“Once upon a time, there was a farmer. One bitter winter day, he found a venomous snake on the road, nearly frozen to death, and brought it home. When the snake woke up, it tried to bite him. The farmer asked, ‘I rescued you from the freezing snow; how can you repay kindness with such enmity?’
“The snake replied, ‘So what? I’m a cold-blooded animal by nature. Who told you to save me?’
“And then, can you guess what happened in the end?”
Wei Yang thought for a moment. “The snake bit the farmer to death?”
Ye Zhao shook his head, a charming yet inscrutable smile playing on his lips. He said slowly, “No. The farmer stewed the snake. He had picked it up specifically because he wanted to make snake soup. Hahaha...”
Wei Yang: “...”
His expression was a complex knot of emotions. That was certainly an unexpected ending.
“You made that up too, didn't you?”
Ye Zhao replied, “Of course. Otherwise, what kind of snake would be stupid enough to skip hibernation in the dead of winter just to freeze itself to death for someone else’s benefit?”
The onlookers fell into a collective silence. They were speechless, left with nothing to say.
“The stories Lord Tianshu tells are truly... as nostalgic as ever.” Emperor Wei sat on the ground, watching the two figures perched in the tree on the opposite cliff. His tone was melancholy and full of reminiscence; he had paused for a long while before settling on that particular descriptor.
As one of the few fortunate enough to have witnessed the Emperor’s bedtime scenes in his youth, Eunuch Babao added with a smile, “This servant remembers that His Majesty was most moved by the story of the monk. You would fall asleep the moment you heard it.”
“Heh...” The Emperor gave a dry, emotionless chuckle.
At that moment, Ye Zhao’s flat, narrative voice drifted over from the other side. Leaning his head back against the stone wall behind him, he repeated dryly, “Once upon a time, there was a mountain. On the mountain, there was a temple. In the temple, there was an old monk telling a story to a little monk. What was the story?”
“He said: Once upon a time, there was a mountain. On the mountain, there was a temple. In the temple, there was an old monk telling a story to a little monk. He said...”
Wei Yang realized something was wrong and interrupted, “Why do you keep repeating the beginning? You’re looping!”
“Quiet!” Ye Zhao gave the boy’s backside a light pat and said seriously, “Listen to the story properly. No talking while eating or sleeping—that’s what makes a good child.”
Wei Yang couldn't help but scoff inwardly. At the same time, a thought occurred to him, and he fell silent, looking aggrieved.
After a long while, he asked in a muffled voice, “Am I... a very bad child?”
Ye Zhao didn't look down at him, answering casually, “You’re just a brat. A few good thrashings usually fix that.”
...
Wei Yang leaned into Ye Zhao’s embrace, listening to the steady heartbeat in his ear, and lowered his eyes.
“Do you hate me? Even if you do, you can’t throw me down. Otherwise, I’ll... I’ll...”
“I’ll be scared.”
The voice from his arms was low. Unlike his previous bluster and threats, the speaker had lost all his former arrogance. He was like a tiny kitten that had been injured—still refusing to admit defeat, yet fragile enough to make one’s heart ache.
He was truly terrified.
Ye Zhao’s arms tightened slightly around the child. He looked down at the top of the boy’s head, then looked back up after a moment, staring calmly ahead. “Don’t be afraid,” he said leisurely. “I told you I’d keep you alive, and aren't we doing just fine right now?”
It wasn't a soft consolation, but the words, spoken so nonchalantly, felt strangely like a solemn promise.
“I won’t leave you behind. You might be a brat, but honestly, brats are much more entertaining to play with.”
Wei Yang: “...”
He looked up at Ye Zhao, his gaze half-hesitant and half-complicated. Pouting, he muttered, “You... you... bastard!”
Having said his piece, he quickly lowered his head again, sulking.
Wei Yang had hesitated for a moment before a word the Duke of State had once used to curse someone else flashed into his mind. In this situation, though he didn't quite understand the full weight of the word "bastard," he found himself spitting it out anyway.
Undeniably, his heart felt much more settled.
Ye Zhao was shocked. Wasn't that the word Old Man Wei always used to curse him? How had this brat learned it?
