Renascido Sem Aumentar o QI

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In the square before the imperial city, on Chessboard Street, the morning market had already opened.

It was the transition between the hours of Yin and Mao, and the breakfast stalls emitted steaming white vapors, dispelling some of the winter chill.

At a wooden table sat a man wearing a black official hat, dressed in a scarlet round-collar official robe, with a rhinoceros-horn belt at his waist. On the front and back of his robe was embroidered a golden pheasant.

Only a high-ranking civil official of the second rank could wear such attire. Passing commoners dared not stare. When the stall owner served the meal, he caught a glimpse of the man’s prominent nose and noble bone structure from the corner of his eye.

The stall owner silently sighed, “So young, yet so powerful.”

The man in the scarlet robe lightly tapped a white porcelain spoon with his fingertips, causing ripples in the broth. Yet he did not hurry to drink it, his brows lowered as if deep in thought.

Behind him stood Yan Ming, a stern guard dressed in black, sword in hand. His cold expression added gravity to his master’s presence, deterring any mischief. But in his heart, he murmured—

“His lordship has been acting strangely these past days.”

His lordship was always devoted to state affairs, never idle, but recently he would sometimes stare off into space. Yesterday, he even made a special trip to Tanzhe Temple and locked himself in conversation with the abbot, Master Zhiguan, for nearly an hour. That was surprising, as his lordship never believed i