Becoming Puppet Emperor of a Paranoid Eunuch - Chapter 74

The carriage swayed as it left the residence.

 

Wu Jing sat in the familiar spot, by the window of the carriage, slowly eating a pie wrapped in oil paper.

 

On the table was a food box filled with a variety of dishes. He had drunk a small portion of crab congee and eaten some warm sweet cheese, and the pie was filled with flavorful minced meat.

 

Since they had missed the breakfast time, he had to eat on the carriage.

 

Wu Jing ate slowly, sipping some tea to cleanse his palate, feeling quite comfortable.

 

The carriage was the same as the one used when he left with Ning Qinghong. Even in his absence, nothing seemed to have been spared.

 

As Wu Jing ate, he glanced occasionally at the spot where Ning Qinghong would usually sit. The white tiger cushion was now empty.

 

He recalled what Fu Chen had said and worried about going to the new place. He thought about Ning Qinghong and wondered what illness he had. He wondered if the medication he had been taking was due to this condition. Epilepsy was too vague; mental illnesses had many classifications.

 

Wu Jing couldn’t reconcile the concept of mental illness with Ning Qinghong. It wasn’t that Ning Qinghong didn’t seem normal; it was just that he didn’t fit the description of those three words at all.

 

He couldn’t imagine such a scene.

 

He even thought that Fu Chen might be deceiving him, using Ning Qinghong’s condition as an excuse to avoid seeing him. Yet, Wu Jing had a vague feeling that something had been off with Ning Qinghong before.

 

Which normal person would sleep all day holding someone else? And often wake up in the middle of the night.

 

Wu Jing couldn’t clearly describe his feelings; he was only vaguely thinking that the information he received was too general. Fu Chen’s brief comments didn’t give him a clear picture of the situation.

 

He felt a bit confused and disbelieving, with some guilt for having previously secretly criticized Ning Qinghong. He didn’t know if Ning Qinghong really had a mental illness.

 

But was it true?

 

If it was true, had Ning Qinghong already prepared for Fu Chen to take him away during times of emotional instability?

 

Had it been planned for a long time?

 

When did Ning Qinghong’s bad mood begin?

 

Was it when he had held him while sleeping on the chair?

 

If so, why had he not sent him away then?

 

And why now?

 

Wu Jing had many questions that he couldn’t figure out on his own. He just kept recalling Fu Chen’s words.

 

The previous unpleasant and distressing feelings had disappeared. Sitting in the spacious carriage, eating the delicious and warm pie, he wasn’t very afraid of going to a strange place and staying with unfamiliar people for study.

 

He felt inexplicably reassured.

 

The tea he drank was the same that Ning Qinghong usually enjoyed. A pie costing a fortune, and the tea was brewed with water from a well in Lintang, delivered daily to the residence.

 

Even today’s clothes were chosen by Ning Qinghong.

 

A cream-colored long robe with wide sleeves, decorated with subtle, intricate cloud patterns, and tied with a few circles of thin red rope at the waist.

 

Since he was going to study, he couldn’t dress too extravagantly.

 

Though understated, the outfit was not plain. It clearly showed that it was selected by Ning Qinghong, or rather, that Ning Qinghong had chosen all his clothes, as he never wore the same outfit twice.

 

Wu Jing looked at the embroidered “Ning” character on his clothing, feeling that the arrangement was to prevent him from getting lost if he couldn’t read. It was like sending a young child to school for the first time.

 

His ears felt a bit warm. Holding the cup, he drank some tea and wondered if he should continue to be silent. He didn’t even know where Ning Qinghong was now.

 

He wanted to ask Fu Chen but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

 

He remembered the wooden ruler that had made him cry and thought about the term “epilepsy.”

 

Conflicted, he stopped eating the pie, habitually fiddling with his hands and thinking slowly.

 

“Master, we’ve arrived,” Fu Chen, pretending to be an ordinary servant, lightly tapped the carriage’s curtain and called the servants to move the footstool. He then lifted the carriage curtain and said, “Come down quickly.”

 

He addressed the young master.

 

Wu Jing hesitated for a moment, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, washed his hands in the copper basin, dried them, and carefully poked his head out.

 

Since the carriage had stopped in a secluded area, there were no people in sight, only passing carriages.

 

The young master looked around, stepped down from the low stool, and before he could react, saw Fu Chen leading someone to him, who greeted him respectfully, “This is the servant arranged for you at the academy. Please recognize him.”

 

The servant, with a fair and delicate face, no beard, and appearing quite young, was clearly from the Inner Guard, disguised as a young servant. He said, “Master, I will call you ‘Young Master’ at the academy.”

 

Wu Jing nodded.

 

The servant held a cloth bag and said, “Young Master, I’ll take you into the Guozijian to meet the teacher and your fellow students.”

 

Wu Jing pressed his lips together and nodded again.

 

After circling the carriage, he walked ahead and soon saw a large gate with the inscription “Guozijian” (Imperial Academy). The aroma of books and the sound of recitations were palpable from afar. Carriages were constantly arriving and departing, and many students were coming and going.

 

From the outside, the place looked lush and green.

