Chapter 13

This uncanny resemblance, hiding some dubious secrets behind it, made Lord Grand Tutor’s mind darken like storm clouds, churning like a tempestuous sea.

Yet, the one who had stirred up this trouble sat there as if nothing had happened, wearing his own casual clothes, leisurely eating at the table with unhurried grace.

The loose inner robe only accentuated the small figure’s delicate and dainty frame, making them appear soft and delectable…

At that moment, watching those tiny lips chew on food, Wei Lenghou felt the evil spirit from the dense forest surge within him once again.

Before he could do something he would regret, he forced a grim expression onto his face and abruptly stood up, striding out.

As soon as he stepped out of the room, Chief Steward Liu quickly approached, lowering his voice to ask, “Is the Grand Tutor heading to  Fourth Madam’s chambers?”

He waited for quite some time without receiving a response.

When he cautiously raised his head, he saw the Grand Tutor’s face twisted into a murderous expression, emanating waves of killing intent…

That expression… Chief Steward Liu had seen it before, and he would never forget it.

When was the last time the Grand Tutor showed such an expression? Ah, yes, it was when Wei Lenghou had gone to reward and console the border town soldiers.

The entire town’s people had swarmed out, eager to catch a glimpse of the man who seemed like an immortal from a painting.

At that time, General Wei had stood on a high platform, addressing the town’s people, assuring them that with the court mobilizing troops, their future would be free of fear and uncertainty.

Yet, the moment General Wei left, that very night, the flourishing border town was raided by the Xiongnu, burned, pillaged, and slaughtered—leaving not a single survivor.

When the Grand Tutor rushed back upon hearing the news, he stood amidst the ruins, gazing at the charred corpses of women and children.

The expression he bore then was the same one he wore now—an icy visage brimming with murderous wrath.

At that time, though he was the commanding officer, he had no official orders to deploy troops.

Yet, he bypassed the supreme commander, took five hundred light cavalrymen who volunteered to follow him—each carrying only two days’ worth of rations—and embarked on a thousand-mile assault.

They crossed great rivers, traversed the deadly desert that even locals feared to enter, and, against all odds, looped around to strike at the rear of the Xiongnu Marshal’s camp.

The Xiongnu, caught entirely off guard, had left their rear defenses weak.

That night, the lightning-fast raid was a complete success—he beheaded the Xiongnu Marshal and immediately rode back through the night.

He then hung the enemy commander’s severed head atop the ruined gates of the border town, offering it as a tribute to the countless innocent souls who had perished there.

That battle shattered the enemy’s will and made Wei Lenghou a name to be feared.

Only then did the civil and military officials of the court realize that this scholarly top scorer of the imperial exams was not just a man of literature but also a formidable warrior who could single-handedly hold a pass against ten thousand enemies!

Chief Steward Liu knew all these details so well because he had been personally brought back from the border by the Grand Tutor.

He had once been a minor commander in the imperial guards, but due to his strict military discipline, he offended the Minister Rong’s favored nephew and was dismissed to serve as a common soldier.

Back then, on the battlefield, had Grand Tutor not saved him, he would have been riddled with arrows.

Even so, one of his tendons had been severed, leaving him permanently crippled and unable to exert full strength.

Fortunately, the Grand Tutor did not despise him for being disabled.

Remembering his former valor and talent for management, he took him into the household as the chief steward.

Grateful for the Grand Tutor’s kindness, he had long since regarded his life as belonging to him, dedicating himself wholly to managing the residence with utmost diligence.

Yet, within this harmonious household, why was the Grand Tutor suddenly radiating such terrifying fury?

Chief Steward Liu’s expression immediately grew solemn as well.

He stood with his hands lowered, holding his breath and waiting for the Grand Tutor’s orders.

His thoughts raced: something serious must have happened!

And yet, no matter how much he racked his brain, he could never have guessed—the Grand Tutor’s current turmoil had nothing to do with matters of war or state.

This time, the fortress that had fallen was none other than his own pride as a man.

His defenses had been breached, the flames of desire now raging uncontrollably at the city gates.

And the one who had caused this catastrophe? There was no need for a thousand-mile assault to claim an enemy’s head—this calamity lay right in the Grand Tutor’s own chambers, nestled under the blankets, sleepily rolling about in sweet slumber!

Why had he suddenly developed such ludicrous thoughts about that little good-for-nothing?

