Xiao Zhi walked out of the household registration hall and took a deep breath.
Yun Yi came to meet him: “How was it?”
“The name can be changed, at least.” Though it wasn’t a hot day, a thin layer of sweat had formed on Xiao Zhi’s forehead. “The household registration book has an additional ‘formerly used name.’”
Formerly used name: Xiao Daoshi.
Yun Yi pressed a tissue to his forehead. “Be content. At least your legal name isn’t Xiao Daoshi.”
Xiao Zhi neither confirmed nor denied.
“You’re sweating. Guilty conscience?” Yun Yi looked past him toward the household registration hall. The registration officer there was also a police officer.
Xiao Zhi: “Why would I have a guilty conscience?”
Joke. He’d been emperor. A mere constable—would he fear that?
Yun Yi’s gaze fixed on one spot. She suddenly poked his waist with her finger.
“Hey, the police are coming. They won’t check your identity, will they?”
Xiao Zhi stiffened and instinctively grabbed her.
Run…
His eye corner caught the girl’s flying skirt, and the corners of his mouth lifted high.
“I can’t run anymore!” Yun Yi’s feet nailed themselves to the sidewalk. “I was kidding.”
“Already guessed.” He wasn’t stupid.
“Then why did you run!”
Seeing Yun Yi couldn’t walk anymore, Xiao Zhi suggested: “Find you a wheelchair?”
What kind of steel-straight-man logic was this.
Yun Yi laughed in anger: “At a time like this, you should say ‘I’ll carry you.’”
Xiao Zhi was skeptical. In broad daylight, back against front, men and women should not touch.
“2026. Have public morals become this open?”
Before his words even settled, not far away a young couple was in a heated argument, on the verge of fighting.
Before the onlookers could gather, the man suddenly hugged the woman. After a token struggle, the two were mouth to mouth.
Xiao Zhi: “!”
Watching his expression change again and again, Yun Yi nearly laughed out loud.
“Carry me.”
“Oh.” The tall man obediently crouched.
Afternoon, spring breeze.
The palm-shaped leaves of the street trees, the Lego-block-like street scene—all dyed gold foil by the rising spring light.
The once high and mighty emperor, facing passersby’s gazes, carried her steadily on his back.
“That’s more like it.” The mutter was mixed with a bit of pride.
Turning right, Xiao Zhi stole a glance. The couple from before had called a truce. The man was holding the woman’s face, whispering sweet nothings.
Truly mushy.
But why were so many passersby—especially the girls—watching with shining eyes?
“What else? Teach me.” He asked shamelessly.
“Let me think.”
A martial artist’s shoulders were broad. The shape of his back muscles was clearly visible. Yun Yi lay on his back, soft as a cloud.
“Don’t move around.” Xiao Zhi hoisted her up a bit.
“I’m not moving around.”
“You’re rubbing against me.” On the back of his neck clung a few strands of her long hair, tingling.
The words were too ambiguous. Yun Yi’s face suddenly reddened.
“I really do need to teach you properly.”
What Yun Yi meant by “teach” and what Xiao Zhi wanted to learn were worlds apart.
The moment they got home, she dragged him straight to the study.
Xiao Zhi sensed trouble.
“Student Xiao, today the teacher will teach you sixth-grade Chinese, math, English, and science.”
“Yun Yi.” He wanted to negotiate—could they rest for a day?
“Insolence.” Yun Yi picked up the teaching pointer and cut a sword flourish before Xiao Zhi. “Call me ‘Teacher Yun,’ or I’ll smack your palm.”
“…”
The greatest suffering Xiao Zhi endured in 2026 was nine-year compulsory education.
“Today we learn quadratic equations.”
Equations? What were those?
“Hey, focus. You don’t want your education level to stay ‘elementary school’ forever, do you?”
“…” Mention the education level printed in the household registration book, and Xiao Zhi’s heart felt stifled.
