Whoever can strike me hard will be rewarded handsomely.

The faint aroma of rice porridge lingered in the air. Qin Ji looked at the spoon being offered to his lips and suddenly realized that he was indeed a little hungry.

He opened his mouth, and the warm rice porridge slid down his esophagus, soothing his empty stomach.

This is indeed a very ordinary bowl of rice porridge, nothing special, with not many highlights.

Qin Ji moved his lips and said critically, "The taste is just so-so..."

Jiang Jibai finds it difficult to reconcile the identities of a pampered young nobleman and a ruthless, blood-soaked leader of the secret guards.

However, if his suspicions might cause trouble for his junior disciples, he could pretend not to hear.

Jiang Jibai scooped up a second spoonful of porridge and handed it over without changing his expression, saying, "It's best to eat light meals when you're sick. Make do with this."

Qin Ji snorted in dissatisfaction, but when the spoon was brought to his lips, he obediently swallowed the rice porridge.

The master and apprentice fed each other, creating a harmonious scene, and soon the bowl of porridge was empty.

Jiang Jibai casually placed the bowl of porridge on the wooden table and handed a clean handkerchief to Qin Ji.

While wiping his mouth, Qin Ji muttered, "You're quite lenient with Xiaozao. If I were the one who dragged Doctor Liang over here... hmph."

How could someone who deserves a beating just offer a half-hearted remark?

Sometimes Jiang Jibai couldn't help but wonder if his little disciple was a lemon spirit, able to pick at anything sour, and so petty.

Speaking of Bian Xiaozao, although his spoiled behavior today surprised Jiang Jibai, he is indeed a well-behaved child who knows how to be grateful.

He had previously asked his junior disciple to deliver two books on mechanical arts to Xiaozao, and received a return gift from her in just two days.

A set of exquisitely crafted stamp boxes and... a prescription for constipation?

Jiang Jibai suspected that the recipe might have been carelessly left in the seal box, but... overall, the flaws did not outweigh the merits.

Those are all other things; the most urgent task is to appease the jealous young disciple in front of us.

Jiang Jibai's gaze swept over Qin Ji's slightly displeased face. Instead of answering, he asked, "You are my disciple, and I have a responsibility to teach you. Who is he to me?"

Sweet talk and glib tongue!

Will I fall for that?

Qin Ji pouted, pressing his advantage relentlessly, "Nonsense, you just didn't want to take him as your apprentice, did you? You were just offering your warm face to a cold backside, Xiao Zao doesn't think much of you..."

A dog's mouth can't produce ivory; it's full of things that make people furious. Jiang Jibai simply pinched his mouth shut.

Qin Ji protested with two "squeaks" in frustration.

Jiang Jibai waited until his young apprentice calmed down, then released his hand and touched his forehead.

The fever has subsided slightly, but it is still higher than normal body temperature.

Jiang Jibai soaked the half-dry cloth in cold water again, wrung it out, and handed it to Qin Ji, saying, "Sleep a little longer. I'll wake you up to drink the medicine when it's ready."

It was definitely out of the question to attend the political discussion; the teacher was right beside him, and he wasn't keen on wasting time sleeping. "I feel like I've had enough sleep," Qin Ji said. "Why don't you chat with me instead..."

Jiang Jibai looked at Qin Ji indifferently, "Or do you find lying down uncomfortable and insist on sleeping on your stomach?"

Qin Ji: "..."

How dare you! How can you speak to the Emperor like that?

I am still a patient, Poison Master!

Qin Ji reluctantly shut up and lay down, took the cloth from Jiang Jibai's hand and pressed it to his forehead, then mechanically pulled the quilt up to cover most of his face, leaving only a pair of eyes full of accusation.

Jiang Jibai tucked the blanket around him and said, "Close your eyes."

Qin Ji did as instructed, but his eyes were still darting around under his eyelids.

Jiang Jibai reiterated, "Go to sleep."

Qin Ji opened his eyes, clearly displeased. "It's not like I can just fall asleep whenever I want. You're making things difficult for me!"

