Zhuogeng had been meditating all night. He arrived just as Daenerys was beginning the interview, standing on her shoulder with a somewhat dazed expression. In truth, he was afraid to think too much.
Unaware of where Zhuogeng had gone the previous night, Daenerys noticed his subdued mood. She gently stroked his back in a gesture of comfort.
*Hmph! If only...* Zhuogeng couldn't help but grumble inwardly, but he forcibly suppressed the thought, forcing his gaze downward and resuming his contemplation.
Daenerys had just caught a flicker of discontent in Zhuogeng's thoughts, but when he didn't continue, she grew curious about who had angered him. She glanced at Zhuogeng, his eyes still closed, before turning her attention to the interview about to begin.
The first candidate was the gaunt old man Daenerys had noticed before, who had previously taught the Wise Master's children.
"What knowledge do you possess? What are your strengths? Tell us everything you taught at the Wise Master's House," Missandei, who was overseeing the entire interview, asked first.
"I... I taught the Wise Master's children Valyrian and Ghiscari, as well as reading, writing, arithmetic, and basic Yunkai history," Arata replied, looking uneasy and unaccustomed to such a formal setting.
"Tell me about the subjects you usually teach and your calculation methods." Darren, who was well-versed in these areas, was tasked with evaluating the candidates.
After Darren finished speaking, Arata began recounting his experiences as a tutor at the Wise Master's House.
Darren took notes as he listened. Once Arata had finished, he nodded to Missandei, signaling for the next interview.
After hearing Arata's account, Zhuogeng concluded that his academic level was roughly equivalent to a third-grader in his previous life, with math skills no higher than a second-grader. Just as he formed this conclusion, he cautiously glanced at the Dragon Mother, only to see her watching Arata depart with no discernible expression.
*Didn't she notice?* Zhuogeng reasoned that the Dragon Mother shouldn't have been able to read his thoughts. Yet, the moment he finished this thought, he noticed her eyes flick toward his shoulder.
Zhuogeng was puzzled. Hadn't the Dragon Mother shown no reaction when he was mentally assessing Arata's level? Why did she seem to sense something now? Suppressing his confusion, he resolved to continue observing.
The next candidate was a healer. Beyond treating colds, fevers, and performing basic wound dressings, he was unable to handle more serious illnesses. After comparing him to his previous life's standards, Zhuogeng concluded he was equivalent to a rural health clinic doctor.
As he evaluated the candidate, Zhuogeng continued to monitor the Dragon Mother's facial expressions, trying to discern a pattern in when she seemed to be "peeking" at his thoughts.
After the physician left, a man in his forties entered, wearing a linen robe and carrying a long, narrow backpack. His long, dark hair shone brightly.
The interviewees were somewhat surprised by the man's attire and the items he carried, but Zhuogeng immediately recognized him as an artist. After introducing himself, he began to demonstrate his skills.
From his backpack, he produced goose quills of varying thickness and several ink pots of different colors. He unrolled a large sheet of parchment and secured it to a wooden board with clips and string.
The parchment appeared to be custom-made, with no visible seams. Once everything was prepared, Huntley, the artist, rested the board on his lap, steadied it with his left hand, and looked up at Daenerys, ready to begin.
Seeing that Huntley was about to paint her, Daenerys quickly straightened her posture, adjusted her clothes, and glanced at Missandei beside her. Only after Missandei nodded did she relax, a faint smile appearing as she waited for Huntley to start.
*Now I won't have to spend half an hour every morning staring at a blurry bronze mirror to admire myself!* Zhuogeng couldn't help but think, recalling Daenerys's daily ritual.
"I—!" Daenerys's eyes widened, her smile vanishing instantly. Seeing Missandei's surprised expression, she gritted her teeth and forced a smile.
Seeing the Dragon Mother's strong reaction, Zhuogeng understood instantly, a hint of vengeful satisfaction stirring within him.
