Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The room fell silent. Zhao Dehai slipped out quietly, whispering instructions to his two apprentices guarding the door: "Listen carefully inside. If there’s any movement, summon me at once." The two apprentices chorused, "Yes."

After giving his orders, Zhao Dehai turned and descended the steps. Outside, stars twinkled, and the courtyard’s crabapple trees bloomed profusely. Leaning on his whisk, he took a rare moment to admire the sight.

Inside, Pei Xingjian was already lying on the bed, the bed curtains drawn back. His outstretched arm revealed prominent veins, his palm upturned, exposing his vulnerable wrist. His jet-black hair spilled over the edge of the bed, resting on Lin Ting’s arm.

He turned his head to look at the person seated beside the bed—his most vulnerable spot exposed. If this were an assassin, now would be the perfect opportunity.

Unfortunately, Lin Ting couldn’t hear Pei Xingjian’s thoughts. In fact, he was under immense pressure at the moment.

Question: What does it feel like to be stared at by a tyrant?

Lin Ting’s answer: The ancients spoke true. They say *accompanying a ruler is like accompanying a tiger*. What did this tyrant mean by staring at him like this? Had he still not given up on throwing him into prison? Or was he devising some new method of torture?

He was utterly defenseless, pure and harmless. Did he look like someone who could endure torture?

*Perhaps it would be better to lower the bed curtains. Out of sight, out of mind—better for everyone.*

"What are you thinking?" Pei Xingjian asked, noticing Lin Ting’s eyes shifting.

Lin Ting looked up blankly. "Huh?" *Was the tyrant now unsatisfied with controlling his person and moving on to controlling his thoughts?*

Did he not understand? Pei Xingjian narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing his expression.

The person before him had clear, bright eyes—so clear that Pei Xingjian could see his own reflection in them. His eyes were round and sparkling, like those of the naive fawns he’d hunted before. His lips parted slightly, as if stunned by the question, hesitating to speak.

It made him seem rather foolish.

*Was he playing the fool to catch a tiger, or was he truly simple?*

Pei Xingjian suppressed his emotions and asked again, "Why did you become a beggar? Poor families don’t produce looks like yours."

Lin Ting: *I saw that murderous intent. I became a beggar because of you. If you had just been a decent emperor and not indiscriminately killed innocents, would I have fallen from heaven to the gutter?*

He swallowed and said, "My family was once quite prominent, but then we fell on hard times. With no one left, I had no choice but to beg on the streets."

Pei Xingjian said nothing, his eyes fixed on him. Lin Ting had no doubt that if the tyrant’s gaze could shoot fire, he’d already be riddled with holes.

"Is that so?" Pei Xingjian smiled faintly. "Since you have no family, why not come with me?"

Lin Ting: *Huh? Huh? Huh? Could he still resist?*

Then Pei Xingjian suddenly tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "Unwilling?"

The unspoken threat was clear: if Lin Ting refused, he’d be eliminated.

*What a classic coercion tactic.* Trembling, Lin Ting sat on the ground, head bowed, and whispered, "Willing." *As if.*

Pei Xingjian sneered. *Of course, feigning reluctance, but his ultimate goal was to stay by his side. Very well, I’ll grant his wish. Let’s see what this person truly intends.*

The gentle scent of medicine mingled with the room’s sandalwood, seeping into Pei Xingjian’s mind, gradually soothing his frayed nerves.

Pei Xingjian lay on the bed, eyes closed. The flickering candlelight cast a solemn silence over the room.

Bored, Lin Ting rested his head on the edge of the bed and began studying Pei Xingjian’s hand.

Truly a royal specimen, Pei Xingjian wasn’t just handsome; even his fingers were more refined than most.

Tall as he was, his fingers were long and slender, the bones distinct beneath the skin, almost bloodless. A scab marked his palm—a wound from a blade. He hadn’t even bandaged it, leaving it exposed to heal naturally.

*Score one for tyrannical stereotypes.*

-

Morning light streamed through the lattice. Pei Xingjian opened his eyes to find the room bright with daylight.

He tested moving his head—his mind was clear. After years of suffering from headaches, he hadn’t slept so soundly in ages.

