Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Oh, Lord Lin, you're finally awake! This old servant was worried to death!" Zhao Dehai clutched his chest, his heart still pounding from the fright. Heaven knew what he and His Majesty felt when they saw Lin Ting, a lone figure, carrying a child in the swirling floodwaters. With Lord Lin's delicate constitution, how could he possibly endure such an ordeal?

Watching Lin Ting hand the child to safety only to nearly drown himself, Zhao Dehai felt his heart seize up. Thankfully, the Tianxuan Guard arrived just in time to pull him out.

Still shaken, Zhao Dehai said, "Lord Lin, forgive this old servant for speaking out of turn, but such matters could have been left to your subordinates. There are plenty here who are skilled swimmers—why did you have to go yourself?"

It was a raging flood! Such a perilous place—what if something truly untoward had happened? What would they do? What would His Majesty do?!

He glanced at the Emperor and, sure enough, His Majesty’s face had darkened, his brows furrowed, lips pressed thin—a storm was brewing. Zhao Dehai couldn't help but shrink back. *Lord Lin, may you find your own blessings.*

Meanwhile, Lin Ting was still disoriented, shaking his head, the sound of water sloshing in his ears. He clutched his head. "Ah, my brain is waterlogged."

Then, a cold hand gripped his wrist, pulling it away. The touch was icy, colder even than the floodwaters he had just been submerged in.

Lin Ting looked up to see Pei Xingjian, his dark green bamboo-patterned outer robe loosely draped, eyes bloodshot, brows deeply furrowed, exuding an aura of silent, formidable anger.

A gust of wind blew in, and Lin Ting shivered.

*This feeling—it's not good...*

He murmured, "Where... where is this?" His eyes darted around the unfamiliar space.

Zhao Dehai quickly interjected, "Lord Lin, this is His Majesty’s carriage."

Then, catching a glance from Pei Xingjian, he understood the hint, grabbed an umbrella from the corner, and discreetly exited.

Lin Ting reached out. "Wait—" But the dark figure vanished into the rain without a trace of hesitation.

Now, only the two of them remained inside the carriage.

Zhao Dehai, ever the thoughtful servant, even pulled the carriage curtain shut behind him, leaving the interior dim and silent, their breaths the only discernible sound.

Lin Ting suddenly found the atmosphere oppressively strange, especially with Pei Xingjian still gripping his hand—the icy coldness seeping from his fingers into Lin Ting’s wrist bone, making him extremely uncomfortable.

After a long pause, he moistened his lips and broke the silence. "Your Majesty, why have you come?"

Pei Xingjian’s voice was cold and hard. "Why did you go to save those two?"

Lin Ting found the question baffling. He immediately replied, "Your subject simply saw them in distress and went to rescue them. That is all."

As he spoke, rainwater clinging to his cheeks trembled and slid down, disappearing into his collar. His inner robe, completely soaked, clung tightly to his body, accentuating his slender waist that rose and fell with each breath—so delicate it seemed one hand could encircle it entirely.

Pei Xingjian’s Adam's apple bobbed. His gaze lifted to Lin Ting’s face—frank and unpretentious, as if he had acted purely on instinct.

Pei Xingjian closed his eyes briefly.

At first, he had thought this man was deeply secretive, his methods cunning, his defenses unbreachable no matter how he probed. Yet, Lin Ting seemed unconnected to any of the factions he suspected, as if telling him to lower his guard.

Lin Ting was too transparent, his eyes too bright. Zhao Dehai had been right about one thing: someone with a guilty conscience couldn’t possess such an innocent gaze.

His thoughts drifted, unaware that Lin Ting was internally cursing him.

*What is this emperor doing?*

*Is he not letting go?*

*Why is he gripping tighter? Is he thinking of how to punish me?*

*Wuwu, Eunuch Zhao, where are you? I can’t bear this alone!*

A faint ache radiated from his wrist. Lin Ting endured it as long as he could before finally lowering his head and murmuring, "Your Majesty, could you please release your subject’s hand first?"

Pei Xingjian’s face remained impassive as he glanced at the pale hand in his grip, now faintly reddened. Without a word, he loosened his hold and withdrew his hand, clenching it into a fist.

Freed, Lin Ting rubbed his wrist, flexing his fingers, when he heard Pei Xingjian ask, "Who sent you?"

