Raising Wolves CHAPTER 16&17

 

 Raising wolves  

 Chapter 16&17

Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN

   Chapter Sixteen

Lu Qingzhi massaged with great care.

Those jade-like, slender fingers appeared delicate and weak, but the pressure they applied was neither light nor rushed. Moving from the calf to the knee with practiced ease, his technique was skilled.

Ning Juan felt both comforted and tormented, his heart fluttering uncontrollably, as if sitting on pins and needles.

When Lu Qingzhi was a child, he often stayed by his grandfather’s side. The elderly man frequently suffered from back and leg pain, so Lu Qingzhi learned to massage and honed his skills. He looked up and asked, “Does it feel better now?”

Looking up from this angle was somewhat dangerous. Ning Juan, flustered, shrank back on the couch and nodded silently.

Seeing the future tyrant, who in the original story had beaten the protagonist into fleeing and killed without batting an eye, now acting pitiful and shy like a timid bride, Lu Qingzhi couldn’t resist teasing him mischievously: “What are you hiding from? Even if I see it, I wouldn’t laugh at you.”

What was there to laugh about?

Ning Juan’s ears burned with embarrassment, and he snapped, “Teacher!”

Lu Qingzhi calmly stood up, fetched the clean clothes placed outside the screen, and handed them to Ning Juan: “Dress yourself.”

With that, he leisurely walked away.

Ning Juan sat where he was, taking a deep breath.

Only when the sound of footsteps completely faded did the tension in his muscles gradually ease. The blush of embarrassment on his face faded into calmness, as if all emotions lost their reason to exist the moment Lu Qingzhi left.

Ning Juan changed his clothes by himself and stepped out of the room.

The guard waiting outside bowed his head: “Your Majesty, Lord Lu is waiting for you in the study.”

Ning Juan gave a faint “Mm” and quickly headed toward the study.

While waiting for Ning Juan, Lu Qingzhi brewed a pot of tea.

It was this year’s tribute of pre-Qingming tea, emerald green in color, fragrant and mellow in taste. Ning Juan frequently sent people to deliver gifts, and last year’s tea hadn’t even been finished yet.

Before long, Ning Juan arrived. Lu Qingzhi looked up with a smile, but his words paused slightly as he took in the sight.

The young man stepping into the room stood tall and straight, dressed in a striking sapphire-blue round-collared robe that accentuated his handsome features and noble bearing, hinting at the grace he would possess in the future.

One moment, his face was cold and aloof; the next, it broke into a smile as he黏糊糊地 (stickily) leaned in: “Teacher, are you going to test my studies?”

Lu Qingzhi snapped out of his thoughts and nodded: “Sit.”

Ning Juan obediently sat down.

During the assessment, Ning Juan answered fluently as usual. Seeing Lu Qingzhi’s smile, he seized the opportunity to voice his true purpose for the visit: “Teacher, during the Dragon Boat Festival in a couple of days, could you stay in the palace and keep me company for a few more days?”

In previous years during the festival, Lu Qingzhi had either been bedridden with old illnesses or down with a cold, unfortunately absent and unable to accompany Ning Juan.

The young emperor, spending such a lively holiday alone in the palace, must have felt very lonely.

After a brief consideration, Lu Qingzhi nodded in agreement.

Ning Juan gazed at the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye and suddenly felt an immense anticipation for this year’s Dragon Boat Festival.

On the morning of the festival, Lu Qingzhi struggled out of bed early and put on the court robes he had rarely worn.

If he hadn’t taken out these clothes, he might have almost forgotten that he was, after all, a first-rank official.

Even if it was only in title.

The court robes were troublesome to put on, requiring Chen Xiaodao’s help to get dressed properly.

Once dressed, Chen Xiaodao stepped back and looked him up and down, praising, “Young Master, these robes suit you so well! You look really good in red. Let’s have the tailor make a few more sets in red, okay?”

“No!” Lu Qingzhi refused vehemently. “Too eye-catching.”

Chen Xiaodao chuckled but didn’t press further.

