The Imperial Tutor's Instructions - Chapter 3

Inside the warm pavilion, a narrow crack was left open in the window layout, allowing a gentle breeze to filter past the threshold and cause the flower branch resting beside the frame to shiver slightly. The dark wood lattice patterns were neatly arranged across a shifting design, the morning sunlight filtering past the white window paper to deliver a faint layer of illumination straight into the room.

Seated directly before the red sandalwood writing desk were two figures. The resident occupying the left-hand position sat cross-legged, using his left hand to casually flip a page of his book manuscript while his alternate hand picked up a single piece of milk-flavored candy cake to deposit the asset past his teeth. The outer corners of his eyes curved into a beautiful smirk as his mouth handled the chewing logistics, his visage exuding a thoroughly complete, blemishless expression of absolute satisfaction.

A minor scattering of pure white cake crumbs casually clung to the absolute edge of his lips. Song Nanqing extended his pink tongue outward to execute a swift swipe, and the exact split second his long fingers successfully flipped past an alternate text page, a formal state memorial unit was commandingly pressed flat directly over his reading layout.

Shen Heng leaned his towering frame forward to approach his proximity, stating, “Focus your mental concentration to inspect this specific asset.”

Song Nanqing rapidly stuffed the remaining half fraction of the milk candy cake past his teeth, his cheeks turning instantly puffed and swollen as his long fingers worked to manage the chewing logistics while his dark eyes lowered to analyze the text lines written across the memorial.

The text explicitly constituted a formal impeachment memorial dispatched past the threshold by the Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate, every single word written along the path sounding exceptionally earnest, sharp, and thoroughly packed with an absolute mountain of deep irony. The lines commandingly claimed that the biological son of the Head of the Grand Secretariat Jia Liang, Jia Shikai, possessed a thoroughly degraded moral character and an exceptionally unrefined, volatile temperament. The youth had recently coordinated a massive physical brawl against alternative citizens simply to contest a prominent courtesan residing inside a pleasure house, executing a severe wave of physical injuries targeting multiple residents while unleashing an absolute torrent of petulant, misbehaving syllables. The text argued that Jia Liang had systematically failed to enforce tight household discipline over his offspring, a metric that required his person to execute a thorough wave of deep self-reflection, further noting that his current grasp over the supreme administrative power of the court looked exceptionally frantic and absolute, a hidden crisis that could easily jeopardize the sovereign safety of the state machinery across the subsequent chapters.

Monitoring his puffed cheeks as he actively managed the consumption of his sweets, Shen Heng extracted a pristine silk handkerchief unit straight out from his long sleeve, using the fabric to gently brush away the stray cake crumbs clinging to the edge of his lips. “Decelerate your chewing pacing, there exists absolutely no frantic hurry under the parameters.”

Song Nanqing extended his vacant palm toward his position, letting out two muffled murmurs, unique for a hot tea cup unit to be smoothly delivered straight before the baseline of his lips along the path. Taking two slow sips of the fluid, his vocal cords finally reclaimed their absolute capacity to handle a regular wave of verbal text.

Swallowing a few sips of the tea, he forcefully pushed the porcelain cup toward the side layout, knitting his beautiful brows as he spoke. “The vintage explicitly projects a highly severe wave of bitter taste under the filter.”

Shen Heng lowered his dark eyelashes to inspect the layout, unique to discover that because his mental concentration had been far too deeply focused over the boy’s status a short while ago, his hand had carelessly delivered a completely reversed cup selection. The vessel he had fed straight to Song Nanqing’s lips explicitly constituted his personal tea cup unit, the fluid stains lining the rim of the porcelain securely overlapping the dual lip markings left by their respective frames.

“The verbal tone employed by this Vice Censor-in-Chief appears vastly more pleasing to a person’s ears compared to censor Wang Qian’s past history. What specific logic explains why his profile completely failed to execute a single public appearance across the sectors throughout our past history?” Song Nanqing had already successfully forced that mouthful of bitter tea down his throat, directing his verbal query straight toward the text lines written across the memorial layout.

Shen Heng moved the tea cup unit away to deposit the vessel flat over a distant corner, the dark ink-black patterns lining his loose sleeve cuffs closely mirroring a cluster of beautiful tea blossoms unfurling unsteadily amidst a pool of thermal water.

