Chapter 18

Chapter 18

When Lin Ting stepped out, Prime Minister Yan and his grandson Yan Ji were already waiting at the palace gate.

Seeing him emerge, the two bowed in gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Lin, for saving our lives."

Lin Ting smiled candidly. "Don’t mention it. Prime Minister Yan is a pillar of Great Yong. Saving him is saving myself." After all, according to his dream, the Prime Minister’s death had directly led to discord between the ruler and his subjects, accelerating Great Yong’s demise.

Didn’t they say that if you don’t work hard in your youth, you’ll only have regrets in old age? To ensure a peaceful retirement in Great Yong, he might as well exert himself more while he was still young.

Yan Que was deeply impressed by his words, feeling a surge of admiration.

As the saying goes, scholars often disparage each other, but Lord Lin, despite his youth, possessed the dignified bearing and character of a true scholar—his future was bound to be bright.

Turning to his grandson, he spoke earnestly, "Ji’er, you must learn from Lord Lin’s steadiness. Lord Lin is—"

Suddenly, a loud clatter sounded behind them, followed by a sharp intake of breath, and then a pained cry: "Ow, ow!"

Yan Que turned to see the "steady" Lord Lin clutching one leg while hopping backward on the other. Noticing their gazes, Lin Ting forced a grin. "Haha, didn’t expect the carriage step to be so high."

Yan Que’s beard twitched as he pointed to the other side. "Lord Lin, the step stool is over there."

Lin Ting blinked and indeed spotted a properly sized stool. He lowered his leg, patted the spot where he’d tripped, and laughed again. "Must’ve overlooked it earlier, haha." Limping to the other side, he climbed into the carriage with the coachman’s help.

"Grandfather, what were you about to say?" Yan Ji pressed.

Yan Que’s beard trembled again. After a pause, he finally said, "Lord Lin is... serious yet spirited. You... you should learn from him." With that, he too boarded the carriage.

Yan Ji followed suit.

Now, three people sat inside the carriage. Fortunately, it was spacious enough that none of them felt cramped.

The coachman mounted his seat and raised his whip, ready to depart, when a shrill voice suddenly called out from behind: "Wait! Lord Lin, wait—"

Lin Ting lifted the carriage curtain to see Eunuch Zhao panting heavily as he ran after them, his horsetail whisk waving, followed by a few young eunuchs.

The Yan family’s attendants noticed and quickly signaled the coachman to halt.

Zhao Dehai stopped before the carriage, too out of breath to stand straight. He had feared he wouldn’t catch up in time and had run like mad. Thankfully, the carriage stopped—otherwise, he’d have had to send someone to the Prime Minister’s residence later.

Though a trip there wouldn’t have been impossible, handling matters right at the palace gate was far more convenient.

"Lord Lin, this old servant has brought you something." Zhao Dehai took a brocade box from the eunuch behind him and handed it through the carriage window to Lin Ting. "His Majesty specifically ordered this to be delivered to you."

Lin Ting weighed the box in his hand—it wasn’t heavy and was secured with a latch. He had no idea what was inside and was about to open it when Zhao Dehai stopped him. "Lord Lin, you mustn’t."

Puzzled, Lin Ting asked, "What’s in here?"

Zhao Dehai responded with a mysterious smile. "You’ll find out once you open it later at home."

Lin Ting shook the box lightly, hearing faint clinking sounds from within—small objects colliding, though indistinct.

What’s all the mystery about? And why does Eunuch Zhao’s smile give me such a bad feeling?

He slipped the box into his sleeve, where it formed a noticeable square lump. Pressing it flat, he said, "Thank you, Eunuch Zhao. I’ll check it out later."

Zhao Dehai nodded cheerfully, then produced a shiny gold token from his sleeve. "His Majesty also instructed this to be given to you."

Lin Ting took it and examined it closely. The token seemed made of some special material, its surface gold-plated, with a golden dragon carved on the front. It was smaller and lighter than the jade token Pei Xingjian had given him before.

