Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Upon receiving the order, the Tianxuan Guards immediately released their hold but maintained their encirclement to prevent Lin Ting’s escape.

Lin Ting felt his embrace wasn’t enough, so he wrapped his arms tightly around the leg, interlocking his fingers for a firmer grip.

This increased the friction, making it impossible for the tyrant to shake him off.

A more forceful tightening sensation came from his thigh. Pei Xingjian, looking down from above, commanded, "Let go."

"No way," Lin Ting refused without a second thought. The room was full of Tianxuan Guards; if he let go, he’d be dragged to the dungeon instantly, likely charged with treason, and his head would roll.

Moreover, being so close to the tyrant, he could see the changes in him, indicating his unique scent was effective. If he played his cards right, he might survive. He wasn’t stupid; between certain death and a slim chance of survival, he’d obviously choose the latter.

In just this short while, the fragrance emanating from Lin Ting grew more intense, like soothing spring water, gently smoothing the tearing meridians, and the pain began to subside.

The scene before him finally cleared. Only then did Pei Xingjian get a full view of the person in front of him.

In an instant, his eyes narrowed. Those Taoist priests were masters of deception, capable of betraying their country for wealth or their own lives—there was nothing they wouldn’t do. He never believed in such convenient coincidences.

Pei Xingjian reached for the sword resting against the bed, its tip twirling a strand of hair at the beggar’s neck before cleanly severing it.

"What’s your name?"

Lin Ting’s mind was flooded with curses. In his panic earlier, he’d forgotten that the tyrant still held a sharp sword. A single flick of the blade, and he wouldn’t even need the Tianxuan Guards to separate his head from his body.

So, what now???

"Psst, His Majesty is asking you a question," Zhao Dehai whispered as a reminder.

He knew the Emperor best. Just moments ago, Pei Xingjian’s eyes had been bloodshot and his thoughts muddled, on the verge of a frenzy. Yet, after being embraced by this beggar, the bloodshot faded from his eyes, and his words regained clarity. It seemed his headache had eased.

Judging by the Emperor’s demeanor, the lives of everyone in the room might still be spared.

Lin Ting’s scalp tingled under the tyrant’s gaze. Why was this man staring at him? There wasn’t a single clean spot on his body—what was there to see? That look was like he was eyeing a piece of meat on a chopping block. Although, he was pretty much in that situation, he still had some backbone, okay? Why should he answer just because the other asked?

A flash of steel, and a prickling sensation spread across his neck.

Wait, he was serious?

"Lin Ting," Lin Ting immediately replied. What was backbone compared to staying alive? That was what mattered most.

The sword hovering at his neck abruptly withdrew, resting on the bed frame beside him, its blade reflecting his disheveled appearance.

Lin Ting glanced at it, then quickly averted his eyes, unable to bear the sight.

So ugly!!!

"Let go," Pei Xingjian repeated.

"No," Lin Ting clung tighter, pressing his upper body against the leg. "If I let go, you’ll kill me."

Pei Xingjian felt a strange warmth spreading from his thigh, a sensation he was utterly unaccustomed to. But his leg was held in a death grip, unable to move.

It seemed this beggar was terrified of death.

Fine. This person might still be useful. He could keep him around for further observation.

"I won’t kill you. Let go first."

Lin Ting looked up suspiciously. With so many people in the room, everyone had heard. Logically, an emperor’s word was law, but that applied to ordinary emperors. For this extraordinary emperor—he’d better keep holding on.

Suddenly, his chin was seized again, forcing Lin Ting to look up and meet the tyrant’s gaze. The tyrant’s voice was clearly tinged with anger: "Let go, and you live. Don’t, and I’ll kill you with one stroke."

If he wanted him to let go, he could have just said it nicely! Did he have to resort to threats like this? He wasn’t an unreasonable person.

Lin Ting truly didn’t want the cold sword to be at his neck again, to feel that sensation of life draining away. He obediently let go.

Then, he watched as the tyrant lay down comfortably on the bed.

"Give me your hands," Pei Xingjian commanded.

Lin Ting extended his hands again, and suddenly the tyrant reached out, pulled his hands to his own wrist, and then remained still.

A eunuch stepped forward to draw the bed curtains, the heavy fabric brushing against Lin Ting’s arm, concealing the scene within.