“My ears have harvested a line of intelligence claiming that Wang Qian recently purchased an absolute masterpiece of a secondary villa estate across the suburban sectors. It is exceptionally probable that his presence remains thoroughly occupied handling the refinement and decoration logistics, completely lacking the luxury to monitor the administrative routines of the Censorate.”

Song Nanqing let out a handsome, low chuckle. “The calculations align perfectly alongside logic. Had his profile been residing inside the capital sectors at this current juncture, there stands absolutely no mathematical probability permitting this specific memorial to be smoothly delivered straight to your long fingers.” Appearing as if his mind had successfully unraveled a specific memory log, his voice guided the words straight toward a subsequent sentence.

“A meager handful of days ago during the morning court session, Wang Qian and my maternal uncle seamlessly aligned their movements to execute a highly continuous, beautiful display of good-cop-bad-cop tactics on the floor of the hall. The Imperial We genuinely possessed absolutely no baseline comprehension verifying since which precise historical parameter the hundred civil and military officials operating across our court have systematically grown the exact identical tongue alongside Jia Liang.”

Shen Heng stated flatly, “Bound by a shared cluster of ancestral benefits, sharing an absolute alignment of life, death, glory, and ruin.” Concluding the syllable choice, his hand systematically pulled the memorial unit back past his side panel.

Song Nanqing quietly repeated those specific words across the depths of his thoughts, his clear eyes lowering once more to focus their gaze straight over the book manuscript resting flat over the desk, the text currently displayed before his view explicitly documenting this exact identical parameter of a strategic maneuver. The text detailed a young scholar who successfully weaponized his personal allure to force a magnificent imperial princess to harbor an intense wave of pure romantic affection targeting his profile, commandingly marrying her frame down the ranks to deliver her existence straight into his household. The two lovers subsequently endured a highly grueling series of absolute trials and tribulations before ultimately uniting their hearts to forge an unyielding alignment. Because their survival metrics had been systematically fused into a single cluster of shared benefits, the princess was commandingly forced to surrender a massive volume of ancestral resources and political networks straight into her husband’s hands, causing the absolute sovereign surname of the imperial domain to be systematically altered across the final chapter. This poor youth who had initially managed his early childhood survival amidst a desolate mountain village successfully scaled the ranks, leveraging the absolute romantic affection the princess harbored targeting his visage to ultimately transition into a highly brilliant, supreme emperor of an absolute generation.

Monitoring the plot line down to this precise checkpoint, Song Nanqing’s clear eyes turned entirely fixed and vacant on the spot, his mind entering an absolute, prolonged daze. His consciousness completely lacked the capacity to place absolute trust within the reality verifying that a popular storybook manuscript could genuinely command an absolute trajectory of this category. Flipping the manuscript page straight back to the absolute primary layout, the main title written across the cover was explicitly displayed before his view: Rebirth: Relying Single-Mindedly Over My Sovereign Station as a Princess’s Consort to Step Straight Past the Cloud Gateway to Seize the Imperial Dragon Throne.

The surrounding atmosphere turned thoroughly awkward.

Song Nanqing’s beautiful face manifested a highly visible trace of an absolute loss of tactical competence, calculating within his thoughts that the utility parameter commanding this specific book layout fell vastly short compared to the manuscript his fingers had inspected yesterday morning, which was titled A Single Burning Incense Duration Teaches Your Person the Ten Absolute Arts of Sovereign Man-Manipulation. At the very least, that past manual securely preserved a highly distinct trace of an absolute, practical application metric under the filter.

He pouted his mouth slightly, extending his long fingers past the back panel to extract a brand-new book unit out from a massive pile of manuscripts stacked tightly behind his seat, depositing the asset flat over the desk counter.

The book unit anchored an exceptionally deep navy-blue cover layout, two massive characters neatly written across the center: The Great Learning.

Unfastening the primary cover panel, a highly unique, secondary cover page was systematically laid bare before his gaze, the actual underlying title of the manuscript written along a highly distinct font: The Marquis Pursues His Precious Partner: The High-Profile Young Mistress of the Marquis Manor Executes Her Absolute Flight From the Estate Across Ninety-Nine Continuous Sessions. Song Nanqing’s clear eyes illuminated instantly with an absolute wave of deep joy, completely lacking the capacity to restrain his internal eagerness as his fingers unfastened the text lines, his entire mental focus thoroughly captured by the text lines written across the absolute primary chapter.

