Governing the country, enriching the people, an unparalleled imperial tutor

As the morning light of Xuan Shuo peeked through the cracks in the windows of the side hall, Lin Yanzhou was just recovering from a long fall.

The travel bag pressed heavily against his chest, and his phone, still warm through the fabric lining, seemed to have just escaped the hustle and bustle of modern life. The scent of sandalwood filled his nostrils, and an ancient and familiar tranquility enveloped him—the dusty floor tiles in the side hall, the dilapidated carvings on the wooden beams, everything was exactly as he had left it.

It should be morning, haha, I've just returned to ancient times! Little emperor, princess, I'm back! For some reason, I've gotten used to calling myself "I" since I'm back in ancient times. After a couple of seconds of excitement, he immediately sensed something was wrong.

It was too quiet. Outside the palace walls, there were no soft footsteps or hushed conversations typical of the morning court session; instead, there was a stifling, tense silence. Even the wind chimes on the eaves were still, as if the entire palace was holding its breath.

Lin Yanzhou pushed his travel bag to the foot of the bed, got up, walked to the palace entrance, and listened for a moment. In the distance, he could faintly hear the sound of armor clashing, rapid and irregular—the rhythm of footsteps during preparations for battle, not the sound of daily patrols.

He pushed open the door.

The guard at the door was startled, as if he hadn't expected anyone to come out of this side hall that had been empty for three months. The guard was about twenty years old, with a layer of stubble on his face and a fresh scratch on the scabbard at his waist.

"The...the Imperial Preceptor?" The guard's voice was strained, as if he had seen a savior but couldn't quite believe it. "You've finally come out!"

"What happened?"

"The northern border—" The guard swallowed hard. "Zhang Lin secretly ordered his henchmen to rebel against the border troops, colluding with various nomadic tribes in the north. They claim to have a coalition of 300,000 men, and have already crossed 300 li north of Yanmen Pass. Three border cities along the way surrendered without a fight. He proclaimed to the world before the battle that His Majesty is young and incompetent, and that he has been corrupted by treacherous officials, forcing His Majesty to abdicate. Otherwise, he threatened to march south and massacre the capital."

Lin Yanzhou's expression didn't change much, but the lingering warmth from the mineral crystal between his brows completely dissipated at that moment. It turned out that the entire day's traction was just to ensure he returned at this crucial juncture.

"Where is the eldest princess?"

"The princess—" The guard paused, "three days ago, she led 20,000 newly formed elite imperial guards north to meet the enemy. Before leaving, she ordered men to guard this side hall day and night, saying that the Imperial Preceptor had not returned from his pilgrimage, and no one was allowed to enter without permission."

Lin Yanzhou closed his eyes briefly. Zhao Lingxi. When she left, he was still in the kitchen that morning in the modern world, eating noodles cooked by Lin Xiaoya, and playing with the astronaut robot with Lin Xiaozhou. He didn't know she had already led her troops into battle, and there wasn't even a farewell before her departure.

"What's the battle report?"

"News arrived yesterday that the princess's vanguard encountered the rebels at Qing Shi Ridge. After a day and night of fierce fighting, the rebel vanguard was repelled, but the princess—" The guard's voice lowered slightly, "...the princess, while leading her personal guards in a charge, was struck by an arrow and fell from her horse. She suffered a penetrating wound to her left shoulder and a graze to her right rib from a stray arrow. The army doctor only said the bleeding had stopped, but the arrowhead remained embedded in her flesh and they dared not remove it. The main army has retreated a hundred li and is now defending Jizhou City. Before the princess lost consciousness, she ordered a messenger to report back to the capital on horseback."

Lin Yanzhou clenched his fist, then relaxed it: "Where is His Majesty?"

"His Majesty has been in the Zichen Hall for three days without attending court, devoting himself to discussions with Vice Minister Zhou and Minister of War Shen. The ministers are divided into two factions: some advocate moving the capital south, while others advocate defending the capital to the death. His Majesty has not expressed his opinion, only saying to wait."

"wait for me?"

"Wait for the Imperial Advisor to return," the guard said. "His Majesty's exact words were: 'Without the Imperial Advisor, I will not move.'"

Lin Yanzhou remained silent for a moment. The young emperor still had his own opinions. Well done.

He turned back into the hall, picked up his travel bag, and placed it on the corner of the bed. The zipper of the travel bag was not unzipped; the contents were not urgent for now—the priority was to first understand the overall situation of the battle.

He washed his face in a basin of water in the corner of the side hall. The icy well water completely woke him up, and then he pushed open the door and went out.

The Zichen Hall was much larger than the side hall. Its doors were tightly shut, and two rows of guards stood in the corridor, each with a tense expression on their face, as if their tension was about to burst. When Lin Yanzhou appeared at the bottom of the steps, a very slight commotion arose in the ranks, as if to say: "The immortal has finally returned."

The palace doors were pushed open from the inside, and Zhou Yan hurried out to greet him, his official robe collar askew, as if he hadn't slept for three days. When he saw Lin Yanzhou, his eyes immediately reddened.

