Chapter 78

The crowd quickly bowed to Zhu Jingchen.

“Miss Li’s injuries are quite severe!” Zhu Jingchen sighed as he observed the wounds on Li Zhiwei’s face.

No wonder Xu Heming had been so furious.

Even when beating a dog, one must consider its owner—yet the Luo Family had not only assaulted his son but also his future wife.

“My injuries may look frightening now, but they’ve mostly healed,” Li Zhiwei quickly reassured.

“Good. Rest assured, I will see that justice is served for this matter,” Zhu Jingchen said to her.

“Your Majesty, Miss Li has suffered greatly. She deserves proper compensation,” the Empress chimed in.

Given Li Zhiwei’s somewhat delicate social standing, the Empress had spoken up to ensure the Emperor would publicly support her.

“The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍Empress speaks wisely. Miss Li, is there anything you desire?” Zhu Jingchen asked, though his question carried more of a probing intent—testing Li Zhiwei and the Li Family’s ambitions.

“Your Majesty, does that mean whatever I ask for, you will grant?” Li Zhiwei clenched her teeth, thinking of the corruption at Rushan Academy, and made a bold decision.

“That depends on whether what you ask is within my power to give,” Zhu Jingchen replied cautiously, unwilling to promise outright in case her request proved unreasonable.

“Your Majesty, I wish to establish a new school,” Li Zhiwei declared solemnly, kneeling before him.

A deathly silence fell over the room. No one had expected her to make such a request.

After all, even if the school were built, Li Zhiwei herself wouldn’t be the primary beneficiary.

“Oh? What kind of school does Miss Li envision?” Zhu Jingchen’s lips curled in amusement, his interest clearly piqued.

“I wish to establish a school specifically for children under the age of five,” Li Zhiwei answered earnestly.

“Children under five attending school?”

“Didn’t Prince An’s son already enroll in one?”

“And wasn’t he bullied precisely because he was too young?”

“What could Miss Li possibly gain from such a school?”

The crowd murmured in confusion.

“Miss Li’s idea is commendable. Today, I’ve invited everyone to witness a unique performance. We shall discuss this matter further afterward,” Zhu Jingchen said, gesturing toward a eunuch in the distance before inviting everyone to take their seats.

Li Zhiwei and Lin Ziyi were seated just below the four imperial concubines—a position with an excellent view.

Now that she had a moment to herself, Lin Ziyi’s thoughts drifted back to her unfaithful husband, leaving her disinterested in the performance.

“Li sister, be careful later. Among the guests, only the two of us are officials’ family members,” Lin Ziyi whispered, still puzzled as to why the Emperor had summoned them so conspicuously.

On the stage ahead, wisps of smoke began to rise.

Soon, eunuchs dressed in simple attire emerged.

Having lived two lifetimes, Li Zhiwei had never seen such a sight and was momentarily bewildered.

The eunuchs swayed awkwardly, their movements stiff.

The concubines exchanged glances, too wary of the Emperor’s presence to voice their confusion.

Before long, a man appeared, his eyes veiled with thin gauze, similarly dressed but with his chest half-bare.

Li Zhiwei distinctly heard the sharp intakes of breath around her.

Embarrassed, she lowered her gaze.

Were palace banquets always this… unconventional?

When she looked up again, the man was twisting his body in an odd, exaggerated manner.

“Lord Wei’s dance moves are truly extraordinary,” a concubine giggled to her companion.

“Indeed! I’d heard rumors that Lord Wei enjoys strolling around shirtless, but who knew he had such… assets? Had I known, I’d have gone to admire him sooner,” another concubine added, covering her mouth in amusement.

The Emperor watched with great relish from his elevated seat.

After endless performances of delicate feminine grace, this rough-and-tumble display was a refreshing change.

“Lin sister, are palace banquets always like this?” Li Zhiwei couldn’t resist asking in a hushed tone.

“What—?” Still lost in thoughts of her husband’s betrayal, Lin Ziyi looked up—only to see her own husband gyrating on stage!

Heavens above!

Lin Ziyi’s eyes widened in shock.

What in the world was happening?

Hadn’t her husband left her for another woman?

Why was he now prancing about, flaunting himself before the Emperor and the concubines?

Though she hated to describe him so crudely, “flaunting” was the only word that came to mind.

“Oh, Lady Wei is so fortunate! She gets to enjoy such performances every day, while the rest of us can only dream,” a young concubine sighed enviously, casting a longing glance at Lin Ziyi.

“Lin sister, the palace’s tastes are so strange. That man’s movements are bizarre, yet everyone seems to be enjoying it,” Li Zhiwei whispered, utterly perplexed.

Unaware that the man on stage was Lin Ziyi’s husband, she continued watching in bewilderment.

Lin Ziyi’s lips twitched. How could she possibly explain this?

More importantly—since when did the Minister of Ceremonies have to perform hip-thrusting routines for the imperial harem?

On stage, Wei Jing’an froze mid-gyration the moment he spotted his wife staring at him with that horrified expression.

Only one thought crossed his mind:

I’m doomed. She saw everything.

“Oh? Has Lord Wei’s performance ended? Is Prince An next?”

“Prince An is performing today?”

The concubines perked up with renewed excitement.

They had long coveted a glimpse of Prince An’s physique.

The mere thought of witnessing his prowess sent them into a frenzy.

For once, they felt the Emperor truly understood their desires.

Nearby, Li Zhiwei’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Xu Heming?

Performing?

Like that man, swaying his hips?

Lin Ziyi finally understood why she and Li Zhiwei had been summoned.

The performers tonight were their men.

Now, several wooden poles were placed on the stage.

Li Zhiwei eyed them warily. Was Xu Heming going to demonstrate his strength by breaking them?

But could he even snap such thick logs?

A pang of concern struck her.

Backstage, Xu Heming stood bare-chested, radiating icy displeasure.

His face screamed one thing:

I am not happy.

I am furious.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep