My name is Zhao Qinghe, I am three years old this year.
My mother passed away early, and the whole Xianyang Palace said that the king favored me because he was pitiful that I had no mother.
They don't know that I am actually doting on my dad.
When I was three years old, there was a man named Wang Cong in the court, who silenced my father for a long time.
I spent three years pretending to be good, acting coquettishly, and memorizing the names of every captain in the frontier army.
Then late one night, I grabbed his sleeves and told him in a sweet voice - how to hold this person down so hard that life would be worse than death.
He looked at me for a long time. Then he lowered his head, pressed his forehead against mine, and said in a hoarse voice:
"Qinghe, the widow's son."
I knew that from that moment on, I was his only son.
——
Later, younger brothers were born; one was good at martial arts, one was good at literature, and the other was good at coquettishness.
It doesn't matter, they will all be turned into trash by me.
For my father's life, I am enough.