“Ye Xuanshang, do your thoughts genuinely calculate that because your long fingers have successfully commanded absolute control over my physical flesh, your soul similarly commands absolute dominance over my heart cavity? Let my voice deliver a definitive notification to your ears immediately: a complete non-existence of the metric!” A single drop of pristine, hot tear casually slid down from the outer corner of Shen Xuerou’s eyes, her face stubbornly lifted to present a highly proud countenance. “My body already cradles the biological offspring of your older brother under my hold! Even if your hand weaponized a series of treacherous, misbehaving plots to forcefully banish his silhouette straight toward the blood-filled parameters of the battlefield, my living frame constitutes his lone partner, and my dead soul will remain his faithful ghost, my person will permanently refrain from marrying your profile down the ranks!”

Ye Xuanshang let out a highly devilish, wicked scoff, his long arm extending forward to lock his grip securely around her shoulder line along an exceptionally commanding, unyielding cadence. “What specific alternative? If your person refuses to marry my profile down the ranks, does your mind genuinely harbor an intent to preserve a marriage alignment alongside his phantom? If your Shen family complex lacks the absolute financial and political backing commanded by my manor ranks, let your soul place absolute trust within the metric verifying that first thing tomorrow morning, the Sovereign Lord will dispatch a formal command down the lines to systematically execute an absolute extermination of your entire family lineage down to the absolute last generation! Choose between marrying my profile or enduring an absolute physical death, let your fingers select a single target immediately!”

Song Nanqing’s beautiful brows tightly knitted into an absolute knot.

What specific logic explains why an administrative interaction involving an emperor’s decree has once more been systematically introduced across the text parameters? Do your thoughts genuinely calculate that an emperor constitutes a cheap asset whose hand dispatches a formal decree to execute an absolute extermination of a family lineage the exact split second your mind desires the metric? Do your thoughts calculate that an emperor constitutes a highly vulnerable target that a minor consort can smoothly step forward to replace at his own discretion? What specific crisis is plaguing the brains of this entire volume of storybook writers? Furthermore, what specific logic explains why a living resident would command a highly ridiculous name like Ye Xuanshang under the filter? Evaluating the absolute parameters governing his natal horoscope, can his physical frame successfully survive past his thirtieth year of age?

His long fingers shifted past the pages to forcefully flip the text lines across several sheets, a highly magnificent, intense physical interaction systematically entering his field of view the exact split second his eyes aligned straight over the layout.

Shen Xuerou picked up on an absolute wave of intense nervous panic and deep, agonizing regret, her long arms securely cradling the man whose entire body was thoroughly drenched in flowing blood close to her chest layout. Her lips continuously planted a sequence of soft, gentle kisses straight over his ice-cold mouth cavity, her voice shivering unsteadily as she spoke. “My person unraveled an absolute comprehension of my error, Ye Xuanshang, every single metric constitutes nothing but my own absolute mistake! As long as your frame commands the capacity to successfully pull your consciousness back past the threshold of death, my person will marry your profile down the ranks first thing tomorrow morning, my soul begs your person to wake up immediately.”

Straight until reaching this exact historical checkpoint, Shen Xuerou ultimately achieved an absolute realization verifying that whatever ancestral family hatred or supreme political calculations had plagued their past history constituted nothing but a fleeting trail of scattered smoke. Her soul unique harbored an intense desire to witness this man pull his consciousness back to life, projecting that exact identical, brilliant smile and fearless grace he had displayed the absolute first instance their eyes locked onto each other’s features.

“What specific reason explains why your voice completely refrained from delivering a definitive notification to my ears earlier? Had your lips taken the initiative to clear the parameters sooner, our two frames would have permanently refrained from traversing straight toward this current state of absolute despair! Ye Xuanshang, my soul harbors a deep wave of absolute hatred targeting your presence.” A single line of crimson blood casually leaked past the absolute edge of Shen Xuerou’s lips, the pacing of her voice turning exceptionally weak and low. “My soul harbors an intense wave of absolute hatred targeting your presence, yet my heart simultaneously harbors an absolute wave of deep romantic affection targeting your visage.”

