Becoming Puppet Emperor of a Paranoid Eunuch - Chapter 23

That little tabby was particularly affectionate, whether it was because it had just been born not long ago and had suffered outside before being found and brought back, or if it was just naturally docile.

 

Entwining around Wu Jing’s fingers, it was exceptionally clingy.

 

Anyone could see that the Emperor treasured it dearly.

 

After obtaining the permission of the Emperor, Wu Jing pinched the cat’s ears, picked up the little tabby, and almost buried his face in its soft fur.

 

Ning Qinghong wiped away the cat hair that got into Wu Jing’s eyes and chuckled, “I wonder where you picked up this habit from.”

 

Just now, he had hugged him and went straight into his arms.

 

Apart from burying his face in cloth tigers and kittens, he would also bury himself in people.

 

Wu Jing looked up, quietly letting someone wipe away the cat hair with a wet cloth. The little tabby was returned to the Empress Dowager as it should, and Wu Jing obediently returned it to the palace attendant, not throwing a tantrum and refusing to let go, but obediently handing it back.

 

Now he was covered in dog hair and cat hair.

 

Ning Qinghong couldn’t possibly clean it all with just one cloth. He sighed softly, as if scolding a naughty child who had run out of the house and got covered in mud, he put away the cloth as a punishment and used his fingertips to wipe the red corners of Wu Jing’s eyes, irritated by the cat hair.

 

“Take His Majesty back to the Yangxin Palace to wash up.”

 

He gave the order.

 

The palace attendants immediately got busy. Hearing this, Wu Jing seemed unwilling to leave and wanted to stay in the imperial garden, or simply leave the palace like this. So, sticking to his character, he grabbed Ning Qinghong’s clothes and refused to let go, looking pitifully at him.

 

Seeing this scene, Fu Chen couldn’t make up his mind for a moment. The sedan chair that was supposed to take them back to the mansion was waiting at the east gate. He had to ask, “Your Highness, do you want to leave the palace in a sedan chair?”

 

Apart from this ingeniously crafted scenery in the palace, there was nowhere else in the palace that the Emperor was interested in playing. Before meeting the Emperor, after the morning court session and discussions with the ministers in the Yueji Hall, the master would specially visit the imperial garden and then take a sedan chair around before leaving the palace through the east gate and returning to the mansion. The documents would also be taken back together.

 

Yesterday, the master had dealt with ten days’ worth of matters in the palace all day, and more than ten days before that was when His Majesty caught a cold.

 

But today, he had finished approving the documents early in the morning. Fu Chen couldn’t figure out what His Highness’s intentions were. He didn’t beat around the bush and asked directly.

 

Clearly, he knew his master’s temper well.

 

In terms of understanding human nature and calculating, perhaps no one was better than Ning Qinghong. So, the others stuttered in front of him, trying to please him with words, but Ning Qinghong could see through their intentions at a glance.

 

If it was fake, it was fine, but even guessing wouldn’t work.

 

It was stupid and spoiled the mood.

 

Ning Qinghong glanced at Wu Jing, who was playing with his clothes, and said helplessly, “Let’s go to the Yangxin Palace first.” He reached back and brushed Wu Jing’s hand away from his clothes. “Wuwu, let’s go.”

 

Wu Jing stared at the crumpled sleeve that he had rubbed and remembered when he first met Ning Qinghong, the wrinkles on his clothes had to be ironed flat with a gold iron.

 

He nodded slightly, feeling a little guilty.

 

The palace attendants in the Yangxin Palace had already been ordered and had prepared the hot tub. Now Wu Jing wouldn’t just stay in the sleeping quarters and bathe in a wooden tub. He was treated as an emperor and carefully taken care of.

 

Bathing was like soaking in a hot spring, with steam rising from the surface of the pool.

 

Ning Qinghong only sent him there and watched as the palace attendants followed him in to serve him. He didn’t know if Wu Jing would drive these people behind the screen and wash by himself.

 

He stood outside and looked at the clothes brought by the palace attendants.

