Becoming Puppet Emperor of a Paranoid Eunuch - Chapter 27

Wu Jing stood with his back to Ning Qinghong, and on the table lay the spread-out scrolls.

Fuchen was standing by, and with a casual glance upwards, was horrified enough to want to kneel down immediately.

The first line of the scroll read: “The Ai Emperor passed away in the nineteenth year of Taiping, dying of epilepsy—”

How could it not send shivers down one’s spine?

This scroll was copied by a spy from the Imperial Guards last night after the Thousand Years Master returned to the mansion. Fuchen was dismissed to wait outside, unaware of the purpose of this scroll.

At that time, Ning Qinghong would say a sentence, and the spy would write one down. “The Ai Emperor passed away in the nineteenth year of Taiping, dying of epilepsy.” He paused. “In fact, he was poisoned and suffered seizures. Using a three-foot white silk curtain as a three-foot coffin, he ended his own life.”

“In the tenth year of Taiping, the former Crown Prince was deposed due to defeat in battle and sent to the Eastern Palace. The Empress Dowager resented this and, at my instigation, arranged for poison to be administered by the steward of the imperial kitchen, unknown to anyone.” He spoke with a cold expression and an even tone, sounding as if he were narrating someone else’s misdeeds.

As if it were a trivial matter during leisure time.

“After the Ai Emperor contracted epilepsy and neglected state affairs, the Imperial Guards took over governance on his behalf. For the next nine years, the courtiers’ memorials were presented to me, and I handled them with a red pen.”

“I obstructed the Emperor’s sight and hearing, with the Imperial Guards being solely at my disposal, causing all the courtiers to fear me.”

As Ning Qinghong spoke, he glanced at the spy, who had started trembling as he continued writing. He smiled faintly, “Why tremble? I won’t kill you for learning about this today.”

“Trust the untrustworthy, doubt the trustworthy.”

“Keep writing with ease.”

The spy breathed a sigh of relief, gratefully bowing with the pen in hand and kneeling down, his speech so sincere that only unwavering loyalty remained, “Thank you, Master.”

Ning Qinghong took a sip of tea and continued calmly, “After the Ai Emperor’s death, the Empress Dowager regretted it and also took her own life in the inner palace. As the Ai Emperor did not designate another Crown Prince before his death, chaos ensued in the palace.”

“The Ai Emperor had five sons and two daughters in his lifetime. The eldest son from the Empress Dowager was deposed, the second and fifth sons from other consorts are currently under the care of the present Empress, and the third son from another consort is under the care of the present Consort.”

“The fourth son was mentally disabled, displeasing the Ai Emperor, and his mother, who became insane four years after childbirth, committed suicide in the Cold Palace. No one in the palace adopted the fourth son.”

“The fifth son was poisoned by the Empress Dowager immediately after birth. For the next nine years, whenever a consort in the palace became pregnant and gave birth to a son, the child would die unnaturally.”

Ning Qinghong spoke each word slowly, “After the Ai Emperor’s death, I forged his handwriting and fabricated a regent’s edict.” He recalled with closed eyes, “The former Crown Prince, imprisoned in the outskirts of the city, colluded with courtiers in the court. The Crown Prince’s faction revived, and a power struggle ensued with the second and third princes.”

“The three of them led troops to attempt a palace coup. The next day, the second prince died in the Hall of Golden Luans at the hands of the third prince. The former Crown Prince breached the city gates, entered through the Wu Gate, and killed the third prince.”

“I incited a rebellion among the Imperial Guards, presented the forged edict, and under the pretext of protecting the Emperor, ordered the Crown Prince’s execution on the spot. Then, I ordered the present Empress to adopt the fourth son, and in the Cold Palace, enthroned him as the Emperor.”

“After that, I held sole power.”

Now, Ning Qinghong looked calmly at Wu Jing, smiling faintly. He wasn’t afraid to reveal these secrets in front of the current Emperor, even though he knew the Emperor wasn’t mentally disabled, he still did so.

If he pretended to be foolish and sold himself short, the prince who had endured silently for many years would now use this scroll as leverage to threaten him and negotiate. If he were a little more foolish, he might even want to draw his sword and kill him right then and there.

Do you hate him?

Do you want to kill him?

