HomeThe Rise of NingExtra Chapter 1: The Prime Minister's Guide to Raising Children

Extra Chapter 1: The Prime Minister’s Guide to Raising Children

Luo Han, thirteen years old by Chinese reckoning, was the eldest legitimate son of Luo Shenyuan, the current Prime Minister.

As the eldest son, Luo Han faced strict family rules and exceptionally high expectations. At three, he was separated from his mother and moved to a side courtyard with his wet nurse. By six, he was relocated to the outer courtyard, isolated from the inner chambers.

Luo Han remembered being close to his mother when he was very young, clinging to her soft embrace. After moving to the outer courtyard, his father hired a tutor. His daily routine began before dawn and ended late at night, with only a brief midday visit to pay respects to his mother and grandmother. This schedule gradually distanced him from his mother.

His wet nurse, Qiu Niang, was illiterate. Noticing Luo Han’s difficulty waking up early, she bought a rooster from the market to keep in the courtyard. When his father discovered the strutting cock during a visit, he frowned. “Who’s raising chickens in the young master’s courtyard?”

Qiu Niang, confused, replied, “My lord, I got it to wake the young master…”

Luo Han saw his father’s exasperation. “We have water clocks for timekeeping.”

“Oh, we can’t keep chickens?” Qiu Niang asked.

“No,” his father stated.

Qiu Niang moved the rooster to the back courtyard, but it often wandered to the front. Surprisingly, his father didn’t comment further when he saw it.

Luo Han grew fond of the rooster, as he had no other playmates due to his status as the eldest grandson. Sometimes, he’d sneak to the back courtyard, hold the rooster, stroke its feathers, and murmur, “Chicken, big rooster.”

The tame rooster no longer pecked at him, instead lazily tucking its head and fluffing its feathers into a ball.

Luo Han’s rooster died when he was eight. That day, his father wanted to hear him recite from the Book of Songs. In his father’s study, Luo Han recited through tears. His father, noticing the child’s sobs, asked, “What’s wrong?”

Luo Han, feeling unmanly to cry over a chicken, shook his head without explanation. This only made his father frown more. “Why this hesitation? If something’s bothering you, speak up.”

Trying to hold back his tears only made Luo Han cry harder.

His father turned to an attendant, saying, “Bring him a plate of preserved plum candy.”

When Luo Han was younger, Yining would reward him with a piece of preserved plum candy for each poem he memorized. His father had confiscated all the candy upon discovering this practice. Since then, whenever Luo Han cried, his father would use the candy to console him.

His father then waved his hand, saying, “Take him to his mother.”

The steward led Luo Han to Luo Yining, who was making boots for his father. His younger brother was visiting their maternal grandfather. Seeing Luo Han cry, Yining quickly embraced him, cooing, “Darling, why are you crying?”

Luo Han rarely heard anyone call him “darling” anymore. Since moving to the outer courtyard, his father seldom allowed him to see his mother. He hugged her waist and sobbed, “Mother, I’m so tired of studying.”

“Then let’s take a break from studying today,” Luo Yining said, her heart aching at her child’s distress.

She prepared food for him and played with him. When the child had exhausted himself and was no longer upset, but still clung to his mother, Yining let him sleep beside her. Even in his sleep, Luo Han clutched his mother’s clothes, nestling close to her.

Sleeping next to his mother made him forget all his troubles. It felt like the warmest place in the world, where someone shielded him from everything outside.

When Luo Shenyuan returned from court, he found his son occupying his usual place.

Luo Yining went to help him remove his official belt, observing the Prime Minister. “You’re home early today,” she remarked.

Since the Crown Prince’s ascension, Luo Shenyuan held sole power but was constantly busy.

“Why is that boy still sleeping here?” Luo Shenyuan’s brow furrowed slightly.

“I wanted to discuss this with you,” Luo Yining said, gesturing for him to sit as she poured tea. “Our son is only eight. Aren’t you being too strict with him? You weren’t under such pressure at his age. Couldn’t you ease up a bit? Children need to express their natural temperament.”

“He’s different from me,” Luo Shenyuan shook his head as he sipped his tea. “He’s my eldest legitimate son. Everyone’s watching him. If I don’t push him hard enough, he’ll eventually fail.”

After all, there was only one Luo Shenyuan.

Luo Yining noticed the deepening wrinkles on his forehead, evidence of his increasing worries. She reached out to smooth them. Luo Shenyuan caught her hand, asking softly, “What is it?”

If not for her rebirth, how could she have met him and become the one by his side? Over the years, as his power and influence grew, so did her concerns.

Luo Yining smiled, “You always think too much, consider too many things. It’s exhausting.”

After a moment of silence, he surprisingly smiled and said, “Yining, when something crosses my mind, I’ve already considered every aspect of it. Even if I don’t want to think about it, I can’t help it.”

Luo Yining looked at him and said, “Lie down.”

Unsure of her intentions, Luo Shenyuan complied. She then instructed, “Close your eyes.”

She placed her cool hands on his temples, gently massaging them. “I learned this from Nurse Xu. It helps relax the meridians. You’ve been having headaches lately. You need to relax. People say, ‘Deep emotions shorten life, and extreme wisdom harms the body.’ How can someone as clever as you be alright?” Her voice lowered as she spoke, her cool breath brushing his ear. “It would be better if you weren’t so smart.”