Lin Ting looked up, bewildered. *Sent me? Does the Emperor suspect I’m not from this world?*

He hadn’t told a soul—how could Pei Xingjian know?

Seeing the sudden change in Lin Ting’s expression, Pei Xingjian’s narrow eyes flashed with a cold light. He seized Lin Ting’s chin again, deciding to give him one last chance, his voice chillingly calm: "Tell me who sent you, and I will spare your life."

Lin Ting was stunned. *Huh? I just escaped death, and now I’m stepping right back into the underworld?*

This wasn’t just a tyrant—this was a living Yama King, bandying about executions as if they were nothing. Didn’t he know killing was illegal?

Oh, right. In this dynasty, the Emperor *was* the law.

But the saying went, *The Son of Heaven is bound by the same laws as the common people.* Yet, judging by Pei Xingjian’s capricious nature, he probably paid no heed to such advice.

Lin Ting’s gaze flickered. His transmigration here had not been by choice, but it was so fantastical. Would this man even believe him? Or would he be locked up as a madman?

"You... you already know?"

Pei Xingjian’s heart sank. *Indeed. No one comes to my side without an agenda. I was a fool to be swayed by those innocent eyes.*

Then, Lin Ting raised four fingers, his back ramrod straight, and declared solemnly, "I swear, Heaven itself sent me here."

A strange silence descended upon the carriage.

Lin Ting grew a little flustered. He saw Pei Xingjian’s gaze sweep over him like a machine gun, his narrow eyes suddenly devoid of emotion.

A few breaths later, a mocking scoff escaped Pei Xingjian.

He released Lin Ting’s chin and straightened up, standing tall and firm as a pine. "Get out," he commanded.

Lin Ting: "Huh?"

Zhao Dehai, who had been waiting under a nearby awning, saw Lin Ting tumble out of the carriage—not stepping down so much as being *ejected*.

His heart lurched. He hurried over. "Lord Lin, what happened? His Majesty didn’t—" *do anything to you, did he?*

Lin Ting, confused and annoyed by being unceremoniously thrown out, thought, *If you don’t believe me, fine, but must you cast me out as if I’d told some preposterous joke?* He couldn’t even fathom what Pei Xingjian was angry about. Did he think Lin Ting was lying? But he *was* sent by Heaven—not that he wanted to be!

Just then, a voice called from inside the carriage: "Zhao Dehai, come in."

Before Zhao Dehai could finish his sentence, he hastened back inside.

Moments later, he returned with a crane-feather cloak and handed it to Lin Ting. "Lord Lin, His Majesty ordered this for you. The palace servants have prepared ginger broth—please take care of yourself and don't catch a cold."

Lin Ting wanted to refuse, but a glance at the shadowy figure inside the carriage made him change his mind. He drew the cloak about his shoulders.

"Thank you, Eunuch Zhao."

Zhao Dehai chuckled meaningfully. "Lord Lin should thank His Majesty."

Lin Ting: *...Must you mention him?*

He gave a nod in that direction and then turned to head towards Yan Ji.

Zhao Dehai returned to the carriage and, seeing the emperor with his eyes shut and brow slightly furrowed, reported, "Lord Lin accepted the cloak and was quite pleased."

Pei Xingjian replied indifferently, "I can see perfectly well."

Zhao Dehai fell silent.

Though he didn’t know what Lord Lin and the emperor had discussed earlier, he had been startled by the emperor’s grim expression when he entered. Yet afterward, the emperor had told him to deliver the cloak and hadn’t even reprimanded Lord Lin for forgetting the proper etiquette of bowing and speaking—something that would have been considered a grave disrespect before. It seemed the emperor was merely putting on an angry front but still cared for Lord Lin deep down.

At that moment, Yan Ji was directing servants to distribute warm clothing and servings of ginger soup to the villagers. Noticing Lin Ting approaching, he called out, "Lord Lin, come have a bowl of ginger soup as well. His Majesty ordered us to bring clothes and ginger soup, and we’re distributing them now."

As Lin Ting drew closer, Yan Ji caught sight of the cloak slung over his shoulders and his face changed slightly. "Lord Lin, that cloak—"

Lin Ting replied casually, "His Majesty gave it to me."

"Oh." Yan Ji relaxed, thinking to himself how much the emperor favored Lord Lin.

Only when Lin Ting moved closer did he notice dozens of carriages stationed further back. Pointing at them, he asked, "Where did those carriages come from?"