Sitting up, he noticed a figure sprawled beside the bed.

Lin Ting had folded his arms on the edge of the bed, resting his head on them, fast asleep. He seemed to be dreaming, mumbling something incoherent.

A knock came from outside. "Your Majesty, it is already Chenshi. Shall you rise?"

He had slept this long? "Enter."

The door opened, and Zhao Dehai entered with attendants. Seeing His Majesty looking refreshed, even the dark circles under his eyes gone, he beamed. "This lowly one observes Your Majesty in high spirits today—hale, glorious, and resplendent. It seems Mr. Lin’s medicine worked wonders."

Pei Xingjian shot him a glance. "Enough flattery."

Zhao Dehai quickly bowed, smiling obsequiously. "Forgive this uneducated servant for lacking refined words. I’ve defiled Your Majesty's august hearing."

Then he noticed Lin Ting by the bed. "Your Majesty, what of Mr. Lin—"

Before he could finish, Lin Ting opened his eyes. "Morning, Eunuch Zhao." Still groggy, he saw Eunuch Zhao before Pei Xingjian.

Zhao Dehai looked fit to kowtow at this point, grinning as he replied, "Mr. Lin is awake."

Pei Xingjian, now dressed by the attendants, turned to see Lin Ting still dazed. Uncharacteristically patient, he flicked water droplets onto Lin Ting’s face. "Wake up."

Lin Ting jolted, meeting Pei Xingjian’s gaze. The usual gloom and irritability were gone from his brow, replaced by solemn dignity. "Did you sleep your wits away?"

*The heavens, the earth, this bed, this man—why was he in Pei Xingjian’s room?*

*Oh, right. He came to treat him last night. And then? Then he must have just... conked out?*

*No way. Did he really just pass out right by Pei Xingjian’s bed?*

Lin Ting jerked upright, locking eyes with Pei Xingjian. "Did I... fall asleep last night?"

Pei Xingjian wiped his hands with a handkerchief and nodded. "You did. Dead to the world. Couldn’t wake you even if I tried."

Zhao Dehai: ??? His two apprentices had guarded the door all night—they never heard His Majesty call out.

Lin Ting scratched his head awkwardly. *Well... this is a bit awkward.*

"Then... should I leave now?" Lin Ting stood, poised to flee.

"Stop." Pei Xingjian grabbed the back of Lin Ting’s collar and pulled him back, pointing to the prepared breakfast table. "Break your fast first."

*What? Dining with the Emperor?*

Lin Ting ran the calculations. Aside from yesterday’s attempt to escape, he hadn’t done anything to offend the Emperor. *The Emperor wouldn't stoop to poisoning him.* And he was hungry anyway—might as well eat before making his exit.

So he sat down calmly, picking up a bowl and chopsticks to tuck in.

Just then, a Tianxuan Guard entered. "Your Majesty, the carriage is ready. We may depart for the capital."

Lin Ting nearly fumbled his bowl, but Pei Xingjian stopped it with his chopsticks. "Shatter it, and you’ll pay for it."

He wondered if he'd heard wrong: "Go back where?"

Pei Xingjian smiled at him: "Of course, back to the capital. Since you said you’d stay by my side, naturally you’ll come with me."

Lin Ting fell silent.

-

Once breakfast was over, the group set out. The midday sun made for ideal travel weather.

Pei Xingjian climbed into the carriage first, then turned to see Lin Ting about to climb into the one behind. He pulled him back: "And where exactly are you going? Get in here."

The emperor’s carriage was spacious and comfortable, with an assortment of snacks and candied fruits placed in the center—definitely the best option—if the emperor weren’t, well, *him*.

Lin Ting tried to resist. "I’ll just cramp your style in there."

Pei Xingjian: "Won’t be an issue. There’s plenty of room."

Lin Ting: "I get motion sickness. I’ll make a mess you don’t want to see."

"Physician Wei has motion sickness pills ready."

Lin Ting: "I snore when I sleep. I wouldn’t want to disturb you."

Pei Xingjian grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. "You already slept in my room last night. Whether you snore or not, I’d know."

