Chapter 12

Chapter 12

No matter how Lin Ting pressed for answers afterward, the villagers remained tight-lipped, refusing to utter another word about "Mr. Wang."

Seeing that nothing more could be gleaned, Lin Ting and Yan Ji had no choice but to return to the residence.

"Blast it!" Yan Ji slammed his fist on the table. "No wonder all my previous attempts to persuade them fell on deaf ears. There really was someone behind this stirring trouble!"

Lin Ting tossed a piece of rice cake into his mouth and said nonchalantly, "The villagers of Luoshi Village are ordinary folk who’ve barely set foot in a government office their entire lives. Yet now they dare to openly oppose the court? It’d be strange if no one was behind it."

Yan Ji sighed, "A pity we couldn’t find out who’s behind it."

Lin Ting reassured him, "It’s fine. At least we made some progress today. The Emperor has given us a few more days. Let’s rest for now and address this tomorrow." With that, he patted Yan Ji’s shoulder and headed back to his room.

Watching Lin Ting remain so composed, Yan Ji couldn’t help but admire him. *Truly someone bold enough to take on this task—even now, he’s unshaken. I’m older than him, yet compared to him, I’m the one acting like an impetuous youth. How embarrassing!*

-

When Lin Ting woke the next day, he saw dark clouds looming over the capital, thick and heavy, casting an ominous lull.

After breakfast, a servant hurried in to report that a palace eunuch had arrived.

Yan Ji rushed to the gate to receive the visitor—it was Eunuch Qing.

They hadn’t made any effort to hide the fact that Lin Ting was staying at Prime Minister Yan’s residence. It was said that the Tianxuan Guard under the Emperor’s command were omnipresent. Finding someone’s whereabouts didn’t even require deliberate investigation. So trying to conceal it would’ve been pointless—better to be open about it.

But a sudden thought struck Lin Ting: *Even with the Tianxuan Guard’s formidable power, Pei Xingjian still couldn’t escape his fate of a fallen kingdom and a ruined family. A tyrant in the end, beheaded with his head hung on the city walls—how lamentable.*

Eunuch Qing announced, "His Majesty summons Lord Lin to the palace."

Lin Ting was surprised. "This early?"

Could the Emperor’s head ailment have flared up again? He quickly prepared himself and followed Eunuch Qing into the palace.

Inside Chonghua Hall, candlelight danced, and incense filled the air. The palace attendants stood quietly at a respectful distance from the Emperor, the silence broken only by the sound of the Emperor flipping through memorials.

When Lin Ting entered, he saw the Emperor seated behind the imperial desk.

The weather outside was gloomy, the dim light filtering in making the candlelight on the imperial desk all the more pronounced, casting sharp shadows on the Emperor’s arched brows and straight nose.

Today, he wore a bright yellow dragon robe, his hair secured by a golden crown—a rare sight, as he usually dressed more plainly. He must not have changed after the morning court session.

Hearing the footsteps, the Emperor glanced up and motioned idly to the space beside him. "Come here."

Lin Ting obediently approached.

Then the Emperor returned his attention to the memorials, ignoring him completely.

??? Did he summon him just to stand there like an ornamental fixture?

Lin Ting stood for a while. He was close enough that a slight lean forward allowed him to glimpse the open memorials—most were filled with trivialities: formal salutations, descriptions of local scenery, or mentions of some new delicacy the commoners had invented, with offers to send chefs to the capital if the Emperor wished to try it.

But the Emperor indifferently marked a "No" across them, rejecting them outright.

He dispatched these quickly, marking them with a few strokes before setting them aside.

Occasionally, a memorial addressing weighty affairs would slow him down. After reading, he would write notes in the margins. The script of this era differed slightly from modern writing, and Lin Ting couldn’t quite make out the words, so he inclined his head for a better look.

Zhao Dehai, standing nearby, was terrified stiff. *Lord Lin’s audacity is breathtaking! Is this something a subject should casually peek at? His head is practically leaning over His Majesty’s shoulder—good heavens…*

"Ah!" Lin Ting exclaimed as he tilted too far and accidentally bumped into the Emperor’s shoulder. He hastily righted himself and took two steps back, only to meet the Emperor’s penetrating stare. Lin Ting forced an awkward smile. "Apologies, I lost my balance."

