Whoever can strike me hard will be rewarded handsomely.

The boy lowered his eyes, held the bamboo board in both hands, and spoke sincerely, appearing to be completely genuine.

But when he said he hesitated to enter officialdom because he was afraid of disappointing his parents' expectations for his happiness and peace, he said the same thing when he appealed to Jiang Jibai's emotions.

If he were truly afraid of worrying his family, how could he have become the emperor's secret guard, an extension of imperial power, doing a life of constant danger?

As he himself admitted.

He had told countless lies to him.

Truth and falsehood are intertwined; the young disciple is shrouded in mystery, shrouded in enigma.

Jiang Jibai took the bamboo clapper, his voice devoid of emotion, yet sharp and incisive, "You deliberately slipped that token to Shang Jingming right in front of me?"

Jiang Jibai was as clear-sighted as could be, able to deduce ten things from a single detail. Qin Ji knew he couldn't hide it from him and had been prepared. "Yes."

"I've revealed too many flaws in front of you; with your keen perception, you can no longer hide them. Due to my position, I cannot tell you the truth, so we can only use this method to understand each other implicitly."

"Besides..." Qin Ji looked up into Jiang Jibai's eyes, "I don't want to deceive you anymore."

Qin Ji clenched his right hand under his sleeve, his fingers digging into his palm as if in self-torture. A burning pain spread from his palm upwards, scorching his heart.

This long passage is entirely true, but its purpose is to mislead Jiang Jibai into thinking about the "unspeakable" nature of the secret guards.

He says he'll tell the truth, but he still does things that are deceitful and says things that are deceitful.

Qin Ji closed his eyes, his knees touching the ground. "I deceived you first, I was full of lies. I am willing to bear your anger and pay the price for what I did."

Jiang Jibai looked at the teenager kneeling in front of him and had many questions he wanted to ask.

I want to ask about those parts that he always felt were out of place and didn't make sense.

I'd like to ask him how he became the leader of the secret guards at such a young age?

I want to ask him what kind of heavy responsibility he carries on his young shoulders?

I want to ask him if his spoiled and arrogant behavior is an act?

I'd like to ask him how much suffering he endured because of this identity?

But he couldn't ask.

As Shang Jingming said, if the junior disciple's identity as a bodyguard is true, his investigation will only worsen Bian Feibai's already precarious situation.

Where did his young disciples' maturity and ease come from? Will their tacit understanding bring him trouble?

Jiang Jibai was eager to know, but dared not delve into it, so he could only avoid the topic. He held the slightly cool bamboo board, pointed to the bench next to him, and said, "Lie down on it."

Although he was being punished, Qin Ji felt as if a corner of a huge boulder had broken off from his heart. Although he couldn't be completely relieved, he did feel a little lighter.

Without the slightest hesitation, he bent down onto the bench.

The bamboo clapper was raised and then slammed down without any hesitation, leaving a whitish mark on the lower half of Qin Ji's buttocks where they were about to touch the stool. Qin Ji groaned, but surprisingly, he didn't wail.

The force was no less than before.

Jiang Jibai glanced down at the boy's drooping head and the hand gripping the edge of the bench.

The bamboo slats fell again, landing squarely on the first white mark.

Qin Ji silently endured this further beating that only exacerbated his injuries.

With a series of slicing sounds from the bamboo clappers, Jiang Jibai slapped the bamboo clappers five times in a row, leaving only a single crease on the back of the hem.

In the past, the young disciple's wailing would have probably pierced the roof, but today the boy silently endured it, only his white fingertips gripping the edge of the bench showed that he was not as relaxed as he appeared.

A burning mark; even without touching it, Qin Ji could feel a high, raised beam behind him, and his clothes might already be bruised underneath.

The board fell again, to the same spot.

Qin Ji gritted his teeth, enduring the excruciating pain that felt like being fried in oil and boiled in fire, his face turning pale.

"Smack."

"Smack."