Lin Ting: ??? Wait, so he was just supposed to sit on the floor like this?

The pulse beneath his fingers was strong and steady, the wristbone prominent, digging into his knuckles. He tried to subtly pull his hand away, but the slightest movement drew a warning from behind the curtains: "Hmm?"

Lin Ting froze.

The tyrant held his life in his hands, figuratively. No matter how unwilling he was, he had no choice but to obey.

Pei Xingjian felt the fragrance seeping into his mind, his thoughts churning.

Hah. He wondered which treacherous official had orchestrated this.

Lin Ting waited and waited. The incense before him burned lower, his palms growing sore, until finally, movement came from the bed. Pei Xingjian pushed his hands away and sat up, the curtains still obscuring most of him.

"Your Majesty, are you feeling better?" Zhao Dehai immediately came over to ask.

A corner of the bed curtain lifted, revealing Pei Xingjian’s enigmatic smile, sending shivers down Lin Ting’s spine.

"This ‘medicine’ is truly remarkable," the man on the bed remarked, a slight curl to his lips.

Lin Ting’s heart leapt. Did that mean he would be spared?

Then, from above, he heard: "Lock him in the east wing."

Lin Ting’s eyes widened. Was this biting the hand that fed him? This was definitely biting the hand that fed him, wasn’t it?

Zhao Dehai quickly added, "Your Majesty, what about Imperial Physician Wei—"

Imperial Physician Wei was already on the verge of fainting from kneeling. He dared not make a sound, terrified that the Emperor might execute him on the spot if displeased.

Now that the tormenting pain had temporarily subsided, Pei Xingjian was in a much better mood. He glanced at the white-robed figure curled up by the bed, tapped his finger on the wooden frame of the bed, and said, "Dismissed."

"Dismissed," not "take him away"—a single word, but the meaning was entirely different.

Zhao Dehai brightened. The Emperor meant to spare the imperial physician. Imperial Physician Wei was truly fortunate; at the eleventh hour, a beggar had saved his life.

-

Lin Ting was pulled out the main gate, two Tianxuan Guards, one on each side, dragging him towards another path.

He had no idea what the Tianxuan Guards ate to grow so strong; each of them had immense strength, gripping his wrists like iron shackles, pressing painfully into his skin.

"Brothers, you’re hurting my hands. Could you loosen up a bit? I’ll follow you," Lin Ting said after being forced along for a few steps, the pain becoming unbearable.

Seeing that the two remained expressionless, as if they hadn’t heard him, he tried again, "You’re so skilled in martial arts, and I know nothing. I definitely won’t run. Can’t I just follow obediently?"

The two Tianxuan Guards looked over and noticed a distinct red mark, freshly formed, around Lin Ting's wrist. Though his face and clothes were dirty, his hands were soft and delicate-skinned, and despite some mud, his bones were slender and more aesthetically pleasing than those of any prince or noble they had seen. Were it not for his attire, it would be hard to associate the person before them with a beggar.

One of them said, "This is the Emperor's order."

Meaning, no exceptions.

But their grip loosened slightly.

Lin Ting was locked inside the east wing. As the two wooden doors closed behind him, the room plunged into sudden darkness.

He immediately turned and rushed to the door, pounding on it. "What are you doing? I need food! I need a bath! Open the door!"

A voice came from outside—Zhuo’s, a Tianxuan Guard. "Hot water and meals have already been arranged. Please be patient, sir." After that, no matter how much Lin Ting pounded, there was no further response.

His hands ached from pounding, but there was no further sound from outside. Exhausted, he finally gave up, his steps unsteady as he returned to sit on the chair, rolling up his sleeve to inspect the red marks on his wrist.

He didn’t consider his skin particularly delicate, nor his healing slow. He’d suffered many injuries growing up, yet none had left scars. So, he was certain the marks weren’t his fault—those two Tianxuan Guards must have gripped him too hard, failing to control their strength. The pain had been excruciating the entire way here.

Ancient martial artists indeed possessed much greater strength than ordinary people, which was necessary to better protect the Emperor. After all, the Emperor was the nation’s top treasure, constantly at risk of assassination wherever he went. As the Emperor’s guards, they needed robust physiques and strength, and he understood that.

However, if he ever got close to the Emperor, he would still file a complaint.

