[Various] The Deposed Crown Prince's Survival Story

In the study of Ying Zheng in Xianyang Palace. (Source: LeWen Novels)

It was dusk, and the maids lit the palace lanterns one by one, starting from the palace gate and arranging them along the four walls, finally converging at Ying Zheng's throne, illuminating the entire study as bright as day.

Ying Zheng reviewed a memorial, put down his pen, rubbed his slightly sore wrists, and tugged at his slightly tight collar.

For those familiar with Ying Zheng, this action was a signal that he was thirsty.

At this moment, palace servants familiar with Ying Zheng served tea.

Ying Zheng didn't even glance at the newcomer, his gaze remaining fixed on the memorials on the table. He casually picked up a teacup with his right hand and took a large gulp.

With a "pfft," a large mouthful of tea was spat out of his mouth.

"How dare you! What is this... Fusu! What are you doing here?" Ying Zheng, who was about to throw the teacup at someone, looked at his son sitting by the long table with an innocent and bewildered expression. He angrily threw the teacup onto the long table, wiped the tea that had accidentally splashed on his face with his sleeve, and said angrily.

"Su'er... Su'er... Su'er saw that Father was unhappy because of Grandmother's matter, so... I wanted to coax Father." Fusu shrank his neck and said awkwardly.

Because of Mao Jiao's persuasion, Ying Zheng did bring Zhao Ji back from Yongcheng. However, a broken mirror cannot be mended, and spilled water cannot be recovered. It was not only impossible for Ying Zheng and Zhao Ji to return to their former intimacy, but Ying Zheng was also filled with resentment because he was forced to bring Zhao Ji back.

Outsiders might not be able to see that Ying Zheng was smiling on the outside but angry on the inside, but in front of those close to him, Ying Zheng didn't bother to hide it.

"So, you want to make tea for your father?" Ying Zheng casually pushed aside the memorials on the table, wiped the tea stains off the table with his sleeve, then lifted Fusu onto the table and made him sit facing him. He tapped Fusu's nose and asked with a smile, "Tell me! Who taught you this trick to please your father?"

Fusu tilted his little head, frowned and thought seriously, his little feet swinging involuntarily. After thinking for a while, he slowly said, "No one taught Su'er. Su'er just saw that Father was unhappy and wanted to do something to make Father happy."

"To make Father happy..." I almost got poisoned to death by you naughty child. I've never drunk anything so hard... no, it's strange. It's like adding a handful of bitter herbs to Huoxiang Zhengqi Water, making Ying Zheng feel like his soul has been elevated. "Hehe... whatever makes you happy."

Ying Zheng didn't want to recall the taste of that cup of tea, but Fusu wouldn't let him off the hook, asking again, "Father, was the tea Su'er brewed delicious?"

"It's...delicious." That's impossible.

"Not only does it taste good, but it also allows you to instantly experience all the flavors of life." It has bitterness, spiciness, sourness, and sweetness. What exactly did you put in your tea, kid?

"Let my father understand the meaning of life... To live, to live well."

"My soul has been elevated." I always feel like I've died once.

Seeing Ying Zheng's expression of "I'm floating and swaying," Fusu picked up the teacup he had placed on the long table, smelled it, and then said with a look of disgust, "Is it really that good? It's a dark, murky mess... and it smells so awful, even I don't have the courage to try it."

"Hehe..." Can I beat him up? No! Can I scold him? No! Then I'll just say nothing.

I don't blame heaven or earth; who told me to give up perfectly good wine and insist on drinking tea instead?

These days, alcoholic beverages have low alcohol content, so it's okay to drink them like a beverage; however, tea tastes so-so. There's no roasted tea, only compressed tea, and it's not brewed but boiled, which tastes a bit like Chinese medicine. Many people don't like to drink it, so the general public prefers alcohol to tea.

However, Ying Zheng often had to stay up late due to his busy official duties. Tea could remind him to stay up late, but wine could not. Therefore, over the years, Ying Zheng developed the habit of drinking tea to quench his thirst.

Brewing tea is different from steeping tea. When steeping tea, as long as you're not an idiot, you can just add tea leaves and hot water. Even if you can't brew a cup of tea with a truly artistic feel, you can still brew a cup that tastes good and satisfies most people's tastes. Brewing tea is a high-end, fancy, and classy activity. Brewing tea is like boiling tea leaves to make soup. Some people with strange tastes will even add seasonings such as scallions, ginger, orange peel, mint, dates, and salt. For modern people, drinking tea is simply unbearable.

Therefore, for a beginner, brewing a cup of tea with such a strange and unforgettable taste is not a difficult task.

Where is Zhao Gao?

He couldn't scold his son, since his son was only doing it to be filial; nor could he blame himself, since the King of Qin wasn't a masochist, so he should blame Zhao Gao.

"Isn't Zhao Gao always the one who brews Father's tea? How come it's you now? Where is he?"

Could it be that you're hiding and too afraid to see me? If you're so capable of sending that brat to curry favor, at least make sure the tea is brewed properly, and then have the brat claim it as his own and hand it over to me. I promise I won't hold your crime of deceiving the emperor accountable!

