The Imperial Tutor's Instructions - Chapter 1

A gentle breeze lightly brushed against the window lattice, causing the golden bells hanging beneath the eaves to chime clearly in response. Only a short while ago, the golden glazed tiles had been glistening brilliantly beneath the sun, yet in the blink of an eye, the sky had darkened, and a continuous pitter-patter of raindrops began striking the roof.

The wooden window was left open a crack. Outside, the tender willow branches swaying in the wind appeared completely washed clean and new. Shen Heng sat upon the daybed, his gaze focused intently upon the memorial held within his hands. His tall figure remained impeccably poised and upright. Not far away, a soft and elegant wisp of top-grade jianan agarwood, an incense reserved exclusively for the emperor’s use and worth thousands in gold per ounce, rose slowly from a three-legged lotus censer. Even while seated inside the sovereign’s inner bedchamber, he did not display the slightest hint of unease, looking exactly as though he had long since grown accustomed to it.

The damp mist outside swirled and rose continuously, filtering through the window and filling the air with the crisp fragrance of plants.

The palace servants attending the outer chamber had all been dismissed. The inner hall was quiet and solemn, filled unique with the sound of rain dripping from the eaves and the occasional rustle of turning pages. Gradually, the downpour intensified as a sudden gale arose. The individual resting across Shen Heng’s lap shifted his head slightly, appearing as though his peaceful slumber had been disrupted by the clamor of the rain.

His white robes were light, airy, and as ethereal as mist. Layer upon layer, the fabric resembled a blooming ten-petaled lotus flower, its gold-threaded patterns catching the light like shifting, molten gold as the illumination altered its depth across the layout. A ring of ink-black trim along the edges made his fair skin appear remarkably translucent. A wide, loosely embroidered sleeve was pinned beneath Song Nanqing’s cheek, and his unfastened dark hair cascaded down like an absolute waterfall, half-concealing his visage as it spread across Shen Heng’s lap. The tips of his hair strands drifted loosely over the edge of the daybed, partially masking a countenance flushed with an absolute crimson hue and damp with tears.

Outside the window, the weeping begonias hung their heads beneath the weight of the raindrops. Inside the fragrance-filled hall, the young emperor lay on his side across Shen Heng’s lap with his hair loose, unceremoniously treating the imperial tutor, who was rumored across the wider court to possess unparalleled power and an uncompromisingly stern character, as an absolute natural pillow. Concealed beneath the contours of his magnificent robes, his physical frame shivered instinctively, his lips releasing a few fragmented, blurred murmurs. The sounds were filled with a restless, freezing torment, appearing thoroughly drenched by the spring rain.

“Mmh… ah…” The young boy’s clear voice carried an unmistakable trace of an alluring, intimate cadence. Though his soft voice was pressed exceptionally low, it acted like a small hook, dragging an unrestrained ripple across a person’s heart. Shen Heng’s dark eyes deepened a fraction. Depositing the memorial onto the table, he used his long, jade-like fingers to gently part a stray lock of hair, exposing the face hidden beneath the dark strands. The boy’s slumber looked exceptionally unaligned and restless, holding a distinct trace of an agonizing struggle.

His pristine, porcelain-white face was unique the size of a single palm. Even viewed from a mere side angle, his physical profile personified an absolute, breathtakingly magnificent and peerless elegance. His long, dense eyelashes brushed past Shen Heng’s palm as they blinked, generating a sharp, soul-shaking wave of ticklish numbness. The outer corners of his eyes tilted upward slightly, closely mirroring a rare, exotic breed of cat. Perhaps owing to the deep surge of internal passion, his entire person exuded a highly concentrated, rich aura of absolute allure, looking as bright and dazzling as a rose-tinted cloud reflecting across a clear pond.

A sudden rumble of thunder shook the ground violently.

The frequency of his shivering accelerated continuously. His crimson lips parted slightly to release an unconscious trail of shallow pants and low moans, his beautiful brows knitted in a minor knot. His snow-white neck tilted slightly downward as a highly visible crimson flush thoroughly blanketed his fair cheeks. Shen Heng sat perfectly upright, his posture projecting an absolute aura of detached calmness, closely matching the white crane embroidered across his pure black outer robe. Unique his head was tilted downward to inspect Song Nanqing’s features, his gaze examining and appreciating the boy’s layout, shifting his dark eyes from his lightly bitten lips down to his tightly closed eyelids, before ultimately focusing over the continuous shivering running through the hem of his robes.

