Your Majesty, Please Be Obedient - Chapter 22

Jiang Qiyan pushed open the bedroom door. The biting winter wind, thick with frost, snaked into his collar, making him shiver slightly. A sense of unease gnawed at his heart, a premonition that something significant was about to happen. He dismissed it as mere nerves, silently comforting himself.

What is there to fear? It is not the first time I have offered New Year greetings to the Teacher. This is a festive visit, not a shameful deed; there is no reason to be so tense.

By the time he meandered to the study, he found that Fang Wuming had already arrived. Jiang Qiyan noticed abrasions on the back of Fang Wuming’s hand and was about to ask about them, but he was silenced by a sharp look from Fang Wuming.

Fang Wuming himself did not know what was wrong. Ever since he had left Qin Shizhi, his heart had been thudding restlessly, and his temples throbbed with an odd rhythm, as if some ill fortune were about to entwine him. His intuition told him to be cautious lately: tell as few lies as possible, for exposure would only lead to embarrassment; seek as little trouble as possible, adhering to the “old tortoise” principle of stillness over movement. He wanted to sever every possibility of stumbling at the root!

Jiang Qiyan withdrew his gaze and turned toward his Teacher. The moment he looked, he froze. Was that a cold, dark look in the Teacher’s eyes? Was it because the first thing he did upon entering was not looking at the Teacher?

Jiang Qiyan was not sure if that look had been real. In the blink of an eye, Pu Tingsong laughed at him. “If you keep staring at your teacher in a daze like that, I shall have to speak first.”

That would not do! How could an elder be the first to say “Happy New Year”?

Jiang Qiyan immediately cast his doubts aside, stepped forward, and cupped his hands in a formal bow. “Happy New Year, Teacher!”

Pu Tingsong stood up and returned the salute with a bow. “This official wishes Your Highness a Happy New Year.”

Jiang Qiyan dazed for a moment and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a beautiful, delicate silk pouch was pressed into his hands.

“Hold it tight, do not drop it.” A large hand wrapped around his small one, helping him grip it firmly. “There are eight golden leaves inside, and some other things. Since an outsider is present, I will not speak plainly; Qiyan can look at it tonight.”

The “outsider” in question rubbed his nose, thinking: the two of you, teacher and student, are a picture of harmony and joy. What was the point of calling me here just to stare blankly?

“Little Fang, aren’t you going to offer your greetings?”

Who are you calling “little”? I am a few months older than you!

Fang Wuming immediately smiled. “Is there something for me too?”

“Naturally.”

A good man, a truly good man! Fang Wuming immediately bowed. “Happy New Year, Happy New Year! Lord Preceptor is truly elegant and handsome. May this year be good, last year be good, next year be good, and every year be good!”

Pu Tingsong handed over another pouch, smiling with an ambiguous meaning. “This official has always been impartial; there are also eight leaves in this one.”

Once Fang Wuming had cherished the pouch and tucked it into his robes, Pu Tingsong waved his hand, signaling him to leave. Before departing, Jiang Qiyan glanced at the pouch in Fang Wuming’s hand. Indeed, it was larger and more bulging than his own.

The wooden door opened and closed. A draft leaked in, and just as a shiver began to take hold, Pu Tingsong’s gaze fell upon him.

“Are you cold?”

“Mm.”

Pu Tingsong suddenly felt like teasing him. “Then, would you like to use your teacher’s waist to warm up again?”

Jiang Qiyan’s face turned bright red instantly. The memories of his earlier years, along with the heightened sense of shame and propriety typical of childhood, struck his soul directly. It was overwhelming.

This sense of shame was quite pure. A child, newly aware of right and wrong, instinctively feels that such things are slightly improper. Those with “thin skin” will often blush like this. It is as if they have done something wrong; they know it is incorrect and feel guilty, but the words for an apology simply cannot be spoken. As one grows older and “thicker-skinned,” such amusing scenes are rarely seen.

Pu Tingsong watched the child covering his eyes with amusement. “Hmm? Does Qiyan want to or not?”

I want to! But!

“I, I do not want to!” Jiang Qiyan was flushed with embarrassment. “I, I do not want to, Teacher. I do not want to, I do not want to think about it, I!”

“Why do you look like you are saying one thing but thinking another?”

“No, no, no! I do not!” Pushed to the limit, he even began to stutter. “I, I, I, I do not! I do not want it in my heart, I do not!”

“Then so be it.” Hearing this, Pu Tingsong shook his head with a feigned air of regret.

Jiang Qiyan was stunned. Why did the Teacher give in so quickly? If he had persuaded me a bit longer, I would have!

Just as disappointment began to settle in his heart, the Teacher reached out to him. “Come, I will use my hands to warm you.”

The unhappiness vanished instantly. Jiang Qiyan placed both of his small hands into the Teacher’s palms. Pu Tingsong raised an eyebrow slightly and then curled his fingers. One of his hands completely enveloped both of the boy’s small hands.

Jiang Qiyan’s eyes widened. Are the Teacher’s fingers that long? I never noticed before. The Teacher’s fingers were so beautiful, the bones clearly defined, unlike his own hands, which were chubby like little steamed buns.

Quite cute, Pu Tingsong thought. I suppose the baby fat on the child’s hands will never fade; they will likely stay soft and plump for his whole life. From their first meeting a year and a half ago, Pu Tingsong had noticed something. Even though this child often went hungry back then, he had managed to grow up looking fair and round. He was born with the face of a cute doll. Pu Tingsong’s daily habit of ordering a bowl of hot milk for him was precisely due to this consideration. He did not know if this appearance would affect his physical stature, and he worried that the child might not grow tall because of it.

