Strongly Spoiled by the Villainous Tyrant After Climbing into the Dragon’s Bed - Chapter 15

The vast hall fell into a sudden silence.

Shi Rendong stared at Zhan Yueqing with deep suspicion.

Zhan Yueqing’s face remained calm, a faint smile playing on his lips, while internally, he was bickering with System 997—

“No way! Being truly blind makes me feel unsafe. What if someone tries to assassinate me?”

【Jun Yushu is here,】 997 replied. 【And so am I.】

Zhan Yueqing thought about it and realized it was true, so he agreed: “But I must have my sight restored when I’m writing from memory.”

“Are you truly going to blindfold yourself?” Shi Rendong suddenly asked him.

Zhan Yueqing stepped forward, assuming an air of humility: “Yes. I ask for the Master’s fulfillment of this request.”

This posture indeed pleased Shi Rendong.

The displeasure in Shi Rendong’s heart lessened slightly, and he beckoned, though he still looked down on the youth: “Seeking fame through deception—Tingyu, give him your hairband.”

He wanted to see if this boy was a fraud seeking reputation or a genuine, heaven-sent talent.

Bai Tingyu stepped forward, produced a new hairband, and handed it to Zhan Yueqing. “Please.”

The red hairband was about two inches wide. After covering his eyes, a long section of it still fluttered behind Zhan Yueqing’s head.

Zhan Yueqing was dressed in black today. His vital energy hadn’t quite recovered yet, and coupled with the cold weather, his face appeared exceptionally pale.

The red hairband covering his eyes made his face look even more morbidly white by contrast.

Yet, the aura he exuded was not weak like his appearance; he seemed more like a resting great cat.

He walked slowly toward the table, lifting his ungloved right hand. His scallion-white fingers reached under the black cloth, touching the strangely textured medicinal ingredients.

Though the herbs were dry, they were clearly of recent harvest.

These ingredients were of superior quality, emitting a faint, clear fragrance.

After a brief touch, Zhan Yueqing leaned down to sniff, and he immediately knew what they were.

Dried tangerine peel, Codonopsis, White Aconite, Poria, Astragalus…

Watching him, Jun Yushu’s heart hammered against his ribs, full of worry for Zhan Yueqing.

Shi Rendong sipped his tea slowly, watching Zhan Yueqing with a cold sneer in his heart, already convinced the boy was putting on a show.

Recognizing them after such a short touch? Impossible.

Even someone who had practiced medicine for over three years might not possess such skill.

The examiners in the hall clearly shared Shi Rendong’s thoughts, sighing softly.

However, Zhan Yueqing had already taken up his brush and begun to write.

“Wait! Is he starting to write already? He finished identifying them in just two incense sticks’ time? That’s impossible, right?” a candidate questioned.

Jun Yushu also had his doubts, but he still spoke up for Zhan Yueqing: “Why is it impossible?”

“Young Master Jun, you wouldn’t know since you haven’t studied it, but the skill to identify medicine upon contact requires at least a Level 4 ‘Apricot Forest’ rank—how old does your brother look? How could he possibly have that kind of skill?”

Jun Yushu was shocked: “Is it really that impressive?”

“Of course! Not to mention he’s blindfolded. Some people can’t even recognize a hundred types of medicine with their eyes wide open. And look, the examiners are constantly shuffling the positions of the medicine boxes.”

Jun Yushu looked closely and saw it was true.

To prevent cheating, an examiner stood up and silently used a stick to shift the medicine boxes under the black cloth, rearranging them again and again.

Zhan Yueqing finished one sheet and felt the herbs once more. Being blindfolded made it difficult to move, and he accidentally banged his knee against the table.

A sharp pain shot through his leg, causing his eyes to sting and water. The red hairband fluttered in the draft blowing through the hall.

His hair became messy, and as the hairband drifted behind him, the exposed lower half of his face, though pale, was so exquisite it seemed like a divine work of art.

997: 【That’s what you get for showing off.】

It continued bickering with Zhan Yueqing, failing to notice that the crowd had suddenly gone quiet.

“This Second Young Master Jun…”

After a long while, someone whispered, “He’s quite good-looking.”

“He is…”

“I didn’t expect that even with his eyes covered… he’d look this beautiful.”

…

Zhan Yueqing’s world was pitch black. He didn’t care to argue with the system, nor did he hear the voices in the crowd. He simply sat there focused, writing one sheet of Xuan paper after another.

When the papers were filled, he recorded which herbs were there during the first touch, and which were there after the positions were changed…

“Three incense sticks have passed.”

