Chapter 57: The Crown Prince, Ex-Husband of the Transmigrated Woman (5)

Once a child starts crying, it can be hard to stop—especially when they realize how embarrassing it is to cry in front of their father. The more Xie Shen wiped his tears, the faster they flowed.

Xie Hui picked him up and let him sit on his lap, gently wiping his tears with a handkerchief. Unexpectedly, this action seemed to touch a certain soft spot in Xie Shen’s heart, and he simply buried himself in his father’s arms.

His small shoulders trembled as he tried to suppress his sobs, and the muffled cries that occasionally escaped made the Client in the system space incredibly anxious. Unable to hold back, he urged, “Comfort him already!”

Xie Hui’s broad palm landed on his son’s back, patting him patiently. He didn’t follow the Client’s request to soothe him with gentle words. Instead, he silently waited for the child to release all the emotions bottled up inside.

Pent-up grievances, if left unspoken for too long, could take a toll on the body. In this era, it was called “melancholy blocking the heart.”

Once Xie Shen had cried enough, he leaned against his father’s chest, his eyes swollen like walnuts. Just as he raised a hand to rub them, his father caught his wrist in his palm. Looking up curiously, he saw his father holding a handkerchief in the other hand, carefully wiping away his tears.

“If you can’t write well, I’ll just teach you more. What’s there to cry about?”

“No matter how much you cry and try to soften Father’s heart, you still won’t escape your writing practice.”

Xie Hui’s deep, magnetic voice carried a trace of amusement. His gentle touch as he wiped Xie Shen’s tears made the boy sniffle before responding in a small voice, “Your son has disappointed Father’s expectations…”

At barely three years old, Xie Shen’s voice still carried a childish lilt. Now hoarse from crying, he sounded even more pitiful as he murmured an apology into his father’s chest.

Xie Hui wasn’t too concerned, but the Client in the system space was.

“Disappointed what? I haven’t even said anything! Just comfort him already—look at him, he’s crying so hard he’s shaking!”

After Xie Shen finished speaking, he tilted his head up to meet his father’s gaze, murmuring anxiously. He was both afraid of being scolded and worried that he wouldn’t be scolded.

“Your son is fearful. Father once said that the weight of the empire will one day fall upon my shoulders.”

“But… your son cannot even write properly now.”

Xie Hui glanced at the messy scrawls on the desk. It was hard to say anything encouraging about them. Instead, he lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead.

In this era, even holding one’s child upon birth was considered a rare display of affection. A gesture as intimate as this was practically unheard of.

The unexpected action made Xie Shen momentarily forget his worries. He covered the spot on his forehead where his father had kissed him and let out a soft, confused sound.

“Huh?”

“Shen’er, what do you think of Father’s calligraphy?”

Xie Hui carried him to the other side of the study, where a wall displayed the Client’s most prized calligraphy and paintings.

The Client had great skill in both arts, and this was one of his proudest works.

Seeing the lifelike peacock painting, along with the elegantly written inscription, Xie Shen’s eyes first filled with amazement. But then, remembering his own messy handwriting, he drooped his head again.

“Father’s paintings and calligraphy are both very beautiful…”

Xie Hui held the boy with one arm while pointing at the date marked beside the calligraphy and paintings.

“See this? That’s because Father is older than you and has practiced for over ten years. Naturally, my writing looks better than Shen’er’s.”

“When Father first started learning, my writing was even worse than yours. Not only was it worse, but I wasn’t as well-behaved as you either. Back then, your Imperial Grandfather chased me all over the palace with a whip.”

Xie Shen, who rarely heard his father talk about the past, listened intently. When he heard about his Imperial Grandfather wielding a whip, he instinctively shrank his neck.

“There’s no need to rush—you’re only three years old.”

Xie Hui thought carefully and realized that the Client had been forcing this child to advance too quickly, piling all the pressure onto him. Even if he wanted to change this, he needed a reasonable excuse.

Many people assumed that children this young wouldn’t remember much, but based on his own experiences, Xie Hui believed they would retain some odd memories.

He always sought completeness in whatever he did, and this was no exception.

“Father, you once said that at three, your son should understand etiquette. At four, he should attend court with you. At five, he should help ease your burdens…”

The soft, tear-choked voice earnestly reciting these words made the Client in the system space flush with embarrassment.

“Well, that was because…” Xie Hui hesitated before speaking again. “Father was afraid back then—afraid that before Shen’er could grow up, I would fall into an eternal sleep in the imperial tomb.”

After saying this, he worried that he might have frightened the child. He gently ruffled Xie Shen’s hair and continued,

“But now, the imperial physician has examined me and says I can live for many more decades. With Father here, there’s no need for Shen’er to push himself so hard anymore.”

“My Shen’er should be like the other children in the capital—playing freely. Chasing cats, walking dogs, whatever you like. After all, no one has a stronger backer than my Shen’er.”

Xie Shen frowned slightly, nervously clutching his father’s robes. When Xie Hui finished speaking, the boy finally asked in a small voice,

“Father… did the imperial physician truly say that?”

“When has Father ever lied to Shen’er?”

Xie Shen thought carefully, then nodded and gave his father a small smile. But after remembering what his father had just said, he muttered softly,

“Father, your son does not enjoy chasing cats or walking dogs. I will follow my tutors and study diligently.”