The smile in Ning Qinghong’s eyes deepened, seeming to be anticipating something.

Wu Jing was very serious as he stared at the scrolls on the table. He had only looked at them for a moment and instinctively asked, “Brother, what is this?”

Supporting his forehead, Ning Qinghong casually smiled, “It’s one, two, three, four.”

Wu Jing suddenly reached out to touch the fourth character on the scroll.

It happened to be the character “逝,” and Fuchen glanced at it, not even daring to breathe heavily, almost collapsing to his knees.

Wu Jing looked at the two stacked strokes at the top of the character, resembling small mountains, and touched it again. The character was smudged by ink, with clumsy strokes that looked like a duck’s footprint on top.

“Brother, look, there are two little claws here!” Wu Jing exclaimed with the curiosity of discovering something novel, turning to look at Ning Qinghong, pointing to the character with surprise.

Wu Jing remembered something and went to fetch the small toy he had brought this morning, which had been placed on the imperial desk by the palace maids. It happened to be a wooden duck carved out of wood.

He accurately brought it over, turned it over, and eagerly presented the two claws underneath to Ning Qinghong to see, repeating, “Brother, look!” He emphasized, “Claws.”

Remove the webbing, and just look at the protruding parts; if stamped on paper, they were exactly the same.

Wu Jing couldn’t help but think, how magical.

So this is how “four” is written in this dynasty? It’s quite cute.

Ning Qinghong stared at Wu Jing for a while and smiled slowly, “Indeed, it does look like it. Wu Wu is really clever.” His interest seemed to grow stronger, and he continued leisurely, “The person who wrote this didn’t do it well. Brother will have to punish him later.”

Ning Qinghong paused, smiling ambiguously, “It’s just that Brother grabbed the wrong scroll. That’s not ‘four’.” He instructed, “Fuchen, bring a brazier and burn this scroll.”

Finally relieved, Fuchen replied with a pale face, “Yes.”

If this cursed thing were to be seen by someone else… Fuchen didn’t dare to think about it. He wished to start a fire on the spot and burn it quickly!

Wu Jing looked bewildered as he watched Fuchen hurry down as if being chased by a dog, stumbling several times on the way.

If it was grabbed by mistake, why burn it?

Wu Jing dared not ask, only watched helplessly as Ning Qinghong closed the scroll in front of him, set it aside, and opened the one underneath.

For some reason, he felt a chill in his heart as he looked at the smile on the man’s face. He quickly cleared his mind and prepared to learn how to write properly.

Before he even got to see what “one two three four” really looked like, Fuchen quickly returned with the brazier in hand, holding onto the wooden handles on either side. He picked up the blank scroll that had already been closed and thrown it into the brazier.

The flames quickly ignited the paper, growing larger because Fuchen was holding it close. Wu Jing couldn’t help but retreat to the side, pressing against the legs of the person behind him, stumbling and falling onto the person’s lap.

Before he could react, he found himself sitting on someone else’s thigh again.

Feeling somewhat guilty, Wu Jing prepared to stand up as if nothing had happened. Just as he was about to move, his shoulder was held down by someone. Ning Qinghong lifted his eyes slightly and whispered in his ear, “Stay seated, I’m not punishing you.”

“Standing for so long would make your legs sore, and Wu Wu might end up crying again.” He chuckled, “Alright, Brother will teach Wu Wu how to recognize characters.”

The close distance between them made his words almost like a whisper in his ear, tickling Wu Jing’s earlobes.

As the flames crackled, Ning Qinghong’s soft laughter sounded in his ears, adding a hint of eerie playfulness to the scene of playing with fire.

Wu Jing simply repeated Ning Qinghong’s words, “Teach Wu Wu how to recognize characters.”

Ning Qinghong opened the scroll in front of Wu Jing.

Wu Jing looked at it earnestly, and the first four characters on the first page gave him a sense of familiarity. Indeed, no matter the dynasty, “one two three four” were all written the same way, simple and plain.

Except that “four” had four horizontal strokes instead of one.

The rest of the characters like “five six eight seven…” started to look strange again, leaving Wu Jing puzzled.

He didn’t doubt such simple characters at all, so why did Ning Qinghong grab the wrong scroll, and was it too suspicious that he learned so quickly?

How could he pretend to be foolish while learning characters?

