Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Lin Ting scurried back to Nanxiang Temple, his heart pounding with trepidation.

Qingzi, already apprised of the situation, was waiting with a change of clothes. Upon seeing Lord Lin, he quickly offered the garments.

"Lord Lin, His Majesty commanded this humble servant to await your return."

Lin Ting accepted the clothes and was led by Qingzi into the chamber where Pei Xingjian had been resting. When he re-emerged, he was impeccably clad in an outer robe adorned with intricate golden pine and vine motifs.

Qingzi’s eyes lit up.

Lin Ting, catching the unexpected expression, felt his eyelashes flutter. "This couldn't possibly be His Majesty's clothing too, could it?" He hadn't brought spare clothes for the trip—after all, who could have foreseen him losing his footing and tumbling into the pond?

Qingzi nodded. "Eunuch Zhao specifically instructed this servant to bring it before we departed." He had been puzzled earlier; His Majesty had grown taller, and his old clothes no longer fit. Why bring them along? Now he understood: they were prepared for Lord Lin.

Indeed, the robe fit Lord Lin perfectly.

Lin Ting pressed his lips together, suddenly feeling awkward and self-conscious in the garment.

Just then, Pei Xingjian returned, accompanied by Eunuch Zhao.

Spotting them, Lin Ting approached and stood before Pei Xingjian. "Thank you, Your Majesty, for saving my life. And—" He glanced down at his robe, which still faintly carried a lingering fragrance. "—thank you for lending me these clothes."

Dressed in vibrant golden-yellow, he appeared radiant and striking. Pei Xingjian couldn’t help but gaze at him for a few extra moments before saying, "We have no further use for this robe. You may keep it."

Lin Ting felt uneasy. His home already housed several garments bestowed by the emperor. Was Pei Xingjian treating his residence like a collection point for discarded clothes? If this continued, he could practically open a museum of imperial fashion.

"My wardrobe is quite ample already. I shall have it laundered and returned."

Pei Xingjian’s gaze deepened, his tone chilling slightly. "No need. We have no use for it."

Then did *he* have a use for it? Lin Ting thought Pei Xingjian’s habit of having others wear his old clothes was rather peculiar. Who in the court hadn’t seen the outfits Pei Xingjian wore as a prince? Parading about in them so openly might not be a good look.

But since Pei Xingjian insisted, Lin Ting had no choice but to accept.

-

Once the religious observances concluded, the group prepared to return by carriage.

Lin Ting had arrived with Pei Xingjian, so naturally, he followed behind him on the way back.

By then, the sun had set, and twilight was descending.

Under the dimming golden light, Nanxiang Temple had few remaining visitors. Several canopied carriages stood ready at the temple gates, and servants hurried to place footstools as their masters emerged.

Just as Pei Xingjian was about to board, he encountered Empress Dowager Xie.

Her countenance was already stormy, but it darkened further upon seeing the emperor.

Pei Xingjian acknowledged her with the barest nod before turning to the carriage. Lin Ting suspected that if not for the need to maintain decorum, Pei Xingjian might have pretended not to see her.

"Emperor." Unexpectedly, the empress dowager called out to him.

Pei Xingjian, who had just lifted his foot, set it back down and turned his head indifferently. "Does the Empress Dowager have business?"

His narrow eyes, slightly narrowed, were tinged with faint bloodshot streaks. When he fixed his gaze directly on someone, it carried an undercurrent of danger.

Empress Dowager Xie was startled but maintained her composure. "This one heard you executed several palace maids and eunuchs?"

Pei Xingjian’s voice held neither inflection nor emotion. "And if I did?"

The empress dowager’s tone sharpened. "This is hallowed Buddhist ground. Excessive cruelty is unacceptable. If those servants committed no unforgivable crimes, it would be best for the emperor to show leniency."

Pei Xingjian’s lips curled slightly. "Those servants dared to shatter the peach blossom nectar the Empress Dowager gifted me, ensuring I could not drink a single drop. Is that not an unforgivable crime, considering your gracious intent?"

The empress dowager found herself speechless.

Lin Ting silently retreated behind Eunuch Zhao.

*Heavens—* it seemed his judgment was correct. Their relationship was worse than he thought.

After a moment’s thought, he realized: the emperor knew the empress dowager had poisoned him, and the empress dowager knew the emperor knew. Were the two engaged in some veiled contest of wills?

