2024-04-13 08:04
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<p> It's laughable that after a century of the Great Zhou Dynasty, it crumbled due to the decline of the royal heirs. Not only did a fool ascend the throne, but also a eunuch seized great power. </p> <p> Wu Jing found himself in the shoes of the last imperial son of the Great Zhou, a recently crowned emperor who was perceived as a fool. He watched as people took advantage of his ignorance, serving him a meager meal of vegetables and plain rice. </p> <p> Fists clenched, he grew angry. </p> <p> Outside the palace hall, palace maids gossiped: "That little emperor is quite handsome." "If only he weren't a fool." "The Ninth Thousand Years probably won't tolerate the restored normal emperor sitting in this position." </p> <p> Wu Jing felt deflated. He had to swallow his pride and continue pretending to be a fool. </p> <p> Until one day, as he passed by the imperial garden, he accidentally saw the unpredictable and ruthless Ninth Thousand Years, known for killing without blinking, wearing a crane-patterned court robe. The red sleeves draped gracefully on the ground. </p> <p> The Ninth Thousand Years squatted down, revealing a side profile with a smiling expression, extending a slender hand, feeding… a wild cat! </p> <p> This cat was one of the wild cats in the imperial garden. The next day, at the same spot, he saw the Ninth Thousand Years feeding a limping stray dog. </p> <p> The third encounter was in the imperial study. Wu Jing sat stiffly on the grand dragon throne, with a eunuch beneath his feet, a ten-year-old who accidentally spilled tea on the Ninth Thousand Years' robe, now frantically bowing. </p> <p> Blood streamed down his face. </p> <p> After a moment, someone came to take the little eunuch away, but the man sitting in the chief minister's chair suddenly spoke in a gentle tone, "Forget it, he's just a child." </p> <p> Wu Jing shifted his black eyes. Ning Qinghong turned his gaze, "Your Majesty, please let me review your lessons during this time." </p> <p> "Gurgle—" Wu Jing awkwardly looked at his stomach, a sudden insight striking him. The semi-grown teenager tilted up a pretty little face, his black eyes innocent, "Brother, I'm hungry." </p> <p> Ning Qinghong narrowed his eyes slightly, picked up a pastry, "Come here." He fed the little emperor like he was feeding a kitten, coaxing him to finish. </p> <p> Rumors spread that the Ninth Thousand Years suffered from a mental illness. Sometimes smiling, sometimes cruel and tyrannical. </p> <p> Wu Jing, who regretted hugging this thigh too late, hid in the wardrobe of the sleeping palace, hearing calls from outside. </p> <p> Ning Qinghong, with a cold face, spoke in an oddly soft tone, "Wu Wu, aren't you hungry?" </p>
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