The next morning, Jing Kuang was about to drag Jing Cong out.
Who would have thought Jing Cong was like a loach; the moment Jing Kuang loosened his attention, he slipped out of his grasp and ran straight toward his own mother consort’s main palace.
Jing Kuang hurried after him, and the two of them ended up tugging at each other right at the entrance of the main hall.
“Where are you going?” Empress Hui had not been summoned by the emperor yesterday, and only just awoke after the two children had already gone out. Hearing Jing Kuang and Jing Cong arguing outside, she lazily poked her head out from behind the bed curtains and asked in displeasure.
“Replying to Mother Consort, Cong’er is fully recovered. Yesterday he was already able to run and jump,” Jing Kuang said calmly. “Your son is taking him to the Imperial Prince’s Residence.”
Jing Cong immediately tried to argue, but Empress Hui was focused on getting more sleep and did not care at all. She waved them off and told them to leave quickly, then lay back down.
Jing Kuang then grabbed him and dragged him away like he was escorting a prisoner.
“I’m not going to Second Imperial Brother’s place!” Jing Cong said again as soon as they left the palace gate. A few days ago, when he was enjoying his carefree days, he had even thought that if he never had to go to the Imperial Prince’s Residence again, he would rather go to his second imperial brother to get beaten once more. But now that the moment had truly arrived, he backed down in fear.
They were making me go apologize to the second prince and also making me go back to the Imperial Prince’s Residence—how could there be such a thing in the world!
“You damaged someone else’s things and caused him to be punished. I haven’t even lectured you yet,” Jing Kuang frowned. “How can you be so unreasonable?”
“He hit me too!” Jing Cong said. “Besides, if he hadn’t insisted on arguing with Father Emperor, would Father Emperor have gotten so angry as to hit him? That’s not my fault!”
“Distorting the truth!” Jing Kuang rebuked. “Two days ago I even had the maids in my courtyard make another kite. You will take it and compensate your second imperial brother.”
“Is he your real younger brother, or am I your real younger brother?” Jing Cong snorted.
“Whether it is him or you, both are Father Emperor’s children,” Jing Kuang said seriously. “Separating closeness like this is wrong.”
“You’re the one who’s wrong!” Jing Cong said. “Mother Consort said that even though all are Father Emperor’s children, only brothers born of the same mother are the closest!”
“Is what Mother Consort said right, or what Confucius said right?” Jing Kuang frowned.
Hearing this, Jing Cong muttered, “How would I know whether Confucius is right? I don’t even know what the teacher in the Imperial Prince’s Residence has said. Who even knows who Confucius is…”
While they argued like this, Zhongli Palace was already in sight.
Jing Cong stopped again.
Jing Kuang took the kite from a palace maid behind him and handed it to Jing Cong. “Take it.”
Jing Cong refused to take it. “What if he hits me again after I go?”
Jing Kuang shoved the kite into his hands and said coldly, “I refuse to believe he would be as unreasonable as you.” Then he pressed his shoulder and pushed him forward. “Go.”
Thus, that day, Jing Mu stood on the steps and, before waiting for Shu Changyu, instead saw Jing Kuang pushing along a little fat ball.
The person he was waiting for did not come; instead, irrelevant people came to annoy him. He glanced at them and said nothing.
Jing Kuang stood below the steps, bowed in Jing Mu’s direction from afar, then pushed Jing Cong forward to make him go up on his own.
Jing Mu did not even look at him. In his past and present lives, Jing Kuang had always been the type of person he looked down on the most. In his previous life, during the struggle for succession with the eldest and fifth princes, Jing Kuang had voluntarily requested a remote border fiefdom and exiled himself in sorrow.
Although after everything settled, he, this puppet emperor, had not been much better off. But he had willingly sunk into the shadow of the one he loved, whereas Jing Kuang, with his mouth full of righteousness, loyalty, and filial piety, was like an old-fashioned pedant crawling out of a pile of dusty books.
People like this were the ones Jing Mu looked down upon the most.
He lowered his eyes and saw the little fat boy trembling with lingering fear, stepping up the stairs one step at a time, tightly clutching the kite whose wings were already crumpled.
He looked at him like a dog he had once beaten, watching him cautiously shuffle toward him.
“Second Imperial Brother…” Jing Cong, who had always been arrogant and domineering, now shrank his fat shoulders like a drenched quail, head lowered. “My brother asked me to come apologize to you.”
“Your brother asked you to come?” Jing Mu raised an eyebrow.
The fat quail seemed to be struck by lightning, his whole body jolting in fear. “No, no! I came myself! I want to apologize to you!” he quickly said, holding the kite up with both hands. “This is my compensation for you!”
Jing Mu looked down at the crumpled kite, then gave a soft laugh.