Jiang Jibai said casually, "Think about it, once you get better, you might be able to fall asleep."

Qin Ji: "..."

Poison Master, how dare you threaten me?

What will happen after you recover?

May your fortune be as boundless as the Eastern Sea?

What's there to fear about good fortune? I couldn't ask for more!

Qin Ji closed his eyes indignantly, and this time he didn't even blink.

Jiang Jibai chuckled and shook his head, straightening the cloth that Qin Ji had haphazardly stuck to his forehead.

Seeing his young disciple's tense posture, he helplessly lay down fully clothed. As soon as he turned to his side, he met the young disciple's bright and piercing eyes.

The young disciple stepped back to the inside of the bed, making room for half of the bedding. Then, as if remembering something, he sprang back to the side, his back almost touching the wall.

A cold breeze slipped into the blankets, leaving most of his body exposed. Qin Ji covered his nose and sneezed, though it wasn't a big sneeze.

Seeing this, Jiang Jibai reached out and pulled the little disciple towards him, wrapping him up tightly.

Qin Ji struggled to arch backward, mumbling indistinctly, "I'll pass the illness to you in a bit..."

Jiang Jibai casually slapped him on the back, not too hard, and said, "Stop messing around and go to sleep."

Jiang Jibai, how dare you!

After being scolded, Qin Ji opened his mouth, wanting to take advantage of his illness to have a good fight with the Poison Master.

For reasons unknown, he simply grunted a few times and obediently closed his eyes under the watchful eye of the poison master.

A reassuring aura emanated from him, enveloping him.

Is it the fragrance of books or the fragrance of ink?

Qin Ji couldn't tell the difference.

But my spirit, which wasn't tired before, suddenly felt fatigued again.

Sleepiness washed over him, and he vaguely felt someone adjust the cloth on his forehead. He subconsciously moved closer to the heat source and found a comfortable position.

Jiang Jibai looked at the little disciple leaning against his shoulder, adjusted his posture slightly, and looked at him with a gentle and indulgent gaze.

Whether he was a study companion, an imperial bodyguard, or something else entirely, the person before him was just a sick, unruly boy, spoiled yet occasionally so sensible that it broke his heart.

...

in the palace.

The high-ranking officials waited in the Qianzheng Hall for a while, but the Emperor did not appear. Instead, Fu Lu bowed and came out from the inner room. "His Majesty is unwell and requests that you all enter the inner hall to discuss matters."

Upon hearing this, the Minister of Personnel said with concern, "His Majesty is unwell; how dare we disturb him? Perhaps we should discuss this another day?"

Fu Lu said in a low voice, "His Majesty is concerned about the affairs of state. Although he is unwell, he will not delay. Please rest assured, gentlemen, he is just suffering from a cold, sore throat, and hoarseness."

"My lords, please."

The senior officials were relieved, straightened their clothes, and followed Fu Lu into the palace in single file.

Inside the hall, a screen blocked the concerned gaze of the high-ranking officials.

After everyone had paid their respects.

The figure leaning against the imperial couch slightly raised a hand.

Fu Lu said, "Please take a seat."

The palace servants moved stools outside the screen, and several ministers expressed their gratitude and took their seats.

The deliberations were held as scheduled.

The ministers were discussing year-end matters with great enthusiasm.

The agreed-upon charter would occasionally receive a low, hoarse "Approved" from behind the screen.

Occasionally, however, all I receive is a "discuss further" response.

Behind the screen, Yimi and Hongdou, dressed in eunuch robes, stood on either side, each holding a wooden tablet in one hand and a pen in the other, meticulously recording the contents of the political discussion "word by word".

Ginger sat on the dragon throne, a piece of paper filled with topics on her lap. She listened to the discussion outside, and, following the markings on the paper, imitated His Majesty's tone and replied to each question one by one.

When the political discussion concluded successfully, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

After copying the contents of the wooden slip onto paper, Fulu asked, "Who will deliver it to His Majesty?"

Several intense gazes turned towards them at once.