Chapter 30

Chapter 30

What was called "kneeling meditation" was, in fact, just kneeling—kneeling on a soft cushion for hours on end.

The Emperor performed his kneeling meditation inside the hall, while the remaining imperial family members and nobles knelt outside.

Lin Ting touched the cushion beneath his knees. Fortunately, he had come prepared. Earlier, he had asked Eunuch Zhao and learned that those who were too young, too old, or in poor health would secretly place a cushion under their knees in advance to avoid injuring themselves from prolonged kneeling.

At this thought, Lin Ting couldn’t help but glance curiously at Pei Xingjian.

He wondered if the Emperor had knee pads. The Emperor’s trousers looked thin, making it impossible to tell.

Pei Xingjian noticed the gaze from beside him and turned his head, catching Lin Ting studying his knees intently. He parted his lips slightly and said, “Kneel properly.”

Lin Ting immediately straightened his posture, staring rigidly ahead.

A moment later, he couldn’t resist sneaking another glance at Pei Xingjian’s knees. Eunuch Zhao had mentioned that the Emperor was in excellent health, having practiced martial arts and archery for years, so his physique was far superior. He probably didn’t need a cushion.

Pei Xingjian’s temple twitched as he caught Lin Ting’s wandering gaze again. He lowered his voice, “I’m not using any knee pads.”

“Ah, I see.” Lin Ting blinked and obediently turned his head back.

-

When the kneeling meditation ended, Lin Ting followed Pei Xingjian out.

By then, the sun had set. The officials kneeling in the courtyard rose one after another upon seeing them emerge.

A white-bearded elder approached and said, “There is still some time before the vegetarian meal. Please be patient, devotees.”

Then, addressing Pei Xingjian, he added, “Your Majesty must accompany this old monk to the lotus pond to craft a sacred Dharma lotus lantern, offering prayers for the people of Great Yong.” This was one of the duties passed down since Emperor Taizu’s time—each emperor would personally make a lotus lantern as an example for all the people.

Pei Xingjian followed the white-bearded monk away.

Once everyone had dispersed, Lin Ting rubbed his knees. He had knelt for nearly two hours today, but thanks to the knee pads, he felt no discomfort.

Still, watching Pei Xingjian walk away with steady steps after kneeling for so long, he couldn’t help but admire—were the Emperor’s knees made of iron or what?

Since there was still time before the meal, Lin Ting decided to visit the backyard. Earlier, Zhang Ji had told him that the peach blossoms in the Southern Monastery’s rear courtyard were exceptional, blooming later than elsewhere.

As he rounded the side courtyard, he heard munching sounds. Curious, he followed the noise and saw a novice monk feeding a vegetable-filled bun to a dog crouched in a corner.

Upon spotting a stranger, the dog immediately bared its teeth, adopting a defensive stance.

Lin Ting retracted his foot.

It wasn’t that he feared dogs—it was just that this one looked highly aggressive, likely mistaking him for someone trying to steal its food. If he took another step forward, it might pounce.

“Hey there,” Lin Ting raised his hands with a friendly smile, “I’m not here to take your food. Let me pass, alright?”

“A’Huang, down.” The novice monk patted the dog’s head and apologized to Lin Ting, “A’Huang is a stray. He used to have his food stolen by other dogs, so he doesn’t like strangers approaching while he’s eating.”

Lin Ting nodded in understanding. “Got it, got it.”

Then, the novice monk pushed the bun toward him. “Would Lord Lin like to feed him too?”

Lin Ting hesitantly rubbed his hands, eyeing A’Huang’s wary gaze. “Will he bite me?”

The novice monk reassured him, “A’Huang doesn’t bite.”

Lin Ting, eager to try, took the bun from the monk’s hand and, before A’Huang could react, quickly shoved it into the dog’s mouth.

A’Huang froze, as if assessing whether the person feeding him was friend or foe.

Perhaps sensing no threat, A’Huang finally opened his mouth and took the bun in one bite.

After A’Huang finished eating, Lin Ting reached out to pat his head. Surprisingly, A’Huang didn’t resist—he even lowered his head cooperatively.

Delighted, Lin Ting asked the novice monk, “Do you have another bun?”

The monk pulled out another from his robe. “The kitchen specially saved two for A’Huang. Here’s the last one.”

***

Meanwhile, Master Liaowu accompanied Pei Xingjian to the eastern side hall. “This old monk observes that Your Majesty’s headaches seem to have improved. Is it thanks to that young man over there?”

Pei Xingjian followed his pointing finger and saw Lin Ting by the corner wall—one hand holding out a bun, the other stroking a dog’s head.

As a banyan leaf drifted down, Pei Xingjian’s gaze lingered for a moment longer.

Master Liaowu smiled knowingly. “This old monk has divined that Your Majesty’s romantic fate is awakening recently—a joyous occasion indeed.”

Pei Xingjian glanced at him impassively. “When I came here as a child, you foretold that I would bring misfortune to my brothers and father, destined to die alone.”

Master Liaowu shook his head gently. “All things in this world are ever-changing. Yet, in this lifetime, Your Majesty has no lifelong companion.”

Pei Xingjian’s heart skipped a beat, a thought flashing through his mind—until Lin Ting’s laughter suddenly carried over.

“A’Huang, why don’t you come back with me? Guard my courtyard. If anyone climbs onto my roof at night, you can bite them down. Follow me, and you’ll eat well and live in luxury. How about it?”

Pei Xingjian’s brow furrowed, and he strode over.

The novice monk, spotting the Emperor, bowed with A’Huang in his arms.

Lin Ting also turned at the sound of footsteps. “Your Majesty.”

Pei Xingjian glanced at the dog shrinking to the side, then at the oblivious Lin Ting, still holding half a bun.

