Emperor Ling, seeing how firmly he answered, didn’t say anything more to him. Instead, he picked him up and walked outside, taking him to eat vegetarian food.
The little one’s soft, chubby cheeks were very deceptive. Sometimes, Emperor Ling knew he was mischievous, but whenever he looked at that little face, he couldn’t help but feel that his child must be behaving well at that moment.
“Daddy, how long are the masters going to stay here?”
The little one knew that the monks in Guanghua Temple were called “masters.” So, while he called them “bad monks” in his heart, he still referred to them as “masters” out loud.
He wrapped his arms around Emperor Ling’s neck, asking him to talk about the monks who had come to the palace.
“The monks eat vegetarian meals, meditate, recite Buddhist scriptures, and occasionally go down the mountain to preach to the common people,” Emperor Ling explained.
Though Emperor Ling wasn’t particularly drawn to Buddhism, it held a significant place in every dynasty, and he allocated substantial funds to it regularly.
Listening to his father talk about the monks’ lives, the little one furrowed his brow. “The monks can’t eat any meat at all?”
“No, they can’t,” Emperor Ling replied knowingly. “The monks from Guanghua Monastery are strictly vegetarian.”
The little boy, who loved eating meat, couldn’t help but express his sympathy. How could they live without meat?
The boy had grown a bit taller and heavier. As Emperor Ling carried him halfway, the child started to worry he might be too heavy.
“Daddy, just hold my hand while we walk. I’m heavy now,” the little one said obediently, pressing his cheek against Emperor Ling’s.
Though Emperor Ling was indeed feeling a bit tired, he kept up appearances and didn’t put the boy down. “Your Daddy has plenty of strength,” he said. “Even if you were a bit chubbier, I could still carry you.”
After a moment’s thought, he added, “Though maybe it’s better if you don’t get too chubby. You might have trouble losing the weight.”
Emperor Ling recalled his sixth son, Ling Fu, who had been chubby since childhood. Despite Consort Ru’s efforts to make him lose weight, they hadn’t had much success.
Weighing the boy in his arms, Emperor Ling felt his current size was just right.
“Daddy, being chubby is cute!” the little one protested, even though he hadn’t grown as round as his sixth brother. In his eyes, his brother was very adorable.
“You don’t need to be chubby to be cute,” Emperor Ling retorted, glancing at the child.
As the two argued about chubbiness and cuteness, they unknowingly arrived at the monks’ living quarters.
Although these monks were considered esteemed masters, they were still men, and thus couldn’t be housed just anywhere in the palace. They were kept separated from the harem.
This separation, however, meant a longer walk for Emperor Ling.
Upon arriving, Emperor Ling gave the boy a playful pat on his backside, chiding, “This is all your fault. You kept distracting me with this and that, and I forgot we could have taken a carriage.”
Little one: “…”
The little boy remained silent, having felt no fatigue sitting in his father’s arms. Seeing his father a bit tired, he sweetly wiped away the non-existent sweat from his father’s brow.
“Alright, enough of that,” Emperor Ling said, finally setting the child down.
He took the boy by the hand and greeted the monks one by one.
Among them, the one who seemed to hold the most authority was Master Shikong. He was of medium build, with ordinary features, but carried an air of serenity. Lowering his gaze, he took a careful look at the little prince whom Emperor Ling was leading.
“This is my seventh son,” Emperor Ling said warmly, holding the boy’s hand. “I’ve heard that Master Shikong is skilled at reading faces. Would you be willing to read my little seven’s fortune?”
With such a direct request, Master Shikong could hardly refuse. He bent down to study the young prince more closely.
After a long examination, he hesitated slightly.
Seeing the hesitation, the smile on Emperor Ling’s face faded. “Is my Little Seven’s fortune not good?”
The smile he had worn before was now clearly just a mask. Anyone with eyes could see how insincere it had become.
Master Shikong lowered his head and murmured, “Amitabha.”
After this, he offered a vague reply. “The Seventh Prince is deeply loved by Your Majesty. With such a blessed life, he will find success and happiness under your protection.”
It was a diplomatic answer, one that dodged the real issue.
Emperor Ling’s mood darkened slightly. If the boy’s fortune had been truly good, there would be no need for such ambiguous words.
“Daddy, Little Seven doesn’t need his fortune told!” the boy said, having been listening attentively the whole time.
Though he couldn’t fully understand Master Shikong’s words, he could sense the tension in the air. Judging by his father’s mood, it was clear the monk hadn’t said anything good about him.
Not happy with the fortune, the boy clung to his father’s leg, trying to steer the conversation away from it.
Looking up, he declared, “Little Seven has Daddy. He doesn’t need a fortune!”
He wasn’t interested in having his fortune told. Instead, he pulled at Emperor Ling’s leg, eager to explore the area.
This was his first time visiting this part of the palace.
With the boy tugging at him, Emperor Ling’s attention shifted away from Master Shikong. He didn’t press the monk any further about his son’s fortune.
The quarters where the monks were housed were far from being hastily arranged. After glancing around, the boy exclaimed, “This place is really nice, Daddy! The monks must be very happy staying here.”
Hearing this, Emperor Ling glanced back at Master Shikong but remained silent.
He also believed the accommodations were quite good. Yet, there were officials in court who wanted to give the monks even more luxurious quarters.
After wandering for a while, the little boy rubbed his stomach and pouted, “Daddy, my tummy is growling.”
Emperor Ling squatted down, ruffled the boy’s hair, and teased, “I thought you weren’t hungry. You insisted on eating vegetarian food, but you’ve spent all this time wandering around.”
Just as he said this, his lips tightened. He realized he had let a small mistake slip out in front of the monks.
