“Reporting to Your Majesty: the Second Prince has had a persistent high fever since yesterday. Today it’s grown extremely serious. Consort Yun has no idea what to do—she’s so anxious she’s already fainted twice. Your Majesty, please go and see him!”
The young eunuch spoke urgently. From the panic in his voice, it sounded as if the Second Prince might pass away at any moment.
The Second Prince, named Xianlong, had always been Xianrang’s most beloved child. You could tell just from his name—long, pronounced the same as “dragon.” Xianrang didn’t have time to think further. Without saying another word, he strode off immediately.
Mayuan hurried after him.
It was clear that no matter how much special concern Xianrang had shown toward Xianmo, Xianlong’s place in his heart remained unshakable.
Fengguang muttered dryly, “If a son’s sick, shouldn’t they call the imperial physicians? What’s the old emperor supposed to do?”
“The Second Prince is ill, yet Consort Yun isn’t rushing to summon the physicians and instead hurries to find His Majesty. How interesting.” Zou He stroked his chin, smiling with a seductive edge.
Fengguang froze in shock and didn’t dare make a sound for quite a while.
Xianmo looked calmly at Zou He and said expressionlessly, “Imperial Preceptor, the wind is strong. Be careful not to catch a chill.”
Zou He paused. He was dressed in loose robes with a wide-open collar that exposed most of his chest. Then his smile grew even brighter. “Thank you for Your Highness’s concern. I’ve always been in excellent health.”
Lan Zhao let out a quiet scoff but said nothing.
“General Lan, it seems you agree with me.” Zou He tossed him a flirtatious glance, full of charm.
Lan Zhao ignored him and turned to Xianmo instead. His stern expression softened considerably. “Your Highness, martial training is very hard. But if you are to take the field and fight the enemy, then you must learn. Only then can you protect yourself—and the soldiers under your command.”
Fengguang happily added by Xianmo’s ear, “And it’ll make you stronger and healthier, too.”
Xianmo’s brows relaxed. “I will study diligently.”
“Then we’ll begin tomorrow. Every day at the Hour of Mao, Your Highness must come to the training grounds. I’ll start by teaching you foundational skills. Can you do that?”
“Wait—Mao Hour is way too early!” Fengguang protested. “It’s not even daylight yet!”
Mao Hour was five in the morning.
Xianmo was still a child. He needed enough rest to grow.
The twelve-year-old boy didn’t look at Fengguang. He said firmly, “I can do it.”
No matter how many objections Fengguang had, she couldn’t say anything more.
Xianrang had arranged for Lan Zhao to teach Xianmo martial arts for one reason only: the prophecy Zou He had once spoken—Xianmo would become this nation’s God of War. And how could a God of War not know martial arts?
But Xianrang had no intention of letting Xianmo study statecraft. The tutor he found for him was merely an ordinary teacher of reading and writing, and even one recruited from outside the court. His intentions were painfully obvious.
In Xianrang’s heart, Xianmo would be nothing more than a soldier who protected the nation. He had not been given a ticket to the Eastern Palace. It could even be said that he wasn’t qualified to go anywhere near it.
Fengguang understood this clearly. She pitied Xianmo, so she didn’t say much to him about it. Over the following days, she simply watched the boy wake before dawn and return to Yihe Palace so exhausted that he fell asleep the moment he lay down.
The only thing she could really do for him was chase away the cicadas and the insects in the grass that made noise while he slept.
Ordinary people couldn’t see her.
But animals were different.
Sena Rachma On [QTC] MBDT Chapter 1085