After more than ten minutes, the group grew restless as Huntley still hadn't finished. Yet none dared show impatience.
Having never modeled before, Daenerys's expression gradually became strained. She worried her discomfort might delay the interview, but Huntley remained composed, methodically changing his quill and refining the portrait's details.
Another twenty minutes passed before the portrait was finally complete, and Daenerys felt a wave of relief.
Setting his brush down beside the inkwell, Huntley rose to present the portrait of Daenerys.
"Wow!" Missandei exclaimed. Though Jorah and the others remained silent, their mouths hung open in astonishment as they gazed at the artwork. For the first time, Daenerys felt she was truly seeing herself.
The figure in the painting wore a pale blue gown, her silver hair braided and draped over her back, with only two strands of bangs framing her chest.
Her delicate face radiated nobility, and the corners of her smiling lips held an aura of authority. *Is this really me?* Daenerys couldn't help but touch her cheek.
She remembered Zhuogeng's earlier description of her... *queenly... presence*. Could this be what he meant by "queenly presence"? Daenerys thought, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks.
She glanced at the interview panel, all of whom wore expressions of genuine awe, clearly not feigning their admiration.
*Master-level quality!* Zhuogeng thought as he gazed at the portrait of the Dragon Mother. Though not an art expert, he recognized Huntley's exceptional skill. Even in his previous life, he would have been considered a professional-grade painter.
He never expected to see such a masterpiece in a small place like Yunkai.
"Your Majesty, please accept this portrait as my gift. I insist you take it." Huntley said, clearly pleased by the panel's reaction. As Daenerys finished admiring the painting, he presented it to her.
"This must be incredibly valuable. Such a generous gift is too precious," Daenerys replied, gently refusing and offering to purchase the artwork instead.
"Without Your Majesty's regal presence, I could never have captured such a likeness. The painting rightfully belongs to you," Huntley said, showering her with praise.
Seeing that the artist Huntley refused payment, Daenerys didn't press further. She couldn't allow her own portrait to fall into the wrong hands. After thanking him, she instructed Missandei to carefully store the painting.
Missandei, though not an art connoisseur, recognized Huntley's skill. She glanced at the other officials, seeking their opinions.
"I believe Huntley's artistic skill is among the best on the continent," Barristan remarked, his voice carrying the authority of a former Kingsguard who had seen countless works of art in King's Landing.
Jorah and Darren nodded slightly in agreement. As nobles, they recognized the truth in Barristan's assessment.
Missandei recorded the interview's conclusion on paper and thanked Huntley again on behalf of Daenerys before dismissing him to rest and prepare for the next round of interviews.
The subsequent candidates were a diverse group, including farmers, various artisans, blacksmiths, and musicians. However, those with expertise in governance, history, and languages were exceptionally rare.
By the end of the day, Zhuogeng had deciphered the pattern of the Dragon Mother's mind-reading. He had reached a conclusion.
He could only blame himself for his prolonged solitude in his previous life, which had cultivated a habit of talking to himself. Even after shedding his human form and arriving in this world, the habit persisted.
The Dragon Mother could likely only probe his inner monologues.
As a dragon unable to speak human languages, he struggled to distinguish when he was truly thinking and when he was merely talking to himself. Only through repeated testing did he finally discern the pattern.
With this understanding, Zhuogeng no longer feared the Dragon Mother discovering his secrets. As long as he made a conscious effort to curb his habit of talking to himself, she would be unable to probe anything beyond his surface thoughts.
But it was much easier said than done. For the past two nights, he had been practicing meditation on a tree branch, surrounded by darkness under the vast, moonlit, starlit sky.
He had nothing to say in the face of such natural beauty, but in crowded places or when confronted with certain situations, he couldn't help but grumble or voice his opinions.
*Ugh... this damn habit of mine!* Zhuogeng couldn't help but sigh, helpless against it. All he could do was try his best to keep that mouth in his heart in check.
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