They replied in unison, "Your Majesty, we are here."
Emperor Chongle stroked the baby who was still whimpering softly in his arms and said meaningfully, "Since all my beloved ministers are helpless, then I can only rely on you. One of you is well-versed in literature, and the other is knowledgeable and worldly-wise. You will surely be able to help the little dragon fly smoothly, won't you?"
Both of them were startled.
His Majesty's words were a blatant threat. They were all personally promoted to this position by His Majesty, so how could they not understand His Majesty's style of doing things?
They must be both useful and loyal.
Even if His Majesty were to order them to die now, they would not hesitate to draw their swords and commit suicide.
They solemnly agreed, and after the court session, they went to the study.
Just as the other ministers had said, the little dragon was still clinging to His Majesty, and the extent to which His Majesty indulged it was something no one had ever seen before.
"I know you want to eat more pastries, but can you really eat that many? They're all hidden in my sleeves, and my sleeves aren't your magic bag."
"If you like, have someone make a hundred pastries every day, and you can leave them wherever you want until you're tired of them, how about that?"
Emperor Chong Le's words finally reminded the cub of the shadow of being dominated by Cake Mountain.
He shook his head vigorously, then wobbled and struggled to pick up his pastry, feeding it to Emperor Chongle.
The baby can't eat, so the dad eats.
Emperor Chongle sneered, stared at the little dragon cub, and took a bite of the pastry that was being fed to him.
But the look in his eyes was as if he wanted to devour a little dragon cub in one bite.
The boy, now obedient, dared not provoke his sick father. He readily slid off Emperor Chong Le and, as he crawled out, bumped his head on the tip of the person's shoe.
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