In the silent world encircled by red walls and dark tiles, Pei Zhuo pressed his fingertips against the cloud patterns on the bow’s tail, playing along as a cover for Nan Rongchen. “Your Majesty, my life is truly in your hands now.”
Though he knew very well that he did not possess much knowledge regarding court affairs, he still had some self-awareness: for the current Chief Grand Counselor and Prince Xiang to come together to corner someone inside the Son of Heaven’s bedchamber, it was impossible for them to be doing so solely for the sake of a guilty commoner who was supposedly ruining the country.
Most likely, it had something to do with that factional strife.
Even though his life was being treated as a chip for amusement, the hatred meter above Pei Zhuo’s head still showed no signs of making any major moves. At that moment, Nan Rongchen genuinely wanted to shoot an arrow at him just to see what kind of effect it would have.
Yet Pei Zhuo was still useful after all, and Nan Rongchen couldn’t be bothered to trigger the system into malfunctioning and penalizing him just over killing one Pei Zhuo. Tossing the bow back to Pei Zhuo, he chose to deal with the immediate trouble first. “Earlier, I heard Grand Counselor Zhou cough a few times. With the winter chill not yet gone, you must take good care of your health.”
Leaning on his dragon-headed cane, Zhou Yanzhi straightened up. His eyes were turbid, yet they lacked none of their usual shrewdness and majesty. Right now, they still carried the earnest concern of an elder advising a junior. “Your Majesty has not attended the morning court for a whole month. This old subject knows Your Majesty has not been slack, but you must still distinguish between priorities and minor details, placing the overall situation above all else.”
“The state cannot go a single day without a ruler.”
This was a subtle way of saying that he had the leisure and energy to handle a trivial case at the Dali Temple, yet he completely disregarded the major affairs of the court.
As the sovereign of a nation, refusing to attend the early court truly made him deserving of contempt, but he had his own hidden difficulties. Wasn’t he deliberately leaving room for the male protagonist to step in early, attend the court, and gain some practical experience?
Seeing that Nan Rongchengyu’s hatred meter had indeed risen by a few notches, how could a protagonist who was well-versed in the plot possibly tolerate things falling out of his control? Nan Rongchen spoke indifferently. “Grand Counselor Zhou is right. To accomplish great undertakings, the right time, the right place, and harmonious human relations are all indispensable. With Prince Xiang and Grand Counselor Zhou in the court, I have nothing to worry about. After much thought, I can only take advantage of my free time to worry about heavenly timing.”
Nan Rongchengyu followed his usual flawless etiquette, leaving not a single opening for criticism. He bowed with cupped hands, his lowered gaze shifting slightly to land on the cloud-patterned black boots upon the steps. The warm, soft sunlight cast a glow over them, making the patch of fair skin exposed above the hem clearly visible, adding an inexplicable air of protesting too much.
Did this older brother of his really go to the frontier battlefield to suffer the wind, sun, and sand? How could he possibly be this fair?
He caught the underlying threat in Nan Rongchen’s words, realizing that he might not easily be able to leave the palace today, yet he felt not a shred of fear. “As long as it benefits the great cause, this subject is willing to be driven at Your Majesty’s command.”
Truly his good younger brother who understood the greater righteousness, Nan Rongchen put on an approving expression. “Very well then. I came out in such a rush, only remembering to bring the bow while forgetting the arrows. Prince Xiang, go with the Siling to Dengque Terrace and wait there.”
Nan Rongchengyu had not anticipated that Nan Rongchen wasn’t joking. Was he actually going to gamble with him over Pei Zhuo’s life?
If they really played that game, with Nan Rongchen wagering Pei Zhuo’s life, he would likely have to bet something of equal value, and the terms would still be dictated solely by Nan Rongchen, the Son of Heaven.
On one hand, he was furious that the villain Nan Rongchen kept disrupting the plot; on the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel an uncontrollable, spine-tingling thrill of anticipation for the surprises he was about to face. “This subject obeys.”
