Raising Wolves CHAPTER 25

 

 Raising wolves  

 Chapter 25

Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN

   Chapter 25

"The embankments along the Ji’an Prefecture burst, flooding several villages downstream. Countless drowned, corpses floating for miles."

The first sentence alone made both Lu Qingze and Ning Juan’s expressions darken.

As the Minister of Revenue had said, the southern regions suffered annual floods, constantly requesting imperial funds for relief and river reinforcement. Millions in silver taels had been poured into these projects—yet they resulted in nothing but shoddy work.

And this was before the rainy season had even arrived.

Clearly, those silver taels had lined someone’s pockets rather than being used on the riverbanks.

Ning Juan’s expression was unreadable, his fingertips lightly tapping the table. "Continue."

The scout lowered his head further. "The south is growing increasingly hot. As I was returning, an epidemic broke out. Pan Jingmin, the governor of Jiangxi, ordered most of the region sealed off. It took considerable effort for me to get in and out."

The consequences of Emperor Chong’an’s neglect of governance were now apparent—local officials paid mere lip service to the new emperor, hiding disasters to protect their own careers.

Any memorials from Jiangxi had likely been intercepted by Wei Helong.

Ning Juan slammed his teacup down. "How dare they!"

Even someone as composed as Lu Qingze felt fury rising in his chest. He took a deep breath. "What is the current situation in Ji’an Prefecture?"

"Replying to Your Excellency, it is heavily guarded. Ordinary people cannot enter or leave freely. Only those with a travel pass stamped with the governor’s seal are permitted."

In the eyes of those officials, this was just another routine matter—after all, it was the commoners who suffered, not them.

Reporting it to the court would only bring them trouble, so why not conceal it? Their official hats were far more important than the lives of mere peasants.

While they feigned peace and reveled in luxury, countless refugees wandered homeless, sickening and starving in despair.

Lu Qingze glanced at Ning Juan, whose face was like frost, then nodded to the scout. "You’ve worked hard. Go rest for now."

The scout didn’t dare move until Ning Juan coldly repeated, "Dismissed." Only then did he bow and retreat silently.

The Southern Study fell into silence.

Lu Qingze poured Ning Juan a cup of chrysanthemum tea and pushed it toward him, then poured one for himself. "What is the relationship between Wei Helong and Pan Jingmin?"

Ning Juan loosened his tightly clenched fist, veins bulging, and drained the tea in one gulp, his expression calming. "The year Pan Jingmin passed the imperial examination, Wei Helong co-supervised the metropolitan exams as one of the chief examiners."

In other words, Pan Jingmin could be considered Wei Helong’s protégé.

Lu Qingze wasn’t surprised that Ning Juan remembered such connections—the boy had a photographic memory.

Wei Helong’s attitude in the Wenyuan Pavilion now made sense. He was protecting Pan Jingmin.

But it certainly wasn’t out of mentorship. More likely, there were financial ties between them.

Jiangxi had always been prosperous. Given Pan Jingmin’s behavior, he must have amassed considerable wealth there.

Since Wei Helong was involved, he probably didn’t want the court sending anyone down, lest they uncover something. With the young emperor growing older, the faction supporting imperial authority was expanding. Even those not aligned with the emperor might still want Wei Helong removed.

Lu Qingze traced the rim of his teacup, thinking carefully. "But if I were Wei Helong, rather than worrying about the court discovering something, wouldn’t it be better to report the disaster truthfully and send my own people to handle relief openly, treating it as a routine matter?"

After all, floods were almost an annual occurrence in the south. Hiding it would only draw more suspicion, wouldn’t it?

Ning Juan frowned slightly, his lips parting. "This was likely Pan Jingmin’s own decision."

Wei Helong probably wasn’t pleased either, but having missed the chance to act first and facing constraints, he had no choice but to help cover it up.

So now, if Wei Helong realized they were sending someone to investigate Jiangxi and dispatch relief, how would he react?

