His innermost thoughts were revealed, and he ventured into a fictional dynasty with the system.

The retired emperor, dressed in a bright yellow casual robe embroidered with auspicious cloud patterns and with a few strands of white hair at his temples, walked slowly with the gentle support of his personal maid.

Although she was over fifty, her back was still straight, exuding an air of authority without anger.

His eyes and brows conveyed both the majestic authority of an emperor who had weathered many storms and a gentle affection for his juniors.

The Emperor quickly stepped forward, bowed, and performed a standard courtly salute. While supporting his mother's arm, he lowered his voice.

With a hint of helplessness and a sense of "complaining," she said, "Mother, please don't spoil her too much."

Today at the lecture, the Grand Tutor was lecturing on the ancient adage of governance, "Water can carry a boat, but it can also capsize it," when she interrupted the lecture and blurted out the nonsense, "Water can also be used to cook porridge."

Enraged, the Grand Tutor smashed the jade ruler in his hand on the spot and threw his lecture notes on the ground. After returning to his residence, he summoned the imperial physician, saying that he was so angry that he could not calm down and even declined the lecture the next day.

"I just reprimanded her, and she argued back, saying that the Grand Tutor was 'narrow-minded and intolerant of dissent.' This girl is becoming more and more unruly!"

The retired emperor glanced at his son, his disdain undisguised, as if to say, "You can't even control a six-year-old child, and you still have the nerve to complain."

He then stretched out his arms and caught the little one who flew into his arms like a cannonball, gently tapping her round nose with his fingertips.

His tone was full of doting affection: "Has our Qi'er angered your father again?"

Let Grandmother see if our son has been wronged? Has your father scolded you again with a stern face?

The emperor watched from the side, on the verge of tears. Looking at the little guy who was curled up in his mother's arms and secretly making faces at him, he could only grit his teeth in silence.

Sure enough, with the Empress Dowager around, he, as the father, became an "outsider" and even lost the confidence to discipline his children.

The Emperor Emeritus gently bounced his granddaughter in his arms and rubbed his cheek against her fluffy bun, making her giggle. The solemn atmosphere in the hall instantly dissipated.

After a moment, she gently placed the little girl on the ground, and then squatted down to look her in the eye, her imperial majesty fading somewhat.

His tone softened, yet carried an undeniable solemnity: "Qi'er has always been intelligent and perceptive, understanding things instantly."

Your grandmother cherishes your rare talent most—you could recognize a thousand characters at the age of three and recite the Analects at the age of five.

She could even offer insightful opinions on court policy discussions, something that many princes and princesses could not match.

Grandmother knows you're quick-witted and always come up with fresh ideas that others wouldn't, which isn't a bad thing. But what happened today was indeed inappropriate.

She paused, then gently took the little girl's chubby hand in hers, her fingertips carrying the warmth of years gone by.

He continued, "Since you are my teacher, you are the one who guides me to the gateway of learning and to understand the principles of things, past and present."

Whether it is the Grand Tutor or the teacher who will teach you calligraphy and archery in the future, you should treat them with reverence and be respectful in your words and deeds.

Listening attentively in class, not interrupting unnecessarily, and not speaking out of turn are the duties and rules of being a student.

Grandmother knows that you think water is useful for more than just "carrying a boat and capsizing it"—that it can be used to cook porridge and water flowers—and that makes a lot of sense.

However, in a solemn setting like a lecture, to casually interrupt the teacher's lecture or interrupt with random remarks is to lose one's sense of propriety and to disrespect one's teacher.

This also disrupted classroom order, which is not the behavior expected of a bright child.

The Emperor Emeritus raised his hand and touched her bun, the pearls on the brocade ribbon swaying gently with the movement.

Her gaze softened further: "Grandmother is not blaming you for having novel ideas, but rather hoping that you understand that 'intelligence' is not just about having a quick mind, but also about knowing how to 'make sense'."

Respecting teachers and valuing their teachings, observing etiquette and rules—only then can your wisdom truly grow into a towering tree. Qi'er, think carefully, isn't what your Grandmother said true?

The hall was filled with the elegant fragrance of sandalwood, and the charcoal fire in the gilded bronze incense burner was burning brightly, making the hall feel warm and cozy.

The little girl stood with her head bowed on the bright yellow brocade carpet embroidered with cloud patterns. The pearl in her hair swayed gently with her subtle movements, making a barely audible rustling sound.

Her face flushed red like a freshly picked apple, even the tips of her ears were rosy, but she still didn't dare to look up at the person in front of her.

She secretly clenched her fingertips deep into the hem of her lotus-colored palace dress, the satin embroidered with lotus blossoms was pinched into deep wrinkles, and even her knuckles turned white.

She clenched her fingers around her sleeve, but still met the Emperor Emeritus's gaze and nodded earnestly.

"Grandmother, Father," her voice was as soft as cotton soaked in honey, yet it carried a clear hint of regret.

His voice trembled slightly at the end, "Your subject... Your subject has realized his mistake."

She secretly glanced at the emperor and saw that the anger on her father's face had faded somewhat.

Only then did he muster the courage to continue: "In class today, the Master was expounding on the great principles of governing the country. I shouldn't have casually said, 'Water can also be used to cook porridge.'"

That would be disrespectful to the Master and to learning.

As she said this, her brows furrowed slightly, as if she was regretting her rashness at the time.

"Your subject has just realized that what angered you, Master, was not that I was wrong, but that I treated the great principles of governing the country as a joke."

