Rong Shuang didn’t really have any impression of that Minister Yang Shu, but from Qin Tianyang’s brief remarks, he could guess the gist of it—the former Senior Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat who’d been forced out by the original host. 

And he was a capable statesman who could command the respect of the entire Grand Secretariat. Wow.

It seems like Rong Zhihuan has managed to offend everyone who’s worth offending, and he’s turned the political climate in Great Liang into a total mess.

Rong Shuang: “……”

Sure enough, lies don’t hurt people—the truth is the sharpest blade. I don’t want to live anymore.

He wandered all the way to Qide Hall, only to be stopped at the entrance by Huang Lian.

Huang Lian put on a smile: “Lord Rong, His Majesty and Prince Ning are practicing archery on the Golden Platform. Please come with this servant.” 

Rong Shuang’s first thought was, “What? Are they going to use me as a target?”

Huang Lian took the lead, but when he saw Rong Shuang hadn’t followed, he turned back: “Hurry up, Lord Rong.” 

Rong Shuang: “Oh.”

Then he added, “Thank you for showing me the way, Eunuch Huang. Do you accept payment?” 

Huang Lian nearly stumbled backward, gritting his teeth: “Serving His Majesty is this servant’s duty—I won’t accept any payment.” 

He cursed inwardly: As if he’d actually give me any if I said I’d take it.

Rong Shuang’s eyes crinkled as he clapped his hands. “His Majesty will surely be very pleased to hear this.” Huang Lian said nothing and hurried off.

After turning several times along the colonnade surrounding Qide Hall and climbing quite a few steps, they arrived at what Huang Lian had called the “Golden Platform.”

Though called a “platform,” it actually resembled a shooting range more than anything else. To the east stood a pavilion with jade-green tiles and red lacquer—presumably a resting place—and beyond the gilded railing lay.

Next to several archery pavilions, one could see from a distance that there were quite a few bow racks and arrow racks inside.

Ying Wujiu was testing his bow with Ying Yin, while Rong Shuang tiptoed quietly over and stopped slightly behind and to the side to watch. 

Although the Prince Ning was still young, his skills were nothing short of exceptional. Last time, Rong Shuang had seen him wield a spear in the courtyard—his movements were as smooth as flowing clouds and water, truly a sight to behold.

Ying Yin had also let him try that red-plumed spear once; at the time, it had sent him tumbling head over heels. Old Ge had told him that the silver spear was a gift from the late Emperor and was considerably heavier than an ordinary spear.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, the whistling sound of an arrow reached his ears, followed immediately by a loud thud from the target several dozen meters away—it had struck the bullseye.

Ying Yin raised his hand to his brow and gazed into the distance for a moment, then said happily, “Fourteenth Brother! Your humble younger brother has made progress again! I told you long ago that I could handle this bow! Now, drawing a one-shi bow is no problem at all!”

Ying Wujiu was not stingy with his praise: “You’ve made great progress.”

Rong Shuang covered his mouth and asked Huang Lian, “How many jin of strength does it take to draw a one-shi bow?”

Huang Lian showed not the slightest sign of irritation in the Emperor’s presence, replying with a cheerful smile, “In response to Lord Rong, it requires one hundred and twenty jin.” Rong Shuang marveled at both Ying Yin’s natural talent and Huang Lian’s astonishing ability to change his demeanor on a dime.

Huang Lian: “If Lord Rong is curious, you’re welcome to try it yourself.” 

Rong Shuang looked at Huang Lian: “Eunuch.”

“Actually, I still prefer the way you used to be—rebellious and unruly.”

Huang Lian:“……”

I really should sew this guy’s mouth shut.

Rong Shuang blinked, his smile still lingering on his face. As he turned his head, he met Ying Wujiu’s scrutinizing gaze. He immediately wiped the smile off his face, looked down at his shoes, and pursed his lips, pretending to be well-behaved.

Ying Wujiu casually looked away, ignoring him, and simply dismissed Huang Lian. Only the two men testing their bows and Rong Shuang remained on the Golden Platform.

Ying Wujiu picked up a heavy, gilded bow: “Tomorrow, have Li Yan take you to the Capital Encampment to get acquainted. Go to the Black Armor Corps and Dingyuan Corps—these two units were recently disbanded and incorporated into the personal guard that accompanied us from Lingzhou, so they’re still quite disorganized. Later, follow Chai Fu’s lead and reorganize them properly.”