"Grand Preceptor! You're finally back!" Zhou Yan's voice was hoarse. "The Princess is seriously injured, the rebel army is pressing in, the court has been in turmoil for three days, and someone has already secretly contacted Zhang Lin's residence—"

Who are they?

Zhou Yan stepped closer and whispered a few names. Lin Yanzhou listened as he entered the hall. Emperor Jinghe, Zhao Yan, stood up from his dragon throne. The young man's face was thinner than three months ago, and the lines of his jaw were more defined, but his back was very straight and he did not slump.

"Sir, I have finally waited for you." He only said two words, his voice was steady, but the anxiety in his eyes seemed to finally fall away the moment he saw Lin Yanzhou.

Lin Yanzhou walked into the hall and looked around. Several ministers stood on either side, some with solemn expressions, others with evasive eyes. His gaze swept over two of them—Liu Zhang, the Vice Minister of Revenue, and Zhao Huai Ren, the Secretary of the Ministry of Rites—his mind-reading ability silently activated, and their thoughts were laid out before him like an open ledger.

Liu Zhang thought to himself: "The Eldest Princess has been defeated, and the capital is in imminent danger. If I don't surrender to Zhang Lin now, my whole family will die when the rebels enter the city. This immortal is good at manipulating grain prices and political maneuvering, but he might not be so good at real fighting!"

Zhao Huai-ren thought: The letter I sent out last night should have arrived by now. Prime Minister Zhang said that as long as there is cooperation from within and without, my official position will remain unchanged...

Lin Yanzhou calmly withdrew his gaze and turned to Zhao Yan, saying, "Your Majesty, how is the Princess's condition after retreating to Jizhou? Has there been a detailed report?"

Zhao Yan nodded, took a blood-stained silk scroll from the imperial desk, and personally descended the steps to hand it to him. Lin Yanzhou unfolded it and read it; the letter was written by Zhao Lingxi himself, the handwriting much more hasty than usual—

Your Majesty, please write:

In the Battle of Qingshiling, the rebel vanguard of 20,000 was routed, but the main force remained intact. Zhang Lin personally led the remaining rebel forces to garrison outside Pingyang City and held an alliance with the Khans of the three northern tribes. Scouts reported that the rebels numbered nearly 300,000, a formidable force. I led the Imperial Guards to retreat to Jizhou, where we can temporarily defend the city, but the city's food supplies are insufficient for ten days, and more than half of our military equipment has been lost.

I have been struck in the left shoulder by an arrow, the arrowhead lodged in the bone. The military officers dare not remove it lightly, for fear of damaging my tendons and veins. However, military affairs are urgent, and I can still hold on. Your Majesty need not worry too much.

I will wait for the Imperial Advisor until the very end. If the Imperial Advisor emerges from seclusion, please tell him: Do not keep us waiting too long.

The ink at the end of the letter had been smudged by a small patch of water, it was hard to tell whether it was rainwater or blood.

After reading it, Lin Yanzhou folded the silk scroll and returned it to Zhao Yan, speaking in a neither loud nor soft voice: "Your Majesty, I have a request."

"Sir, please speak."

"Your Majesty, please issue an edict ordering the Imperial Medical Academy to immediately dispatch personnel with all available medical supplies to Jizhou. The princess's injury cannot be delayed any longer. The army doctors dare not remove the arrowhead for fear of damaging her tendons—but if it is not removed, infection will be even more dangerous."

He paused, then said, "This immortal possesses his own magical arts and is willing to accompany the imperial physician."

The hall fell silent. Zhou Yan was about to speak, "The Imperial Preceptor should not venture into dangerous territory lightly," when Lin Yanzhou raised his hand to stop him.

"Without the strategist on the front lines, how can we know where the next move will be?" He looked at Zhao Yan. "Your Majesty, I only need three days. Within three days, I will heal the princess, stabilize the situation, and give you an explanation."

Zhao Yan looked at him, a quiet trust beyond his years in the young emperor's eyes: "Very well. I grant your permission. Go, sir; I will wait for you in the capital."

The ministers in the hall exchanged glances, none of them uttering a word of objection. As Lin Yanzhou turned and walked out of the Zichen Hall, the gaze behind him followed him until he stepped across the threshold—it was Zhao Yan's gaze, heavy and weighty, as if he were placing an entire empire on one person's shoulders.

Lin Yanzhou did not turn around.

When he stepped out of the palace gates, the sky was already bathed in sunlight. A dark line of clouds stretched across the northern horizon, like another battlefield waiting to be opened.

He mentally reviewed the phone in his pocket, the medical supplies in his backpack, and the emergency information Lin Xiaoya, trained in modern medicine and who had slept soundly in his arms the night before, had given him. Although he hadn't formally studied medicine, his phone contained a complete manual for first aid of external injuries and antibiotic regimens. He knew the steps for removing an arrowhead embedded in his scapula, the procedure for cleaning and suturing the wound, and the dosage and administration of postoperative antibiotics.

In Xuan Shuo, these are enough to save a person's life.

He quickened his pace and headed towards the Imperial Hospital.