"What’s this?" he asked, oblivious to the sudden change in expressions on the faces of the Yan family members behind him.

Zhao Dehai explained, "This is a Tianxuan Guard token. His Majesty said that since you’re free anyway, you might as well get some experience with the Tianxuan Guard."

Lin Ting nearly dropped the token in shock, his voice rising sharply. "What? Me?" Do I look like Tianxuan Guard material?

He couldn’t fight, couldn’t climb walls—what use would he be in the Tianxuan Guard? As a human target? Or was the tyrant plotting against him again?

He thrust the token right back. "No, no, I can’t do this. He knew his limits—anything life-threatening was a hard pass."

Zhao Dehai caught the nearly fallen token and sighed. "Ah, Lord Lin, you misunderstand. His Majesty isn’t asking you to actually join the Tianxuan Guard." He pulled out a document from his sleeve. "His Majesty said you’ll serve as his Personal Attendant from now on."

Lin Ting glanced at the document—it was an official appointment decree naming him as the emperor’s Personal Attendant.

He’d heard of imperial guards before, but what was this "Personal Attendant"? It sounded... questionable.

Seeing his disbelief, Zhao Dehai clarified, "It’s just daily tasks like preparing ink and delivering petitions—very light work."

Oh, so a personal secretary.

Lin Ting leaned in and whispered, "Really that easy?"

Zhao Dehai thumped his chest confidently, then added with a sly grin, "You’ll also receive a monthly salary. And if His Majesty is pleased, he might casually give you pearls, jade..."

Lin Ting’s eyes lit up at the thought. A comfortable retirement required diligent saving in youth. He needed to save up as much as he could now so he could live comfortably later.

He took back the token. "I’ll take the job."

Eunuch Zhao happily sent them on their way.

Back at the Prime Minister’s residence, Lin Ting hurried into his room and wasted no time opening the box. He had to see what was inside.

Unlatching it, he found the box filled with round, furry things—completely strange.

Lin Ting picked one up, examining it puzzled. Just then, Yan Ji came looking for him, and Lin Ting pulled him inside, waving the object in front of him.

"Brother Yan, what do you think this is?"

Yan Ji glanced at it—then his eyes widened, his face turning beet red.

Pointing at the object, he stuttered, "Th-this—this is—"

Lin Ting, baffled, shook Yan Ji’s shoulders. "Hey, what’s wrong?" Why’s he turning red? Is this thing that embarrassing?

Yan Ji stumbled back, staring at him with an indescribable expression.

Lin Ting: ?

Yan Ji bit his lip, as if struggling to find words, before finally saying, "Lord Lin... this is deer velvet."

Instantly, the object in Lin Ting’s hand felt like it was burning.

His mistake for accepting it without asking.

And why would Pei Xingjian give him deer velvet? What gave him the impression that Lin Ting needed it? Did Zhao Dehai even deliver the right thing?

Flustered, Lin Ting slammed the box shut and hurled it into a corner of the cabinet. Better not to look at something so embarrassing.

Yan Ji stumbled out in confusion.

That night, Zhao Dehai entered Chonghua Hall carrying a bowl of bird's nest tonic.

Pei Xingjian took it and tasted a few spoonfuls before casually asking, "Did you deliver the supplement to Lin Ting?"

Zhao Dehai smiled. "Yes, I personally selected it. It’s guaranteed to give Lord Lin energy." As soon as he finished speaking, he noticed the Emperor giving him an odd look. His heart skipped a beat, and he cautiously asked, "Your Majesty, is... is there a problem?"

Pei Xingjian sensed something amiss. "What did you send?"

"Deer antler velvet."

Pei Xingjian: "...... I told you to choose something to help with sleep."

Realizing his mistake, Zhao Dehai immediately knelt. "This old servant messed up. Please punish me, Your Majesty."

