Your Majesty, Please Be Obedient - Chapter 14

Jiang Qiyan did not pick up any other books; he simply picked up the copy of Dui Yun that he had not finished studying that morning.

It seemed that being by his Master’s side allowed his heart to settle. He rested the book on his Master’s lap and leaned half-pressed against him as he read.

The light in the oil lamp gradually dimmed. Pu Tingsong used a small golden spoon to flick the wick, causing the flame to surge instantly and brightening the study. However, oil lamps are dim by nature, and shadows inevitably flickered.

As Jiang Qiyan read, his attention drifted, and he could not help but start observing his Master’s shadow. The shadow was long and slender, showing only a rough silhouette. But even that was beautiful. How could Master be so good-looking, even in his shadow?

Unconsciously, Jiang Qiyan brought his finger to his lips, his small mouth parting slightly as if he intended to bite it. His fingertip was suddenly caught by a larger index finger and thumb. His Master held his finger and pressed it back down onto the page.

“This is a bad habit. What if you bite through the skin?”

Pu Tingsong released his finger and tapped the boy’s forehead. “If you truly want to bite something, you can bite Master’s.”

It did not seem like a joke. After that, his Master used only his right hand to flip through and annotate the memorials. His left hand remained hanging below the table the entire time, at a height where Jiang Qiyan could pull it into his arms and bite whenever he wished.

Something dripped down, wrinkling the surface of the paper. Jiang Qiyan hugged his Master’s left hand. He did not bite; he simply nuzzled his face gently against it.

“There, there,” Pu Tingsong sighed. “It is one thing to use Master’s hand to wipe away tears, but to wipe your little runny nose, is that not a bit much?”

“I did not,” Jiang Qiyan’s voice was muffled. “There is no snot.”

“Alright, it is Master’s fault for wronging little Qiyan.” That hand curved to cup his small chin, while the other hand set down the brush and took a clean handkerchief to wipe his face.

He was gentle to the absolute extreme.

Jiang Qiyan looked at the moon outside the window. People always said the moon was gentle, but why did he see it as always emitting a cold light? Master was not like moonlight; he was more like candlelight. Candlelight is warm, and when the orange-red glow falls on a person, it creates a scene of quiet, peaceful, and beautiful years.

The moonlight outside shone on every passerby, on all living things. The candlelight in the study only shone on him and his Master.

Jiang Qiyan yawned, the hot breath lifting the thin silk handkerchief.

“Hard work, little Qiyan,” Pu Tingsong said, folding the handkerchief and placing it on the table. He then held the child’s waist to adjust his position, letting him pillow his head comfortably on his lap. “Close your eyes for a while. Master will give you a bath after I finish working.”

The lamp oil had been replenished once. Just as it was about to burn out, Pu Tingsong finally extinguished the flame with a wave of his sleeve. He picked up the sleeping Jiang Qiyan and pushed open the study doors. Two small maidservants carrying lanterns followed to provide light, only turning back once they reached the entrance of the master bedroom.

Pu Tingsong laid Jiang Qiyan on the soft bed and began unfastening the defenseless child’s robes. Jiang Qiyan squinted his eyes open just a crack. Seeing it was his Master, he quickly closed them again and spread his little arms out to make it easier for his Master to undress him.

Pu Tingsong gave a silent laugh, then turned to wash a towel to wipe the boy’s body.

“Why are you so well-behaved?” In his half-asleep state, Jiang Qiyan caught his Master speaking. “When you are older, stay this well-behaved, alright?”

“Okay,” Jiang Qiyan mumbled in response. “Behaved for a lifetime.”

Pu Tingsong let out a long sigh. “If you are like this, Master is almost loath to let go.”

Pu Tingsong supported the child’s waist, having him lift his legs to change his clothes. He tied the silk ribbons into beautiful, exquisite butterfly knots.

“If you stay well-behaved for a lifetime, Master will spoil you for a lifetime, how about that?”

As long as Jiang Qiyan did not harbor any thoughts he should not have, he could be a gentle Master for a lifetime. He could keep this little rabbit tucked in his palm, cradling and protecting him forever. But if the little rabbit tried to jump out of his palm or escape his control.

“Qiyan,” Pu Tingsong stroked the child’s hair, soothing him in a low voice. “You must be obedient.”

The scent of agarwood drifted into Jiang Qiyan’s nose. He reached out his hand, trying to catch his Master’s wrist. But Pu Tingsong did not let him have his way. He simply withdrew his hand and walked behind the screen to take a quick bath.

Water droplets meandered down Pu Tingsong’s broad back, tracing snake-like paths across his calves before soaking into the wooden floor. Pu Tingsong wrapped himself in a towel, dried the water, and changed into a moon-white inner robe. The moonlight draped over it, giving off a cold and lonely luster.

Wearing wooden clogs, Pu Tingsong took a few steps forward, leaving the window and that pale moonlight behind. He blew out the candle by the bed, and darkness swallowed everything in the room.

“Sleep.”

All was silent.

Fang Wuming was kneeling at the foot of the bed, pinching someone’s sole. That someone was moving restlessly, forcing him to crawl back and forth on the bed just to chase that damned foot. It was a total humiliation, an absolute disgrace.

“Master Fang, why do I get the feeling that you are not very happy to serve me?”

