Volume One, Chapter Seven: Instruction (Part 2)
The tyrant’s actions were truly forever unpredictable.
Zhao Yuanzhuo instinctively took a step back.
He tilted his neck up to look at Shen Ran, a flash of murderous intent flickering in his stark black-and-white eyes.
His mouth nearly bled from biting down hard as he glared at Shen Ran, enunciating each word with heavy emphasis: “You think I don’t dare?”
The atmosphere instantly tightened, tension rising unilaterally.
Shen Ran rested one hand on his chin and slowly smiled, “So, do you dare?”
Zhao Yuanzhuo blinked, confused.
A proud and ambitious youth could never endure such a gaze laced with contempt.
“Of course I dare!”
Veins bulging on the back of his hand, Zhao Yuanzhuo unhesitatingly drew the long sword hanging on the wall.
“Shing—!”
The cold blade slid from its sheath, shimmering with a chilling gleam.
A dark red line ran along the sword’s edge, faintly exuding a sinister aura that sent chills down one’s spine.
To ensure the emperor’s safety, ministers were historically forbidden to carry weapons in the imperial study—yet Shen Ran audaciously kept such a deadly weapon there.
Was it an excessive concern for his own safety, using the blade for protection?
Or was he simply fearless and indifferent to everything?
Zhao Yuanzhuo cursed silently, “Madman.”
Clutching the sword’s hilt, he raised his hand and pointed the tip at Shen Ran’s chest.
The cold gleam was sharp and forbidding.
Shen Ran stood up, circled around the desk, and faced Zhao Yuanzhuo directly.
The distance was so close that the sword’s tip pressed against his clothing.
Yet Shen Ran did not stop moving.
Zhao Yuanzhuo involuntarily stepped back, his voice sharp: “Stop! Don’t think I really—”
“Pfft—!”
Before he could finish, the blade had pierced in half an inch.
The air froze instantly.
Blood dripped down the blade, stirring a frenzy in Zhao Yuanzhuo’s eyes.
Just a little deeper…
Just a little deeper…
He stared coldly at the man before him.
His voice hoarse, “Do you really want to die?”
He could not understand this man.
Like how sane people rarely comprehend the thoughts of the insane.
“I said I’d give you a chance, and I will.”
Shen Ran smiled, his expression indifferent: “But you should think carefully. Once this sword strikes, Zhao Shoude’s treasonous crime will never be cleared.”
“Whether Liu Shizhuang is loyal or not, to uphold his reputation as a faithful subject and prove the Zhao family’s guilt, he won’t spare your sister in the entertainment quarters. He might even drag your father and brothers out for public punishment.”
Each word stabbed deeply.
His tone was slightly low, tinged with amusement.
Yet it was like a razor-sharp hook, mercilessly tearing open fresh wounds.
The words struck like thunder on a clear day; Zhao Yuanzhuo’s body trembled, his sword hand shaking slightly.
His father had been loyal to the emperor all his life—how could he allow the enemy to brand him a regicide even after death?
And his sister—
The sister who had loved him since childhood, willing to suffer in the entertainment quarters for his sake.
What fate would his impulsive strike bring upon her?
Suddenly, a faint sound of a blade piercing flesh came to his ears.
Zhao Yuanzhuo stiffened and looked towards the source of the sound, finally realizing what it was.
Distracted, the sword blade pierced a little deeper.
In an instant, cold sweat broke out all over him.
With a clatter, the long sword fell to the ground.
The youth emitted a choked, ambiguous sob.
And said—
“Kill me then.”
As the words fell, Shen Ran suddenly laughed.
Using the height advantage granted by their age difference, he looked down mockingly at the youth.
“Are you a woman?”
Zhao Yuanzhuo was stunned.
Shen Ran said, “Isn’t it common for women who have been taken against their will to cry and say things like that?”
Zhao Yuanzhuo’s face flushed a deep red; blood surged in his chest, and he could not utter a single word.
With a flick of his foot, Shen Ran sent the fallen sword flying back into his hand as if it had come alive.
The Great Zhou dynasty had risen swiftly; Shen Ran’s skills were always formidable. Otherwise, when the rebels breached the city, Liu Ruyi wouldn’t have had to drug him and hand him over to Shen Ye.
The sword’s tip pressed against the youth’s throat, staining his neck with a streak of crimson.
Shen Ran said coolly, “First, your life is worthless in my eyes. But I promised the Empress not to kill you. So if you truly want to die, it must be by your own hand.”
Hearing the words “Empress,” Zhao Yuanzhuo’s eyes flickered, but he bit his lip tightly and said nothing.
Shen Ran continued, “Second, if you have no ability, no courage, and haven’t thought through the consequences, don’t wear your hatred and humiliation on your face—it’s a joke to the world. Except for those who care about you, who else will concern themselves with your feelings?”
“Third, think carefully…”
“Who is the person you should truly seek revenge against?”
“Who gathered the evidence to accuse Zhao Shoude of treason? And who made sure you couldn’t even become a man?”
Zhao Yuanzhuo’s pupils contracted sharply.
Shen Ran withdrew his sword decisively.
“Come see me again when you’ve figured it out. If you haven’t…”
He paused, then said indifferently, “Do as you like with your death, just don’t soil my place.”
With that, Shen Ran turned and left.
Though only five years older than Zhao Yuanzhuo, the other saw him as a mere child.
He did not care to placate children.
Yet behind him came the sound of a heavy thud.
Shen Ran’s steps halted; he turned to look.
The youth’s back, always so straight, bent forward until his forehead touched the ground.
“Please, Your Majesty, spare my sister and let her leave the entertainment quarters.”
“I am willing to accept whatever punishment you impose, without regret.”
The end.