When Chen Wuyi was seven, everyone in the Eastern Palace had a headache.
The third prince, missing half a front tooth, climbed trees to raid birds' nests and snapped osmanthus branches with his bow. He was born with immense strength and a devil-may-care attitude, yet nobody disliked him.
He picked up a book boy off the street, and with two bodyguards at his side, one cold and one warm, his days were chaotic but full of life.
Back then, his biggest worry was missing the wooden target Master Han had hung beneath a tree.
He had no idea that many years later, he would draw a bow to contend for the throne of the realm: first destroying Liang, then Zhou, and finally uniting them all.
But that was a long way off.
Now the osmanthus flowers were blooming again in Jinling City.
And he was only seven.