"Finished reading?" the Emperor asked suddenly.

Reading what? Lin Ting looked up to see the Emperor fully spread out the memorial in his hands. He tapped it twice with his finger and said coolly, "If you haven’t, I can let you take a closer look."

Zhao Dehai broke out in a cold sweat, frantically signaling Lin Ting with his eyes: *Refuse! Now!!!*

Lin Ting caught the hint. He wasn’t stupid—he could hear the danger lacing the Emperor’s tone. Curiosity killed the cat; some things weren’t meant to be seen.

Lowering his eyes, he worried his fingers behind his back and said, "No, no, I can’t understand these things anyway. Best not to look."

"I permit you to. Not just this one—you may examine any on the imperial desk. Still unwilling?" The Emperor’s gaze bore into Lin Ting, searching for even the slightest flicker of reaction.

But Lin Ting recoiled as if hearing something terrifying, waving his hands. "No, no, I really don’t want to." *The more you know, the quicker you die.* Besides, he scarcely knew the script here. A stack of memorials would take him a full day to decipher.

He was better off playing the role of a spiritual remedy or a decorative vase—biding his time was ideal.

Finding no reaction on Lin Ting’s face, the Emperor grew disinterested and withdrew the memorial. *Even such temptation couldn’t sway him. Whoever sent him must know my habits well and trained him rigorously.*

But if it was someone close to him… who could it be? The Emperor’s brows furrowed, his gaze sharpening. Whoever it was, their ambitions were undoubtedly vast.

Just then, a commotion arose at the door. Eunuch Qing’s reedy voice rang out, "Empress Dowager, what brings you here? His Majesty is occupied with state affairs."

A cold snort followed. "What, is Chonghua Palace now forbidden to this venerable one?"

The Emperor set down the memorial and said to Zhao Dehai, "Let her in."

Zhao Dehai hurried out. Moments later, he escorted Empress Dowager Xie inside, along with two attendants—one carrying a food box.

The Emperor’s eyes flicked to the box, a faint smile playing on his lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today, Empress Dowager?" He gestured for Zhao Dehai to bring over a carved pearwood chair.

Empress Dowager Xie sat, her smile stiffening slightly when the Emperor immediately resumed reviewing memorials. "I’ve been offering prayers for the late Emperor these past few days and haven’t had time to visit. I heard that with Lord Lin here, your headaches have been mitigated."

The Emperor took a sip of tea and replied leisurely, "Indeed, thanks to your insistence on forcing me out of the palace, my condition has improved. You needn’t worry."

Empress Dowager Xie smiled gracefully. "With Lord Lin here, of course I’m at ease." She motioned for the food box to be opened, revealing a white jade bowl. "Yesterday, I passed the peach grove and saw the blossoms in full bloom, so I picked some to make peach blossom congee. I hope you won’t disdain it."

The Emperor lifted a finger, and Zhao Dehai stepped forward to accept the bowl.

"Your kindness is noted, but with the accumulated matters from my absence, I’ve much to attend to. If there’s nothing else, you may take your leave."

Empress Dowager Xie hadn’t expected such blunt dismissal. Her nails dug into the armrest before she relaxed, assuming composure. "Then I shall not disturb you further."

But before leaving, she took Lin Ting’s hand and patted it. "The Emperor works tirelessly. You must remain vigilant about his headaches—do not neglect your duty."

Lin Ting bowed his head repeatedly, thinking, *I’m not one of his concubines—I’d rather stay far away! Expecting me to attend him constantly? Absolutely not.*

Empress Dowager Xie then gestured, and a maid presented Lin Ting with a strand of pearls.

"A reward for you."

Lin Ting’s eyes sparkled.

*Well… if it means sticking close to the Emperor, maybe it’s not so bad after all.*

"Thank you, Empress Dowager." He held out his hands, and the glistening pearls dropped into his palms, their weight bringing a sense of security only money could provide.

After seeing her off, Lin Ting stuffed the pearls into his sleeve, the clinking sound a sweet sound.

When he turned back, he found the Emperor observing him with wry amusement.

Lin Ting couldn't help but seethe internally: *Look how generous Her Majesty the Empress Dowager is, and then look at you—not only stingy as Scrooge but also wanting my life. I’m practically your life-saving benefactor, and this is how you treat me?*

Pei Xingjian seemed to see through Lin Ting’s thoughts and had Zhao Dehai fetch a box from the treasury. When he returned, he was holding a chest.

