Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The Young Marquis broke out in a cold sweat; his hands and feet turned icy.

The Emperor was precisely as described in the book—sinister, unpredictable, casually oppressive, and unquestionably the apex of unhinged, domineering personalities. And such a man happened to be the sovereign—the Son of Heaven—wielding supreme authority over the entire realm, holding absolute power over life and death for all his subjects.

By this point in the interrogation, Luo Qianyu took a deep breath and had no choice but to steel himself and confess: “Your subject visited Cold Mountain Temple.”

The Emperor asked, “Why did you suddenly go to a temple?”

Why *had* he gone to a temple?

He certainly couldn’t admit that Sun Shi suspected his younger brother in the Imperial Guard had drawn vengeful spirits—and that his visit to Cold Mountain Temple had been specifically to exorcise them, could he?

The pressure was overwhelming. Luo Qianyu subtly averted his gaze, fixing his eyes instead on the carved dragon motif at the corner of the low table, and answered through gritted teeth: “In reply to Your Majesty, your subject went to the temple… to pray for success in the upcoming metropolitan examination.”

The Emperor set down his teacup, stared at him for a brief moment, then spoke in a languid tone: “Three years ago, you sat the provincial examination and performed well—yet you did not sit the metropolitan examination the following year. Why have you now decided to attempt the spring examination?”

The Emperor asked, “Do you wish to become an official?”

Luo Qianyu paused.

He reflected inwardly: the original owner’s lazy, spoiled reputation was already deeply entrenched—and the Emperor, naturally, knew it best. Becoming an official aligned with the plot *and* served to placate both the Marquis and Sun Shi. Yet neither reason could be voiced aloud. His demeanor must not appear abnormal—nor could his attitude seem negligent. This question was simply too difficult to answer!

After a moment’s hesitation, Luo Qianyu lowered his head and replied cautiously: “Your subject dares not harbor such extravagant hopes. Yet having received Your Majesty’s grace and enjoyed the Emperor’s patronage, it is only right to remain loyal in service to the sovereign. If granted the opportunity to share Your Majesty’s burdens and resolve difficulties, your subject is willing to exert every effort.”

During the silence that followed in the imperial study, Luo Qianyu stole a glance at the Emperor’s expression—and vaguely sensed he had just barely cleared this hurdle.

“Since you went to the temple—a place originally pure and serene, devoted to Buddhism—how did it become a den of poisonous miasma?” The Emperor lowered his eyes and actually let out a low chuckle. “I ask you once more: how did your cold come about?”

Luo Qianyu’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.

He could only gamble—bet that the Emperor didn’t know he’d been to Cold Mountain Temple; bet that the Emperor remained unaware of his poisoning, his mistaken identity as Wen Yu, and his abduction. Luo Qianyu looked up, his voice tinged with a trace of confusion and innocence: “Your subject also does not know he was poisoned. I only suffered a persistent high fever, a splitting headache, and felt as though my entire body burned with fire. After several days of agony, it was excruciating… And fearing Your Majesty might suspect your subject of feigning illness to shirk study, I forced myself to endure.”

“Since Eunuch Wang detected an anomaly in your pulse, perhaps it stemmed from indulging in street food a few days prior—accidentally consuming something unclean. Combined with bathing late and catching a chill, and then being overwhelmed by the temple incense, this illness ensued. I beg Your Majesty to investigate thoroughly.”

Since transmigrating into the Young Marquis’s body, this was the first time the original owner—accustomed to luxury and defined by a domineering, arrogant temperament—had softened his voice to explain himself to another person. He had no idea whether it would work.

Emperor Sheng Yuan’s voice remained calm and unruffled as he asked, “On which day did you visit Cold Mountain Temple?”

The Young Marquis paused to think, then said, “The eighteenth of last month.”

“How coincidental. On the very day you visited Cold Mountain Temple, the Prime Minister’s painted pleasure boat was attacked on West Moon Lake.” The Emperor gave a slight nod, emitted a quiet scoff, and asked in a deep voice, “West Moon Lake lies directly behind Cold Mountain Temple. Were you aware of this incident?”