Just then, Zhao Dehai arrived: *Wait—did he just say that out loud?*

Lin Ting’s lips jutted out from the hold, mumbling, "Do I really have to get in?"

Pei Xingjian nodded. "Absolutely."

Lin Ting sighed in resignation. "...Okay."

Pei Xingjian released him and stepped into the carriage. Lin Ting hesitated outside, steadying himself with a few breaths before finally climbing in.

Caihua City was thousands of miles from the capital. Just carriages would be too slow, so they would first head to the port to board a ship, then switch back to carriages near the capital.

The carriage soon entered Riverside Street.

One day away from Riverside Street, yet it felt like years to Lin Ting.

Passing an alley, Pei Xingjian suddenly asked, "Where is your home?"

Lin Ting replied, "My home is very far away." He thought for a moment. "Even farther than Caihua is from the capital."

Pei Xingjian: "So how’d you wind up *here*?"

Lin Ting’s throat went dry. How could he explain? If he said he came from another world to save a tyrant, would they lock him up as a lunatic? Given this tyrant’s paranoia, would he be thrown out of the carriage on the spot?

He picked each word like stepping on ice. "Actually... my home isn’t in Great Yong."

Pei Xingjian tilted his head. "Oh-ho. An enemy spy, are we?"

"*No!* Lin Ting all but flailed his arms. "It’s just... my home is from a place very, very far away. No carriage could *ever* get there."

Pei Xingjian sank back into the cushions, eyes shut.

Inwardly, he mused: Whoever sent this little spy wasn’t exactly the sharpest knife—or perhaps they were counting on him not harming a fool.

Clever, really—whoever sent him. Not only sparing his life but also curing his headaches. Well then, he’d play along until their game became clear.

...

After five days of traveling by boat upstream from Caihua City and switching to a carriage near the capital, they finally entered the city at sunrise.

Outside, a muffled clamor could be heard—like hundreds or thousands of voices blending together from several meters away, none of them clear enough to discern.

Lin Ting was roused by the noise. He opened his eyes and lifted the curtain, only to be stunned by the sight before him.

The streets on both sides were lined with soldiers, each clad in black armor and dark helmets, holding long spears. They stretched along the road, forming a living barricade against the bustling crowd behind them.

Beyond the soldiers lay a thriving street—vendors selling dried fruits, sweet drinks, and pastries packed the area, several times livelier than Linshui Street. Yet, at that moment, all eyes were fixed in their direction.

Lin Ting finally understood why, after passing through the city gates, he had only heard a distant, muddled drone despite the crowds—because the streets were so far away from them!!!

From the carriage, Lin Ting could barely make out blurry figures, faintly distinguishing men from women. As for their facial expressions—he couldn’t see a single one. Not just unclear, but completely invisible, as if faceless figures stood before him. How creepy.

He had once read that in ancient times, certain main thoroughfares in the capital were deliberately built so wide that even arrows couldn’t reach the emperor’s procession. But only now, witnessing it firsthand, did Lin Ting truly feel its staggering scale.

"Cat got your tongue?" Pei Xingjian’s voice came from behind.

Lin Ting muttered, "How wide is this street?"

Pei Xingjian replied, "Zhengyang Street runs straight ahead to Chongzheng Gate. The street is 150 meters wide, with 10 meters reserved on each side for public markets. The central passage is exclusively for the royal procession."

At intervals along the street, overpasses spanned the width, but now, with the royal procession passing, the overpasses had been cleared of people.

Lin Ting was gobsmacked.

After traveling for another hour, they finally saw a towering palace gate, where a group of men stood waiting.

Lin Ting glanced over—green, red, and purple robes, likely officials. At the forefront stood a bejeweled figure. As they drew closer, Lin Ting noticed the person’s face was powdered, though it couldn’t hide the fine wrinkles at the corners of their eyes. As the carriage halted, they stepped forward.

"Your Majesty must be exhausted from the journey."

Inside the carriage, Pei Xingjian lifted the curtain, his gaze sweeping over the officials before settling on the Empress Dowager. He offered a faint smile. "With Your Majesty’s command, how could I dare speak of weariness?"