Lu Xingjian's lips curled into a cold smile.
"To imitate someone else's beauty is futile."
The red-clad girl dancing with her sword faltered slightly, her eyes reddening, clearly deeply affected.
Zhang Yong raised an eyebrow and tentatively suggested, "How about we bring Miss Ma back?"
Lu Xingjian leaned back in his chair, his narrow eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked sharply at Zhang Yong.
Why?
Zhang Yong immediately felt like he was being pricked by needles, but his expression remained unchanged.
"His Majesty still cherishes old feelings. If you find it inconvenient, you can change Miss Ma's identity."
Lu Xingjian casually withdrew his gaze, leaned back lazily in his chair, and tapped his slender fingers lightly on the table, his posture elegant and graceful.
"Why would I need a married woman?"
Zhang Yong raised his eyes and said in a leisurely voice, "Empress is also a remarried woman."
The moment she finished speaking, the red-clad girl's sword dance came to an end, and all around was silent, as if the air itself had frozen.
Only a gentle breeze passed by.
Lu Xingjian paused, then swept his gaze over coolly.
An invisible sense of oppression swept over, making one's scalp tingle.
"You have a problem with the Empress?"
His voice had an ethereal quality, as light as nothing.
Yet it evokes an instinctive fear.
Zhang Yong's jawline tightened as he respectfully raised the food box he had been holding.
"This servant dares not. The snacks bestowed by Her Majesty the Empress are not to be taken for granted by this servant."
A cold glint appeared in Lu Xingjian's eyes.
The girl in red standing to the side held a sword and stood there motionless.
The atmosphere was incredibly tense.
Lu Xingjian's gaze slid down slightly and landed on the carved mother-of-pearl food box.
Indifferent tone:
"You have certainly caught the Empress's eye."
Zhang Yong immediately knelt down:
"Her Majesty the Empress wishes to hire a tutor for Young Master Yan and has entrusted me with this task. I have come to ask Your Majesty for your guidance."
Lu Xingjian stood up abruptly, walked towards the girl in red, took the sword from her hand, and deftly twirled it into a sharp sword flourish.
The sword light was like a tapestry, its momentum overwhelming, and it contained a sharp killing intent.
Each strike of his sword was like a bolt of lightning, slicing through the silent air, changing the color of the wind and clouds, and sending chills down one's spine.
His eyes were sharp as knives, and the tip of his sword suddenly changed direction, aiming straight for Zhang Yong.
"ah!"
The girl in red covered her face with her hands and screamed.
Zhang Yong closed his eyes and remained motionless, letting the sharp sword blade roam freely. The sword energy, like an invisible pressure, sliced off the three-peaked hat on his head.
Crack!
The food box in Zhang Yong's hand was cleaved in two by the sword.
The beautiful jade cake, along with shards of porcelain, rolled onto the ground.
Zhang Yong remained kneeling in place, motionless, as if in deep meditation.
Lu Xingjian finally sheathed his sword.
Zhang Yong finally opened his eyes, lowered his gaze, and spoke in a calm yet solemn voice:
"Thunder and rain, all are the Emperor's grace!"
Lu Xingjian stared at him expressionlessly, his jawline taut, and after a long while, he finally spoke:
"Good composure."
Zhang Yong finally breathed a slight sigh of relief and kowtowed to request permission:
"I have no idea about Her Majesty's request to hire a tutor. I would appreciate Your Majesty's guidance."
The Emperor's sword strike clearly carried murderous intent; it was a blatant warning.
Even if he gets tired of his woman, he won't allow anyone else to covet her.
The pastries sent by the Empress could easily become Zhang Yong's death warrant if not handled properly.
Zhang Yong was a clever man. He made a point of bringing this up today to test the Emperor's limits and gain his approval.
Lu Xingjian sat down gracefully, picked up his teacup, and asked casually:
"You come to report to me with absolutely no clue?"
He casually raised his eyes as soon as he finished speaking, his gaze sharp and imposing.
Zhang Yong paused slightly, then quickly said:
"Grand Secretary Yang of the Cabinet is a man of great learning, loyal and upright, and is a suitable teacher."
Lu Xingjian interrupted him: "Using a sledgehammer to crack a nut?"
Yang Ting is both a Grand Secretary and the Emperor's tutor; it would be too conspicuous to have him as Yan Ge'er's first teacher.
It's easy for people to suspect Yan Ge'er's identity.
Following the clues leads to Yan Ge'er, which is very dangerous.
For some reason, he felt a slight prickling pain in his heart.
He was named Crown Prince from a young age, had countless famous teachers, and received countless praises.
But so what?
He was feared by his own father and walked on the edge of life and death.
Others only know the prince's nobility and glamour, but they have no idea of the humiliation and fear he once endured.
Perhaps this is why Wanwan refused to let him know about Yan Ge'er's existence.
I don't want to watch my own father and son turn against each other because of interests and power.
Lu Xingjian lowered his eyes to hide the sadness in them.
In the struggle for power, there is no room for father-son affection or husband-wife relationships.
What he longed for and hoped for was always just a mirage, a flower in a mirror.
It is something that can be admired but not reached.
Zhang Yong added, “Yang Zhen, the son of Grand Secretary Yang, studied under Chief Minister Li. He is renowned for his talent, but he is only a Juren (a successful candidate in the provincial civil service examination). It would be appropriate for him to be a tutor.”
The emperor suspected him of coveting the empress.
Only by bringing up someone who would cause the emperor even more concern could one clear oneself of suspicion.
Yang Zhen was a top scholar and a leading figure among the younger generation.
With him drawing attention away from the emperor, the emperor wouldn't have to focus his suspicions on this middle-aged eunuch.
Lu Xingjian lowered his eyes in deep thought, his expression cold.
The girl in red, who had been like a wooden doll, finally spoke, timidly saying:
"Is it the peerless and talented scholar Yang?"
Lu Xingjian finally snapped out of his daze and raised an eyebrow. "You know Yang Zhen too?"
The girl in red nodded. "The great scholar Yang is famous throughout the land. His ten poems are known to every household."
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