Upon opening it, Lin Ting was stunned to find multiple jeweled strands inside.

"Since you’re treating my ailment, and though the Empress Dowager has already rewarded you, I shouldn’t lag behind. Take these jewels back with you." With a casual wave, Zhao Dehai handed the chest to Lin Ting.

Heavier than the pearl necklace, the rainbow of gemstones inside made the once-glistening white pearls pale in comparison.

Lin Ting’s heart raced as he bowed in gratitude to His Majesty, adding the pearl strand to the chest before carefully closing it. Now he could count his treasures every night before bed.

Zhao Dehai then summoned Qingzi to carry the chest out, instructing him to deliver it to Lin Ting’s residence later.

Bolstered by the jewels, Lin Ting returned to Pei Xingjian’s side, fired up with renewed vigor. Even as a decorative vase, he resolved to be the finest one.

He stayed by Pei Xingjian’s side a while longer until the emperor set aside the official documents and massaged his temples. Jumping at the opportunity, Zhao Dehai nudged the peach blossom soup (a sweet dessert soup) forward. "Your Majesty, the soup from the Empress Dowager will grow cold."

Pei Xingjian, who typically disliked sweets, was about to have it discarded when he noticed Lin Ting openly drooling over the soup.

Changing his mind, he pushed the bowl toward Lin Ting. "Want it?"

Lin Ting nodded eagerly. He hadn’t eaten much in the morning and was now rather hungry.

Pei Xingjian tapped the rim of the bowl with a finger. "Go ahead."

Lin Ting gushed three rapid thank-yous and lifted the bowl to his lips—only for Pei Xingjian to remark leisurely, "Aren’t you afraid it might be poisoned?"

Lin Ting froze mid-sip, eyes widening in horror. *No way, the Empress Dowager—surely—couldn’t—be so brazen as to poison the soup she personally delivered? That would be no different from wearing a "I’ll kill the emperor" sign on his forehead.*

Seeing Lin Ting’s fright, Pei Xingjian chuckled. "Just teasing. The Empress Dowager lacks the means for such schemes in the palace."

But the damage was done. The once-tempting peach blossom soup now left him wary. To eat or not to eat—that was the question.

In the end, he finished the soup. He trusted Pei Xingjian wouldn’t deceive him, not when he was still useful. If he died, where would the emperor find another remedy for his headaches?

After the meal, Pei Xingjian took mercy and finally let Lin Ting go.

By then, it was past noon, and fatigue weighed on him. He needed rest.

The heated private quarters were already suffused with healing aroma, painstakingly blended by court doctors and scent masters to mimic Lord Lin’s natural fragrance from thousands of herbs and spices. Yet as Pei Xingjian lay beneath the bed curtains, his mind churned, wispy tendrils of scent doing little to dull the throbbing in his skull.

Seeing the emperor’s furrowed brow, Zhao Dehai knew the headache had returned. "Lord Lin hasn’t gone far yet. This old slave will summon him back at once."

Before he could step out, Pei Xingjian stopped him. "No need."

Zhao Dehai turned back, pleading, "Your Majesty—"

The pain in Pei Xingjian’s head was excruciating. Since finding Lin Ting, he had gone days without suffering like this. Now, after such a brief respite, the agony felt unbearable.

Once pampered, suffering stung sharper. He realized he had grown dependent on Lin Ting—not just for his scent, but for something more. A magnetism that drew attention, an allure that was alarmingly dangerous.

Raising a hand, Pei Xingjian gestured for them to leave. Reluctantly, Zhao Dehai withdrew, standing guard outside.

The sky darkened, and soon rain fell in torrents. Watching the deluge, Zhao Dehai sighed.

-

Amid the storm, Lin Ting first visited the dungeon to see Prime Minister Yan, passing on Young Master Yan’s exact words before inquiring if the minister knew a Mr. Wang.

The search proved fruitless.

Lin Ting then boarded a carriage back to the Prime Minister’s residence. Just as he was about to enter, he spotted Yan Ji rushing out with several servants, trails of water cascading behind them.

"What’s happened?" Lin Ting asked.

Yan Ji approached, rainwater streaking down his face. "Luoshi Village is being flooded!"