Inside the grand hall, Empress Yun sat gracefully in her chair, placing Princess Yun on her lap. Emperor Yun guided the Crown Prince to sit beside him, his large hand resting firm yet gentle on his son's shoulder.
For a moment, everything was warm and quiet.
Shanjun stood in the corner, still tense, still alive, and silently wondering if he could ask the Empress for a dumpling as hazard pay. After all, surviving one of the Princess' schemes should at least come with snacks. Maybe two. No—three, for emotional damages.
Meanwhile, the culprit had already moved on from near-death parental questioning to full dumpling delight. She reached for her favorite moon dumpling and bit into it with the kind of joy only five-year-olds truly understand. Her cheeks puffed adorably as she chewed, eyes sparkling with happiness.
Empress Yun reached over and gave her cheek a gentle pinch, the kind only mothers could manage, a perfect balance of affection and subtle "you're not fooling me."
"So, little dumpling," she began, her voice light and playful, "what trouble did you cause this time?" Empress Yun raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly.
"I haven't done anything yet," Princess Yun replied, sitting up straighter on her mother's lap.
"Yet?" Empress Yun echoed, her smile widening. "So, you're planning to?"
Before she could dig the hole any deeper, Crown Prince Yun jumped in like a true older brother. "No, Mother," he said quickly. "Little Sister just missed me and came to watch me train. That's all."
Emperor Yun sipped his tea with a chuckle. "Missed you, did she? Then tell me little dumpling, why do you never come and see this father? It seems you never miss this father."
Empress Yun joined in with a teasing smile. "Yes, little dumpling. You only visit me when there is moon dumplings involved. Never to play with your poor, lonely mother."
Princess Yun paused, clearly trapped. Her small shoulders tensed as she swallowed her last bite carefully. "Father and Mother are busy," she said carefully, eyes wide and innocent. "I can't disturb you two."
There was a long silence.
Then Emperor Yun threw his head back and laughed—loud and warm—nearly spilling his tea. Empress Yun chuckled too, shaking her head in fond exasperation.
In the corner, Shanjun sighed in relief again. She was safe. He was safe. The dumplings were safe. For now.
He took one brave step forward and cleared his throat softly. "…May I also request a moon dumpling, Your Majesty?" he asked politely, though his eyes sparkled with a silent, desperate message: Please feed me, I almost died today.
Princess Yun turned to him with a long, dramatic stare. Reluctantly, she handed him one moon dumpling, her tiny hand slow and serious, like she was giving away treasure.
Shanjun took it gratefully, then leaned down and whispered, "Only one? Aren't I your partner, Princess?" He gave her a sly grin. Partner in crime, of course but that part didn't need to be said out loud.
Princess Yun squinted at him and tried to look terrifying. Unfortunately, with her big round eyes and puffed cheeks full of dumpling, she looked more like an angry squirrel than a fearsome princess. Still, she snatched another dumpling from the plate and shoved it into his hand.
Shanjun chuckled and backed away, nibbling on his victory snack.
Emperor Yun, still sipping his tea, watched this miniature power struggle unfold with deep amusement. He finally spoke, his voice smooth and playful. "Instead of swordsmanship, how about I find a teacher to teach you reading and writing, little dumpling?"
"I do know how to read and write. Though…" she frowned, "…big brother said my handwriting looks like wriggling worms."
Emperor Yun laughed. "Wriggling worms, hmm? When did you even learn that? How come this father didn't know?"
Crown Prince Yun raised his hand. "I taught her."
Princess Yun nodded vigorously. "Yes! Big Brother sneaks into my room at night and reads me storybooks. So now I know how to read!"
Shanjun, chewing his dumpling in the corner, nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Empress Yun raised a delicate eyebrow and murmured with a smile, "Ah, so you mean your brother sneaks around the palace after bedtime… and no one stops him?"
Shanjun froze mid-chew. His eyes darted left. Then right. Then up, as if the ceiling might offer him an escape route. He decided to chew very slowly and pretend he hadn't heard a single word. He was a bodyguard, not a bedtime monitor.
Meanwhile, Emperor Yun and Empress Yun exchanged a look that said, "Our children are adorable, dangerous, and possibly in charge of this household."
And right on cue, because chaos clearly ran in her blood, Princess Yun started choking on her moon dumpling. Her tiny face went pink, then red, as she coughed into her small hand.
Crown Prince Yun let out a soft, resigned sigh. The sound of an older brother who had already survived too many surprise choking episodes and public embarrassments.