“Do you know where this food comes from?”

“The kitchen gave it.”

Pei Xingjian pointed toward an alley. “Ten steps ahead is the monastery’s Alms Hall, filled with homeless refugees. If you have nothing else to do, accompany me there.”

Lin Ting had no choice but to return the remaining bun to the novice monk. As the Emperor’s Personal Bodyguard, wherever the Emperor went, he had to follow.

Thus, he trailed behind Pei Xingjian toward the Alms Hall.

As they neared the entrance, the sound of an argument grew louder.

Drawing closer, the voices became clearer. Lin Ting recognized one voice snarling:

“How dare you insolent commoners lay hands on this noble heir?”

Another voice retorted, “Even under the Son of Heaven’s rule, scum like you won’t be tolerated! You abuse commoners under the guise of your noble status—we’ll report you to the authorities!”

The first voice was all too familiar to Lin Ting—none other than the heir of the Marquis of Anding. Barely released from house arrest, instead of lying low, he had crossed paths with the Emperor again.

As they stepped into the Alms Hall, they saw Xie Quan pinning a commoner in coarse hemp garments beneath his foot, sneering, “Daring to insult me? Today, I’ll show you your place!”

Beside them, a square table lay overturned, steamed buns spilling from a netted bag onto the surface.

"What are you doing?" A scholar-looking youth suddenly burst out from the cowering crowd, his eyes blazing with rage as he tried to charge forward, only to be held back by those behind him.

"Don't do it, learned sir!" "You mustn't go up there—that's the heir! We can't afford to provoke him!"

"Our lives are worthless, but you, learned sir, are meant to be an official. It's not worth it for us."

The young man's eyes reddened as he shouted angrily, "You damn heir! I'll report you to the Emperor!"

Xie Quan laughed. "Do you know who the Emperor is to me? He's my maternal uncle! And you—" He put more weight on his foot.

The man beneath his foot turned red-faced, as if on the verge of suffocation, when Lin Ting suddenly called out, "Stop!"

Pei Xingjian glanced behind him, and a shadowy figure darted forward in an instant.

Before Xie Quan could even react, he was shoved aside.

Zhuo helped the man up.

By the time Xie Quan steadied himself and saw Pei Xingjian approaching, his face flickered with panic before quickly regaining his composure. What was there to fear? The Emperor was his uncle. Though he had been placed under house arrest last time, he was certain that had just been for appearances' sake.

Thinking this, he shot Lin Ting a hateful glare. If not for this man, he would have succeeded long ago and wouldn't have been trapped in his estate.

Pei Xingjian took in Xie Quan's expression before asking coldly, "What are you doing here?"

Xie Quan shivered slightly under his gaze but replied, "The monks said it wasn't time for the meal yet, but I saw them bringing buns this way. I thought they were sneaking food for themselves—who knew they were feeding these worthless commoners first?"

The more he spoke, the more justified he felt. His uncle was the Emperor! How dare anyone let the Emperor go hungry? They must have a death wish.

"And they didn't even kneel when they saw me! Uncle, their disrespect toward me is disrespect toward you! You must punish them severely!"

Lin Ting couldn't help but find it amusing. How had the Marquis of Anding raised such a tone-deaf idiot? Couldn't he see the Emperor's darkening expression?

But after spending time with Pei Xingjian, Lin Ting had begun to suspect that the reputed cruel deeds attributed to him might not actually be his doing. More likely, they were the work of corrupt officials, with Pei Xingjian taking the blame.

"Oh? And how would you have me punish them?" Pei Xingjian suddenly lifted the corner of his mouth, his gaze icy as he regarded Xie Quan with a mocking smile.

"I—I—" Xie Quan faltered, then caught sight of the overturned buns on the nearby table. A smirk full of ill intent spread across his face. "Then make them eat every bun that fell on the table!"

Let those rabble suffer for daring to defy him. He'd humiliate them thoroughly.

Lin Ting peeked at the buns on the table. The surface looked freshly wiped, pristine enough. The steamed buns were fat and perfectly round, spread across the table like white clouds. He couldn't help but swallow.

Heir Xie, raised in luxury, probably saw no difference between food dropped on a table and food dropped on the ground. But to these people, it was worlds apart.

The table was pristine—Lin Ting thought even he would gladly eat them, let alone the poor.

The commoners being pointed at didn't seem angry. No matter how the nobles beat or cursed them, as long as their food wasn't taken, they'd endure.

Pei Xingjian waved a hand. "Go. Distribute the buns to the people."

Xie Quan, believing the Emperor supported him, smirked arrogantly and lifted his nose in the air, taunting the scholar.

When Zhao Dehai handed the scholar a bun, the young man turned his face away in refusal.

Xie Quan sneered. "A weak, penniless scholar dares defy the Emperor's order? Guards! Give him thirty strokes of the cane!"

The scholar's face flushed red. Ignoring the pleas of those behind him, he shouted, "A den of thieving rats!"

Xie Quan's face darkened. He raised his hand to strike, but Zhuo intercepted him mid-swing.

"Uncle?" Xie Quan looked at the Emperor in confusion.

Pei Xingjian narrowed his eyes. "This is hallowed ground. No violence."

Reluctantly, Xie Quan lowered his hand.

But the scholar suddenly broke free and knelt before Pei Xingjian. "Your Majesty, though my station is low, I know this—if those in power cannot distinguish right from wrong and heed the words of sycophants, the dynasty will not last!"

"You insolent cur!" Xie Quan lunged forward again, only to be seized once more by Zhuo. As he struggled, he caught sight of the Emperor—his eyes reddened, veins bulging red.

He froze. "Y-Your Majesty… your affliction… it's flaring up again!"