Wu Jing followed the same method as last time, awkwardly picking up the wolf hair brush on the mountain with a clenched fist gesture, and putting his hand into Ning Qinghong’s hand.

He was so clumsy that he even stained his own clothes with ink.

Wu Jing said earnestly, “Brother, teach Wu Wu.”

Ning Qinghong chuckled and tightened his grip on Wu Jing’s hand. “Alright.”

Fuchen had been holding the brazier all this time. After the flames completely consumed the scroll, he saw the Master raise his fingertip, and only then did he bring the brazier down. When he returned, he saw that the Master hadn’t even corrected the assignments. At this moment, he was slowly writing down the ridiculous “one two three—” on the spread-out blank paper with the Emperor’s hand. 

It seemed like he was really interested in teaching the Emperor.

Wu Jing was being guided to write while someone held his hand, and he hardly exerted any effort. Ning Qinghong helped him write three times before letting go of his hand. “Now, Wu Wu, write it by yourself.”

Wu Jing was at a loss, “Write?”

Ning Qinghong spoke gently, “Like Brother, write ink on the white paper.”

Wu Jing tentatively drew a line, feeling like he had found a new toy. Holding the crayon, he drew, creating one line, two lines, three lines. He had never learned brush calligraphy before, so he intentionally made each line the same length and thickness. It looked very ugly.

Yes, Wu Jing was quite satisfied.

He followed Ning Qinghong’s lead and drew three times, muttering, “One, two, three, one, two, three…”

Fuchen couldn’t help but feel a headache. He didn’t know what the Thousand Years Master was thinking. He insisted on teaching the Emperor, who acted like a fool, how to write. It wouldn’t be easy to teach him, and it would likely take up a lot of time every day.

Today, he didn’t know why the Emperor was shown such a cursed thing. Could it be… Fuchen couldn’t help but look carefully at the Emperor’s eyes again, remembering the Thousand Years Master’s abnormal behavior last night.

A bold idea flashed through his mind, but he didn’t dare to dwell on it.

After observing for a few days, he really couldn’t tell if the Emperor was pretending. But the way the Thousand Years Master acted made him sure.

Why hadn’t he erupted yet? Was it because he found it amusing and wanted to wait for the Emperor to reveal himself? But…

Fuchen looked at the Emperor, who was innocently asking what “one two three” meant, and couldn’t help but overturn his previous speculation.

Just as the Thousand Years Master had said before, if he was pretending, it was too convincing.

Ning Qinghong looked at Wu Jing with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile and instructed, “Fuchen, bring a plate of pastries.”

A plate of osmanthus cakes was immediately brought over by Fuchen and placed on the paper filled with “one two three” at Ning Qinghong’s gesture.

Because Wu Jing had liked to eat them before, he could always see a plate of osmanthus cakes prepared whenever he came to Ning Qinghong’s place.

But last time he was fed until he had a psychological shadow and hadn’t touched them for a long time. Now, looking at the plate of pastries, he couldn’t help but feel a little tempted.

Wu Jing swallowed his saliva,

Hold on!

Ning Qinghong then had Fuchen bring an empty porcelain plate and a pair of jade chopsticks, which he held between his fingers like jade. There were four pieces of pastry on the plate.

Wu Jing watched as one piece was picked up by the jade chopsticks and placed in the empty porcelain plate.

“If Wu Wu eats one piece,” Ning Qinghong then picked up another piece of pastry and placed it in the porcelain plate, “Wu Wu eats another piece.”

He asked, “So how many pieces did Wu Wu eat?”

Wu Jing looked at Ning Qinghong, then at the plate of osmanthus cakes, feeling a little hesitant. He was afraid of angering Ning Qinghong, but… only by doing this could he both act well and eat well.

He was a fool,

Forgive him.

Wu Jing decisively grabbed two pieces of pastry and stacked them together before stuffing them into his mouth, mumbling unclearly, “Wu Wu ate them.”

He looked at Ning Qinghong eagerly, as if wanting praise.

Ning Qinghong smiled.

Author’s Note:

Spy: A spy’s life is also a life (lol)

“逝” is a Chinese character pronounced as “shì” in Mandarin. It means “to pass away” or “to die.” It’s often used in contexts related to someone’s death or the passage of time.