After rubbing his wrists repeatedly, Lin Ting finally felt less irritated. Yet, he still felt uncomfortable all over. First, he hadn’t bathed in two days, and he could smell the mud on himself. Second, he had only eaten a steamed pork bun that morning, which barely staved off hunger for an hour. Now, he was so hungry his stomach was practically glued to his back.

With a lifeless expression, he stared at the door.

A moment later, there was movement at the door.

First, the familiar voice of a Tianxuan Guard: "Imperial Physician Wei." Then the door opened, sunlight streaming in as Imperial Physician Wei entered, holding a food box like a god descending to earth. At that moment, Lin Ting thought the man looked incredibly handsome.

Wei An stepped inside with the food box, meeting Lin Ting’s eager gaze before pausing briefly. He walked to the table and laid out a simple meal of one meat dish, one vegetable dish, and a soup. "I heard Mr. Lin hadn’t eaten in two days. My mother ran a restaurant, so I learned a few dishes growing up. I hope they suit your taste."

Lin Ting scrambled up, first washing his hands in a nearby bronze basin, then grabbing his chopsticks and digging in.

At this point, even plain steamed buns would have tasted like delicacies to him.

"Perfect, perfect! Delicious! Imperial Physician Wei, you have excellent culinary skills!" Lin Ting gave a thumbs-up.

Wei An smiled, then added, "On my way from the kitchen, I saw the palace servants heating water—likely for you, sir."

Lin Ting nodded, acknowledging him, and continued to eat in silence.

After finishing a bowl of rice, Lin Ting leaned back, patting his stomach, then slowly asked, "How’s your injury, Imperial Physician Wei?" Earlier, when he had been by the bed, he noticed a long cut on Wei An’s neck from a sword blade.

Not all the blood on that blade had belonged to Pei Xingjian.

At this, Imperial Physician Wei suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud, startling Lin Ting into hiccuping several times.

"Wei An thanks Mr. Lin for saving his life. If not for Mr. Lin today, I would surely be headless by now, unable to see the midday sun."

"No, no, no!" Lin Ting waved his hands, going over to help Wei An up. He didn’t even know how long he himself would live; he might lose his own head in a few days and need someone to collect his corpse.

"If you really want to thank me, how about this: tell me about the current personnel structure around the Emperor."

To do a good job, one must first sharpen one's tools. To survive, he definitely needed to understand the complex interpersonal relationships within the palace.

He had never been good at socializing; this was truly putting him in a difficult position.

"Yes, yes." Wei An stood up, wiping his tears. The first lesson for an imperial physician entering the palace was to memorize the various relationships within the palace. This was their life-saving skill. Otherwise, like during the late Emperor’s reign, when the harem relationships were complex, and if a concubine or prince had an accident, a wave of imperial physicians would always be implicated. Most imperial physicians didn’t even know how they died.

At that time, the Imperial Physician Bureau had extremely high personnel turnover, to the point where, in the later stages, there were almost no imperial physicians available.

"The current Emperor was born to a palace maid favored by the late Emperor..."

After listening to Wei An for a long time, Lin Ting had a rough understanding of the relationships within the palace.

The late Emperor had nine sons. Pei Xingjian, born to a lowly palace maid, was the least favored. At the age of twelve, he witnessed his birth mother fall into a well and die, then coincidentally met the Grand Tutor of the time. He was subsequently taken out of the Cold Palace by the Emperor and tutored by the Grand Tutor.

Pei Xingjian was intelligent and physically capable, a top-tier genius in both academics and martial arts. By the age of sixteen, he was able to don armor and fight on the battlefield, spending over a decade enduring hardships outside, and single-handedly reclaiming the lost territories on the borders of Great Yong.

Later, when the late Emperor became frail, and the nine princes vied for the throne, Pei Xingjian was poisoned and barely survived. Although he was eventually saved, he was left with an incurable headache.

The light in the room shifted to another side, and the area directly facing the door became dark.

These were royal secrets—things ordinary people dared not speak. Wei An had only heard them from his colleagues in the Imperial Physician Bureau after entering the palace, who had specifically warned him that these were "indoor words," only for them to understand the Emperor’s illness. Outside, they were to pretend they knew nothing.

Wei An lowered his voice; two Tianxuan Guards were still standing outside. They couldn’t let them overhear, or if they reported it to the Emperor, who knew what kind of bloody storm would ensue.

