Xiao Ying kept his eyes glued on little Ming Cheng.
The child had entered the palace, kicking off the real start of the plot.
This was where it all really began: who knows how many chapters in.
Nonetheless, all the stupid fluff had been taken care of, the Emperor's son had entered the palace and his journey towards the throne had begin, and now, the games would begin.
Xiao Ying still didn't know how he would be interacting with little Ming Cheng, but he was sure that he would be needing to, considering there was no other reason for him to be here, unless watching the contents of his story playing out - in the same anime style that he was so used to watching - was some sort of purgatorial torture for him to undergo.
The small child was being led by the Lan Chang through the western periphery servants corridors, running down the side of the palace in a small, external alcoves that weren't made particularly visible, all the way to the kitchen, which was handily kept off to the side, behind one of the palace wings to conceal its presence.
Xiao Ying had deliberately constructed the palace to look and maintain the appearance of looking like a building built and run effortlessly without much concern for logistics nor the restraint that came from restriction, and had on purposely made everything that royalty had ever interacted with shiny and gold, while giving the servants wooden tools and walkways, because that was how royalty works like.
It would eventually become quite revolutionary of little Meng Cheng to continue to associate with the servants and to gift his possessions of gold to them once he became prince, accepting their gifts of wood, on his birthdays and his anniversaries, despite the controversies.
The Queen of England had a flipping golden piano in one of her speeches, so what else was he supposed to think.
Current Xiao Ying couldn't be held responsible for past Xiao Ying's mistakes, despite his current situation.
Little Ming Cheng was being guided through, his tiny mind needing to remember and memorise his current layout in case for later.
Xiao Ying watched as his tiny head whipped round, from side to side, trying to learn as much as he could over the course of the walk, completely unaware that what he was currently looking at was absolutely nothing compared to the rest of the palace, yet completely and utterly overwhelmed by just what he was seeing.
It would be helpful for Xiao Ying to have a map of the palace, and to just keep it on the wall, for him to use to guide Ming Cheng, and to track any potential enemies.
He winced as he remembered one chapter of his work when he simply bullet pointed the layout of the palace, rather than gradually feeding it to his audience, in anticipation of a chase scene.
Little Ming Cheng would be running through the palace, dodging soldiers and other servants loyal to a particular general, who was launching a coup against the emperor. He would be running through both the servants corridors and the main halls, using the quickest way that he knew to reach the Imperial bedroom to inform the man of the revolt and having a new set of secret tunnels revealed to him, which led from the Emperor's bedroom to his office, the treasury, the throne room, and outside, all the passageways underground.
It would be really useful for Xiao Ying to have a map drawn out in anticipation of it all, he mused as he watched little Ming Cheng reach the kitchens, and be stripped of his clothes.
The closed his eyes, tears leaking out of them anyway, from the shame of his appearance, not knowing how his scarred and bleeding body was winning him sympathy.
Xiao Ying closed his eyes as well, forcing himself to think of a way to draw it out, without resorting to tracing it out on his skin with his nails.
It wouldn't even be a percent of what the little boy was currently facing.
He knew that he was a cruel man, but seeing how he had written the mauling of a child, actually seeing what he had done, rather than a simple, one line description of wounds being smattered around the boy's chest, arms, and legs, some of them scarring silver from age, while others fresh, raw and bleeding, was too different.
He had done this with his words.
He had inflicted this pain on a child, and here he was, turning away, the sight being too uncomfortable for him to see.
He was a terrible person to simply be squawking out about his supposed map that was needed, over and over again, in his mind, rather than face right in front of him.
Whimpers and cries poured throughout the scene, invading through the tight grip of Xiao Ying's hands over his ears. He could feel the shards of ice which had formed on his own face, exactly where he was sure the small child's tears ran.
Pain, Xiao Ying, had to accept, could only be given and experienced, where there was value.
He tried to console himself that this was really nothing, that none of this was real, and that the little boy would be subjected to much, much worse, with needles pierced through his skin by enemy spies, with stab wounds from enemy swords on battle fields, and poison given by enemy assassins, trying to kill him at his very own coronation to become the crown prince.
Xiao Ying knew that he really ought to turn around and watch every whimper of pain that little Ming Cheng gave as alcohol was poured onto his wounds.
He owed the child at least that much, in compensation for inflicting so much pain on him.
If he was ever going to get better - better than embellishing his useless, shitty work with violence against children - he needed to own what he had done, and atone for it.