Ying Yin replied, “Yes! Your humble servant obeys your command!”

With that, he respectfully handed the Emperor a feathered arrow.

“By the way, does General Chai still dislike bathing as much as he did back in Lingzhou?”

Ying Wujiu placed two fingers on the arrow and nocked it onto the bowstring: “Don’t be rude.” 

Ying Yin: “Oh.”

Rong Shuang listened half-heartedly, his mind still preoccupied with the matter of the former Senior Grand Secretary, Yang Shu.

It’s truly a shame that such a loyal minister and capable statesman cannot serve the Great Liang Dynasty and its people—especially since he was forced out by the original owner. Now this mountain of crap code could crash at any moment… If only we could bring Yang Shu back. Just as he was lost in thought, his mind wandering so far away that he’d lost track of time, a hand suddenly waved in front of his eyes.

“Lord Rong, my fourteenth older brother is calling for you.”

Rong Shuang looked up: “?”

What’s going on?

Ying Yin had put away his bow at some point and looked ready to leave: “Well then, this humble subject is off to see the Young Marquis. He said he’d be treating me to a meal today.”

As he spoke, he glanced again at the dazed Rong Shuang, feeling somewhat tempted to complain to the Emperor once more about the recent meals at the Rong residence. It wasn’t that he wasn’t getting enough to eat—it was just that the food was so bland it was driving him crazy.

In the end, however, Ying Yin said nothing. After all, although Lord Rong was stingy, the food in the mansion was always served to him first. After Prince Ning left, Rong Shuang finally snapped out of it.

He hurried forward two steps: “Your Majesty, I’m here!”

Ying Wujiu: “I hear you’d like to try this bow, Lord Rong”

Rong Shuang’s expression froze for a second. What?

Ying Wujiu raised his eyes and fixed them on him, saying nothing. Rong Shuang hesitated for a moment, tentatively trying to make sense of it, and it seemed he truly grasped the implication—if the Emperor says you want to try it, then you want to try it; even if you don’t, you have to at least pretend you do.

Rong Shuang took a deep breath and broke into a smile: “I’d love to try it—I’d love to try it. Your humble servant has never even held a bow before.”

He stepped forward and obediently took the gilded bow. The moment he held it in his hands, he stumbled backward. It was so heavy. 

He forced a smile onto his face, the corners of his lips curving upward as he looked at the emperor: “Your Majesty, what a… magnificent bow.” 

Ying Wujiu eyed him as he struggled mightily to steady the bow.

Rong Shuang took a second deep breath and pulled the bowstring with all his might.

It didn’t budge an inch. Hahahaha. 

This is so annoying. 

Ying Wujiu wasn’t going to make him shoot at a target with a bow this heavy, was he? The kind where you’re not allowed to leave the Golden Platform unless you hit the bullseye…

After pulling at it for ages, just as he was thinking about begging for mercy, the bow in his hands was suddenly seized. Everything went black, and the world spun, then a low, languid voice came from above: “Lord Rong, let’s make a bet.”

Rong Shuang lifted his head frame by frame, belatedly realizing that Ying Wujiu had pulled him into his embrace. The body behind him felt like a wall—hot, solid, and immovable.

His hand was encased within another, pressed firmly against the arrow. The force was so strong that it made him feel the bow wasn’t actually that hard to draw after all. And the calluses on Ying Wujiu’s hands were so rough—ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

He wiggled his fingers slightly, and the voice from above was suddenly right next to his ear: “Dare to move around while drawing such a heavy bow? Do you want to lose your fingers?” Rong Shuang instantly snapped to attention: “I’m sorry.”

Ying Wujiu chuckled softly, then said, “Ask me what I’m betting on.”

Rong Shuang thought, “Whatever he says, that’s what we’re betting on.” His mind raced for a moment before it clicked—Huh?? His internal alarm went off sharply.

Ying Wujiu always used this tone whenever he was about to trick him!!! Rong Shuang’s face fell slightly, and he asked in a low voice, “Your Majesty, can we just not bet?” 

“What do you think?”

Rong Shuang:“……”

Once again, that commanding tone rang in his ears: “Ask.”

Ask, ask, ask, ask, ask—fine, I’ll ask!

