Chapter 17

Prince Anrong had always believed in sharing beauty.

So, he gave the youth in his arms a slight push.

“Bao’er, go offer the Grand Tutor a toast!”

Bao’er shyly glanced at the handsome Grand Tutor, only to find that he was staring straight back at him.

Summoning his courage, he put on a bright smile, walked over, and sat beside the Grand Tutor, saying in a delicate voice, “Grand Tutor, Bao’er toasts you.”

He hadn’t expected that the renowned Marquis Dingguo—Grand Tutor Wei—would have such an astonishingly striking appearance.

His brows and eyes were like a painting, truly mesmerizing.

Bao’er blushed as he softened his posture, leaning slightly toward the Grand Tutor.

Meanwhile, Lord Shang Ningxuan found himself swallowing the shattered remnants of his teeth, which he had nearly ground to dust earlier.

He could only watch as the Grand Tutor smiled, accepted the wine cup, and casually wrapped an arm around the rabbit-like youth who had leaned in.

Sisters, no wonder you’ve lost favor—some things are simply lacking from birth.

Fortunately, after drinking, the Grand Tutor sent Bao’er back to Prince Anrong’s table.

Even when the prince bluntly suggested sending Bao’er to the Grand Tutor’s residence for the night, he declined with a smile.

Otherwise, Shang Ningxuan, as the elder brother-in-law, would have completely lost both dignity and face.

At the end of the banquet, the Grand Tutor made no comment on the lavish spread of fish and meat.

Instead, he merely pointed to the plate of honeyed fruit served as a hangover remedy.

“This honeyed fruit tastes quite good—I haven’t had it before.”

The shopkeeper, who had personally served the dish, quickly explained, “It’s a specialty from Yufang pavillion in Jiangnan. They recently opened a branch in the capital, so I specifically instructed my staff to buy some for the esteemed guests to try.”

The Grand Tutor nodded slightly, signaling the end of the banquet.

He then used the excuse of a headache from drinking to leave early.

Pity the Deputy Minister of War—despite hosting the feast, he hadn’t managed to exchange even a single word with the Grand Tutor.

Instead, as the Grand Tutor was mounting his horse to depart, he unexpectedly turned back to reassure Shang Ningxuan.

“You should be aware of the recent movements among the court ministers, Ningxuan. I, too, feel sorry for Xiang’er, but state affairs take precedence. I could not afford to embarrass His Majesty. This was unavoidable. If you have the time, visit my residence and see Xiang’er—offer her some comfort. A husband and wife shouldn’t let a mere servant sow discord between them.”

Shang Ningxuan felt an immediate sense of relief.

While cursing his sister for being thoughtless, he quickly agreed.

Back at his residence, Grand Tutor Wei ordered a hot bath to be prepared.

Dismissing his personal attendants, he entered the bath alone and scrubbed himself thoroughly.

The encounter at the restaurant had truly sickened him.

He understood perfectly well what Shang Ningxuan had been getting at today.

That Deputy Minister was nothing more than a fickle opportunist, a man who always calculated his interests precisely.

The deployment of troops to Pingxi was something the Grand Tutor had planned exclusively with his trusted veteran commanders.

Shang Ningxuan would only be informed at the last possible moment, when there was no other choice.

Once he eradicated the cancer that was Anxi, he would naturally shake up Shang’s deeply entrenched influence within the Ministry of War as well.

But for now, it was necessary to keep him appeased—better to avoid unnecessary complications.

What he hadn’t expected was to run into that fool, Prince Anrong, outside the restaurant.

He had already planned to plant elite operatives within Pingxi, but today, an opportunity had practically delivered itself right to his door.

Still, the way he had indulged that little plaything earlier—half of it was for appeasement, but the other half was a test.

A test for himself.

He was well aware that he harbored improper thoughts toward the young emperor.

At first, the realization had shocked and infuriated him.

But after some inner turmoil, he had come to accept it.

Yet, even now, the idea of taking a man beneath him left him feeling vaguely unsettled.

So today, when Prince Anrong conveniently presented a ready-made test subject, he decided to use the opportunity to find out: Was it that he simply liked beautiful boys?

However, when Bao’er leaned in close—despite the layer of fragrant powder on his face—his pores were still faintly visible.

The low neckline of his robe revealed a faint Adam’s apple, and beneath the collar, a plain, unremarkable chest.

It was utterly repulsive.

