The Seductive Beauty Breaks the Insecure Bottom Script [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 36.2

In a few years, the will of Heaven shall turn.

Is it like this now?

Looking at Imperial Brother’s vivid and beautiful eyes, a thought suddenly occurred to Song Chengnian that he had never had before:

He wanted to disband all the private armies he had raised.

“What are you thinking?”

Song Mingjiao lifted the teapot, poured himself a cup of tea, and took a small sip. It was the newly tributed Pre-Rain Longjing of this year.

He lamented in his heart that he was indeed a most extravagant Emperor; even in an inconspicuous gazebo in the back garden, such precious tea was prepared for him, even though the probability of him walking here was extremely low.

Song Chengnian crouched down beside Song Mingjiao. His looks only shared two or three parts similarity with Song Mingjiao; even though he was young, one could see his facial contours were more three dimensional and sharp, a completely different style from Song Mingjiao’s soft brilliance.

Song Chengnian placed his hand on the robe of Song Mingjiao, who was sitting on the stone bench, and said: “Imperial Brother has picked so many ‘pillars of the state’ for yourself recently; could you also look at this brother?”

Song Chengnian’s eyes were bright, carrying a sort of innocence that nearly couldn’t exist for someone of his age and status, yet his words always hinted at a touch of strangeness.

Song Mingjiao didn’t quite understand the reason for this strangeness, assuming it was just a generation gap between himself and this little brother of this era.

“Oh? You also wish to enter the court?”

Song Mingjiao laughed, reaching out to swat away the “claw” Song Chengnian had placed on his robe.

As everyone knew, the Sixth Prince’s mother and the current Emperor’s mother had disliked each other since the time of the late Emperor. When the current Emperor ascended, the throne had almost fallen to the Sixth Prince, Song Chengnian.

Thus, until today, although the Emperor had titled his sixth brother a Prince and had not driven him to a fief or imprisoned him, the Sixth Prince remained merely an idle prince who could not participate in politics or hold power, remaining outside the center of power in the capital.

Had it been anyone else, they would have understood the Emperor’s meaning from the act of swatting the hand away and would have withdrawn sensibly, no longer seeking what they shouldn’t.

But Song Chengnian was different; his mind had been abnormal since childhood.

Imperial Brother had swatted his hand away. Not only did he not feel angry or humiliated, he even felt an unprecedented surge of excitement.

Because his Imperial Brother had actually revealed an emotion before him that did not belong to that dragon robe.

It was too rare! He loved it too much!

So Song Chengnian persisted: “Rest assured, Imperial Brother. I have been idle at home recently, constantly improving my abilities, hoping to share Imperial Brother’s burdens soon.”

A Prince who was the Emperor’s greatest concern, who had competed for the throne and had a discordant relationship, telling the Emperor he had been “accumulating strength” how was that different from saying he had been planning a rebellion?

Song Mingjiao gave Song Chengnian a half-smile.

He now believed the plot background the system gave him; this good brother of his was indeed not simple.

However, Song Mingjiao was not an Emperor born and bred in this ancient world; he did not have a massive obsession with the throne like “allowing no one else to sleep beside the bed.” This was merely an identity for a mission, and he knew he would not stay long in this world.

Because he didn’t know if the system’s brain had short-circuited when picking this mission world. Given the massive status gap between him and the male lead Emperor and Top Scholar there was no need to painstakingly find evidence and hand it to the police to knock the male lead into the abyss like in the last entertainment world.

Here, he was the true Emperor, the true Heaven. Crushing Shang Nanxuan was as simple as crushing an ant; it only depended on when he finished playing and when he left this world.

Therefore, Song Mingjiao would not stay in the Great Liang Dynasty for long. Thus, for the sake of the small world’s future operation, if this good brother of his truly had ability, perhaps he could pass the dragon throne to him later.

In any case, Song Mingjiao certainly wouldn’t be continuing the bloodline or getting married here!

Thus, the high-and-mighty Son of Heaven spoke as if granting a boon: “Granted.”

Song Chengnian had actually only asked as a test. He knew the status gap and barrier between him and Imperial Brother, so he had long prepared himself for a lifetime of being an idle Prince.

Now, Imperial Brother had suddenly granted the request he had dreamed of.

For a moment, Song Chengnian froze on the spot, not knowing what expression to make.

Song Mingjiao looked at the dazed Song Chengnian and smiled in his heart: Little brother, still trying to play mind games with me.

A piece of cake.

“Imperial Brother had best go back and prepare well. We have heard the eunuchs say that Imperial Brother still plays and sleeps like a child. It mattered not before, but if you miss the court assembly in the future, We will not give you special treatment.”

Having said that, Song Mingjiao smoothed his complex dragon robe. Ignoring Song Chengnian who was still crouching there, he rose and departed on his own.