After all, once His Majesty saw it, he would surely think the young master looked good in red and have some sent over.

The Forbidden City had been decorated early in the morning, with calamus and mugwort placed outside every palace gate. Carriages crowded outside the palace walls as officials chatted and laughed, creating a lively bustle.

Upon arrival, Chen Xiaodao looked around for a parking spot when a light cough caught his attention. The imperial guard commander, whom he had befriended, was on duty today and discreetly pointed out an empty spot without looking his way.

Chen Xiaodao grinned: “Thanks, thanks. Let’s grab a drink sometime.”

A true social butterfly.

Inside the carriage, Lu Qingzhi played with his mask, smiling as he put it on.

Lu Qingzhi’s position in the court was somewhat unique—while he currently held no real power, his reputation was immense.

Whether it was his success in the imperial examinations, his bold remonstrance against the eunuch faction when others remained silent, or his insistence on tutoring the young emperor and secretly facilitating his attendance at court sessions, many officials admired him.

Though more people thought he was missing a screw, having studied himself silly to dare provoke Wei Herong.

But whether admired or mocked, everyone knew of this imperial tutor who had raised the young emperor. It was said that the young emperor held him in great respect and trust, their teacher-student relationship a celebrated tale.

However, due to Lu Qingzhi’s poor health, he was rarely seen in public.

As soon as the Lu residence’s carriage arrived, everyone turned to look, eagerly awaiting a glimpse of this legendary imperial tutor.

The hand that lifted the curtain was pale, a sickly, almost translucent pallor.

His health really was poor.

This was everyone’s first thought.

Then Chen Xiaodao helped the young man out of the carriage. The crimson court robes were embroidered with cranes, and a jade belt adorned his waist. Though his frame was slender, his posture was steady, standing as gracefully as the crane on his robe, his demeanor as serene as the moon. Even from the side, his refined and elegant bearing was evident, sparking curiosity.

But when he turned around, his face was hidden behind a cold silver mask.

It was said that to protect the emperor, he had accidentally disfigured his face, leaving it hideous and grotesque, hence the emperor’s permission to wear the mask in court.

Everyone belatedly remembered this detail, feeling a pang of regret.

The exact sentiment was hard to describe, but three words echoed in their minds: What a pity.

?

Why was everyone gathered here?

Lu Qingzhi instinctively touched his mask, confirming it was securely in place, then glanced around to see what everyone was staring at.

The officials: “...”

The silent atmosphere quickly dissipated as everyone resumed their conversations and headed into the palace as if nothing had happened.

Lu Qingzhi told Chen Xiaodao to go home and catch up on sleep, exchanged pleasantries with the officials who greeted him, and after just two steps, found someone blocking his path, eyeing his mask with a disdainful snort.

Lu Qingzhi glanced at him: “Lord Cheng, is there something you need?”

This was Cheng Wen’ang, the same official who had once tipped him off about the Prince of Shu’s movements. Over the years, he had made a point of asserting his presence whenever possible.

Every time they crossed paths, he would inevitably jump in, boasting one day about “the blueprints I’m responsible for are very important,” and the next about “I’ve earned the minister’s favor,” making Lu Qingzhi suspect he had just graduated from elementary school.

Even when he had received gold stars in kindergarten, he hadn’t been this boastful.

Cheng Wen’ang cleared his throat, ready to launch into another boast, but before he could speak, Lu Qingzhi remarked mildly, “The silver pheasants on your court robes are quite lovely. Bigger than my cranes, even.”

First-rank officials wore cranes; fifth-rank officials wore silver pheasants.

Cheng Wen’ang: “...”

One sentence was all it took to silence him.

Nearby officials who had been waiting for the show stifled their laughter and quietly walked away.

Cheng Wen’ang choked for a few seconds before erupting in impotent rage, blurting out, “What use is a titular position? It can’t compare to the Duke of Wu!”

The Duke of Wu?

