When I was six, the white-haired emperor asked me, “Good child, do you want to be empress?”

Frightened, I hid behind my father and shook my head like a rattle-drum. “But you already have an empress.”

The emperor smiled and patted my head. “Not my empress. His.”

I turned to look at the little boy beside him.

Although he was very pretty, I still shook my head.

The little boy lowered his head sadly.

I pursed my lips, feeling a little sorry for him.

The emperor saw it all.

“He has had no mother since he was little, and no friends either. Before long, I will have to leave him too.”

“He is very pitiful, and the palace is so big. He cries at night. Can you help me keep him company?”

I thought for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “All right.”

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