Song Nanqing’s long fingers shivered unsteadily from an absolute wave of intense nervous panic, driven commandingly by a highly unique, contradictory sensation where his mind felt thoroughly awkward and helpless on one hand, yet completely incapable of resisting the deep urge to continuously scan the subsequent lines on the other. What specific category of an absolute crisis had transpired between their characters to forcefully guide the plot line straight toward this exact checkpoint? Furthermore, can an absolute wave of intense hatred and deep romantic affection genuinely transpire simultaneously targeting the exact identical resident inside a single person’s heart? Having independently inspected such a massive mountain of storybook manuscripts throughout these past few days, his consciousness appeared exactly as if it continuously lacked a baseline metric to comprehend what specific asset romantic love genuinely personified across the world.

“What specific target is your vision actively inspecting?” A highly calm, flat voice smoothly filtered past the threshold to enter his ear cavity. Shen Heng carried a porcelain cup unit packed with a sweet blend of jasmine honey tea to approach Song Nanqing’s side panel, his wide sleeve cuff casually brushing past the desk counter layout along the path. The sandalwood fragrance radiating from his body was exceptionally light and pristine, yet the presentation commandingly forced a person’s consciousness to completely fail to ignore the asset, the vintage projecting a highly distinct trace of a peaceful, calm composure under the filter.

Song Nanqing’s entire body gave a sharp jolt, his fingers forcefully slamming the manuscript shut within a single split second as his mouth voiced a highly hesitant, guilty syllable choice. “No, absolutely nothing substantial, unique executing a casual scan across the lines at my own discretion.”

Shen Heng’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, his long fingers lifting one corner of the blue cover layout, unique for the alternate corner to be commandingly captured within Song Nanqing’s tight grip in a flash. His long fingers compressed their hold around the edges of the manuscript, extending his long arms forward to deliver a highly continuous, forceful shake of his head. Those large, beautiful eyes were thoroughly packed with an absolute wave of deep, pleading supplication, the loose hair strands lining his temples waving unsteadily across his soft cheek in tandem alongside the displacement, a single glance securely verifying that his mind was currently trapped within an absolute state of intense guilt and panic.

“Is the content an asset your soul completely refuses to surrender past the threshold to permit my vision to inspect?” Shen Heng completely refrained from weaponizing an excessive fraction of physical strength. He was currently dressed in a pure black robe today, a garment that made his towering silhouette appear exceptionally serious, sharp, and razor-edged. A meager handful of years ago, Shen Heng’s profile continuously personified an absolute, terrifying killing god whose supreme title alone was powerful enough to instantly halt a small child’s late-night weeping across the capital sectors, relying over his absolute righteousness to execute his own treasonous relatives while systematically annihilating the steppe tribal kings to smoothly secure the absolute favor of the old emperor. It was unique because his presence had completely refrained from stepping foot over a blood-filled battlefield across these past few years that his current appearance systematically prompted alternative citizens to completely ignore his innate, lethal character parameters. Cradling the biological bloodlines of the Great Sheng Princess Royal and the steppe tribal kings inside his veins, the exact split second his visage assumed a highly serious, focused posture, even the most exceptionally handsome, magnificent facial features could completely fail to alleviate a single fraction of the intense, suffocating pressure radiating from his frame.

Originally, Song Nanqing’s system had failed to harbor such a severe layer of intense nervous panic, yet arriving at the current hour, this specific book layout was an asset that completely lacked a single fraction of feasibility under the filter, the text content turning far too excessive and scandalous. Had his hand permitted Shen Heng’s vision to inspect the layout, what specific thoughts would the man’s mind cultivate targeting his personal character? His fingers compressed their grip around the edges of the manuscript without granting a single second of loose release, compressing his lips slightly to project a highly distinct trace of a pleading, coquettish expression, his long eyelashes blinking unsteadily with absolute speed simply to secure an absolute wave of mercy.

“Absolutely impossible, it is genuinely, completely impossible.” Song Nanqing sat tucked over his knees directly atop the soft floor cushion, his physical frame dragged forward across a highly distinct distance along the floor boards simply by the single-handed leverage Shen Heng exerted over the book corner. Monitoring his stubborn resistance, Shen Heng completely refrained from persisting with the physical tug, lifting one of his beautiful eyebrows as his dark eyes delivered a highly deep, shadow-filled glance, the pacing of his voice sounding exceptionally soft and gentle. “Qingqing securely cradles a secret inside his heart, or more accurately, an asset my consciousness is completely forbidden from unyielding an absolute comprehension targeting the metrics.”