"She's still young," he said patiently. "I think she gets scared and lonely sleeping alone. That's why I read her bedtime stories."
Princess Yun nodded eagerly. "Mm-hmm! Big Brother reads really well!"
Emperor Yun smiled and shook his head. "These two. Tsk."
Empress Yun raised an eyebrow, amused. "And why didn't you ask this mother to sleep with you, little dumpling?"
Princess Yun blinked, then answered with absolute devastating honesty, "Shanjun said Mother and Father need time alone at night to do something really important. So I can't disturb you."
The air froze.
Shanjun, mid-bite, froze too. Then choked. Spectacularly. The dumpling shot out of his mouth and landed with a plop on the floor. His face turned several shades of panic as Emperor Yun and Empress Yun slowly turned to glare at him with the full, unblinking power of imperial parents.
"I—I meant… meditation!" Shanjun squeaked, eyes wide. "The Empress and Emperor meditate at night, right? Breathing exercises? For royal health? Very sacred. Very… quiet."
Princess Yun nodded helpfully. "Yes! Shanjun said Father's breathing sounds like a dragon. Very powerful."
The emperor stared at Shanjun. The empress raised one elegant brow.
Shanjun bowed so fast he nearly fell over. "Long live the Emperor and Empress," he muttered weakly.
Princess Yun, completely unfazed, reached for another dumpling. "Shanjun's very wise," she said, mouth full.
Crown Prince Yun just rubbed his forehead. This was his life now—part-time heir to the empire, full-time babysitter to a little dumpling with a talent for chaos.
Sensing his son's quiet suffering, Emperor Yun turned back to his daughter with a serious look. "Little dumpling," he said, his voice softer now, "it's not that Father doesn't want you to learn swordsmanship. I just want you to grow up safely and happily."
Empress Yun nodded, her eyes warm. "Yes, your mother and father are here. We'll protect you and your brother."
Princess Yun's chewing slowed. "But… the demons. Will Big Brother have to fight them in the future?"
The emperor's stern face softened. "Yes," he said gently. "But that's not for you to worry about. That's Father's job for now. And one day, your brother's. You… you just need to stay little for a while longer."
Empress Yun leaned in, tucking a loose strand of Princess Yun's hair behind her ear. "It's alright to play, to laugh, and to eat as many dumplings as you want. That's your greatest duty right now."
Princess Yun's big eyes blinked up at them, her cheeks still full of dumpling. She looked torn between accepting the wisdom of her royal parents and insisting on her secret career as a future demon-slaying princess.
"...So, no sword?" she asked hopefully, just to make sure.
"No sword," Emperor Yun confirmed. "For now."
Shanjun, still bowing in the corner and trying to breathe without drawing attention, muttered under his breath, "Thank the heavens."
Princess Yun looked at each of them, one by one, her cheeks round with dumpling and her eyes shiny with happiness. Then she smiled wide and took another bite.
In the corner, Shanjun also smiled a little, relieved the royal chaos had settled. He still didn't understand how a five-year-old with tiny legs, big eyes, and a snack obsession managed to rule the entire palace, but he respected it.
Princess Yun looked around quietly. Her brother was chewing a moon dumpling with perfect manners. Her father was sipping his tea with that same serious face he always made when pretending not to be amused. And her mother's hand moved gently through her hair, soft and warm.
At some point, she realized this wasn't real. It was a dream. A beautiful one. A dream that made her wish time could stop right here, right now. Forever.
So this is happiness, she thought. This warm, full feeling inside her chest. She was so deeply, completely loved. And she loved them too, with her entire heart. But something felt strange. She didn't know when she had started to forget this feeling, or why it felt like something inside her was breaking apart, shattering. She couldn't name it. She didn't know if she felt happy, or sad, or angry, or just… full. Like all those emotions had jumped into her at once and started arguing.
She didn't try to stop them. This was her dream, after all. She'd stay just a little longer. Just a few more seconds of this peaceful warmth, surrounded by the people she missed more than anything.
She also knew, outside this dream, someone was waiting. The family around her now was her family, but so were the ones outside the dream. The loud ones. The sarcastic ones. The ones who always followed her into trouble and shared snacks and secrets and sleepy smiles. They were waiting. So she took one last look at her father's calm eyes, her mother's gentle smile, and her brother slightly raised brow that probably meant "stop staring and chew your food."
And then she closed her eyes.
The dream faded.
The warmth stayed.