The title sounded familiar. As Lu Qingzhi pondered, Changshun’s voice came from the side: “Lord Cheng, this year’s Dragon Boat Festival, the Duke of Wu is again stationed at the northern frontier and won’t return. I heard you’re distantly related to the Duke, thirty-two branches removed? I’m honored too, since my surname is also Cheng—perhaps we’re only twenty-three branches apart!”

The sarcastic tone was so biting that nearby officials stifled their laughter as they passed.

Cheng Wen’ang completely lost his composure and stormed off in a huff.

Lu Qingzhi chuckled softly: “Changshun, your wit has sharpened.”

Changshun smiled and stepped closer to Lu Qingzhi: “His Majesty has been talking about you since last night and sent me to fetch you.”

Lu Qingzhi wasn’t surprised and nodded, following Changshun.

Changshun was a veteran by Ning Juan’s side, now holding a high rank. Many officials addressed him respectfully as “Eunuch Changshun,” but he remained humble in Lu Qingzhi’s presence: “Lord Lu, should I inform His Majesty?”

He was referring to the matter with Cheng Wen’ang.

Lu Qingzhi smiled: “No need.”

Though Cheng Wen’ang was always sour and competitive, his heart wasn’t entirely bad, and he provided some amusement in idle moments.

Changshun ought to have reported this to the young emperor, but his years of experience in the palace gave him an instinctive sense that doing so would lead to dire consequences.

So he chose to heed Lu Qingzhi’s advice.

...After all, His Majesty would listen to Lord Lu anyway, right?

He thought uneasily.

Lu Qingzhi was still mulling over the Duke of Wu. By the time they reached the Qianqing Palace, he still couldn’t recall the duke’s role in the original story, likely having missed it. He could only seek help: “Changshun, what do you know about the Duke of Wu?”

Mentioning the Duke of Wu, Changshun’s tone couldn’t help but fill with reverence: “The Duke of Wu is the bravest and most formidable general of Great Qi! With Grand Marshal Shi guarding our borders, the Tatars and Oirats can only bow their heads in submission. But the old marshal hasn’t returned to the capital in years. I’ve heard it’s because...”

Before he could finish, a clear, youthful voice interjected: “If Teacher wants to know about the Duke of Wu, wouldn’t it be better to ask me?”

Ning Juan had been waiting eagerly outside the Qianqing Palace long before Lu Qingzhi arrived.

Seeing Lu Qingzhi in his crimson robes, his eyes lit up, and he could almost imagine how striking that face would look beneath the mask, enhanced by the vibrant color.

Lu Qingzhi looked up and saw the young emperor in his twelve-chapter imperial robe.

His health was too poor to attend court in previous years, and when he did enter the palace, Ning Juan only saw him in casual attire. This was one of the rare times he saw Ning Juan in full imperial regalia, already exuding the dignity and majesty of an emperor.

Lu Qingzhi smiled as he took in the sight.

Ning Juan unconsciously straightened his back even further.

Ordinary people didn’t dare look directly at the emperor, let so scrutinize him, but Lu Qingzhi’s gaze always left him feeling nervous and flustered.

After a moment, Lu Qingzhi curved his lips: “Then I’ll trouble Your Majesty to enlighten me.”

The rest of his face was hidden behind the mask, making his lips the only visible feature.

Ning Juan’s gaze involuntarily dropped to those slightly upturned lips, as delicate and pink as spring peach blossoms.

Hidden beneath his wide sleeves, Ning Juan's fingers curled slightly as he felt a sudden daze.

How had he never noticed before... his teacher's lips were so beautiful.

Chapter Seventeen

The moment Ning Juan appeared, Changshun tactfully fell silent and led the other palace attendants away.

After the assassination attempt years ago, the attendants of the Qianqing Palace had been replaced once more, all carefully selected by Zheng Yao. Over the years, they had learned that the young emperor disliked being surrounded by people—especially when he was with Imperial Tutor Lu.

Along the way, the festive atmosphere of the Dragon Boat Festival was palpable in every palace, adorned with calamus and mugwort, pomegranate flowers blazing red, and gardenias filling the air with their fragrance. The entire palace was alive with vibrant energy.