When Yun Guoqiang came home, Xiao Zhi was sprawled on the backyard swing.
“Didn’t you want barbecue?” Yun Guoqiang had Xiao Liu carry things.
“Slave” Xiao Liu looked over resentfully. Xiao Zhi sat on the swing like a great lord, exactly like a master waiting to be served.
He hated it!
Why was he the one doing all the dirty and heavy work? Couldn’t he turn over and sing as a liberated serf?
“Xiao Zhi.” Xiao Liu, with utmost casualness, ordered him around. “Go to the warehouse and bring the grill over.”
Xiao Zhi sized up Xiao Liu, his gaze scrutinizing: “You want me to carry it?”
Xiao Liu met that gaze and hurriedly looked away: “I’ll carry it, I’ll carry it.”
He wanted to slap himself twice. Why was he always a head shorter around him?
Who was Xiao Zhi! An emperor?
Xiao Liu bustled about, setting up all kinds of skewers on the grill. The aroma spread.
Xiao Zhi missed Wang Delan.
Unfortunately, the historical records had no details about Emperor Wen of Yan’s eunuchs.
The moka pot hissed. Yun Guoqiang poured the coffee and looked up at Xiao Zhi. Seeing him frown as he drank the coffee, every gesture carried an imperial air.
“The higher-ups are still evaluating Yan.” Yun Guoqiang revealed some progress. “This is a matter of great importance. If Yan is officially written into history, all the classics will have to be overturned and redone.”
This matter required extreme caution.
Like when Pluto was demoted from the solar system.
“I understand.” Xiao Zhi sipped the coffee.
His mouth was full of sour, astringent bitterness. How did modern people love drinking this?
“However.” Yun Guoqiang raised his voice. “Our research institute discovered this.”
He handed Xiao Zhi a book.
Xiao Zhi had suffered through learning. After flipping a few pages, he sensed something was off.
Yun Guoqiang said softly: “This book appears to be a Yan dynasty storybook.”
He had photocopied this from the unearthed ancient text, even binding the spine with a hole puncher.
Xiao Zhi opened it.
The story took place at a theater.
A little eunuch bent to pick something up. The wind and clouds suddenly changed. The sky abruptly darkened.
The Emperor discovered the little eunuch was gone and said in panic: “Little Chair is missing!”
That night the palace was brightly lit. They searched palace by palace, hall by hall, but found no trace of him.
The rumor that the Son of Heaven might have a cut-sleeve preference spread. The capital buzzed with discussion…
“What do you think?” Yun Guoqiang studied Xiao Zhi with keen interest.
“Utter nonsense.”
The dual male leads in the storybook were based on Xiao Zhi and Yun Yi. The writing was clumsy, the whole thing fabricated.
“My sister-in-law’s handiwork.” Xiao Zhi crossed his arms, feeling stifled. Afraid Yun Guoqiang wouldn’t understand, he added: “My brother’s wife.”
Yun Guoqiang: “Emperor Wen of Yan’s empress, Lady Yue?”
“Surname Yue, given name Ying.”
A major discovery! Yun Guoqiang was thrilled.
In history, which legitimate empress loved writing storybooks?
Yan’s Empress Yue was the only one!
Yun Guoqiang wanted to say a few more words to him, but Xiao Zhi had buried himself in the storybook.
Never mind.
Being immersed in a novel was better than being a head-down tribe member.
His eye slanted and saw his daughter holding a phone in one hand and a jelly stick in the other.
“I’m leaving?” Yun Guoqiang raised his voice. “I’m going on a business trip to western Sichuan for half a month.”
Neither of them looked up. They only waved him off.
“…”
The world was going downhill.
He couldn’t scold his daughter. His gaze drifted to Xiao Zhi. The other seemed to sense it and looked up.
Xiao Zhi’s eyes were sharp, his edge fully displayed.
Yun Guoqiang was stung by that gaze. To be honest, sometimes he felt quite helpless too.
