Chapter 28

Chapter 28

When Lin Ting awoke again, a flash of white light crossed his vision, revealing white curtains fluttering above his head.

The scene left him momentarily disoriented. "Where am I? Did I die?"

A loud clatter echoed, as if something heavy had fallen.

Lin Ting turned his head slightly, seeing only a figure in white.

His fingertips trembled as he whispered, "Are you an angel?"

Suddenly, a deep voice came from beside him. "He's the imperial physician."

A white-robed angel?

Lin Ting blinked, his sluggish mind finally recognizing the voice. "Your Majesty?"

Pei Xingjian had rushed over after Zhao Dehai informed him that Lin Ting had woken up. The man on the bed had pale lips, dazed eyes, and a misty gaze—looking utterly pitiful.

Even Zhao Dehai felt his heart ache at the sight.

Pei Xingjian acknowledged with a faint hum.

Only then did Lin Ting realize he seemed to be lying in bed. "What happened to me?"

Imperial Physician Wei picked himself up from the floor, took Lin Ting's wrist to check his pulse, and said, "Lord Lin caught a chill yesterday." He paused, as if remembering something, and deliberately emphasized, "It's not life-threatening. A few doses of medicine and some rest will do."

"Oh." Lin Ting barely reacted, obediently lying still.

Pei Xingjian glanced at him a few times, a strange heaviness settling in his chest.

"Drink the medicine," he said. "I’ll allow you to rest for a few days."

Lin Ting's hand trembled slightly, and his lips moved faintly. "I can rest?"

Pei Xingjian's eyes darkened further. He had always believed he hadn’t been particularly harsh on Lin Ting. As the saying went, one who ate the emperor's grain should serve the emperor faithfully. Lin Ting merely attended court with him—and even then, he dozed through half of it. Was that really so exhausting?

After taking Lin Ting's pulse, Wei An wrote a prescription, and Qingzi immediately took it to the Imperial Medical Office to prepare the medicine.

Wei An hesitated for a moment. Considering Lord Lin had once saved his life, he gathered his courage before leaving and approached the emperor. "Your Majesty, Lord Lin’s illness stems partly from the chill, but also likely from overwork. This physician believes Lord Lin should rest properly."

Pei Xingjian rubbed the bridge of his nose, unable to help wondering if he had truly been overworking him.

"You may go."

Wei An's lips twitched, and though he wanted to say more, the emperor's expression made him abandon the thought. He picked up his medicine chest and left.

Before long, Qingzi returned with a bowl of steaming herbal medicine.

By now, Lin Ting had regained some clarity of mind, but the sight of the steaming medicine made him grimace.

He clutched the blanket tightly, looking pathetic. "Can I... not drink it?" Could he possibly die from the bitterness of the medicine?

As he spoke, a flush spread across his cheeks, though he still looked exhausted.

Pei Xingjian was silent for a moment before replying coldly, "No." He simply took the bowl and placed it directly in front of Lin Ting.

An overpoweringly bitter smell assaulted Lin Ting's nose.

Lin Ting whimpered.

The two remained in a stalemate for a long while, Lin Ting taking deep breaths to psych himself up. "Let me prepare first."

Pei Xingjian's tone was indifferent. "It's only medicine, not a death sentence."

Lin Ting lowered his head and chose silence.

As the steam gradually dissipated, Pei Xingjian's eyebrow twitched. "If you don’t drink it soon, it’ll turn cold—and even more bitter."

Lin Ting's eyelid jumped. He leaned in slightly, only for the smell to make his stomach churn.

Which palace servant had brewed this? Had they no sense? Couldn’t they have added some sugar? His gaze drifted toward Qingzi.

As if reading his thoughts, Pei Xingjian said, "The eunuch already added rock sugar." Seeing Lin Ting's miserable expression, he extended a hand toward Zhao Dehai.

Zhao Dehai produced a small jar and opened it—inside were candied fruits.

Pei Xingjian took it and said, "Drink the medicine. These will help with the bitterness."

Lin Ting fought an internal battle. Judging by the emperor's demeanor, there was no way he could avoid drinking it today.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As the saying went, "Bitter medicine brings sweet health." If he endured this suffering now, perhaps his future days would be smooth sailing.

*Heaven help me survive this.*

After much mental preparation, Lin Ting shut his eyes tightly and groped forward blindly.

Out of sight, out of mind—if he couldn’t see it, he could pretend it was just water.

Pei Xingjian glanced down and saw the man's hands flailing around, missing the bowl even after several attempts. Growing impatient, he simply brought the bowl to Lin Ting's lips. "Drink."

As soon as it touched his lips, the medicinal fumes assaulted Lin Ting's nose. Before he could react, his tongue met the liquid.

Without thinking, he pinched his nose, opened his mouth, and chugged it down in one go.

Once the medicine was finally swallowed, he immediately grabbed the candied fruits from Pei Xingjian's palm, taking them all in one swift motion.

The brush of fingertips against his palm left a tingling sensation through Pei Xingjian. His hand suddenly empty, his fingers twitched slightly before he calmly clasped his hands behind his back.

Only when the bitterness in his mouth finally faded did Lin Ting relax, letting out a deep breath.

That was close—he'd been holding his breath the entire time, nearly suffocating himself.

Pei Xingjian glanced at him. "Who knew drinking medicine could pose a suffocation risk?"

Lin Ting's lips twitched. His gaze landed on a drop of medicine on the emperor's thumb, and he swallowed his words.

Wait—how had he drunk the medicine just now? He hadn’t used his own hands.

Then who had—Lin Ting's eyelids spasmed violently.

