A Scummy Alpha Emperor Transmigrated and Marked the Powerful Prime Minister - Chapter 16

Lin Jiayue had no idea that Lu Siling had critiqued her handwriting as “taxing on the eyes.” If she knew, she would definitely lose her temper. After all, her hard-pen calligraphy had been held up as a model by her teachers since she was a child.

Later, when she studied brush calligraphy, her teacher thought she was very talented, though she had started late—at most, she had achieved a modest level of mastery. She didn’t think much of it; there weren’t many places in the modern workplace that required manual writing. She had originally started practicing as a joke, and later, it became a way to calm her mind.

Who would have guessed she’d transmigrate to ancient times? Not only did she have to learn brush calligraphy, but she also had to learn how to handle everything—especially how to wield power.

Lin Jiayue had been thinking about what the first step of taking power should be. Intimidating Wei Jinming into obedience was only to ensure she wasn’t cut off from information. In the imperial palace, Wei Jinming’s power couldn’t compare to those at the top.

Beside Lin Jiayue stood Zhang Huairou. Compared to Wei Jinming, Zhang Huairou was clearly more stable and much smarter. They were currently on their way to the martial arts field. While the outer court was packing up for the holiday, she still had to attend her martial arts sessions.

Her martial arts master was Zheng Qinglin, a Commander in the Forbidden Army. Zheng was the top martial scholar (Wu Zhuangyuan) of the Xining era—a true polymath of civil and military affairs. A martial scholar didn’t just need to fight; they had to pass exams on tactics. Those who were illiterate couldn’t even take the martial exams; it was just that, unlike the civil service exams, they didn’t need extraordinary literary flair. They were selecting generals to lead armies into battle.

Starting at the sixth rank, Zheng Qinglin had risen to the senior fourth rank in just a few years and was even tasked with teaching the Emperor—enough of a testament to her ability. All of Lin Jiayue’s teachers were arranged by Lu Siling. Of course, these masters weren’t all Lu Siling’s people; they were simply people capable of teaching the young Emperor well.

“Long live Your Majesty, peace be upon you.”

“Master Zheng.”

The two greeted each other, and Lin Jiayue began her practice without complaint. Zheng Qinglin grew increasingly surprised as she watched. The young Emperor used to be a mere “flower frame”—she looked imposing and powerful, but in reality, her movements were so weak a gentle shove would knock her over.

At eighteen, she couldn’t even pull a half-stone bow. When riding, she was timid and didn’t dare gallop. What happened? Her movements now looked powerful.

The moment the young Emperor picked up a bow and drew the string with ease, Zheng Qinglin immediately walked over. Could the bow have been swapped? Impossible. To be safe, she had checked everything on the field before the lesson started, fearing an accident that would ruin her as well.

Teaching the young Emperor meant that once she took full power, her status as a martial teacher would rise with the tide. But given the Emperor’s performance over the years and the intensifying court struggles… forget it. She’d be lucky just to finish her teaching tenure safely.

Besides, the young Emperor hadn’t cared much for martial arts. Zheng herself was a second-rate expert; if the Emperor learned casually, she might reach the third-rate. Yet at eighteen, she hadn’t grasped a single shred of the essence.

Hearing that the Northern Frontier was restless, Zheng Qinglin had wanted to give up this “dream” opportunity of teaching the Emperor and head to the border instead. If the Grand Chancellor agreed, she could leave immediately. But the young Emperor’s sudden performance left Zheng stunned. Had she been faking it before?

Whish— the arrow struck the bullseye.

Just as Zheng Qinglin thought it was a fluke, Lin Jiayue drew and fired again. A second hit. Three hits in a row—that wasn’t luck.

The eunuchs and guards standing watch were also dumbfounded. They had accompanied the Emperor in practice for so long, yet this was the first time they’d seen her so skilled. She was truly showing off her divine prowess. Even if she wasn’t a master archer, she had surpassed most people.

Immediately after, Lin Jiayue stepped back ten paces. For some reason, she felt she could hit it from even further away. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, she stepped back, drew her bow, and released it without hesitation. The arrow sliced through the air and actually pierced through the center of the target.

Zheng Qinglin’s eyes widened. She was now certain: the young Emperor had been faking it in the past. She had played it so well—her weak steps were nothing like now, where her lower body was solid and her gaze sharp. Before, she would hesitate for ages before firing an arrow, aiming and re-aiming only to miss.

Lin Jiayue’s aim had always been good; her test scores were accurate, and she was even better at shooters. During college, when she played tactical laser tag with friends, her hit count was double that of the runner-up. The theory of archery was all in the original owner’s head; she just didn’t know why her strength had become so great.

She thought: Maybe the heavens couldn’t stand it anymore and gave me the “King of Strength” cheat. No wonder she could eat so much; strongmen were always big eaters. Lin Jiayue found a reasonable excuse for her appetite.