Yet the Qianqing Palace was noticeably less decorated.

Lu Qingzhi and Ning Juan stepped into the warm chamber, and Lu Qingzhi glanced around at the largely unchanged interior: "Guoguo, you specifically invited me to celebrate the Dragon Boat Festival, so why is there so little festive atmosphere here?"

"It's all just formalities," Ning Juan replied, tilting his chin up with a hint of disdain.

As a child in the cold palace, he had suffered abuse. After his mother passed, even getting a meal had been a struggle. The palace's celebrations, no matter how lively, had never included him, so he held little sentiment for such festivals.

Even now, the only meaning the Dragon Boat Festival held for him was the chance to invite Lu Qingzhi into the palace and keep him company for a few extra days.

With no one else around, Lu Qingzhi removed his mask and gave Ning Juan a sidelong glance, a faint smile playing on his lips. Slowly, he pulled a five-colored braided cord from his sleeve and dangled it between his fingers: "So His Majesty doesn't like these things? You should've said so earlier. I wasted half a day yesterday learning how to make this with Xiaodao."

Ning Juan: "..."

Ning Juan: "!!!"

The young emperor's expression shifted dramatically, his dark eyes fixed unblinkingly on the cord, brimming with longing and delight. He pressed his lips together, his voice softening: "Teacher..."

Lu Qingzhi pretended not to understand: "It seems Your Majesty truly doesn’t want it. I’ll give it to Changshun later—can’t let the effort go to waste."

Does Changshun have a death wish?!

Ning Juan's face tightened instantly. He wanted to snatch it but didn’t dare reach out, his brows furrowing like an anxious little dog. Despite his intimidating aura, all he managed was a pitiful whimper, tinged with pleading: "I... I want it, Teacher."

Lu Qingzhi raised an eyebrow: "Want what?"

"...I want the five-colored cord you made yourself."

My face hurts. Is this what Teacher meant by 'slapping one's own face'?

But if I can have it, a little face-slapping is nothing.

Lu Qingzhi's eyes sparkled with amusement as he lightly tapped the table: "Your Majesty, you are the ruler of Great Qi. If you want something, take it. The world is yours—there’s no need to beg others."

He couldn’t let a future tyrant turn into a spoiled puppy, only to be led to slaughter and devoured later.

Ning Juan froze, turning the words over in his mind.

If you want something, take it?

Seeing the young emperor lost in thought, Lu Qingzhi motioned for him to sit down. He took Ning Juan's hand and tied the cord around his wrist, instructing, "After the first rainfall following the festival, cut it off and discard it."

Ning Juan gently touched the knot tied by Lu Qingzhi's own hands, then looked up with a bright smile, his eyes shining: "By the way, Teacher, why did you suddenly ask about the Duke of Wu?"

"Well, Changshun mentioned that the Duke of Wu isn’t returning to the capital this year either," Lu Qingzhi recalled. "I’ve never seen Grand Marshal Shi in the capital, and rarely hear anyone discuss him. Why is that?"

The excuse was flimsy—Lu Qingzhi wasn’t one for excessive curiosity.

But Ning Juan simply nodded, accepting Lu Qingzhi's words without question.

"The Duke of Wu’s family has guarded the northern frontier for three generations, their loyalty unquestioned. After his father and elder brother died in battle, the current Duke, Shi Rongfeng, inherited the title as a youth and has defended the north alone for decades. He rarely returns to the capital."

After a brief pause, he continued, "About twelve or thirteen years ago, the Duke stopped returning altogether, sending only his deputy to the capital for reports."

Now genuinely curious, Lu Qingzhi leaned in slightly, listening intently: "Why?"

A faint plum blossom fragrance drifted closer, growing slightly stronger. Pleased, Ning Juan half-closed his eyes: "This matter traces back to an old incident. Twenty years ago, the Duke married a woman from the northern frontier. During childbirth, the Duchess suffered a hemorrhage and passed away, leaving behind a son. The Duke, deeply devoted to his wife, chose to raise the boy himself rather than send him back to the capital, only requesting the title of heir for him."

