Due to the cold, Jiang Wu’s breathing was much heavier than before.
Yin Wuzhi had not been assigned a room and could only stay in the Taiji Hall.
He declined Qi Hanmiao’s kind offer, rubbed some medicinal oil on his shoulder injury himself, and moved his arm a bit. Though it hurt, it hadn’t affected his bones and didn’t hinder its use.
After rewrapping himself in his pink and white robes, Yin Wuzhi came to the bedside and pulled open the bed curtain to make sure Jiang Wu was breathing through his mouth properly.
It wasn’t that Yin Wuzhi was making a big deal out of it; he found himself unable to understand Jiang Wu. Almost all of Jiang Wu’s behaviors couldn’t be considered normal… No, he didn’t even seem human.
He couldn’t tell what kind of being he was.
But before ascending the throne… he didn’t seem like this.
Yin Wuzhi remembered that during the fierce competition among the princes for the throne, Jiang Wu managed to become emperor because he never boasted of his achievements, was kind and generous, and was deeply loved by the people. Plus, his maternal family held no power, and he had not participated in the power struggle for succession. In other words, he had not joined the fratricidal infighting.
He had a good relationship with every prince, especially with the Crown Prince who had been poisoned back then—the son of Empress Dowager Wen’s elder sister, and Yin Wuzhi’s other aunt.
He was the purest, most intelligent, and also the most cherished by the late emperor.
Later, in the power struggle for the throne, the brothers either died or were left crippled, and with the strong support of the veteran ministers, Jiang Wu naturally became the one to sit on the dragon throne.
One could say that, like his mother, he was incredibly lucky, to the point that others envied him.
However, being able to gain the support of the old ministers indicated that he possessed qualities persuasive enough to earn their backing. In other words, at the very least, he had to be diligent and hardworking.
… Was all that seriousness during his time as a prince just so he could be a lazy ruler once he ascended the throne?
Yin Wuzhi found it difficult to comprehend.
But history is not short of emperors who became cold and indifferent after taking the throne, so he didn’t dwell too much on it.
After changing his bandages, Yin Wuzhi stood before a bronze mirror to treat the wounds on his face.
His lip was merely scraped, and the pain on his face had slightly subsided, but the various unfair treatments he had endured since entering the palace caused his expression to darken.
After finishing, Qi Hanmiao brought a bowl of medicine for the cold. Yin Wuzhi stood nearby as Qi Hanmiao softly called for the emperor.
Naturally, it was impossible to wake him up.
“Your Highness,” Qi Hanmiao turned around for help, “Tomorrow, King Dingnan and others are coming to discuss matters. If His Majesty is gravely ill, what should we do?”
What should be done?
Jiang Wu was already lazy enough, and if he fell seriously ill, he’d have even more reason to do nothing. Yin Wuzhi could already foresee that when everyone arrived, they’d just be left waiting in the imperial study.
This incapable emperor had no sense of empathy.
Yin Wuzhi stepped forward and said to Qi Hanmiao, “If you want my help in the future, don’t bring up my father.”
Qi Hanmiao bowed his head, “This servant apologizes, Your Highness.”
Yin Wuzhi shook Jiang Wu but couldn’t wake him, so he had no choice but to support him against his chest. Lifting Jiang Wu’s chin with his fingers, he said, “Just feed him directly.”
Qi Hanmiao was a bit nervous: “Will it choke him?”
“If it does, he’ll wake up and drink it himself.”
“…” Makes sense.
Qi Hanmiao held the bowl, blowing on it several times before carefully feeding it into Jiang Wu’s slightly pried-open mouth.
Jiang Wu swallowed unconsciously.
Qi Hanmiao gave him another spoonful. This time, Jiang Wu swallowed slowly.
The third spoonful.
Jiang Wu opened his eyes.
Qi Hanmiao smiled ingratiatingly: “Your Majesty, it’s medicine for the cold. Didn’t you feel uncomfortable? Drink it and you’ll feel better.”
Jiang Wu swallowed what was in his mouth, then turned his head, refusing the next spoonful. “Bitter.”
It was really bitter.
Bitter and strange.
His tongue even went numb.
Qi Hanmiao paused for a moment, then smiled. He took a candied fruit from the tray and said, “Your Majesty, suck on this, it will help a lot.”