Leaning on his dragon-headed cane once more, Zhou Yanzhi bowed, making it clear that he intended to stay out of the dispute between the Son of Heaven and Prince Xiang, at least on the surface. “This subject implores Your Majesty to soon return to court to listen to government affairs.”
In the script of a fatuous ruler, those words listening to government affairs temporarily did not exist. What did the laborious tasks that a protagonist ought to do have to do with him?
Nan Rongchen reached out, placing his hand upon the folded forearm beneath Pei Zhuo’s green robes, and sincerely found an excuse. “According to the precedents of the late emperor, the morning court is set for the Mao hour. My old injuries have not fully healed, and I cannot wake up this early. Surely we cannot alter the regulations established by the late emperor simply because of this.”
“After much deliberation, I simply won’t go. Left and right, Prince Xiang and Grand Counselor Zhou are in the court, and Prince Su is also a capable talent; the court can hardly be said to be without a master.” The moment before, Nan Rongchen’s tone had been one of negotiation; the next, he reined in his smile. “This is an imperial decree. Those who resist shall be beheaded.”
Why hadn’t he made good use of the phrase imperial decree to properly experience its utility in his past life? It could have saved him quite a bit of trouble. Compared to that, what did a few remarks from the people of the world even matter?
The moment the Son of Heaven spoke those words, the courtyard full of kneeling people collectively kowtowed, speaking in unison. “This subject dares not.”
Looking back through two hundred years of history, their sovereign was probably the first to skip a morning court meeting simply because he was too tired to get up.
A ruler’s heart was always difficult to fathom, let alone the one standing before them. The minds of several officials behind Zhou Yanzhi spun through countless twists and turns, yet not a single one dared step forward to request leave. The reason was quite simple: if they were to simply walk away now, Prince Xiang might not escape with his life intact.
Since ancient times, sibling bloodshed within the imperial family was hardly a rare occurrence, and the motive behind fratricide usually followed a discernible pattern.
Yet in recent years, Prince Xiang had always behaved with propriety. Of course, they hadn’t yet seen any talent for stoking chaos in Prince Xiang either. Why, then, would the ruler suddenly want to make a move against Prince Xiang today?
Even if he wanted to purge political rivals and engage in factionalism, shouldn’t he start with Prince Su, whose every action and move screamed wolfish ambition?
Seeing that the courtyard full of people showed no intention of leaving, Nan Rongchen considerately found something for them to do. “If you all feel that having me attend the morning court is more critical than the late emperor’s old regulations, my lords might as well go to the Qinzheng Hall to discuss how the morning court can be pushed back by a few hours without harming my reputation.”
Was that the point? The ministers kneeling outside the hall had by now completely abandoned any thoughts of using admonishments to drive the ruler away from flatterers in order to win a reputation in history books as a loyal, upright official. They wished they could turn back the clock to the moment they left the court and shower themselves with curses all the way back to their own estates. “This subject is terrified.”
Nan Rongchen cast another glance at the hatred bars hovering above the heads of the Siling and Nan Rongchengyu. “You need not be terrified; feel free to leave the palace. It is not like I am going to eat Prince Xiang while you are away.”
“Especially Grand Counselor Zhou. You are advanced in years and serve as a pillar of our dynasty. The daily affairs of the Secretariat are already burdensome enough; you would do well to set your mind at ease and ponder fewer matters.”
“Otherwise, should Grand Counselor Zhou fall ill, the foundations of Linyue would have nothing to rely on except Prince Su and Prince Xiang.”
With things laid out this plainly, it seemed Nan Rongchen had no intention of letting the matter rest easily today. Nan Rongchengyu was simply too filled with eager anticipation: much like a stagnant pond whose surface seemed to go on forever, suddenly a lively, jumping carp appeared within it, bright and eye-catching enough to make anyone look twice.
Besides, no matter how much the fish thrashed, it could never bite him, someone standing outside the pond.
Apart from anything connected to Nan Rongchen, the rest of the plotlines had not a single error so far.
Just playing around; it wouldn’t affect his ultimate ending as the victorious protagonist.
