Being an emperor is not something he can do, so he can only rely on his connections.

With the dust settled on the Five Stones Case, the name "Zhang Jingwei" resonated like a boulder dropped into a deep pond, sending ripples all the way to the capital. In teahouses, taverns, and brothels, storytellers' clapping of their wake-up sticks resounded, their spittle flying as they recounted stories of "Zhang Qingtian's wit solving mysteries" and "the young county magistrate's brave battles against the powerful." Peddlers and hawkers listened with rapt attention, and even within the imperial palace, copies of these "storybooks," still scented with fresh ink, quietly circulated.

Inside the imperial study, an incense burner emitted a soothing, gentle fragrance. The young emperor, Sima Gang, lay sprawled across a large rosewood desk, his small frame almost buried beneath the pile of memorials. Only his gleaming eyes, fixed intently on a storybook spread out above. The thin volume, made of rough paper, bore the distorted words "Gaoyang Strange Cases Record." He read with rapt interest, his mouth slightly open, his fists clenched in nervousness, his smile tinged with triumph at Zhang Jingwei's cleverness, as if he had solved the case himself.

"Hmm! Good! A true dog always barks!" Seeing this wonderful passage, the young emperor couldn't help but slap the table, shaking the jade pen holder's wolf-hair brush slightly. He raised his head, his bright eyes looking at the pale, beardless eunuch standing beside him, and with the eagerness of a child asking for candy, he said, "My dear, do you have any more of this wonderful storybook? I want to read it again! Every day!"

The eunuch chief wore a humble yet embarrassed smile, bowed his body, and spoke softly, as if afraid of disturbing something: "Your Majesty... these are... these are all we can find in the palace. I have searched all the libraries, but I really... I really can't find any more."

"How could it be?" The little emperor's face fell, full of confusion and disappointment, "Isn't it said that Zhang Jingwei's story has spread all over the capital? The storytellers in the teahouse can tell several stories a day!" Even at such a young age, he had already vaguely felt an invisible restraint, and he couldn't even enjoy listening to a story.

"That's because... the case involved nobles and relatives, and the Censorate began suppressing public opinion in various places. Soon the storm dissipated."

An old but unusually steady and powerful voice, like the low ringing of an ancient bell, suddenly rang out at the door of the imperial study, interrupting the eunuch chief's mumbling.

When the little emperor heard the voice, the gloom on his face immediately disappeared. He jumped off the throne in surprise, as if he had seen a savior: "Granduncle!" His voice was full of intimacy and dependence.

The man who arrived was none other than Zhao Mingcheng, the man who held the central government and held immense power. His hair and beard were white, his face gaunt, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's. His dark purple dragon robe accentuated his tall, pine-like figure. His central office was located in the Taiji Hall, just a few steps from the imperial study. As he stepped in, his gaze swept across the prominent scripture on the imperial desk, then fell upon the excited face of the young emperor. A subtle flicker of helplessness and understanding flashed across his eyes.

Zhao Mingcheng stroked his graying beard. His voice was gentle, yet contained an undeniable authority. "Our young emperor, have you been obsessed with reading these street romances all day? Today, the Grand Secretary has asked for leave, granting you half a day off, but it's not for you to 'recuperate' like this. Come, let me test you to see if you've memorized yesterday's lessons."

At the mention of homework, the little emperor's excitement instantly waned. He pouted his lips and protested aggrievedly, "Granduncle! I finally have a day off... I... Can't I just read my favorite storybook? All day long, it's either about the arbitrariness of things or about governing the country and pacifying the world. I'm so fed up with it!"

"Annoyed?" The gentleness on Zhao Mingcheng's face faded slightly, his gaze becoming deep and serious. He took a few steps closer, looking at the child before him who was still barely grown but already shouldering the empire. "Because you are the Emperor, His Majesty, the ruler of all the people! Therefore, you have to endure ten times more hardships than others, and be subject to a hundred times more constraints! You enjoy honors not afforded to ordinary people, and you also have to bear responsibilities not afforded to ordinary people! This leisure time is a luxury for you, not a matter of course."

These weighty words weighed like a huge rock on the young emperor's tender heart. His eyes reddened, and with childish resentment and grievance, he muttered quietly, "If I had known being an emperor would be so tiring... so uncomfortable... I would have given it up!" His words, tinged with the carefree willfulness of a child, also revealed a deep sense of fatigue.

"Hahaha!" Zhao Mingcheng laughed at his words, his laughter tinged with a sense of desolation and unquestionableness. "My little emperor, you absolutely cannot say that!" He restrained his smile and said seriously, his tone carrying a fatalistic heaviness, "This throne of supreme authority, how can you just choose not to accept it? From the moment you were in your mother's womb, your destiny was determined. You were born to sit on this throne and rule the world!"

The little emperor lowered his head, kicking the cracks between the gold bricks beneath his feet. He was silent for a moment, then suddenly raised his little face, his eyes filled with confusion and indignation: "Then... then why... can't my mother be the empress dowager?"