Jiang Wu took it into his mouth, and just as his taste buds started to recover a bit, Qi Hanmiao came to feed him the medicine again.
This time, Jiang Wu refused to even let his lips touch the spoon, burying his face stubbornly as he mumbled, “No.”
A cold voice came from above: “Are you a child?”
Jiang Wu belatedly realized he was leaning against someone. He looked up and said, “Bitter.”
“Good medicine is bitter.”
“No.”
Yin Wuzhi, who hadn’t slept the entire night before and was now enduring this in the dead of night, couldn’t help but feel a bit impatient. He reined in his irritation and said in a low voice, “If you drink it all in one go, it won’t be as bitter.”
“You’re lying.”
Yin Wuzhi stared at his blank eyes, his annoyance rising as his temple throbbed. He reached out again to pinch Jiang Wu’s cheeks, forcibly turning his head toward Qi Hanmiao. “Feed him.”
Jiang Wu: “…”
Qi Hanmiao, trembling, took the candied fruit out of Jiang Wu’s mouth and then fed the bitter medicine into his forcibly opened mouth. Jiang Wu tried to resist, but realized that struggling required too much effort, and Yin Wuzhi’s arms, which held him in place, felt as unyielding as iron.
Not all struggles are worthwhile.
The pessimist gave up resisting.
Actually, the bitterness wasn’t that unbearable.
Yin Wuzhi was indeed preventing him from escaping, but worried about hurting him and getting punished, he didn’t use much force.
In Yin Wuzhi’s eyes, after his mouth was forced open, Jiang Wu offered no resistance at all, obediently accepting everything.
…So well-behaved?
He let go of Jiang Wu’s face.
Jiang Wu closed his mouth and refused to open it again.
Qi Hanmiao pleaded, “Just a little more, Your Majesty, please open your mouth.”
The pessimist wasn’t going to waste energy opening his mouth for such a thing.
Yin Wuzhi: “…”
You’re begging for another pinch.
Once again, he reached out and pried Jiang Wu’s mouth open, allowing Qi Hanmiao to feed him the rest of the medicine and pop another candied fruit into his mouth before finally letting go.
Jiang Wu was laid back down on the bed.
Qi Hanmiao wiped the sweat from his forehead, and Yin Wuzhi exhaled slightly.
Before the faint-hearted emperor could fall asleep, “Your Majesty, where should this minister sleep?”
Without Jiang Wu’s orders, Qi Hanmiao didn’t dare arrange his accommodations.
Jiang Wu silently looked at him, the candied fruit still in his mouth.
His pale face bore two bright red marks from being pinched, making him look a bit ridiculous.
Yin Wuzhi met his gaze, and the impatience he had felt earlier gradually faded.
He seemed to have figured out this emperor’s temperament.
The bigger the world, the more he chose not to act. Pain didn’t matter, nor did joy; no matter what happened, just lie down, accept it, and it’d all be fine.
Yin Wuzhi spoke again, “Where should this minister sleep?”
Jiang Wu opened his mouth, and Yin Wuzhi took the candied fruit from him, tossed it into a spittoon, and placed another one in his mouth. “Last night I sat in a chair all night. Will I sit there again tonight?”
Jiang Wu had actually been planning just that.
But he’d summoned so many old ministers not just to deal with documents, but also to teach Yin Wuzhi a thing or two. After all, he couldn’t make too many enemies himself—what if one day someone killed him?
But if Yin Wuzhi didn’t get a good night’s sleep, he might lose motivation.
After a moment’s thought, he extended a finger toward the small couch beside his bed.
That was where the servants who attended to him usually slept.
Yin Wuzhi said, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
He got out of bed and laid down on the small couch. Qi Hanmiao brought him an extra blanket to prevent him from catching a cold, and since the couch was short, thoughtfully placed a stool for him to rest his feet on.
Yin Wuzhi thanked him, and Qi Hanmiao bowed, saying, “I’ll leave His Majesty to the Shizi. The servants will be just outside; summon us if you need anything.”
Yin Wuzhi responded with a nod and asked, “Did His Majesty always eat candied fruits after taking medicine?”
Qi Hanmiao replied, “Yes.”
He left the hall, closing the door behind him.
Inside the sleeping quarters, Yin Wuzhi heard Jiang Wu’s voice again: “Bitter.”
He got up and replaced the candied fruit in Jiang Wu’s mouth, saying, “This one can be swallowed; there’s no pit inside.”