On the tenth time, the breath that had been trapped in his chest finally broke through his teeth and spilled out of his lips, only to be abruptly cut off and crushed between his teeth. The boy's forehead was covered with a fine layer of cold sweat.

Even with a high fever, he could still run errands busily; no matter how severely he was punished in the past, he could get up and walk around as if nothing had happened to save face; even when Shen Jiangliu was outside, he could remain silent.

The board struck ten times without holding back, finally eliciting a groan of pain when it landed on one spot.

The young disciple is indeed very tolerant; whether he cries or not depends on whether he wants to, not whether he can.

As the bamboo cane pressed against the white mark on the back of his shirt, Jiang Jibai spoke, but it was about something entirely different: "You got beaten but didn't know to apply medicine, you got sick but didn't know to ask for leave, do you really think your body is made of iron?"

"Not taking care of your own body."

Qin Ji suddenly looked up.

No, no, this isn't what you ordered.

Before Qin Ji could speak, the bamboo slats were raised high and fell like rain, each slat diagonally piercing through the previous mark, covering the small area twice, from left to right and then from right to left.

Qin Ji was preoccupied, but he endured the inappropriate beating. His back felt as if it were on fire, the pain piling up layer upon layer.

Jiang Jibai seemed determined to teach him a lesson. The third ten strokes were parallel to the first mark and landed at the junction of his buttocks and legs.

Qin Ji's back was taut, his temples were soaked with cold sweat, his breathing was rapid and disordered, each breath heavier than the last, and a thin mist veiled his eyes.

He didn't move an inch, letting the bamboo sticks be pressed down on the most painful spot again and again.

The beating paused briefly, and Qin Ji sat on the bench for a long time before blinking away the misty tears in his eyes. Before the next round of punishment began, he asked in a low, hoarse voice, "Wasn't the punishment for deception?"

Jiang Jibai didn't answer but instead asked, "If I hadn't noticed you had a fever and couldn't even stand up, were you planning to collapse on your job?"

Jiang Jibai's repeated evasiveness made Qin Ji feel uneasy.

Before he fell ill, Jiang Jibai was clearly pressing him about his identity, so why is he always dodging the question now?

What exactly happened while he was resting?

He told so many lies, wasn't the teacher angry at all?

The board tapped behind him, and Jiang Jibai calmly reminded him, "Answer me."

Qin Ji had no choice but to suppress his doubts and said dryly, "I was wrong."

The young disciple's reaction clearly shows he didn't listen to what he was saying.

The bamboo slats struck ten more times without mercy, leaving two exaggerated white marks on the buttocks.

This time, the young disciple howled from the first cry to the tenth, tears streaming down his face.

As the familiar, piercing sound assaulted his ears, Jiang Jibai stopped, pressing the paddle against his wound. "Did you hear me?"

"I listened! I listened!"

Qin Ji thought to himself, "This is like a cricket chirping in my heart."

There were a total of forty blows from beginning to end, and thirty of them were aimed at the place where the person was sitting. How vicious!

You tell me to take care of my health? What are you doing?

Damaging my imperial body!

Trespass!

Jiang Jibai put down the bamboo clappers and squatted down in front of the bench. He stroked his young disciple's sweaty head and asked with interest, "You endured thirty strokes without making a sound, did your teeth break?"

The guilt he felt from the deception was shattered by a single sentence. Qin Ji gritted his teeth and asked in a muffled voice, "Aren't you going to bring up the old grievances about deceiving me? I'll take it all in, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Jiang Jibai smiled gently, like the clear moon and gentle breeze of early March. "Your identity is special, and this matter involves your life and fortune. It's not your choice not to speak up, and I don't blame you."

The teacher didn't blame him... Qin Ji's tears fell like rain, "You hit me thirty times in a row, it hurt so much."

...

I appreciate everyone's enthusiasm. Thank you all for your love, support, and gifts. I'll update before 10 PM tomorrow night, and I'll try to update earlier and earlier. Love you all.