At that moment, standing in the courtyard, the Grand Tutor’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

Logic dictated that the best way to resolve this trouble was a single word—kill!

The feet, however, seemed to have grown roots, unable to move no matter what.

After contemplating for a long time and weighing the pros and cons, the Grand Tutor finally withdrew his murderous aura, closed his eyes in silence for a moment, and then spoke:
“Tomorrow, personally prepare the carriage early and send the person in my room into the palace. Also, inform Eunuch Ruan that His Majesty is unwell and will no longer need to attend morning court… Let’s go to the Fourth Madam’s quarters.”

Chief Steward Liu hurriedly lowered his head in acknowledgment, then took out a jade ornament from his pouch and softly said, “Just now, Fourth Madam rewarded me with this…”

The Grand Tutor did not stop walking, only letting out a cold laugh.

“Xiang’er is quite adept at maneuvering, much like her elder brother… If she insists on giving, then accept it. But be careful about what she asks you to do.”

Chief Steward Liu quickly lowered his voice.

“Thank you, Grand Tutor. I understand my place.”

Without looking back, the Grand Tutor entered the room of his newly taken concubine.

By all reason, this should have been a night of passion, waves of silk rolling in ecstasy.

Yet, as Wei Lenghou looked at the new wife he had personally chosen, he found not a single thing pleasing to the eye.

That pointed chin was an eyesore.

That slender frame lacked fortune.

The scent of rouge was overpowering.

Her skin seemed fine, but no matter how he looked at it, it could not compare to the soft, smooth touch he had felt in the forest…

Going through the motions in a flavorless routine, the Grand Tutor soon got up, dressed, and left.

Shang Yunxiang’s face was still flushed.

She had hoped the Grand Tutor would hold her and drift into slumber together.

Yet, to her surprise, her husband rose immediately to leave.

Though inexperienced, she could sense his lack of interest.

For someone who prided herself on her beauty, this realization unsettled her.

With a face full of panic, she quickly got up and asked, “Where is the Grand Tutor going? Did Xiang’er do something wrong?”

Wei Lenghou’s expression remained unchanged, his tone calm as he said, “Xiang’er is fine. I just have matters to attend to in the study. Rest well—I will have the steward send you some nourishing soup tomorrow.”

With that, he left Shang Yunxiang’s chamber and returned alone to his study.

Watching his tall figure disappear through the doorway, Shang Yunxiang felt an inexplicable emptiness in her heart.

When her brother first proposed she marry Wei Lenghou as a concubine, she had hesitated for only a night before agreeing.

Beyond the ambition of one day becoming the ruler of the six palaces, the outstanding appearance of Wei Lenghou had also made her heart flutter.

She had envisioned herself quickly winning favor upon entering the residence with her beauty, yet, in just one night, it seemed that favor had already faded…

In the end, the Grand Tutor probably still preferred her elder half-sister’s poetic talent.

It was infuriating—despite excelling in embroidery, music, and dance, she lacked skill in poetry and prose.

She could only work harder in the future, displaying her literary talent to earn his favor.

While Shang Yunxiang set her sights on becoming a female scholar, Nie Qinglin, on the other hand, was quite pleased.

After spending a night at the Grand Tutor’s residence, she had braced herself for the misery of having to ride in the same carriage with the Grand Tutor back to the palace.

Yet, to her surprise, the next day, the Grand Tutor was nowhere to be seen.

She was escorted back to the palace in a well-prepared carriage, only to be informed that, from that day forward, she would no longer need to attend morning court or study sessions.

Nie Qinglin was momentarily stunned.

But when she realized that the towering figure no longer appeared in her sleeping quarters at mealtimes, she let out a sigh of relief.

Thinking about it carefully, she felt rather satisfied—her days would finally be a bit more carefree.

Thus, she hid away in the palace, pestering An Qiao’er to make her delicious snacks while leisurely flipping through newly delivered storybooks of talented scholars and beautiful maidens from the Inner Service Bureau, idly passing her time in comfort.

However, after a single morning of absence, the court erupted in turmoil.

When the emperor still failed to appear after three days, the ministers were all left restless, their minds filled with speculation.

Back when the Grand Tutor orchestrated the palace coup, he executed his signature “lightning” strike—blood filled the palace, but the slaughter stopped within its gates.

Outside, the official announcement remained uniform: the late emperor had passed away.