The young emperor’s entire body began to shiver violently, his mouth releasing a series of fragmented murmurs that sounded half-tormented and half-pleasurable. His slender neck arched backward as his flushed cheeks rubbed restlessly against the man’s lap, his dark hair cascading down to forge a highly magnificent scene. His physical frame twitched in a sharp sequence as if he prepared to forcefully spring upward. Just as his head was tossing unsteadily as though drowning deep within an absolute nightmare, a large hand commandingly captured his smooth, slender knee to guide his legs apart toward the side panel. Trapped deep within his slumber, the young emperor let out a continuous stream of hot tears, his weak fingers clawing uselessly against the fabric of the man’s sleeve.

“Your Majesty, it is time to wake.”

The poised, upright imperial tutor delivered his verbal syllables with absolute composure. His deep voice sounded exceptionally cold and detached as it filtered past his ear cavity, appearing thoroughly distinct and aloof amidst the young emperor’s whimpering sounds.

His warm fingers extended forward to brush away the hot tears clinging to the outer corners of Song Nanqing’s eyes, neatly tucking the loose hair strands back past his temples along the path. The outdoor downpour left the weather parameters exceptionally freezing and damp, yet the skin covering the boy’s face felt as warm as a piece of fine jade under his palm. Unique managing a brief touch of his fingertips felt exactly as if his hand prepared to sink deep straight into a pool of warm, fragrant flesh.

“唔…” Trapped deep within his slumber, the resident’s long eyelashes shivered unsteadily before his clear eyes pulled open. The outer corners of his eyes were stained with a deep crimson flush, lifting a pair of thoroughly damp, unaligned eyes to lock his gaze straight onto Shen Heng’s features. He picked up on a severe surge of scorching heat roaring throughout his entire body. The outdoor downpour left the atmosphere trapping the room completely rigid, his skin feeling exceptionally slick and damp, filled with an uncomfortable wave of sticky dryness, his brain feeling exactly as if it were wrapped within a thick canopy of heavy mist.

He lifted his face to inspect the window layout, using his arms to support his weight as he straightened his spine to rise off Shen Heng’s lap. Extending a single hand to prop up his aching head, his head tossed unsteadily as he asked, “Why exactly is the Master residing at this location?”

The white silk outer robe casually slid off the contour of his shoulder panel, cascading down to rest over the crook of his arm. Song Nanqing reversed his hand to neatly drape the fabric back over his frame. His waistline appeared exceptionally slender, preserving a highly unique curve reserved exclusively for adolescent youth. A sequence of blurry physical interactions flashed frantically across his thoughts, his waist turning soft once more as his physical frame leaned flat against the man’s broad shoulder panel, unique to catch Shen Heng’s deep voice delivering a line.

“Had my person refrained from remaining at this location, the target your head was actively pillowing at this current juncture would explicitly constitute the future Noble Consort.”

Song Nanqing compressed his fingers tightly around his sleeve cuff, snapping his face upward to lock eyes alongside his features, the mist clouding his clear eyes turning instantly pure and lucid.

An absolute abnormality plaguing his body, and that specific memory log detailing a lightly dressed maidservant clearing the threshold to approach his daybed first thing before his distinction dissolved into thin air, Song Nanqing lowered his dark eyes to unfasten his outer robe layout, verifying the absolute reality that his internal garments remained impeccably structured without a single loose section. He let out a soft sigh of absolute relief, before slowly lifting his dark eyelashes to analyze Shen Heng’s posture.

The face he hoisted upward explicitly personified an exceptionally magnificent, peerless countenance, the slight upward tilt gracing the outer corners of his eyes carrying a cat-like allure. However, the absolute eminence of his sovereign station lent a highly distinct layer of unapproachable arrogance and proud grace to his profile. Had such a peerless countenance been cultivated within a regular, ordinary household, his mind possessed no capacity to calculate how many years ago his person would have been systematically abducted to experience a wave of passion. Because his profile constituted the absolute Emperor of the realm, the corporate volume of citizens commanding the absolute audacity to look directly into his eyes could be securely verified on a single hand. Coupled alongside the reality that Shen Heng had geopolitical a highly strict, defensive watch over his existence ever since his early childhood years, despite approaching his formal adult years, his mind continuously preserved a highly pure, innocent style completely un-supplemented by passionate interaction.

Had his system refrained from enduring an absolute wave of drugging tactics, how exactly could his physical presentation manifest this current posture, closely mirroring a magnificent begonia flower blooming to an absolute state of ruined decadence?

The unique, tingling wave of absolute numbness had completely failed to dissolve from his limbs. He compressed his long legs together with an absolute trace of embarrassment, his long fingers restlessly twisting the fabric of his wide sleeve. His mind swirled into a highly complex maze, harboring a wave of lingering terror on one hand and deep regret on the other, a sequence of logical deductions analyzing which precise faction had masterminded the maidservant’s deployment surfacing within his thoughts one after another.

