An eight-year-old kid emptied his scumbag father's warehouse and followed his grandparents into

Although the dinner in Qingliang Palace was exquisite and the emperor had the happiest meal in recent days, Xu Zize did not eat much, and the delicious delicacy was not as good as the fish and chicken porridge he shared with the maid.

When Yun Shu and Yun Wang pulled his sleeves and wanted to go to Wude Hall together, Emperor Wu of Yan glanced at them, and the two children immediately fell silent and let go.

"My brother and I have important matters to discuss." The emperor's tone was calm, but it instantly made the twins droop. Yun Wang pursed his lips and glared at his father, his eyes red.

Xu Zize originally thought that he could rest after offering his suggestions, but unexpectedly, Emperor Wu of Yan had already shown great interest in his novel political views and was not willing to let him go easily.

Although Jing Chunxi and he had been nourished in the space like a celestial being, the days of exhaustion had been exhausting. Although he was only responsible for assisting the maid, it wasn't easy either. Furthermore, it was the first time for them both to take care of three babies, so they were completely overwhelmed.

This morning, he rode back to the palace before daybreak and has not had a rest since.

The emperor seemed oblivious, surprised that his eldest son was still so energetic—unaware that the Lingquan pastries Jing Chunxi had prepared were secretly refreshing him. Xu Zize saw the glittering light in his father's eyes and knew that tonight would likely be a long conversation.

"Ze'er, stay in the Qinzheng Palace tonight and accompany your father." These words came so suddenly that Xu Zize's nose felt sore. Suddenly, he felt as if he were back in his childhood, when he was a hostage in the palace and his grandmother had called him "Ze'er" by gently tapping the quilt.

"Put on your pajamas. Father wants to talk to you."

"My son, I obey."

After the palace maids had washed and dressed them, the two lay side by side on the gilded dragon couch. The emperor deliberately moved the jade pillow closer, and under the brocade quilt, their shoulders rested against each other, and the warmth of their bodies penetrated through the thin nightgown.

Xu Zize suddenly felt his eyes getting hot. This warmth seemed like the body temperature of his mother holding him in her arms when he was a child, flowing through his heart like a spring stream.

In the silence, he suddenly heard his father sigh, "After your mother passed away, I have neglected you..." The emperor's voice was a little hoarse. "I have shown little concern for you over the years. Do you blame me?"

Xu Zize's throat choked slightly: "I dare not."

"It's not that I don't dare, but that I don't blame you." The emperor turned to look at him, his gaze reflected in the bright yellow curtains. "I remember when you were little, you fell down the garden steps. Seeing your father, you gritted your teeth and didn't shed a single tear, but hid in the plum forest, secretly making paper cranes for your mother."

Xu Zize's fingertips trembled slightly. It turned out that his father remembered all those details that had been forgotten by time.

"Your Highness, my son, will be a father in the future. You should know that parents love their children and have far-sighted plans." The emperor tucked in the corner of the quilt for him. "You must know that I am alone on the throne—" He trailed off and patted the back of his hand. "Today, I see that you have a deep understanding of politics. I am very pleased."

The night wind rustled the palace lanterns, casting the shadows of father and son on the embroidered gold tent. Xu Zize suddenly realized that the long nights he had walked alone in those years were the most painful cultivation.

Xu Zize shook his head slightly in the darkness, his voice a little hoarse: "Your Highness understands your father's painstaking efforts."

He felt the warmth of his father's hand through the brocade quilt, like a silent mountain range. "Those years I spent in the palace with my grandmother, studying and practicing martial arts. On winter nights when there wasn't enough charcoal, I felt the cold when I was bullied and mocked by the princes. But now I think, if I hadn't experienced those things, I might not have understood the suffering of the people."

The emperor sighed, a sigh filled with complex emotions. "I'm deeply comforted by your understanding. As the crown prince... the future emperor, you must understand that this vast empire cannot be governed from the throne room alone."

He paused, his voice growing deeper. "Your Majesty has allowed you to secretly tour various regions over the years, witnessing disasters and wars firsthand. This is to remind you that the Emperor's thoughts can determine the lives of countless people."

"I remember the people left homeless after the floods in Jiujiang and Jian'an counties, and the orphans who lost their loved ones in the tyranny of the Qiantang and Pingjiang counties," Xu Zize replied softly. "Every time I close my eyes, those scenes are still before my eyes."

"Okay, I'll remember that." The emperor's voice was filled with relief. "You must remember that a ruler should always have the people's heart in mind. When you ascend the throne, don't be blinded by the flattery in the court. Always remember the suffering of the people you witnessed in your youth."