—He would either strike first and eliminate Pan Jingmin or send someone to erase the evidence beforehand.

This was a prime opportunity to attack Wei Helong. Neither outcome was desirable, so they had to pretend ignorance for now.

Beyond that, to uncover the collusion between Pan Jingmin and Wei Helong, they needed someone trustworthy and capable to oversee relief while secretly investigating.

Over the years, the two had gathered some reliable officials, but Lu Qingze mentally sifted through them and found none truly suitable—most were elderly civil servants. Sending them on such a long journey would be risky in itself.

Moreover, Jiangxi was likely rife with corruption from top to bottom. This mission wasn’t just about relief—it was perilous for any official.

The Ministry of Personnel was under Wei Helong’s control. Those who passed the imperial exams either joined his faction or were assigned to remote posts. There were few fresh talents to choose from.

After much deliberation, Lu Qingze couldn’t think of a suitable candidate.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on, when suddenly, a cool touch brushed his forehead.

Ning Juan had silently moved behind him and was gently massaging his pressure points, the pressure just right—so practiced that Lu Qingze almost wondered if he had trained for it.

The boy’s voice was calm. "There is one suitable person."

Lu Qingze’s headache eased slightly, his furrowed brow relaxing. He glanced up. "Who?"

Ning Juan’s lips parted, uttering a single word: "Me."

"..." Lu Qingze’s mouth fell open slightly, stunned into a soft, "Ah?"

The expression was utterly endearing.

Ning Juan’s mood improved slightly, a sweet smile appearing. He explained, "The late emperor had a retreat in the south and would travel there every June. My going south wouldn’t raise suspicions."

Pausing, his voice lowered. "Besides, my mother was from the Jiangnan region."

Ning Juan’s mother, Consort Liang, came from a Jiangnan medical family. But after the incident of "poisoning the empress and harming the imperial heir," the Liang family was implicated and scattered over a decade ago.

After ascending the throne, Ning Juan posthumously honored Consort Liang as Empress Dowager Shengmu. Soon, it would be the anniversary of her death.

With his mother’s memorial day approaching, the emperor’s grief and decision to travel south—following precedent—was perfectly reasonable, leaving no room for suspicion.

Ning Juan’s eyelashes lowered, his handsome profile shadowed, his eyes dark with unreadable emotion.

When Consort Liang was framed, he had been an infant, powerless to act.

When he was first thrust onto the throne, and Lu Qingze was harassed by the Prince of Shu, he still lacked real authority.

Wei Helong’s faction was deeply entrenched. A trip to Jiangxi might be a chance to break the deadlock—risk and reward intertwined.

If no one else could be trusted, he would go himself.

Seeing Ning Juan fall silent, Lu Qingze’s heart ached. Thinking the boy was grieving for his mother, he turned and took Ning Juan’s hand, speaking gently, "Alright, we’ll do as you say. It’ll also be a chance to visit your mother’s homeland."

Lu Qingze’s hands weren’t warm.

His health was poor, his constitution weak. Even in the height of summer, his skin remained cool to the touch, like unyielding jade.

But holding his hand, Ning Juan still felt an indescribable warmth.

Unable to resist, Ning Juan bent down and embraced Lu Qingze from behind, burying his face against him and inhaling softly. The faint, soothing plum blossom fragrance eased every aching nerve, filling the hollow in his chest with a gentle calm. His expression softened. "Mm. Before leaving the capital, I’ll arrange matters here and prepare for reinforcements."

While he was away, Wei Helong would undoubtedly grow bolder—but that was precisely what they needed. The more Wei Helong underestimated them, the better.

They also needed someone to monitor the capital’s movements, reporting any developments.

Beyond that, they had to prepare relief supplies... Ning Juan privately wanted Lu Qingze to be the imperial envoy.

But even so, they would be separated for two or three months.

Just the thought made an overwhelming reluctance flood his heart.

He hadn’t even left yet, and he already missed the faint plum blossom scent beside him.

