I had intended to spend my childhood in peace, but the trees long for tranquility while the wind never ceases; just because you don't want to stir up trouble doesn't mean others won't come looking for it. Only two days had passed since the horse-riding incident, and a pack of brats showed up again. Although I am young myself—only five or six years old—they were all between three and six, and each was clutching a puppy, looking to play with me.
I barely have enough to eat myself, let alone a pet. The truly infuriating part wasn't the play, but the fact that the dogs were eating better than I was. They were feeding the dogs meat—though I couldn't tell what kind. The prince said that if I barked like a dog, he would give me some meat.
He told me how fragrant the meat was, promising that if I just let out two barks like a puppy, I’d get to eat it. I may be small, but I’m not stupid. Damn it, this was a blatant attempt to make a dog out of me.
I refused point-blank, telling them I wouldn't eat what dogs eat. Seeing that I wouldn't play along, they lost interest and drifted off one by one. I thought that was the end of it, but to my surprise, I was notified a few days later to attend the Empress Dowager’s birthday celebration. I figured a birthday party meant good food, so I waited in anticipation for three days until the day finally arrived.
We were led to the venue early in the morning. By the time we arrived, my legs were weak; it must have been a good two kilometers! It was then I realized how isolated and pathetic our living quarters truly were. My sweet, naive mother was clearly out of favor; as we walked through the crowds, not a single soul greeted us. I didn't care.
I found a spot to sit down when the prince and his friends came over and said they wanted to take me to play. Without waiting for my consent, they dragged me away. When we reached their spot, they were playing with marbles. I told them I didn't have any, so they handed me a bag. To my shock, they were all pearls! I accepted them happily, thinking I’d have some capital once I reached my eventual fiefdom. But reality is harsher than imagination. No sooner had I tucked the pearls away than a shrill voice shrieked that the pearls from the Empress Dowager’s headdress had gone missing.
A large group of people began searching everywhere, and before long, they reached me. They checked my hands, and sure enough, there they were. They immediately moved to convict me.
I tried to speak, but they told me to shut up, calling me a thief who preyed on his elders at such a young age and insisting I be punished. Some shouted that I should be flogged, others said my character was rotten and I should be stripped of my princely status, while others claimed my mother had failed to discipline me and should share the guilt, losing her status as Imperial Noble Consort and being demoted to an Imperial Concubine.
I realized then that this wasn't a birthday celebration at all—it was a textbook Hongmen Banquet.
They were doing everything in their power to get rid of me. As the saying goes, "If you are determined to condemn someone, you can always find a pretext." I hadn't had much attachment to this world anyway; if I died, I died. It didn't matter.
Damn it, I had been given a Golden Finger, but it was a piece of junk. I figured I might as well head back and start over. I was dragged away, dazed, prepared to face death with equanimity.
But my sweet, naive mother threw herself over me, taking twenty lashes of the cane to save me. She took her own share of the beating as well, until she was gasping more air out than she was taking in.
It looked like she wouldn't make it. My heart ached—I realized that in this world, I still had a mother. Once the red dust settles, it is hard to repay such kindness.
I made up my mind to protect this sweet, foolish woman. We were sent to an even more remote area. Looking at my dying mother, I knew that without medicine, she wouldn't last.
I struggled out of the palace. I had heard them talking before about where the Imperial Physicians were, so I went to find them, but when I reached them, not a single one dared to prescribe medicine for me.
With no other choice, I knelt there and begged, but no one paid me any mind. I knew this wouldn't work; I had to get medicine today.
While playing before, I had heard that the 13th Princess’s mother was also an Imperial Concubine who knew medicine. I dragged my exhausted body along, asking questions until I finally found her. She knew what I was there for and looked conflicted.
I knew this was my last chance, so without hesitation, I knelt before her. I said, "Consort Rou, I beg you, save my mother. If you save her life today, I will unconditionally do one thing for you in the future." Seeing she still hesitated, I added, "As long as I live, I will owe you two favors. Whatever you ask, I will agree to." Moved, she nodded helplessly. Checking that no one was watching, she quietly gave me two packets of medicine and told me to leave while the coast was clear. I got the medicine and rushed back home.
I applied the medicine to my mother, and as the days passed, she finally began to move after a week in bed. A month later, she was fully recovered.
I have to say, this sweet, naive woman had nine lives—even with bones exposed, she didn't die. From then on, I didn't dare go out anymore, just hoping to stay safe until I reached adulthood.
But people are often like this: the more you fear something, the more likely it is to happen. One day, the buns they delivered weren't eaten in time and were swarmed by ants. I was in a bad mood and didn't pay much mind to it, but that evening, I discovered the ants were dead.
My face went pale. Our food had been poisoned all along. I couldn't fathom why—even if my mother was out of favor, was it really necessary to kill me?
There was no choice; we couldn't eat the buns. I quietly told my sweet, naive mother that the buns were poisoned and we couldn't eat them anymore. Though she was a bit foolish, she listened to me. From then on, we only ate a little bit of corn and didn't dare touch the buns at all, burying them in the dirt every day. Thankfully, we ate very little, so we didn't starve to death.
Time flew by until I was over three years old. That year, a group of people arrived, brought a pile of clothes, and demanded we change and go out to see someone. I kept wondering who could possibly be coming to visit us, but with no power, no voice, and no information, I had no choice but to follow them.