*Oh god, oh god! Had he really just gotten the emperor to feed him medicine?*

But Pei Xingjian's expression remained stern. After a moment of silence, Lin Ting said, "Your Majesty, this subject would like to ask for a few days off." He hadn’t forgotten—if he left without permission, it would be considered skipping work. Who knew if his pay would be cut?

Pei Xingjian nodded, his tone softening. "Rest well at your residence these next few days. There’s no need to come before me until you’ve recovered."

Hearing this, a clever thought flashed through Lin Ting's mind—*a worker’s essential skill is learning how to slack off.*

He moistened his lips and stood up, saying, "Sir, this sickness of mine won't get better for at least ten days to half a month."

Pei Xingjian stared at him for a while, as if assessing the truth of his words.

After a long pause, he said, "Then I shall order the Imperial Hospital to increase the dosage, to get you back on your feet before heading to Southern Minister Temple."

Lin Ting's throat tightened. *Typical capitalist mentality, always sharp-witted.*

"No need. I’ll try to bounce back quicker on my own."

After feeling dizzy half the day, he was seen out of the palace by Qingzi as soon as he finished the medicine and handed over to Zhang Ji, who had already been waiting at the gate upon hearing the news.

The carriage rocked gently toward the Lin residence.

In that short ride, Lin Ting, buried under blankets, sneezed three times, making Zhang Ji outside grow more concerned. Slowing the carriage, he asked, "Lord Lin, are you alright? Should I carry you inside?"

Lin Ting, his head heavy, leaned against the carriage wall and shook his head. "No need, I can manage." The street outside the Lin estate was bustling with people, and he had no desire to be gawked at like a spectacle.

Zhang Ji could only sigh regretfully in response.

Upon arriving at the estate, Lin Ting was helped down by Zhang Ji. Though the sun shone brightly, he only felt a chill all over and tightened his cloak, limping his way inside.

Once back, Lin Ting collapsed into bed and slept like the dead. When he woke again, the sun was nearly setting.

Groggily, he got up and stepped outside, finding Zhang Ji waiting. "What time is it?"

Zhang Ji replied, "My lord, it’s past *youshi* (5–7 PM)."

Perhaps the sleep had drained his energy, for he now felt much more clear-headed—but now he was starving.

"Prepare some food for me," he told Zhang Ji.

Zhang Ji nodded but hesitated before leaving.

Lin Ting frowned. "Is there something else?"

Zhang Ji said, "My lord, while you were resting, several officials sent gifts. I didn’t dare make decisions on my own, so I’ve counted them all up for your review."

Lin Ting’s interest immediately perked up. "Take me to see them."

He followed Zhang Ji to the front courtyard, where the gifts were neatly arranged.

Lin Ting scanned them one by one before suddenly asking, "Who sent these?"

Zhang Ji pointed them out in turn. "This is from Li Changsheng of the Hanlin Academy, that’s from Wang Shitong, the Assistant Minister of Revenue, and this one is from the Registrar of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices..." After listing them all, he awaited Lord Lin’s instructions.

The gifts were cleverly chosen—no extravagant jewels, just practical yet luxurious items: Ru kiln porcelain, glow-in-the-dark pearls from the South Sea... clearly thoughtfully chosen.

After a moment of thought, Lin Ting suddenly countered, "What do you think we should do?"

Zhang Ji assumed Lord Lin, being new to government service, was unfamiliar with such matters and didn’t know how to handle them. Unable to resist, he advised, "Lord Lin, His Majesty despises private dealings among officials. Though these gifts are discreet, someone might still report it to the Emperor."

At the mention of "someone," Lin Ting glanced at the rooftops around the courtyard. Zhang Ji didn’t realize that very "someone" was right above their heads.

*This stuff is really nice—I’ve never used anything so fine before.*

"So, Lord Lin, you should—" Zhang Ji prompted.

"Accept them all," Lin Ting declared.

"Return them all?"

Zhang Ji froze. "Huh?"

Lin Ting gave him a puzzled look. "Why return them? Take what’s freely given—keep everything." *This is free money! If I don’t take it, they’ll just bribe other officials. Better I hold onto it. If the Emperor ever decides to crack down on corruption, I’ll have ready evidence.*

Zhang Ji was stunned, his dark beard trembling. He asked uncertainly, "Really keep them?"

Lin Ting nodded firmly.

Zhang Ji’s hands shook, speechless.

He had thought Lord Lin, so young and favored by the Emperor, must have a bright future ahead—an upright man worthy of imperial regard. But now it seemed... *he’s a total corrupt official!!!*

***

News of Lin Ting accepting all the gifts spread through the capital in less than a day. The officials, while privately cursing the gift-givers' nerve, quietly brought their own presents to his doorstep.

And Lord Lin? He refused none, accepting everything with a big grin. The ministers could only admire him—*no wonder the Emperor favors him. This nerve is beyond ordinary men.*

Pei Xingjian received the news five days later.

Qingshan knelt below, giving a detailed report. When he mentioned the gifts, he hesitated noticeably.

"Lord Lin... accepted all the gifts from the officials."

Pei Xingjian finally looked up, asking uncertainly, "All of them?"

Qingshan was sweating nervously. "Every single one. Not a single item was returned." Even a few pairs of bamboo chopsticks had been happily accepted.

Pei Xingjian’s expression darkened, his face unreadable. With a wave, he dismissed the man.

Beside him, Zhao Dehai was terrified. If it were any other matter, he might have mediated, but accepting gifts? That was poking the Emperor’s sore spot. *Oh no, what do we do now?*

"Your Majesty, this old servant thinks... perhaps Lord Lin has some good reason?"

Pei Xingjian set down his brush and let out a mysterious cold laugh.

"Bring the court physician."

His black robes swirling, Pei Xingjian marched out the door.

Zhao Dehai’s heart jumped, and he scrambled after him.