As the saying went, *when the city walls blaze, the fish in the moat suffer.* He’d better keep his distance, lest the flames spread to him again.

With that in mind, he edged backward cautiously.

By the time Pei Xingjian finished watching the empress dowager board her carriage and turned around, he found someone had retreated all the way to a banyan tree by the temple gates, as though avoiding contamination.

His breath came heavier. "Why are you hiding so far away?"

Lin Ting blinked. *Isn’t it obvious? To avoid getting burned.* But he couldn’t say that outright. After a quick mental scramble, he replied, "This subject noticed Your Majesty and Her Majesty the Empress Dowager were engaged in cordial discourse and wished to leave ample space for your exchange."

*What nonsense.*

Pei Xingjian frowned. Seeing Lin Ting’s reluctance to approach, he suddenly turned and strode over, seizing the sleeve of Lin Ting’s robe and dragging him toward the carriage.

Eunuch Zhao watched transfixed. In his decades of serving the emperor, he had never seen His Majesty personally fetch someone.

Qingzi and the other attendants outside were so startled they immediately lowered their heads.

Lin Ting was also struck dumb. In a daze, he was pulled into the carriage.

The interior was filled with a subtle, refined fragrance. The central seat was cushioned with soft padding. Lin Ting hesitated at the entrance for a moment before the comfortable cushions drew him inward.

The carriage was spacious—unlike the one they’d taken back to the capital before, this one was even larger. The interior was lined with silk brocade, and an exquisitely crafted round table stood in the center, already set with pastries.

Lin Ting could scarcely contain his admiration. *As expected of the emperor’s carriage—the very picture of imperial opulence.*

Once everyone was aboard, the carriage began its stately procession back to the capital.

Pei Xingjian sat in the center, with Eunuch Zhao and Lin Ting on either side.

Eunuch Zhao remained as motionless as carved jade, tucked into his corner. Unless the emperor spoke, he wouldn’t utter a word. Pei Xingjian, meanwhile, had kept his eyes closed since boarding, in quiet contemplation. Occasionally, when the carriage lurched over uneven ground, Lin Ting swayed unsteadily, only to glance back and find Pei Xingjian sitting perfectly composed.

Lin Ting grew restless. While the other two seemed preoccupied, he surreptitiously raised a corner of the curtain beside him. Instantly, the outside world came into view.

Their carriage was positioned toward the rear of the procession. Ahead were the vehicles of imperial relatives, while behind them marched a phalanx of imperial guards. Lurking in the periphery were several Tianxuan Guard operatives.

Just then, the rustle of fabric sounded nearby. Lin Ting swiftly released the curtain, only to see the emperor still resting against the carriage wall, eyes closed, hands resting on his thighs—even in repose, his bearing remained regally composed.

Lin Ting couldn’t help but admire him. *Being emperor means eternally vigilant about one's bearing. I could never manage it.*

But he didn’t dare lift the curtain again. According to Eunuch Zhao, Pei Xingjian was an exceptionally light sleeper, and noise from outside could easily wake him.

Now, with both the emperor and Eunuch Zhao resting, they were apparently wearied.

Lin Ting sat for a while before slipping a hand into his sleeve, rooting about until he produced a volume of fiction. Sleep was out of the question now. With nothing else to do, he decided to peruse the unfinished tale while the other two dozed.

The carriage maintained its stately progress toward the city.

After an unknown length of time, the carriage came to a halt, and a palace attendant's voice sounded from outside: "Your Majesty, we have arrived at Lord Lin's residence."

Lin Ting instantly rolled the novel into his sleeve the moment the attendant spoke. Pei Xingjian opened his eyes just in time to catch the swish of his sleeve.

He stared at the sleeve for a moment before saying, "You may go."

Lin Ting looked through the carriage curtain and saw the main gate of the Lin residence directly ahead, with Zhang Ji already waiting at the entrance.

He had actually been brought all the way to his door.

Lin Ting pressed his lips together and rose, saying, "Thank you, Your Majesty, for seeing me home."

Pei Xingjian leaned back in the carriage and answered with a tired 'hmph'.

Lin Ting stepped down from the carriage using the footstool and watched as it drove away toward the palace gates.

