Your Majesty, Please Be Obedient - Chapter 3

“Do not be afraid, I will not throw you away.”

Pu Tingsong did not reprimand him. Instead, he spoke of the facts calmly, using a very composed tone.

“You said the wrong things, and you have misunderstood certain matters,” Pu Tingsong said. He moved a chair to sit opposite the boy and leaned down slightly to meet his eyes. “That phrase you used, ‘not worth it,’ truly breaks my heart.”

Jiang Qiyan’s heart was suddenly squeezed into a tight knot. The words “breaks my heart” were far too heavy; they made him feel worse than a physical scolding ever could. His panicked, trembling eyes looked into Pu Tingsong’s eyes, which remained as still as stagnant water. The fear of being abandoned slowly began to consume his sanity. He became restless, and his small body shook uncontrollably.

Noticing his emotional state, Pu Tingsong reached out and held the boy’s small hand before continuing. “I am indeed a bit displeased, but being angry does not mean I will stop caring for you.”

“It has been a year and a half, little Qiyan,” he said with a hint of helplessness in his voice. “Since you became my disciple at the age of two and a half, when have I ever thought of abandoning you?”

So, even if he is angry, Master will still hold me, right? Can I ask for a hug at any time?

He felt he did not need to guess his Master’s thoughts or watch his expressions carefully because his Master had said he was willing to spoil him. Yet, Jiang Qiyan still felt he did not deserve such overwhelming kindness. To Pu Tingsong, Jiang Qiyan’s current behavior was exactly like a small rabbit recently brought home from the wild: timid, uneasy, and wishing it could curl into a ball and hide in a crevice.

Pu Tingsong let out a silent laugh in his heart. There is plenty of time. I will play this game slowly. First, I must teach the child to depend on me.

“Qiyan,” Pu Tingsong said, stroking the boy’s head. “Let me give you a courtesy name.”

A new pet always feels insecure in a new home, but having a new name changes things. A name represents belonging. Jiang Qiyan evidently thought the same. He looked up in surprise, hardly daring to believe it. “May I?”

“My courtesy name is Suihan. Yours shall be Weishen,” Pu Tingsong said, without explaining the connection between the two.

But Jiang Qiyan understood. He had studied this in his poetry lessons recently, specifically the section regarding pines and cypresses. The pine endures the “bitter cold of the year,” or Suihan, yet remains steadfast. The pine does not speak; its character of perseverance is not easily told to others but is buried deep within, or Weishen, waiting for someone who understands to discover it.

Tingsong, which means listening to the pine, and Qiyan, which means discarded words.

Even a pine tree that cannot speak has someone willing to listen. Suihan, the year’s cold, and Weishen, the hidden depth. After enduring the hardships of the bitter cold, the hidden qualities within are precious beyond measure. The meaning of Qiyan was no longer about being discarded. It meant being as steady, reserved, and steadfast as a pine tree.

Does Master want me to grow into a pine? Does he truly have such high expectations for me? Is Master willing to nurture me, understand me, and discover who I am?

“Weishen,” Jiang Qiyan said as he felt a pang of bittersweet emotion in his heart. “From now on, my courtesy name is Weishen.”

Never before had anyone gone to such great lengths to be kind to him. Jiang Qiyan felt that his name and his courtesy name were now tightly linked to his Master. Most of his anxiety vanished instantly.

The smile in Pu Tingsong’s eyes deepened. “You are so well-behaved. I have always felt that you were worth it.”

Master’s smile is so strange.

Jiang Qiyan suddenly felt a slight chill, but he did not dwell on it. He lowered his head and used one finger to poke at his Master’s arm, which was hidden beneath his sleeve.

“I know I was wrong,” he said, holding back tears though small droplets still fell. “Please do not let your heart be broken, Master.”

His Master was so good; how could he let him feel hurt or disappointed?

“I will not try to be brave on my own anymore,” he said, looking at Pu Tingsong with watery, piteous eyes.

His gaze pleased Pu Tingsong greatly. He stroked the boy, a gesture that seemed to signal forgiveness. Jiang Qiyan affectionately rubbed his head against his Master’s hand, but the hand did not allow him to do so for long and was soon withdrawn.