“I will… also practice my calligraphy well.”

Xie Hui glanced at the nearly illegible scrawl on the table. Although he felt it was too soon for the boy to be studying so seriously, the enthusiasm for learning was a good sign.

“I’ll have the palace craftsmen make a small desk for Shen’er. Once it’s ready, Father will practice calligraphy with you. How about that?”

“Mm!”

Xie Shen’s eyes were still sore from crying, and after his earlier excitement, he quickly dozed off.

His breathing became slow and even, but he still clung tightly to his father’s arm.

Xie Hui carried him to the adjoining chamber and gently laid him on the bed. After carefully tucking the blanket around him, he returned to the study, considering how to find a new tutor for the child.

Couldn’t think of anyone suitable for the court right now. After all, no matter how outstanding one’s literary talent may be, it doesn’t necessarily correlate with the ability to educate others.

Some scholars have students spread all across the land, yet they themselves may not be particularly skilled in poetry or literary composition. The client had originally chosen the most renowned scholar to be child’s tutor, never considering whether that person could actually teach.

After all, geniuses and ordinary people often think differently. When it comes to educating such a young child, it’s best to choose someone truly skilled in teaching.

At that moment, Xie Hui saw the client urging him in the system space to spend more time with the mission target. Thinking back to his previous attitude toward the child, he couldn’t help but find it amusing.

“You tell me, when would be the best time to depose the crown prince?”

The client, who still wanted to see his son, widened his eyes in shock and stood up abruptly.

“My son is perfectly fine—obedient and well-behaved. Why would you want to depose him?”

Seeing the stark contrast in his reaction, Xie Hui suppressed the urge to smile and continued,

“But when you first approached me, your mission request was to depose the crown prince and help you cultivate a better heir—one capable of shouldering the responsibilities of the state.”

“I… I don’t want to depose the crown prince anymore! Is that not allowed?”

“If he can’t bear the burden of governance, then select a few virtuous ministers to assist him. Given your legendary experiences, surely this much is within your ability?”

Since he was dealing with an emperor, Xie Hui still allowed him some dignity.

“If that is your wish, then of course, it can be done.”

The people in the palace were always swift in their actions, especially when carrying out direct orders from His Majesty. Within days, a small table and chair set, crafted according to the emperor’s specifications, were delivered to his study.

Placed beside a wall adorned with calligraphy and paintings, the table sat where a vase usually stood, a vase that occasionally held fresh flowers. Now, with the vase moved, a small desk had been added—just the right size for Xie Shen to sit at.

From then on, no matter how busy Xie Hui was with court affairs, he never forgot to spend half an hour each day teaching Xie Shen how to write.

He patiently guided the child’s hand, stroke by stroke, correcting mistakes meticulously before having him rewrite them.

In just half a month, Xie Shen’s handwriting had improved significantly. Though it still lacked grace and strength, being able to write with accurate strokes and without crooked lines at the age of under four was already quite impressive in Xie Hui’s eyes.

Before long, New Year’s Eve arrived. According to ancestral tradition, the emperor was supposed to celebrate this night with his consorts.

However, the client usually avoided the harem, let alone on a festive occasion. So, starting from his second year on the throne, he changed the tradition to celebrating with his ministers instead.

On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Xie Hui accompanied Xie Shen in the warm pavilion, preparing a number of river lanterns.

It was said that writing one’s wish on a river lantern on New Year’s Eve would make it come true. Whether or not this was true was debatable, but the act itself brought peace of mind.

As Xie Hui watched Xie Shen carefully making the lanterns with his small hands, he picked up a nearby blank mask and patiently painted patterns on it, intending to make a mask for the little one.

The warm pavilion was well-heated with burning charcoal. Holding a brush, Xie Hui painted the familiar image of the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven—a character modern children would easily recognize—onto the mask.

Once finished, he set it aside to dry before showing it to the child.

Xie Shen was nimble-fingered, quickly crafting over a dozen delicate river lanterns that, in truth, looked even better than Xie Hui’s.

Tradition dictated that wishes should only be written on the lanterns just before releasing them, so despite hesitating for a long time, Xie Shen refrained from writing anything down.

Even as a three-year-old, he was determined to uphold this rule, fearing that the gods above might refuse to grant his wish over such a trivial matter.

During the New Year’s Eve banquet, Xie Shen, as the crown prince, sat to the right of his father, dressed in a bright yellow ceremonial robe.

Imitating his father, Xie Shen kept a solemn expression. On Xie Hui, this demeanor exuded authority and awe; on the little crown prince, it was simply adorable.

With the cold wind blowing, the food cooled quickly, diminishing its taste. Noticing this, Xie Hui ordered his personal attendant to bring a bowl of hot soup and placed it in front of Xie Shen.

Watching him carefully hold the spoon, blowing on it before taking a sip—only to wrinkle his face in reaction to the heat—Xie Hui’s eyes flickered with brief amusement.

Due to the bitter cold and the heavy snowfall, the palace banquet ended early.

Once night had fallen, Xie Hui took Xie Shen’s small hand and led him to a river within the palace that flowed beyond its walls.

Xie Shen carefully cradled the river lanterns while using a brush dipped in ink to write on them.

Standing beside him, Xie Hui could clearly see what he was writing. On each lantern, in slightly crooked handwriting, was the same wish.

“May Father live in peace, year after year.”