Strongly Spoiled by the Villainous Tyrant After Climbing into the Dragon’s Bed - Chapter 9

The capital of the Ning Empire was named Xuanning. Its streets were prosperous; doors were not bolted at night, and lost items remained untouched on the road.

A sudden crack of thunder echoed across the sky, and heavy rain began to pour.

With the mixture of rain and snow, the capital grew increasingly cold. The common folk tightly shut their doors and windows once more, huddling by charcoal braziers for warmth.

Suddenly, the sound of horses neighing erupted from the streets, as if someone were riding at a frantic gallop.

A troop of horses and carriages was reflected in the puddles accumulating on the ground.

The procession came to a halt outside the Zhan Manor, and a cold, sinister voice—resembling a venomous snake—rang out:

“The Office of the Imperial Guards is handling a case. Idle personnel, stand clear.”

The Office of the Imperial Guards reported directly to the current Emperor. Legend had it that these men were raised by His Majesty since his youth; every one of them was peerlessly loyal and capable of taking on a hundred foes alone. In body and mind, even soldiers in the military felt inferior upon seeing them.

The gate slaves stood dazed at the sight, their faces turning deathly pale as they hurried inside to report.

Leading the Office of the Imperial Guards was a man with a wicked air about his eyes.

He dismounted unhurriedly and looked up at the flourishing estate.

For a minor official of the seventh rank, his residence was comparable to that of a Commandery Prince.

“Oh,” a powerful male voice suddenly rang out, “Director Mu actually arrived one step ahead of me?”

The men of the Imperial Guards turned their eyes.

A carriage approached from the other end of the street. A tall, thin middle-aged man hopped down from the vehicle and approached the Imperial Guards.

Mu Zhou gave a dry chuckle. “Lord Jun, why have you come as well?”

Jun Song had a square face; he was a Grand Preceptor of two dynasties and was fifty years old this year. He had a knife scar over his left eye and a steel stud hanging from his left ear, giving him a somewhat peculiar appearance.

“Me? I’m here to pick up my son,” Jun Song said triumphantly.

Mu Zhou glanced at him. “Since when did you have another son?”

He remembered that Jun Song had only one son.

Jun Song: “At noon today. Bestowed by His Majesty. He was twenty years old the moment he was born—truly miraculous! My boy Quan-er even threw a fit for fifteen minutes when he saw the Imperial Decree.”

Mu Zhou narrowed his eyes and let out a cold laugh, likely guessing who Jun Song’s “new son” was. He said, “A mole planted for three years, used up for the sake of a male favorite. Truly childish.”

Mu Zhou was thirty-eight this year, while Tan Huairan was twenty-six. Although there were only a few years between them, in his eyes, Tan Huairan was little more than a child.

Hearing this, Jun Song let out a “hey,” getting deep into his role. Dissatisfied, he said, “That is my son, not a male favorite. Don’t let His Majesty hear those words—besides, the Imperial Examinations are next year. How long did you want him to keep that line buried? Our Emperor isn’t exactly one for digging holes.”

The speech between the two was extremely vague; no one but themselves could understand it.

Mu Zhou sneered.

They had followed Tan Huairan since his time as Crown Prince and were considered his subordinates. However, the Head of the Imperial Academy of Medicine was well advanced in years, possessed transcendent medical skills, and was not afraid of death; he certainly wouldn’t take in just any trash.

That Zhan Second—he had seen him twice before at Prince An’s place. He didn’t look like someone who could pass the Head’s assessment.

Wanting to enter the Imperial Academy of Medicine? Without real talent, it would be faster to just keep dreaming.

That wasn’t a place where crying in front of His Majesty would make the Head obediently teach him.

…

Inside the Flower Pavilion.

Zhan Yueqing looked toward Lady Xu. “You failed to discipline your own son, yet you have the face to ask me what I did to him?”

In his memories, if not for the poisonous blood, the young Zhan Yueqing would have long ago met a tragic end at the hands of Zhan De.

Beauty alone is very fragile.

If one is a kind-hearted beauty without the means to protect oneself, one is even more fragile.

Unfortunately, he was not kind.

Zhan Yueqing let out a cold laugh and stepped on Zhan De’s hand again, grinding down relentlessly—

Zhan De was actually trampled awake, letting out a pained groan. “Let… let go…”

“Madam!!”