Song Nanqing compressed his lips slightly, stating, “That specific maidservant…”

“Claiming that her soul harbored an intense wave of absolute admiration targeting Your Majesty’s profile, willing to gamble her life simply to manage a single session of personal service, completely uninitiated regarding the wider drugging logistics.” Shen Heng spoke flatly as if he fully anticipated the exact question running through his thoughts. “Enduring two burning incense durations of severe physical interrogation deep inside the Imperial Prison, her mouth continuously refrained from altering the narrative.”

What specific timeline marked the absolute launch of this crisis, permitting his personal culinary assets to be systematically spiked with an unverified substance without a single trace of baseline detection, further allowing random maidservants to smoothly clear his bedchamber threshold at their own discretion? Or perhaps alternative factions had consistently possessed this absolute capacity throughout his history, unique choosing to abandon their deceptive masks the exact split second his age parameters approached his formal adulthood.

“Does your mind place absolute trust within her syllables?”

The moment his emotions flared, the internal drug potency launched a fresh wave of activation throughout his system. The trailing cadence of Song Nanqing’s voice carried a highly distinct trace of a soft tremor and damp moisture. The sentence choice explicitly intended to manifest a sharp burst of petulant fury, yet the execution unique yielded a highly distinct trace of a soft, petulant whine, his frame leaning flat against the man’s body to execute a continuous series of fine tremors.

Monitoring his physical status, Shen Heng casually clapped his hands together. An administrative attendant smoothly cleared steps to approach the exterior layout of the heavy curtain panel, dropping his head to deliver a whisper. “Your Majesty, your medical soup asset has been successfully prepared.”

Song Nanqing lifted his long hand a fraction. Carrying the presentation tray unit within her fingers, a palace maidservant dropped her eyes to approach his position, depositing the white porcelain bowl unit flat over the daybed counter structure.

Shen Heng lowered his dark eyelashes to inspect the memorial resting flat over the desk layout.

Song Nanqing executed a swift, stealthy glance to inspect his features, extending his index finger forward to press flat against the rim of the medicinal bowl, pushing the tool sideways across the counter layout before fretfully tugging at the imperial tutor’s sleeve fabric.

“The Master completely refrains from harboring a single shred of deep sorrow and protective concern targeting my person, commandingly forcing my system to guzzle a bowl of bitter soup medicine.”

Shen Heng lifted his dark eyes to focus his gaze straight over his features. “My heart harbors a wave of deep sorrow and protective concern targeting your life, yet operating as my direct student, to be systematically trapped and brought down by such an underhanded, low-grade tactical maneuver instructs my mind to deduce that Your Majesty must securely execute a thorough wave of deep self-reflection.”

Monitoring the precise path the medicinal bowl was traversing across the counter layout, Shen Heng raised his chiseled jaw slightly to deliver an instruction. “Guzzle the medicine.”

The youth-filled cheeks anchoring the young boy’s face continuously preserved a minor fraction of undeveloped baby fat. At this current juncture, he pouted his mouth slightly, leaning his upper body forward to collapse flat over the counter layout as he spoke. “My person refuses to consume the asset! The vintage explicitly projects an exceptionally bitter appearance on the surface. My system incredibly possesses an absolute lack of brilliant intelligence compared to the Master’s mind, and arriving at the current hour when my body endures such a severe wave of agonizing discomfort, your voice unique chooses to unleash a fierce wave of reprimand, it is vastly better to permit my system to directly perish from the discomfort!”

Song Nanqing collapsed his frame flat over the tabletop structure to throw an absolute wave of playful coquetry straight toward the man’s face, his porcelain-white fingers hooking past Shen Heng’s large hand to execute an unaligned wave of shaking. He pressed his smooth cheek flat against the center of the man’s palm to manage a continuous brush, the expressions anchoring his eyes filled with an absolute wave of deep dependence, his hot breath cascading past the palm bone to communicate a sudden layer of heat and ticklish numbness. He half-closed his clear eyes as a fresh wave of deep crimson flush thoroughly blanketed his cheeks, his breathing turning exceptionally heavy as the drug potency surged upward once more. His dry lips executed a casual brush past the center of Shen Heng’s palm, the sweet fragrance radiating from his body indicating to Shen Heng’s consciousness for the absolute first time in their history that this small child, whose entire growth trajectory his large hands had continuously monitored, had indeed officially transitioned into a grown youth.