A kite? Did he only lack a kite?
He could not be bothered to argue with the little fat boy, and casually took the kite from him. “I forgive you. Go back.”
Jing Cong did not expect it to be resolved so easily.
He froze for a moment, and seeing Jing Mu turn away, his courage—always weak when confronted but bold when unchallenged—suddenly swelled again.
He stepped forward and grabbed Jing Mu’s robe.
Jing Mu turned and looked down at him. The little boy raised his chubby face, showing uneven baby teeth. “Second Imperial Brother… since you’re not angry anymore, can you teach me how to fight?”
“Hmm?” Jing Mu raised a brow.
“No! I mean martial arts!” he said, even miming two clumsy fighting stances with his chubby fists. “Hah! Ha!”
Jing Mu found it amusing and the sharp, cold lines of his face softened slightly.
Jing Cong thought there was hope.
“I don’t know how,” Jing Mu said. “I won’t teach you. Go back.”
At that moment, a voice as clear and cool as spring water echoed in the courtyard: “Fourth Highness?”
Jing Mu instinctively changed his expression, becoming gentle and obedient, and looked toward the direction of the voice.
Seeing Jing Mu’s reaction, Jing Cong followed his gaze to see who could make him react like this.
He had expected a nine-chi-tall warrior who could knock Jing Mu down with one punch, but instead it was only a slender scholar, carrying a bookcase, looking weak and delicate.
Jing Mu was afraid of him?
The little fat boy suddenly felt he had found an ally. Everyone was afraid of teachers—then they were comrades! He elbowed Jing Mu and asked, “You’re afraid of your teacher too?”
Unexpectedly, Jing Mu ignored him completely, pushed him aside, and went down the steps to greet the man.
Jing Cong was stunned. So Jing Mu’s teacher was actually so hidden and dangerous! Definitely a demon more terrifying than Jing Mu himself!
At the foot of the steps, Shu Changyu was surprised to see Jing Kuang there, and after a brief exchange, learned he had brought his younger brother to apologize to Jing Mu.
Shu Changyu sighed inwardly. Empress Hui was domineering and calculating, yet she had somehow raised such a righteous eldest son. Jing Kuang in his previous life had been an upright man like a pine tree. Because the emperor died amid struggles for the throne, he had simply abandoned everything and left. Later, after serving as a prince for only a couple of years, he even gave that up and went south alone to study.
Truly an extraordinary person.
Unlike his younger brother, who was like a foolish emperor of ancient times. Though the little fat boy grew into a handsome and elegant man when he grew up, deep inside he remained as foolish as ever.
In the struggle for succession in his past life, he had not participated at all. After Jing Mu ascended the throne, Shu Changyu gave him a wealthy idle princely title, and he happily accepted it, spending his days raising pigeons and tending flowers in his courtyard—truly a man blessed by fortune.
Compared side by side, Jing Kuang seemed like jade while the other was like dirt, making Jing Kuang appear even more upright and noble.
Jing Kuang greeted Shu Changyu happily and spoke to him: “Are you the Third Shu of the Shu family who recently passed the imperial examination? I read your essay on governance from the spring examination and found it refreshing. I would like to learn from you.”
Shu Changyu had long forgotten what he wrote in the imperial examination over a decade ago. He smiled and deflected it modestly.
Jing Kuang, however, was serious: “Does Your Excellency have time after today’s class? Today the Ministry of Works is on rest duty; do you have other arrangements?”
Shu Changyu looked at his earnest, pedantic manner and found it rather endearing. Unfortunately, although he wished to accept the invitation, he truly had no time. He smiled helplessly and shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I previously accepted an invitation to attend the Zhou Third Young Master’s Qujiang banquet this afternoon.”
Jing Kuang sighed. “I have often heard that the Zhou Third Young Master enjoys making friends with talented scholars and frequently hosts banquets after the exams for all outstanding candidates. It is truly a pity that I have never had the chance to experience it…”
“Apologies have already been made,” Jing Mu said coldly as he approached. “Why are you still not taking your brother back?”
“Jing Mu,” Shu Changyu frowned disapprovingly. “How rude.”
Only after speaking did Shu Changyu realize it was inappropriate. Though he was Jing Mu’s imperial tutor, he was merely a low-ranking official; speaking to a prince like that was improper.
Old habits from his past life kept surfacing whenever he was around Jing Mu.
But Jing Mu, surprisingly, did not get angry. Instead, he lowered his head slightly, his hands fidgeting unhappily.
Behind him, Jing Cong was shocked.
Good heavens—Jing Mu, who even before the emperor could remain unyielding and composed, was actually being made obedient by Shu Changyu!
This seemingly weak scholar must hurt people extremely badly when he hits them—far worse than the palace guards wielding punishment sticks, Jing Cong thought.