“Big.”
“You can chew it.”
“Hard.”
…That’s just firm. It’s dried fruit after all.
Yin Wuzhi, too tired to argue, laid back down. Just as he was about to drift off, he heard, “Bitter.”
He got up again, pinched the candied fruit out of the emperor’s mouth, and was about to replace it when he noticed Jiang Wu’s eyes and mouth were both tightly shut.
Looks like it’s not bitter anymore.
It wasn’t that it wasn’t bitter—if he licked his lips, it would still taste quite bitter, but it was now within tolerable limits. The pessimist couldn’t be bothered to make a fuss.
…After all, the pessimist could just avoid licking his lips.
The hall finally quieted down, and both men fell asleep.
The next morning, Yin Wuzhi rose early, tidied himself up, and had a neat breakfast.
When the officials like King Dingnan arrived, he went with Qi Hanmiao to meet them. Qi Hanmiao smiled and led the way, saying, “His Majesty invites you all to wait in the Imperial Study.”
Yin Wuzhi, unwilling to help the emperor dress again, followed them to the Imperial Study.
The sun was shining brightly that day, and as the doors opened, light streamed in, revealing fine particles of dust in the air.
The senior officials entered the study together, then came to a sudden halt.
As the youngest, Yin Wuzhi followed behind them. Due to the bright light outside, the Imperial Study, with its closed windows, appeared dim, preventing him from immediately seeing what the others had noticed.
“…?” Prime Minister Chen asked, “Where is His Majesty?”
“His Majesty will be here shortly,” Qi Hanmiao replied. “Please, take a seat. If you’re bored, you can start reviewing the memorials.”
Yin Wuzhi: “?”
He understood now.
The elders all sat down, and only then did Yin Wuzhi see the entire scene in the Imperial Study.
Stacks of memorials were everywhere—on the desk, in front of the desk, and next to the vase with scrolls. These memorials were piled up to half a person’s height, row after row, taking up almost half of the Imperial Study. It was unclear where they had all come from or when they had been delivered.
Qiu Shangshu couldn’t sit still anymore. He stepped forward and asked, “When did these arrive?”
Qi Hanmiao smiled awkwardly, “Just about a month and a half ago. It’s the end of the season, and these are reports from various regions.”
“What has His Majesty been doing for the past month and a half?” Grand Preceptor Wen asked, furrowing his graying brows in concern. “Apart from the assassination attempt, has anything else happened?”
“…There was also an incident of near-drowning,” Qi Hanmiao explained. “He fainted while bathing.”
“And didn’t His Majesty miss several court sessions after that? There was also an attempt to poison him…” Actually, His Majesty had choked on rice. Qi Hanmiao sighed and continued, “His Majesty has been unwell lately. Just yesterday, he caught a cold.”
Yin Wuzhi glanced at him. Keep spinning that tale.
King Dingnan, deep in thought, wanted to suggest that maybe something unclean was afoot, but since this was the imperial palace, he didn’t dare to speak rashly. Instead, he asked, “His Majesty didn’t summon us here just to deal with these, did he?”
Qiu Shangshu had already started flipping through the memorials. “These are already sorted. They just need a stamp of approval. How could His Majesty not even have time for that?”
The others began to shift uncomfortably in their seats.
Qiu Shangshu said, “Wangye, come take a look. This seems to be a war report from the south.”
King Dingnan stepped forward to join him.
Soon, Qiu Shangshu called out again, “Prime Minister, have a look at this. Isn’t it from the Xinnan Academy?”
Prime Minister Chen sighed and joined them.
After a while, Qiu Shangshu remarked, “Grand Preceptor, this one seems to be from Qizhou. Your grandson’s efforts have paid off.”
The elderly Grand Preceptor slowly made his way over.
Yin Wuzhi watched these senior officials who couldn’t seem to stay idle.
“Yin Shu,” someone suddenly called his name. It was Grand Preceptor Wen, his voice old and mellow, “Come over here and stamp these memorials. Why is the Ministry of Personnel passing such trivial matters to the emperor? No wonder His Majesty is always calling in sick.”
…Are you a spy too?
Can’t wait until next week to see more? Want to show your support? Come to my Patreon where you can get up to 5 more chapters of The Daily Life of a Depressed Salted Fish right away ! Or go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! :)