Lu Qingze felt Ning Juan’s arms tightening around him like a cage, but he didn’t resist, letting the boy cling to him for comfort. "The southern expedition will undoubtedly include Wei Helong’s spies. We’ll also need two lookalikes to help us slip away unnoticed."

This time, it was Ning Juan’s turn to freeze. Hesitantly, he asked, "We?"

Lu Qingze pressed a finger against the furry head nuzzling his neck and pushed it away mercilessly, his tone cool. "Obviously. Did you think you could leave me behind in the capital?"

After a moment of stunned delight, Ning Juan shook his head reluctantly. "The journey is long, and Jiangxi is plagued by disease. Teacher..."

"I’m not made of glass. I won’t shatter so easily." Lu Qingze rapped his knuckles lightly against Ning Juan’s head. "Enough chatter. The disaster in Jiangxi is urgent. There’s no time to waste—go make the arrangements."

"But..." Ning Juan still hesitated.

Lu Qingze’s expression darkened, his voice turning stern. "What’s with this dithering? You’re the emperor, not a timid bride. Go do what you must!"

Startled by his tone, Ning Juan instinctively straightened and strode toward the door—only to realize belatedly that this was his study.

Ning Juan: "..."

Changshun stood guard outside. Seeing the door suddenly open and the emperor standing there with an inscrutable expression, he quickly bowed. "What are Your Majesty’s orders?"

After a brief silence, Ning Juan showed no trace of embarrassment at being scolded by his teacher. Calmly, he said, "Summon Commander Zheng Yao, Grand Academician Feng, Vice Minister of Justice Fan Xingyan, Vice Minister of Revenue Zhou Qin... for a secret audience."

Changshun’s heart skipped a beat.

These were all the emperor’s staunch supporters. Ning Juan had never summoned so many at once—something major must be afoot.

But he knew better than to ask. Bowing again, he hurried off to deliver the secret summons.

The officials arrived discreetly after their duties ended, gathering in a side chamber to meet with Ning Juan and Lu Qingze.

By the time they left, night had fallen. Under Zheng Yao’s cover, they slipped out of the palace unseen.

The next morning at court, Ning Juan presented his prepared reasoning and announced his intention to travel south.

The court was instantly in an uproar.

Wei Herong's eyebrows lifted slightly, a strange glint flashing in his eyes.

Why now, of all times?

But according to past customs, it wasn’t unusual for the emperor to travel south at this time. Moreover, given that the young emperor’s birth mother, the Empress Dowager, was from the south, it seemed even more justified.

The courtiers' opinions split into two factions.

Half believed that the young emperor, still so youthful, was already emulating his father’s indulgence in pleasure and debauchery—truly lamentable. These were the emperor’s loyalists.

The other half were overjoyed. The young emperor had just begun to gain some supporters, yet he was abandoning the affairs of the capital to frolic in the south. Delightful news indeed! These were Wei’s faction.

After much debate, a third voice emerged: The emperor’s mother was from the south, and the Great Qi Dynasty had always revered filial piety. The emperor’s mourning for his mother was an expression of this virtue.

Wei Herong remained silent, pondering the young emperor’s true intentions.

But he understood that this matter could not be rejected outright. The only option was to manipulate the composition of the southern entourage.

By the end of the morning court session, Ningjuan’s southern journey was settled.

Originally, the Court of Imperial Entertainments and various officials had planned to discuss with Ningjuan the scale of the procession, the number of people to be arranged, and whom to bring along—a pile of trivial matters that would delay things for at least ten days to half a month. Ningjuan frowned slightly and said coolly, "Keep it simple and arrange it quickly. I don’t want extravagance or waste. Let the Chief Grand Secretary Wei handle it."

The emperor wanted to reach the south before his mother’s death anniversary—no one dared to say this reason wasn’t valid.

Wei Herong sat in his study at the Wei residence, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Did the emperor really say to leave all arrangements to me?"

