Chapter 9: The Playboys and "Li Yikuan"

“Am I really your biological son? Am I really your own child?!” Supported by Li Tai as he was led back to the Ganlu Hall, Li Kuan shouted loudly all the way, though only the two brothers knew how many cries of anguish were mixed within his words.

The title of “King Qin Shi” was clearly out of reach. Li Kuan sadly collapsed back onto the bed, waiting for his younger brother Li Tai to reapply the medicine. “Brother,” he said bitterly, “this time I’ve truly seen our father’s true colors. I swear, with those last few strikes, he wasn’t beating his son—he was striking Wang Shichong, beating Liu Heita!”

Li Tai’s voice was filled with grief and righteous indignation, a bitter accusation against their elder brother.

“Second brother…” Li Tai had finally given up on his foolish elder sibling. “No matter what, you can’t play those Qin King’s pillar tricks with our father, especially when that pillar was our uncle…”

If Li Kuan hadn’t accidentally slapped Changsun Wuji’s neck during their pursuit, his injuries wouldn’t have been so grievous.

Sighing, Li Tai shook his head helplessly. His troublesome elder brother was forcing this young boy to mature at an astonishing pace.

“I swear, once I grow strong… Awooo!” Li Kuan, still uncertain what kind of king he was to be, stopped his fierce words midway and let out a pitiful howl. When he looked over at Li Tai with a mournful gaze, he found his brother’s face full of helplessness. “Second brother, the imperial physician said you have to rub hard to bring out the medicine’s power…”

“It’s nothing…” Li Kuan forced a smile. “I can endure it…”

“Ahhhhhh!”

…

The next morning, at dawn.

Limping uncertainly, Li Kuan, unsure of what king he was supposed to be, entered the Shangwen Academy—the school established by Emperor Taizong to educate the princes and sons of ministers—supported by his brother Li Tai. Instantly, a roar of laughter erupted within the hall.

Two cousins of Li Kuan, Chai Zhewei and Chai Lingwu, who had always been on good terms with him, had long caught wind of how Li Kuan had come by his injuries.

But at a time like this, true friends wouldn’t let the opportunity slip.

The elder brother, Chai Zhewei, put on a face of surprise and, smiling with the others, said, “Cousin, what’s going on here? Did His Majesty strike you again?”

Li Kuan, embarrassed to have his shortcomings revealed, said nothing and quietly went to stand in his seat.

Cheng Chumo, son of Cheng Yaojin and one of Li Kuan’s sworn friends, also well acquainted with the pain of punishment, immediately pointed at Li Kuan and shouted, “Brother Kuan definitely got beaten! When my father hit me, I was afraid to sit for days!”

“Nonsense!” Li Kuan blushed red amid the renewed laughter. “How can you slander my innocence out of thin air?”

“Innocence?!” Another cousin, Changsun Chong, shouted from the side. “My father told me everything yesterday. You, good-for-nothing, first wanted His Majesty to make you King Qin. When he refused, you insisted on being King Qin Shi! Then with the help of General Hou Junji, you were caught by the enraged emperor. I heard the emperor’s shoes were swinging so fast they were smoking…”

“Hahaha…” As Changsun Chong painted a vivid picture, everyone now knew exactly what Li Kuan had endured the previous day, and their laughter grew even louder and more unrestrained.

“Stop laughing! You’re not allowed to laugh!” Li Kuan shouted anxiously, trying to regain control, but who would listen to him now?

Amid the raucous laughter, the second prince’s voice could still be heard muttering, as if defending himself: “How come King Qin Shi isn’t considered a king? How is it usurpation…? Being granted a kingdom… can that be usurpation?” Then came words no one understood—something about a man’s lofty ambition, nine sacred cauldrons, and some obscure phrase—causing more laughter to burst forth. For a time, the hall was filled with a joyful atmosphere.

“Second brother…” Li Tai, blushing from laughter but bound by brotherly love, tried to hold back his mirth. “I’ll head out first. I’ll come get you after classes.”

Since Li Tai was not yet old enough to enroll, he did not enter the academy with Li Kuan. Instead, Changsun had specially invited a great scholar to instruct him.

“Go ahead,” said Li Kuan, his dignity utterly lost but without a hint of offense. Before parting, he reminded his brother, “Tell Mother when you get back that I want roasted venison for lunch. The Imperial Kitchen should prepare it carefully—the meat must be tender to taste good.”

“Oh…” Li Tai nodded, then looked at Li Kuan with some concern. “Second brother, I’ll head back to Ganlu Hall now.”

“Hm,” Li Kuan nodded. Then, standing at his seat, he opened his textbook. Seeing Li Kuan preparing to focus on the lesson, the crowd exchanged knowing smiles and fell silent. When the great scholar Huang Qi entered, the class proceeded as usual. Huang Qi lectured diligently from the podium, while the young nobles below rarely paid attention, most dozing off soundly.

Of course, except for a few shameless ones who took out meat to eat, the overall atmosphere of study was quite good.

What baffled Huang Qi today was that the usual loudest snorer among the nobles was unusually attentive. But when he saw the young man standing upright, he knew: this was someone recently punished by His Majesty again.

Well, it had become routine.

When classes ended, Changsun Chong, the Chai brothers, Cheng Chumo, and others like Li Huairen of the Li Xiaogong family, Li Siwen of the Li Ji family, Yuchi Baolin of the Yuchi family, Niu Yong of the Niu Jinda family, Qin Huaiyu of the Qin Qiong family, and many other young nobles friendly with Li Kuan gathered around him.

“What’s this?” Li Kuan, finishing packing his books and placing them on the desk’s corner, put his hands on his hips and looked at the swarming group of friends. He pointed a finger at each one in turn, complaining, “Damn it, you’re all really something. Your lord gets beaten, and you’re this happy about it?”

“Listen, cousin,” Chai Zhewei slapped Li Kuan’s shoulder hard. “Can you tone it down a bit? You keep making His Majesty angry every day, and it’s always something new. Aren’t you just asking for trouble?”

“You don’t understand.” Li Kuan shook his head lightly, brushing off his cousin’s intrusive hand with a flick, and declared solemnly, “Someone like me is destined to live free and unruly. I’m still young now, so I must be mischievous and push my father’s patience limit. Otherwise, if I really cause a big mess, what if this foolish emperor just cuts me off in one stroke?”

“Pfft…” Among the stunned group, Yuchi Baolin—who had a rather unique way of thinking—couldn’t help but laugh. Pointing at Li Kuan, he chuckled, “Haha… he called His Majesty foolish…”

“My dear brother Yuchi!” Quick as a flash, Cheng Chumo jumped forward to cover Yuchi Baolin’s mouth. He glared at him with confusion and roared, “That’s Brother Kuan, the big foolish second-generation heir, talking. Do you think you can say that?!”

“You’re calling who a big fool?! Wait, who’s a second-generation heir?! Our lord is clearly a third-generation heir! No, that’s not right! Our lord comes from a family of hereditary nobles. Who the hell do you think you’re disrespecting…”

Feeling deeply insulted, Li Kuan became displeased in an instant. At this moment, he resembled an enraged lion…

Well, to be precise, and according to the witnesses present, the enraged limping lion stiffened his neck and charged straight at the unfortunate Cheng Chumo…

Soon, the Shangwen Academy, filled with the scent of ink and occasionally the aroma of roasted meat, erupted into chaos once more…