Chapter 1, A Little Chubby Boy Falls from the Sky

It is nothing, Mother, the child is just... just...

"Who? Who dares to frighten my Zong'er? Tell Father what that person looks like in the dream. Father will send troops to cut him down right away!" Upon hearing that someone had frightened Zhu Youcong, the plump Prince Fu was furious and roared that the appearance was... not too handsome, not too imposing, and even a little bit comical.

Before he could take a few steps, a beautiful woman rushed over with a group of people and tightly embraced him

In the courtyard, within the pavilion. A little chubby boy, yes, that's right! Just a little chubby boy, not a pretty boy, and certainly not a handsome one.

Good! Good! Since my son Cong'er says not to fill it out, then we won't fill it out! The Prince of Fortune indulgently took Zhu Youcong from Yao's embrace and said with a smile: "What else does Cong'er want? Quickly tell Father King. As long as you don't do anything foolish again!"

I! I can no longer go on... That regret, that hatred of Zhu Youcong, he directly rose and walked towards the pond outside the pavilion...

A large, overweight man came rushing over while shouting. Of course, given his considerable size, his speed was... well, let's not even mention it; he couldn't be fast. Nevertheless, anyone could see the anxiety on his chubby face.

If he could endure all of this, the next piece of news he pieced together struck him like a thunderbolt. His father was named Zhu Changxun! Yes, Zhu Changxun, the one who would be boiled by Li Zicheng nineteen years later, weighing up to 300 jin, unable to walk, the legendary lecherous, greedy, and miserly Prince of Fortune of the Ming Dynasty!

Oh my God... why are you treating me this way! Tang Yi, oh no, I should now call you Zhu Youcong, stood up and pointed his chubby little hand to the sky and asked? Little hand? Yes, it is a little hand, because he is only eight years old now. It is said that he is chubby because, from the reflection in the bronze mirror, he currently weighs at least one hundred jin. But that’s nothing, after all, in his previous life, he was not exactly a handsome guy, and besides, he is now twenty years younger, so it can be considered a bit of compensation.

"Hmm, Cong'er, be good and don't do anything foolish again. Whatever you want, your father will get it for you. If anyone bullies you, your father will personally deal with them!" After speaking gently, he turned to the guards beside him and shouted, "You bunch of fools, hurry up and get someone to fill this lake for me!"

With this roar, the entire residence of Prince Fu was thrown into chaos, with everyone springing into action.

"It is quite chilly here, Father and Mother should go inside." Zhu Youcong certainly could not express his current thoughts, as those events would not occur for at least another ten years. Otherwise, he would not be the chubby boy who had traveled through time, but rather a fallen pig from the heavens, regarded as a monster by others. This is something that requires careful consideration; since he did not wish to die, should he really stand here singing, "I stand in the fierce wind, wishing to sweep away the lingering heartache, gazing at the heavens, as the clouds move in all directions..."? The cold wind of the Little Ice Age in Luoyang would not only turn a person into a popsicle but at the very least could lead to pneumonia. Moreover, there are two relatives here who care for him no matter what.

What is it? The Prince of Fu, Zhu Changxun, was also intently watching his precious son in his arms

"Good! Good! Come inside!" The Prince of Fortune suddenly picked up Zhu Youcong, and one could hardly fathom where his legs found the strength to support nearly 400 pounds. Oh, of course, the Prince of Fortune is not that heavy yet, but together, the father and son must weigh at least 300 pounds. With such determination, yes, determination! Quite a considerable determination! It was impossible not to walk into the room with such resolve.

"Cōng'er, think quickly. If you remember anything, tell your father! Your mother and I will be waiting here!" Upon seeing that his son was no longer attempting to commit suicide, King Fatfu felt relieved and continuously stroked Zhu Changxun's head with his plump hands

Father, Mother, Child... Child only recalls some matters from the dream, may I think about them again? Forget it, sigh... Let's just accept what has come. Stay? There is no choice but to stay, otherwise what else can be done? Returning seems impossible now, and what about reckless suicide? Not to mention whether it could succeed under the heavy protection of the Prince and Princess, even if it did, so what? Traveling through time again? The likelihood is slim; heaven is not that bored! But what is the purpose of staying? Not to mention whether it could succeed under the heavy protection of the Prince and Princess, even if it did, so what? Traveling through time again? The likelihood is slim; heaven is not that bored! But what is the purpose of staying? To eat, drink, and wait in the royal residence for the executioner's knife that will fall on my neck nineteen years later? It would be better to jump into the lake now; at least I wouldn't have to watch my fat old father being stewed, nor be thrown into the wilderness to feed the dogs! It is better to think of a strategy quickly while there is still time, as I am about to face natural disasters, man-made calamities, and the Tartars. Either avoid them or find a way to deal with them.