He had initially been somewhat suspicious, waiting to see the young emperor’s next move. He hadn’t expected the young emperor to suddenly play this card, leaving him somewhat stunned.

To dare entrust the selection of the southern entourage to him—was the emperor truly just going south to mourn his mother?

Also present in the study were the Capital Garrison Commander Fan Wei, Minister of Justice Xiang Zhiming, and others. Their eyes met, and they lowered their voices: "Lord Wei, perhaps we should take this opportunity to..."

Secretly eliminate the young emperor.

In recent years, the young emperor had seemed less obedient than before. And now that the sickly one by his side was also leaving with him...

While the young emperor hadn’t fully matured, replacing him with a three-year-old from the imperial clan would be far better.

Or, better yet, why not go all the way and claim the throne for oneself...

Their thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a teacup being slammed heavily on the table.

Wei Herong glanced at the men before him, feeling a weariness from dealing with fools—these idiots could still be managed, but that fool in Jiangyou, once out of sight, had truly outdone himself in stupidity.

"If the young emperor dies, do you think the various feudal lords—Prince Jing and Prince Shu—will sit still?" Wei Herong still wore a smile, but his voice was icy. "Will the Duke of Wu, commanding troops in the northern deserts, sit still?"

A chill ran down everyone’s spines.

Prince Jing and Prince Shu were troublesome enough, but even combined, they weren’t as fearsome as the Duke of Wu.

The Duke of Wu had lost his father in childhood, and his elder brother had gone to the frontier. Left alone in the capital, the Empress Dowager, pitying him, took him into the palace and raised him, treating him with great kindness.

Perhaps because of this, despite his disillusionment with the court, the Duke of Wu had not rebelled outright. Instead, he had guarded the northern borders for years, with "loyalty" carved into the bones of the Shi family.

If the throne were to change hands, who could say the Duke of Wu wouldn’t march straight back to Yanjing or, worse, open the gates and let the Tartars in?

From Wei Herong’s understanding of the Duke of Wu, opening the gates to the Tartars was unlikely, but General Shi would undoubtedly lead his personal troops on a thousand-mile night march to the capital to take Wei Herong’s head.

The room fell into silence. After a long pause, someone awkwardly ventured, "Then..."

"Follow the emperor’s orders—keep it simple," Wei Herong said calmly, not looking up. "Arrange for people to keep an eye on things, but don’t make it too obvious."

"Yes!"

No matter how quickly the preparations below proceeded, they still took time.

Lu Qingze was anxious, but he knew that Ningjuan had already said all that needed to be said. The more urgent the situation, the more they couldn’t appear rushed.

During these few days, he spent more time in the falconry, keeping the lonely Little Snow company.

The falconer, seeing Lu Qingze arrive, quickly bowed: "Grand Tutor, you’ve come."

Lu Qingze nodded amiably. "How is Little Snow?"

The falconer hesitated.

He still thought the name "Little Snow" was an insult to the majestic and proud gyrfalcon!

Other people’s gyrfalcons were named "General Mighty" or "General Divine Might"... What kind of twisted taste did the Imperial Tutor have?

But since the emperor had approved the name, he could only go along with it. "L-Little Snow has been given the best medicine and is much better now. But for some reason, even though its right claw and left wing aren’t injured, it still limps when walking and can’t fly."

Could it be psychological trauma from previous training?

Lu Qingze pondered as he entered the falconry. Sure enough, he saw Little Snow, released by the falconer, limping on the ground, a far cry from its former sky-dominating majesty. His heart ached at the sight.

Seeing Lu Qingze, Little Snow, disabled yet determined, flapped its wings and lunged forward like a grounded chicken.

Lu Qingze crouched down and tenderly stroked the magnificent bird.

In modern times, this would be a bird that could land you in prison.

Little Snow had grown very accustomed to Lu Qingze’s touch. When petted, it would half-close its eyes and nuzzle its head into his palm.

The feathers of the falcon weren’t soft but thick and warm. As Lu Qingze stroked them, he couldn’t help but secretly compare Little Snow’s head to Ningjuan’s.

