"Lord Cheng, why do you treat me this way?"
Cao Mao had someone bring over a folding stool and place it before Cheng Ji. He studied him closely, unable to resist asking.
Cheng Ji kept a stony face and said nothing.
Now, once again, Cao Mao had no familiar faces around him.
The four newly arrived Palace Eunuchs no longer dared openly record his every word and deed, and kept their distance at all times.
Of the two Yellow Gate officials, one was named Sima Hui and the other Sima Che. He had heard that both were distant relatives of the Sima Family, probably beyond the five degrees of mourning kinship. Otherwise, they would hardly have ended up serving as his Yellow Gate officials.
These two treated Cao Mao reasonably amiably.
But Cheng Ji, the newly appointed head of the Imperial Guards, said nothing, despite having known Cao Mao before.
Even the way he looked at Cao Mao was very different.
Cao Mao felt that this was not how someone looked at a person. It was how someone looked at prey.
They had only been apart for so long. How had Lord Cheng already come to regard him as prey?
Cheng Ji said coldly, "Your Majesty, I dare not say much."
"Hahaha! Lord Cheng, what a mighty warrior you are! You once personally taught me martial arts. How could you now dare not say much?"
Cheng Ji resumed his stony expression and ignored Cao Mao.
But Cao Mao saw it clearly: this fellow had plainly received instructions from Sima Zhao.
When Sima Shi had come that day, he had already looked to be in terrible shape, with his left eye bandaged. Unless Cao Mao was mistaken, the fellow must have gone under the knife, just as he had in history.