The door was suddenly pushed open as a servant rushed in, his face grief-stricken. “Madam—the Office of the Imperial Guards… Ah!”

He was kicked aside.

“Your manor’s people are far too slow at delivering messages. One might think you’ve hired a group of tortoise spirits as servants.”

A low, raspy, snake-like voice rang out. This voice sounded somewhat aged, its timbre sitting somewhere between a middle-aged man and a youth, though leaning toward the former.

Zhan Yueqing paused and turned his gaze—

He locked eyes with a pair of dark gray pupils.

The owner of those dark gray eyes wore a black robe embroidered with purple snake patterns and a tall white hat. At his waist hung a badge engraved with two large characters: Mu Zhou.

Mu Zhou froze.

Inside the Flower Pavilion, the curtains fluttered. He saw a dark green shadow. As the white gauze lifted, the true face of the shadow was revealed.

It was the Zhan Yueqing he had seen twice before.

His gaze lingered on Zhan Yueqing for a moment, and then he saw the person being stepped on beneath his feet.

The way Zhan Yueqing looked while treading on someone… it seemed a bit different from when he saw him at the temple.

Such a thought surfaced in Mu Zhou’s mind without warning.

That time at Shanesn Temple when he saw Prince An, this child was pale-faced and timidly hiding behind Prince An, not even daring to lift his head.

After all, the Office of the Imperial Guards was infamous for its cruelty; no one did not fear them.

At that time, Mu Zhou had swept a cold glance over him, inwardly mocking how weak this person was for a man.

He hadn’t even dared to look at him.

How did he suddenly have the courage to look him in the eye now?

“The Office of the Imperial Guards? …Lord Mu?” Zhan Yan’s exquisitely beautiful face turned deathly pale in an instant. “Why have you come?”

Mu Zhou was not young. Because he yearned to wear black clothes and a tall white hat all year round—resembling the “Black and White Impermanence” of folklore—and mostly conducted business for the Emperor at night, the commoners had given him the nickname “Ghost Uncle.”

Wherever he passed, dead souls were everywhere, as if vengeful spirits were on the march.

The people of the capital feared him greatly.

Zhan Yan was no exception.

—What is the Office of the Imperial Guards?

Just as this question popped into Zhan Yueqing’s mind, the system provided a summary: essentially, this office was the most loyal group of subordinates under the Tyrant. All those heartless and immoral deeds went through their hands, and some were even committed directly by them.

And the Director of the Imperial Guards had the nickname “Ghost Uncle” among the people.

Zhan Yueqing frowned, thinking of the things mentioned in the Imperial Decree, and paused.

The Tyrant’s secret guard had said that His Majesty wanted him to enter the manor one step ahead and do whatever he wished, and that someone would clean up after him. Did this “cleaner” refer to this “Ghost Uncle”?

“Your uncle here…” Mu Zhou suddenly spoke. He narrowed his eyes, his voice light yet still clearly reaching everyone’s ears as if he truly were a ghost.

“Is naturally here to raid and execute your household.”

—BOOM!

Another crack of thunder sounded outside the pavilion. This thunder seemed to strike Zhan Yan and Lady Xu senseless; for a moment, they were dazed, feeling more and more like this was a nightmare.

What raid?

Zhan De’s face showed an expression of terror.

After the matter of the poisoning was exposed that day, he had been thrown into the celestial prison, but he wasn’t punished; he was merely detained.

Not long after, he was released—Zhan Jing told him that the Emperor wanted his useless older brother, a life for a life, and thus he was free.

He thought he was truly free, but what was happening now?

“Alright, young master, lift your foot.”

Mu Zhou slowly walked to Zhan Yueqing’s side, his tone playful. “If you step him to death, how is this Director supposed to interrogate him to find out who is behind the scenes?”

Zhan Yueqing was startled.

Zhan De suddenly grabbed his foot like a drowning man clutching a straw, shouting miserably, “Brother, Brother, save me! The Office of the Imperial Guards is a place that eats people without spitting out the bones—I’m the only child of the Zhan family… Save me, Brother… or else, or else I’ll tell him about your blood…!”

His voice was cut off by Zhan Yueqing’s stomp.