"By then, the late Emperor had only this one prince left. Barring accidents, he was the only one who could inherit the throne, but he suffered from headaches. Imperial physicians and ministers searched the entire world for doctors for years, but saw no effect. It was only last month that a Taoist came, claiming that a person with a unique fragrance from the southwest was the cure. That’s why everyone came here."

Lin Ting listened to an extremely complex piece of gossip, clicking his tongue. "The Emperor believes this?"

"His Majesty has never revered ghosts or gods since childhood, so he certainly doesn’t believe it. I heard it was the Empress Dowager who forced him, to give an explanation to the world, that he came here."

Lin Ting muttered to himself: Not for the Empress Dowager, but for the world. This tyrant’s relationship with the Empress Dowager was probably not peaceful either.

Lin Ting put the bowls back into the food box and returned it to Wei An. "Thank you, Imperial Physician Wei."

Wei An smiled. "No need to thank me, Mr. Lin. If you ever need my help in the future, just ask." He left with the food box.

No sooner had he left than several eunuchs entered, carrying hot water. The lead eunuch respectfully said, "My name is Qingzi, and I will attend to Mr. Lin’s bathing." As he spoke, he moved to undress Lin Ting.

Lin Ting stepped back a few paces and said, "No need, no need. I can wash myself." He wasn’t from ancient times, nor did he have an exhibitionist tendency. How could he possibly bathe comfortably with others attending to him?

After his repeated refusals, Qingzi, seeing his determination, could only adjust the water temperature, lay out a set of clean clothes, and then leave with his men.

-

In the Azure Dome Pavilion, Pei Xingjian sat on a pearwood chair. Zhao Dehai approached with a stack of memorials. Seeing the Emperor rub his brow, he advised, "Your Majesty, please rest for a while."

Pei Xingjian didn’t even look up, merely waving his hand, signaling Zhao Dehai to leave. Zhao Dehai sighed and turned to stand five paces away. The Emperor disliked anyone being too close when he was reviewing memorials; it would disturb him.

Zhuo’s voice came from outside. Pei Xingjian put down the memorial and allowed him to enter.

Zhuo entered and presented a memorial.

"Your humble servants investigated Lin Ting’s appearance on Linshui Street. He suddenly appeared there yesterday; no one had ever seen him before."

A subtle, elegant fragrance filled the room, the kind the Emperor only burned when in a good mood. Pei Xingjian, seated on the main throne, held the memorial in one hand. It recorded everyone Lin Ting had met since yesterday: not many—just three people, and a few yamen constables.

His background seemed simple, so simple that it was hard to find anything unusual about him.

Pei Xingjian wasn’t surprised. Since this was specially prepared for him, his background must have been thoroughly cleaned. He showed no expression upon hearing Zhuo’s report, instead asking about another matter: "How is the capital?"

Zhuo said, "The Empress Dowager met the Marquis of Anding two days ago."

"She moves quite fast." Pei Xingjian stood up. "Continue to watch them. Lift the restrictions on Lin Ting and allow him to move freely within the courtyard."

Zhao Dehai acknowledged and immediately rushed to the east wing to deliver the news to Lin Ting.

"Really?" Happiness came too suddenly. Lin Ting couldn’t believe his ears and asked again, "I can really move freely within the courtyard?"

Zhao Dehai smiled, thinking that Mr. Lin still had a childlike heart, unable to hide the excitement in his eyes at the prospect of going out.

"Indeed. Not only can you move about freely, but if you’re hungry and want something to eat, you can go to the kitchen and order it yourself. These are all His Majesty’s commands."

After seeing Zhao Dehai off and personally watching the Tianxuan Guards leave the doorway, Lin Ting immediately turned and pulled out a stack of banknotes from under the bed—these were what the imperial physician had insisted on giving him before leaving. As they say, saving a life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda, so taking some money was only reasonable.

Stuffing the money into his clothes, he immediately headed to the backyard.

He had already asked earlier—the palace servants in the kitchen had to worry about whether this dish had too much oil or that one had too much salt, which was nowhere near as satisfying as eating outside.

Besides, what was the point of just moving around in the courtyard? Once he climbed over the wall, the sky would be his limit—whether indulging in delicacies or traveling across nations, that was true freedom.