“Eunuch Zhao, depart.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Careful, the ground is slippery.”

As Eunuch Zhao assisted the young Emperor out of the gazebo, he couldn’t help but look back curiously at the Sixth Prince who still hadn’t stood up.

It seemed the heavens were truly about to change.

Who would have thought that the Sixth Prince, believed to never rise again, would regain the Emperor’s favor after such a simple chance encounter?

This reminded Eunuch Zhao of Shang Nanxuan from a while ago; he too had risen quickly due to a single word of praise from the Emperor. It was just a pity he was useless and could not hold onto the Emperor’s regard.

The heart of an Emperor is hard to fathom.

Eunuch Zhao shook his head, casting away all stray thoughts. Fortunately, from beginning to end, he knew his master was only one person: the Son of Heaven before him.

Eunuch Zhao gazed at Song Mingjiao’s back. The Emperor’s frame was thin; even wearing the heavy dragon robe could not hide his lingering youthful spirit. Yet it was this very Emperor who constantly kept the world in his heart, upholding the entire Great Liang Dynasty.

Song Mingjiao was still dressed in his imperial casual robes, walking towards the direction of the Qionglin Banquet.

Some time had passed; his beloved ministers should have finished their small talk. It was time to go back and show his face to bring a perfect conclusion to this Qionglin Banquet. Of course, this “circle” did not include certain people.

Yet, as he walked, Song Mingjiao once again saw that familiar figure.

He hadn’t originally intended to provoke He Wen, who was already the Prime Minister, but since this person appeared so coincidentally twice in a row, he couldn’t blame the Emperor for damaging the Prime Minister’s “reputation.”

The He Wen of this world wore official robes, and his entire temperament was that of an upright gentleman, nothing like a treacherous minister.

But whether one was a treacherous minister was for Song Mingjiao to decide.

Song Mingjiao pretended not to see clearly who was ahead and asked Eunuch Zhao casually: “Who is that ahead? Why are they blocking the way?”

Eunuch Zhao hurriedly bowed and stepped forward, raising his voice to remind He Wen, who was lost in thought and completely failed to notice the imperial carriage had arrived beside him.

“Your Majesty, the one ahead is Lord Prime Minister He.”

Eunuch Zhao’s shrill voice finally brought back the wandering He Wen.

Given He Wen’s tenure as Prime Minister, he had attended countless Qionglin Banquets—they were all the same, with no novelty. Therefore, as soon as the Emperor left, He Wen, as the Prime Minister second only to one, did not stay long and came out for air.

He Wen stood by the pond in deep thought, remembering Shang Nanxuan whom he had seen at the banquet today; he knew this man enjoyed a unique sort of favor from the Emperor.

At the same time, he thought of the little Emperor he had seen from a distance today. Perhaps because it was outside the court, the Emperor seemed very different from his memory more vivid.

Brows curved like willows, eyes holding the autumn waters, lips red without being painted.

One could not take their eyes off him.

Hearing Eunuch Zhao’s loud reminder, He Wen realized his lapse in etiquette and hurriedly cupped his hands in a salute: “This subject has lost his composure; I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

The little Emperor’s voice, tinged with laughter, drifted over: “The scenery does not intoxicate, yet man intoxicates himself. Does my beloved minister also find the lotuses here beautiful?”

He Wen responded, taking the opportunity to straighten his back and look up, only to inadvertently see the Son of Heaven who had already walked up to him.

Without the distance and barrier of the Golden Throne, and without the beaded curtain of the imperial crown to obscure him, the young Emperor’s appearance burst into He Wen’s sight without any defense.

He Wen had always known the Emperor was exceptionally beautiful, but never had there been a moment like this, where he felt such a close-range shock.

For a moment, he stared blankly.

“Hmm? Why does my beloved minister not speak? Do you disagree with Our view?”

Song Mingjiao watched with satisfaction as He Wen dazed under the atmosphere he had deliberately cultivated. That’s more like it.

But he still wickedly asked these soul-shaking words.

Eunuch Zhao, standing by, was sweating profusely. He didn’t know what was wrong today one after another, they all committed lapses in etiquette before His Majesty. From the initial Shang Nanxuan to the now steady and self-contained Prime Minister, none were exceptions.

“This subject… has misspoke. I beg Your Majesty’s punishment.”

He Wen finally regained his senses and directly lifted his robes to kneel before Song Mingjiao to beg for forgiveness. Yet his heart remained restless; the image of the Son of Heaven looking at him with a smile in his eyes would not leave his mind.

Song Mingjiao laughed softly, condescending to lean down and whisper in He Wen’s ear, his voice soft and only audible to the two of them:

“Could it be that the ‘scenery’ my beloved minister was intoxicated by just now was not the lotuses, but Us?”

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