"When the young heir was five, the Tatars and Oirats launched a joint surprise attack, bringing an army of two hundred thousand to their gates. The northern frontier was thrown into chaos. At the time, the emperor was preoccupied with his pursuit of immortality, and the eunuch faction held great power. The Duke had offended them, and for an entire month, no provisions were allocated. The northern soldiers survived on dead horse meat and buried roots..." Ning Juan’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. "In the end, it was Wei Herong who joined forces with the Ministers of War and Revenue to forcibly dispatch supplies."

Lu Qingzhi was momentarily stunned.

It made sense, yet it was unexpected.

Wei Herong was a shrewd man who understood that when the nest overturned, no egg would remain intact. But for him to personally intervene and force the allocation of military provisions was surprising.

After all, at that time, Wei Herong wasn’t yet the all-powerful Chief Minister. Offending the eunuch faction would have surely brought him trouble.

"Without supplies, the northern frontier was nearly doomed. The Duke secretly dispatched elite guards to escort the young heir back to the capital. But the news leaked, and they were ambushed along the way. With the battle at a stalemate, the Duke learned of the attack but couldn’t leave to rescue them himself. By the time he had a chance to search, it was already too late."

Lu Qingzhi frowned deeply, his chest tightening: "The child died?"

Ning Juan hated seeing him frown. He reached out and gently smoothed Lu Qingzhi’s brow, pausing briefly at the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye: "The guards escorting the heir were all killed in battle. Only the young heir’s body was never found. Apart from the Duke, everyone believed the child had perished—after all, he was only five. In such chaos..."

Perhaps reminded of his own past, he fell silent for a moment. "The Duke searched for his son for years, to no avail, and never returned to the capital. Rumors abound in the capital—some say the Duke was disillusioned with the imperial family, others claim he remained in the north to continue his search."

This unsavory incident had been suppressed by Emperor Chong’an, so few knew the details, and even fewer dared speak of it.

After hearing the full story, Lu Qingzhi finally remembered.

No wonder the Duke of Wu had sounded familiar yet elusive.

The Duke never even appeared in the original novel!

There was only a brief mention—when the protagonist was bedridden, a small segment described how he found the Duke’s long-lost child, earning the Duke’s gratitude and support, thus gaining military prestige... Then the Duke died of illness, serving as a mere plot device.

So he was the protagonist’s golden finger.

At this point in time, the protagonist was still a carefree young master in Jiangnan. With Ning Juan no longer destined to become a bloodthirsty tyrant, there was no need for the protagonist to rebel.

Lu Qingzhi thought comfortably, It’s not too much for me to borrow this plotline, right?

Unfortunately, the novel hadn’t specified where the protagonist found the young heir. But there was a general region. After a moment of recollection, Lu Qingzhi turned to Ning Juan: "Guoguo, do me a favor."

Such boldness in speaking to the emperor was outrageous, but Ning Juan loved it. He smiled: "Teacher, just say the word."

"Send someone to the Jiangnan region to look for a youth around seventeen or eighteen," Lu Qingzhi instructed. "He has a crescent-shaped birthmark on his shoulder and is highly skilled in martial arts."

Beyond that, he wasn’t sure what other distinguishing features the heir might have.

After all, he’d skimmed through the novel far too carelessly.

Ning Juan’s dark eyes studied Lu Qingzhi for three seconds. Without further questions, he stood and walked outside, calmly instructing Changshun, who was guarding the door: "Summon Zheng Yao discreetly. I have urgent business for him."

Returning to the room, he flashed Lu Qingzhi a sweet smile: "Teacher, have you eaten? The kitchen made zongzi."

Lu Qingzhi: "..."

He pinched the young emperor’s cheek: "Are you wearing two masks now?"

Ning Juan nuzzled into his hand, grinning.

Zheng Yao soon arrived at the Qianqing Palace in secret.