The trailing cadence of his voice carried a highly deep, meaningful weight, a dynamic that commandingly forced Song Nanqing’s entire body to execute a continuous series of fine tremors. His mind posts an exceptionally complete comprehension verifying what specific manifestation Shen Heng’s visage projected the exact split second his heart flared with a wave of absolute anger. Although occurrences of this category were exceptionally scarce across their history, the subsequent consequences were explicitly not a metric his physical frame commanded the capacity to successfully endure.

Surrendering the manuscript past the threshold to permit Shen Heng’s vision to inspect the layout unique signified his person would endure a highly temporary wave of intense embarrassment and lost face; yet if his fingers persistently refused the terms, what if Shen Heng’s mind cultivated a dangerous deduction claiming that his profile cradled a secret agenda to smoothly escape from his absolute, defensive control? That dynamic would securely signify his entire existence had officially entered an absolute checkpoint of total ruin.

“Absolutely not.” Song Nanqing rapidly captured Shen Heng’s wide sleeve fabric, his posture closely mirroring an absolute parameter of casting every single layer of self-defense straight to the wind. “All right! My person will surrender the asset to permit your vision to inspect, your person is permitted to examine the layout!”

The exact split second Shen Heng’s dark eyes aligned straight over this specific text copy of The Great Learning, his face manifested a minor fraction of an unaligned confusion. Yet the exact second his fingers unfastened the primary cover page to inspect the underlying second title written across the inner panel, one of his beautiful eyebrows lifted a fraction, casting a highly amused, interested glance straight over Song Nanqing’s visage.

The Sovereign Lord himself was currently using his twin palms to tightly mask his facial features, sitting flat over the adjacent layout as his mind entered a state of absolute, agonizing restlessness, a deep crimson flush thoroughly bleeding past the narrow gaps separating his long fingers to stain his entire face.

By the time Shen Heng successfully completed a brief, casual scan targeting the text lines written across the manuscript, Song Nanqing had already reached an absolute pinnacle of feeling as if his soul prepared to directly ascend straight past the clouds, collapsing his frame flat over the tabletop structure to bury his face completely within his arms without executing a single movement.

“So the underlying reality reveals that Qingqing harbors an intense fondness for inspecting manuscripts of this specific category?” Shen Heng persistently preserved an absolute wall of heavy silence across a prolonged duration before his mouth voiced a sentence.

Song Nanqing snapped his head upward with absolute speed to deliver a sharp contradiction. “My person absolutely does not harbor a single shred of fondness! My system completely lacks the metric!” Catching sight of the absolute reality verifying that Shen Heng persistently maintained a highly composed, amused expression to enjoy the display, he forcefully pounced straight over the man’s long legs to snatch the storybook manuscript back into his hold, throwing the asset straight toward a highly distant layout across the open floor boards. Extending his long arms forward to support his weight flat over the alternate man’s knees, his palms tightly masked his face once more, the rims of his ears thoroughly stained with an absolute crimson flush.

Shen Heng extended his hand to gently stroke the smooth hair strands lining the top of his head canopy, stating, “What specific logic prompts your thoughts to unearth a sudden desire to inspect assets of this category? The parameters governing romantic love and passionate infatuation constitute nothing but the absolute most useless, irrelevant concepts for a sovereign lord to harbor inside his heart.”

Song Nanqing persistently maintained an absolute wall of silent detachment, calculating across the depths of his thoughts that the man’s statement unique held true for a regular, ordinary emperor who sat securely atop the absolute pinnacle of the world to command ten thousand citizens under his hold. His own station explicitly failed to personify an emperor of that magnificent category, but rather a highly vulnerable, helpless target that a minor consort could smoothly step forward to replace at his own discretion, a small, weak emperor whom a random corporate resident could commandingly force to dispatch a formal decree to execute an absolute extermination of a family lineage down to the last generation.