“Hey, hey! Kids shouldn't learn swear words from adults.”
Wei Yang kept his eyes downcast and whispered again, “You are a bastard.”
Ye Zhao looked up at the sky and replied indifferently, “Fine, fine. Isn't it time for you, little bastard, to sleep? I’ve finished my stories.”
“You’re the bastard, I’m not...”
“Right, right. Is the little bastard sleepy yet? If you are, get some rest.”
“I told you, I’m not—”
Ye Zhao continued to hum in agreement absentmindedly. Before long, the person in his arms fell silent. He looked down; Wei Yang’s eyes were closed, and he had drifted off to sleep.
Ye Zhao let out a soft chuckle and thought to himself, *Little bastard.*
The night pressed on. The moon slowly hid behind the clouds. Beneath the hazy moonlight, Ye Zhao braved the wind, gently patting the child’s back.
Amidst the mountain cliffs, a low humming drifted with the wind.
It was an unknown melody, winding and gentle, perfectly suited for a quiet night. The slightly raspy voice hummed the tune as it floated into the distance.
This familiar melody was one Emperor Wei had also heard in his youth.
It was shortly after he had ascended the throne.
As a prince who had never been favored by his father, his daily life had been precarious. When he suddenly inherited the Great Seat, the first emotion to surface wasn't joy, but trepidation and unease.
Back then, he couldn't sleep for nights on end. Once, after that person discovered his plight, he had sat by the bedside, patting his back while humming a gentle tune.
That was the most unforgettable warmth of Emperor Wei’s youth.
“It really is him...”
The people nearby saw the Emperor standing dazed for a long while before he suddenly sighed.
With a little thought, they more or less understood what the Emperor meant.
“Back then, Your Majesty was much better behaved than the Fourth Prince,” Pei Shian remarked. Having lived through those times, he remembered many things about the Emperor’s childhood.
Hearing this, the Emperor chuckled. He was well aware of his fourth son’s "reputation."
“That is true. Yang’er has been spoiled by me. I believe that after this ordeal, his temper might improve somewhat.”
He was referring to how Ye Zhao had deliberately frightened Wei Yang. It was only after Ye Zhao brought the boy through the life-and-death escape that the Emperor realized why he had said those things.
He hadn't truly intended to abandon the boy; rather, he had taken the initiative to scare Wei Yang so thoroughly that he wouldn't dare cause trouble. It saved time and avoided unnecessary complications.
It was indeed Tianshu’s style.
Pei Shian smiled. “I fear the Fourth Prince will never want to see Tianshu again for the rest of his life.”
“Hahaha...”
The group shared a laugh.
The dark indigo sky began to brighten. When the first light of dawn pierced through the layers of clouds and fell upon Ye Zhao, the two were finally being rescued.
Moving his stiff arms and body, Ye Zhao raised a hand to shield his eyes from the piercing sunlight. Gazing at the sunrise in the east, a smile touched his face. His voice, dry and raspy, rang out: “Fatty Gold, get up. Get up and watch the sunrise.”
“You’ll regret it if you don't.”
Wei Yang was already strapped to the back of another rescuer. He hadn't been sleeping deeply; awakened by Ye Zhao’s voice, he realized it was light out. Noticing the distance between himself and Ye Zhao, he instinctively reached out to grab him in a panic.
Only when he realized he was securely tied to someone else's back did he realize it was a false alarm.
Ye Zhao clearly saw the entire process—from panic to confusion to realization—and laughed without restraint.
Ye Zhao sat easily on the tree branch, one leg hooked over it. He pointed toward the brilliant clouds in the distance and said to Wei Yang, “Look! The sun rises in the east, and the long night turns to white. There is nothing that cannot be overcome. If there is, then trample it underfoot!”
Perhaps the scenery was simply too magnificent, for Ye Zhao’s words carried a touch of grand ambition and the arrogance of one who looked down upon the world.
The brilliant light of dawn reflected in his ink-black eyes, merging with the darkness within to create a captivating presence.
With such a posture and expression, it seemed as if Ye Zhao had once sat upon a high throne, commanding the world.