Shi Rendong spoke, rising with a cold sneer, prepared to inspect the answer sheets.

Light finally returned to Zhan Yueqing’s vision. He raised his hand to untie the hairband, revealing eyes that were rimmed with red.

Another gust of snowy wind blew in from outside the hall.

Jun Yushu: “…”

The crowd was dead silent.

Ji Honghu: “Is he crying because it was too hard?”

Ji Moyu: “He hit his knee. I watched him slam into the table. It made a loud ‘thud’ sound.”

Bai Tingyu: “Do you think I should take that hairband back and sell it to Prince An? I heard he likes beauties who are androgynous and loves smelling their clothes.”

The three spoke softly so no outsiders could hear. In the hall, the examiners began grading.

Zhan Yueqing rubbed his knee and walked back to Jun Yushu’s side.

“Brother… I take back what I said about not needing a doctor. Find someone to look at my knee…”

This body was way too weak!

Jun Yushu snapped out of his trance. “Huh? What? You want me to look at your knee?”

Zhan Yueqing: “?”

Forget it, he’d check it himself when he got back.

The injury was on his left leg, which had the poisonous patterns. It wasn’t wise to let outsiders see it.

Grading would take some time, and the next candidate began their exam.

Candidates began trickling out. Zhan Yueqing pulled Jun Yushu to a seat in the outer room and pulled an oil-paper bundle from his robes.

The fragrant scent of pastries pulled Jun Yushu’s thoughts back. He turned his head with a complicated expression—

Zhan Yueqing was eating pastries.

The pastry skin was a translucent, soft white, filled with red bean paste.

“Where did those come from?” Jun Yushu leaned in. “I want one too.”

Zhan Yueqing handed over the paper bundle. “The maid said they were from the Imperial Kitchen.”

Jun Yushu’s outstretched hand froze, and he muttered, “The Emperor hasn’t been like this in a long time.”

Zhan Yueqing looked up in surprise: “What?”

Was he about to trigger some ‘The Young Master finally smiled’ CEO-style plot line?

Jun Yushu sighed and patted Zhan Yueqing’s slightly messy hair. “Didn’t you ask me in the carriage if His Majesty had any concubines?”

Zhan Yueqing paused.

“He has none,” Jun Yushu said. “Ever since he took the throne, he’s become more and more terrifying. Women run when they see him, men cry, and even ghosts wouldn’t dare approach him.”

Zhan Yueqing swallowed the pastry, recalling Tan Huairan’s ‘man-eating’ appearance from last night. It matched Jun Yushu’s description quite well.

“Then what was he like before he took the throne?”

Had Tan been a transmigrator for a long time?

Jun Yushu thought for a moment. “Back when he was still the Crown Prince, we hunted together at the Yanbei Hunting Grounds. He even taught me archery; he was incredibly skilled. He could kill a wild boar with a single arrow from a great distance while riding a galloping horse—and I was only ten then, while he was only sixteen.”

Sixteen. High school?

Zhan Yueqing couldn’t help but think of the modern-day Tan Huai.

He and Tan Huai had met in elementary school. Middle school was a time of vague, budding feelings, and they had tasted the forbidden fruit on the day they turned eighteen after high school graduation.

But that madness had only lasted one summer.

Later, because of certain events, he entered the Tan family and was separated from Tan Huai.

It wasn’t until five years later, at the funeral of the elder Mr. Tan, that he saw Tan Huai again.

At that time, Tan Huai was twenty-three, wearing a black overcoat, his eyes cold and distant. He had grown out his light brown hair to a medium-short length, bearing no trace of his sixteen-year-old self.

The sixteen-year-old Tan Huai would be deeply moved by a single word from him.

If Zhan Yueqing mentioned wanting something in passing, Tan Huai would find it shortly after.

If he lost a bit of weight, Tan Huai would yell and fuss, asking if his parents were failing to feed him again.

But the twenty-three-year-old Tan Huai was no longer moved by him.

That day, amidst the pure white of the funeral, Zhan Yueqing had read the will with an expressionless face.

Some questioned why the bulk of the estate was left to an adopted son; others questioned the authenticity of the will, only to be suppressed by the elder Tan’s loyalists.

Only the heir spoke up with icy indifference—

“And what about you? Are you one of the inheritances too? Step-mother.”

Tan Huai’s voice, cold as frost and snow, echoed through the funeral hall, his expression unmoved by anyone.

Zhan Yueqing’s heart felt stifled as he saw the look in his eyes—a gaze that looked as if it would turn into a demon and devour him in the next second.