 

Each piece was meticulously crafted palace attire, and the most familiar one was a set of white clothes with red patterns, followed by a regular outfit with a yellow base embroidered with begonia flowers…

 

The Emperor was still young, and his clothes were all brightly colored. Each one secretly showed off.

 

Ning Qinghong picked a piece of silk fabric with red and white stripes. His taste was excellent, with golden embroidery and complicated patterns covering almost half of the fabric, suppressing the gaudiness of the red fabric, leaving only the word “precious.”

 

He didn’t wait long, and soon the Emperor changed into his clothes and came out. Ning Qinghong raised his hand, “Come here.”

 

Wu Jing, with wet hair and the sound of clogs clacking, called out in confusion, “Brother?”

 

Ning Qinghong smiled slightly, seeming very satisfied, as if he had stayed just to see what the Emperor looked like in the clothes he picked out. Then he lowered his eyes and meticulously straightened Wu Jing’s clothes, “Go play.”

 

He brushed aside Wu Jing’s hand, which was trying to tug on his clothes again. “Be obedient.”

 

Ning Qinghong left as silently as he had come, and at the moment he stepped out of the hall, the palace attendants in the Yangxin Palace changed, completing the handover.

 

When Wu Jing was brought back to the sleeping quarters by the palace attendants, he saw Yanhe waiting at the door of the sleeping quarters.

 

For some reason, when Yanhe saw him clearly, her expression seemed very ugly? Wu Jing felt a chill running down his spine under her scrutinizing gaze, feeling uncomfortable everywhere.

 

Yanhe didn’t hesitate. “Burn it. What’s the point of keeping something that can’t bear the light?”

 

A setup out of the blue.

 

Yanhe had now become the steward palace maid of the Yangxin Palace, with some authority, which the palace maids duly acknowledged.

 

Wu Jing was left utterly confused.

 

He was led to sit on a stool, while Yanhe used a dry cloth to wipe his hair. Wu Jing nibbled on a snack, murmuring a thank you between bites. “Thank you, Sister Yanhe.”

 

Yanhe paused for a moment in her hair-wiping motion, then continued. After a while, she sighed, seemingly weary. Her emotional outburst was fleeting, as she respectfully arranged the damp cloth.

 

She focused on drying the water droplets from the ends of Wu Jing’s hair.

 

“Your Majesty, please rise first,” Yanhe said.

 

Wu Jing looked at her bewilderedly.

 

The youth’s gaze remained as pure as ever.

 

Yet Yanhe averted her eyes, a sense of guilt creeping into her heart. She repeated, “First, get up from the chair.”

 

Wu Jing stood up in confusion, staring at Yanhe. Just like before, she checked his hands and feet, inspecting his forearms and shins, growing more puzzled. “Wu Wu didn’t fall.”

 

In the past, to feign foolishness, he would often pretend to trip when running, occasionally scraping himself and leaving behind a patch of red.

 

He thought Sister Yanhe was worried he might run off to play and hurt himself again.

 

Yanhe hesitated for a moment, then made up her mind. Glancing around and finding no one nearby—she had dismissed all the palace attendants—she swiftly slipped something into Wu Jing’s hand. It was small and delicate, and before he could see it, Yanhe spoke sternly, “If you feel any pain, use this to apply it yourself. Understand?”

 

“This is our little secret.”

 

“Absolutely, absolutely, don’t tell anyone else.”

 

Wu Jing could only repeat her words, “Don’t tell anyone?”

 

Yanhe nodded. “A secret.”

 

Wu Jing nodded vigorously, as if he understood.

 

Yanhe breathed a sigh of relief, a hint of guilt flashing in her eyes. With his assurance, she turned and hurried away.

 

Only then did Wu Jing lower his head and examine the small box that had been stuffed into his hand. It was a simple wooden box that didn’t look particularly valuable. He carefully opened it to find a layer of oil paper inside, on top of which was a lump of white ointment, emitting a medicinal scent.

 

What was this?

 

Wu Jing dabbed a bit with his fingers. The ointment easily spread with warmth, forming a slightly oily, translucent gel.