Hmm... puppies and birds each had their own merits.

But that aloofness, ignoring others and only rubbing against him—it was so similar to Ningjuan’s temperament.

Lu Qingze smiled faintly when he heard the young emperor’s sour voice behind him: "Teacher is here again."

Ningjuan stepped into the falconry and cast a cold glance at the gyrfalcon, which haughtily raised its head upon his entry.

Lu Qingze gave Little Snow’s head a few more pats before turning around. "What, has everything been settled?"

Ningjuan nodded. "We can set off tomorrow."

At this, a rare smile appeared on his face as he stared at Little Snow. "The falconer said its wings and claws are injured, and it still can’t fly. When we leave Yanjing tomorrow, we won’t take this burden with us."

Lu Qingze: "?"

Why bring this up suddenly? He hadn’t planned to take Little Snow south anyway.

The bird, which had been nuzzling contentedly into his palm, suddenly froze.

Little Snow lifted its head, as if understanding Ningjuan’s words, and let out a sharp cry—then flapped its wings and soared into the air!

Ningjuan: "..."

It had been faking all along.

He’d slaughter this damned bird sooner or later.

Lu Qingze’s eyes widened: "..."

What kind of medical miracle was this?

In the end, the acting prodigy Little Snow wasn’t taken along.

Before leaving, Lu Qingze heard from the falconer that Little Snow, furious at being left behind, had eaten two fewer rabbits in protest.

This journey south would take the water route—first crossing the Yellow River, then following the Grand Canal south, with no planned stops until reaching Lin’an Prefecture.

The only minister accompanying them was Lu Qingze, which surprised no one.

Though the entourage had been streamlined, the emperor’s procession was still grand, with the majority being guards—three hundred imperial guards and three hundred锦衣卫 (Jinyiwei, the Embroidered Uniform Guard), all under the command of the Jinyiwei Commissioner Zheng Yao.

The luxurious multi-story ship had three levels. The guards and attendants stayed on the lower two levels, while Ningjuan and Lu Qingze resided on the top.

Ningjuan disliked being crowded, so even the Jinyiwei could only patrol the second level, and attendants were only allowed upstairs for chores.

Chen Xiaodao was also brought along. Unaware of the true purpose of the trip, he clung to the ship’s railing, constantly peering down, as excited as a little monkey.

Changshun and Chen Xiaodao got along quite well—or rather, aside from Ningjuan, there was no one Chen Xiaodao couldn’t win over. Changshun had specially arranged for Chen Xiaodao to stay nearby, and the two caught up with each other.

As the ship began to move, the cool breeze dispelled the summer heat.

Having risen early that morning, Lu Qingze rested in his cabin after enjoying the breeze for a while. When he awoke, he couldn’t tell how far they’d traveled—the capital’s outline was no longer visible, and the vast river sparkled under the sunlight.

Feeling bored, Lu Qingze called Ningjuan over for a game of chess. As the black and white pieces crisscrossed the board, he glanced up at the young emperor’s handsome face and suddenly had a premonition.

By the time they returned, the capital would likely be a different place.

The game lasted a long time. Ningjuan captured most of Lu Qingze’s pieces, sealing his defeat.

Lu Qingze held a black piece, pondering for a long while before conceding gracefully. "I’ve lost."

Ningjuan’s chess style mirrored his former temperament—like a wolf that, once it clamped its jaws on its prey’s throat, refused to let go. He attacked relentlessly, with overwhelming aggression.

Lu Qingze’s style was more forgiving and rounded, steady as a mountain. Often, once Ningjuan plunged in, it was hard for him to escape.

In their matches, Ningjuan usually lost more than he won.

But this time, despite his victory, Ningjuan didn’t seem pleased. Uncharacteristically, he remained silent, acting strangely.

Lu Qingze found it odd. "What’s wrong? Not happy even after winning?"

Ningjuan stayed quiet for a moment longer before murmuring, "Nothing."