“Kid, stop putting on imperial airs.”
Xiao Zhi looked innocent: “Uncle, I’m just breathing.”
Yun Guoqiang could only pull rank: “You little brat, are you trying to anger me to death?!”
Yun Yi had just finished editing a video and only then had time to deal with the daily battle between her dear father and Xiao Zhi.
“Dad, your belly can hold a boat—forgive him~” She grinned.
Xiao Zhi glanced at her—smiling like a sycophantic courtier.
“Uncle, take care on the road.” Xiao Zhi respectfully escorted the man to the villa entrance.
Yun Guoqiang was stunned. Uncle? Why not Teacher anymore? So familiar?
Something was off. There had to be a trick.
With a phone, Xiao Zhi learned handwriting input, and the online world opened to him.
Last night he’d scrolled to a post: My boyfriend’s first visit—what should he call my dad?
Idiotic.
Once the poster posted a photo of the boyfriend, the comment section’s style completely changed.
[Your boyfriend looks too mature—older than your dad.]
[The poster replied with a laughing-crying emoji: Right? Right? My boyfriend is 3 years older than my dad.]
At this point, the post had become art.
Xiao Zhi took its essence and discarded its dregs, extracting the key term: in this era, a boyfriend should call his girlfriend’s father “Uncle.”
Though he didn’t yet have official status, he’d board the train first and claim the seat. No one else could board.
The storybook Yue Ying wrote—the earlier chapters were based on Yun Yi and written convincingly, seeming real.
By the middle chapters, the content was comparable to erotic art, simply unfit for viewing.
Xiao Zhi, face dark, flipped straight to the ending.
[The Fifth Prince rebels, leads troops into Wende Hall, forces the Emperor to hand over the imperial seal.]
Xiao Zhi’s heart skipped a beat.
So that was how it was?
Then by leaving his brother in Yan as emperor, hadn’t he harmed him?
Xiao Qian’s ambitions lay elsewhere, yet he sat on the dragon throne in his place, holding court and governing daily…
A furry head suddenly appeared behind him.
Xiao Zhi was about to turn when the head passed over his shoulder, looking at the storybook in his hand.
He raised the book higher to let a certain someone appreciate it.
“Hey, Yue Ying writes pretty well… what character is this?”
Xiao Zhi: “Worry.”
“Oh.”
A sweet fragrance enveloped him. His cheek warmed slightly.
Yun Yi’s gaze landed on “The Fifth Prince rebels.”
“If the Fifth Prince succeeded, why is there no record in the historical records?”
The Yan dynasty history book unearthed by the archaeology institute clearly stated Xiao Qian passed the throne to his nephew.
Her words made sense. Xiao Zhi felt somewhat better.
Yun Yi sucked on her green plum jelly stick. “What’s the next page? What does it say?”
Snap. Xiao Zhi closed the storybook.
The middle absolutely could not be shown to her.
“Why aren’t you letting me read it?” Yun Yi was somewhat taken aback. She thought he flipped faster than a book.
“Not suitable for children.”
“…”
“What’s the ending?”
Xiao Zhi leaned back in the chair, the back of his head against her.
“It’s written, yet not written.”
“Open ending?”
He tilted his head slightly, his cheek brushing her collarbone. “Xiao Li seizes the imperial seal.”
Yun Yi knew—that jade was picked up by Xiao Zhi by the stream as a child. His father privately carved it into an imperial seal, giving him the confidence to raise troops.
Xiao Li copied the same trick. To rebel, he naturally couldn’t lack it either.
“So he took it?” Yun Yi poked his cheek with her finger. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll read it myself. I’m not illiterate—I can read traditional characters.”
She snatched the photocopied storybook and flipped straight to the end.
After one glance, her arrogant momentum extinguished by more than half.
Xiao Zhi glanced at her sideways. “Why aren’t you reading?”
“Uh, I get dizzy from vertical text.”
“…”
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