Meng Huan seemed to have not heard clearly and asked, "Say it again."
The servant repeated, "The letter says that they are aware of your intentions to seduce the Lord, transmit information, and they mourn your daring act of assassinating the Lord. With your presence, the great ancestral kingdom now has a glimmer of hope."
"..."
The absurdity reached a point where Meng Huan felt as if they were singing a thank-you song, saying, "Thanks to you spring has come."
Could he shoulder the honorable mission of saving the Great Ancestral Dynasty?
However, Meng Huan tried to contemplate. Did the original host bear the task of assassinating Lin Bozhou?
"..."
Meng Huan suddenly felt a bit panicked. It was already extremely difficult for him to survive in the Wang residence. Now, he was being told that he also had the task of seduction and assassination. Wouldn't his miserable life become even more unbearable?
"Husband, it turns out you're an assassin," the servant's face turned pale.
"..." Meng Huan opened his mouth, not knowing what to say, and struggled to say, "Don't falsely accuse me without evidence."
"Then why is it in the letter?" Meng Huan's heart tightened as he realized that as a servant in the Wang residence, he was undoubtedly aligned with Lin Bozhou. The content of the letter involved assassination, and if he were to inform Lin Bozhou, his current situation would be extremely dangerous.
Meng Huan explained in a pale voice, "I truly don't know why I received this letter..."
The shocked look in the servant's eyes clearly expressed disbelief.
Meng Huan gritted his teeth and could only think of one solution. He grabbed a handful of pearl necklaces from a plate and handed them to the servant, saying, "Promise me you'll forget about tonight."
The servant took the pearl necklaces and left Meng Huan's courtyard without any hesitation, heading straight to the study where Lin Bozhou was currently present.
Late at night, the study was brightly lit. Lin Bozhou, his eyes covered with white gauze, sat upright in a chair, reciting the contents of the "Book of Rites": "Therefore, virtue matches heaven and earth, benefiting all things, shining as brightly as the sun and moon, illuminating the four seas without neglecting the smallest details."
Silently listening to him recite, Lin Bozhou had already memorized the contents of these books, but he occasionally reviewed them.
Due to his eye ailment and the lack of widespread use of glasses in ancient times, someone like him who needed to read a large number of official documents every day would often have his subordinates read them aloud, and he would understand the content and make decisions to protect his eyes as much as possible.
The servant entered and knelt on the ground, saying, "Lord, the Madam received a letter today."
The recitation of the Book of Rites stopped, and Lin Bozhou looked towards the servant, "Hmm? Madam is secluded in the Wang residence. How did she receive someone else's letter? Who delivered it?"
"Probably the gatekeeper took money," Lin Bozhou replied simply. "Go on."
The servant continued, "The Madam called me to help her read the letter. It states that the Madam seduced you with her charm, gathered intelligence, and planned to assassinate you."
Lin Bozhou remained unfazed, but the book in his hand suddenly dropped to the ground.
His expression was as if he had swallowed an egg, "Madam really can't read?"
"..."
The servant then took out a bracelet from his sleeve, saying, "This is a bri
be the Madam gave me to keep it a secret."
"Reward: ten taels."
"Thank you, Lord." The servant bowed and exited.
The study fell into silence, and Lin Bozhou had a puzzled expression on his face. He found it hard to believe what he had just heard, "Does the Madam really have the ability to gather intelligence?"
"..."
After a glance from Lin Bozhou, Mountain Xing carefully analyzed, "If someone delivered this letter to the Madam, it must be one of Meng Xueming's allies. Could it be Minister Lu who delivered it? He came to visit and inquire about your health in the morning, and in the afternoon, he writes an assassination letter. He truly wears two faces."
"The court has many people who wish for me to die," Lin Bozhou lightly tapped the table with his finger, lost in thought at the phrase "seduced with charm."
He envisioned every move and action of Meng Huan in his mind.
Mountain Xing looked at his expression and cautiously asked, "Then... how does the Lord plan to deal with the Madam?"
