Whether they could win or not, the outcome was the same, and worrying was useless. After thinking it over, Shen Jiao decided to apologize to Chen Bao first.

It's wrong to speak ill of someone behind their back, but I had no choice. General Chen, I'm sorry for what I did in this life. In the next life, I promise I'll wait for you for half an hour longer when I'm reincarnated.

Shen Jiao blinked her bright eyes. "Your Majesty, think about it. General Chen is your subject, your soldier, and your son. I happen to be General Chen's student. If this gets out, people will say that a great and powerful emperor was killed by the student of his own subject. How disgusting would that be?"

Ji Yan looked down at her, her eyes red and listless, and sneered, "Disliked? You don't know my reputation at all. If you kill me, you might even be recorded in the annals of heroes who punish evil and promote good."

Wow, not bad, you have a pretty clear understanding of yourself.

However, she had no grand ambitions; she just wanted to be a useless beauty who did nothing but eat and sleep.

Shen Jiao secretly pinched her thigh and shook her head. "Your Majesty is mistaken. How is it punishing evil and promoting good? Your Majesty should have been comfortably staying in the palace, but you did not. In order to protect the people of Great Yan, you did not hesitate to travel thousands of miles to the desolate Langya Pass. This is a matter of righteousness. Anyone who tries to assassinate Your Majesty is committing a heinous crime."

As she finished speaking, her voice choked with sobs, and she sobbed... If she were an emperor, she would have been moved to tears by these words. As for a tyrant, even if he wasn't moved, he should at least be touched.

After all, things are valued for their rarity. Countless people criticize him, and it's rare to encounter someone who genuinely praises him like she does. Even if the tyrant's heart is made of stone, it should show a tiny crack by now, Shen Jiao thought.

She touched her leg, regretting that she had pinched it harder, because it didn't hurt, making it difficult to even squeeze out a couple of tears to compose herself.

In contrast, Ji Yan's eyes were deep and her expression was complicated. "Why did you pinch my thigh?"

Shen Jiao: ? ? ?

He ruffled her hair in exasperation, saying, "It's good that you dared to ambush me, but to kill someone you'd have to strangle them. You can't kill me by strangling my thigh."

For some reason, she sensed the tyrant's hidden meaning: "I'm so powerful, how dare you think you can treat me like a weakling? You're dreaming!"

Since there was a misunderstanding, Shen Jiao was too lazy to explain. "Your Majesty is right to reprimand me. I will pay attention next time."

"Moreover," Ji Yan scoffed, his mockery ignoring everything, "I didn't come to Langya Pass for those brainless commoners; I just felt tired of killing the Yan people and wanted a change of pace."

Shen Jiao: "..." You treat killing like eating, tired of Sichuan food and switching to Hunan cuisine?

Therefore, speaking is an art. Take a tyrant as an example. He may be doing good deeds to protect the country, but when he speaks about it, it becomes an outrageous crime. What's worse, he speaks with apparent sincerity. But what's so sincere about this?

Shen Jiao thought that Wang Fu probably hadn't figured out his position yet. As the tyrant's agent, how could he not control the comments and package the truth of the matter? Although the tyrant was a bit dim-witted, what he did was essentially beneficial to the country and the people, so why should he be criticized?

Do the master and servant have masochistic tendencies?

Was the tyrant so harshly criticized that he became psychologically twisted, which is why he contemplated suicide at such a young age?

Shen Jiao had mixed feelings. She was a model citizen, a flower of the future of the motherland. She never littered and loved helping old ladies cross the road. No matter how you looked at it, this kind of inhumane thing should not have happened to her.

To be honest, the tyrant is a very impatient person, as can be seen from the speed and circumstances of his killings. But strangely, he is exceptionally tolerant of her murder weapon, which is not only not sharper but is becoming increasingly duller as it is worn down.

Although he had repeatedly expressed his desire to kill or maim her, he ultimately spared her life, which made Shen Jiao even more puzzled as to why he had to choose her.

I'm so afraid that one day, a tyrant will wear a brightly colored dress, hold a sparkling magic wand, and dance a transformation dance that would make even his own mother want to sever ties with him, and then say—accept your fate, you are the chosen one.

Stop, stop! How could she possibly imagine such a scenario!

Shen Jiao gathered her scattered thoughts.

She didn't speak, and Ji Yan was also bored. Perhaps he felt that her hair was too messy and looked a bit ugly, so the tyrant went to great lengths to straighten it. But when he straightened it, he got annoyed and ruffled it again like a crazy husky.

Shen Jiao: "..."

Her heart sank seven-tenths of its way. There must be a reason why she was losing her hair. With a restless and violent Tony around, even the hair sprouts that were trying to come to life were scared away.

"Your Majesty, I don't want to become bald at such a young and beautiful age."

Ji Yan: "I don't despise you."

Shen Jiao: "..."

Generally speaking, when an incredibly handsome man expresses that he will love you no matter what you become, even penguins in Antarctica at sub-zero temperatures would be captivated by him.

But she couldn't, she couldn't do it. All she wanted now was to be an ordinary, heartless, loveless, painless, and cool young master in the Funeral Love Family.

After being aloof for a mere 0.01 seconds, Shen Jiao finally broke down. "But Your Majesty, when I was a child, an old monk said I had the potential to become a nun. If you pluck my hair bald, what if I become a Buddhist nun and then can't kill any living beings?"

Ji Yan did not stop: "Which temple's monks are you from?"

Shen Jiao: "What does Your Majesty want to do?"

Ji Yan: "Kill him."

Shen Jiao: "..." If you continue like this, even the eighteenth level of hell will not be able to accommodate you in the future.

...

Do you know the origin of this red-tasseled spear?

Ji Yan raised his index finger, pointing to the weapon that was twice as thick and sturdy as the trophy Chen Bao had boasted about. His pale, slender fingers complemented the silver gleam of the spear shaft, creating a harmonious effect.

Shen Jiao, feeling a little dizzy from the sun, said, "I don't know, but it must be very important to His Majesty."

"If you don't know, just touch it."

Something about this sounded very wrong. Shen Jiao hesitated, but finally decided to stay put. "I dare not. I dare not touch something so precious."

"Hurry up." Ji Yan said impatiently, her face dark. "If you dawdle any longer, I'll chop off your claws."

Shen Jiao had no choice but to touch it as if it were burning her hand.

Ji Yan was extremely satisfied, and then spoke in a low voice: "This Xuanbing Spear is a trophy from my first time on the battlefield. Many years ago, there was a famous general in Wei who was invincible. He was very arrogant, but no matter how arrogant he was, it was useless. I nailed his head to the city gate and hung it for forty-nine days. I used this Xuanbing Spear."

Shen Jiao silently wiped her hands on her skirt, then suddenly thought of something and felt a chill. So, that means that the red tassel that had been sweeping across her face earlier had also been sweeping across a skull full of maggots on a certain day of a certain year.

She was shocked and her composure crumbled.

Seemingly sensing her thoughts, Ji Yan once again uttered two words with his untimely yet exceptionally sincere expression, "That's right."

Shen Jiao: "..." Ji Yan, I'm playing seesaw with your mother, and I'm going to knock on your mother's head.