Yan Ji glanced back and said, "His Majesty ordered them brought as well. With Luoshi Village destroyed, the villagers have nowhere to go. His Majesty commanded that they be temporarily relocated to the city's refugee shelter."

He had always believed the current emperor to be a cruel ruler, and when he heard that the emperor intended to abandon these villagers callously, he had been furious. But now, it seemed that if the villagers had left earlier, they could have avoided this tragedy.

After distributing the ginger soup and clothing, everyone rested briefly before the villagers were loaded into the carriages.

Luoshi Village had over a hundred villagers in total, but fortunately, the emperor had the foresight to bring enough carriages in time.

Lin Ting boarded one of the carriages. He was still wearing his undergarments, the thin white underrobe clinging to him and nearly translucent. Yan Ji didn’t know where to put his eyes and hastily handed over the outer robe Lin Ting had discarded earlier.

Lin Ting took it, but the robe was already soaked and unsuitable to wear, so he tossed it aside and wrapped himself tightly in the cloak instead, now feeling much warmer.

On the way to the refugee shelter, Lin Ting noticed a familiar carriage parked at the entrance from a distance. As he drew closer, he realized—wasn't that Pei Xingjian’s carriage? He had assumed the emperor had returned to the palace, but it seemed he had come here instead.

Fresh from surviving disaster, the villagers looked shell-shocked and weary. Once inside the shelter, they huddled together while Prefect Xue Ping had already ordered a bonfire lit for them to gather around and warm themselves.

As Lin Ting stepped out of the carriage, he saw Zhao Dehai waiting for him, holding up a long robe with a smile. "Lord Lin, His Majesty remembered halfway here that your clothes were soaked and you had nothing clean to change into, so he found this robe for you. Please take care of your health."

Lin Ting couldn’t fathom what had gotten into the emperor this time, but he accepted it anyway.

The robe was embroidered with golden pine and crane patterns, its collar folded and adorned with cloud motifs. The accompanying belt bore intricate Kui dragon designs, clearly above a commoner's station.

A faint fragrance lingered on the fabric, as if it had been stored in a wardrobe with incense for a long time. It didn’t seem newly purchased—more like it had been worn before. The belt's dragon motifs peeked through, and the only person qualified to wear such a robe—

Lin Ting stopped his train of thought, taking the robe back into the carriage to change.

When he stepped out again, Zhao Dehai’s eyes lit up. He had always known Lord Lin was graceful and handsome, but while the robe made the emperor look dignified and noble, on Lord Lin, it was breathtakingly stunning—what a beauty.

Yan Ji’s eyes suddenly brightened as well. He hadn’t noticed before, but Lord Lin was... truly... beautiful.

Noticing Yan Ji’s gaze, Zhao Dehai snapped his horsetail whisk—*What are you looking at?*

Yan Ji hastily averted his eyes, the tips of his ears turning faintly red.

Unaware of the silent exchange between the two, Lin Ting strode inside. Hundreds of people were crowded into the courtyard, and upon seeing him, they all lowered their heads.

The village chief stepped forward and said, "My lord, thank you."

The other villagers echoed, "We owe you our lives, my lord."

...

"It’s nothing, nothing," Lin Ting waved his hand and asked, "Is there anything else you need?"

The villagers shook their heads. Now that they had clean clothes and full stomachs, they dared not ask for more.

Then, a woman suddenly pulled her child forward and knelt before Lin Ting. "Thank you for saving my child’s life, my lord. You are a kind and virtuous person. We were blinded by greed, and that’s why we suffered this calamity."

Lin Ting quickly helped her up.

The woman continued, "That Mr. Wang you asked about when you first came to our village arrived a month ago."

Lin Ting listened quietly. According to her, "Mr. Wang" had given each villager fifty taels of silver, urging them to demand money from the court. If they succeeded, it would be a huge windfall; if not, fifty taels was more than a year’s worth of expenses for them—they couldn’t lose.

Moreover, Mr. Wang had claimed that the court intended to drive them out of the village and abandon them afterward. The villagers, having lived there for generations, were uneasy about leaving their homeland and eventually agreed to Mr. Wang’s proposal.

Having obtained this crucial information, Lin Ting immediately went to report to Pei Xingjian.

Though he didn’t want to face the emperor right now, duty called.

Ah! The trope of "cold-faced but dutifully working" from novels now had a concrete manifestation—grudgingly doing his duty.