Volume One, Chapter 6: Instruction (Part 1)

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Because of Shen Ran's sudden departure last night, Liu Ruyi barely slept the entire night, tossing and turning with an uneasy feeling that something was amiss.

Liu Shizhuang had painstakingly fabricated evidence to firmly establish Zhao Shoude’s guilt of treason, aiming to make an example out of him to warn others.

Liu Ruyi feared that Shen Ran, perhaps swayed by Xue Wu’s influence, might truly spare Zhao Yuanzuo. So before dawn the next day, she hurriedly dispatched orders to the factory to begin the punishment early.

Once such a thing is severed, there’s no putting it back on.

As she sat at the table sipping the freshly prepared lotus seed and lily soup, waiting for the dispatched messengers to return, her personal maid Rushua hurried in, a joyous expression on her face.

“Consort, His Majesty has sent a gift for you!”

Liu Ruyi was momentarily taken aback. “What gift at this hour?”

Shen Ran’s favor was constant, so receiving gifts was nothing unusual, but arriving before dawn was unprecedented.

Rushua smiled knowingly. “I suppose His Majesty, worried you might be upset after his hurried departure yesterday, brought something fresh overnight to appease you. After all, none of us doubt His Majesty’s deep affection for you.”

People naturally like to hear sweet words.

Hearing this, a faint smile finally appeared on Liu Ruyi’s exquisite face.

She had always noticed Shen Ran’s special favor toward her.

This feared tyrant was different with her.

She suspected perhaps the assassination attempt had sown a seed of doubt in Shen Ran’s heart, but that he could not bear to suspect her for long. He even deliberately showed kindness to Xue Wu to provoke her, but only hours later had sent gifts.

Sure enough, that Xue Wu was nothing but a hopeless mess—how could a man like him favor such a pretentious, unimaginative woman? She had wasted an entire night worrying for no reason.

Thinking this, Liu Ruyi flicked her hand with the handkerchief and playfully scolded, “You sly girl! Since that’s the case, quickly summon someone to help me change clothes. Once I receive the gift, I shall personally go thank His Majesty.”

Rushua laughed and complied, clapping her hands. The palace maids entered in orderly fashion to attend to Liu Ruyi’s grooming.

Afterward, Rushua supported Liu Ruyi as she walked out to the outer hall, where about twenty guards stood. The leader held a tray covered with a cloth, its contents bulging under the fabric.

Liu Ruyi scrutinized the leader—a face she did not recognize.

Usually, the gifts were delivered by Yuanbao.

She asked curiously, “May I ask who you are?”

The man immediately bowed. “Your humble servant, Fu Liangkai, a third-rank sword-bearing guard before the throne.”

Fu Liangkai? She had never heard of him.

Probably someone without much background.

Liu Ruyi nodded, but without warmth. “Where is Eunuch Yuanbao? Why isn’t he here this time?”

Fu Liangkai explained, “Yuanbao is occupied with other matters. I am but a lowly servant, unworthy to deliver gifts to Your Highness. But since His Majesty made a sudden decision, I was hastily appointed. Please forgive this humble servant.”

Despite his burly appearance, Fu Liangkai spoke eloquently, quite unlike a rough commoner. Liu Ruyi looked at him a moment longer and smiled. “What has His Majesty sent?”

Fu Liangkai hesitated, then bowed again. “Forgive me, Consort. His Majesty strictly instructed that you must see it with your own eyes and that it must not be revealed beforehand.”

Rushua leaned in, smiling, “His Majesty surely wants to surprise you.”

Liu Ruyi shot her a playful glance and waved her off. “Enough, bring it here.”

Rushua took the tray from Fu Liangkai and placed it before Liu Ruyi, who swiftly pulled back the cloth.

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The hall was still dim, lit only by flickering candles.

In the shifting shadows appeared a head with eyes wide open—Wang Han’s severed skull—and beside it, a mangled tongue.

In an instant, Liu Ruyi gasped, her eyes rolling back as she collapsed to the floor.

…

Shen Ran summoned Zhao Yuanzuo to the imperial study.

The youth’s hair was wet, as if freshly washed, and he wore an ill-fitting guard uniform. Upon seeing Shen Ran, he refused to kneel, instead glaring defiantly, his black and white eyes full of stubbornness.

