Chapter 7: Gentle as Jade — Is this behavior called “shipping,” or “hardcore…”
As Sweet Tub’s warning faded, Ying Xi discovered that the “Return to Base” icon, which should have displayed its normal color, had turned a dull grey.
Touching the icon multiple times yielded no effect. Ying Xi furrowed his brow and asked Sweet Tub the reason for the anomaly.
Sweet Tub replied, “It’s nothing, you’re just too tired. Your stamina isn’t sufficient.”
“……”
Sweet Tub explained, “Stamina is a key metric in most dating games. To maintain user experience, stickiness, and freshness, ‘Return to Base’ is a restricted function.”
Ying Xi asked, “Restricted by my physical condition?”
“Yes,” Sweet Tub continued, “It can also be limited by mental state. For example, Your Majesty cannot return to base when your thoughts are chaotic.”
Ying Xi made a mental note of this.
Of course, there weren’t many occasions that could exhaust him to the point of collapse or throw his emotions off balance.
Ying Xi couldn’t return to Weiyang Palace quickly.
The lingering light of the setting sun slanted across the Secret Archives, casting a red glow on the water surface, where shimmering crimson reflections danced everywhere.
Having stood outside the main gate of the Secret Archives for too long, and being all alone, Ying Xi’s behavior appeared slightly suspicious despite his upright demeanor—especially since today was an important day for inspecting the secret files.
Standing at the other end of the drawbridge, a Director of the Secret Archives, hands clasped behind his back, spotted someone lingering in the distance.
The Director suddenly shouted in anger, “—Who is peeking over there!?”
The end-of-month inventory of secret files was the most headache-inducing official duty for the entire Secret Archives.
Imperial edicts and court memorials were sealed here; updated local data reported from various regions was consolidated here. Which should be encrypted, which could be declassified, which must be thoroughly destroyed…
There was too much work and too few people, and the immediate superior was useless. The Director had pent-up anger with nowhere to vent, resulting in a ring of blisters around his mouth.
Several scribes hurriedly tried to appease him: “Please quell your anger, my Lord. This subordinate will go take a look right now!”
The scribes put down the documents they were about to move indoors, preparing to cross the bridge and chase the person away.
Behind the scribes, the Director breathed heavily through his nostrils, straightening his robes and dusting off nonexistent dirt. “Hold on! This official will go personally to see who has eaten a bear’s heart and a leopard’s gall to dare pry into the Secret Archives!”
The Director and the scribes stormed across the drawbridge aggressively.
At the other end of the drawbridge, they saw a young man within the Imperial Palace wearing ordinary clothes.
Their gazes met. The young man had a slender figure and snow-white skin; one look and you could tell he lived a life of luxury. Seeing them rushing over in a dark mass, he showed not a hint of timidity; instead, he slightly raised his chin, displaying the posture of a superior.
The Director instantly couldn’t gauge the other’s background and felt a twinge of guilt.
The Director stopped his steps, standing still a dozen paces away from Ying Xi. He opened his mouth, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
One had to know that the highest person in charge of the Secret Archives, the Secret Archives Supervisor He Xuan, was only a fourth-rank official. The Director was several ranks lower than the Supervisor.
When the new Emperor ascended the throne and the officials paid homage to the Son of Heaven, the Directors were not qualified to attend. They didn’t recognize Ying Xi, and naturally, they wouldn’t imagine that Ying Xi would personally come to this place, the most “clean water government office” (a poorly funded office with no opportunities for graft) in Great Qin.
Oppressed by the aura, the Director felt he should speak first.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, stared at by Ying Xi, he felt his throat tighten. “This… Young Master is…”
The Director’s eyes darted around, sizing up Ying Xi while silently making connections to his superior, the Secret Archives Supervisor’s network.
Among all the big shots he could think of, he chose the most plausible one.
It was the VIP of the Secret Archives, the current First-Rank Imperial Tutor, Zhu Zhao.
—Was this young man related to the Imperial Tutor?
—Was he a newcomer to officialdom accompanying the Imperial Tutor to the Secret Archives to consult materials and receive guidance?
Numerous speculations swirled rapidly in the Director’s mind.
A gust of evening breeze accompanied the setting sun.
The wind rose suddenly, wrinkling the spring waters of the lake. Around the island of the Secret Archives, red reflections on the water moved rhythmically in the direction of the wind. People involuntarily looked toward where the wind came from.
A man in light robes with a loose sash, wearing a warm smile and eyes slightly curved, was walking toward the Secret Archives at a steady pace.