Why does Master always maintain a deliberate distance and keep such boundaries, only stroking my head for a moment? Why can he not do it a little longer? Jiang Qiyan thought longingly. Being touched by his Master always made him feel safe.

Pu Tingsong stood up and entered the study, allowing the boy to move about freely. Before closing the door, he gave the boy’s hair a reassuring ruffle.

“You may go and play. As long as you do not leave the manor gates or intentionally cause destruction, everything else is up to you.”

These words did not sound quite right; they sounded like instructions for a small pet. Stay at home and do not run outside. Do not jump on the table and knock things off, and certainly do not go poking holes in the curtains or paintings with your little claws.

But he was not a cat or a dog, nor was he mischievous by nature. Why did his Master give him such instructions? Did he not know how obedient he was? He nodded and went nowhere. Once his Master closed the door, he sat down in front of the study with his back against the door. After sitting for a while, he grew bored, but he was afraid of getting lost and did not dare go elsewhere. He rested his head in his hands and began to recall the events of the day.

The more he remembered, the more he felt that his Master paid incredible attention to detail. His Master’s tenderness was truly etched into his very bones. It was so moving.

“Sob.” How could someone be so good to him, taking care of him with such meticulous detail? Jiang Qiyan covered his eyes. Afraid of disturbing his Master, he did not dare to cry loudly; he merely whimpered softly like a small animal at the door.

Before long, the door opened. Pu Tingsong stood behind him, and his shadow completely covered the boy.

“Where is that kitten’s meow coming from? Hmm?” Pu Tingsong leaned forward slightly, looking around as if searching. Then, as if suddenly realizing, he asked with a smile, “Is that you crying at the door, little Qiyan?”

Little Qiyan tilted his head up, thinking he was being subtle as he peeked at his Master through the gaps in his fingers. His Master leaned against the doorway while the sunlight hit his hair from behind, creating a warm, orange-red glow.

His Master’s voice was incredibly gentle. “Do you want to come in and sit, or shall I throw a cushion out for you? I told you to go play, yet you just sit here? How can you be so obedient, little Qiyan?”

Beyond tenderness, his Master’s voice was also full of doting affection. “It is winter, and the ground is cold. If I had not come out to check on you and you continued to sit here, you would be sneezing in no time.”

I want to go in.

He would not disturb his Master; he just wanted to sit quietly by his side. But Jiang Qiyan stood up timidly. He glanced into the room. The study was not overly decorated, but it was filled with piles of paper and bamboo scrolls. They must be very important things. He must not go in and cause destruction. What if he accidentally broke something and caused trouble for his Master?

His Master already had a difficult enough time. If he ruined his Master’s work, his Master would surely be bullied again when he went to court.

“I want the cushion,” Jiang Qiyan whispered. “I will not go in. I will wait outside until you are finished. Please be at ease, Master, I will be good. I will not go anywhere else.”

“If you say so,” Pu Tingsong said, his expression unchanged as he repeated the boy’s words. “You will not go anywhere else.”

That strange feeling surfaced in his heart once more. Jiang Qiyan stared blankly at Pu Tingsong before nodding obediently. He could not say exactly what was strange, but he keenly sensed that his Master repeating those words was a way of emphasizing them to him.

I will not go anywhere.

Then he would not go anywhere. He did not want to leave anyway. If possible, he wanted to be his Master’s shadow, following him forever. Only by his Master’s side did he feel safe and happy.

Jiang Qiyan took the small cushion. Seeing that his Master did not close the door again, he felt another wave of gratitude. He sat at the doorway with his back to the desk, unaware that Pu Tingsong’s gaze was fixed on the back of his neck.

After a long time, Pu Tingsong let out a silent, light laugh and lowered his head to review official memorials. Under Pu Tingsong’s brush lay the lifeblood of the nation; his writing directly decided how the Emperor should act. Despite the importance of the task, Pu Tingsong was quite nonchalant, looking up from time to time to watch the quiet little figure at the door.

The child was so obedient; he was so obedient that it made one want to find a collar for him and lead him everywhere, showing everyone what a compliant and soft little thing he had raised.