Sigh... the little chubby one sighed again. In fact, it really can't be blamed on him; who could be as unfortunate as he is? He had just bought a house and finished the renovations when an unscrupulous contractor dug a pit in front and piled up dirt behind... As a result... the newly purchased house collapsed, and he found himself in another world. What is even more frustrating is that the era he has crossed into is quite dire, the late Ming Dynasty, to be precise, it is now the first month of the second year of the Tianqi era. What he cannot accept is that he has become Zhu Youcong, a person who has never left a name in history and should not even exist.

Ah? This... this has left Zhu Youcong at a loss. I was just saying that casually to comfort you, was it really necessary to be so agitated? Killing someone? Not to mention your age and that the Ming dynasty's ancestral system prohibits the princes from leading troops, but based solely on the impression from a dream, can you even find this person?

It has been three days since Tang Yi came into this world. Apart from the first day, when he was overwhelmed by everyone's care and shock, leading to a state of faintness, he has been sighing and daydreaming every day.

"Cōng'er?" Yáo Shì anxiously called Zhū Yóu Cōng out of his thoughts. "Is Cōng'er feeling unwell again? Hurry! Quickly summon the physician from the residence!"

Mother... Mother! Looking at this woman, whose face was filled with shock and tears, Zhu Youcong could not help but fall silent. From the very first second he arrived in this world, this woman had been by his side at all times. It was she who had called for help when he jumped into the lake yesterday. Remembering the scene of her in utter terror yesterday, Zhu Youcong truly could not bear to provoke her like this. And she was his mother in this world—Princess Yao, the consort of the Prince of Fu. Remembering the scene of her in utter terror yesterday, Zhu Youcong truly could not bear to provoke her like this. And she was his mother in this world—Princess Yao, the consort of the Prince of Fu

Cōng'er... my dear Cōng'er! At such a young age, what troubles you so? Tell your mother! Please do not do anything foolish! Yao tightly embraced Zhu Youcōng, her face covered in tears. It is hard to believe that such a dignified princess has not had any children until now, and after much difficulty, she finally gave birth to Zhu Youcōng. For the past eight years, she has cherished him as if he were made of sugar, afraid he might melt, and held him as if he were made of glass, afraid he might fall. Not to mention that if anyone were to let Zhu Youcōng bump or scrape himself, even if he cried for just a little longer than usual, she would feel heartbroken for half a day, let alone the shocking act of suicide he attempted yesterday.

Father... Father King, the child no longer desires anything. I think... I think it must be that I was frightened in a dream a few days ago, feeling a bit dazed! The child... the child will no longer act foolishly. " Protected by the warm affection of winter, Zhu Youcong has now completely succumbed.

Sighing, the chubby boy held his head in his hands, staring blankly into the distance

Father... Father King! Zhu Youcong turned his face to look at the panting Fuwang, who was calling out in a soft and gentle voice. He truly could not imagine that the historically absurd Fuwang would be so concerned about him. It should be noted that yesterday's suicide attempt had frightened his plump father quite a bit, and he had even heard that he had a high fever that night. Yet today, at this very moment, he still rushed over recklessly. What could Zhu Youcong say or do in response to this?

"Cōng'er, my dear, have you suffered some grievance? Tell your father, and I shall take care of it for you!" As a father, the Prince of Fu, Zhu Changxun, had nothing but affection for his youngest son. From the day Zhu Youcong was born on the 23rd of the second month in the Jiayin year, for over eight years and more than two thousand days, he could not bear to go a single day without seeing his son, or he would be unable to eat or sleep. It is worth noting that this precious son was born just as he was leaving the capital, and on the journey to his fief, he limited his daily travel to no more than ten li to care for his newborn son. Upon arriving in Luoyang, when Zhu Youcong fell ill, his first thought was not the rumored indulgences of eating, drinking, and gambling, but rather to spend a considerable sum to build a warm chamber and hire several wet nurses, as well as engage several renowned physicians. He personally took care of and accompanied his son day and night, sharing several peaceful nights of sleep with Yao Shi. A month ago, when this little son fell ill once again, he simply moved in to guard him closely.

Father... Father King! There is no need to do this, my child... my child will no longer act foolishly. Zhu Youcong did not wish to ruin the beauty of this garden, nor did he want the Duke and Duchess of Fu to become so agitated on his account