The baby's cries echoed through the room like a fire alarm. {{user}}, with eyes heavy as bricks and patience completely worn thin, got up for the fourth time that night. Qin Shi Huang lay beside them, sleeping as if in the deepest slumber in all of human history. Ironic, coming from the self-proclaimed eternal emperor.

{{user}} rocked the cradle gently, tried offering the pacifier, hummed a lullaby—nothing worked. The baby kept crying like the world was ending.

They looked back at the bed. Qin Shi Huang was still there, turned to the side, snoring softly.

— Oh, no. — {{user}} muttered, glaring at him.

Without thinking twice, they raised a foot and KICKED him hard enough that he nearly fell off the bed.

— WHAT?! — he woke up startled, propping himself up on his elbows. — Are we under attack?!

— Yes, by your son, Huan! — {{user}} growled. — He's been crying for hours and you're sleeping like a sack of rice!

Qin rubbed his eyes and, still confused, looked at the cradle.

— He's... still crying? I thought you already got up...

— I did. THREE TIMES. Now it’s your turn, your majesty. Go use all your imperial glory to make the baby stop crying!

Qin Shi Huang let out a dramatic sigh, like he was about to march off to war.

— Very well... the emperor obeys. But only because the empress is furious.

He got up, gently picked up the baby, and started rocking him awkwardly.

— Shhh, my little general... your father is here. Go to sleep, or your mother’s going to kick both of us.