Pu Tingsong’s eyes grew darker and deeper. The son shall pay the father’s debts. My dear Qiyan, stay by my side and be my little pet. Be obedient, and do not even think of going anywhere else.

The dark tide retracted the moment Jiang Qiyan turned around. Pu Tingsong asked softly, “What is it?”

“The wind is picking up,” Jiang Qiyan said, sniffing his nose. He had no chance to sense the danger. He simply looked at the Master behind the desk with watery eyes full of admiration and attachment. “Is Master cold? I will close the door for you.”

“If I am cold, will my little Qiyan not be cold as well?” Pu Tingsong teased with a smile. “Listen to your little nose; it is sniffing quite rhythmically. Come in, and bring the door with you.”

Jiang Qiyan hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed into the study, careful not to step on the papers scattered on the floor. He turned to close the door. He did not stop to think why there was so much paper on the floor, nor did he see that the vase on the shelf nearby had been deliberately unbalanced.

More importantly, he did not see that the moment his back was turned, Pu Tingsong flicked a chess piece with his finger.

With a loud crash, Jiang Qiyan froze. He pursed his lips and slowly turned around, on the verge of tears. He saw the fallen shelf and the shattered vase. Did my sleeve accidentally catch it?

The vase had been filled with water. All the papers on the floor were now soaked, and the ink was blurring. He had ruined his Master’s hard work.

“Ugh, I,” Jiang Qiyan said as he dropped to his knees before the desk. “I am sorry.”

With trembling fingers, he slowly crawled toward the shards of porcelain to try and rescue the papers that were already beyond saving. How could he cause such a disaster? How could he cause trouble the moment he arrived at his Master’s home?

His Master’s footsteps drew closer. His Master must be furious; he would surely be enraged and throw him out. Then, no one would want him anymore. He was terrified, and even his hair was shaking slightly.

Pu Tingsong’s hand suddenly reached out and stopped in front of him. “Stand up.”

Pu Tingsong pulled him up, his voice still very gentle. “I did not tell you to kneel, so why are you kneeling? You little fool, can you not see there are porcelain shards on the floor?”

Pu Tingsong knelt to roll up the boy’s pant legs, checking to see if he was injured. Jiang Qiyan was panicking. He tightly gripped Pu Tingsong’s sleeve. This was his little agreement with his Master: as long as he did this, his Master would hold him. But would his Master still hold him now?

“I did not mean to. Ugh,” Jiang Qiyan apologized breathlessly, wiping tears with the back of his hand. “Wah, I, I am too stupid, but, but I did not want this to happen.”

Pu Tingsong slowly withdrew his sleeve from the boy’s grip. Despair instantly flooded Jiang Qiyan’s heart. Does Master finally not want me?

But in the next second, a large hand landed on his back. Pu Tingsong crouched down and pulled him into a hug.

“Who said our little Qiyan is stupid? Little Qiyan is the most obedient and smartest of all. It was the vase that was bad; how could it be allowed to scare my Qiyan?” With a sweep of his sleeve, Pu Tingsong brushed the porcelain shards away. “There, there, do not cry. Master has punished it for you.”

A vase was not a living thing; how could it be “bad”? Clearly, the bad one was himself. Jiang Qiyan looked at Pu Tingsong’s earnest and gentle face through a misty gaze. Are Master’s eyes made of peach blossoms? Otherwise, how could they be so tender, like pink and white petals drifting in a gentle breeze?

Jiang Qiyan rested his small head on Pu Tingsong’s shoulder and sobbed softly. “The words, the words are gone. What will Master, what will Master do tomorrow morning?”

“If they are gone, then they are gone. At worst, I will simply work a bit harder now to rewrite them.”

Pu Tingsong held the easily deceived child, a faint smile appearing on his face where the boy could not see. “And if I cannot rewrite them, I will simply have to endure a scolding. Compared to you, none of these things matter,” Pu Tingsong said, patting his back. “Do not be afraid. I will not throw you away. You are so sweet and soft; I could not possibly like you enough.”

Support Your Majesty, Please Be Obedient