Rumors ran rampant in the streets, yet the historical records solemnly stated that Emperor Wei Ming had succumbed to illness—reasonable and unquestionable.

The court officials all knew the truth, but none dared to speak it aloud.

Though Wei Lenghou had swiftly executed a few outspoken dissenters to establish his authority, some stubborn old ministers still remained, loyal to the Great Wei.

Thus, on the fourth day, the imperial court was in an uproar.

Leading the charge was Lord Wu Jinglin of the Hanlin Academy, an upright and outspoken scholar.

In fact, he had once been the tutor who first introduced the current emperor, Nie Qinglin, to his studies.

During the coup, the old man had been so enraged that he fell ill and remained bedridden at home.

Now that he had finally recovered, he happened to catch wind of recent events—how the Grand Tutor had stormed the palace at night and abducted the emperor.

Furious, the old scholar donned mourning clothes beneath his court robes and, holding a memorial in his hands, knelt before the empty dragon throne, fiercely impeaching the Grand Tutor.

Wei Lenghou lounged on the dragon-carved chair, absentmindedly rubbing his neck.

He had spent the past few nights in the study, poring over the terrain of Pingxi.

It wasn’t until dawn the previous day that he had caught a short nap on the soft couch, and now his neck felt stiff and uncomfortable.

Only after Wu Jinglin, gasping for breath, finished reciting his lengthy accusations did Wei Lenghou leisurely respond,”Grand Secretary Wu, you seem quite unwell. Since I was entrusted by the late emperor with the duty of educating the young sovereign, it is only natural that I devote myself to the task. Our dynasty’s founding emperor won his throne on horseback, and martial prowess has always been valued. His Majesty is occupied with studies during the day, so what harm is there in practicing horsemanship during the night when he has free time? Is this truly reason enough for you to wear mourning robes and cause such a scene in court?”

Wu Jinglin’s sparse goatee bristled with fury.

“That night, the entire court heard the commotion on the long street—who among us did not? In the dead of winter, in the deep of night, do you expect us to believe that His Majesty was so eager to hone his martial skills that he rode out with you drunkards? If His Majesty is well, why has he not attended morning court for days? Today, I will risk my life to see the emperor! If some villain dares to keep him hidden, then I will storm the palace gates myself, no matter the cost!”

With that, the frail old man flung open his robes, revealing the mourning garb beneath, and began running toward the exit.

He barely made it a few steps before two guards lifted him high off the ground.

His thin legs kicked helplessly as he cursed all the way, eventually being carried out through the Meridian Gate.

Eunuch Ruan, watching from the side, muttered to himself, “Grand Secretary Wu, you should have just stayed home and rested. Stirring up trouble like this—it’s hardly a way to bless your children and grandchildren.”

Unexpectedly, the Grand Tutor’s reaction was quite mild.

He merely said that Wu Jinglin had acted inappropriately in court and should be confined to his residence for reflection.

He was also fined three months’ salary—beyond that, there was no thunderous punishment.

As they left the court, Lu Yuda followed closely beside the Grand Tutor, puzzled.

“Grand Tutor, that old man refuses to yield—why not simply behead him?”

Seated in the study, Wei Lenghou continued rubbing his neck and replied,”Scholars may be utterly useless, but the stubborn ones are a different breed. Grand Secretary Wu enjoys a sterling reputation in court. He was never favored by the late emperor, but his loyalty is beyond question. A man like him, holding a meaningless post and nearing retirement, can stir no great waves.If I were to kill him now, I would only grant him posthumous fame for his unyielding devotion—meanwhile, I’d lose standing in the hearts of scholars across the empire.”

Hearing this, Lu Yuda suddenly saw the bigger picture and felt even more admiration for his Grand Tutor.

Such a brilliant figure, both scholarly and martial, capable of strategizing and commanding—if he doesn’t sit on the throne, who else could?

That scrawny little chick of an emperor?

And those so-called great Confucian scholars who claim to have mastered the classics and histories—if they can’t even see this simple truth, then they’ve lived all these years in vain.

But Lu Yuda did not know that the great figure he so admired was actually in a terrible mood.

That night, he had suddenly come to his senses and resolved to see less of that little useless brat.

Yet, before he could shake off the habit, that little troublemaker—who had been hiding in the sleeping quarters these past few days, idling away and indulging in food and drink—had already brought him such a storm.

With the campaign to pacify the west about to commence, the court officials’ hearts must not be left unsettled!