Rong Shuang: “What are we betting on, Your Majesty?”

Ying Wujiu: “Let’s bet on whether this arrow of mine can hit the bullseye.”

Rong Shuang quickly nodded: “You’ll hit it, you’ll hit it!”

Ying Wujiu ignored his words and continued, “I’ve been losing sleep lately due to my many worries. If I hit the bullseye, would it be acceptable for you, Lord Rong, to come to the palace every night to recite sutras and offer prayers?”

Rong Shuang: “……”

Ying Wujiu: “Answer me.”

Rong Shuang pulled himself together: “Yes, yes, yes!”

Ying Wujiu suddenly tightened his grip and said, “Since Lord Rong has set up this wager, I suppose I have no choice but to give it a try.”

Rong Shuangxin thought, Why the hell are you calling a deer a horse? You fucking…

The bowstring was drawn back little by little until it formed a full-moon arc; an arrow shot through the air, and in the blink of an eye, the target erupted with a thunderous crash.

“Boom!”

All that remained in his ears was the sound of the wind and birdsong.

Rong Shuang’s eyes widened slightly, and it took him a long while to catch his breath.

“It seems you’ve lost, Lord Rong.”

The emperor behind him still hadn’t let go of him after firing that arrow. Lowering his gaze, he murmured, “Will you accept the consequences of your bet?”

The warmth mingled with the scent of agarwood sent a shiver down Rong Shuang’s spine, and goosebumps spread from the side of his neck to his back. He ground out the words through clenched teeth: “I’ll accept the consequences.”

Ying Wujiu smiled with satisfaction. “Do you know what I like most about you, Lord Rong?”

Rong Shuang thought to himself, It’s quite a feat that you’ve ever even liked me.

Ying Wujiu: “You’re a bit slow, but at least you’re obedient.”

Rong Shuang was completely numb at that moment and didn’t even notice anything amiss with that compliment. He merely forced a smile and replied absentmindedly, “Thank you, Your Majesty…”

Ying Wujiu loosened his grip, casting a fleeting glance at the young man in his arms, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Report to the palace before the Hour of the Pig.”

Rong Shuang hurriedly nodded.

After all that beating around the bush, why didn’t you just give a direct order saying, “If you don’t come, I’ll have you beheaded”?

Only now did a cold sweat break out on Rong Shuang’s back—Ying Wujiu had pulled out every underhanded trick in the book on him.

It wasn’t until around noon that he was finally allowed to leave the palace. Just as he was buying steamed buns at the East Market, he ran into Qin Tianyang’s carriage—but this time, two heads peeked out from behind the curtain: Qin Tianyang and Ying Yin.

Qin Tianyang’s expression was hard to describe: “Did they subject you to severe torture in the palace?”

Rong Shuang figured his face must look pretty rough right now. He took a bite of his steamed bun: “Something like that. Mainly, I’m just a little hungry.”

Ying Yin said, “Then why don’t you join us, Lord Rong? We’re just about to go eat!”

Rong Shuang glanced at Qin Tianyang.

Qin Tianyang exclaimed, “Why are you looking at me?! Am I that stingy? You think it’s all about you?” 

Rong Shuang finally nodded: “Alright, is Meng Han coming?”

Qin Tianyang: “He’ll be here later—he’s got something to do today, so he’ll be a little late.” Rong Shuang let out an “Oh.”

Although he was feeling a bit car sick, he really didn’t have the energy to walk over, so he hoisted his official robe and climbed into the carriage.

“Sigh.”

“Phew…”

“Ahh…”

Seeing him like this, Qin Tianyang pleaded, “I’m begging you, don’t die in my carriage.” 

Rong Shuang, oblivious to everything around him, said dreamily, “I won’t…”

“Because I have to go to the palace tonight.”

Rong Shuang: “But I think… dying in your carriage wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

Qin Tianyang: “?” 

“Are you crazy??”

“What did His Majesty do to you?”

Rong Shuang was silent for a long time.

“Calling a deer a horse—I accepted the bet and must accept the consequences. I sold myself for glory; I had no choice.”

Qin Tianyang and Ying Yin exchanged a glance; both their eyes betrayed a strange sense of dread. What on earth did His Majesty—or rather, their fourteenth older brother—do to Lord Rong?