 

Was it for external use? 

 

He was intrigued by the ointment, wondering why Yanhe had secretly given it to him. She had emphasized applying it wherever he felt pain.

 

He leaned on the desk, pondering for a while, but couldn’t figure it out, and dusk was approaching.

 

He didn’t mind its simplicity, but wiped his hands clean with a cloth, intending to put the small wooden box away. He knew that when Yanhe worked in the Yangxin Palace, her life probably wasn’t any better than that of the former emperor.

 

Previously, when he caught a fish, although Yanhe promised to help him cook it, she could barely eat half a piece before noticing.

 

People in the palace only knew how to serve others, with few literate ones among them, and there were no good things to be found, especially for someone like Yanhe, who didn’t have a good master and didn’t have much savings.

 

This ointment must be precious to Yanhe.

 

He listened to Yanhe’s words, treasuring the wooden box and hiding it in his sleeve, without telling anyone.

 

Even though he didn’t know what it was for.

 

After having dinner, Wu Jing finished washing up and soon prepared to sleep. When all the palace attendants in the sleeping chamber had left, he cautiously got off the bed, intending to hide the wooden box under the bed.

 

As he bent down to look, he found two plates stacked with several pieces of broken stones and a set of nine interconnected iron rings.

 

Wu Jing hadn’t yet realized when he had hidden these things himself. After a moment, he remembered what they were, hastily stuffing the wooden box in and then scrambling to search his entire bed.

 

He had forgotten about the rod hidden in there.

 

Even if the palace attendants who helped him tidy up the bed found it, they probably wouldn’t know what it was, right? Although the Nine Linked Rings had been deciphered into many regular solutions similar to Rubik’s Cube in modern times, not everyone could play with them nowadays.

 

Most likely, the attendants would just pack that thing up with the little toys Ning Qinghong had given him.

 

With some free time now and no need to worry about someone coming in, Wu Jing turned his bed upside down in search. He didn’t find his cloth tiger, tambourine, or clay figurine… but he did find a wooden duck carved from wood?

 

It was round and chubby, coated with varnish, and the wood was smooth.

 

Wu Jing had just rummaged through everything, scattering the toys the attendants had neatly stacked, finding a wooden carving here, a small porcelain lamb there, and something similar to a tumbler.

 

Also known as a Huangpang, it was also a favorite toy for children.

 

But Wu Jing was clueless.

 

There was even a new cloth tiger, a different style, but softer.

 

Nine Thousand Years was true to his word and indeed found new toys for him, which had already been sent into the palace and stacked in Wu Jing’s bedchamber by the attendants.

 

The old toys had all been taken away.

 

With the lights out outside, Wu Jing looked around by moonlight but didn’t see where the attendants had taken them. He could only reassure himself that they must have been disposed of.

 

If he, the rightful owner, couldn’t find them, how could anyone else?

 

Wu Jing tidied up his bed again, curled up under the covers with the new cloth tiger in his arms. He tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, his mind filled with random thoughts.

 

He held the cloth tiger close to his neck.

 

He could still smell the medicinal scent on his fingertips. Wu Jing’s thoughts wandered, thinking again of how Yanhe had checked him for injuries.

 

He vaguely thought of something, but it was obscured by a fog and he couldn’t see clearly.

 

Why burn clothes?

 

What couldn’t bear the light?

 

Why suddenly give him medicine?

 

Was it because Ning Qinghong had bullied him and hit him?

 

But if Wu Jing had cried out in pain earlier, how could he have kept quiet? There’s nothing shameful about hitting someone.

 

Wu Jing pondered, suddenly sitting up, then swallowing and lying back down slowly, burying his face in the new cloth tiger.

 

How could that be?

 

He must be mistaken.

 

How could he think like that?

 

*Being a fool is against the law.

 

Wu Jing silenced himself in his mind and stopped thinking further.

 

Author’s note:

 

Yanhe: Oh no, I accidentally helped him (Translator’s note: implying she unwittingly helped Wu Jing hide the toys).