His Majesty Has an Ailment - Chapter 2

Chapter 2
Back to the palace.

My reward: a thirty-thousand-word self-criticism.

It took me three days and three nights to write.

And that was after I had laid out the evidence and explained, with perfect logic, that I had risked my own body for the sake of the nation’s economic security.

Heaven sees all! Heaven sees all!

I, a loyal pillar of the state who would give my all until my dying breath, swallowed my tears and resentment and furiously wielded my brush.

“Minister Fang seems somewhat dissatisfied.”

The damned emperor was reviewing memorials, yet still turned his damned head toward me with a sinister air.

For however many days I spent making up-no, reflecting, he kept me locked in the Imperial Study for just as many days.

He said he couldn’t give me any chance to sneak around behind his back. Supervision. I had to be supervised!

By him personally.

…Only a ghost would believe him!

When I finished the first draft, he snatched it over, took one look, and was displeased.

He believed my reflection was insufficient.

On the second draft, he looked again and was still displeased.

He felt there was something wrong with my attitude.

By the third draft, I was so desperate that I swore to the heavens in my self-criticism: from this day forth, I would keep myself clean, avoid women, give up my lustful ways, and turn over a new leaf!

Only then was he finally satisfied.

Me: “…” Heh.

So that was it.

After discovering in the brothel that he couldn’t perform, his masculine dignity had been wounded, so he was using this as an excuse to vent his anger on me?

But after all, I was a talent who had endured ten years of scholarly torment and fought through thousands upon thousands to reach the palace examination.

“Absolutely not.”

Maintaining a smile so resentful it weighed heavier than a ghost, I set down my brush, blew on the ink, and raised the paper level with my brows. “Your Majesty, please have a look.”

“You’re finished…” He casually scooped up the dozen-jin stack of xuan paper.

His tone sounded rather regretful.

Me: ?

Though my hand hurt, my shoulder hurt, my waist hurt, and my head hurt, none of that stopped me from springing up like a carp and promptly taking my leave.

I practically rolled and crawled out of the Imperial Study.

I was terrified that if I was one step too slow, this living King of Hell would tack on another ten thousand words.

At the door, I ran into the Grand Tutor.

When he saw my legs trembling and my body half-paralyzed, his eyes widened like bronze bells.

I thought to myself, Isn’t this the emperor’s teacher? So I excitedly struggled over to greet him.

I planned to lodge a complaint in a roundabout way and have him remind Zu Ling that if he was ill, he should seek treatment as soon as possible, and that he absolutely must not bring personal emotions into work and torment his subordinates for no reason!

In recent years, the court had undergone a major reshuffle. Many old ministers had stepped down, and through the imperial examinations, many young officials-including me-had been newly appointed.

Among all the civil and military officials at court now, this unremarkable-looking old man, who had in fact assisted three generations of emperors, had the highest seniority and was the most respected.

Before I could even open my mouth-

“Absurd! Truly absurd!” Grand Tutor Meng sprayed spit through his leaky teeth, his finger trembling violently as he pointed at me.

I was completely baffled.

Before I could react, he went splat and fainted.

Unconscious.

Was… was this a scam?!

Scared out of my wits, I saw His Majesty step out through the door. With a voice that could swallow mountains and rivers, I raised my arm and cried out:

“I didn’t do it!”

Zu Ling: “…”