Luo Qianyu’s heart skipped a beat.

*Damn.*

It was *him* and Wen Yu!

That night, amid the chaos, the masked man had mistakenly abducted him. Because he’d been wearing a beaded curtain dress, he couldn’t resist provoking that Lin bastard at every turn. Once his disguise was stripped away, he’d simply spoken plainly—and said many inflammatory things… That scoundrel Lin Jingyan knew the kidnapped courtesan was *him*, and likely even guessed that Wen Yu had been the one who rescued him.

With experts in pursuit, several boats capsized; both men fell into the water—causing such a massive commotion. Lin Jingyan, harboring resentment toward him, how could he possibly *not* report this matter to the Emperor?

So why was the Emperor suddenly asking about it? Was he testing him—or did he truly not know?

What should he do now?

Was he to gamble again—that Lin Jingyan hadn’t spoken?

Would that old man really let such a rare opportunity to trip up the Young Marquis slip by?

Luo Qianyu pressed his lips together, hardened his heart, and shook his head: “Your subject is unaware of this matter. When I opened my eyes, I had already been brought back to the mansion by my household servants. What transpired in between—your subject was unconscious, knows nothing, and remembers nothing.”

…

Sensing the Emperor’s gaze resting upon him—a gaze that felt less like scrutiny and more like meticulous tracing—he couldn’t help but privately speculate that perhaps, once again, he’d narrowly escaped disaster.

What was even more unexpected was that the Prime Minister had *not* betrayed him.

Luo Qianyu lowered his eyelids—suddenly realizing.

So that was it. Lin Jingyan must be harboring the intention of “storing up strength for a decisive strike at the crucial moment.” He likely intended to use this incident as leverage—biding his time to wield it later as a threat against him, delivering a critical blow.

Truly worthy of being a calculating old man—far more capable of enduring what ordinary people cannot.

Seeing the Young Marquis quietly drift into thought, the Emperor faintly frowned, leaned back on the dragon throne, and spoke in a detached, magnetic voice: “Do you know why I summoned you today?”

Luo Qianyu was taken aback. He pondered for a few seconds, then said, “It concerns the matter of the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy.”

After all the twists and turns, this was indeed the main event of the day. Though the Young Marquis’s misdeeds were too numerous to count on one hand, the single incident that had truly stirred the court was precisely this one.

The Emperor leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable—making the atmosphere only more unsettling. His voice was casual, yet carried hidden pressure: “Since you are aware in your heart, I shall spare the effort of interrogation. Confess it yourself.”

Luo Qianyu’s Adam’s apple moved.

The prepared confession speech he’d rehearsed earlier in the carriage inexplicably stuck in his throat. Just as he was about to speak, the words suddenly caught there.

…No—he saw it clearly now.

It wasn’t because a different soul now inhabited the body. Regardless of whether he’d transmigrated or not, the so-called childhood-friend dynamic between the Young Marquis and the Emperor was utterly meaningless.

Speaking of Emperor Sheng Yuan—he was the emperor with the most humble origins in nearly a century. Whether in common alleyways or within the imperial court, it was widely known: his mother had originally been a songstress from the Jiangnan water towns.

That year, the late Emperor traveled south to Jiangnan and happened upon this woman. Amid mist-shrouded willows, painted bridges, and elegant curtains, they spent a brief time together. When the late Emperor returned to the capital, he cast aside this fleeting romance—completely forgetting about it.

Time passed leisurely—and in the blink of an eye, seven years elapsed. Coinciding with the late Emperor’s second southern tour, when he revisited the old place, that infatuated songstress—having endured who-knew-how-much hardship—somehow discovered where the late Emperor was and located the imperial vessel amidst the vast waters.

Strangely enough, this frail woman—who couldn’t even secure a small boat for transport—resolutely leapt into the water and swam desperately toward the imperial vessel. Even as guards tried to stop her, she cried out frantically, her voice choked with tears, clutching a young child and declaring she sought recognition from the late Emperor.

But she possessed no token of proof; her looks had aged considerably; and as a songstress, her status was exceedingly low. No one believed her child was of imperial blood. Unexpectedly, when that thin, shivering boy—soaked in lake water—appeared before the late Emperor, those magnificent red eyes left everyone stunned on the spot.

