In the midst of their conversation, they soon arrived outside the imperial study. Brian Clark stopped at the door and bowed, saying, “Mr. Harris, please go ahead. This humble servant will not enter.”

Edward Harris nodded, recalling the palace etiquette, and deftly fished something out from his sleeve, slipping it into Brian Clark’s hand. “Thank you, Eunuch.”

After straightening his sleeves, he stepped into the imperial study.

As the doors closed, Brian Clark couldn’t wait to glance at his hand: a few small walnuts tumbled together, with one only half remaining.

“……” Crack. Brian Clark was utterly defeated.

Inside the imperial study.

On the sandalwood desk, fine paperweights, brushes, and ink were neatly arranged. Several pear blossoms were slanted in a white porcelain vase, adding a touch of brightness and elegance to the otherwise solemn room.

William Thompson, dressed in dark robes, sat behind the desk, his brows slightly furrowed.

Standing before him was a man in splendid attire, exuding noble charm, his features bearing a three-part resemblance to William Thompson—it was none other than the late emperor’s second son, Prince Xuan, Andrew Thompson.

Andrew Thompson fiddled with a pear branch. “Your Majesty, what happened at the grand ceremony today?”

William Thompson tapped his fingertips lightly on the desk, not replying.

Andrew Thompson glanced at him and tried to persuade him with a sigh, “I don’t know what crime that Henry Harris has committed, but right now all the meritorious officials at court are united. He not only helped you ascend the throne, but also has the late emperor’s verbal decree. To deal with him arbitrarily might give the impression of killing the dog after the rabbit is caught…”

“Elder brother, I know what I’m doing.” William Thompson finally spoke.

Andrew Thompson looked at him, then smiled, “I was overthinking.”

“Your Majesty.” Just then, a report came from outside: “Scholar Harris requests an audience—”

Andrew Thompson withdrew his hand and bowed. “I’ll take my leave.”

……

Edward Harris followed the attendant toward the imperial study, and halfway there, he ran into someone coming out from within.

The man radiated imperial nobility and bore some resemblance to William Thompson. Only, there was a faint scar at the corner of his eye—a slight flaw on a beautiful jade.

He remembered this was the newly titled Prince Xuan from the ceremony. “Greetings, Your Highness.”

Andrew Thompson was quite amiable. “Mr. Harris.”

Neither lingered in small talk.

Edward Harris brushed past him and soon entered the imperial study, where he saw William Thompson seated behind the desk.

William Thompson was looking down, writing something on paper, not glancing up.

Edward Harris bowed deeply. “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

There was a moment of silence ahead, then a cool, clear voice sounded, “I heard that David Harris took a fall today and bumped your head?”

Edward Harris: …Who, who tattled!

He looked ashamed. “I was foolish, Your Majesty.”

William Thompson set down his brush and glanced at him lightly. “David Harris is skilled, how could you be so careless?”

Edward Harris, “……”

Was it his imagination, or did that sound a bit sarcastic?

A faint chill seemed to brush past him, the emperor’s gaze fixed directly on him.

Edward Harris lowered his lashes and coughed twice, trembling as he knelt down. “Is Your Majesty blaming me… I deserve a thousand deaths… cough, cough, cough, cough!”

William Thompson silently watched him from behind the desk.

The crimson court robe was far too large, making the figure prostrate on the floor look even more frail. The outline of his lonely spine showed faintly through his back, and his black hair spilled like ink down his back.

His clenched knuckles pressed to his lips, coughing until they turned red.

It didn’t seem entirely like an act.

Edward Harris was choking on his own saliva, seeing stars, when suddenly a pair of black boots with gold-rimmed edges appeared in his vision.

“So it seems I frightened David Harris.”

“?” Edward Harris looked up, eyes misty with tears. “Your Majesty?”

His moist eyes looked clear and harmless, tinged with pure confusion. William Thompson met his gaze for a moment before slowly saying, “I summoned David Harris here regarding your official duties.”

Official duties?

Edward Harris was suddenly jolted awake: Oh right, he was here to resign!

William Thompson said, “David Harris’s head injury is quite serious, so you won’t be able to continue your post at the Hanlin Academy. Starting tomorrow…”

Edward Harris couldn’t hold back his delight. “I was just about to request retirement and return home—”

“…come to the imperial study.”

Both voices fell at the same time.

The imperial study fell silent as the two stared at each other, one standing, one kneeling.

William Thompson looked at him calmly. “What did David Harris just say?”

Edward Harris’s lips trembled slightly.

He wanted to ask what William Thompson was talking about!

He couldn’t go to the Hanlin Academy because of his head injury, so he was to come to the imperial study instead?

Have you ever respected the imperial study?

“I…” Edward Harris pressed his temples, dizzy. “Am I hearing things, Your Majesty? You said I could retire and return home, right?”

Suddenly, William Thompson half-knelt in front of him, his cool gaze suddenly level with his own. A large, warm, calloused hand gripped Edward Harris’s chin, tilting his face upward—

“Mm…”

That slightly pale face was now clearly in William Thompson’s view.

William Thompson spoke softly, “Is David Harris really willing to retire and return home?”

“What?” Edward Harris was caught off guard by the pinch, his lashes fluttering, lips opening and closing like a goldfish.

A faint breath brushed over the callused tiger’s mouth.

William Thompson carefully studied Edward Harris’s expression. The skin beneath his fingertips was soft and cool, reminiscent of the white pear blossoms in the courtyard—so delicate that a little force would crush it.

The imperial study was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.