What?

Burn the whip?

But that was bestowed by the Emperor!

No, no, absolutely not!

Ji Shuhan shot to his feet, quickly bending at the waist, his complexion twisted and livid: “Prince Rong, this whip was bestowed by the Emperor—it cannot be burned!”

“Then this prince would like to ask, when this whip was bestowed upon you, what was it meant for?”

“This…”

The Emperor didn’t say!

Expression tense, Ji Shuhan continued: “Please, Prince Rong, show mercy. If Prince Rong finds this whip has a bloody smell, this humble official will certainly take proper care of it, but I beg Prince Rong not to burn this whip.”

Little something, I just love seeing you beg me!

But at present, Jingrong was burning with anger, those cold, clear eyes fixed on Ji Shuhan’s body, extremely fierce.

Raising his hand, his words were decisive: “Hurry up and burn it!”

Without a trace of hesitation or sympathy!

Lang Bo was very obedient. Taking the whip outside the hall, he pulled a fire striker from his waist, blew on it, and moved it toward the whip.

Not knowing if this rough man Lang Bo wanted to tease Ji Shuhan, the fire striker hovered at the lower end of the whip without lighting it for quite a while.

As if still waiting for Jingrong’s final command!

Only a “thud” was heard.

Ji Shuhan had knelt down.

Both hands pressed on the ground, his whole body prostrating, begging desperately: “This cannot be done, Prince Rong! This humble official begs you—you absolutely cannot burn this whip! I beg you, this whip was bestowed by the Emperor. If it’s burned, this humble official cannot bear the responsibility! I beg you, Prince Rong, it truly cannot be burned!”

Weren’t you a wolf or jackal?

How did you learn from the county magistrate and develop the bad habit of kneeling to others?

Jingrong’s lips curved slightly upward. Unhurriedly holding that teacup, he took a small sip, looking at Ji Shuhan kneeling on the ground: “Minister Ji, for a mere whip, you kneel before this prince. It’s really not worth it. You should get up.”

But his body prostrated even lower, begging pitifully: “Please, Prince Rong, do not burn this whip. Otherwise, this humble official will remain kneeling.”

Remain kneeling?

Mm!

“Fine, then you just keep kneeling.” Jingrong snapped his fingers at Lang Bo: “Why aren’t you acting?”

“Yes.” Lang Bo acknowledged.

The fire striker moved to the lower end of the whip. First it emitted a few wisps of blue smoke, giving off a pungent burning smell, then it caught fire.

Lang Bo casually tossed the whip on the ground. The whip curled into a ball, surrounded by flames.

As soon as Ji Shuhan smelled it, he raised his head and looked back. His precious whip had caught fire, changing from its original golden color to dark, dark black.

Then, with a face full of pain, he clenched his fist and pounded it fiercely on the ground.

My treasure!

Seeing that old fellow’s expression of unbearable pain, Jingrong still didn’t seem satisfied.

Standing up, he walked around Ji Shuhan on the ground, stepped under the eaves, and with his back turned, called out “Minister Ji.”

Ji Shuhan hung his head, looking thoroughly dejected. Sighing, he still responded: “This humble official is here.”

“This prince has heard that in Jinjiang City there’s a temple that enshrines a very efficacious Bodhisattva. It seems to be called Qing’an Temple, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Since Minister Ji places such importance on items bestowed by my imperial father, you must be loyal to my imperial father, correct?”

“Correct.” He sighed.

Jingrong smiled deeply again: “Very good. This prince has heard people say that if one walks up to Qing’an Temple on foot, prostrating with each step, sincerely and wholeheartedly, and upon reaching the temple seeks blessings, it will naturally be efficacious. Is this correct?”

“Correct.” He sighed again.

Jingrong slowly turned around, looking down at him: “Good. My imperial father’s birthday is approaching, so I’ll have to trouble Minister Ji to prostrate with each step up to that Qing’an Temple to pray for my imperial father’s blessings. I presume Minister Ji would not refuse, would he?”

Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine stone steps, prostrating with each step!

Even just walking up would take a full day, let alone prostrating all the way up.

Jingrong, are you sure you’re not a demon summoned by a monkey?

Ji Shuhan was truly frightened. He hadn’t even recovered from the shock of the whip being burned when this even greater blow arrived. Unable to catch his breath, his eyes widened.

He nearly fainted.

His face deathly pale!

Seeing his prolonged silence, fire rose in Jingrong’s eyes, his tone becoming heavier: “What? You’re unwilling?”

“No, no, this humble official… this humble official is willing!”

This humble official is unwilling!

Jingrong nodded, offering him a gentle smile: “Very good. This prince will also send someone to accompany Minister Ji to ensure not a single step or prostration is missed—that would be unfortunate.”

“Thank… thank you, Prince Rong.”

Ji Shuhan trembled violently!

This disguised surveillance was truly perverse.

Jingrong was thoroughly satisfied, the fire in his heart reduced by half.

Let you bully this prince’s little scholar, let you beat this prince’s little Yunshu—you really needed to be taught a lesson!

Finally, Jingrong left with Lang Bo, completely satisfied.

Leaving behind Ji Shuhan still kneeling on the ground, his complexion extremely ugly.

Just who had summoned that Buddha?

Luan’er, who had witnessed the entire process, felt inexplicably delighted.

That honored guest from the capital was actually Prince Rong!

Moreover, teaching the master such a lesson truly vented anger on behalf of her own miss.

So she happily returned to the West Courtyard and told Ji Yunshu this good news.

Ji Yunshu was painting. Listening to Luan’er’s joyful report, which was told with such vivid detail!

“Miss, you didn’t see it—the master’s face kept turning from livid to pale! That Prince Rong is truly formidable. The things he said, the things he did—simply eye-opening.”

Luan’er wore an infatuated expression, truly extremely adorable.

Ji Yunshu continued painting, her demeanor composed, completely unaffected by Luan’er.

Only after finishing the last stroke did she lift the golden phoenix brush, rinsed it in water, and placed it in the sandalwood box.

Only then did she raise her eyes to glance at Luan’er: “He’s left?”

Her tone was light!

“Left, just now.”

“Mm.”

Ji Yunshu calmly rolled up the painting she’d just finished and tied it with a red cord.

Luan’er was puzzled: “Miss, how is it you don’t seem interested at all? That was Prince Rong—he just taught the master a lesson.”

She had heard it, heard it all—no need to repeat it a second time!

“Alright, I know everything you’ve said.”

She walked around the desk into the inner room. When she emerged, she had already changed into men’s clothing.

“Miss, where are you going?” Luan’er was extremely anxious. Her young miss’s back wound still hadn’t healed—she had to stop her.

“Going to the prison.” After speaking, she added another sentence: “You come along too.”

Without allowing Luan’er to say anything more, Ji Yunshu took the painting and went out the door. Luan’er followed.

The two arrived outside the prison. The jailer who had previously received three taels of silver from Ji Yunshu came forward: “Master Ji, why have you come again?”

“Take me to see Lin Duan.”

“Right away.”

The jailer agreed without further questions and led her inside.

The prison was still gloomy and dark, unbearably damp.

Luan’er covered her nose with her hand, frowning. This was her first time entering.

But Ji Yunshu’s expression remained calm, without the slightest hint of disgust.