Chapter 139#

The Frail and Sickly Powerful Minister#

Winter passed and spring came in the blink of an eye.

Days passed one after another. The teenage boy grew quickly. At first, he only reached up to Lin Xiaodong’s chest, but after just three springs, Jing Ji had grown to match his height.

This somewhat frustrated Lin Xiaodong, as he’d finally experienced being taller than the other person for a moment, and that feeling of looking down hadn’t lasted long before the boy would likely surpass him in a few more months.

February. Grass grows and orioles fly.

On the grassland of the hunting grounds on the outskirts of the capital, a sharp arrow pierced the air, striking a rabbit bolting through the grass with precision.

A kill with one shot.

“Your Majesty is truly a gifted young talent, destined for greatness,” came the cheers. Prince An tightened his reins and stopped his pursuit in sincere admiration.

Beside him, a black horse with white hooves neighed, and along with it came a clear voice somewhere between youth and adulthood: “You flatter me, Uncle. You were simply letting me win.”

Jing Ji sat on his horse in fitted hunting clothes, his smile modest but his gaze sharp with arrogance.

After his bone development slowed, his once slender limbs were now covered with flowing muscles. His lean, powerful waist could even draw a hundred-stone bow that ordinary people found impossible to wield. His sword skills had been refined to perfection under the tutelage of court masters.

But his most striking growth was far from what the eye could see.

Prince An glanced at him and suddenly asked: “Your Majesty, you are sixteen now, are you not?”

“Yes, Uncle. Why do you ask?” Jing Ji raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Prince An sighed with a smile. “I was just thinking… truly, the waves behind push the waves ahead, and the young phoenix sings clearer than the old.”

Jing Ji sensed something unusual in him today and pressed further: “Uncle seems affected by something. What troubles you?”

He came here to hunt with Prince An every year, and just shooting a rabbit wouldn’t cause such emotional turmoil.

“Actually,” Prince An hesitated for a long time before, after Jing Ji discreetly sent away the attendants, he finally revealed his thoughts. “Your Majesty, there is a matter I have been pondering for quite some time, and I do not know if I should speak of it.”

“Speak freely.”

“You know that I have a close relationship with Lin Daren,” Prince An said. “But I have recently discovered… or rather, perhaps not just I have noticed, but you have sensed it too?”

He spoke heavily to Jing Ji, whose gaze had gradually grown serious: “I fear that Lin Dongqing may harbor ill intentions.”

On the way back, Jing Ji pondered Prince An’s words.

After that palace coup, despite memorials impeaching Lin Xiaodong falling like snowflakes, both the officials and Jing Ji himself knew that provoking him while the emperor’s wings were not yet full would have no good outcome.

Thus, weeks later, the momentum died down, and the Lin faction remained the largest force in the Jing Dynasty’s court. Though Lin Xiaodong never liked forming cliques, officials who had received his favor and those who wished to flatter him stood firmly by his side.

This meant that once Lin Xiaodong truly wished to implement any policy, even Emperor Jing Ji could not stop him.

Jing Ji had endured three years in silence. He secretly cultivated his own faction on the court, outwardly not opposing the young man, and privately used every method to show how much he “trusted” the other, treating Lin Xiaodong as the closest person by his side.

This seemed to lower Lin Xiaodong’s guard. Jing Ji could sense the young man’s indulgence toward him and his turning a blind eye to certain small maneuvers. Though sometimes he couldn’t tell if this was because the other was truly deceived by him, or because his increasingly weakening body meant he was already planning to gradually relinquish power.

But regardless, the current Jing Ji was a completely different person from the powerless boy at the New Year’s Eve banquet three years ago.

The way he looked at Lin Xiaodong had gradually changed. Thanks to the tall position of the dragon throne and the concealment of the imperial crown, it gave the young man the opportunity to hide his gaze during court sessions.

The turning point began three months ago.

That winter, the single monarch who had barely clung to life for over two years finally couldn’t survive the harsh winds and snow of the northern frontier, dying on the eve of the new year.

The news reached the capital, and that very night, Lin Xiaodong rushed into the palace.

“Your Majesty, please send troops!”

As he spoke, the young man’s gaze was intense, his pale cheeks flushed with excitement, his breathing heavy. He stared intently at Jing Ji’s expression, his words carrying a plea for the first time.

Jing Ji had never seen him like this.

