Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The two were pressed uncomfortably close. Pei Xingjian’s warm breath brushed against Lin Ting’s neck, sending a tickle across his exposed skin.

"Hey? Are you alright?" Lin Ting tried to push him away, only to be pulled even tighter. The solid body pinning him down didn't budge.

"Don't move." The hoarse voice melted into his hot breath. Pei Xingjian’s body temperature began to rise, sweat making his skin sticky. His thin robes did little to conceal, and Lin Ting could even feel the broad contours of his chest.

This was just too weird—two grown men clinging to each other like this, what the hell was this?!

"Hey, hey, can you see? It's me, Lin Ting!" Lin Ting was on the verge of a breakdown. Someone tell him how this man trained to be so strong and heavy? He could barely breathe!

Eunuch Zhao had already ushered everyone out the moment the Emperor pulled Lin Ting over. Now, only the two of them remained.

Their hot breaths mingled. Lin Ting turned his head slightly and saw that Pei Xingjian’s complexion was no longer as ghostly pale as before, though his brows were still slightly furrowed, his eyes shut tight, as though drawing some mysterious "medicine" from him.

The candles in the room guttered low, their wicks drowning in wax. The air seemed to freeze.

After what felt like an eternity—long enough for Lin Ting to think his legs would be crushed—the man atop him finally moved.

Pei Xingjian opened his eyes. The redness had faded, leaving his gaze clear. His eyes flickered slightly as they landed on Lin Ting’s expression of resigned terror.

"Open your eyes." Pei Xingjian gripped Lin Ting’s chin, forcing him to face him.

Lin Ting had no choice but to comply, meeting an intense, searching gaze head-on.

Pei Xingjian studied him carefully. This man had remarkably handsome features—his brows and eyes slightly upturned, his eyelids tinged with a faint red, like a wronged maiden, giving off an air of innocent naivety.

Whoever sent him clearly knew what they were doing.

Lin Ting squirmed under the scrutiny and mumbled, "Can you get up first?"

Only then did Pei Xingjian realize he was still pinning the other man down. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he coolly got up and sat at the other end of the bed.

Finally free of the weight, Lin Ting took a deep breath and slid off the bed. "I'll call Eunuch Zhao."

Pei Xingjian lazily drawled, "Stay."

Lin Ting froze in place again.

Pei Xingjian moved to a nearby chair, casually poured himself a cup of water, and said coolly, "This is the third time. What do you want? I can grant it to you."

Lin Ting’s brows lifted as he studied Pei Xingjian’s expression. Was this a genuine reward, not some long-term scheme?

Pei Xingjian noticed his hesitation and thought, *This man is quite cautious.* His fingers tapped the rim of the cup as he said in a low voice, "I only give rewards once. Think carefully before answering."

Lin Ting swallowed and stepped forward. Honestly, he wanted many things—a place to live (he still had nowhere to live, after all), or for Pei Xingjian to stop scowling all the time (that face was too handsome for constant scowling).

But after some deliberation, he realized one matter was more urgent than all the rest.

He said, "Your Majesty, earlier in the prison, I met Prime Minister Yan."

Pei Xingjian looked at him. "Oh?"

"Prime Minister Yan is past seventy and has been imprisoned for over a month. He's in poor health. Given his lifelong dedication to the people, could you... release him?" Lin Ting finished, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stole a glance at Pei Xingjian’s expression.

He knew his request was abrupt, even presumptuous. Didn't all the stories say those who dared oppose the Emperor ended up dead? But if he had to rack his brains for a way to save the Prime Minister—not only would Pei Xingjian, raised in a world of deceit, easily see through any tricks, but Lin Ting’s modern education might not even come up with anything clever.

So, after much thought, being direct seemed best.

Sure enough, Pei Xingjian’s face went cold instantly.

Since ancient times, excessive private ties between officials were taboo for emperors. Yet Lin Ting, having met Yan Que only once, was already pleading for him—openly currying favor with a minister right before the Emperor’s eyes. If he were sent by schemers, did he not know this was forbidden? Or was it deliberate...

Pei Xingjian considered himself a judge of character, but this man before him was a puzzle.

His voice turned icy. "Do you know why Prime Minister Yan was imprisoned?"

Lin Ting nodded. "Because of the relocation of Luoshi Village."

Pei Xingjian’s tone grew even colder. "Since you know, how dare you speak for him? Aren’t you afraid I’ll drag you out and behead you?"

The moment he finished speaking, a shadow fell before him. Lin Ting stood half an arm’s length away, his lips twitching. "Of course I’m afraid. But Prime Minister Yan is the head of the officials, a role model for scholars. The whole country knows he was imprisoned for defending commoners. Such loyalty is rare in Great Yong."

He spoke with conviction, and the warm light from outside spilled over his features, making his eyes shine.

Pei Xingjian was stunned. No one had ever spoken to him like this. His voice dropped dangerously. "How insolent." Yet he made no move to punish him.

Lin Ting, however, saw nothing wrong. As a modern man, he didn't do courtly formalities—he spoke his mind.

Pei Xingjian took a sip of tea before saying, "Last month, the Imperial Astronomers predicted unprecedented rainfall a month from then. By my calculations, it’s due any day now. If those villagers don’t leave, how many do you think would live through the floods?"

He fixed Lin Ting with a stare. "Disasters bring disease. Luoshi Village is near the capital—it would hit the capital itself first."

"Three days. Get those villagers to move, and I’ll release Yan Que."

Lin Ting bowed, eyes lowered. "I agree."

He would save Prime Minister Yan—and those villagers too.

Pei Xingjian studied him for a moment longer. Relocating Luoshi Village was no easy task—what was this man’s motive? But if he succeeded, he might be worth keeping around a little longer.