He cupped his hands toward Zhou Yanzhi. “Royal Brother is right. Early spring winds are chilly; Grand Counselor Zhou would do well to return first with the other ministers, lest Your Majesty harbor further misunderstandings.”
For the second time, the ministers revised their opinion of Nan Rongchengyu, that quiet, brooding lump of wood. To be able to keep his composure and wits about him under such circumstances took a fair bit of grit, the last time they had seen that was during the grain-procuring crisis.
Zhou Yanzhi understood this student of his, who was half a disciple to him, fairly well. He knew the prince wouldn’t openly and brazenly execute his own flesh and blood. He cast a sideways glance at the Siling. “This old subject takes his leave.”
Since the core pillar, Grand Counselor Zhou, had said as much, the ministers exchanged glances several times before raising their cupped hands in farewell. “The fraternal affection between Your Majesty and Prince Xiang is known throughout the world; this subject and the others dare not carp. We came here today solely out of concern for Your Majesty’s dragon constitution.”
The Siling acted as though he hadn’t noticed the warning glint in Zhou Yanzhi’s parting look. After Zhou Yanzhi departed, he stepped to Nan Rongchengyu’s side and cupped his hands. “This subject awaits orders at Dengque Terrace.”
When he first entered Shangjing and chose to throw his lot in with the Empress Dowager’s faction, it was simply because he had no other choice: after ascending the throne, the late emperor had used every means, slaughtering and banishing alike, to wipe out all other religious sects, leaving the worship of the Witch God as the sole permitted faith within Linyue’s borders.
Yet Nan Rongchen was the fiercest and most obedient son personally nurtured by the late emperor. Ever since entering the Eastern Palace, year after year he had followed the late emperor in worshiping the Witch God. The Siling had simply assumed Nan Rongchen would be no different from his predecessor.
Yet looking at everything along this path, Nan Rongchen treated the so-called Witch God prophecy as nothing more than a tool to be exploited.
Tales of monsters and spirits could be Witch God prophecies, but they could equally be anything else.
Nan Rongchengyu didn’t spare the Siling even half a glance. Looking at Nan Rongchen’s hand resting over the green robe’s sleeve, he silently tightened his grip on the three fingers raised in salute. Pei Zhuo no longer needed to be kept alive.
Outside the Xuande Gate, past multiple layers of palace walls, two sleek, glossy bay horses steadily pulled a carriage out toward the long street, with Zhou Yanzhi sitting upright inside.
Seated beside him, observing the strict etiquette of a disciple, the Vice-Director of the Secretariat Fang Hong answered respectfully. “This student believes that although the collusion between Zhao Jingyuan and Wang Wen will arouse Your Majesty’s suspicions, this matter implicates the Secretariat, the Imperial Guard, the Dali Temple, and even the Censorate.”
“It would be better to follow Master Xiao’s suggestion and simply feign ignorance. If the person Your Majesty personally selects to replace Zhao Jingyuan as the Right Chancellor turns out to be someone we can utilize, it would rather be a blessing in disguise.”
“Master enjoys a pristine reputation at court, and countless individuals throughout the capital wish to become Master’s disciples. We can simply select one from among them.”
“Furthermore, Zhao Jingyuan has grown increasingly useless with age, and now he has pulled off such a foolish stunt out of personal grudges. He should have retired long ago.”
Zhou Yanzhi kept his eyes closed, finally nodding to indicate his approval.
“Master, ever since Your Majesty committed self-strangulation in court half a month ago, his actions have been rather unusual.” Fang Hong finished answering his teacher’s question before speaking again. “That Pei Zhuo lost his entire family to the Imperial Guard, yet Your Majesty brought him into the palace. I fear he intends to move against Commander Li and seize the Imperial Guard into his own hands.”
“Could Your Majesty’s actions mean he has discovered something?”
Slowly opening his eyes, Zhou Yanzhi gazed at the embroidered landscape painting hanging within the carriage. “Do not throw yourselves into a panic. When the late emperor was alive, he also laid plots to strip away military power.”