It turned out the late Grand Emperor also possessed such distinctive red eyes.

Because of those eyes, the boy was permitted to remain in the palace. And that pitiful Jiangnan songstress—before the late Emperor even began his journey back to the palace—had her mouth and nose covered, was bound inside a sack, and thrown into the icy autumn lake, where she perished.

After the boy was brought back to the palace, because during the initial recognition he’d had no small boat for transport and had been forced to swim alongside his mother to seek his father, a favored consort of the late Emperor suggested he be given the name *Que Wuzhou*.

At that time, the Crown Prince was named *Que Jinyu*.

*Jinyu*—“Jade of Dignity”—embodied preciousness, dignity, and elegance; *Wuzhou*—“Boat Without Mooring”—conveyed destitution and hardship.

Such names—diametrically opposed as clouds and mud—seemed like a foreshadowing of fate. From the moment he entered the palace, their statuses were destined to be worlds apart.

And by this time, the Young Marquis had long frequented the palace—studying and practicing martial arts alongside the princes. But the person he sought out was *not* Que Wuzhou—it was the Crown Prince.

So how could they possibly be considered childhood friends? At most, they had merely grown up within the same palace walls.

Palace rumors and gossip never ceased. He had heard more than once about other princes bullying and humiliating Que Wuzhou. There was even a time when he personally witnessed the young Emperor’s wretched state after falling into the water.

Later on, there was the palace coup three years ago. By now, most of those who had witnessed Emperor Sheng Yuan’s fallen state were already dead… Luo Qianyu was one of the few still alive.

Thus, the emperor held no affection whatsoever for the Young Marquis and certainly wouldn’t take his side.

What good would his repentance do? Even if he talked a blue streak, punishment today was unavoidable.

Luo Qianyu felt discouraged and deflated, noticing the emperor’s eyes glinting with impatience. He thought to himself, unless he could seize the moral high ground, leaving the emperor speechless and grinding Director Li into the dust… but that was too difficult—he was no silver-tongued censor.

Wait—moral high ground?

Luo Qianyu’s heart gave a slight jolt. He lowered his gaze and clenched his palms.

The surroundings were so quiet one could hear a pin drop, with only his slightly trembling breaths faintly discernible.

The Young Marquis remained silent at first.

After a long while, the Young Marquis, who had been as still as a statue, finally lifted his eyes—now rimmed with red.

Beneath the shadow of his lashes, they appeared veiled by a thin mist of moisture.

The emperor was visibly taken aback.

“Your Majesty,” the Young Marquis’s voice also trembled slightly, as if suppressing something, he whispered, “Have you ever heard the lines: ‘Though born aloft, hard to be fed; In vain I hate my wasted breath. At the fifth watch my song seems dead; The green tree feels no grief at my death’?”

Without waiting for the emperor’s response, Luo Qianyu continued, his tone filled with anguish and indignation, “Director Li actually used this poem to allude to His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“…What?”

“After getting drunk, Director Li spouted wild words, implying… that His Highness the Crown Prince’s defeat was inevitable, that he had nothing but foolhardy bravery, insufficient ability, merely putting up a futile last stand, and deserved to die.”

Each word fell with weight and clarity.

“That day, I already exercised restraint and only burned his beard.” A flicker of dark malice passed through Luo Qianyu’s eyes. He took a deep breath, his voice trembling with apparent resentment, “To show such disrespect toward the Former Crown Prince, who defended the imperial city and sacrificed his life in the face of disaster—according to past precedents, the crime warrants death by a thousand cuts, public display of the severed head in his hometown, and exile of his family beyond the borders. Only then could my hatred be slightly assuaged, and only then could the spirit of the late Crown Prince be appeased!”

With that, he bowed his head and pressed his forehead heavily against the ground.

“I beseech Your Majesty to uphold justice for me, and for the late Crown Prince!”

His words were sincere and impassioned. Although he himself held no affection for the Former Crown Prince, the original owner of this body was different—it was widely known that the Young Marquis had grown up by the former crown prince’s side, treasuring him like the apple of his eye.

