Qiao Chu

The palace was brightly lit on an autumn night. As Chu Zhao approached the bedchamber, she could still hear the laughter of palace maids inside.

"Your Majesty draws so well!"

"Is this a cat?"

"No, it's a parrot!"

Chu Zhao stepped into the hall and asked with a smile, "What is A'Yu playing at?"

Xiao Yu, who had been sitting at the desk, immediately stood up and ran toward Chu Zhao. "Sister!"

Chu Zhao reached out to catch him and asked, "Is this homework assigned by your teacher? Court sessions, studying, and banquets—and now you're still drawing so late? Our A'Yu is working too hard!"

She bent down and whispered to the child.

"Should I speak with the Grand Tutor and ask for a day off for you?"

Xiao Yu shook his head. "It's not hard! This isn't homework from the teacher. I wanted to draw this myself." As he spoke, he took Chu Zhao's hand. "Sister, come and see."

Chu Zhao followed him to the desk and looked at the spread-out drawing, where a pattern was sketched with unsteady strokes.

"Is A'Yu just starting to learn how to draw?" Chu Zhao didn't hide her amusement. Instead of praising him, she said with a hint of pride, "When I first started learning, I drew better than you."

The child's face flushed slightly. "I will study hard," he said, then added quietly, "I've seen the drawings you made."

Only then did Chu Zhao notice a collection of writings on the table—the Chu Garden Collection. She couldn't help but laugh. "You're reading this too?"

Seeing her smile, Xiao Yu nodded vigorously. "I asked Qi Gonggong to find it for me. Sister, you're so amazing. You can do everything. I want to be just like you."

Looking into the child's clear eyes, Chu Zhao felt both amused and wistful.

She sat down and drew Xiao Yu close to her. "I'm not good at everything."

She flipped through the collection and noticed that the sections related to her were marked. Clearly, Xiao Yu had only been reading her parts.

Chu Zhao turned to the sections written by others.

"Look, many people are more skilled than I am."

"I'm still studying hard too."

Xiao Yu nodded. "Then I'll study hard like you, sister."

Chu Zhao patted his forehead. "That's right, we both need to work hard!"

Xiao Yu smiled at her, though the expression faded quickly.

The child rarely smiled, and Chu Zhao understood why. After suffering the tragic loss of his parents, even adults struggled to cope—how could a six-year-old child find it easy to smile?

Although the child seemed to have returned to normal without crying or fussing, he still clung to a bamboo tube every night when he slept—a gift originally meant for the Crown Prince, for father and son to play with together.

Fortunately, these days, he no longer woke up startled in the middle of the night.

Chu Zhao held him close and said softly, "A'Yu, remember, you work hard not for others, but for yourself."

Xiao Yu looked at her, only half-understanding.

"For example, if you want to draw, it should be because you want to, not because I can draw or because I like it," Chu Zhao explained.

She gently stroked the child's head.

Such a young child, so dependent on her—it would be easy to turn him into her subordinate.

Such a young child, yet the most noble person, holding the power of the world.

Turning him into her subordinate, making him share her joys and sorrows, would be very advantageous for her.

But—

She had once been someone else's subordinate, living by their whims, seeing only others and never herself.

How could she bear to let this child become like her?

This child had suffered greatly. In this life, like her, he had survived a brush with death. He deserved to live as his own person.

"Our A'Yu can like others, can admire others, but he will always be A'Yu and never become someone else.""Everyone has their own merits, and A Yu has his own as well."

The words his sister spoke were both familiar and strange to him, different from what he had heard before. His mother used to often say how extraordinary Third Uncle was—master of lute, chess, calligraphy, painting, horsemanship, and archery—and urged him to become like Third Uncle.

He had eagerly yearned to become like Third Uncle, hoping to earn his praise and affection.

Of course, now he no longer cared whether Third Uncle was extraordinary, nor did he wish to become like him, much less care whether Third Uncle liked him.

He no longer liked that Third Uncle.

He liked Sister Chu Zhao and wanted to become like her, to be just like her. She would surely be happy and like him even more.

So, it wasn't like that after all.

Xiao Yu nodded. "Sister, I remember."

The child's expression was earnest, but being just a child, his eyes couldn't conceal his unease and anxiety.

He was afraid of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing, afraid that this sister wouldn't like him—Chu Zhao had never interacted with Xiao Yu before and didn't know what kind of child the imperial grandson, raised like a precious jewel deep within the palace, was like.

Such a child must have been coddled by everyone, with no one daring to anger him or make him unhappy. He should have been carefree.

But everything changed overnight.

For a child, the impact was immense.

"A Yu," Chu Zhao said softly, having him sit down, holding his hand, and looking into his eyes. "It's okay if you don't remember, don't understand, or make mistakes. You're still young; you can learn slowly. Don't be afraid. As long as you're not afraid, there is nothing in this world to fear."

Xiao Yu nodded again, this time much more relaxed than before, a faint smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.

Though he only vaguely understood, one thing was clear to him. He leaned over, nestling into Chu Zhao's embrace. His sister treated him exceptionally well, unlike the care from Qi Gonggong and the other eunuchs and palace maids, or the court officials.

It was like a mother's love—yet not quite.

In any case, it was genuine kindness.

Chu Zhao looked at the child nestled before her, thinking of the child she had never met in her previous life, and of the mother who had never known her.

She gently stroked his head.

"A Yu, I was born without a mother," she said.

Xiao Yu looked up at her in surprise. Did Sister also have no mother, just like him?

Chu Zhao gazed at him. "My mother died because she gave birth to me."

A six-year-old child didn't quite understand what this meant.

"Giving birth is very dangerous for mothers. Many mothers die due to accidents," Chu Zhao explained simply. "For both mother and child to be safe and sound is the luckiest thing."

As she spoke, she pinched Xiao Yu's cheek.

"Sister envies you so much, A Yu. You and your mother were a fortunate pair."

Were he and his mother still fortunate? Xiao Yu wanted to grin, but he couldn't. Since the incident, he hadn't even dared to think of his mother—

A warm hand wrapped around him, dispelling the chill, and a soft voice drifted down from above.

"You had your mother with you all these years. I never had even a single day."

"I've never known what it feels like to have a mother."

Sister is so pitiful, Xiao Yu thought. He reached out, embraced Chu Zhao, and gently patted her back—just as his mother used to pat his."Ah Yu, but I believe my mother loved me very much," Chu Zhao allowed the child to comfort her, speaking softly. "Even if our mothers are no longer with us, their love doesn't disappear. They remain forever in our hearts, always accompanying us."

Xiao Yu nodded in her embrace, responding with a firm "Mm," then lifted his head.

"Sister," he said, "do you want to go see your father?"

Chu Zhao was taken aback. "How did you—"

Xiao Yu explained, "Qi Gonggong said you had an argument with Grand Tutor Deng. I was worried, so I came to check and overheard your conversation."

After all, he was the Emperor. No one dared stop him from approaching to listen, nor would anyone violate his orders to alert the three people inside the hall.

Chu Zhao remained silent for a moment. She had originally intended to find an opportunity to tell Xiao Yu gradually, but since he already knew—

"Yes," she nodded, lowering her gaze. "My father is dying, Ah Yu. I'm about to lose my father too."

A small hand rose to gently stroke her cheek, as if to wipe away her tears.

"Sister," Xiao Yu said, "you should go see him quickly. Don't be like me—that night I didn't run over to talk to my father. I ran away angry, and then I never got to see him again."

Chu Zhao hadn't been crying before, but upon hearing these words, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Ah, Ah Yu.