For a brief moment, his expression shifted, but he quickly regained his composure.
“We’ve been wandering for so long, I’m hungry too. Let’s go and join Master Shikong for a meal of vegetarian food,” Emperor Ling said, picking up the tired little one again and turning to address Master Shikong.
Master Shikong stood nearby, his expression unchanged.
“Your Majesty, the Seventh Prince is still young. He might not be used to vegetarian food.”
“I want to eat it!” the little one insisted. “I can eat a whole bowl of rice!”
Since both the Emperor and the young prince were determined to have a vegetarian meal, Master Shikong, after expressing his concern, led them to the dining area.
Among the monks accompanying them, though all were referred to as masters, it was clear that none had the calm composure of Master Shikong.
As Emperor Ling dined with them, the monks maintained a calm facade, though their glances occasionally strayed toward the emperor.
Emperor Ling might not have been the most exemplary ruler, but he was born of royal blood, and his demeanor carried an undeniable imperial presence.
This dignified emperor, while eating, personally served food to the little prince at his side.
For the emperor to serve food like this was a great honor.
However, the young prince seemed unaware of this, his dining manners impeccable, making him quite a pleasant sight to behold.
“Look, Daddy, I finished all my food,” the little one proudly showed his empty bowl to his father.
The little prince had been well-taught in courtly etiquette, and in the presence of others, he always maintained his composure.
Having finished his meal, the little one now eagerly sought his father’s approval.
Emperor Ling wasn’t particularly fond of the vegetarian dishes, but seeing how his son wasn’t picky, he managed to eat a bit more.
“Well done.”
The emperor glanced at the little one’s empty bowl, visibly pleased.
After their meal, it was time to leave, but the little prince still wanted to play for a while.
“Father, I want to play a little longer,” he said, urging his father to stay seated as he wandered around exploring.
“Master, can I come back here to play again?” he asked Master Shikong after listening to a brief recitation of the scriptures.
This place had been arranged by Emperor Ling, and as the young prince was the emperor’s son, no one could really deny him access.
Master Shikong chanted “Amitabha” and replied, “As you wish, Your Highness.”
The little prince grinned and chatted with the master for a while longer.
From where Emperor Ling sat, he could see his son, facing him, engaging happily with Master Shikong, a bright smile lighting up his pretty face.
After some time, the little one returned to his father, asking to be carried back.
This time, they took a palanquin on their way back.
Inside the palanquin, Emperor Ling asked, “What were you talking about with Master Shikong? You seemed so happy.”
“I asked Master Shikong how to light a lamp for you,” the little one replied, his eyes gleaming. “Father, I want to light an eternal lamp for you!”
The eternal lamp was a symbol of blessing, and lighting one for the emperor meant wishing for his health and longevity. The lamp also symbolized a prayer for an extended life.
“I even asked the price. It’s a bit expensive, but once I save more money, I’ll light one for you!”
Emperor Ling was speechless for a moment.
He pinched his filial son’s cheek and, somewhat amused, asked, “Little Seven, you want to light a lamp for me, and they’re still going to charge you?”
“Of course!” the little one blinked innocently. “I’ve known that for a long time. Lots of people want to light those lamps, so you need a lot of money to get one!”
Hearing this, Emperor Ling’s expression darkened slightly.
The Qi Dynasty heavily revered its Buddhist temples, and the temples were even exempt from taxes.
Emperor Ling hadn’t paid much attention to their revenue before, but now he did a quick mental calculation—
And arrived at a rather large figure.
Despite their already considerable income, the Guanghua Temple still intended to charge his son to light a lamp for him.
With a stoic expression, the emperor reflected that perhaps he had been too generous in funding the temples, especially considering the empress’s frequent offerings of incense during her prayers.
It seemed the temple had grown accustomed to receiving money from the palace, to the point that it now expected it as a matter of course.
The little prince, oblivious to his father’s growing displeasure with Master Shikong, continued speaking in his favor while sitting on his father’s lap.
What he didn’t mention was that when he had asked about the lamp, he hadn’t said it was for his father.
He’d only asked whether one would need to pay for lighting a lamp for someone they cared about.
And Master Shikong hadn’t explicitly said no!
The more compliments the little one lavished on Master Shikong, the more evident Emperor Ling’s displeasure became.
Eventually, the emperor interrupted his son’s praise. “Stop talking about them. They’ll be leaving soon anyway. By the way, the family banquet is coming up—what performance do you want to see this time?”
The emperor smoothly changed the subject, and as expected, the little prince’s attention shifted.
Seeing that his son was no longer talking about the masters, Emperor Ling kissed his son’s cheek.
The palanquin stopped in front of Chengming Palace.
“Father, I’ll be right back. Wait for me!” the little prince said before heading off toward Fenghua Palace.
But on the way, he took a detour to Shui Shui’s little room.
Shui Shui hadn’t gone to sleep yet and was waiting for him.
The little prince walked in proudly and said, “It’s all sorted! Father will soon dislike those bad monks.”
Whether his father would dislike him was yet to be seen, but he was certain that Emperor Ling would soon start disliking those bald monks.
Shui Shui was a bit puzzled by his words.
Standing on a chair, the little prince recounted the events of the day.
“The bad monk wanted to say something bad about me! But I knew it.”
“I played along with him and praised him, and Daddy got jealous!”
Daddy got jealous, so he definitely doesn’t like those monks very much.
When the monks talk badly about me again, Daddy will think about how I praised them before. When he compares the two, he’ll see that those bad monks have no conscience!
Shui Shui quietly listened to him finish and then handed him a cup of tea.
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Obrigada pela tradução!🥰💕