Whoever can strike me hard will be rewarded handsomely.

However, to be fair, His Majesty himself doesn't really listen to the imperial physicians' advice.

Even when he and that fool Bian Yushu offered their advice, they couldn't persuade His Majesty to take care of his health and rest properly.

At most, he's just... a case of the wrong tree branching out.

A bamboo clapper tapped lightly on his back, as if to remind him.

Shang Jingming suddenly realized his mistake, banishing the rebellious idea from his mind. Realizing the situation, he said, "Jingming knows he was wrong."

Qin Ji said indifferently, "Impatient for quick results, risking your life. Carrying a tent on your back, you still dare to disobey the doctor's orders and disregard your own safety. It seems you dare to disregard not only the doctor's words, but also mine?"

The hat was so big that Shang Jingming's knees buckled and he almost slipped to his knees, but Qin Ji's words, "Don't move," stopped him in his tracks.

Shang Jingming's thoughts raced, and he cleared his throat before quickly saying, "This student knows his mistake and is willing to accept punishment."

Upon hearing Shang Jingming refer to himself as a "student," a hint of a smile flashed across Qin Ji's eyes.

This kid has finally figured it out.

If one continues to refer to oneself as "臣" (chen, meaning subject/subject), what crime would it be for a subject to disregard His Majesty's edicts?

But if students don't listen to their teachers, that's a different story.

Qin Ji uttered a single word, "Forty strokes."

According to the traditions of the sect, he had just received a fresh meal yesterday, and he never cheated anyone, young or old.

Shang Jingming had already experienced forty claps of the small bamboo clapper; it was merely a minor punishment, mostly a warning. "Thank you for your leniency, Teacher..."

Before he could finish speaking, the bamboo slats landed behind him, striking his buttocks, causing Shang Jingming to lean forward slightly.

The pain was secondary; the position was unsuitable for bearing weight, with his only support being his own legs. Remembering that it was His Majesty who had personally bestowed this punishment upon him, his ears turned red, and he quickly steadied himself, daring not to move.

The next blow came immediately, landing squarely on top of the previous one, doubling the heat.

Shang Jingming was already mentally prepared. His years of martial arts experience made his legs rooted to the spot like tree roots, maintaining his posture as steady as Mount Tai.

Following Jiang Jibai's example, Qin Ji imitated him meticulously, striking the buttocks repeatedly until he had struck ten times.

The hissing sound of bamboo clappers slicing through the air echoed in the silent hall. A thin layer of sweat appeared on Shang Jingming's forehead as he silently processed the accumulating pain.

Qin Ji stared at the layers of marks on the board that Shang Jingming had laid out, and felt that it was still not as good as Jiang Jibai's accuracy.

Qin Ji thought to himself: "A poison master is a poison master. Behind his rich experience, who knows how much blood and tears his two cheap senior brothers have shed?"

The eleventh step starts from the hip peak and lands on the lower half of the bench.

Shang Jingming could clearly feel the heat spreading downwards, and a newly baked purlin began to swell slightly.

Then, just like the first ten strikes, the rapid and fast-paced clappers came together again, as if to warn him not to underestimate the small bamboo clappers.

A look of pain crossed Shang Jingming's face as he swallowed a muffled groan, his solid martial arts foundation keeping his lower body firmly in place.

Qin Ji listened to Shang Jingming's slightly heavy breathing, and after he had calmed down a bit, he ruthlessly aimed the third ten strokes at the junction of Shang's buttocks and legs.

Shang Jingming stood with his legs straight, letting the tormenting board strike the less resilient parts of his body, his hands on his legs unconsciously clenching the fabric.

While feeling the pain, he also understood the purpose of His Majesty's strikes on those spots.

These injuries serve as a reminder to him every time he touches a stool that he cannot take advantage of his physical condition and act recklessly.

For the last ten strokes, Shang Jingming thought he would be punished at the border to teach him a lesson, but nothing came of it.

Qin Ji tossed the bamboo stick aside, tucked his right hand into his sleeve, and put it behind his back. "Considering your injuries, I'll let you off easy with the last ten blows."