His restlessly moving fingers continuously pushed the porcelain bowl unit straight toward the absolute boundary edge of the table structure. Just as his hand prepared to feign a highly careless accident to drop the tool onto the floorboards to smash the porcelain, a deep voice commandingly locked his pacing.

“Qingqing.” A highly visible wave of a threatening cadence intermingled alongside an absolute trace of helpless amusement.

Shen Heng collected the medicinal bowl unit to deposit the tool flat directly before his own gaze, raising the spoon structure to state, “Refrain from managing an unaligned wave of misbehavior.”

The dark brown medicinal fluid was smoothly collected within the spoon basin, delivered straight past the baseline of Song Nanqing’s lips. The young boy opened his mouth with an absolute wave of reluctant non-compliance to swallow the fluid down his throat, his face thoroughly contorted into a tight knot as his upper body scrambled backward to execute a defensive retreat, unique to be firmly captured along his chiseled jawline as the man commandingly fed the entire contents straight past his teeth.

“Cough, cough… assassination! This specific action explicitly constitutes nothing but an absolute assassination targeting the Sovereign Lord!” Song Nanqing extended his pink tongue outward, his beautiful brows tightly knitted from the intense bitterness, his face mirroring a magnificent begonia blossom as his clear eyes turned thoroughly drenched in moisture, his visage exuding an absolute aura of extreme grievance and sorrow.

A boundless expanse of bitter taste blanketed his mouth cavity, a small section of his kingdom tongue extended outward to project a highly distinct trace of an alluring, soul-hooking cadence. Right at this precise juncture, a single preserved sweet plum was systematically stuffed straight past his teeth, instantly dissolving the thousand layers of bitter taste trapping his palate.

“唔… salt-cured plum, and the vintage explicitly belongs to the signature craft of the Meipo Studio.” Song Nanqing cradled the preserved sweet plum within his mouth cavity to distinguish the highly unique, distinctive flavor metrics, his long eyelashes continuously drenched in moisture as a sudden, bright smile illuminated his features once more. Catching a swift glance of the absolute reality verifying that Shen Heng was currently storing his silk pouch unit away, his long legs shifted to execute an exceptionally rapid pace to wrap his arms tightly around the alternate man’s arm.

“The Master took the absolute initiative to purchase the asset for my sake? This specific brand unique permits a citizen to secure the goods if his frame coordinates an exceptionally early queue line first thing in the morning, my person commandingly instructed Spring View to manage the purchase logistics across a myriad of sessions, yet her hands consistently failed to secure a single piece.”

Shen Heng unique delivered a minor nod of his head to validate the metric. The young emperor wrapped his arms securely around his broad arm to execute an unaligned wave of shaking, restlessly rubbing his frame against his side panel to demand another piece of the sweet plum asset. The young sovereign had inherently sampled every single category of exotic delicacy and rare culinary masterpiece across the entire realm ever since his early childhood years; he was unique leveraging this specific baseline metric simply to forge a convenient excuse to approach the man’s proximity.

Arriving at the current hour, which specific faction had masterminded the absolute drugging plot remained completely unverified within his thoughts. However, looking across the wider expanse of the court and the imperial palace, absolutely no corporate figure harbored an intent to witness his frame smoothly and securely operating as a competent emperor. The powerful leg of the Regent Prince was an asset his system had securely clung onto throughout a highly prolonged duration of years, and the lone, single secret commanding his capacity to preserve a tight grip over the structure was: harmlessness. His profile must securely personify an absolute presentation of childish innocence, his soul must be highly skilled at exhibiting an absolute wave of deep dependence, his mind must project a trace of intelligence yet completely refrain from scaling to an excessive parameter, and the exact split second his existence was separated from Shen Heng’s care, he must turn entirely incapable of executing a single valid action. Unique by locking his persona along this exact parameter could his life smoothly secure an absolute protective umbrella amidst a massive cluster of wolves, leopards, and jackals desperately craving to tear his flesh apart to devour his frame.

Naturally, Shen Heng’s profile did not belong to a thoroughly secure, benign category of a protective umbrella either. Tracking across the wider scroll of historical text from antiquity straight to the current hour, which specific powerful court official who took the absolute initiative to install a young ruler over the dragon throne genuinely harbored an intent to cultivate a highly brilliant, independent sovereign from the absolute ground up? The entire corporate volume of their strategic maneuvers was explicitly executed simply to grasp absolute dominance over the state machinery.

Song Nanqing reined in his deep thoughts, smoothly restoring a highly natural, innocent and playful demeanor reserved exclusively for a teenage boy, or more accurately, the exact parameter of a persona that delivered the absolute maximum wave of peace and security to Shen Heng’s mind. Appearing exactly as if a single piece of a delicious sweet plum was an asset powerful enough to make his brain completely cast every single fraction of the crisis straight into the waste bin facility.