The Grand Tutor has been teaching me for three years, instructing me even on the exact height to raise my wrist when holding a pen, yet I've made him return home red-faced, without even finishing the lessons..."

Before she could finish speaking, her eyes welled up with tears. She sniffed, her small hands secretly clenching into fists behind her sleeves, but her tone became more resolute.

"Tomorrow morning, I will go to the storeroom to select the Taohe stone inkstone that Master loves most, and then personally grind a dish of pine soot ink—that is the fine ink that I saved up for half a year to buy."

She looked up, her eyes shining like stars with tears in them, "Your subject will kneel in front of the mansion gate and wait for the teacher until he accepts the gift and is willing to teach your subject again before he gets up."

The emperor, seated on the throne, listened to her earnest words, his eyes reddening, and the displeasure he had felt earlier due to her impropriety gradually dissipated.

The Emperor Emeritus also reached out to help the little girl up: "Since she knows she made a mistake and has the intention to repent, then this lesson was not learned in vain."

He paused, then softened his tone, "You're young, so it's normal to make mistakes occasionally. But you need to keep the concept of 'propriety' in mind. In the future, think more about how you felt today."

"Thank you, Grandmother!" The little girl's eyes lit up when she heard this, but she still didn't dare to look up and only responded softly.

He straightened up with the help of the retired emperor, still standing properly with his hands hanging down.

At this moment, the Emperor finally spoke, his voice low and gentle: "When you go to the Master's residence tomorrow, remember to bring the ink bamboo painting you did the other day."

The Master has always loved bamboo; seeing your sentiment, he probably won't truly blame you.

Looking at her eldest daughter, whose eyes were still a little red, her earlier anger had long since turned into relief.

I suddenly remembered that when I was ten years old, I was punished by kneeling in the Imperial Ancestral Temple for three hours for questioning the Grand Tutor's interpretation of "the people are the foundation of the state".

At that time, he stubbornly refused to bow his head, but his parents whispered through the window: "Admitting mistakes is not admitting defeat, it is acknowledging that you still have lessons to learn."

Looking at her eldest daughter's tearful yet resolute expression, she seemed to have gained a greater understanding than she had back then.

"Your father will accompany you tomorrow." The emperor's voice deepened, but it carried warmth.

"Let the teacher see that our Crown Princess is not only intelligent, but also has the courage to admit her mistakes and correct them."

"Thank you for reminding me, Father!" The little girl raised her eyes in surprise, just in time to meet her father's gentle gaze. She quickly lowered her head again, her cheeks turning even redder.

The Emperor Emeritus waved his hand: "Alright, it's getting late, time to go back for dinner. Go ahead and get some rest. Don't stay up too late reading at night, or you'll hurt your eyes."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you, Grandmother. Thank you, Father." The little girl curtsied again, then lifted her skirt and took small steps backward.

Only after retreating to the palace entrance did she gently turn around, stepping under the moonlight on the corridor, and quickly walk towards her own palace.

As she reached the corner of the corridor, she secretly glanced back at the direction of the warm pavilion and saw her father standing at the palace gate, nodding slightly at her. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.

A small smile subtly curved her lips as she lifted her skirt and ran off, the pearl in her hair swaying again, the tassels reflecting the moonlight and shimmering with tiny sparkles.

The night breeze outside the palace carried the warm light of the palace lanterns under the corridor, casting flickering shadows on the bluestone slabs.

The auspicious beast on the gilded lamp base holds the wick in its mouth, and the flame flickers gently in the wind, casting long and thin shadows of the two people.

The Emperor Emeritus watched as the small figure skipped and hopped around the corner of the corridor, her palace dress brushing against the moss beneath the eaves, the string of pearls in her hair gently clinking as she ran.

The crisp sound was like shattered jade falling into a silver plate, clear at first, but gradually faded by the night breeze.

Finally, disappearing into the shadows of the vermilion pillars and flying eaves, it slowly rose.

She raised her hand and gently brushed the hem of her bright yellow dress with her fingertips—it was a new tribute of cloud brocade from the Jiangnan Textile Bureau, with a dark dragon pattern that gleamed delicately under the lamplight.

Not a single wrinkle could be found; the gesture resembled a habit of someone long accustomed to a high position, carrying a touch of nonchalant authority.

Then, she turned her head to the side, glancing sideways at the emperor standing beside her. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, and the disdain in her eyes was blatant and undisguised.

It's like saying, "It was just a child's slip of the tongue in class, and you still have to lecture him with a stern face."

It seems you, as emperor, are less troublesome than that intelligent thrush in the imperial garden back in the day.

The Emperor had been tormented by his mother's sharp gaze for decades, from being helpless in his youth to now being used to it.

He pretended not to see the disdainful look, his gaze still following the fading, clear sound, but a faint smile involuntarily appeared on his lips.

Just now in the hall, the little girl had her head down, with tear stains still clinging to her eyelashes, like butterfly wings covered in morning dew.

When she apologized with red eyes, her voice was soft and trembling, and she looked just like a frightened little rabbit, with even the tips of her fingers gripping her skirt turning white.

But as soon as they turned around and were told to "go back and rest," their steps immediately became lighter, and the previous grievances seemed to be blown away by the night breeze.

The tear stains on her little face hadn't even dried yet, but she was already smiling like a crescent moon. As she ran, waving her chubby little hands, the crisp sound of the pearls in her hair chased after the wind.

It was as if the scattered stars in the sky were strung together into a flowing line, clear and crisp, flowing all the way towards her "Ninghui Palace".