You bastard Zhao Gao! You're getting bolder and bolder! You had Fusu serve me this kind of tea? Are you trying to poison me? Or do you want me to take my anger out on Fusu?

"Oh, Zhao Gao said he was tired and went to rest." Resting is also sleeping, and fainting is also sleeping, so Zhao Gao should be considered to be resting, right?

As for how he fainted? Don't ask me. It wasn't me who did it. It's all his fault. He not only doesn't let me be filial to my father, but he also runs into my fist.

"Rest!" Ying Zheng snorted coldly.

"Father, don't be angry, don't be angry. Zhao Gao is bad. I'll teach him a lesson later. Don't ruin your health over a servant." Seeing Ying Zheng's chest heaving violently, Fu Su jumped off the long table and, imitating an adult, stroked Ying Zheng's chest as he spoke.

Looking at his well-behaved and adorable chubby son, Ying Zheng couldn't resist grabbing Fusu, holding him in his arms, kissing his rosy cheeks, and saying, "He is truly your father's good son."

"Hehe..." Fusu covered the spot where Ying Zheng had kissed him, chuckled for a while, and complained, "Father's beard is prickly!"

So what if I stab you? I'm going to stab you anyway!

After saying that, Ying Zheng stuck out his mouth again, as if to prick Fusu.

Fusu struggled to play the game of "eagle catching chicks" with Ying Zheng for a while before finally managing to get Ying Zheng to kiss him on the other side of his cheek.

Ugh! Is it easy for me? Serving the boss is really tough! I'm suffering, I'm tired, I just want to eat some melon seeds, and why does the boss have to prick me with his beard?

"Father, it's okay to prick Su'er, Su'er's skin is thick and she's not afraid of being pricked. But Father, you can't prick Su'er's younger brother and sister like that, it will hurt them." Fusu complained, kneading his round little face like he was kneading dough.

Looking at Fusu's smooth skin that blushed easily when touched, and hearing him say that he had "thick skin," Ying Zheng couldn't help but smile inwardly. "You're quite good to the one who wasn't born yet, but what about Gao'er?"

Ying Zheng had only said it casually; he hadn't expected his half-brothers to have a particularly deep relationship. But to his utter surprise, Fusu would actually…

Let's leave this kind of story, which makes Ying Zheng's liver ache just thinking about it, for later.

"Second brother... he... Su'er has been quite busy lately, so he hasn't gone yet, but it's alright, there's plenty of time in the future." Fu Su put down his hand, his dark eyes darting around, and quickly found an explanation for his behavior. "By the way, Father, are you in a better mood?" Fu Su awkwardly changed the subject, while not forgetting to give Ying Zheng a big smile.

"Alright, alright, seeing you makes your father feel better," Ying Zheng said with a smile as he looked at Fusu.

"That's good. Father, I'm relieved that you're in a good mood." Fusu breathed a sigh of relief and was about to speak when he heard his stomach rumble like thunder.

Fusu was taken aback at first, then his face turned red involuntarily. He covered his lower abdomen with both hands and said with a troubled expression, "Father, Su'er is hungry. Su'er would like to go back to the palace for a meal first."

Looking at the embarrassed Fusu, Ying Zheng couldn't help but hug his son tightly and burst into laughter, "Hahaha! Silly child! Now that you're here with your father, why go back to the palace? Does your father lack even a bite to eat?"

"Great! This is a perfect opportunity to see if the chefs in Father's palace have improved their skills." Fusu said, rubbing his belly with a look of longing.

Because he often worked late into the night, Ying Zheng would eat some porridge, pastries and other similar foods as a late-night snack. Now that his son, who liked to eat meat, had come, he raised the level of his late-night snacks even higher. Fortunately, Fusu often came to Ying Zheng's place for meals, and the kitchen always had his favorite foods on hand. So, at Ying Zheng's command, the food was quickly served.

Logically, they should sit at separate tables and eat separately, but Fusu complained that sitting too far apart made their father-son relationship seem distant. Therefore, whenever Fusu came to Ying Zheng's palace for a meal, the two of them would always sit intimately at the same table… well, they would sabotage each other, giving each other the food they didn't like, and then eating all the food they liked, showing absolutely no filial piety or consideration.

Coincidentally, Ying Zheng and Fusu shared similar likes and dislikes: they loved eating meat and hated all vegetables.

Therefore, every time the two ate, it was like they were fighting.

Even the best things lose their appeal when enjoyed alone, but if someone tries to take them from you, you can find something endearing even the worst food. The same applies to eating.

Unbeknownst to him, Ying Zheng, who had been lacking appetite for several days, quietly devoured two jin of flatbread and a large plate of mutton.

Clutching his slightly bloated stomach from eating too much, Ying Zheng took a sip of tea that wasn't brewed by Fusu and said, "Su'er, do you know why your father, despite being unhappy, still insisted on bringing your grandmother back to Xianyang?"