TFRLTOP Chapter 64 Part 2

The moment he released, she felt the weight.

Oh no…

The arrow’s tail pressed against the bowstring, ready to draw as before—but the string didn’t budge.

She tried pulling again. Still nothing.

Ming Ming: “…”

She summoned all her strength, managing to pull it just a little.

Emperor Wan Qian chuckled low in his throat and quickly took over her hands before she completely exhausted herself. He drew the bow and released the arrow.

“Be careful, don’t let the string snap back on your hand. If it hits you, it’ll sting for days.”

Ming Ming pouted in dissatisfaction. Wan Qian stopped the horse and had a small bow brought over. “Use this one. You can draw it fully without worry.”

Ming Ming dove into the fun. She didn’t even try stationary target practice—she immediately started horseback archery, what they’d call “running before learning to walk.” But it didn’t matter; even if she missed, she was having a blast.

Seeing that she was genuinely just playing and paying no attention to anything else, Wan Qian sighed, pinched her arm gently, and took the reins. “Alright, that’s enough for today.”

“Why? I haven’t had enough!” Ming Ming urged, squeezing the horse’s sides to keep it moving. Wan Qian carefully controlled the direction and said, “Since it’s your first time, if you play too long today, your arms will be useless tomorrow.”

Ming Ming still looked a bit unhappy. Wan Qian leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Maybe you won’t even make it to tomorrow—by tonight, your arms will be too sore to even hold onto me…”

!!!

Ming Ming’s hair instantly stood on end, and she spun to glare at him.

Wan Qian smirked, threading his hands around her waist to take hold of the reins in front, circling the training grounds with her.

“What are you doing?” Ming Ming asked, confused.

He pointed into the distance. “See that? From that angle, you can overlook the entire training ground.”

Ming Ming: ?

He then pointed in another direction. “There’s a mound hidden in the grass along the wall. If concealed, no one could detect a weakness there.”

Then he went on to point out several other spots that might pose safety risks.

Ming Ming’s head was full of question marks. “Why are you telling me this? Tell your palace staff! I can’t fix it.”

Wan Qian looked at her helplessly.

“Are you really this stupid, or just pretending?”

Ming Ming: …Wait, now he’s changing the subject and insulting me?

“You’re the stupid one!”

Wan Qian sighed. “Don’t you realize, I’m teaching you?”

Ming Ming stared at him blankly. “Aren’t you teaching me archery? What does this have to do with anything?”

“You, how can you not understand anything?” Wan Qian shook his head. “I’m teaching you how to spot vulnerabilities hidden in every corner of the palace. They let you wander around so you can investigate these things, right?”

Ming Ming: Huh???

“…What are you imagining?” She looked at him speechlessly. “If you’re sick, remember to take your medicine! Don’t give up treatment, Your Majesty!”

“Speaking of medicine,” Wan Qian suddenly hugged her tighter and lightly nibbled her earlobe, “When will my beloved allow me to stop taking it?”

“Give me a crown prince,” she said.

“No way!” Ming Ming glared at him. “I warn you, if you get me pregnant, I’ll chop you first, then bash my head in.”

Wan Qian clicked his tongue in exasperation, muttering, “Why do we always have to talk about killing?”

He tried to reason, “If you bear my child, I’ll be tied to you. Then, whatever you do to Me, I won’t resist.”

It was practically an open hint: “If you give me a child, your scheme can proceed smoothly.”

Unfortunately, the two of them operated on completely different wavelengths; their conversation didn’t match at all.

Ming Ming was convinced he was insane.

Seriously, dangerously insane.

Wan Qian sighed, regretfully thinking: I’ve even taught her how to harm Me, and yet she still can’t pay attention to Me…

Exhausted, Ming Ming decided it was safer to keep her distance—who knew if his intermittent madness was contagious. Wan Qian had her escorted back and summoned the imperial physician.

The physician knelt fearfully before him. Wan Qian asked, “Is the concoction you prepared guaranteed to prevent conception?”

“Your Majesty, rest assured. This medicine is completely reliable.”

Wan Qian didn’t know how to describe his feelings—simultaneously relieved, anxious, and frustrated.

“Then continue preparing it,” Wan Qian said coldly. “If anything goes wrong, and my beloved ends up pregnant by accident, I’ll personally execute your entire family.”

“Your servant dares not.”

The physician’s life was spared, and he hurriedly withdrew, muttering to himself: This Wan Qian Emperor is impossible to please. Refusing to allow heirs? How can a man think so strangely?

That night, Wan Qian held Ming Ming. True to his prediction, her arms were sore and weak. Ming Ming whined and resisted, but he didn’t force her—he massaged her arms and shoulders until she drifted off to sleep, relaxed and content.

That night, lightning and thunder streaked across the sky, signaling an approaching storm. But before the rain could fall, thick smoke suddenly rose from the outskirts of the capital, followed by towering flames that spread rapidly. From above, the conflagration resembled a massive dragon racing across the plains.

For a while, there was widespread disaster—but no one came to help.