The sky was ablaze with sunset, its fragments scattered across the river like shimmering stars. Their game had lasted so long that dusk was approaching.

Ningjuan handed Lu Qingze the outer robe beside him. "It’s chilly at night, Teacher. Put this on."

Lu Qingze raised an eyebrow.

Normally, the little brat would act first and speak later—he’d usually come over and drape the robe over Lu Qingze himself, carefully tying it to avoid making him too warm, then explain why.

Something was definitely off.

But with the fading light, even though Changshun and Chen Xiaodao had lit candles, the dim glow made it hard to see Ningjuan’s expression clearly.

Just as he was about to move closer for a better look, Changshun arrived. "Your Majesty, Grand Tutor, dinner is ready. Shall we serve it now?"

Ningjuan gave a low hum of acknowledgment.

Chen Xiaodao promptly brought the dishes, grinning. "There’s fish—the young master’s favorite."

Lu Qingze smiled. "His Majesty dislikes being watched during meals. You two go have your dinner. Just have someone come to clear the dishes later."

Changshun hesitated for a moment, but Chen Xiaodao swiftly responded with an "Aye!" and pulled him along, muttering, "Perfect timing—I’ll ask the kitchen what’s on the menu tomorrow. There are many things my young master can’t eat either..."

Their voices faded into the distance. Lu Qingze picked up his ivory chopsticks and helped himself to a piece of tender, white fish belly. The summer heat called for light seasoning—steamed with ginger and garlic to remove any fishy taste, then drizzled with soy sauce for freshness. The fish was soft, delicate, and delicious.

After a few bites, he noticed Ningjuan still hadn’t touched his food. Puzzled, he placed a piece into the boy’s bowl. "What’s the matter?"

Ningjuan remained silent. Seeing the food in his bowl, he picked up his chopsticks and took a bite—then suddenly froze.

A second later, he abruptly stood up, rushed to the railing, and vomited.

Lu Qingze: "…………"

For a moment, Lu Qingze was at a loss for words. Amused and exasperated, he set down his chopsticks, walked over, and patted Ningjuan’s back. "You’re seasick?! Why didn’t you say so earlier?!"

After emptying his stomach, Ningjuan felt just as humiliated as the time he’d gotten a nosebleed in front of Lu Qingze. He turned his face away sullenly. "I’m fine. Teacher, go ahead and eat."

Lu Qingze widened his eyes in disbelief. "Ning Guoguo, you don’t actually think I can keep eating while watching you vomit, do you?"

Ningjuan thought for a moment, then weakly but stubbornly replied, "Then I’ll go somewhere else to vomit."

Lu Qingze: "..."

This child—what was he supposed to say to that?

He pressed Ningjuan back into his seat and bent down for a closer look. The boy’s face had already turned deathly pale, and he looked like he was barely holding back another wave of nausea. He must have been feeling unwell during their chess game earlier but had stubbornly kept it to himself.

The teenager avoided eye contact, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line—clearly embarrassed.

Lu Qingze couldn’t help but chuckle. Seeing that even the tips of Ningjuan’s ears had turned red, he tactfully stepped back and went to call for help.

While Lu Qingze was gone, Ningjuan quickly poured himself two cups of tea and rinsed his mouth by the railing. He exhaled cautiously, making sure there was no lingering odor, before finally relaxing.

Lu Qingze turned back just in time to see this and couldn’t help but smile.

Like a preening little peacock.

Where on earth did this boy get his several-ton weight of vanity?

If he was like this in front of him, who knew how he’d act in front of a girl he liked in the future?

In the original novel, the tyrant had likely stayed away from women because he trusted no one.

Lu Qingze couldn’t help but wonder what kind of girl Ningjuan would fall for.

And looking further ahead, once Ningjuan had children of his own, he might even be able to retire and then return as a tutor.