This sudden and sensitive question made the eunuch chief standing beside him turn pale instantly. He lowered his head even lower, almost burying it in his chest, and dared not breathe.

Zhao Mingcheng gazed deeply at the young emperor, as if to penetrate his childishness and discern his true thoughts. He spoke slowly, his voice steady yet carrying an invisible pressure: "Why? Your Majesty, do you feel that the Empress Dowager...is not treating you well?"

The young emperor felt a little frightened by Zhao Mingcheng's gaze, but the emotions that had been pent up for a long time still burst out: "The Queen Mother... treats me very well. I have no worries about food and clothing, and I have no shortage of money... but..." He bit his lip and lowered his voice with a deep sense of loss, "But I always feel... that there is no emotion. She treats me very strictly, and will reprimand me if I slack off even a little. She also often... often compares me with several other cousins ​​from the emperor's uncle's family, saying how diligent and intelligent they are... Sometimes, I really want to... want to tell her to let her choose the prince she likes to be the emperor! I... I don't want to compare anymore!"

This startling statement, which bordered on abdication, plunged the entire imperial study into a dead silence. The chief eunuch was so frightened that his legs were trembling.

The wrinkles on Zhao Mingcheng's face seemed to deepen. He was silent for a moment. Instead of being enraged as the eunuch chief had expected, he let out a long sigh, one that carried with it a deep understanding of the vicissitudes of life. He approached the young emperor, squatted down, and brought his eyes level with his. His old, strong hand gently pressed against the young emperor's tender shoulder, and his voice was low and solemn:

"Little Your Highness, never again mention this 'abdication' talk! This is the behavior of a coward, not the heart of an emperor! Aren't you fond of that Jingwei? What do you think of him?"

When Zhang Jingwei was mentioned, the young emperor's dull eyes instantly lit up again: "He is a great hero! He is good at using unusual tactics, dares to investigate major cases, and is not afraid of power!"

"Yes," Zhao Mingcheng said, patiently, "Your Majesty, would you like to be a hero like him, standing tall and protecting the people?"

"Of course!" The little emperor nodded vigorously.

Zhao Mingcheng changed the subject, his eyes blazing, "But your majesty, do you know why everyone says that the Prince of Jin, who recaptured the Sixteen Prefectures of Northern Yun, is the true hero."

The little emperor was stunned, with a hint of confusion and dissatisfaction in his eyes.

Zhao Mingcheng smiled faintly, patted his shoulder, and spoke clearly, word by word, "Your Majesty, remember that the reputation of a true hero lies in the hearts of the people. It lies in whether they find safety and security because of you, and whether they are grateful to you. It does not lie in the flattering words of mouth, nor in the power and prestige of a particular time and place! Zhang Jingwei solved cases and brought peace to the people, and the people praised him. This is his heroic quality. The King of Jin expanded the territory and made great contributions to the country. He is also a hero. Every hero has his own way, but the root of all is the word 'people'! If Your Majesty can put the people first and work hard to govern, how can your future achievements be compared to others?"

These words were like a revelation, instantly dispelling the young emperor's grievances and injustice. He stared blankly at his great-uncle, whose hair and beard were all white. The confusion in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a sudden enlightenment. He straightened his small dragon robe, took a step back, and turned to Zhao Mingcheng, giving a proper student's salute:

"I...I understand! Thank you, great uncle, for clearing up my confusion!" His expression was serious and solemn.

"Oh my! I can't do that! I can't do that!" Zhao Mingcheng stood up hurriedly and waved his hands repeatedly, but a relieved smile appeared on his face. He quickly bowed to the little emperor in return, "Your Majesty, please excuse me! There is a difference between the monarch and the ministers, and etiquette cannot be abolished!" He stood up straight, with a face full of kindness only shown by an elder. Like a magic trick, he took out a small oil-paper bag from his wide sleeves and waved it mysteriously in front of the little emperor.

"Your Majesty, what do you think this is?"

The little emperor's eyes lit up, and the heaviness just now was swept away. He shouted in surprise: "Wow! It's sugar-coated melon seeds!" That is the most common snack outside the palace, but to him, the emperor in the deep palace, it is rarer than any delicacy.

Zhao Mingcheng smiled and stuffed the oil-paper bag into the little emperor's hand: "After you finish this little bag, let's start doing homework, okay?"

The little emperor tightly grasped the bag of candied melon seeds with his body temperature, feeling the sweet lumps under the rough oil paper. He looked up at his great uncle's gentle and expectant eyes, nodded vigorously, and said in a clear and firm voice:

"Ok!"

Inside the imperial study, the heavy atmosphere of the moment was quietly dispelled by a small packet of sugared melon seeds. Sunlight streamed through the carved window lattices, casting warm patches of light on the ground. The young emperor carefully peeled a seed and held it in his mouth. The sweetness melted on his tongue, seemingly dispelling the bitterness of the imperial path. Zhao Mingcheng, on the other hand, picked up another memorial, his gaze calm as he began to fulfill his duties as imperial tutor and regent. Within the deep palace, the coldness of power and the warmth of family affection intertwined to form a complex and realistic picture.