Pei Xingjian set down the jade porcelain bowl and pressed his fingers to his temples, feeling a headache coming on—how was he supposed to explain to Lin Ting that the supplement he had Zhao Dehai deliver was just a regular supplement, not *that* kind of supplement?

"Forget it," he waved dismissively. "You may leave."

That night, thanks to the box of deer antler, Lin Ting ended up sleepless again.

He sat up in the middle of the night, wrapped in his blanket, huddled in a corner of the bed, questioning his life choices. He had only *looked* at it—he hadn’t even consumed it! So why couldn’t he sleep?

What exactly was Pei Xingjian trying to imply? Hinting he’s... lacking? Sure, he might not be as physically robust as Pei Xingjian, but he wasn’t *frail* either. He was younger, still growing—what right did Pei Xingjian have to insinuate otherwise?

The next day, when Yan Ji went to find Lord Lin, he discovered the room empty, with no sign of him.

He stopped a passing servant and learned that Lord Lin had gone to the garden in the backyard early in the morning. Heading there, he found Lin Ting in the pavilion, bending, stretching, and doing leg lifts in various motions.

Approaching, Yan Ji greeted, "Lord Lin, good morning."

Lin Ting glanced at him, sizing him up, and noticed that Yan Ji’s physique was a tad better than his. He waved him over. "Young Master Yan, come join me in exercising."

Yan Ji didn’t understand, but if Lord Lin was doing it, it had to be good. Besides, his grandfather had advised him to learn from Lord Lin, so there must be a purpose to this.

Thus, he followed along, swinging his arms, kicking, and jumping.

After completing the routine, Lin Ting finally felt satisfied.

Slow and steady wins the race. Today, he’d focus on warm-up exercises. If he had time tomorrow, he’d jog a lap around the garden, then two laps the day after—gradual progress was the right approach.

He threw an arm around Yan Ji’s shoulders. "What did you come to see me for?"

Yan Ji seemed to finally remember his purpose. He had come to invite Lin Ting to a meal.

The Yans would never forget Lord Lin’s kindness in saving them during their crisis. But Lord Lin had been overly humble, refusing their banquet invitations, which had only deepened his grandfather’s admiration.

In fact, his grandfather had even remarked, *With such a scholar’s integrity, how could Great Yong not thrive?*

Though a family feast was out of the question, they could find another way—like taking Lord Lin out to eat at the best restaurant in the capital.

Sure enough, the moment Lin Ting heard it was the renowned Dengxian Lou, the capital’s top-ranked, he immediately agreed.

Everyone had a love for good food. Though the Yan family had prepared a feast for him the day before, he had declined—not that he disliked the food, but because he simply didn’t want to socialize. Who wanted to make small talk during their downtime? Couldn’t they just enjoy a meal in peace?

But Yan Ji’s invitation to Dengxian Lou, with just the two of them, was just Lin Ting’s speed. Good food was best enjoyed in a comfortable setting.

By noon, they arrived at Dengxian Lou.

Using his status as the Prime Minister’s grandson, Yan Ji secured a window-side private room overlooking the street.

As they sat down, Lin Ting couldn’t help but sigh: *The Prime Minister’s clout sure is useful.*

The weather was clear, and a gentle breeze drifted in through the slightly open window.

Outside, the streets were lively, the people content; in the distance, carriages and crowds bustled, vendors hawking their wares—a scene of prosperity.

Just then, the door to their room opened, and a waiter entered with a spread of exquisite dishes, arranging them beautifully on the table.

After announcing, "Enjoy your meal, honored guests," he left.

But in the moment the door opened, yelling erupted downstairs:

"Scram, you little punk! Who do you think you are? I’m the heir of the Marquis of Anding—think twice about how many lives you’ve got before daring to meddle in my affairs!"

This was followed by the sound of crashing, a woman’s scream, and the uproar of the crowd, each wave of noise drowning out the last.

Lin Ting set down his teacup and narrowed his eyes. "The Marquis of Anding... *heir*?"