This person was not wearing an official uniform. Because of his esteemed status and his holding of an extremely noble yet idle position, he was born with an air of gentle warmth. His hair color was slightly light, bound properly and uprightly with a jade crown.
Having just walked to within a few dozen paces of the Director, the Director recognized this person. Speak of Cao Cao and Cao Cao arrives; who else could it be but the Imperial Tutor?
The Director took a deep look at the young man, gritted his teeth hesitantly, and then hurriedly jogged over to welcome the highest-ranking official he had ever hosted in his life.
The Director and the scribes bowed deeply with clasped hands.
Their voices were uniform, as if they had practiced countless times: “The late-borns pay respects to the Imperial Tutor. The Imperial Tutor’s teachings flow long; we benefit immensely.”
Zhu Zhao smiled, his gaze resting only fleetingly on them for an instant. Immediately, a pair of affectionate eyes focused completely on Ying Xi, and then he performed an even more solemn bow toward Ying Xi.
Zhu Zhao’s action left the Director and all the scribes present dumbfounded!
Zhu Zhao showed respect first; Ying Xi should return the courtesy after.
But Ying Xi held the supreme status. He only needed to nod and bow slightly, returning a standard half-courtesy: “Student greets Teacher.”
Zhu Zhao was the Imperial Tutor.
The Imperial Tutor’s student, who also called him Teacher—moreover, the master and disciple shared identical elegant demeanors.
Silence in the Secret Archives spoke louder than words.
The Director and the others felt a massive shock in their hearts. They quickly exchanged glances and closed their eyes.
This young man was naturally—
Uh…
The Emperor.
Secret Archives Supervisor He Xuan practically flew off the drawbridge to welcome the Emperor!
Fearing that if he flew any slower, his head would fall.
Behind He Xuan, the Secret Archives Internal Historian, the Secret Archives Assistant, the Directors, and the scribes crossed the drawbridge sequentially according to rank, arranging themselves densely before Ying Xi.
Immediately following was the deafening shout of “Long Live the Emperor.”
The Qin Palace was vast. The Emperor had the Department of State Affairs and various ministries to deal with every day. The times were difficult, and he managed ten thousand matters a day; theoretically, he shouldn’t have time to visit the Secret Archives.
However, it was precisely the unexpected exception that made this trip particularly special.
He Xuan was originally a good-for-nothing second-generation ancestor in his family. He was pushed up to the Secret Archives to manage files and had absolutely no status within his clan.
This time, not only could he brag that his little temple frequently hosted the Imperial Tutor, but from now on he could also brag that he had hosted the Emperor. He felt this gave him immense face.
Therefore, He Xuan treated this pair of teacher and student with one hundred and twenty percent caution.
He Xuan waved his hand, and the people of the Secret Archives split into two columns, kneeling in welcome.
Footsteps tapping across the drawbridge sounded ethereal and crisp. Ying Xi walked into the interior of the ring island. Everywhere were continuous storehouses arranged by zone. Between the storehouses, sufficiently wide aisles were left, all paved with brick and stone, without any flowers, trees, or weeds.
“Your… Your Majesty, please. Imperial Tutor, please as well.”
The Emperor in front, the Imperial Tutor to the right and behind; He Xuan followed fawningly.
By rights, since Ying Xi already knew he couldn’t use the “Return to Base” function at the moment, he shouldn’t stay long at the Secret Archives.
But having just been discovered by the Secret Archives Director, coincidentally bumping into Zhu Zhao, and being welcomed by He Xuan as if inviting a god, he had to enter the Secret Archives for an inspection no matter what.
Ying Xi looked at the sky. Fine, he would rest here for a while to recover his stamina, and return to Weiyang Palace once he had adjusted.
“The Secret… Secret Archives holds a total of… approximately two hundred thousand volumes of various secret files, books, and booklets,” He Xuan introduced.
He Xuan stammered, finding the professional aspect very difficult. Anxious to perform, his tongue got tied instead: “A-Among them, edicts of past emperors, court memorials, and local documents occupy the majority. There are also important materials such as maps of various regions, military registers, and household registers.”
He Xuan led Ying Xi into the main hall.
The main hall of the Secret Archives was very small. The Emperor and the Imperial Tutor took their seats according to rank.
Unable to recite any further from memory, He Xuan found his voice and struggled to phrase his next words: “These archives are stored in different storehouses and strictly categorized. Your Majesty, this is to facilitate consultation and management, ensuring that every file can be found quickly when needed.”
He Xuan breathed a sigh of relief in secret, thinking that this paragraph just now was long and eloquent, and his performance was passable.
But who would have known that precisely because his phrasing was acceptable, it sparked the Emperor’s interest in conversation.