Knowing how sensitive and proud teenagers could be about their dignity, he waited until Ningjuan had settled back into his seat before bringing over two items and placing them on the table. "I asked for some pickled radish and hawthorn to help settle your stomach."

Still embarrassed, Ningjuan silently crunched on the sour radish without a word.

But after a few bites, the nausea and dizziness did ease somewhat.

Only then did Ningjuan finally speak, still stubborn. "Teacher, I’m fine now."

Lu Qingze laughed and scolded lightly, "Eat a bit more. Do you really think I’d laugh at you? Grow up!"

Ningjuan listlessly nibbled on some hawthorn.

Even if Lu Qingze wouldn’t mock him, he still didn’t want to lose face in front of him.

Seeing how prideful Ningjuan was, Lu Qingze kindly didn’t tell anyone else that the emperor was seasick—lest the entourage record it, ensuring future history books would immortalize the moment.

After a halting dinner, Ningjuan still felt uncomfortable. Suppressing his nausea, he summoned Zheng Yao and instructed him on the arrangements for their arrival in Lin’an Prefecture.

Zheng Yao bowed in acknowledgment. Noticing Ningjuan clutching an empty teacup, he stepped forward to refill it.

Just then, the boat suddenly rocked—the final straw. Ningjuan’s grip on the cup tightened, and he let out a low, involuntary retch.

Zheng Yao was thunderstruck.

"Y-Your Majesty?"

Was His Majesty disgusted by him?!

Lu Qingze couldn’t take it anymore. Amused, he explained, "It’s nothing. The wind has made His Majesty a little unwell. It’s not your fault, Lord Zheng. He’ll be fine after some rest."

After a pause, he added, "No need to keep all unfamiliar faces away from the third deck. Let them take a look occasionally."

That would put Wei Herong at ease.

Zheng Yao’s shattered heart pieced itself back together. He exhaled in relief. "Understood."

Ningjuan’s face was ashen. Tight-lipped, he ordered, "Dismissed."

When His Majesty’s expression darkened, it was terrifying. Only the Grand Tutor could handle it.

Zheng Yao muttered inwardly before hastily making his exit.

Night had fully fallen.

With so many people on board, it wasn’t appropriate for the two of them to share a room.

After washing up, Ningjuan lay down. The thought that Lu Qingze was sleeping in the cabin next door eased his discomfort somewhat. He curled up on his side, facing the direction of Lu Qingze’s cabin, trying to soothe his unsettled stomach.

Outside, the sound of rushing water accompanied the gentle rocking of the ship. The motion had been barely noticeable during the day, but in the quiet of night, every sway felt magnified.

Ningjuan closed his eyes, forcing himself to rest.

Drowsy and half-asleep, he suddenly heard the soft creak of his cabin door opening, followed by deliberately light footsteps.

An assassination attempt?

Had Wei Herong lost his mind, daring to strike at him?

These thoughts flashed through Ningjuan’s mind. The moment the footsteps reached his bedside, the boy moved with a speed that belied his seasickness—rolling over and springing up like a wolf, a dagger flashing in his hand as he lunged.

A split second before the blade struck, a bone-chilling sense of danger surged through him, forcing him to freeze mid-motion.

Then, the familiar scent of plum blossoms reached his nose.

Lu Qingze stood perfectly still, unfazed. "Good reflexes," he praised.

Cold sweat drenched Ningjuan from head to toe. Trembling with delayed terror, his eyes reddened instantly. "Teacher! You—why didn’t you say anything?!"

What if he’d actually stabbed him?!

Lu Qingze was also shaken but, out of habit, didn’t react dramatically. He calmly pinched the dagger between two fingers and moved it aside, sighing. "I called out to you from outside, but you didn’t answer. I thought you were asleep."

Ningjuan ignored the explanation. Without a word, he threw himself into Lu Qingze’s arms, his entire body trembling violently. Clutching Lu Qingze tightly, his voice cracked with barely suppressed sobs, each word shaking with fury and fear. "Lu Huaixue, you scared me to death."

