dark and slipped into the small kitchen.

The pigeon had not been eaten yet! Jiang Qiyan’s eyes reddened. Wonderful, my pigeon is still here.

He did not care about the consequences. He moved a stool, climbed onto the stove, tore off a pigeon leg, and began to eat ravenously.

“What are you doing?” Hearing the noise, Xiao Hua lit an oil lamp and cried out, “How dare you steal Her Majesty’s pigeon! Her Majesty said to save it for tomorrow’s lunch!”

That was clearly mine. It was mine.

Jiang Qiyan ate even more fiercely, looking like a vicious dog guarding its food.

“What is the shouting for?” The Empress appeared, wrapped in a fur blanket. Seeing him on the stove, she furrowed her brows in disgust. “You low-life, was no food left for you? You sneak in here in the middle of the night to steal a pigeon! Do you think because my sister is gone, no one will discipline you? Why was she so foolish for a wretch like you? Someone, come!”

The Empress ordered him to be dragged down, all the way into the courtyard. “Reflect on your actions!”

The Empress’s voice came through as the door slammed shut. “Throw him a thicker blanket so he does not freeze to death.”

Being dragged had worsened his ankle injury; the pain felt as if the bone were breaking. The blanket was very thin; perhaps the servants were tormenting him on purpose. Jiang Qiyan wrapped it around himself, but he was still cold. He missed Master again. Master would tuck him into the crane cloak, making it unbelievably warm.

He was still hungry, but he had tasted Master’s roast pigeon. It tasted good, though he ate too fast to truly savor it. It was late; he needed to sleep. If he was good tomorrow, Master would roast another one for him, would he not?

Tomorrow, he would not choose to bring it back. He would choose to eat it with Master!

The snow grew heavier, burying the sleeping Jiang Qiyan beneath it. On the roof beam, someone sighed softly.

“If you had come back with me, you would not be bullied,” the man said, picking him up and carrying him to a sheltered corridor. “Why will you not just be obedient?”

Pu Tingsong rubbed the boy’s frozen hands until they were warm before leaving.

The lights were still on in the Imperial Study. Pu Tingsong stopped the young eunuch who was about to announce him and pushed the door open. The Emperor seemed accustomed to this. He stood up tremblingly and only dared to sit back down once Pu Tingsong leaned against a small couch nearby.

“It is snowing. Why has the Beloved Minister come to seek me so late?”

“I am worried about Your Majesty,” Pu Tingsong said with a light hum. “Your Majesty is still reading memorials late at night; I cannot rest easy.”

“If you have something to say, say it. Stop mocking me,” the Emperor smiled helplessly. “If you think I am too diligent, I will not look at these memorials starting tomorrow. I will have them all packed and sent to the Imperial Preceptor’s Manor. Good Junior Brother, please spare me. What happened back then was my momentary confusion. Must you force me to abdicate before you are satisfied?”

“There is no need for abdication. Since you took my father’s life, I shall take one of your princely sons.” Pu Tingsong did not look at the Emperor. His gaze drifted slowly across the room, seemingly inspecting the calligraphy and paintings on the walls.

After letting the Emperor stew for a long time, Pu Tingsong said slowly, “Give little Jiang Qiyan to me to play with.”

Give him to play with? The Emperor was stunned. How could he just give him away?

“Beloved Minister, could you?”

“Does Your Majesty think,” Pu Tingsong’s gaze swept over coldly, “that I am negotiating with you?”

The Emperor lowered his head, hiding the humiliation and indignation in his eyes. To fall so low as to sell a son for survival—no emperor of any dynasty had ever been reduced to this. He struggled for a moment and said cautiously, “Jiang Qiyan is still young. He is, after all, the Crown Prince.”

“Have you ever cared about him?” Pu Tingsong propped up his head, speaking indifferently.

The question was sharp. The answer was no. If Jiang Qiyan did not have a Master named Pu Tingsong, he would have been deposed long ago.

“Then that settles it,” Pu Tingsong closed his eyes to rest. “Keeping him here is just an eyesore. I am taking him; should Your Majesty not thank me?”

The Emperor knew this was not a polite pleasantry. “I understand. Thank you, Beloved Minister.”

If he did not thank Pu Tingsong, this madman might very well cause his demise tomorrow. However, because of this, his distaste for his youngest son deepened. His late wife had spent her days in tears because of this child before ending her life. And now, he himself was being humiliated because of this child.

Indeed, the boy was an eyesore. It was better to send him away.

The snow remained heavy, and the cold wind howled. When Jiang Qiyan woke up, he found himself covered by the crane cloak.

Master had been here.

His nose crinkled. Master surely knew he had been bullied again. He held back his tears. Clutching the cloak, he went inside to grab the book he had been studying and limped out the door.

“Crown Prince, His Majesty summons you to the Imperial Study.”

Jiang Qiyan paused, then hurried toward the study. The heavy doors opened just enough for his small body to slip through. Master and his Father were both there. Jiang Qiyan suddenly felt very nervous.

Before his Father could say much, Master knelt. Did Father not want him anymore? Why was Father telling him to go with Master? Actually, he should have expected it. The name Qiyan implies abandonment. One could tell from the name how much his Father disliked him.

Beside him, Pu Tingsong bowed low. “This subject accepts the decree. I thank Your Majesty for your grace.”

Jiang Qiyan knelt beside Pu Tingsong. His small hand secretly tugged at Pu Tingsong’s sleeve. His face was filled with unease and apology. Was he causing trouble for Master again?

“The Beloved Minister may withdraw.”

Jiang Qiyan stole a glance. His eyes met the Emperor’s for a split second before he quickly looked away, feeling a pang of sadness. His Father’s gaze was full of such relief, as if he had finally gotten rid of a jinx.

“Let us go. We are going home.” Pu Tingsong took the cloak the boy had been holding and pulled him up from the ground.

Their pace was steady. The Imperial Study gradually vanished into the snowy mist.

“How did you get injured?” Once they were far away, Pu Tingsong suddenly asked in a low, gentle whisper. “When did it happen? Be smarter in the future. Do not let yourself get hurt again.”

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