Ying Xi inquired, “How does one quickly find a file?”
“……” Uh. He Xuan was struck dumb.
This Secret Archives Supervisor was extremely incompetent. On ordinary days, he would only sip tea and stare at the sky in his office, buying tabloids to read storybooks or gossip.
The end-of-month file inventory at the Secret Archives was always painstakingly completed by the clerks under him. He rarely asked about it, and naturally couldn’t withstand being interrogated on operations by the Emperor.
He Xuan’s heart hung high in the ninth heaven. Seeing Ying Xi take a breath, he felt that once this breath was exhaled, he would be finished.
Fortunately, Zhu Zhao took over the conversation naturally: “First, lock down the area based on the content being searched.”
“The Nine Provinces of the world are sequenced using the Thousand Character Classic—’Tian’ (Heaven) represents the Imperial City Chang’an. Adjacent to Chang’an, ‘Di’ (Earth) represents Yongzhou, ‘Xuan’ (Dark/Mysterious) is Bingzhou, ‘Huang’ (Yellow) is Yizhou, and so on.”
“Within each province, the commanderies are numbered from north to south.”
“Find the corresponding storehouse according to the number. The archives are arranged by year from recent to distant.”
After Zhu Zhao finished speaking, He Xuan hurriedly cast a look at him like a biological son looking at his reborn parents.
He Xuan repeatedly said yes.
Ying Xi increased the difficulty of the question: “What if the year is unclear?”
“Before entering the archives, Secret Archives Directors skilled in mnemonics have browsed these materials. By inquiring with a Secret Archives Director, one can narrow the search range and find it.”
“How do you prevent the Directors from leaking secrets?”
“The Directors may not leave the palace. Their direct relatives receive court subsidies. After leaving office, they are sequestered for a year and may only return home after being declassified,” Zhu Zhao said.
Sweet Tub: “So miserable.”
Ying Xi was stung by the sudden voice of Sweet Tub. Still thinking about the classified matters, the center of his brows twitched.
Whenever the Emperor was silent, He Xuan was scared to death. Seeing him frown just now, He Xuan spinelessly slid to his knees: “Your Majesty, forgive me! This subject’s hospitality was lacking!”
Sweet Tub: “He’s so funny.”
Neither the straw bag in front of him nor the young girl in his head gave him any peace of mind.
Ying Xi waved his hand to resolve both ends: “You go out first; I will walk around casually with the Imperial Tutor.” The Emperor also had to respect his teacher and the path of learning; Ying Xi couldn’t chase his own teacher away. He Xuan scrambled away as if granted a great pardon.
Then he whispered to Sweet Tub: “No nonsense.”
“Mhm-hm!”
With the idlers gone, the main hall of the Secret Archives instantly became quiet.
Ying Xi rose from his seat, and Zhu Zhao stood up as well.
Just then, a draft blew through the hall. Ying Xi coughed lightly. Zhu Zhao walked behind Ying Xi and placed a warm stone he had heated in his sleeve into Ying Xi’s hand.
Ying Xi’s fingertips were stiff and cold. The warm stone was the size of a chicken egg, slowly releasing heat.
Zhu Zhao said gently, “The Secret Archives is full of paper; charcoal cannot be burned, and not even a spark is allowed. Your Majesty, use this warm stone to warm your hands first.”
Zhu Zhao leaned in close. His voice was elegant, mellow, and magnetic, his personality also seeming just like the warm stone.
But Ying Xi pretended to inadvertently take a half-step back.
The distance between the two opened up again, returning to a proximity that was neither far nor near.
Zhu Zhao was imperceptibly puzzled.
In the past, although Ying Xi didn’t obey anyone completely, he would at least trust his teacher more than ordinary people.
Zhu Zhao’s heartstrings were plucked, a strand of his mind tightening secretly.
The System, however, screamed uncontrollably in Ying Xi’s ear: “Ahhh, gentle wife-material attacker (Gong)!!! Your Majesty, Teacher treats you so well!!!”
Sweet Tub’s voice rippled, expressing excitement through sound. If one were to use Sweet Tub’s lingo, this behavior was called “shipping,” or rather, “hardcore shipping.”
But Ying Xi had no intention of shipping along with it.
Ying Xi’s tone wasn’t warmed by the stone; instead, it grew colder. Wanting to dispel Sweet Tub’s fantasy, his tone sank, grim as ice:
“He is not treating me well,” Ying Xi said indifferently. “He has a guilty conscience and is covering for himself.”
Sweet Tub was stunned: “Huh!?”
Recommended Reads
