The full responsibility for the upcoming imperial hunt had been handed to Shen Changlang. Although he harbored dissatisfaction with Yan Yan’s ascension, he remained a man of diligent action.
When Ruan Jinyu arrived at the main library of the Palace of Ultimate Bliss, Commander Shen was already there, reporting on the mission’s logistics. Shen Changlang’s eyes were wide, and he spoke with an air of incredulity. “If I take only half a unit, it will be far from enough!”
Yan Yan looked up and caught sight of Ruan Jinyu entering behind Shen Changlang. His eyes lingered on the Preceptor for a moment before he turned back to Shen, flatly dismissing his concerns. “It is merely a hunt on the royal grounds. If your entire division leaves, the palace will be left without protection.”
Ruan Jinyu, having been present for only a few moments, had already pieced together the conflict. Tomorrow was the grand imperial hunt. It was a massive affair; not only would the Emperor attend, but the guest list was filled with high-ranking officials and members of the royal family. Such a high-profile event naturally required significant manpower.
The Emperor had assigned the task to Shen Changlang, yet now he was undermining his Commander. Shen wanted to deploy all eight hundred of his elite soldiers, but Yan Yan only permitted half.
The Emperor’s move was easy enough to understand. The palace was desperately short on trusted men, and the primary goal of this hunt was recruitment. With so few troops available, they had to be managed with extreme caution. This left Shen Changlang in a bind.
His task was difficult enough as it was, and losing half his force made it nearly impossible. If anything happened to the royals while they were in the outskirts, the blame would fall squarely on his shoulders as Commander of the Imperial Guards. He could not fulfill the mission safely, yet he could not defy an imperial command. He was trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Ruan Jinyu understood the logic of both sides, but he found it hard to believe that Yan Yan seemingly valued the empty palace grounds over the physical safety of the imperial procession. This was the root of the issue. Shen Changlang had managed every detail of this hunt from the start; it was too late to hand it over to someone else now.
Growing increasingly frustrated with the Sovereign, Shen Changlang finally burst out, “Your Majesty! I only have eight hundred men in my unit. The scale of the hunt has always been this large! Even if my entire division leaves, the provost still has his guards within the palace. Why must we go to this extreme?!”
Shen’s shout was so sudden that Ruan Jinyu jumped, nearly breaking into a cold sweat. He stood as still as possible, head bowed, trying to make himself invisible. One would expect any ruler to fly into a rage at such a tone.
Ruan Jinyu stared at the floor, waiting for the blow. Instead, a low, dark voice drifted out: “I said: there is no need.”
The four words were spoken without any particular flourish or fluctuation in tone, yet the underlying authority was as sharp as a blade held to Shen Changlang’s throat. A sudden silence fell over the room. Ruan Jinyu blinked, sensing something was off. He shifted his gaze slightly to investigate.
What is wrong? Why is the Emperor looking at me like that?
Even if the Sovereign was angry, he should be staring at the man who had just shouted at him! Ruan Jinyu thought he was seeing things. He took another peek. He was certain: Yan Yan was looking directly at him.
Why me? He ran through the possibilities in his mind before settling on one phrase: “Imperial Preceptor.” He was the Teacher; he was supposed to solve the Sovereign’s problems. Yan Yan wanted him to speak.
Though Ruan Jinyu didn’t fully agree with Yan Yan’s decision, he spoke up without hesitation, his voice solemn. “The Commander is truly dedicated to his duty. However, it is also true that the palace is currently under-manned. Since this is an unavoidable necessity, perhaps the Commander could simply tighten the ranks and do his best within these constraints.”
Given Yan Yan’s terrifyingly firm stance, Shen Changlang knew he couldn’t openly defy him any longer, regardless of his stubbornness. Yet he couldn’t accept the risk either. When the Preceptor spoke, Shen gave a sudden laugh. He lowered his posture, his back losing its rigidness as he turned slightly toward Ruan Jinyu.
“The Preceptor has a way with words,” Shen said. “I agree with the logic, and of course, I would never dare to defy His Majesty’s decree. But perhaps the Preceptor can understand… as a leader, I dare not allow any mistakes.”
The moment Shen laughed before speaking, Ruan Jinyu knew trouble was coming. Sure enough, Shen Changlang was signaling for a guarantee. Ruan Jinyu pursed his lips and instinctively looked at the Emperor. Yan Yan was watching him with total composure. Ruan Jinyu quickly looked away, knowing he had to step up.
