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One sunny day in the spring of the fifth year of Zhaochen (but my mood was like a torrential downpour!).
I am Xuan Chen, the esteemed Crown Prince of Yan Dynasty, and I have just turned eight years old this year. Originally, today should have been a perfect day, filled with praise from the Grand Tutor, followed by riding a pony at the training ground, and then enjoying some snacks at my mother's palace.
But! Everything was ruined by my unkind father!
Just after Chen Shi (7-9 AM), I was confidently reciting the last section of "The Strategies for Governing the Country" to the Grand Tutor when I saw Chief Eunuch Yu's smiling face, like an old chrysanthemum, appear at the door of the study, followed by two eunuchs carrying large boxes.
"Your Highness," Chief Steward Yu bowed, his voice so respectful it sent shivers down one's spine, "His Majesty has decreed that, from today onwards, these memorials shall be reviewed by Your Highness first, and you shall write your own reports before submitting them to His Majesty for perusal."
My expression at that moment must have been as dumbfounded as a newcomer to the palace. Pointing to the box full of bamboo slips (and several stacks of new thread-bound books), my voice trembled: "Eunuch Yu, are you mistaken? I'm still a child! These... these are things I should be touching?"
The steward's smile deepened: "Your Highness is a man of exceptional talent. His Majesty said that it is precisely because of this that he needs to be trained from a young age. His Majesty also instructed this old servant to convey a message..." He cleared his throat, mimicking my father's icy tone, "'Tell him that if the decision is not made well, he can forget about the autumn hunt next month.'"
The Grand Tutor stroked his beard, a look of satisfaction on his face that said, "Your Majesty is wise, Your Highness, keep up the good work!"
I:"!!!"
Survival Manual (Prince's Childhood Edition) Rule 1: When your emperor father starts talking to you about "experience," it usually means he's preparing to quit and go off to enjoy himself.
Clinging to my last shred of hope, I asked expectantly, "What about my father? Shouldn't he teach me first?"
Steward Yu smiled and said, "His Majesty and the Empress set off early this morning for the Lishan Hot Spring Palace. His Majesty said that this trip is ostensibly for 'rest and recuperation,' but in reality it is... uh, for their honeymoon."
Honeymoon!
I almost spat blood onto the "Strategies for Governing the Country"! I'm already eight years old! And they actually went on a honeymoon?! And by leaving me in the palace reviewing memorials?!
Survival Manual (Crown Prince's Resentful Version) Rule #2: Parents are true love, children are an accident. Especially when your parents are emperor and empress, this accident usually manifests as—free child labor.
Thus began my tragic life as "regency," a mere eight-year-old prince of the Yan Dynasty, whose height was not even as tall as the memorial box.
All day long, I was confined to the Imperial Study. To my left were piles of memorials, and to my right stood the Grand Tutor and Chief Eunuch Yu, their faces stern like door gods.
The first memorial was a report from the Governor of Jiangnan Circuit on the flood situation this spring. I bit my pen, thought for a long time, and wrote: "Known, to be handled properly." The Grand Tutor spoke up quietly beside me: "Your Highness, for such a flood situation, you should inquire with the Ministry of Works whether there are any contingency plans, order the local authorities to open granaries for relief, and strictly prevent disease." ...Okay, cross that out and rewrite.
The second memorial was from the border general requesting additional winter clothing. I understood! I wrote it down with a flourish: "Granted! The soldiers mustn't be allowed to freeze!" Chief Steward Yu whispered a reminder: "Your Highness, you must specify the quantity, which warehouse it will be transported from, and when it will arrive." ...How would I know any of that!
The third memorial was even more outrageous! A prefect wrote a lengthy memorial of ten thousand words, arguing that a white tortoise appearing in his jurisdiction was an "auspicious omen" and requesting the court to commend it. I was so angry I wanted to throw my pen down: "What's there to write about! It's just a tortoise!" The Grand Tutor held my hand: "Your Highness, even if you consider it nonsense, you must refute it properly to show the court that it is not being deceived." So I wrote, holding my breath: "I understand. The essence of governance lies in the people's livelihood, not in auspicious omens."
I feel like my little head is about to explode! Do these adults think about these things all day long? Floods, winter clothes, and turtles?!
What was most infuriating was that at dinner time, Aunt Qiuhe, the head palace maid serving the Empress Dowager, arrived, bringing me my favorite lotus-shaped pastries, made by the Empress Dowager herself, along with a letter. The Empress Dowager's handwriting on the letter was gentle:
"My dear son, it is as if I am seeing you in person as I read this letter. Is the review of the memorials going smoothly? Do not be impatient, and ask the Grand Tutor and the other ministers for advice on all matters. Your father and mother are both well. The maple leaves on Mount Li are turning red, and the hot springs are warm and inviting. I hope you can focus on your studies and not worry about me."
As I munched on a sweet lotus-shaped pastry, staring at the pile of unfinished memorials, tears welled up in my eyes. My mother still loves me! But… but the price of that love is too high! They're enjoying the hot springs and autumn leaves, while I'm stuck here struggling with a turtle!
"Aunt Qiuhe," I asked, tears welling in my eyes, "Did Father and Mother really just go to see the autumn leaves and soak in the hot springs? Did they say when they would be back?"
Aunt Qiuhe couldn't help but chuckle and patted my head: "Your Highness, don't worry, His Majesty and the Empress will be back soon. The Empress also said that once Your Highness has finished dealing with these memorials, she will bring back the most fun puppets from Mount Li."
Okay... for the sake of the little wooden puppet.
I sniffed, picked up my vermilion brush again, and began my next memorial concerning the losses of grain transported by the Grand Canal. As I wrote, I silently recited in my mind:
Father, you wait! When I grow up, I'm going on my honeymoon too! Then I'll dump all the memorials on your grandson to review!
Survival Manual (The Crown Prince's Ultimate Insight): If you want to wear the crown, you must bear its weight. If you want a honeymoon, you must first trick your son. This is probably the "legacy" passed down between royal fathers and sons.
Sigh, being a crown prince is tough. Especially being a crown prince to an emperor and empress who love to abandon their children and go on their honeymoon—it's even tougher!
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