Deep emotions and extreme wisdom – he embodied both.

Realizing this, Luo Yining fell silent. She gazed at the man lying on her lap. When her father had caused trouble with the salt monopoly at the border, if not for his protection and maneuvering, the Ying Guogong family might have faced disaster. During Shier’s birth, if he hadn’t been by her side, the midwife might have mishandled things.

Then there were court affairs, countless state matters, and the common people.

And her, the children, and the Luo family.

Such a heavy burden. She wondered how she would handle it in his position. No one could help him there; every step risked a misstep, hence his cautious deliberation and thorough planning.

All she could do was provide a place for him to relax when he came home, where he could sleep without worry.

And now, wasn’t he lying in her arms, completely at ease?

In this life, he cared more about the common people than in her previous life, perhaps due to the influence of Xu Wei and Yang Ling. He pondered and deliberated on new policies. Of course, there were missteps – the future was unknowable, after all.

Sometimes, watching him write in his study, she felt a sense of admiration.

Seeing that he had fallen asleep, Luo Yining leaned down and kissed his furrowed brow. With both father and son now sleeping in her room, she decided to read a book.

Soon, Luo Han woke up, rubbing his eyes as he climbed down from the bed. Seeing his father sleeping on his mother’s lap, he felt a twinge of jealousy.

His father always monopolized his mother’s attention. On a rare day, he was allowed to return to her, his father was the one sleeping in her lap while he slept alone on the bed.

But Luo Han dared not cry or make a fuss. When he had done so as a child, his father punished him with extra writing and archery practice, unmoved by his tears. This effectively cured Luo Han of his clingy behavior. Now eight years old, Luo Han restrained himself, standing beside Luo Yining and tugging gently at her sleeve. “Mother, I want to eat cake,” he said softly, adding, “The cake you make.”

Young Luo Han referred to all flour and rice-based foods as “cake.”

At eight, Luo Han had mastered an important skill called misdirection, which would prove very useful in his future life and studies.

Today, Luo Yining was unconditionally indulgent. If her son wanted cake, she would make it! She patted the child’s head, carefully moved Luo Shenyuan aside, and went to the kitchen to prepare the dough.

After Luo Yining left, Luo Shenyuan opened his eyes.

Luo Han whispered, “Father, you were pretending to sleep…”

Enjoying his wife’s tenderness was worth a little pretense. Luo Shenyuan saw no issue with this and smiled, patting his son’s head. “Come, Han. Today, Father will teach you ‘The Art of War,'” he said, adding, “You can’t eat cake until you’ve memorized it all.”

By the time Luo Yining emerged from the kitchen, hot and flustered, with a plate of steamed jujube cake, young Luo Han was sitting at the desk, methodically reciting the Thirty-Six Stratagems.

“The food will get cold if you don’t eat soon…” Luo Yining wanted her son to eat first, considering the effort she had put into making the cake. Although the taste was mediocre, far inferior to the cook’s, she didn’t understand why Luo Han liked it so much.

“What’s wrong with it being cold? He can eat it cold,” Luo Shenyuan said flatly, taking Yining’s hand. “Come, I’ll accompany you to pay respects to Mother.” Without further discussion, he led Yining out.

Young Luo Han finished reciting the entire book by the time the candle on the candlestick had burned out.

The jujube cake, of course, was stone cold.

His mother was gone too.

Only the flickering shadows of the candle remained in the room.

Young Luo Han couldn’t help but think of a word – petty. He had never met anyone prettier than his father. Such a strong desire for revenge.

Young Luo Han wiped his eyes and continued memorizing while nibbling on the cold jujube cake.

At eight years old, Luo Han learned an important lesson: never compete with his father for anything. It was futile.

Four years passed, and Luo Han experienced a growth spurt, quickly surpassing Luo Yining in height. He had become a young man, and his relationship with Yining was no longer as close as it had been in his childhood.

He had just returned from studying at the Imperial Academy, travel-worn and dusty.

His baby sister, who had just started teething, leaned against their mother’s chest. Oddly enough, not only did the boys resemble Luo Shenyuan, but the girls did too. Wrapped in a pink silk jacket, she was gnawing on her foot and babbling happily.

His mother, not having seen him for a long time, wanted to stand up and hug him, but she couldn’t with the baby in her arms. She could only smile, saying with some excitement, “You’re finally back! Your father is waiting for you in the study.”

She knew her son had grown more distant from her than before.

Luo Han bowed politely, “I’ll greet Father first, then come back to pay my respects to you.”

As he walked away, thinking of the little pink bundle in his mother’s arms, his heart ached.

He couldn’t compete with his father, nor with his oblivious little sister. His second brother, more interested in martial arts, had gone to serve under their maternal grandfather. Luo Han was fond of Uncle Wei Ting but had no time to visit him.

As the eldest legitimate son, he had to shoulder the responsibilities of the Luo family and its future. This was his father’s expectation of him.

So everything else would have to wait.

He was no longer a child; naturally, his mother would become less important, right?

Luo Han let out a soft sigh.

At least his father was satisfied with this arrangement.

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