Mountain Xing spoke cautiously. He could feel that Lin Bozhou, who had focused solely on state affairs for more than twenty years without marrying or taking a wife, seemed to have sparked a different kind of interest in Meng Huan.
"How to deal with her?"
Lin Bozhou picked up the tea bowl, the firelight reflecting in his pupils, sparkling with a hint of unfathomable depth.
Meng Huan's fair and handsome face appeared in his mind.
The young appearance was quite obedient, often pausing for two or three seconds before organizing a complete sentence when speaking. He was even timid and easily cried, with a red nose that looked pitiful.
"Lord?" Mountain Xing prompted.
Lin Bozhou covered the tea bowl, smiled indifferently, and replied, "He can't kill me."
Then he added, "Summon him here."
Mountain Xing's expression grew even more surprised, and it took a while before he said, "Lord, are you deliberately toying with the Madam?"
Lin Bozhou lifted his eyelids, smiled without confirming or denying, and said, "Don't you find his reactions interesting?"
"...," Shan Xing thought.
In the courtyard on the other side, Meng Huan, who was completely unaware of the servant's betrayal, had a reclining chair placed in the yard for him. He sat there, gazing at the starry night, lost in thought.
The ancient surroundings were beautiful, with a deep blue night sky adorned by a full moon. It reminded Meng Huan of Run Tu hunting hedgehogs under the moonlight. He smiled briefly but soon his mind was filled with thoughts of seduction and murder.
Ah, how bothersome.
Meng Huan murmured softly to himself, deciding to put the thoughts aside and return to his room to sleep.
From the neighboring area came the commotion of a maid trying to catch a young chicken.
"Block the door on the left side, don't let it escape!"
"Oh no, it's pecking at people!"
Meng Huan's thoughts were interrupted, and he looked over. "What are you all doing?"
The maid replied, "Madam, we caught two chickens and are plucking their feathers and chopping them into pieces. We plan to simmer them slowly overnight and prepare chicken soup for you in the morning."
Meng Huan saw the two plump old hens in her hands.
"Are you killing the chickens now?"
"Yes, Madam."
The assassination of Lin Bozhou weighed heavily on Meng Huan's mind. With a sudden impulse, he said somewhat abruptly, "Let me do it."
The maid was taken aback. "Madam, it's too dangerous for someone like you..."
"It's fine, let me try."
Before he began cultivating his skills, Meng Huan lived in the city where fresh produce was readily available, and he didn't need to handle things personally. He was timid and had never experienced bloodshed or death, except for occasionally swatting mosquitoes.
But now he felt the need to toughen up. With determination in his heart, he reached out and took one of the old hens from the maid, its wings warm to the touch. It was clearly a lively and energetic creature, which made Meng Huan feel uncomfortable. He blinked, convinced himself, and then took the sharp knife handed to him by the servant, watching as the servant demonstrated how to kill the chicken.
The knife pierced the chicken's throat, severing it, and a burst of crimson blood gushed out, flowing into a trench along the ground.
Meng Huan caught a whiff of the strong scent of blood.
"It's your turn, Madam," the servant said.
Meng Huan's mind was overwhelmed by a surge of nausea. His grip loosened, and the chicken slipped from his grasp, splattering blood onto his clothes, leaving them sticky and unpleasant, accompanied by a foul stench.
Bending over, Meng Huan covered his throat and let out a painful groan.
The maid said, "..."
The servant said, "..."
Meng Huan said, "..."
The maid was startled. "Madam, are you alright?"
Suppressing the urge to vomit, tears welled up in Meng Huan's eyes. He raised his hand to signal them to stop and, with a trembling voice, said, "I won't kill the chicken."
He walked back to the courtyard, slumped down on the chair, and began to withdraw into himself, attempting to heal his wounded psyche.
He didn't expect to feel sick.
What a waste. It seems I'm not cut out for killing after all.
Meng Huan silently hugged himself. If he couldn't even kill a chicken, how could he expect to use a blade to sever Lin Bozhou's head?
The more he thought about it, the more disheartened he become.
.