In the imperial palace of the capital of Da Zhou, a small figure in goose-yellow flitted past the towering palace walls.

“Was that… her?” Shadow Guard A asked uncertainly.

“Not ‘was that’—it definitely was!” Shadow Guard B said with certainty.

“Then what do we do?” Shadow Guard A asked.

“I saw nothing,” Shadow Guard B said firmly.

“Fine, I saw nothing either,” Shadow Guard A said, resolutely closing his eyes.

The small figure landed lightly on the ground and let out a soft laugh, a sound as clear and bright as a mountain spring trickling over stones—utterly lovely.

Dressed in a single goose-yellow robe that set off her ethereal, pristine air, her features were as fine as if carved from powder and jade, as though heaven itself had shaped her—so perfect that not a single flaw could be found.

Her eyes were like her father’s—bright with mischief, quick and lively as flowing water; even at her young age, those dark, deep eyes already held a glint of cunning.

Her nose was like her mother’s—straight and delicate, the kind people couldn’t resist wanting to pinch.

Her mouth was like her brother’s—thin-lipped. No one had yet heard her speak, but just looking at those thin lips, one could tell that whatever she said would be sharp and formidable.

Her skin was fair, faintly flushed with pink, so delicate it seemed it might break if touched—she was like a porcelain doll, the kind people wanted to cradle carefully for fear of dropping her, bumping her, chipping her.

And yet her temperament was nothing like a porcelain doll at all.

Young as she was, she already walked with a graceful, elegant gait. She walked forward step by step, and from a distance she caught sight of a palace hall ahead, its gates tightly shut.

She had once asked her mother why they no longer lived in the capital, inside the palace.

Her mother had said there was someone in the palace she didn’t like.

So she had asked her father—since he was a man, why didn’t he simply drive away the person her mother disliked?

Her father had said the palace already belonged to her brother now; he couldn’t drive anyone away.

So she had grown unhappy, and decided she would come see for herself just what kind of person lived here.

Soon, the small figure flitted over the palace walls once more.

This time, the shadow guards stationed here were thrown into a panic. “She’s here!”

“Stop her, quickly!”

“Do you really think we can stop her?”

“Then hurry and report it to His Majesty!”

“Where is His Majesty?”

“Uh… in Consort Li’s palace!”

And so, the whole group of shadow guards scrambled about in a frenzy, utterly at a loss. Whenever His Majesty visited Consort Li’s palace, no matter how urgent the matter, he was not to be disturbed!

This was bad. This was very bad.

Whether it was the shadow guards around Jun Beiyue or those around Jun Buli, there was hardly a single one who didn’t know Little Princess Jun Yaotiao.

This little troublemaker was even more of a handful than her father had been in his younger days! An absolute little devil.

The moment Jun Yaotiao dropped into Consort Li’s courtyard, she immediately sensed something was off—there wasn’t a single soul in sight, and every door and window was shut tight.

“Are they up to something bad?” Jun Yaotiao thought suspiciously, and crept forward on tiptoe toward the building.

Inside, both Jun Buli and Li Qinqin quickly sensed someone approaching.

“Your shadow guards are getting more useless by the day,” Li Qinqin said with a laugh.

Jun Buli’s fangs were sunk into her shoulder, his ink-dark eyes clouded with shadow. The only person in this world who could slip past that many shadow guards without a sound was his father, the Emperor!

But no—it couldn’t possibly be him.

Yet just as he registered his surprise, a faint sound came from outside—the tearing of window paper. In that instant, Jun Buli viciously ripped open Consort Li’s robe, exposing a generous expanse of bare skin.

From outside, one couldn’t see his fangs at all—only that he was pressing his whole body over Consort Li, his head buried against her neck, her torn clothing and voluptuous figure completing a scene that looked scandalously intimate.

Jun Yaotiao nearly burst into tears. She was only about six years old—what did she know? All she felt was sheer terror.

How could her big brother the Emperor be so wicked? It was disgusting, it was terrifying!

She pressed her lips together, unable to hold back any longer, and let out a wail. “Waaah—Mama… boo hoo hoo…”

The moment he heard that familiar voice, Jun Buli froze, then instantly let go of Consort Li, tossing her aside so forcefully that even she was startled.

“That’s Yaotiao!” Jun Buli leapt off the bed in a panic, completely ignoring Consort Li, and rushed out of the room.

Outside the door, Jun Yaotiao was already crying like a little rain-soaked kitten. The moment she saw Jun Buli burst out, she froze for a second, then threw her head back and wailed even louder. “Waaah… waaah…”

Jun Buli feared nothing in heaven or on earth—except this little sister’s tears. Every time he returned to the small town in the northern frontier, he practically became her personal packhorse, letting her ride on his shoulders and crawl all over him.

This little brat was the treasure of both their parents’ hearts—and the treasure of his own heart too.

“Yaotiao, don’t cry… don’t cry, tell me what’s wrong, how did you get here?” Jun Buli tried to step closer, but Jun Yaotiao, still crying, drew a firm line between them. “Don’t come near me, you terrifying, disgusting man!” she declared, before bursting into fresh sobs.

At that moment, Consort Li, now fully dressed, hurried out as well. Seeing the scene, she was stunned—she had never once seen Jun Buli in such a gentle mood, coaxing a little girl like this.

Anyone could guess with their eyes closed that this little girl was Jun Buli’s own younger sister—Jun Yao, whose pet name was Yaotiao.

The moment Jun Yaotiao spotted Consort Li coming out, she froze again, then cried even louder. “You shameless, wanton, disgusting fat woman!”

At those words, Consort Li’s flower-like face instantly wilted.

“You little brat, who are you calling that?”

“Calling you that!” Jun Yaotiao answered loudly even through her tears.

“You—you—you little—”

But before Consort Li could finish cursing, Jun Buli shoved her hard, sending her straight back into the room, and slammed the door shut with a bang.

“Yaotiao, be good, stop crying. Whatever it is, we can talk it through, all right?” Jun Buli coaxed patiently.

“She… she… boo hoo, you and him…” Jun Yaotiao pressed her lips together, her little face full of worry, unable to finish for a long moment.

Seeing that she’d mostly stopped crying, Jun Buli felt a surge of relief and waited patiently.

But then Jun Yaotiao asked, “What exactly were you and her doing? Why did you rip her clothes off? It was so scary!” Jun Buli felt his thoughts scatter in the wind—what a mess.

“That… because she’s my brother’s consort, so…” Jun Buli didn’t even know how to explain. He’d only meant to stage a scene, never expecting this little girl to show up.

Jun Yaotiao blinked her big, tear-filled eyes and asked again, “She’s your brother’s consort, so that means you get to rip her clothes off?”

“Yes, yes!” Jun Buli nodded quickly—that was the only answer he could give.

But Jun Yaotiao was a curious little thing, and she pressed further. “Then why did you rip off her clothes?”

How had the question circled right back around? Jun Buli took a deep breath—as long as she wasn’t crying, it was fine.

“Because she’s my brother’s consort, so my brother rips her clothes off.” Could that logic possibly hold together?

“Then why did you rip off your own consort’s clothes?” Jun Yaotiao had completely stopped crying now, thoroughly absorbed in wrestling with this deep and complicated question. Jun Buli stared up at the sky, speechless. Someone, anyone, please come save him.