“Your Majesty,” he said after a silent moment. “This servant was ordered to assist Commander Shen with the affairs of the hunting trip. If any mishap occurs during tomorrow’s outing, I shall also take responsibility.”
The conflict was finally resolved. The relationship between ruler and subject was smoothed over, and the Emperor’s plan was pushed forward. Shen Changlang was the first to leave the hall.
Ruan Jinyu remained, assuming the Emperor still had business for him. Yan Yan hadn’t picked up a brush or a book all day; he was currently leaning his elbow on the desk, his hand supporting his chin in a languid pose. Ruan Jinyu stood before him with his hands folded. He felt a sudden wave of dizziness, but his face remained a mask of calm.
A moment later, a slow, satisfied laugh reached his ears.
“Does Teacher blame me?” Yan Yan asked. “For putting you in such a precarious position?”
He was referring to Ruan Jinyu’s promise to Shen Changlang. Now, Ruan Jinyu and Shen were joined at the hip; if anything went wrong tomorrow, the Preceptor would be the first to face the consequences.
Ruan Jinyu’s internal turmoil was great, but none of it showed on his face. He curled his lips into a faint smile. He had intended to offer some diplomatic pleasantries, but a sudden spike of pain in his head forced him to condense his response to two words: “I am willing.”
Yan Yan noticed nothing wrong. “Teacher may rest easy. I will not let anything happen to you.”
In truth, the moment Yan Yan had looked at him while Shen was arguing, Ruan Jinyu knew why he had been summoned. He was the Sovereign’s pawn and his sword. As long as he remained a useful piece on the board, Yan Yan wouldn’t discard him unless absolutely necessary. Ruan Jinyu wasn’t worried; as long as he had the Emperor’s favor, no disaster could truly kill him.
His mind was clear, yet the pain in his head had become unbearable, and he couldn’t maintain his facade much longer. He quickly sought an excuse. “I thank Your Majesty. This servant wishes to return to the side hall.”
The Emperor’s gaze did not leave the Preceptor until he had disappeared from the room. As Eunuch Hong En stepped forward to pour tea, Yan Yan asked abruptly, “Hong En, did you notice anything different about the Preceptor as he left?”
Hong En paused, the teapot in mid-air. He glanced at the empty doorway and thought back. “If I may be so bold… the Preceptor’s brow seemed slightly furrowed before he departed, and he looked a bit dazed.”
Yan Yan lowered his gaze. He spoke so softly it was almost as if he were talking to himself. “Is he… angry with me for this?”
Hong En didn’t hear him clearly and dared not speak. He remained bowed until the Emperor dismissed him.
As Ruan Jinyu exited the hall, he found Shen Changlang waiting for him. The Commander fell into step beside him. Shen walked with his hands clasped behind him, his posture somewhat irreverent. “The Preceptor has truly opened my eyes today.”
Ruan Jinyu’s headache was now a pulsing, rhythmic throb—the flare-up of an old ailment. Shen Changlang’s voice sounded like the buzzing of a mosquito. He squinted against the light and glanced sideways. “Not as much as the Commander.”
Shen Changlang was not a man of subtle temperament. Hearing what sounded like a mocking retort, he let out a scoff. “What do you mean by that? This had nothing to do with you in the first place. You’re the one who jumped in to take the heat; why blame me now?”
The louder Shen spoke, the worse the pain became. The sunlight felt like needles stabbing into Ruan Jinyu’s eyes; he could barely keep them open. Suddenly, a high-pitched ringing filled his ears. He felt the world tilt. His body reacted before his mind, and he stopped dead in his tracks, closing his eyes to brace himself.
Shen Changlang had been mid-sentence when he realized his companion had stopped. He turned to see the Preceptor swaying on his feet. He panicked, his hands hovering mid-air, unsure whether to touch him.
“Don’t tell me I’ve made you angry enough to die!” Shen blurted out. “Listen, I only wanted a guarantee. I wasn’t trying to save my own skin; I was looking out for the brothers under my command! If the Emperor’s blade comes for me before we even leave, I’ll have died for nothing! I’m innocent!”
Ruan Jinyu heard every word. He opened his eyes, waited for the world to stop spinning, and resumed his walk. He brushed aside Shen Changlang’s hovering hand. Though they had known each other for a while, their paths had rarely crossed before Shen’s promotion. He hadn’t realized the Commander was this… vocal.
“I’m not dead,” Ruan Jinyu said flatly. “Commander Shen, we are still in the palace. Control yourself.”