Raising Wolves CHAPTER 22

 

 Raising wolves  

 Chapter 22

Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN

Lu Qingzheng looked utterly sincere: "How could that be?"

After finishing his act, he remembered that he was wearing a mask, so Cheng Wen'ang couldn't see his feigned sincerity. He regretfully shelved his acting skills and said solemnly, "I’m just fulfilling my duties. Minister Cheng should understand that only with boundless reverence for our ancestors can we perfect the drawings."

Cheng Wen'ang couldn’t understand at all.

He angrily retorted, "If you thought the first version was acceptable, why didn’t you say so earlier!"

All his painstaking efforts to revise the drawings day and night had been in vain!

Lu Qingzheng tilted his head slightly, feigning innocence: "Perhaps because the first version still had some imperfections. Look, this part needs to be bigger, more prominent, and that part needs to be shifted a bit to the right."

Fuming, Cheng Wen'ang snatched the drawings and stormed off to make more revisions.

Chen Xiaodao, who had been stifling his laughter nearby, finally burst into unrestrained guffaws once Cheng Wen'ang was gone: "Minister Cheng is always so sarcastic around you, Young Master. Serves him right this time!"

Lu Qingzheng felt his behavior as a demanding client was a bit too much. Sipping leisurely from his teacup, he skimmed the tea leaves and said, "Actually, I didn’t want to do this."

But Cheng Wen'ang had walked right into it.

Chen Xiaodao plopped down beside Lu Qingzheng, poured himself a cup of tea, and took a big gulp, only to grimace at the bitterness: "Ugh... Young Master, His Majesty’s birthday is coming up. Are you going to stay in the palace for a few days again?"

He was used to it by now—either Lu Qingzheng would be summoned to the palace by some means, or the emperor would sneak out to visit the Lu residence himself.

Lu Qingzheng pushed a plate of tea cakes toward Chen Xiaodao, removed his mask, and nodded with a smile: "I’ll leave the household affairs to you."

Even though Chen Xiaodao had long grown accustomed to Lu Qingzheng’s face, he still found it somewhat dazzling and scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

His young master was so handsome—he should have been the most popular bachelor in the capital. Yet, the rumors outside grew increasingly absurd. At first, they said Lu Qingzheng wore a mask because his face had been scarred. Later, it was said that he was born hideously ugly, with a terrifying visage that could scare children into tears, which was why he always wore a mask and never showed his true face.

What young lady would be interested in him after hearing such rumors?

Chen Xiaodao sighed heavily, fretting over Lu Qingzheng’s marital prospects to the point of losing hair.

Thanks to Lu Qingzheng’s deliberate delays, progress in the Ministry of Works was sluggish. The imperial mausoleum repairs hadn’t even begun when Ning Juan’s seventeenth birthday arrived.

On the sixteenth day of the fifth month, the capital was bathed in bright sunshine. A grand evening banquet was held in the palace, with all officials invited to attend along with their families.

The situation in Jiangxi remained uncertain, but that didn’t stop everyone from celebrating the Qianyuan Festival with great enthusiasm.

Lu Qingzheng entered the palace alongside the other officials, waiting until the evening banquet to make his appearance.

The court officials were roughly divided into three factions: the Wei faction, the young emperor’s faction, and the fence-sitters. The Wei and imperial factions were clearly demarcated, with the latter being fewer in number on the surface. As soon as Lu Qingzheng appeared outside the palace gates, several familiar ministers came up to greet him, quietly discussing recent rumors circulating in the capital.

Fan Xingyan arrived a step late. Seeing everyone engaged in lively chatter, he held back his own news, wearing a silly grin and looking like he was bursting to speak.

Lu Qingzheng glanced at him: "What’s the matter, Brother Fan? If you have something to say, just say it. No need to hold back."

Fan Xingyan’s smile widened uncontrollably, growing even more foolish: "It’s nothing much, just... I’m going to be a father!"

The group erupted in laughter: "Congratulations, Brother Fan!"

Lu Qingzheng also smiled and offered his sincere congratulations. Behind his mask, only his sharp jawline and faintly red lips were visible, but that alone was enough to captivate.

The others couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret: back in the day, Imperial Tutor Lu had been a strikingly handsome young man. If his face hadn’t been scarred, how could he still be unmarried?

The conversation unwittingly shifted from Fan Xingyan to Lu Qingzheng, with someone asking cautiously: "Brother Lu, when do you plan to marry and start a family?"

"..." What does that have to do with me?

Guoguo, lend me your name for a moment.

Lu Qingzheng smiled faintly: "I am His Majesty’s teacher. The emperor has yet to come of age, and with matters of state taking precedence, how dare I consider personal affairs?"

Everyone was deeply moved: "Lord Lu..."

"If His Majesty knew, he would surely advise Brother Lu to marry first!"

Lu Qingzheng found this utterly exasperating. Just then, he caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye and quickly said, "Gentlemen, please go ahead. I’ve spotted an acquaintance and need to greet them."

With that, he extricated himself and walked to a secluded corner, approaching a guard stationed there. "Young Master Qin," he greeted.

Qin Yuan'an, lost in thought, was startled by the sudden address: "Lord Lu!"

Lu Qingzheng smiled. "What were you thinking about so intently, Young Master Qin?"