However, the person who saw his actions most clearly didn't feel any soul-shaking revelation.
“Wow! The sun is so big. It’s so red!”
Seeing the exquisite scene before him, Wei Yang offered his sincere praise. However, with so little literary ink in his belly, this was the best description he could muster.
Ye Zhao: “...”
Forget it. Highbrow music finds few followers; playing the lute to a cow was likely exactly what this felt like.
Ye Zhao suddenly changed the subject. “Fatty Gold, aren't you afraid of heights anymore?”
The moment the words left his mouth, Wei Yang remembered he was still hanging over a cliff on someone’s back. His body stiffened, his small mouth working as if he wanted to say something but was too terrified to speak.
Seeing his delayed reaction of fear, Ye Zhao laughed heartily. “It’s fine, it’s fine. You won’t be scared after you experience this a few more times.”
At this moment, Wei Yang felt an intense hatred for Ye Zhao for waking him up. He screamed with a trembling voice, “Ye Zhao!!!”
“Present~” Ye Zhao answered cheerfully. As he tightened the rope around his waist, his beaming smile lingered before Wei Yang for only a moment before he twisted his body and slid nimbly down the rope.
There was no rain today. The fire that had burned through the night on West Mountain was still not extinguished, and the forest was shrouded in layers of smoke and haze.
When Ye Zhao and the others met Emperor Wei’s party at the mountain path intersection, they were covered in soot and dust, looking utterly wretched.
The moment they met, everyone was overcome with emotion.
“My son!...”
“Dad! Mom! I’m back!” Ye Zhao waved his hand excitedly.
But as Ye Zhao ran toward his parents, he suddenly saw his father’s arm swing upward.
???
He hadn't even reacted by the time his father’s palm was inches from his face.
Seeing the confusion and innocence in Ye Zhao’s eyes, the strength drained from the elder Ye’s hand. His eyes were filled only with heartache, pain, and struggle.
As his palm pressed against Ye Zhao’s cheek, Ye Zhao heard his father’s trembling, hoarse voice. “How could you be so reckless... Do you know how high that was!”
“Why are you trying to be a hero? Is being a hero something you should be doing? Huh?”
The elder Ye gripped Ye Zhao’s arm tightly, wrinkling the fabric of his sleeve, refusing to let go. His moist eyes seemed to shimmer with tears, filled with lingering fear and panic.
“You are my son! I don't want you to be some hero. I only want you to live a healthy life. Do you hear me!”
Ye Zhao: “...”
He remained silent for a long while before replying respectfully, “Yes, Father.”
Seeing Ye Zhao’s calm and serious expression, the elder Ye stopped talking and finally gave him a fierce hug.
Ye Zhao was indeed his father’s treasure, and had been since childhood.
He didn't need Ye Zhao to achieve great things; he only wanted him to be healthy, happy, and alive.
Ye Zhao’s mother’s expression softened nearby. Her usually stern face now showed the relaxation that follows intense tension.
The onlookers were moved by the interaction between the Ye father and son.
But as a matter of urgency, Ye Zhao had one more important thing to report to Emperor Wei.
“Your Majesty, I have a lead on the true culprit of this case. May I report the details once we return?”
The group was stunned. Emperor Wei looked particularly surprised. Ye Zhao already knew who the mastermind was?
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
金大胖 | Fatty Gold | Ye Zhao's nickname for Wei Yang (the 4th Prince).
熊孩子 | Brat / Bear child | A common Chinese term for a troublesome or spoiled child.
曲高和寡 | Highbrow music finds few followers | An idiom meaning something is too refined or niche for the general public to appreciate.
对牛弹琴 | Playing the lute to a cow | An idiom meaning to address the wrong audience or cast pearls before swine.
日出东方，长夜即白 | The sun rises in the east, and the long night turns to white | A poetic way of saying dawn has arrived and the darkness is over.
天枢 | Tianshu | Ye Zhao's former identity/title as a legendary strategist/mentor.
八宝 | Babao | The name of the Emperor's eunuch attendant.
裴世安 | Pei Shian | A high-ranking official/noble, likely the father of Pei Yunting.
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