“There is no need to call me that. Your father and I never had any affection, nor did we have any real relationship,” Zhan Yueqing had replied, meeting Tan Huai’s gaze coldly, without a hint of fear.

Tan Huai looked at him and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“I know that because of my appearance and the fact that I stayed by the elder Mr. Tan’s side day and night, there are many rumors about me in the Tan family,” Zhan Yueqing said, his gaze sweeping over the Tan family heirs below. Some were cold, others greedy.

“The rumors say I was the elder Mr. Tan’s second wife, but that is a fabrication. Those so-called ‘second wives’ who died were simply people he needed to test new medicines for him every moment of every day because he was ill… The side effects were too strong, and those people didn’t survive. That is why there were so many ‘wives’.”

“I didn’t survive either. Because of the frequent testing of new drugs, I developed cancer.”

Zhan Yueqing had braced his hands against the podium, as if he wouldn’t be able to stand otherwise. He lowered his gaze, his face pale and his voice cold.

He didn’t look at Tan Huai’s reaction.

The summer after high school graduation was far too brief.

Time had passed, and Zhan Yueqing thought he had long forgotten what the sixteen-year-old Tan Huai looked like. But following Jun Yushu’s words, he could faintly trace the outline of that youth again.

A youth in fresh clothes on a galloping horse, proud and successful.

“…But from what I’ve seen of him these past two days,” Zhan Yueqing blinked, tilting his head toward Jun Yushu, “the difference from what you described is way too big. He’s six years older than you? So he’s twenty-six now? How has he lived these years? Did his parents love him? Your father is the Grand Preceptor; does the Grand Preceptor support him?”

Jun Yushu sensed something and smiled, saying, “It seems His Majesty hit you quite hard indeed. Do you want me to find a doctor for you? You really have forgotten many things.”

Zhan Yueqing paused and changed the subject: “No need—when will they finish grading? Didn’t you say you were taking me to Chunlan House tonight?”

He wanted so badly to know what Tan Huai had gone through to become like this, but he had forgotten to be on guard against Jun Yushu.

There were some things one shouldn’t ask.

Jun Yushu was choked for words.

He had clearly mentioned “Spring Flowers” (Chunhua) first, but Zhan Yueqing only remembered “Spring Orchid” (Chunlan).

As they spoke, they didn’t notice that in a remote corner of the courtyard, a gaze was fixed on Zhan Yueqing’s face. That gaze traveled back and forth, eventually settling on his gloved left hand.

…

At noon, as the snowy wind howled, the results were posted in the courtyard.

Ji Honghu stood by the board with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned the candidates, but he didn’t see the person the Head of the Medical Academy wanted. He asked, “Where is Jun Yueqing?”

“He seems to have gone out for lunch with his brother?”

Ji Honghu: “…”

He was hungry enough to leave while I was waiting?

He snorted and looked again. Confirming the person wasn’t there, he went back to the inner court to report.

“Why did Senior Brother Ji ask that?” a candidate asked, puzzled.

“The top of the list…” a candidate said with a trembling voice, “The one at the top is Jun Yueqing!”

“What?! He actually got it right while blindfolded? How many did he miss?”

The candidate looked again. The name at the top, Jun Yueqing, hadn’t missed a single one—

Behind his name, there was even a written judgment:

“The handwriting is too ugly, resembling ghost talismans. This candidate is requested to practice more. If you do not practice, patients may not be able to read your prescriptions in the future.”

“…”

At noon, in the Imperial Palace.

“Your Majesty, that person took first place!” Zhou Jiu reported with a small, happy grin. “Also, that person’s father wants to see him. Should we tell him? Let him go see his father?”

Tan Huairan was squeezing a bloody mass in his hand. A floor full of palace servants knelt below him.

The servants’ bodies trembled, yet they remained kneeling.

They were speaking in riddles. 001 was highly alert: 【Which ‘that person’ are they talking about?】

Tan Huairan showed no bias toward their words, nor did his expression change.

“Does Your Majesty have a headache?” Zhou Jiu tested. “Would you like some of Master Shi’s pain-relieving pills?”

The hall fell into a brief silence.

After a moment, Tan Huairan finally spoke coldly: “Has he returned to the palace?”

He had seemingly forgotten what he had said yesterday.

“No, he went to Chunlan House,” Zhou Jiu whispered.

Thud!

The bloody mass in his hand was crushed completely.

The object looked like a human heart.

“To. A. Brothel?”

The low, raspy voice sounded as if he were speaking through gritted teeth, dripping with malice.