Such polite questions were usually brushed off with vague answers, but Qin Yuan'an, with his stern expression, replied honestly: "An old friend has fallen seriously ill and is feeling down. I’m a bit worried—not neglecting my duties intentionally."

Lu Qingzheng raised an eyebrow.

A seriously ill friend? Was it the one he was thinking of?

Wei Herong and Qin Hui had long parted ways, but it seemed their children’s friendship remained unaffected.

If Wei Qiao could see his old friend and cheer up a little, Wei Herong probably wouldn’t object.

Lu Qingzheng suddenly felt he’d found a breakthrough. His smile grew even more amiable, though he didn’t press further, only saying casually, "As someone who’s been ill for years, I’ve learned a thing or two about medicine. In my opinion, being cooped up at home when sick only worsens the mood and the illness. If you have time, take your friend out for a walk—it might help."

Lu Qingzheng had nearly lost his life in the eunuchs' water dungeon years ago. Since then, his health had been precarious, his body frail and perpetually carrying the scent of medicine. Even now, he remained as thin as paper, as if out of breath after three steps. His words carried undeniable credibility.

Qin Yuan'an thanked him earnestly.

Since Qin Yuan'an was on duty, it wouldn’t do for others to catch him chatting. Without saying more, Lu Qingzheng turned and left.

Shortly after taking his seat, Ning Juan arrived.

Ning Juan disliked this annual birthday ritual intensely.

But this year was different—in previous years, Lu Qingzheng had been too ill to attend, often confined to Qianqing Palace, waiting for Ning Juan to return after the banquet.

This year, Lu Qingzheng’s health had improved significantly. With him present, even the most unremarkable faces in the crowd seemed more tolerable.

Except for Lu Qingzheng and a few senior officials who were exempt from kneeling, the rest of the courtiers prostrated themselves in unison.

As he passed Lu Qingzheng, Ning Juan couldn’t resist stealing a glance at him. Only after receiving a sharp sidelong glare did he reluctantly turn his head back and ascend to his seat, commanding everyone to rise.

Next came the presentation of gifts from the officials.

In addition, there were tributes from regional princes and vassal states. Lu Qingzheng’s gift was a painting he had created himself—unremarkable amid the dazzling array of offerings.

Yet Ning Juan was delighted, offering his first genuine smile of the evening.

As the courtiers quietly debated whose gift was the most ingenious, a piercing cry suddenly echoed through the hall, silencing the chatter.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and even Wei Herong glanced over with interest.

A cage was wheeled into the hall, containing a stunning snow-white gyrfalcon with brown speckles. Despite its weariness, its sharp eyes remained fierce. The announcer proclaimed, "Presented by Ulzii, the Third Prince of the Tatars: a gyrfalcon, in celebration of His Majesty’s birthday!"

This was Lu Qingzheng’s first time seeing a live first-class protected animal. His mind involuntarily supplied three words: how illegal.

Ning Juan, too, was intrigued by the gyrfalcon.

The Minister of War, seated near Lu Qingzheng, muttered disdainfully, "The Tatars haven’t paid tribute in two years. Only after General Shi defeated them at the northern frontier half a month ago did these savages learn to grovel."

"I heard the old Tatar khan has been bedridden for two years. Now, power rests with this Third Prince Ulzii—a mere brat, no match for General Shi."

Amid the murmurs, someone frowned and said, "But I heard General Shi was ambushed on the battlefield..."

"Nonsense! How could those Tatars possibly ambush General Shi?" another retorted immediately. "Every victory at the frontier comes with such baseless rumors."

Lu Qingzheng frowned.

In the original story, General Shi’s death was due to a hidden poison he’d been struck with, compounded by years of campaigning in the harsh northern frontier and accumulated ailments.

If they could find the young heir sooner, perhaps the general’s fate could be rewritten?

After the gift presentations, the banquet officially began.

Ning Juan’s gaze lingered on Lu Qingzheng, wishing the event would end so they could speak privately.

Lu Qingzheng, feeling as if his mask might melt under the intensity of that stare, shot another warning glance, silently urging the young emperor to rein it in.

As their eyes locked in silent communication, Grand Secretary Xu suddenly spoke up: "Your Majesty is now seventeen. It is time to consider enriching the imperial harem and continuing the royal lineage."

Lu Qingzheng: "..."

Why bring this up now?

With Grand Secretary Xu leading the charge, many officials chimed in, all echoing the same sentiment: Your Majesty is no longer a child; it’s time to select an empress and consorts.

Both the Wei faction and the imperial faction hoped Ning Juan would soon establish his harem and fill the palace with their candidates.

Ning Juan instinctively glanced at Lu Qingzheng, irritation flaring. His voice turned icy: "The imperial mausoleum was recently damaged by rain. I dreamed of our ancestors weeping and reprimanding me—marriage is ill-advised for the next three years. If anyone disagrees, take it up with them at the mausoleum."

The courtiers were stunned into silence: "........."

What kind of excuse is that?!

How can you drag the ancestors into this?!

Lu Qingzheng, who’d been about to help defuse the situation, nearly laughed aloud.

Truly his student, learning well from him.

Cheng Wen'ang, still traumatized by the endless revisions: "?"

Why did His Majesty’s words feel eerily familiar?

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

Ning Guoguo: I’d rather die, jump off a cliff, than marry or take an empress!

Lu Qingzheng: Applause!!!

All teachers and students are equally shameless (just kidding).

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