His Majesty was concerned about his injuries... Shang Jingming felt a warmth in his heart at receiving such preferential treatment as a student.

He wiped the fine sweat from his forehead, tidied his appearance, turned around, and bowed respectfully, his movements showing no hesitation. "Thank you for your teachings, Teacher. Jingming will keep them in mind."

Qin Ji looked down at him.

He went through all that trouble, but this kid is acting like nothing happened. He's not crying, shouting, or limping.

This not only made him appear weak, but also rendered his words of comfort ineffective.

Qin Ji gave Shang Jingming a helping hand to help him up, then looked him up and down several times before saying with displeasure, "Commander Shang is a martial artist. I have just recovered from a cold, so those few blows I gave you probably didn't hurt you enough. It would be superfluous to spare you in the end."

How could it be superfluous?

Shang Jingming couldn't have asked for such leniency.

Why did His Majesty suddenly say that? And why did he call him Commander Shang? What did he do wrong?

Shang Jingming quickly knelt down again, about to beg for forgiveness, when he met His Majesty's slightly annoyed eyes.

Shang Jingming hesitated, unable to finish his sentence.

Qin Ji withdrew his hand reluctantly, with a hint of gritted teeth, "You were quite quick; I couldn't stop you."

Shang Jingming suddenly grasped the key point of His Majesty's previous words.

The key point is not that it is "unnecessary", but that "the cold has just been cured and the injury did not hurt".

"..."

His face didn't show it, but the tips of his ears turned red. Shang Jingming lowered his voice and cooperated, saying, "It hurts."

Qin Ji asked jokingly, "Does it really hurt?"

As Lingguang's junior disciple, no matter how embarrassed he was, Shang Jingming said resolutely, "It hurts."

Qin Ji narrowed his eyes. "Deceive the emperor?"

Shang Jingming kept his eyes down and his mind at ease, getting up with a "hissing" sound, every movement screaming "it really hurts."

"Jingming dared not deceive his teacher."

This level of acting is like showing off one's limited skills before an expert, or trying to teach a master swordsman how to use a large axe in front of Guan Yu.

Qin Ji scoffed lightly, teasingly saying, "Then let me see if I can personally massage your wound?"

Shang Jingming's breath hitched, and the ears of this seven-foot-tall man turned bright red. He wanted to flee, but after taking a step, he inexplicably hesitated and withdrew.

Qin Ji narrowed his eyes as he saw him looking like he wanted to leave but didn't.

You little brat... You dare to dream of having my pampered hands rub your butt!

Seeing the Emperor's expression, Shang Jingming wisely declined, saying, "Your Majesty is the supreme ruler, and I dare not overstep my bounds."

While I breathed a sigh of relief, a trace of regret inevitably lingered in my heart.

Who wouldn't want a little bit of preferential treatment?

The thought struck Shang Jingming, who was suddenly jolted awake.

He wanted to obtain what he couldn't get at home from the emperor.

His Majesty has been too good to him, which has allowed him to take advantage of the situation and lose his sense of propriety, even daring to try to get more from His Majesty.

He fantasized that at some point, he could set aside his status and, as a disciple or a family member, receive the teacher's care.

Qin Ji's gaze lingered on the tall, upright young man with downcast eyes for a while before he finally said softly, "Fortune and prosperity."

Having been invisible for half a day, Fu Lu noticed the Emperor's expression, quickly fetched the medicine for his injuries, and presented it to the Emperor.

Shang Jingming realized something, his hand under his sleeve twirling his trouser leg, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would jump out of his chest.

Qin Ji stepped into the inner room, turning to look at the tall young man standing there, unsure what to do. "What are you standing there for? Didn't you say it hurt?"

Shang Jingming was moved and said, "Your Majesty..."

Qin Ji raised an eyebrow. "What did you call me?"

Shang Jingming immediately changed his address to "Teacher".

"As your teacher, I am in charge of both killing and burying."

Qin Ji stepped aside, looking composed. "Please, Commander Shang."

...

It's not even six o'clock yet, is this five o'clock? (Feeling guilty)

Please check out this post from someone who's working on this project out of love! Double update on December 12.1st!