Chapter 179 - 124: Father: How Dare You Hurt My Son? All of You, Die!

Chapter 179: Chapter 124: Father: How Dare You Hurt My Son? All of You, Die!

In the Imperial Study.

Emperor Jianhong studied the chessboard before him. The seat across from him was empty. He reached out, picked up a white piece, and placed it on the board. Then, he walked over to the opposite side and earnestly considered where to place the black piece.

Playing a game of Go against himself might seem bizarre to others, but he was completely immersed and thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Your Majesty," a young eunuch called out softly as he slowly entered from outside the door, standing respectfully to the side.

Emperor Jianhong didn’t look up, his mind still focused on the chessboard.

The young eunuch knelt on the ground, pressing his forehead to the floor. "Ren Weizhi’s son, Ren Xueliang, has knelt outside the Eastern Palace for three hours. Seeing that the Crown Prince still would not come out, he has withdrawn."

After the eunuch finished speaking, the only sound left in the Imperial Study was the crisp snap of Emperor Jianhong placing his chess pieces. Time trickled by. The young eunuch’s legs went completely numb from kneeling. Bead-sized drops of sweat slowly slid down his forehead and splattered onto the floor, yet he didn’t dare to move a muscle.

CLACK.

Emperor Jianhong placed his final piece. He slowly looked up, his gaze profound and unreadable. "You may step down."

"Yes." Feeling as if he had just been granted amnesty, the young eunuch respectfully stood up and slowly backed out of the room.

Emperor Jianhong remained silent. Sitting in his chair, he closed his eyes and slowly murmured to himself, "The Crown Prince, Zeng Anmin... the Minister’s Mansion..."

At the Ren residence.

"Father."

Having returned home, Ren Xueliang’s face was deathly pale. Supported by a servant, he arrived before Ren Weizhi.

Ren Weizhi was nonchalantly holding a teacup. He glanced at Ren Xueliang, a faint smile slowly tugging at the corners of his lips. "How did it go?"

Ren Xueliang took a deep breath. Shaking off the servant’s support, he bowed to Ren Weizhi and slowly said, "I said everything you instructed me to. As expected, the Crown Prince refused to see me.

"To offend the Crown Prince like this... I’m afraid..." A look of profound worry surfaced on his face.

"Heh." Ren Weizhi’s smile didn’t waver in the slightest as he gently brought the teacup to his lips. He took a sip, a look of satisfaction washing over his features.

Though his voice was old, it resonated with immense power within the study, plunging the room into a heavy silence. "The battle for the throne is inherently like pulling chestnuts from the fire.

"Besides, if we want to eliminate Zeng Shilin, that single incident in Liangjiang Commandery is not enough.

"We must plant a seed of suspicion in His Majesty’s heart.

"The fact that the Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace is too close to his son, Zeng Anmin, serves perfectly as the catalyst." Finished speaking, Ren Weizhi slowly looked at Ren Xueliang, a trace of coldness seeping into his tone. "Watch closely and learn well. It will save you from taking many detours in the officialdom in the future!"

"Yes." Ren Xueliang’s expression was incomparably respectful.

The next day.

Zeng Anmin took a leave of absence from the Imperial College. He hadn’t listened to his father’s advice to ignore the matter; instead, he headed straight for Fa’an Temple. He needed to figure out exactly what was hidden inside that so-called Huangque Nunnery, and he needed to uncover the true identity of the crippled assassin who had tried to kill him.

During his life-and-death struggle with the assassin, he had learned a crucial piece of information. The assassin could only exert the strength of the Fifth Grade because he was injured. In other words, the assassin must have originally been at the Fourth Grade.

And a Fourth Grade Martial Artist—let alone in the Capital City, but even across the entire Great Saint Dynasty and the country of Nanjiang—was exceedingly rare. They were top-tier experts, revered by others as Grandmasters!

Just look at the Imperial City Department: only its Four Great Commanders were at the Fourth Grade. As for the Ten Great Directors... well, there were only nine left now. And all nine of them, much like Chi Bufan, were merely at the Fifth Grade Concealing Breath Realm.

Although Bai Ziqing called himself the Capital’s Number One Swordsman, his strength was genuinely at the Fourth Grade. Otherwise, Emperor Jianhong wouldn’t have chosen to bring him along during his tour of Jiangnan.

Such a formidable expert would undoubtedly leave behind traces in history. By following those traces, he would absolutely uncover some clues.