“Li Changyuan is incompetent himself and served up evidence on a silver platter. If Your Majesty couldn’t even seize an opportunity like this, the late emperor’s years of painstaking cultivation would truly be wasted in vain.”
Fang Hong caught the underlying meaning. “This student is instructed.”
Although the Imperial Guard honored its Commander above all else, it also established Left and Right Vice-Commanders; Li Changyuan was not the only one available for use.
“Is Prince Xiang truly safe within the palace?”
Perhaps the wheels of the carriage had rolled over something, causing a sudden jolt. Zhou Yanzhi steadied his posture by pressing down on his dragon-headed cane. “If Prince Xiang cannot handle even this sort of situation, then whether he lives or dies makes little difference. The rest of us ought to simply choose another wise lord to serve.”
After the idlers and hangers-on cleared out of the Zichen Palace, the place finally regained a measure of tranquility. A white-tailed kingfisher, raised in the courtyard of some imperial concubine, flew into the Zichen Palace on the wings of the spring light.
Drawing strength from those two chirping notes, Nan Rongchen stood in the corridor. A few strands of his ink-black hair, falling loosely across his shoulders, were playfully whipped up by the breeze, though he couldn’t be bothered to tend to them. Fishing out the plum blossom dart, which he had preserved from Xie Chen’s attempts, from his sleeve, he gestured vaguely toward the side of Pei Zhuo’s neck with it. “Pei Zhuo, what kind of game do you suppose I should play?”
Pei Zhuo didn’t dodge. For now, he was merely a chess piece that hadn’t officially been placed on the board, held in Nan Rongchen’s grip, ready to be tossed away at a moment’s notice.
The tens of thousands of white bones scattered across the frontier weren’t enough to catch Nan Rongchen’s eye, let alone his own single life and those petty personal vendettas. “This subject will obey whatever Your Majesty decides.”
Nan Rongchen surveyed the small spike of hatred that had risen once again atop Pei Zhuo’s head; this hatred meter seemed to come with a delay. “I merely stirred up two old cases at the Dali Temple, and it was enough to prompt Grand Counselor Zhou and Prince Xiang to make a special trip to the Zichen Palace to offer admonishments, using Minister Pei here as a cover. How utterly troublesome.”
“If I continue to keep Minister Pei around, goodness knows what sort of complications might arise in the future.”
The light reflected off the glazed tiles caught the surface of the plum blossom dart, within which Pei Zhuo glimpsed half of the Son of Heaven’s profile, cold iron and forbidding, separated by a mere half-meter yet feeling as though a natural chasm lay between them.
And Nan Rongchen was speaking to him from beyond that chasm. “It seems keeping Minister Pei around isn’t a very profitable venture. How would you like to set off on your final journey? I’ll grant you your wish.”
Ever since the day he was born, Pei Zhuo had lived an unfettered life day after day, yet Nan Rongchen and his Linyue court had made him taste all the bitter hate of being at the mercy of others. “Your Majesty had best kill me for real today; otherwise, in days to come…”
Seeing the hatred meter above Pei Zhuo’s head shoot up by a massive stretch, surpassing the total accumulated over the previous days, Nan Rongchen twirled the plum blossom dart between his fingertips. Putting strength into his wrist, he let it fly in a single motion.
The sharp blade tore through the air. Pei Zhuo tightened his grip on the golden-feathered bow in his hand; if he died, he died. Either way, Li Changyuan had already earned the sovereign’s suspicion and wouldn’t live long anyway.
When the piercing sound of iron cleaving the air rang beside his ear, he held only a single thought: even if he turned into a vengeful ghost, he would haunt this fatuous ruler Nan Rongchen until he could never attain peace in the afterlife.
Yet that plum blossom dart merely shaved off a few strands of his hair, piercing cleanly through a white-tailed bird flying overhead before disappearing somewhere outside the hall.
It wasn’t that Nan Rongchen had suddenly grown a sudden streak of benevolence; he had simply tired of the game. The amusement derived from manipulating another person’s hatred through imperial power was mundane at best.