“How could that be, Pavilion Master? You are overthinking it.” Fang Wuming recalled every happy memory of his life just to maintain a forced smile. “It is truly the honor of three lifetimes for Wuming to serve the Pavilion Master.”

I have had the worst luck in eight lifetimes to be tangled up with a lingering bastard like you.

Fang Wuming suppressed the urge to curse. As if intentionally teasing him, that foot moved to another spot.

“Pavilion Master, could you please stop tossing and turning?” Fang Wuming, at his wit’s end, crawled over and grabbed the ankle to stop Qin Shizhi from moving. “My knees are about to be rubbed raw.”

“Oh? Do you want this Pavilion Master to dote on you?”

Dote on your mother! If it were not for you, I would…

“Yes, please, Pavilion Master, dote on Wuming.”

“How old is Master Fang this year?” Qin Shizhi picked up a segment of an orange and popped it into his mouth with delight.

“Fourteen.”

“Well then, you are not a child anymore. This Pavilion Master does not fancy you. I have always preferred tender, fair-skinned little children. Your old skin and tough flesh, so what if it gets rubbed raw? I would find it hard on my teeth anyway; I have no appetite for it.”

How could he hear everything I’m thinking? Just how many spies did this Qin Shizhi plant around him? Fang Wuming could not help it; he punched the bed board.

“My,” Qin Shizhi immediately sat up. “You scared this Pavilion Master to death. My mind is all muddled now; I have suddenly forgotten where I put that dossier.”

Fang Wuming looked at the corner of the seal peeking out from the other’s robes. It was right there in his lap.

“Master Fang’s temper truly frightens me. Never mind, I should find someone else to serve me.”

“No, do not.” Fang Wuming crawled over at top speed and hugged Qin Shizhi’s waist. “Pavilion Master, Wuming begs you. You know my background. If I cannot take revenge, I…”

“What does that have to do with me?” Qin Shizhi was about to mock him when he saw a pair of small hands lightning-fast grab the corner of the dossier and yank it hard.

The sash came undone, the dossier was snatched away, and the person vanished.

“Interesting.” Qin Shizhi did not give chase. He simply fanned himself leisurely. After a few strokes, he sneezed. “Achoo! The little Head of the House must be thinking of me, talking about me behind my back.”

Fang Wuming hunched his back and returned to his own wing. He did not dare light too many lamps, only a single candle, which he shielded with his hand to keep the light from leaking out. He carefully tore the seal and pulled out the papers inside. The more he read, the more chilled he felt.

“Did I misjudge him?”

Fang Wuming scanned line after line. Xunhua Pavilion traded in information and valued its reputation; they never deigned to fabricate anything. That Pavilion Master Qin was a proud man; there was no need for him to lie.

The fall of the Prime Minister’s Estate was rooted in the fact that Prime Minister Fang had touched interests he should not have. The Emperor was already wary, and with someone reporting him, it ultimately led to the execution of the entire Fang family. At that time, Pu Tingsong had not yet seized control of the imperial court to the extent he had now. That day, Pu Tingsong was merely passing by and, on a whim, gave him a path to live.

Because he followed behind Pu Tingsong, naturally no one questioned his identity, and he managed to slip through. Strictly speaking, it was the Imperial Preceptor who had saved his life. But why did his biological uncle, his mother’s own brother, tell him that it was Pu Tingsong who caused the Fang family’s destruction?

Fang Wuming placed the paper over the candle flame, letting it quickly burn to ash. There were still many suspicious points in this matter; he could not be careless. However, the matter of the assassination could be put aside for now.

The next day, there were still two chairs in the dining hall. Jiang Qiyan was chewing on a bun, his cheeks puffed out, but his eyes were not on the food. He was staring intently at Fang Wuming. Why did Brother Fang keep staring at Master? And he looked so guilty and regretful.

He was all too familiar with that expression; he often looked at Master that way himself. Could Brother Fang have done something to hurt Master? He had to find out.

Pu Tingsong did not look at Fang Wuming at all, nor did he care what kind of gaze Fang Wuming was using. He simply poked the bulging little cheek and could not help but chuckle.

“Why do you only keep stuffing it in without swallowing?” Pu Tingsong feigned a sigh. “Has Master been starving you? To eat so ravenously.”

Huh? Did I not swallow? Jiang Qiyan dazed for a moment, then touched his own cheeks. I was thinking so hard that I actually forgot to swallow. Jiang Qiyan’s face quickly flushed red. Will Master think I am stupid? Will he think I am an idiot?

“If you keep staring at others like that, Master might just get upset.”

Jiang Qiyan hurriedly closed his eyes and shook his head, indicating he would not look. A laugh came from above his head again. “If you are thinking about it in your heart, I will still be upset.”

Jiang Qiyan did not even want the bun anymore. He put it back in the bowl and buried his head in his Master’s arm. It was as if he were saying he did not want anyone but Master.

The laughter turned into a sigh. “Do you care about Master that much?”

“Yes, I care about Master most.”

“You, you are the most well-behaved.” Pu Tingsong picked up the half-bitten bun and fed it to Jiang Qiyan’s lips. “Come, say ‘ah’.”

Jiang Qiyan peeked with one eye open, but did not dare look at anyone else. Once he confirmed the bun’s position, he took a big bite and closed his eyes again.

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