On the court, Lin Xiaodong in his black official robes was always composed and cold. He seemed to understand all matters of state and could calmly solve any problem. Even when he watched an elderly minister, in desperation, dash his head against a pillar beside him, blood spattering his cheek, his eyes showed no emotion.

But that time, Jing Ji did not agree.

Sending troops to punish the northern frontier was no small matter. Jing Ji had been hesitant from the beginning, and now that he understood some court politics better, he became even more cautious. No matter what, he couldn’t start a war simply because of Lin Xiaodong’s wishes.

Three years ago, Lin Xiaodong could have ignored his opinion and led troops to war himself. But with his body deteriorating daily now, missing three or four court sessions out of ten, who would lead the troops? How could they march to war?

Jing Ji sat on the dragon throne, watching the ministers below arguing in chaos, feeling his head ring with the noise.

“Forget it, let’s postpone this matter,” unable to help it, he finally raised his voice. “Let the emperor think about it first.”

When the court session ended, for the first time, Jing Ji saw such cold disappointment in the young man’s eyes below.

But he was no longer the young fool who would get excited over the slightest bit of care. Jing Ji could even calmly consider whether he could seize the opportunity to take power from Lin Xiaodong in one fell swoop and cause him to lose all influence.

Of course, he didn’t want to kill Lin Xiaodong, but he couldn’t deny that Jing Ji had other thoughts about him.

After the first time he woke from a dream to discover he’d accidentally wet the bed, Jing Ji didn’t panic. He simply sat on the bed in a daze for a long time, his heart full of the thought “Ah, I knew it.”

For some reason, deep down, Jing Ji had always had a certain conviction—

That young man was destined to be his.

Inside the carriage, the young emperor of Jing Dynasty carelessly lowered his head, looking at the soft white fox fur around his neck, revealing a confident smile of certainty.

The Lin Residence.

“Cough, cough, cough, cough…”

Lin Xiaodong coughed while extending his wrist to Doctor Nian. Under Xie Chen’s anxious watch, Doctor Nian Sheng furrowed his brows deeply as he pressed his fingers to his pulse. After a long moment, he silently withdrew his hand.

“I hear that Lin Daren has been wanting to lead troops to war recently?” the old man asked slowly.

“I am not a military commander,” Lin Xiaodong said, as if ignoring the anger in his eyes, his brows furrowed as he spoke softly. “And even if you didn’t tell me, I already know I definitely won’t last until the end of the war, so I’m just hoping someone can fulfill this wish for me.”

Doctor Nian took a deep breath, restraining himself over and over, but still couldn’t help it: “This is madness! Last until the end of the war? With your current condition, it would be a miracle if you even made it to the northern frontier!”

Lin Xiaodong indifferently twitched his lips, but Xie Chen couldn’t let him destroy his body like this. He quickly brought a bowl of medicine and looked at him pleadingly: “My lord, please just drink a sip.”

After learning of the Shanyu’s death, Lin Xiaodong had asked Doctor Nian for a prescription—simply put, to squeeze out the last bit of vitality from his body, trading temporary health for a few more years of lingering survival. Though Xie Chen was in agony, he couldn’t stop it. He could only do his best to regulate Lin Xiaodong’s body, though the effects were minimal.

He was destined not to see next spring.

Having such a patient to care for, Doctor Nian felt he’d wasted a lifetime’s worth of patience and medical ethics. Therefore, even though he knew the person before him was the renowned Ministry of Personnel Director of the Jing Dynasty, he still snorted coldly: “Good words are wasted on ghosts that seek death. Lin Daren, I am a doctor, not an immortal. At this point, I have no other methods.”

“I know,” Lin Xiaodong said calmly. “Thank you, Doctor Nian. You’ve been troubled these past years.”

“Xie Chen, take a hundred taels of silver from the residence and give it to Doctor Nian. I am tired. See our guest out.”

Doctor Nian angrily said: “I won’t take it!”

He felt insulted and was about to turn and leave, but he couldn’t help but worry about this thoughtless patient. At the doorway, he stopped and asked: “Lin Daren, I really don’t understand. Why are you in such a hurry?”

Lin Xiaodong closed his eyes and lay quietly on the bed, his lips pale as death.

Just as Doctor Nian thought he wouldn’t answer, he suddenly heard the young man say in barely perceptible tones:

“For a promise.”

A promise?

“What promise?” Doctor Nian couldn’t help asking.

But this time Lin Xiaodong didn’t answer him.

That evening, Lin Xiaodong visited the palace again.