Suddenly, an object landed in Lin Ting’s hand. He looked down—a white jade token.

"This token grants you access to the palace. Go."

Lin Ting took the token and left.

Eunuch Zhao was pacing anxiously outside. Spotting Lin Ting, he hurried over. "Ah, Mr. Lin! You scared me half to death! How is His Majesty?"

Lin Ting said, "The Emperor has returned to normal."

Eunuch Zhao immediately summoned the palace attendants inside. Glancing back, he noticed Lin Ting staring at the object in his hand and leaned in for a look—then nearly jumped in shock. "Good heavens! Where did you get this?"

Lin Ting hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. He held up the token—under the sunlight, it gleamed translucent white.

"Is this token really that important?" Though Pei Xingjian had said it granted palace access, Lin Ting assumed it was just an imperial keepsake. After all, there were many ways to enter the palace—a small token couldn’t be that special.

Eunuch Zhao patted his wrist. "This is His Majesty’s personal token. To see it is to see the Emperor himself."

"It’s *that* important?" Lin Ting was stunned. Pei Xingjian had really given him something precious.

Eunuch Zhao saw right through his thoughts and chuckled. "The token only holds power for those other than the Emperor. Usually, it’s given to imperial envoys and returned after their tasks. Since His Majesty entrusted it to you, he must have assigned you something important."

He then bowed respectfully. "I suppose I should address you as Lord Lin now."

"No, no," Lin Ting said, deeply uncomfortable. "Eunuch Zhao, just call me Lin Ting."

Eunuch Zhao smiled and summoned Qingzi to escort Lin Ting out.

The pair stood outside Chonghua Palace, and Qingzi asked, "Lord Lin, do you intend to leave the palace?"

Lin Ting pondered. Was the emperor abandoning him to his fate? Broke as he was, leaving the palace would mean returning to begging on the streets—was that it? If Pei Xingjian caught wind of this, would he see it as an insult to the throne? After all, holding the token was like standing in for the emperor—so did that mean he’d dragged the emperor into beggary too?

As he was lost in thought, footsteps rushed up behind him, shouting, "Lord Lin! Lord Lin!"

Lin Ting turned to see Zhao Dehai rushing over. "His Majesty, knowing you’re new to the capital and without lodgings, has arranged a side chamber in Xiangning Palace for you."

"Xiangning Palace?"

Zhao Dehai flicked his horsetail whisk and smiled. "That is His Majesty's own residence."

So he was being kept under the emperor’s thumb?

After delivering the message, Zhao Dehai turned and reentered the palace.

Qingzi asked again, "Lord Lin, shall we head to Xiangning Palace first?"

Lin Ting scratched his chin. "No, take me to the prison first."

***

Upon reentering the prison, Lin Ting was immediately hit by the damp, chilly air. He shivered, picking his way down the slick steps, where the guards stood at attention, waiting.

A few hours ago, he’d been a convict—now he was some kind of imperial big shot. The guards, who’d never seen anyone pull off a stunt like this, stared at Lin Ting like he was a miracle.

"Lord Lin, how may we serve you?" the head jailer stepped forward.

Lin Ting said, "Take me to Prime Minister Yan's cell."

"At once..."

When Yan Que saw Lin Ting again, he could hardly conceal his shock. His beard quivered as he exclaimed, "You—how—?"

Lin Ting waved the jailers away, crouched down, and pulled the token from his pocket, handing it over. "I talked the emperor around. He’ll free you—if the villagers clear out in three days."

Yan Que’s hands shook when he saw the token. He jabbed a finger at it. "How’d you swing that?" Gripping the bars, he leaned closer and suddenly caught a faint, medicinal scent—light and elusive. A wild rumor crossed his mind—was there truth to it?

Unable to contain his excitement, Yan Que handed the token back. "Lord Lin, if there is anything you wish to ask, I won’t hold anything back."

Lin Ting nodded in relief. Typical prime minister—sharp enough to read him in a second.

"Prime Minister Yan, please tell me more about the villagers of Luoshi Village." Know your enemy, know yourself—win every battle. He needed to understand why the villagers refused to move before he could devise a solution.

Yan Que’s beard wagged as he spun the tale of Luoshi Village.

Initially, when the villagers learned the court wanted them to relocate into the city, most had agreed. But when officials returned, the villagers suddenly changed their minds, claiming their ancestors had lived there for generations. Leaving meant abandoning their crops and land, causing severe losses to each family. They demanded a thousand taels of silver per person—ostensibly for buying seeds and relocating ancestral graves.

The officials gaped. A thousand taels? In Great Yong, fifty taels kept a family fed for a year.

This wasn’t a demand—it was highway robbery. Moreover, the court had already built better houses for them in the city and allocated fertile farmland, far more productive than the land in Luoshi Village.

Yet no matter how the officials reasoned, the villagers wouldn’t budge, barricading the village to shut the officials out. Out of options, they called in the City Patrol—capital guards—and all hell broke loose.

***

Lin Ting blinked. That was it?

Yan Que tore a strip from his robe and said, "Lord Lin, could you fetch me a brush?"

Lin Ting brought him a jailer's brush.

The prime minister swiftly wrote a few characters on the cloth, wrapped it, and handed it over. "I’m useless in here, but my grandson knows Luoshi Village inside out. Lord Lin may seek him out. If you need a place to crash, this note’ll get you into my house."

Then, to Lin Ting’s shock, Yan Que snapped upright and bowed like a falling tree. "Whatever happens, I owe you for this."

Lin Ting was deeply moved. He’d jumped into this on a whim, haunted by that dream of Yan Que killing himself—the fury, the grief.

Now, he knew his choice had been right. Perhaps he could even fix Great Yong’s broken future—spare it from war and ruin.

Lin Ting returned the bow, tucked the note away, and walked out.