If he wanted to break the deadlock, Que Jinyu was a perfect excuse.

The emperor clearly hadn’t anticipated this scene. He narrowed his eyes slightly, his expression becoming somewhat inscrutable.

His knuckled fingers pressed against his forehead, massaging his temples—a rare show of a headache.

It was as if he were seeing countless old censors stroking their beards, fearless and spitting as they spoke.

After a long while, he finally sighed deeply and said in a solemn voice, “If what you say is true, We will certainly uphold justice, thoroughly investigate this matter, and show no leniency.”

“Considering Director Li has served the court for many years with diligence and merit, We shall show extraordinary mercy and spare his life. However, if he truly committed such a disrespectful crime, while the death penalty may be waived, punishment cannot be avoided. He shall be immediately stripped of his official position, subjected to a strict investigation and punishment, to serve as a warning to others. You previously burned his beard and vented your anger—does that somewhat ease the hatred in your heart now?”

Luo Qianyu knew when to stop. He quickly replied, “Very much so, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

…

The Young Marquis kept his eyes lowered, a faint redness appearing on his forehead. When he had kowtowed earlier, it had sounded somewhat forceful, but in reality, it was quite light—compared to his impassioned speech, it was like raindrops hitting a rock or an ant comparing itself to a great tree. Who would have thought it would start showing redness so quickly, as if he had truly been punished by the emperor.

Though his heart still felt unsettled and adrift, it was no longer as easily startled by the slightest disturbance as before. Luo Qianyu pondered to himself, now that the biggest hurdle was over, did tonight count as having weathered the storm?

Just as his tense nerves began to relax slightly, the emperor’s next words, spoken out of the blue, struck like a thunderbolt beside his ear, causing the Young Marquis’s shoulders to tremble.

“We heard you recruited a personal guard.”

Luo Qianyu: “…Yes.”

How does he even know about this?!

The emperor tilted his head, glancing at him sideways, and asked leisurely, “What’s so special about this new guard? We don’t believe We’ve ever treated the Luo family poorly. Is the manpower at the Marquis’s estate insufficient for you, to the point that you can’t even muster a guard?”

Luo Qianyu’s heart tightened. He hurriedly bowed his head and said, “Your Majesty, please understand—that’s not the case. The Marquis’s estate has ample manpower. It’s just that I happened to see this guard’s exceptional martial skills and, struck by a desire to recruit talent, brought him into my service.”

The emperor suddenly let out a cold laugh. “How exceptional must his martial arts be for you to barge into someone’s courtyard and snatch him by force?”

He actually knows everything!

Luo Qianyu froze in place, unconsciously clenching his palms until his fingertips went numb.

Oh no, oh no—how is he going to talk his way out of this one?

Tonight, the Young Marquis had too many charges against him, and the emperor was settling them one after another like raindrops. Not to mention the original owner, even he himself was already overwhelmed. The previous few matters could barely be glossed over, but the issue of Wen Yu was undeniably a downright thuggish act—forcing the beauty to carry him back to the estate was him, leading guards to break into the protagonist shou’s home was him, using a contract to seize someone was also him. There wasn’t even room for excuses or making amends.

How could he not have thought of it? The emperor was the buy-stock gong with the most screen time in the book—how could he not ask about Wen Yu?

The emperor lowered his gaze to look at him, his eyes captivating and piercing:

“Luo Qianyu, who gave you the audacity to take the son of a convicted official and keep him by your side, serving you closely?”

This tone clearly carried anger. The eunuchs in the imperial study immediately knelt to the ground.

A palace attendant who had been tidying the teacups trembled, splashing warm tea onto the floor. He hastily wiped it with his sleeve but didn’t dare lift his head.

Seeing this situation, the Young Marquis felt his heart turn cold and also kowtowed.

Tonight is going to go badly!

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came from outside the door. Before the Young Marquis could react, someone suddenly knelt beside him.

A faint, cool breeze brushed past.

Luo Qianyu’s pupils contracted. He instinctively turned to look, and the next moment—

He met a pair of beautiful eyes.