After hearing Ning Juan’s orders, Zheng Yao was about to arrange the search when Lu Qingzhi, who had been sitting quietly nearby, suddenly stood up. He handed over a string of freshly boiled zongzi tied together with a smile: "The description is vague, and the search area is vast. I appreciate your hard work, Commander Zheng. It’s the Dragon Boat Festival, and yet we’re troubling you—have some zongzi."

Zheng Yao, who had served Ning Juan for years and carried out his covert operations, was well aware of the young emperor’s dark possessiveness toward Lu Qingzhi. He inwardly gasped, unsure whether to accept or refuse, and stole a glance at Ning Juan’s inscrutable expression.

After a moment, Ning Juan’s calm voice came: "Since Teacher is giving it to you, take it. Why hesitate?"

...Because I’m afraid you’ll skin me alive!

But Zheng Yao dared not show it. He accepted the zongzi from Lu Qingzhi and bowed slightly: "Thank you, Imperial Tutor."

Having known each other for years, they were somewhat friends. Lu Qingzhi found Zheng Yao’s attitude odd and shot a questioning look at Ning Juan.

The latter was sitting primly, blowing on a cup of hot tea. Once Zheng Yao had left, he pushed the teacup toward Lu Qingzhi, his expression innocent: "Baihao Yinzhen tea—quite sweet and refreshing. Would you like to try it, Teacher?"

Lu Qingzhi: "..."

Still strange.

Is Zheng Yao afraid of this little guy?

Chewing on a zongzi, Lu Qingzhi pondered for a moment before deciding it wasn’t a bad thing.

It was better for subordinates to fear their ruler than to fear nothing at all—as long as it didn’t go too far.

Just then, Changshun knocked on the door: "Your Majesty, Lord Lu, the officials are about to assemble. Shall Lord Lu go first, or will you accompany him?"

Before Ning Juan could blurt out "Together," Lu Qingzhi cut in: "I’ll go first."

He shot a glance at the crestfallen young emperor: "Do you think we’re not conspicuous enough as it is? I’ll come back to keep you company tonight."

Ning Juan’s fragile heart teetered on the edge, his face a picture of aggrieved resignation. As Lu Qingzhi reached for his mask, Ning Juan intercepted it and stood up with a smile: "Let me help you."

The refreshing scent of youth drew near, and Lu Qingzhi instinctively leaned back slightly.

This kid has really grown up.

Back then, when he’d insisted on helping Lu Qingzhi with the mask, he’d had to stand on tiptoe.

Once the mask was secured, Ning Juan reluctantly escorted Lu Qingzhi to the door, watching his retreating figure until it disappeared.

The person Teacher asked me to find... must be the Duke of Wu’s lost heir.

Sometimes, he truly wondered if Lu Qingzhi was a celestial being descended to earth. How else could he know so much—like the stolen jade hairpin from years ago?

Back then, he’d had Zheng Yao track down the thieving maid and interrogate her.

Along the way, he’d asked a few questions about Lu Qingzhi.

Even in her delirium under torture, the maid had insisted she’d only seen Lu Qingzhi from afar once, with no interaction between them.

Yet Lu Qingzhi had somehow known where the hairpin was and retrieved it for him almost immediately.

Teacher has too many secrets.

Though he longed to uncover them all, he couldn’t bear to force Lu Qingzhi to speak.

As the crimson-robed figure vanished from sight, Ning Juan turned away, his thoughts drifting idly.

The crimson robes today added a touch of allure to Teacher’s appearance. It’s fine if only I see it—no one else even gets to imagine it.

His mind wandered further.

Teacher’s skin is whiter than snow. He’d look stunning in red—scarlet, vermilion, pink, apricot... He’d surely look breathtaking in a bright red wedding gown too.

But who in this world is worthy of making him wear one?

Ning Juan lowered his eyelids, his expression blank.

No one.

Author's Note:

Ning Guoguo (tilting head in confusion): I listened to the teacher and took what I wanted myself, but why does the teacher seem unhappy?

Teacher Lu: .

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