Zeng Anmin’s mindset differed from his father’s. After their chat yesterday, he knew his father’s intention was likely to completely crush Ren Weizhi, using this incident to deter any petty scoundrels. But Zeng Anmin didn’t see it that way. He was a petty and vindictive man. Having been assassinated, he would never be able to eat or sleep in peace if he didn’t drag the mastermind out from the shadows and kill them, too.

"Benefactor?" Confusion flickered in the young monk Yingchen’s eyes. He was in the middle of his morning chants and was clearly surprised to see Zeng Anmin.

"Amitabha." Zeng Anmin pressed his palms together and offered a Buddhist bow to Yingchen. "Master Yingchen, my respects."

Seeing Zeng Anmin being so polite, Yingchen looked somewhat flattered. He hurriedly returned the bow. Then, the little monk with the smooth, shaved head looked behind Zeng Anmin with curious anticipation. "Did Benefactor Hu not come?"

When his eyes registered that there was no one behind Zeng Anmin, a hint of disappointment dulled his gaze.

"I came specifically to find you today." Looking at young monk Yingchen’s bald head, which barely reached his armpit, Zeng Anmin simply couldn’t resist. He gently reached out and rubbed the little bald head.

PHEW.

That hit the spot.

It was so smooth, so slick... Zeng Anmin even felt that the texture was no inferior to a young girl’s B-cup headlights.

"Uh?" Feeling his bald head being rubbed, young monk Yingchen didn’t look particularly surprised. He just tilted his head up and looked at Zeng Anmin with curiosity. "You are just like Benefactor Hu. You both love rubbing this poor monk’s head."

"Hehe." Zeng Anmin flashed an incredibly innocent smile. "Could we find a place to chat?"

"Please wait a moment, let this poor monk ask my master for leave." Young monk Yingchen stood up, first offering Zeng Anmin an apologetic smile, before heading toward the old monk seated at the very center of the Great Hall.

Zeng Anmin waited patiently.

Young monk Yingchen approached the old monk and conversed with him respectfully. The old monk slowly opened his eyes and glanced over at Zeng Anmin. Zeng Anmin’s gaze happened to lock with his.

That single look felt like the convergence of ten thousand years, the shifting of seas into mulberry fields. In those eyes, Zeng Anmin saw the vicissitudes of countless eras.

He thought, "Damn! Why does this old monk feel just like Celestial Master Xu?"

Zeng Anmin’s heart pounded wildly. Despite it being only a brief meeting of the eyes, he could distinctly sense that the old monk possessed unfathomable depths.

"Hehe." He grinned widely, flashing his pearly white teeth at the old monk in a completely harmless smile.

A hint of amusement surfaced in the old monk’s eyes. Then, he nodded at young monk Yingchen.

Young monk Yingchen’s eyes visibly lit up with joy. His returning steps were brisk and light. If they hadn’t been inside the Great Hall, Yingchen probably would have leaped into the air. "My master has agreed. Benefactor, if you please..." Yingchen’s smile was incredibly pure, his eyes brimming with mirth.

"After you."

After stepping out of the Great Hall, the two leisurely strolled through the temple grounds.

"I wonder what Benefactor wishes to ask this poor monk?" Having left the Great Hall, Yingchen no longer suppressed his natural disposition. Though his small, thin body looked frail, he radiated an innocent and boundless exuberance.

Zeng Anmin was in no rush. He merely smiled softly and looked at Yingchen. "How long have you been a monk?"

Hearing this, Yingchen blinked, then shyly scratched his head. "This poor monk has been in the temple for as long as I can remember."

"Oh?" Zeng Anmin stroked his chin, observing Yingchen. "So, you took your vows as a chaste boy..."

Yingchen didn’t quite understand Zeng Anmin’s words. His pure face revealed a trace of confusion. "What is a chaste boy?"

"Never mind. The great master in the hall just now, is he your master? Is he the Abbot of Fa’an Temple?"

Yingchen smiled and shook his head. "My master is just a Sweeping Monk. How could he compare to the Abbot?"

Zeng Anmin stared blankly. After a long pause, he nodded thoughtfully. He wondered, "Does this mean he’s a hidden expert at the level of a Sweeping Monk?"

"There is indeed something I need to ask you today." Chuckling, Zeng Anmin fished a piece of candy from his robes and offered it to Yingchen. "Want a taste? This is good stuff!" His voice was practically dripping with temptation.

Yingchen merely chuckled softly. Without taking the candy, he offered Zeng Anmin a Buddhist bow. "Thank you for your kindness, Benefactor. Please feel free to ask whatever you wish, but this poor monk naturally cannot accept any gifts."