The Marquis Mansion’s Elite Class

After Zong Zhao left, Luo Jingfeng was still fuming.

Chu Jincheng approached with a cheeky grin, sweet-talking, "Uncle, why are you throwing a tantrum as soon as you return? Getting angry like this is bad for your health—it'll make you sick."

Luo Jingfeng lowered his head and huffed, "It's because I worry about you. A year apart—who knows what kind of divisive nonsense they've been filling your ears with?"

"Oh, no, no! I've only been learning from them how to be an emperor. Nothing you're worried about has happened. Look, aren't I still close to you?" The young boy pulled out all the stops to cozy up to his uncle, showering him with one affectionate remark after another.

Luo Jingfeng was clearly pleased. He smiled and said, "Fine, I'll take your word that they haven't been stirring trouble. But we still need to address the matter with your eldest uncle. His request for a few counties is trivial. Repeatedly rejecting him only makes our family a laughingstock. I've already had the rejected memorial intercepted before it reached him. Rewrite an edict granting him the fief, will you?"

The little tyrant's smiling face suddenly froze.

The warmth in his body seeped away, replaced by a creeping chill. His arms, still looped around his uncle's, trembled slightly. Jincheng asked, voice trembling with disbelief, "You intercepted my reply to the Prince of Southern Pacification?"

As the words left his lips, they seemed to hang in the air—frail, disbelieving, as if spoken by someone else.

Luo Jingfeng, oblivious to the shift, raised a brow and chuckled. "Of course. I had it intercepted by express courier before it could reach Yunnan. Otherwise, your eldest uncle would've been heartbroken."

With that confirmation, the boy's composure shattered.

He shoved Luo Jingfeng away, his pent-up emotions erupting in a furious roar. "Luo Jingfeng! I am the emperor! The sovereign of this land! Who gave you the right to intercept my decree?"

Luo Jingfeng blinked, taken aback by the outburst. "Jincheng, why are you so upset? It's just a letter. Now that it's been returned, you can rewrite it, can't you?"

The young emperor staggered back, despair washing over him.

His eyes reddened as he shook his head, muttering under his breath, "You intercepted my decree… You intercepted my decree…"

At that moment, only heaven knew—his world had collapsed.

No matter how hard he tried to ignore their political differences, no matter how often he reminded himself of Luo Jingfeng's military triumphs for the nation, no matter how vividly he recalled the love behind the gift of thirty thousand troops—none of it mattered now.

This single act had shattered every illusion, every pretense of harmony. It crushed his pride, his dignity, and every last hope he'd clung to about their relationship.

The Duke of State Protection was arrogant, domineering, and self-absorbed. If he wanted something, it didn't matter whether the other party was his nephew or the emperor—he would disregard them entirely.

That decree had borne the imperial seal. It was the emperor's command.

Yet Luo Jingfeng had intercepted it as if it were nothing. As if everything in this empire lay under his control, as if everyone valued him above the emperor himself.

What kind of ruler was he? A caged bird, kept by Luo Jingfeng.

"Jincheng, what's wrong? Are you unwell?" Luo Jingfeng, noticing the boy was on the verge of tears, quickly grasped his hands, checking for any signs of illness.

The young emperor swallowed the lump in his throat, voice hoarse. "Uncle, didn't you say… I would always come first in your heart?"

Why? Why didn't you choose me?

Why did you side with my eldest uncle instead?

Wasn't I the most important person to you?

Were all your words just lies?

The questions screamed silently in his heart, unheard by Luo Jingfeng.

The duke merely frowned. "Of course you are. You'll always be first in my heart. Is this about the counties for your uncle? I just didn't want him to lose face—it's such a trivial matter. I don't understand why you're reacting like this. Do you resent him getting something for nothing? Fine. Let my military merits cover it. I'll forfeit my own rewards and transfer them to him. Will that satisfy you?"

Silence settled over the imperial study.

His uncle's words aligned perfectly with Prime Minister Shen's prediction.

He really intended to trade his own achievements for the Prince of Southern Pacification's gain.

Chu Jincheng's eyes burned with unshed tears, his voice small but stubborn. "What if I still refuse?"

Luo Jingfeng's patience, already thin, snapped. His expression darkened. "Then I'll have to interrogate Zong Zhao and Shen Qixian properly. Let's see what poisonous ideas they've planted in your head to make you defy me over something so insignificant."

Knowing Luo Jingfeng, once suspicion took root, he wouldn't rest until he'd dug up the truth.

His mind was made up—those counties would go to the Prince of Southern Pacification.

No persuasion would sway him.

Jincheng understood now.

He saw everything clearly.

The boy nodded, sniffed, and spoke solemnly. "Fine. I'll grant your request. Use your merits to secure the fief for the Prince of Southern Pacification."

If he couldn't stop this outcome, he might as well concede.

At least it would spare them both further humiliation.

Luo Jingfeng's stern expression softened. He smiled. "Good boy. Now draft the edict. Later, I'll take you archery practice. By the time the royal hunt comes around, you'll dominate the field."

Chu Jincheng sat before the dragon throne, brush in hand. Each stroke of the edict felt like a blade slicing into his own flesh—agonizing, unbearable.

"Uncle, it's done. Send someone to deliver it to the Prince of Southern Pacification. I'm tired now. I'd like to summon Lady Fusheng… I want to speak with her." His voice was drained.

Luo Jingfeng took the edict, concern knitting his brow. "Jincheng, you look pale. Let me call the imperial physician."

The boy shook his head, tone detached. "No need. I just want to see Mother. I miss her."

Luo Jingfeng's frown deepened. He'd always disliked his nephew referring to Xu Wan as "Mother," but now wasn't the time to argue. He'd correct him later.

Once the Duke of State Protection left with the edict,

Jincheng ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍walked to the palace doors and sat in a patch of sunlight, curling into himself, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. He waited there, quiet and still, for his mother to arrive.

It was strange.

The sunlight was so bright, yet he felt so cold.

As he waited, his thoughts drifted.

His Highness had once advised him to play the fool before the Luo family. Only then would he have room to maneuver in the future.

And just days ago, anticipating his uncle's return, he'd wondered—what if he laid his cards on the table?

If Luo Jingfeng knew he'd mastered statecraft, that he wasn't just some clueless child, that he resented being overshadowed—would his uncle willingly relinquish military power and step back as a mere subject?