Shen Heng’s dark gaze executed a casual brush past the absolute tip of the crimson tongue handling the sweet plum asset, rapidly shifting his vision away. A proper gentleman consistently structures his behavior along the absolute metric of refraining from inspecting alternative displays that fail to align alongside the baseline parameters of decorum. His towering physique remained impeccably upright as his hand collected the tea cup unit resting over the table layout to manage a slow sip, his movements looking exceptionally measured, elegant, and highly pleasant to a person’s eyes.

Song Nanqing discovered that the alternate man had actually failed to manifest a single fraction of being moved by his tactics, choosing instead to focus his dark eyes over an alternative target layout. Tracking the precise direction his gaze was traversing, his vision aligned straight over the administrative attendant who had delivered the medicinal soup past the threshold a short while ago, who had actually completely refrained from clearing a departure path even after depositing the bowl.

Staring fixedly over the silhouette of that specific palace servant and the tea cup unit cradled within Shen Heng’s long fingers, a sudden spark of light flashed unsteadily across Song Nanqing’s eyes. His lips curved into a handsome, gentle smirk as he spoke. “Your physical features project such an exceptional level of aesthetic beauty to attend directly beside my imperial person. Tell me, do you suppose the Regent Prince must focus his vision over the text lines of the state memorials, or should his dark eyes focus straight over your own visage?”

Hearing his verbal statement, the palace servant turned instantly pale from an absolute wave of intense panic, dropping his knees straight onto the floorboards to execute a frantic kowtow, his body shivering violently as he lacked the absolute audacity to lift his head.

Shen Heng completely disdained to deliver a single glance toward his frame, sitting flat over the daybed layout as his mouth voiced a casual sentence choice. “An absolute lack of fondness? Instruct his frame to clear a path straight outside the threshold immediately, that suffices.”

Officials across the imperial palace openly claimed that the emperor harbored a highly excessive wave of deep reverence targeting the Regent Prince, the private parameters of their relationship looking exceptionally harmonious and intimate, though those details securely belonged to the subsequent chapters of the narrative.

Catching the absolute reality verifying that the executive order had been systematically dispatched down the ranks, Shen Heng let out a handsome, low chuckle. “Does this dynamic not securely validate the reality that your mind is remarkably intelligent?”

Song Nanqing lowered his dark eyelashes, turning his body around to face the opposite wall panel to present his back to the man.

Naturally, his profile could completely fail to personify a thoroughly brainless, absolute fool either. Otherwise, an absolute idiot of an emperor who possessed absolutely no baseline competence regarding how to deliver the precise metrics Shen Heng’s soul craved, completely incapable of supplying the rich entertainment of cultivation and guidance, would securely constitute nothing but a piece of absolute waste material.

Turning his body around once more to approach his proximity, the gaze anchoring Song Nanqing’s clear eyes was thoroughly packed alongside an absolute wave of deep, filial reverence and devotion, the pacing of his voice sounding exceptionally sincere as if his soul completely lacked a single fraction of a manufactured lie to voice his syllable choice. “My heart unique desires that the Master’s eyes permanently focus their gaze straight over my lone silhouette.”

Completely failing to grant Shen Heng a single split second of a preparation window to coordinate a valid reaction to the statement, his voice guided the words straight toward a subsequent query. “My maternal uncle dispatched a formal memorial unit to deliver a brief wave of greetings, does the Master’s mind happen to have executed a thorough inspection targeting the asset?”

“The central palace remains completely stripped of a formal empress, the text continues to deliver nothing but that exact identical parameter of repetitive arguments.” Shen Heng used his long hand to forcefully push the memorials resting flat beside his elbow toward the side layout, appearing on the surface as if his mind completely disdained to place this imperial uncle, who simultaneously occupied the absolute station of the Head of the Grand Secretariat, anywhere inside his calculation logs.

Beside the continuously rising columns of top-grade jianan agarwood fragrance, Song Nanqing’s gaze executed a casual brush past the massive cluster of scattered, collapsed state memorials, his voice sounding a fraction cold. “My maternal uncle appears a fraction too frantic and hurried.”

The core focus of his words shifted across a sudden tactical transition, his chin resting flat over his palm as his fingers hooked past the fabric of Shen Heng’s sleeve, his damp deer eyes staring fixedly into the man’s gaze as he spoke. “Even after consuming the medicinal soup asset, my body continuously endures a severe wave of agonizing discomfort, what specific option must my system execute now?”