Yuanbao gave a subtle signal to the nearby guards.

One kicked Zhao Yuanzuo sharply in the knee. “Kneel before His Majesty!”

“Bang!”

The kick was hard, yet the youth swayed but still did not kneel.

“You—!” The guard was furious and about to kick again, but Shen Ran smiled and waved them off. “Enough, all of you withdraw. I have a few words to ask him alone.”

Everyone was momentarily stunned.

Yuanbao cautiously said, “Your Majesty, this is unwise. This brat has a stubborn temper; be careful he does not offend you—”

Shen Ran turned his head slightly, speaking softly, “Are you the emperor? Am I the emperor?”

Yuanbao nearly fainted.

Unlike other tyrants, Shen Ran rarely raised his voice even in anger.

This meant one had to be constantly alert.

Because it was nearly impossible to read any change in his mood. One moment he might be chatting amiably with you, and the next your head would be on the chopping block.

Yuanbao dared not say another word and trembled as he led the guards out.

The door closed, leaving only Shen Ran and Zhao Yuanzuo inside.

The youth stared unblinking, then spat two words: “Foolish monarch.”

The hatred of a family destroyed.

The humiliation of being bound like an animal on a torture bed.

The anger was palpable.

Shen Ran nearly laughed.

He had seen Zhao Shoude—tall at 1.85 meters, with a full beard, the image of a general.

And this youth before him, with rosy lips and white teeth, despite days of suffering, still stood straight with an icy, proud bearing.

He must have been a favored child since birth.

No wonder Liu Shizhuang had contrived such a way to degrade him.

For such a proud scion of a noble family, castration was worse than death.

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Yet even so, in his previous life, Zhao Yuanzuo was one of the few within the palace who never sided with Shen Ye, nor did he step on him when he became a captive.

“Can you read?”

Long, pale fingers with distinct knuckles pointed to the pile of memorials on the table. Shen Ran said indifferently, “Go take a look.”

Zhao Yuanzuo was momentarily stunned, unsure of this tyrant’s intentions.

Imperial memorials were not to be casually perused by others. Was this a trap to accuse him again?

His parents and sister wanted him to survive, but what meaning was there in living as a despised eunuch, shunned by former friends?

Tied to the torture bed, he had felt unprecedented terror. That knife would not only wound his body but sever his dignity and pride. If there was no escape, better to die.

If he truly died today, he could at least apologize to his parents in the afterlife.

Zhao Yuanzuo sneered but, surprisingly, obeyed and began flipping through the memorials on Shen Ran’s desk.

Leaning lazily in his chair, Shen Ran showed faint weariness but did not stop him.

Though Zhao Yuanzuo preferred martial arts over letters, as a scion of a noble family reading memorials was not beyond him.

After reading a portion, he frowned, sensing something was amiss.

The memorials were many but mostly trivial nonsense: meaningless flattery praising Shen Ran’s talents, wisdom, and martial prowess; greetings of “Good morning,” “Good noon,” “Good evening”; or petty matters like a lost ox, favorable weather, or a fruit offering.

Even the last memorial was the same—utterly useless.

Zhao Yuanzuo was silent for a long moment.

Shen Ran asked, “Are they good reads?”

Zhao Yuanzuo responded coldly, “A pile of nonsense and sycophantic words.”

Shen Ran said, “All memorials from civil and military officials are presented to me through the chancellor. These are what I see every day.”

Zhao Yuanzuo said bitterly, “That’s because you trust treacherous ministers.”

Those ministers destroyed his entire family and humiliated him and his sister endlessly.

If Zhao Shoude had not been loyal to the end, urging him not to resent the emperor, and if his sister were not suffering in the music bureau, he would have risked everything to bring down the emperor.

He would fight this foolish monarch to the death!

The youth’s turmoil was plain to see, and Shen Ran saw through it at once.

If not for his promise to Xue Wu.

If not for the fact that the youth had not struck when he was down in their previous life…

Shen Ran lifted his eyes with a trace of boredom and pointed to the long sword hanging on the wall.

“You hate me, do you?”

“It’s sharpened. I’m giving you a chance.”

Zhao Yuanzuo: “…!?”