Jing Ji, who was reviewing memorials, helplessly put down the red brush in his hand and looked at him: “Sir, you haven’t come to discuss the military campaign again, have you? I already said, it’s not a small matter and requires careful consideration…”

“Careful consideration?” The young man’s gaze was flat. He sat there quietly, his lips unusually flushed. “Then may I ask Your Majesty, how much longer?”

“Sigh.” Jing Ji rubbed his temples and changed the subject: “Forget it, let’s not discuss this anymore.”

He looked up and saw Lin Xiaodong’s appearance, and suddenly said with some joy: “Sir, you look quite well today. Has your illness improved?”

In Jing Ji’s memory, Lin Xiaodong had always appeared sickly. Yet despite everyone thinking he might die any time, the young man somehow continued to live, even working with no less efficiency than any healthy minister.

Of course, Jing Ji was delighted by this.

He proactively sat beside Lin Xiaodong, grasping the young man’s cold hand, fixating on how the object of his childhood admiration moved his gaze away for the first time, feeling his sense of achievement and satisfaction was beyond words.

He said: “I promised you that I would realize your wish to unite the northern frontier. Did you forget?”

Lin Xiaodong sighed, and the stern expression he’d been holding gradually relaxed.

“I didn’t forget,” he said. “I was just worried…” That he might not see it.

“You worry too much,” Jing Ji casually interrupted him. He chuckled softly, “No wonder those officials always misunderstand that you want to seize the throne and harm me. Even I almost fell for your act.”

That morning, Prince An’s words weighed on Jing Ji’s mind.

But regarding the claim that “Lin Xiaodong harbors ill intentions,” he was thoroughly dismissive.

Jing Ji had indeed been accumulating power these years to seize control. Even knowing that Lin Xiaodong wouldn’t betray him, it was the same—more than that, he wanted to prove himself to the other.

He even had the feeling that even if he truly managed to bring down Lin Xiaodong on his own, the other wouldn’t show any resentment. Instead, he would find it deeply gratifying.

“Your Majesty is only a teenager, yet you speak with such maturity,” Lin Xiaodong turned to look at him, his dark eyes holding a softness not easily detected.

Jing Ji’s breath caught.

It was this look. Whenever the young man gazed at him with such subtle eyes, Jing Ji always had the illusion that he was deeply loved by the other.

“After all, it’s because Sir taught me,” his tone unconsciously took on a hint of coquetry.

The sight of the two of them like this—if the ministers on the court bench saw it during the day, their eyes would probably fall to the ground.

Whatever happened to the discord between ruler and minister?

“Come walk with me,” Jing Ji said.

The two came to the garden, where Jing Ji noticed that Lin Xiaodong seemed absent-minded during their conversation, clearly still thinking about the northern frontier. He sighed, pressed his lips together in irritation, and fell into a stubborn silence.

Only then did Lin Xiaodong realize the person beside him was pouting. Despite his maturity, he was still just a teenager. With war approaching at the frontier and the burdens of an emperor, his stress must be enormous.

But Jing Ji hadn’t said anything, and had even set aside his duties to accompany him on this walk to ease his mind.

Thinking of this, Lin Xiaodong stopped in his tracks.

“…Sir?”

Jing Ji turned to him in confusion, but before he could say another word, Lin Xiaodong extended his arms and pulled him into an embrace.

“It’s my fault,” he said softly. “I’ve become accustomed to relying on you unconsciously… but you’re still just a child yourself.”

Jing Ji: “…”

He stood dazed on the garden path, held in the young man’s arms, feeling as if he were dreaming.

Did Sir really just embrace him on his own?

And say that he unconsciously relied on him?

Though Jing Ji couldn’t recall when Lin Xiaodong had relied on him—quite the opposite was usually the case—this didn’t prevent his mood from soaring.

Without hesitation, he raised his arms and deliberately softened his voice, wrapping them around Lin Xiaodong’s waist, burying his head in the young man’s shoulder as he said softly: “Sir, I’m a bit tired.”

Lin Xiaodong raised his head and looked around: “There’s a pavilion ahead. Would Your Majesty like to rest there for a moment?”

Jing Ji was quite reluctant. He wanted to hold him like this until the end of time.

“Perhaps not…”

“You could sleep on my lap.”

“—Let’s go right now!”

Jing Ji immediately released him and said with renewed vigor.

Lin Xiaodong nearly laughed out loud, but it turned into two soft coughs instead.

Truly, there was nothing to be done about him.

— Both sighed simultaneously in their hearts.