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".
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