Jia Yi came to Ah Jiu's study, saluted, then stood in front of the desk, only to feel his scalp prickle under Ah Jiu's stare.
"Your Highness?"
Ah Jiu fixed his gaze on the burly man before him; his features were hard and stern, more like a general on the battlefield than a commander lurking in the shadows.
"Jia Yi, are you my Imperial Brother's man, or mine?" Ah Jiu narrowed his eyes and asked.
Jia Yi's pupils abruptly contracted. Without thinking, he dropped to one knee, fist pressed to his chest, and said in a deep voice, "In life I belong to Your Highness, in death I am Your Highness's ghost."
Ah Jiu looked down at him from on high, exerting a cool, quiet pressure.
Jia Yi only felt sweat bead on his forehead, but he did not dare raise his head, much less offer the slightest explanation; the more one explains, the more mistakes one makes.
"Stand up and speak." After a long while, Ah Jiu finally spoke.
Jia Yi stood, looking toward Ah Jiu.