From a certain perspective, the Pei Zhuo of this moment was no different from the version of himself trapped within the Witch God Shrine that day. What difference was there between humiliating Pei Zhuo and humiliating oneself?
“Minister Pei possesses guts; I haven’t misjudged you. Have someone pass yesterday’s decree to Helian Yi; he needn’t come to offer thanks.”
“I despise extortion most of all. Minister Pei’s life, I’ll spare it for you.”
Why on earth did he keep listening to the system’s demands about everything? Pei Zhuo’s hatred meter would end right here.
They were people who had had no intersection in the past life; he wasn’t evil enough to reach this extent, nor was he idle enough either.
He symbolically notified the system of this decision.
[System 365: Detected that Pei Zhuo is not a primary character; hatred can still be tallied, but the host is required to facilitate Pei Zhuo in completing a side quest, getting rid of Li Changyuan and joining the protagonist faction.]
[System 365: Furthermore, this requires utilizing the hatred values of the three protagonist faction members who suffered the most severe OOC in the previous timeline, Nan Rongchengyu, Helian Yi, and Xiao Yuanqing, to make up the difference.]
A thin layer of sweat coated Pei Zhuo’s palms as he silently appended the second half of the sentence he hadn’t dared utter aloud: In days to come, all accounts, old and new, will be settled together.
He had also listened to a few teachings from the sage books: an enlightened ruler holds the world in his heart, living and dying for the common people.
Nan Rongchen didn’t look much like an enlightened ruler. Since he had entered this gilded cage of the imperial palace, beyond exacting revenge, he was going to lay his hands on the Son of Heaven as well.
Seeing that Nan Rongchen had swept his sleeves and turned back into the inner hall with a complete lack of interest, Pei Zhuo raised a hand to summon a eunuch attendant. “Go retrieve His Majesty’s plum blossom dart, and take that bird to some remote spot to bury it properly, lest it displease His Majesty.”
Hearing this Grand Eunuch Pei play a guessing game with their ruler for half the day, only for an innocent bird to suffer collateral damage, the eunuch struggled to understand.
Though he didn’t quite grasp it, seeing this aloof beauty whose icy demeanor kept others at arm’s length now wearing a proud, brilliant smile, he finally understood that the sovereign was merely teasing an esteemed favorite. “This servant obeys.”
After dismissing the eunuch, Pei Zhuo lifted the golden-feathered Lingyun bow. The red-gold cloud patterns along its tail gleamed even more brilliantly as he pressed a kiss to the patch of sunlight resting upon them.
Soft, warm, much like the palm that had cupped his eyes that day.
By the time he finished stowing away the golden bow and returned to the inner hall, Nan Rongchen had already secured his hair with the jade belt Pei Zhuo had personally removed earlier. Leaning back in the redwood armchair, he cast aside all formalities of gentlemanly deportment in a relaxed, idle posture, yet his entire person remained forbidding and inviolable.
Stepping forward, Pei Zhuo offered, “Your Majesty spared this subject’s life, and this subject has no way to repay you. Would it please Your Majesty if I were to arrange your hair?”
Nan Rongchen swept a glance over him. Unsure what strange medicine Pei Zhuo had taken today, he couldn’t be bothered to puzzle out whatever hidden thoughts lay beneath that cold expression. “Granted.”
The eunuch sensibly retreated a few steps; this newly arrived favorite truly managed to capture the imperial heart far more than Qi Yan ever had.
Picking up the sandalwood comb from the table, Pei Zhuo gathered those satin-smooth ink-black locks into his palm just as he wished.
During his years wandering abroad, he had frequently mingled in the pleasure quarters alongside his poet friends; naturally, he was no stubborn stone lacking romantic sensibilities, unlike what Li Changyuan had claimed.
Dengque Terrace was also the creation of the current Chief of the Privy Council. Located on the east side of the imperial garden, much like the Fairy Terrace of the temporary palace, it wasn’t a solitary tower.
Although it connected to the outside world through only a single winding path, several pavilions and terraces stretched out in a continuous line, their flying eaves and painted corners overlooking the hazy, rippling waters of the imperial river.