Jiang Qiyan’s icy little hands were warmed in no time. He let out a sneeze, wondering if he was dressed too lightly. But I am wearing quite a lot!

Hearing the sneeze, Pu Tingsong’s thoughts returned to the present. He leaned down, picked the boy up, and adjusted his crane-pattern cloak to wrap him tightly. Leaning against the Teacher’s shoulder, Jiang Qiyan no longer felt the cold as he was carried outside. He thought they were going to the dining hall for dinner, but Pu Tingsong carried him out the main gates.

“Where are we going?”

“To see the fireworks. If Qiyan wants to play, we can also stroll through the streets.”

Fireworks? In the past, in the palace! The past was not important. A flash of loneliness crossed Jiang Qiyan’s eyes but vanished immediately. He looked up with a smile. “I want to play with the Teacher!”

“Little one, I am not playing with you.”

“I want to.”

“In your dreams.”

“Wuaaa.”

“Unbelievable, Little Qiyan has learned to use fake crying to make me compromise.” Pu Tingsong pinched his nose. “I will only play with you for a bit; I find it childish.”

“Teacher clearly wants to play too,” he pouted. “I can tell.”

“Cough.” Pu Tingsong coughed lightly. “Your courage has grown; you dare to point out your teacher’s weaknesses?”

“I do dare.”

“Since you are teasing me like this, be careful or I shall punish you.”

Jiang Qiyan peeked at the Teacher’s expression; there was only amusement.

“Wuaaa!” He stopped halfway through a half-hearted cry, unable to stop himself from laughing. “Teacher only knows how to scare people.”

“Little Qiyan is so clever, I would not dare scare you.”

Talking and laughing all the way, they unknowingly reached a crowded area. Jiang Qiyan suddenly felt a bit shy. “I, I want to walk by myself.” He was not a nursing infant; if others saw him being carried all the time, they would surely laugh at him for being delicate.

Pu Tingsong always humored him. After setting him down, he went to a nearby stall and bought a tiger-skin hat to place on his head. “This way, you should not be cold.”

As they wandered, he was given one snack and toy after another. Gradually, he found he could hardly carry them all. Panting, he took a piece of steamed cake and stopped. “Teacher!”

“What is it?” Pu Tingsong said intentionally. “Is there something else you want to eat?”

He began to sulk. “Do not buy anything else!”

Pu Tingsong sighed. “Qiyan does not say what he likes or what he wants, so I have no choice but to buy whatever I see. I have tired you out; it was my lack of foresight.”

The anger in Jiang Qiyan’s puffed-up cheeks suddenly vanished. He pushed everything into the Teacher’s hands, kept only a single piece of steamed cake, and took a small bite. His face felt itchy, as if something crystal clear were sliding down.

“Everything the Teacher buys, I, like it all.”

He did not ask the Teacher for things because he felt he should not. He wanted to be more sensible. But the Teacher did not need him to be sensible; the Teacher was practically spoiling him to the heavens.

“Why have you been moved to tears?” The Teacher held a pile of trinkets, looking somewhat helpless. “I do not have a spare hand; why do you not grab a corner of my robe to wipe them?”

He grabbed the hem of the Teacher’s robe and buried his face in it, letting his tears flow. By hiding his face, others would not know he was crying. He could cry a bit more boldly.

Pu Tingsong looked down at him for a while, handed the items to the following servant, and then patted his back. “Do you want me to hold you and comfort you?”

Too many people. “No.”

“Then we will cry when we get home? I will hold you and comfort you back at the manor?”

“Okay.”

Jiang Qiyan pulled back his tears and pointed at a fireworks stall. “I want to play with that.”

The child had learned to speak up for himself. Pu Tingsong raised his eyebrows slightly, walked over, and bought a few of everything. Seeing that he was buying so much, the stall owner gave him a fire starter. After giving his thanks, he took Jiang Qiyan’s hand and walked toward an open space.

It was Jiang Qiyan’s first time setting off fireworks. He did not show it on his face, but his heart was full of anticipation. The moment the brilliant sparks erupted, his ears were covered by a pair of hands. The massive booms were muffled as they reached his eardrums, making them feel somewhat surreal.

The fireworks bloomed one after another in the festive sky, interspersed with the slow ascent of Kongming lanterns.

“It is still early. By the time of the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth, there will be even more lanterns.”

I know, actually. In previous years, back in the palace, he would huddle in a corner, shivering from the sound of firecrackers. I know, actually. He would sit behind a paper window, looking at those warm lights through a thin layer of paper. The warm light blurred so much and the points of light were so hazy that he had once, as if possessed, reached out and poked a hole in the window paper. Through that tiny hole, he had glimpsed the joy and happiness of others. Envy had filled his tiny heart.

But that is not important anymore, actually. The Teacher was holding his hand, and he was standing openly beneath a sky full of stars and prayer lanterns, gazing at his own happiness. No, it was luck. In his unfortunate life, the Teacher was his only piece of luck.

“Let us go back,” he let out a yawn. “I am sleepy.”

“Getting sleepy right after eating your snacks?”

“Mm.”

“Then let us go back.”

Jiang Qiyan could not wait to go back and sleep. When he woke up tomorrow morning, Brother Fang would become his second piece of luck. He believed in his friend and knew he would not let him down.

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