Zhan Yueqing finished the action nonchalantly, then raised his eyes to meet Mu Zhou’s gaze, his lips moving as if he wanted to plead for mercy. However, Mu Zhou interrupted his movement first, saying coldly—

“Dare to plead for mercy, and you shall die right along with them.”

A silver flash flickered before Zhan Yueqing’s eyes as Mu Zhou drew the saber from his waist and stabbed it right next to Zhan De’s hand.

By just a fraction, Zhan De’s palm would have been chopped off.

Zhan Yueqing: “…” Uncle, you’re so fierce!

He blinked and acted obediently. “Uncle, I didn’t intend to plead for mercy. I wanted to ask, since you are raiding and executing my household, do I, the Second Young Master, have to die too?”

What on earth was the Tyrant up to?

His tone was incredibly soft and obedient, and his expression was relaxed; he truly looked like a young and noble young master.

Mu Zhou looked at him and sneered. “Today in the imperial court, Zhan Jing publicly stated that the Zhan family has never had a Second Young Master. How can a non-existent young master die?”

Zhan Yueqing was stunned, suddenly remembering something, and his expression gradually became complicated.

He could be almost certain of Tan Huairan’s identity now.

Mu Zhou, unaware of his inner thoughts, narrowed his eyes slightly.

Is he heartbroken?

It made sense; what child wouldn’t be heartbroken after being abandoned by their father?

Thinking of this, Mu Zhou felt a touch of emotion and was just about to speak—

“Then do the Eldest Miss Zhan and Fourth Miss Zhan have to die too?” Zhan Yueqing suddenly asked calmly.

Mu Zhou, who was just about to offer comfort: “…”

Likely because he had just wasted a rare bit of his own sympathy, when Mu Zhou spoke again, his tone was several degrees colder—

“Shut up.”

Zhan Yueqing tilted his head slightly, as if a “?” had popped up above his head.

Were all of the Tyrant’s subordinates this moody?

“Impossible!!” Lady Xu suddenly shrieked. In a short amount of time, her face had become as pale as golden paper and her hair was disheveled; she no longer looked like the noble and elegant woman from before, but rather a madwoman.

“You are lying to me,” she glared at Mu Zhou, her eyes as bloodshot as a rabbit’s. “Lord Mu, may I ask what wrong we have committed? On what grounds are we to be executed as a whole family?”

Zhan Yueqing turned his gaze toward her, just as he was about to speak—

“Kid,” Mu Zhou suddenly reached out his hand toward him. “Where is the Imperial Decree? Show it to your stepmother.”

Zhan Yueqing pulled out the Imperial Decree and tossed it carelessly to Lady Xu’s feet, a smile like that of a seductive ghost appearing on his face. “The Emperor’s personal seal is on it. Open it and see for yourself.”

The room suddenly fell into a dead silence.

Everyone looked at Zhan Yueqing with expressions that were either complicated, schadenfreude, or infuriated…

“?”

Zhan Yueqing didn’t quite understand why they were all looking at him, so he turned his eyes to ask Mu Zhou—

Mu Zhou’s face had turned green. “Seeing the Imperial Decree is like seeing the Emperor himself. You throw it out so casually—where do you place the Son of Heaven? Where do you place the dignity of the Imperial Family?”

That expression of his made it look like he was throwing out some piece of trash.

Even as calm as Mu Zhou was, seeing this, he couldn’t help but curse in his heart.

It was one thing to be arrogant due to favor, but you should at least put on a show on the surface!

Zhan Yueqing’s act of throwing it was merely an unintentional move; for a moment, he really hadn’t considered that point. He cursed feudal society for the nth time in his heart, but on the surface, he remained quite indifferent. “So what?”

“…” Mu Zhou, who hated this kind of “arrogance due to favor” more than anything in his life, let out a cold laugh and stopped talking.

He walked toward Lady Xu, intending to pick up the decree to read it aloud, but Lady Xu had already scrambled to pick it up in a panic and spread it open.

The red ink of the Imperial Seal came into view, piercingly bright.

Lady Xu’s body trembled; she was too terrified to speak and slumped to the ground, unable to pull herself up again.

Zhan Yan looked at the characters on it and turned to look at her younger brother in disbelief.