A simple, unrefined peasant youth who had initially managed his survival amidst a desolate mud track could smoothly leverage the romantic affection an imperial princess harbored targeting his visage to securely occupy the absolute dragon throne; a fiercely courageous, battle-hardened pirate leader who had commanded a blood-filled border campaign could smoothly choose to bend his knees to execute an absolute surrender simply for the sake of romantic love. If those metrics successfully held true across the world, could his own profile similarly weaponize and exploit the parameters of romantic love?

Monitoring his prolonged silence, Shen Heng slid his long fingers straight past the smooth hair strands to gently guide the boy’s small head upward by a minor fraction, fixing his deep eyes straight over Song Nanqing’s visage as he spoke. “Does Your Majesty currently harbor an absolute target of romantic affection inside your heart?”

Song Nanqing had been thoroughly trapped deep within the twisting maze of his independent strategic calculations, and hearing the sudden verbal query filtering from the alternate man’s mouth, the expression anchoring his features turned entirely blank and dazed for a brief split second, completely lacking a baseline metric to coordinate a timely reaction. However, translating the display straight past Shen Heng’s vision, this specific physical presentation unique securely validated the absolute reality of an adolescent youth encountering an intense wave of embarrassment the exact split second the hidden secrets of his heart were forcefully punctured by an external probe.

“What specific secret resides inside your thoughts that your soul completely refuses to deliver past the threshold to notify my ears?” Shen Heng casually toyed along the absolute tip of his hair strands, his deep voice carrying a flat, detached cadence. “My soul harbors a severe lack of fondness regarding any instance where your person preserves a hidden agenda to deliberately blind my vision.”

Encountering the absolute primary activation of romantic desires at this specific age parameter was exceptionally common, a natural biological metric across the world. However, evaluating the absolute networks operating under his supreme command, aside from the maidservant who had systematically managed a brief, accidental loophole during that past evening hour, absolutely no external faction possessed the absolute capacity to successfully smuggle a living resident past his defensive watch who could trigger a wave of intense interest within Song Nanqing’s thoughts. If the target failed to personify a woman, who else could it possibly be? Could it mean the target related explicitly to He Xizhi, the young heir whom his long fingers had personally coordinated a lavish wave of rewards to comfort He Yong’s mind? Their age parameters were exceptionally well-aligned, rendering the layout highly feasible for their frames to seamlessly play and interact alongside each other’s proximity. Shen Heng’s mind implicitly unraveled a sequence of memory logs detailing how Song Nanqing had previously broadcasted a lavish wave of verbal praise to celebrate the boy’s absolute competence to capture fish and his exceptionally agile, swift physical movements. The thermal water cradled inside his tea cup unit began to roll with a series of minor ripples in tandem alongside the intensification of the physical pressure exerted from his fingers.

Song Nanqing’s clear eyes executed a rapid, calculating swirl. Recalling the strategic tactical guidelines written across the pages of The Ten Absolute Arts of Sovereign Man-Manipulation his fingers had inspected yesterday morning, the manual explicitly stated that when confronting a direct verbal probe launched from a man’s mouth analyzing “who exactly does your heart favor,” a resident must completely refrain from delivering a highly explicit, clear name layout, yet simultaneously completely avoid shutting down the absolute space of fantasy and illusion commanded by the opposite party. The absolute most optimal strategic solution under the parameters was to adapt.

The morning sunlight shone with an absolute, blemishless brilliance. The young boy sat securely tucked over his knees directly before the red sandalwood writing desk with his dark hair half-draped across his shoulders, the crystal flower vase unit resting over the adjacent storage rack reflecting a magnificent cascade of multicolored light rays straight over his beautiful face. He shifted his long legs forward to approach the man’s proximity across a minor fraction of a distance, wrapping his long arms tightly around Shen Heng’s arm to execute a highly soft, gentle wave of shaking. His soft, tender fingers extended forward to plant a casual, microscopic touch straight across the center of the man’s broad palm, his glistening, soul-hooking deer eyes slowly lifting their focus millimeter by millimeter to stare fixedly straight into the absolute depths of the man’s gaze. The exact angle anchoring his tilted face was a blemishless metric his fingers had meticulously designed yesterday evening in perfect alignment alongside the tactical guidelines written across the manual pages, the small bead of his upper lip slightly curved upward as his mouth dropped its voice to a low murmur that carried three fractions of absolute playfulness, three fractions of helpless compliance, and a highly discrete trace of a timid whisper.

“The Master already possesses an absolute comprehension targeting the metric.”