 

Wrapped in a white fox fur cloak, Wu Jing followed the young servant inside, looking around with curiosity. People moved quickly, some engaged in animated conversations or discussions.

 

Being alone and unfamiliar, no one spoke to him.

 

After about a quarter of an hour, they passed through a garden and entered a side courtyard. Wu Jing saw a bright and spacious classroom. The young servant led him through the back door and seated him.

 

The servant arranged the writing supplies from the cloth bag and set out the books and papers on the desk.

 

He then removed Wu Jing’s fox fur cloak and, like Fu Chen, explained carefully, “Young Master, this will be your place from now on. You will sit here alone with no one beside you. I have already discussed everything with the head of the academy, so you need not worry about anything. Just focus on your studies.”

 

“When the bell rings for breaks, I will bring you tea and snacks. If you need to use the restroom, I will take you there.”

 

“Rest assured, the other students won’t bother you.”

 

Wu Jing nodded and softly said, “Thank you.”

 

The young servant smiled and left.

 

Once alone, Wu Jing took the opportunity to observe his surroundings. Most of the students in the room were about fifteen or sixteen years old. Their postures were casual; some were sitting cross-legged or reclining on cushions, talking loudly, eating, and drinking.

 

Despite their casual behavior, each of them seemed to be from a wealthy family.

 

Some of them glanced at Wu Jing but did not approach or engage in conversation, perhaps feeling disdainful.

 

Wu Jing sat by himself, flipping through the books and papers with some boredom, and curiously peered outside. He saw an elderly man with a white beard, dressed in a green official robe, walking slowly with a wooden staff, his face kind.

 

As he entered, the bell rang.

 

Wu Jing turned around to see the rest of the room’s occupants sitting properly. He quickly kneeled and sat up straight.

 

The old teacher looked at him with a cheerful expression, “So you are the young master entrusted to me by the head?”

 

So, Ning Qinghong hadn’t come directly to find him?

 

There had been some layers of connections involved?

 

Wu Jing nodded, “Yes.”

 

His voice was barely audible.

 

The old teacher did not hear clearly and asked again. Someone among the students loudly said, “Teacher, he says he is.” The room erupted in laughter.

 

Wu Jing’s face turned red from embarrassment, and he lowered his head.

 

He heard the teacher ask, “What is your name?”

 

Wu Jing opened his mouth and said, “My surname is Ning, and my name is… Ning Jing.”

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the room fell silent.

 

Wu Jing felt that the students who had laughed at him earlier now looked uncertain, glancing at him, their expressions changing. They quickly turned away and fell silent.

 

The old teacher’s expression changed slightly as he asked again, “Your surname is Ning?”

 

Wu Jing, feeling nervous, nodded.

 

The old teacher said, “Good, good.” He then addressed the others, “Today we will study the poem on page twenty-two of the blue-covered book.”

 

Blue, page twenty-two.

 

Wu Jing hurriedly searched through the stack of books and papers for that page. Unaware that the old teacher was watching him, he finally found the page. The teacher then said, “It is from Mencius, the sixth section of the Gong Sun Chou chapter, read from right to left—‘Every person has a heart that cannot bear to see others suffer…’”

 

Wu Jing felt that the old teacher spoke each word very slowly. Perhaps due to old age, he didn’t seem to struggle with speaking, but it was slow.

 

Even so, the old teacher read only once.

 

To remember the text, Wu Jing dipped his pen into the freshly ground ink and wrote the simplified characters on the paper, matching each phrase as the teacher read. He tried to keep his writing hidden, glancing only when necessary.

 

However, as the old teacher explained each phrase, Wu Jing struggled to keep up, becoming confused and overwhelmed. He lost track of what the teacher was saying.

 

In the end, he gave up listening and focused on his own learning.

 

The young master earnestly practiced writing, forgetting about the bell. It was only when someone asked in front that he looked up in confusion.

 

A young master in front of him turned around and asked, “Which ‘Ning’ do you use?” He then awkwardly added, “I’m just asking.”

 

Wu Jing covered the paper with the simplified characters and pulled out a fresh sheet, “I can write it.” He instinctively said, then realized his mistake, shaking his head and awkwardly asking, “Can I show it to you?”

 

The young master nodded eagerly.

 

Wu Jing carefully wrote the character “Ning” as used by Ning Qinghong on the paper, “This Ning.”

 

The young master grabbed the paper and said, “Let me see.” Soon, others gathered around to look as well. Once they saw the character “Ning,” they all froze, swallowed hard, and returned to their seats.

 

The young master sheepishly returned the paper, carefully placing it back, “Here you go.”

 

Wu Jing looked at him in confusion, “What’s wrong?”

 

The young master shook his head, “Nothing, nothing.” He added, “If you have any questions, don’t ask me. Well, you can ask me, but it’s better to ask them.” He gestured to the others and added, “I won’t bother Young Master Ning any further.”

 

Wu Jing looked carefully at the character “Ning” he had written, confirming it was correct, and then mentally complained.

 

Why were these people so strange?

 

**Author’s Note:**

 

Qinghong: Not around, but can protect the wife (just kidding)

 

Wuwu: Confused.jpg