Father and son lay side by side, chatting away, from Xu Zize's childhood anecdotes to the current state affairs. The emperor's words were filled with earnest instruction. Although he didn't explicitly mention the succession, every word he said was a tip for the future monarch.

It was not until the sound of the night watch indicated that it was past three o'clock that the emperor said in a gentle voice, "Go to sleep. You have to attend the early court tomorrow." As he said this, he patted Xu Zize's shoulder gently, just like he did when he was a child.

Xu Zize closed his eyes beside his father and felt so at ease for the first time in many years.

At this moment, they are not only the emperor and his subject, but also an ordinary father and son, who have regained the family affection they have lost for many years in the deep palace at night.

At 5:30 a.m. the next day, the Yangyang bell rang, and all the civil and military officials lined up on both sides of the Danchi.

When the first rays of morning light penetrated the carved lattice windows, Emperor Wu of Yan raised his hand to signal, and Eunuch Pu immediately unfolded the urgent memorial from the northern border, eight hundred miles away. His shrill voice shook the hall:

"Prince Hong reported: After five rounds of negotiations and coercion, the Tatars finally agreed to cede ten thousand hectares of grassland on the southern slopes of the Yin Mountains, pay an annual tribute of five thousand cattle and sheep, ten thousand furs, and a thousand fine horses, and sign a sixty-year truce—"

Before he finished speaking, there was a commotion in the court.

The old ministers stroked their beards and nodded, and the military generals relaxed their brows. Only when they heard the words "management of vast grasslands" did the joy of the officials gradually froze.

"I believe we should establish a Protectorate!" The Minister of War stepped forward first, "Send 30,000 elite troops to the area and implement the military farming system—"

"Absolutely not!" the Minister of Revenue interrupted hastily. "Daqing Dynasty's military expenditures have already taken up 30% of the national treasury. The truce has just eased things. Wouldn't establishing a Protectorate be worse?"

The Minister of Works interjected, "Why not relocate the refugees from the Central Plains to cultivate the land?"

"Nonsense!" The old Hanlin leaned on his tablet, shaking. "How can nomadic land be cultivated? Besides, for Han officials to control nomads is like driving sheep into the mouth of a tiger!"

As the argument intensified, the emperor suddenly knocked on the dragon throne, and the argument suddenly stopped.

In the silence that filled the hall, Xu Zize, in black clothes, stepped out from the jade steps and said in a loud voice, "Your son, please propose a proposal—why not give the grassland to the Rouran Kingdom for its administration, and let all the produce belong to them?"

The entire court was in an uproar. The Chief Censor nearly dropped his ivory tablet: "This is a loss of power and a humiliation to the country!"

Xu Zize was unhurried: "Tartar is 3,000 miles away from our capital. The annual cost of the garrison is one million taels of silver. If we want to appease the surrendered herdsmen, we must have a large amount of food every year.

The Rouran and Tatar share common customs and language, and have rarely engaged in conflict for decades. They have gained some prestige among the smaller northern states, but lack the ability to invade Daqing. Governing them would save both money and reassure the people."

He turned to face the ministers, his gaze blazing, "What's more, the Rouran Crown Prince once saved General Jing Er, so this is a good opportunity to return the favor."

Lord Feng suddenly clapped his hands in praise, "Your Highness, you are truly foresighted! With such a generous gift, the Rouran will surely cleave wholeheartedly to our dynasty." He held his hu tablet and bowed, "I second your proposal! This is a strategy of trading the grasslands for a century of peace on the border! Other nations will surely follow the Rouran's example."

Prince Jing stepped out with a smile and said, "Although Rouran is not a vassal state of Daqing, it still pays tribute every year. I remember that the sable furs that Rouran paid as tribute are still piled up in the warehouse! If we give them a piece of pasture to raise sables, they can pay tribute with more good furs." His humorous words caused laughter in the whole hall, and the tense atmosphere immediately melted away.

The emperor finally nodded and wrote on the edict with his red brush:

“First, the Prince of Zhunhong will sign a treaty with the Tatars today;

Second, the grasslands were ceded to the Rouran for administration, with Jing Chang'an as a special envoy for a period of ten years, with a five-year renewal period.

Thirdly—” He looked up at Xu Zize, a smile on his lips, “Give the eldest prince ten hu of East China Sea pearls to commend his foresight and strategic vision.”

The morning sun just happened to shine on Xu Zize's court robe with coiled dragon pattern. The gazes of the civil and military officials in the hall as they looked at the young prince were quietly filled with new and profound meaning.