And when that boy finally nestled into his embrace…

At that moment, if not for the greater scheme of things, the Grand Tutor truly wanted to grab that rabbit-like youth by the collar and hurl him straight out of the window.

Having been tainted by such a stench, he naturally had to come back and cleanse himself thoroughly.

Yet upon reflection, it seemed he still preferred women more.

At least he hadn’t lost his masculine instincts.

Perhaps it was because the young emperor was still in his youth, not yet fully developed like his peers, and his delicate features had stirred improper thoughts.

But once the Dragon Pearl grew an Adam’s apple like that boy and sprouted stubble, his interest would surely fade.

With this realization, he felt a great sense of relief—this fleeting lapse in judgment would resolve itself in due time, like an ailment that required no cure.

After bathing, he changed into fresh clothes.

Just then, the Bureau of Armaments delivered the newly adjusted small bow.

The Grand Tutor pondered for a moment before ordering Chief Steward Liu to send someone to the newly opened Yufang pavillion to buy some exquisite honeyed fruit and pastries.

Placing them in a food box, he had his attendants carry it as he set off for the palace.

It was rare for him to have free time today.

Ordinarily, he would have called for a few concubines to pass the time in leisure.

But now, no one could stir his interest except for the young emperor.

A single day without seeing the Dragon Pearl left him restless with longing.

By the time he arrived at the palace, it was already afternoon.

Without waiting for an eunuch to announce his presence, he entered the courtyard, only to find that the young emperor was not in his chambers but outside, playing with a cat.

The little Dragon Pearl was dressed in a blue satin coat lined with white fox fur.

He was reaching out toward a cat that had climbed onto a plum tree branch.

The tree was in full bloom, its crimson flowers weighed down by the fresh snow from the night before.

As the mischievous cat clawed at the branches, the fragrant petals fluttered down, dusting the snow-covered ground.

The sight delighted the child beneath the tree, who burst into laughter.

“A face as radiant as peach blossoms”—for the first time in his life, Wei Lenghou truly understood the meaning of this poetic imagery.

The emperor had yet to suppress his laughter when he turned his head and saw the Grand Tutor standing at the courtyard gate.

Since there was no court session today, the Grand Tutor was not in his formal robes.

He wore a simple black garment, his broad-brimmed hat casting a shadow over his striking face.

His tall figure stood against the snowy backdrop, causing everyone in the courtyard to hold their breath.

Nie Qinglin exhaled slowly, glancing at the eunuchs and palace maids who had dropped to their knees, their spirits seemingly drained from terror.

She felt a twinge of guilt: You all suffer alongside me. The mere sight of this King of Hell has scared your souls out of your bodies.

At this hour, what new storm is the Grand Tutor planning to stir up?

Unaware of the emperor’s thoughts, the Grand Tutor noticed the slight pause in his expression and mistook it for the bashful reaction of a young boy seeing his beloved.

His cold, impassive face softened with a faint smile.

He stepped forward, reached up, and gently lifted the white cat from the tree branch, placing it carefully into the young emperor’s arms.

Then, he wiped the snowmelt from the boy’s cheek.

“It’s cold after the snow, Your Majesty. Don’t play too long, or you’ll catch a chill.”

Nie Qinglin quickly thanked the Grand Tutor for his concern and allowed herself to be led by the hand back to her bedchamber.

Once inside, Wei Lenghou ordered a finely crafted long wooden box to be brought forward.

Opening the lid, he said, “Spring will arrive in a while. I’ve been thinking that Your Majesty has been cooped up in the palace for too long, so I plan to take you hunting in the outskirts of the capital. I had this small bow custom-made for you—see if it suits you.”

Nie Qinglin hadn’t expected such an exquisite gift from the Grand Tutor.

She was genuinely surprised and flattered.

After thanking him, she picked up the bow and attempted to draw it, albeit somewhat clumsily.

Seeing her awkward stance, the Grand Tutor asked, “Has Your Majesty never learned archery?”

Nie Qinglin chuckled sheepishly.

“I was often sick as a child. I only attended one archery lesson before requesting leave. I never completed my training with my elder brothers. I fear I’ll disappoint you on the hunting grounds.”

The Grand Tutor looked down at the young emperor, who was stroking the bow with a reluctant gaze.

With a smile, he said, “That’s no trouble at all. I have some knowledge of archery—I can instruct Your Majesty myself.”