In short: self-defense ability +1.

“Your Majesty’s archery has improved so much, it is comparable to a master marksman in the army,” Zheng Qinglin praised sincerely. She was a warrior; she admired absolute strength. If nothing else, the Emperor had conquered her with her archery.

“Master Zheng overpraises me.” Lin Jiayue waved her hand, feeling a bit embarrassed by the compliment.

Zheng Qinglin bowed. “I have taught Your Majesty for three years, yet besides the first day, I have never truly tested Your Majesty’s strength. To adjust next year’s curriculum, I ask Your Majesty for your guidance.”

A fight? Lin Jiayue had worked in a gym and learned free-sparring; she had quite a bit of experience with fighting. Combined with the original owner’s theories and her current strength, she should be fine. The two stepped onto the platform to settle the score.

Even if her archery was good, no one thought she could beat Zheng Qinglin.

“Rest assured, Your Majesty, I will not use internal energy.”

Internal energy existed in this world, along with official martial arts organizations meant to monitor practitioners and prevent them from using their skills to break the law. The original owner had practiced, but had no talent. Lin Jiayue recalled the process and felt something was wrong; based on her understanding of acupuncture points, the route of the energy flow was incorrect.

It was like acupuncture. In modern clinics, every needle must follow a sequence; a single error is unacceptable. If the original owner had continued, she would have died. It was a blessing in disguise that she had no talent. Truly a predatory palace—traps everywhere.

Lin Jiayue took a boxing stance. She was more familiar with free-sparring than the martial arts she had just learned. The essence of free-sparring is efficiency and controlling the opponent. Rules? I’m in ancient times; what rules?

Zheng Qinglin intended to let the Emperor strike first, but seeing the Emperor take a defensive stance, she threw the first punch. The fist broke the wind, aiming straight for Lin Jiayue’s face. Lin Jiayue tilted her head to dodge and counter-attacked simultaneously.

The two exchanged a couple of moves. Zheng shifted her fist into a palm to strike her wrist, her footwork nimble. In comparison, Lin Jiayue was fairly agile but lacked formal footwork.

Lin Jiayue soon realized the distance was too close; if she didn’t open it up, she’d lose. she had to trade a hard punch with Zheng to use the momentum to back away quickly. Her physical constitution was still significantly lower than Zheng’s for now.

Lin Jiayue’s breathing grew heavy. Her movements were even more “free” than free-sparring; she decisively used an elbow strike. Zheng’s movements were wide and sweeping, and Lin Jiayue found her opening. She punched toward Zheng’s armpit, causing her to stumble, and immediately followed up with a strike to her shanzhong point (center of the chest). Zheng let out a muffled groan and briefly lost her strength.

The match was over.

“I apologize for the offense.”

It took Zheng Qinglin a while to recover. “Your Majesty held back.”

Lin Jiayue had indeed held back; a strike to the shanzhong point with more force could have damaged the sternum or internal organs. She certainly couldn’t beat Zheng Qinglin normally, even without internal energy. She had to rely on a combination of strength and technique. She understood pressure points and knew exactly how much force to apply where to win without hurting Zheng.

The Forbidden Guards watching were stunned. Was this still the young Emperor? Zheng Qinglin was a martial scholar—the top warrior and tactician chosen in the only martial exam held in thirty years. The young Emperor… no, the Emperor had defeated the Zhuangyuan. Though Commander Zheng hadn’t used internal energy, the Emperor had never shown such skill before. Warriors respected strength.

“The Emperor is mighty!”

“The Emperor is mighty!”

The guards slammed their spears against the ground, making the earth tremble.

Watching from afar, Lu Siling’s gaze grew cold. The young Emperor’s skill was more than just “average.” In her previous life, when the Emperor was captured, she had crawled and begged for mercy, unable to even beat a junior eunuch.

Could a person really change this much? No… she was being too influenced by her past-life knowledge. She had to break out of that limited thinking and face the reality of the present world—and the current “bastard.”

Setting aside everything she knew, Lin Jiayue was playing the pig to eat the tiger. For her to suddenly reveal her sharpness meant her ambitions were massive. What was this bastard plotting?

Lu Siling looked at Lin Jiayue, who was currently “modestly” waving her hands. “Enough, enough, stop the praise. Keep it low-key.”

That posture was just like little Bai Heng fighting the tabby cat at the manor—striking and running, then wagging its tail to declare victory when the cat was too lazy to retaliate. Lu Siling tilted her head; that clumsy attitude didn’t look like someone with a grand scheme at all.

Could she be faking it?

Half-truth, half-faking. Lin Jiayue had a smile on her face, but she kept stealing glances toward Lu Siling.