Lu Qingze was taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. Gently patting his back, he soothed, "There, there. I’m fine, see?"

The dizziness from seasickness seemed to have eroded Ningjuan’s usual composure. The normally mature and steady teenager clung to Lu Qingze’s sleeve, his voice breaking completely. His breathing came in ragged, uneven gasps, as if his lungs were about to burst. "You almost died!"

This was the first time Ningjuan had ever shouted at him. Stunned, Lu Qingze was about to continue comforting him when he felt something hot and wet drip onto his neck.

He stilled, belatedly realizing they were the young emperor’s tears.

In all the years he’d watched Ningjuan grow up, he’d never seen him cry.

This was the first time.

In his past life, Lu Qingze had learned to control his emotions from childhood due to his heart condition. By adulthood, it had become second nature—outwardly warm and approachable, but inwardly detached. His calm demeanor and gentle aloofness kept others at an invisible distance. No matter what happened, he was always the most composed person in the room.

As a result, his ability to perceive emotions was somewhat dulled.

Just moments ago, he’d assumed Ningjuan was merely startled. Only when the boy started crying did he vaguely realize that Ningjuan’s reaction went far beyond simple fright.

Lu Qingze fell silent, returning the embrace and gently patting Ningjuan’s back, waiting for him to slowly calm down.

After what felt like an eternity, Ningjuan’s ragged breathing gradually evened out. He lifted his head—his eyes still wet, lashes dark as ink, his handsome face glistening with tears like a pitiful, drenched puppy.

He scrutinized Lu Qingze carefully, then hesitantly reached out, touching his warm cheeks, his unharmed throat, before pressing an ear to his chest. Only when he heard the steady, if not particularly strong, heartbeat did he finally snap out of his terror-induced daze.

But his mind still buzzed numbly, his emotions as unsteady as the ship beneath him, drifting and uneasy.

Lu Qingze chuckled as Ningjuan’s touch tickled him. His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he held still. Once Ningjuan had calmed, he reached up to wipe the boy’s face. "Better now?"

Ningjuan’s lips moved, but he remained silent, still clutching Lu Qingze’s sleeve.

For the next few days, if Lu Qingze wasn’t by his side, he doubted he’d be able to sleep at all.

Lu Qingze nudged him further onto the bed and climbed in beside him. "Don’t overthink it. I’m fine, and I’m not going anywhere. I just came to check on you."

With that, he placed a hand on Ningjuan’s stomach. "Still feeling sick?"

Ningjuan shook his head, his face pale.

After the heart-stopping scare, all worldly concerns had been tossed aside. Earlier, his temples had throbbed so violently he’d felt like if he vomited again, it might be blood.

Now, his mind was filled only with Lu Qingze.

Normally, when they shared a bed, Lu Qingze insisted on a clear boundary between them. But now, he didn’t complain about Ningjuan’s body heat. Instead, he actively hugged the boy—now taller than him—one hand soothing his stomach, the other gently patting his back. His voice was soft. "Rest easy. I’ll stay with you for the next few nights."

The cool fragrance of plum blossoms enveloped them, mingling with the faint bitterness of medicine.

Silently, Ningjuan pulled Lu Qingze even closer, exhaling deeply.

Thank goodness. Lu Qingze was unharmed.

The cabin grew quiet again. Lu Qingze, prone to fatigue, and lulled by the gentle rocking of the ship, soon drifted into a hazy sleep.

Listening to the steady breathing beside him, Ningjuan dared to move closer still, resting his forehead against Lu Qingze’s and closing his trembling eyes.

He hadn’t even realized how much Lu Qingze’s safety meant to him.

If Lu Qingze died, he’d probably lose his mind.

He wanted to keep Lu Qingze locked away.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, Ningjuan’s heart, which had just begun to settle, suddenly raced again.

What was he doing? What was he thinking?

—Lu Qingze was his teacher.

Author’s Note:

Lu Qingze: casually dies a little.

Ning Guoguo: QAQ???

NEXT