The most striking feature atop the main pavilion was the sculpted dragon along its ridge, its claws outstretched and whiskers dancing as if it were about to leap into the sky.
The Siling and Prince Xiang were already waiting inside the main pavilion. Hearing the chief eunuch’s announcement of “His Majesty has arrived,” they each rose to offer salutes.
The moment the Son of Heaven waved a hand, Pei Zhuo performed his duties as Grand Eunuch to perfection, executing a series of movements without a single flaw. The only shortcoming was the simple fact that he was not a eunuch.
Nan Rongchen found the sight rather novel. Back at the Dali Temple just yesterday, Pei Zhuo had worn the expression of someone who felt that merely mentioning the imperial palace made his mouth dirty. Yet after barely a few hours and having a few strands of hair shorn off by a plum blossom dart, he had completely changed his tune.
To be able to bend this far for the sake of revenge, if he didn’t succeed, who else would?
Discarding palace etiquette entirely, the Siling stepped forward to present a scroll of bamboo slips. “Your Majesty, this is the first divination.”
Nan Rongchen had already settled into the rattan chair in the center of the pavilion, extracting a dark silk handkerchief to wipe the feather arrows in his hand. The arrowhead forged from cold iron caught the sunlight, its murder intent only heightened.
The so-called first divination had merely been an excuse he used the other day to pass the time with the Siling; by now, he had lost interest. “I know. Bring out the second divination; we shouldn’t keep Prince Xiang waiting too long, given how busy he is with state affairs.”
With those words, he looked toward the hatred bar hovering above the Siling’s head, which had already grown significantly, half of it likely due to the few sentences he’d dropped in the Hanyuan Hall that shattered the Siling’s credibility before the protagonist faction.
Now, treating the Witch God whom the Qintian Temple served with undivided devotion for years as a mere plaything right before his eyes should pump that hatred meter up by a few more notches.
At those words, the Siling tightened his grip on the bamboo slips. This was a divination he had spent three days kneeling before the Witch God statue while keeping the eternal lamps burning, even though he didn’t believe in the Witch God at all, viewing it instead as the filthiest and most foolish faith in the world.
This divination had originally been intended to buy the Son of Heaven’s trust, but right now, Nan Rongchen hadn’t even spared it a single glance.
And yet, it suited his purpose precisely.
Nan Rongchen stared in irritation at that motionless hatred bar, which seemed to show subtle signs of slipping downward. Shifting his gaze to the eunuch by his side, he gave a command. “The Siling has worked hard questioning the omens day and night. Prince Xiang’s divination involved blood as a catalyst, go fetch the deer-antler wine infused with blood and bestow it upon the Siling.”
The Qintian Temple prided itself on being a realm detached from worldly affairs, upholding the maxim of entering the world for the sake of the people without being tainted by the mortal dust. From the Siling down to the minor astrologers, everyone adhered to numerous tedious rules and taboos.
A single cup of deer-antler blood wine was enough to shatter two taboos at once; plus, the wine was fiercely pungent and fishy, hardly a pleasant substance, making it the ideal concoction to splash a bit of filth over the Siling.
The young eunuch didn’t dare delay for an instant. Receiving the order, he hurried down Dengque Terrace. The moment he stepped away from the main pavilion, he felt an inexplicable sense of surviving a near-death disaster, gasping for breath. It wasn’t that he lacked courage or was unaccustomed to things; the atmosphere inside that pavilion was simply too bizarre!
Naturally, while the young eunuch went off to fetch the wine, Nan Rongchen had time to kill. Leaning his head back against the rattan chair, he turned his gaze toward Pei Zhuo. “Give those pressure points another massage. Your technique is decent; if you make me comfortable, there will be a reward.”
Stepping forward a few paces, Pei Zhuo positioned himself as the person closest to the Son of Heaven in the entire Dengque Terrace.
His slender, powerful fingers pressed against the sliver of neck exposed above the crimson collar, feeling as though he had finally managed to clutch a piece of worldly jade in his palm. Tracing upward along the smooth, creamy skin, he applied pressure to the acupoint behind the Son of Heaven’s ear.