With that, he ordered a target to be set up in the courtyard.

He also had the emperor draped in a fine snow-white mink cloak and a matching hood before the two of them stood in the snowy courtyard to practice the art of shooting down a leaf from a hundred paces.

For a prince, mastering the six Confucian arts—ritual, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics—was essential.

Not a single one could be neglected.

When Nie Qinglin first entered the study hall, she was extremely diligent in her studies.

At that time, she was still young, and like any child, she had her own little ambitions.

Since her mother consort was not favored, she wanted to earn some dignity for her.

Unexpectedly, despite being the last prince to begin formal education, she proved to be exceptionally intelligent and quick-witted, capable of drawing inferences from a single example.

She even outperformed her elder brothers, who had already been studying for some time.

This earned her high praise from Grand Secretary Wu, who exclaimed, “This child is teachable!”

However, when this good news reached Consort Li’s ears, she was met with a harsh punishment upon returning to the palace—her mother consort struck her palms.

“We walk on thin ice in this palace, only seeking a life of stability—what need is there to stand out? Now that you’ve made yourself so conspicuous in the academy, do you truly see yourself as a prince, ready to compete for the position of crown prince? You might as well kneel before the Emperor right now, admit that you are a girl, and ask for three feet of white silk to end it all—then at least your mother won’t have to live in constant fear!”

The swelling on her hands did not subside for days, and even holding a teacup sent waves of pain through her fingers.

But she learned her lesson—she extinguished her competitive spirit.

From then on, she deliberately arrived late and left early, secretly flipping through amusing idle books instead of focusing on her lessons.

When answering questions, she deliberately spoke nonsense, completely mismatching answers to questions.

This infuriated Elder Wu to the point that he sighed toward the heavens—”A rotten piece of wood cannot be carved!”

Looking back now, her mother consort had been right.

In the unstable position she occupied within the imperial family, mastering the Six Arts was no safeguard for survival.

Instead, it was the art of concealment that had to be studied with unwavering determination—binding one’s head to a beam and pricking one’s thigh with an awl, as ancient scholars once did.

Now that the Grand Tutor was personally teaching her, she had to take this art of concealment even more seriously.

Besides, archery was not her forte.

After several attempts, her wooden arrows flew in all directions, scaring the palace maids and eunuchs into stepping back for fear of becoming casualties under their emperor’s hand.

And yet, despite being infamous in court for his icy demeanor and intimidating presence that made ministers tremble, the Grand Tutor showed an astonishing amount of patience in his role as a tutor—far more than the esteemed Elder Wu had ever displayed.

After correcting her posture multiple times without success, he simply moved behind her, extending his long arms to wrap around her from behind, guiding her hands as he instructed, “Your Majesty, relax your arms, or else the arrow will tremble and lose its direction. Lean into my embrace and take your time to aim…”

Nie Qinglin could only feel the warmth of his breath against her ear as he spoke, sending an itch straight into her ear canal.

Yet she couldn’t dodge or flinch away.

Her thoughts wavered for just a moment, and in that moment of distraction, her arrow veered wildly off course—straight toward Snowball, who had been pawing at the scattered arrows nearby.

The startled cat let out a sharp meow and bolted straight into the main hall, refusing to come back out.

The palace servants lowered their heads, stifling laughter at Snowball’s misfortune.

But An Qiao’er, standing to the side, broke out in a cold sweat.

According to ancient etiquette, when a minister and a monarch practiced archery together, the minister was to stand beside the ruler, a respectful distance of one foot behind.

But this Grand Tutor was no virtuous minister—he was the foremost of sycophants! That he would practice archery alongside the emperor was not surprising, but… when had the emperor ever been this close to him?

An Qiao’er, though still ignorant of the intricacies between men and women, was older and had spent long enough in the palace to witness how the Emperor favored his concubines.

She could recognize the way a man looked at a woman when his desire had been ignited.

No matter how many times she blinked, she couldn’t deny it—there was something terribly wrong with the way the Grand Tutor looked at the emperor!

His eyes were overflowing with indulgence and tenderness.

The way he held the emperor in his arms carried an unmistakable air of possession, a kind of arrogance that declared, “You are mine, and I will have you.”

That was not the gaze of a sycophantic minister toward a puppet emperor.

This… What in the world was happening?

Could it be that the Grand Tutor had already discovered the emperor’s true identity as a woman?