Chapter 223: Father-Son Talk
"So what if she’s A-level? That doesn’t change her status as a commoner, let alone the fact that her Fertility Value is zero. There’s no shortage of excellent females at her level among the noble families. She isn’t even half the woman your brother’s fiancée, Bai Rao, is."
"You should know that you are the future heir to the Empire and a Level 3S male. How can you marry a female who can’t even bear children?"
"Why can’t I?"
It was rare for Ye Ming to contradict his father like this.
"Father, have you forgotten? The wife selection lottery you had Ye Yan organize—wasn’t that to demonstrate the Empire’s democratic policies?"
"Why should a Prince only be allowed to marry into noble families? It’s unfair to the females of common families, and it’s unfair to me."
"Fair? You enjoy all the glories of a Prince, and you have the gall to talk to me about ’fair’?"
The Monarch scoffed at his son’s naivete. "Don’t you get it? The lottery is just a public ritual. In reality, the final outcome is controlled by the Imperial Family. How could I possibly allow my sons to marry those common females?"
"Ah, Ming’er, I’ve told you before that you aren’t as decisive as your brother. He knows what he needs far better than you do."
"You need to understand that human nature is greedy. Class divisions exist to give us better control over the unruly elements. The stricter the rules, the more grateful they become for any scrap of leniency that slips through our fingers."
"I’ve told you long ago: an heir must cast aside distracting thoughts and emotions. If you feel you’re not up to the task, then let your brother take your place..."
Hearing this, Ye Ming’s expression remained unchanged. He had his own principles—stubborn, yet firm. He admitted his father had a point about some things, but that didn’t mean he had to obey him completely.
His tone was composed and calm. "Father, I have indeed enjoyed the privileges of being a Prince, but I have also fulfilled the responsibilities my title entails. I don’t believe I have done anything wrong."
"Furthermore, I was never handed the title of heir by Ye Yan. I earned it through my own hard work and the people’s support. You have no right to revoke it on a whim."
"Moreover, you always say Shi Lan isn’t good enough, that she’s unworthy of me. But are your metrics for ’excellence’ just powerful spiritual power or a high Fertility Value? If someone had those but was morally corrupt and vile, would you still call them excellent?"
"In my eyes, Shi Lan is the most outstanding female I have ever met. She is brave and fearless when facing the Insect Clan, she doesn’t treat people differently based on their status, and she certainly doesn’t act high and mighty or look down on males just because she’s a female."
"I think she’s wonderful. I love her. And she is worth it."
The Monarch’s anger, which he had only just managed to suppress, flared up again at his son’s words.
’Even after being locked in prison for three years, this eldest son of his hadn’t lost a single follower. His wings had truly hardened. He really didn’t have grounds to just strip him of his title as heir.’
He pointed at him for a long moment, then spat out a few words, his fury boiling over. "Utterly foolish! Naive!"
"What’s the use of a good personality? Abilities are what provide tangible benefits."
"I don’t want to see you. Get out!"
Ye Ming stood up in silence. A shard of ceramic was embedded in his trousers; he brushed it away with a blank expression and turned to leave.
Just as he reached the door to the study, a heartbroken whisper followed him. "Ming’er, you’ve changed."
"You never would have contradicted me like this before."
Ye Ming faltered for a moment but didn’t turn around. "Neither have you, Father."
With that, he left.
Three years had created a rift between father and son. Perhaps it had started with the Monarch’s heartless decree forbidding any visitors while he was imprisoned on Black Star. He had sensed it long ago—he mattered far less to his father than he’d once believed.
’Perhaps he never wanted a son, but a slave upon whom he could display his power and authority.’
’He Hanshi had been right. Three years... a lot can change...’
Back in his own palace, Ye Ming gazed at the wooden figurine in his study, and an inevitable sense of loss filled his eyes.
His parents had divorced early on. When he was a child, his father had spent more time with him, even occasionally carving little wooden figures for him as a reward while tutoring him.
The father in his childhood memories was gentle, powerful, and immensely knowledgeable. He had adored and revered him.
It was only as he grew older that he gradually realized his parents’ separation truly was due to the ideological differences his mother had always talked about.
He used to throw tantrums, hating his mother for divorcing his father and hating his father for remarrying and having Ye Yan.
But now he understood that it was probably an unavoidable part of both their lives.
With her personality, his mother was bound to separate from his father sooner or later. And his father would inevitably need other sons. He was just one of his father’s options for perpetuating his power.
Ye Ming sat in his chair, wearily rubbing the bridge of his nose. The pain in his forehead and knee was becoming more distinct, but he didn’t have the energy to tend to his wounds.
His gaze swept over the wooden figure on the desk, and he silently put it away in a cabinet.
With ten minutes left until his birthday ended at midnight, he suddenly received a message from his mother: [Happy birthday.]
Through the cold screen, the two simple words seemed almost stiff, but his heart warmed considerably.
’Teacher didn’t forget my birthday.’
The next message was a photo: [Go on a treasure hunt for your birthday present.]
Ye Ming opened it. It was a photo of a hand-drawn diagram that looked like a map, with the endpoint marked by a little drawing of a gift box.
The light gradually returned to his eyes. He replied: [Thank you, Teacher.]
He typed and deleted the message several times before settling on the single word ’Teacher,’ still seemingly too embarrassed to let the title ’Mother’ pass his lips.
There was no further reply. Ye Ming quickly changed into a clean shirt and hurried out the door.
「Inside the private residence of a special-grade teacher at the Imperial Capital School.」
The Dean stared at the three words on the screen, a hint of sadness in her eyes.
’After all these years, Ming’er is still unwilling to call me Mother.’
Lu Dinfeng sensed her mood and thoughtfully came over to massage her shoulders. "Are you all right?"
Having been married for over twenty years, the two shared a deep, unspoken understanding.
"Worried about the Eldest Prince again?"
The Dean sighed. "I am. It seems that even after all this time, that child is still unwilling to forgive me."
"Have you not told him the real reason you divorced?"
The Dean shook her head. "Ming’er has suffered enough. I don’t have the heart. Besides, he trusts *him* more. He wouldn’t necessarily listen to me..."
"You should find a chance to tell him. The Prince is not like his father. He’s fundamentally an upright and kind person. And now that he has a female he likes, perhaps he can better understand how you feel."
The Dean was silent for a moment. "We’ll see. The time isn’t right."
With that, she lowered her gaze and fiddled with a chip, playing a video.