Only when the carriage had completely vanished from sight did he turn and step through his own gate. As he entered, he absentmindedly reached into his sleeve—

And froze.

"My lord, what's wrong?" Zhang Ji asked in concern, seeing his master suddenly frozen in place.

Lin Ting took a slow breath and gradually withdrew his hand, his face filled with despair. "It's over, it's over. I've committed a terrible mistake."

Zhang Ji nearly slipped in shock. "What?!"

Lin Ting took a few steps inside before suddenly crouching down and clutching his head.

Aaaah! How could he have left his novel in the carriage?! The contents, the contents...

-

The carriage had already traveled some distance when Zhao Dehai noticed a thin novel lying on the floor. The cover depicted a sword and a flute entwined together—not exactly wholesome imagery.

His heart skipped a beat. Oh no, Lord Lin...

How could you be so careless?

His intense stare and telling expression caught Pei Xingjian's attention, who then noticed the fallen book.

Zhao Dehai hurriedly tried to explain on Lord Lin's behalf: "Lord Lin is truly studious." With the fastest speed he could muster, he rushed over, scooped up the book, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it into his sleeve.

Ah, another favor owed to Lord Lin.

But to his surprise, Pei Xingjian suddenly grew interested and extended a hand. "Hand it over."

Zhao Dehai's jowls trembled. "Ah?"

Trembling, he retrieved the book and placed it in the emperor's hand.

Mourning silently, he thought, Lord Lin, you must be more careful in the future. Though he didn’t know the contents, the cover alone suggested it was nothing decent.

Pei Xingjian flipped through the pages expressionlessly, his deep eyes growing colder by the second. Occasionally, he let out an ambiguous snort at certain parts, making Zhao Dehai’s heart race with fear.

Finally, Pei Xingjian closed the book and handed it back to Zhao Dehai. "Have someone return it to him. Then, pick out a copy of the *Heart-Cleansing Sutra* from my treasury and send it over as well."

Zhao Dehai, baffled, cautiously turned a page—and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

This... this wasn’t just an improper novel. This was clearly, unmistakably about... an emperor and his minister...

Cold sweat broke out on Zhao Dehai’s back halfway through the thought. No wonder His Majesty looked as if his eyes had been sullied.

Though Great Yong had always upheld wholesome traditions, and since the founding emperor, folk writings had never been banned—but had it perhaps... gone a bit too far?

-

With a heavy heart, Lin Ting allowed Zhang Ji and the other servants to help him change and wash up before finally turning in early.

Exhausted from the day, he needed proper rest—tomorrow, he’d have to figure out how to face Pei Xingjian.

Just as he was about to blow out the bedside candle, a shadow darted past the window.

Lin Ting shouted, "Who—" before his mouth was abruptly covered.

Lin Ting: ??? What the hell, is someone trying to assassinate a court official?!

The figure in black pulled down his mask, revealing a familiar face.

"Qingshan?" Wasn’t this the guy normally stationed on his roof? Why had he come down now?

Qingshan pulled out a familiar novel from his robes. "Eunuch Zhao told me His Majesty ordered me to return this to you, my lord."

The familiar cover glimmered in the candlelight, the sword and flute seemingly entwining before his very eyes.

Lin Ting’s face turned slightly red as he quickly snatched it. "Thank you."

Clutching the book, he suddenly whispered, "Did His Majesty read it?"

Qingshan shook his head. Eunuch Zhao had instructed him not to let Lord Lin know the emperor had seen the contents. "I don't know."

Lin Ting tsked. The emperor had now become Schrödinger’s emperor.

He flipped through the pages rapidly—the dog-eared pages were still folded, seemingly untouched. Somewhat relieved, he thought, *Hopefully, His Majesty doesn’t know what’s inside.*

With a wave of his hand, he said, "You may leave now."

Qingshan bowed and withdrew, his eagle-eyed gaze wide with shock. His vision was far sharper than most, and though Lord Lin had flipped quickly, he’d still managed to see the contents—leaving him shocked.

This book had been given to Lord Lin by His Majesty... and His Majesty had read it...

When the next shift of Tianxuan Guard arrived, they found him standing there dumbfounded on the roof like a dumbstruck goose.

"Vice-Commander Qing, what’s wrong?" one asked.

Qingshan turned stiffly and said slowly, "We might be getting a royal consort soon."

The other guard: "Huh?"