Say what one might, Pei Zhuo’s technique was genuinely exceptional. Nan Rongchen was still quite young in this lifetime, but because he spent his idle time worrying over too many things, compounded by the endless bowls of medicinal soups forced upon him by the Empress Dowager, he had developed a chronic tendency toward headaches.
This fictional world treated him, the villain, with truly excessive harshness.
Closing his eyes with an air of complete detachment, he let out a soft sigh of relief as Pei Zhuo’s fingertips alternately relaxed and tightened their pressure. Fatuous ruler indulging in pleasure, there was no need to maintain any sort of imperial dignity.
Besides, mistreating the protagonist was part of his job description as a villain anyway.
Seated in a corner of the main pavilion, Nan Rongchengyu maintained a submissive, deferential expression on the outside, but his gaze remained locked onto Nan Rongchen in the rattan chair. He watched as Pei Zhuo’s fingers glided over every inch of skin along that slender throat, a dark urge rising to snap that neck and claim Nan Rongchen entirely for himself, keeping anyone else from so much as touching a fraction of him.
It wasn’t that he valued Nan Rongchen so deeply; it was more akin to how people in the 21st century felt about their favorite figures, if someone touched his partner’s collectible figure, he couldn’t fight them to the death because of the law. But this was ancient times, and Pei Zhuo had truly grown tired of living!
Nan Rongchen was only concerned with his own comfort, yet he felt things lacked a bit of spice. “Waiting like this is dull anyway. Since that divination was cast, the Siling can read it out for me to hear.”
Unexpectedly, when he raised his eyes to check again, the hatred meters above both the Siling and Nan Rongchengyu had ticked up another notch. A stray willow planted unintentionally would cast shade; they must both be out of their minds.
The Siling was also quite adept at putting on a front. Even though his internal hatred meter was shooting up frantically, his face didn’t betray a single flaw. Indeed, he even stepped forward obligingly, blocking Nan Rongchengyu from view entirely. “…Your Majesty holds the Mandate of Heaven; you ought to be the enlightened ruler of Linyue, ushering in eternal peace for ten thousand generations…”
This fictional world seemed terrified that Nan Rongchengyu might suffer even the slightest mishap.
Since the atmosphere had reached this point, naturally he couldn’t just stay idle. Having listened to the divinatory text that screamed the word flattery, Nan Rongchen spoke in a cool, level tone. “I feel this second divination of the Siling’s isn’t worth looking at either.”
“The Witch God exists within the six paths of reincarnation between heaven and earth just like anyone else, no different from me. It would be better to let this golden-feathered arrow of mine decide whether Prince Xiang deserves to be used or killed.”
Such words were exceptionally arrogant. The astrologers and attendants behind the Siling instinctively glanced at him; the ruler’s request for a divination reading was a sham, using the pretext to desecrate the divine while concurrently warning Prince Xiang was the truth!
Nan Rongchengyu naturally caught the underlying message in Nan Rongchen’s words as well. Far from feeling a shred of fear, he felt a surge of comfort precisely because Nan Rongchen finally waved a hand and dismissed that dog Pei Zhuo. Casting a warning glare at Pei Zhuo, he spoke. “Your Majesty, this subject dares to ask: if this subject survives beneath your arrow and proves useful to Your Royal Brother, will Your Royal Brother truly cut down Pei Zhuo?”
“Although this subject spent years languishing among the common folk, I still understand the principle that flatterers ruin the state. I beg Your Royal Brother to distinguish clearly between loyalty and treachery.”
He really was playing the part of the loyal subject devoted to country and sovereign. Nan Rongchen accepted the longbow from Pei Zhuo’s hands, nocking the feather arrow he had personally polished until it gleamed with a biting frost, aiming it squarely at his loyal, life-admonishing good younger brother.
[System 365: Warning! Warning! The host is strictly prohibited from shooting and killing the male protagonist!]
As if right on cue, an Imperial Guard officer strode forward with a sword to report. “Your Majesty, Helian Yi is outside requesting an audience!”