"Where have I wronged myself?" Shen Zheng spoke with apparent nonchalance, his breath already brushing right against the tip of Wen Zhuo's nose.
Wen Zhuo quickly lifted a hand, intending to press it against Shen Zheng's chest to put some distance between them, but halfway through the motion, he restrained himself and let his hand fall, curling his fingers back into the hem of his own robe as he murmured softly, "Your Highness..."
"I have already made my position clear to my maternal grandfather, warned my uncle and my mother, and reprimanded Gu Weizhi and Huang Ting. The only person I never brought this up to was you, my teacher, since you were ill," Shen Zheng's voice landed right against his heart, every word heavy with seriousness. "Now that everyone outside has been sent away, no one else can hear us. You are going to explain this thoroughly, otherwise I will drag everyone in here to listen to you lay your feelings bare before them all."
"..."
Just the thought of being the center of all those eyes, of having every person present listen to him pour out his truest thoughts, made Wen Zhuo burn with shame and embarrassment.
A nearly inaudible breathy sound slipped from his throat. "This teacher..."
"This teacher should not have foolishly tried to deceive Your Highness. While you were away in Jinhai, I deliberately stepped into the scheme myself to lure Xie Langyang into the trap. First, I did not want to drag Your Highness into this and make you a target of the Emperor's suspicion. Second, I did not want Your Highness to learn about the Late Mountain Fu and start asking me about the past..."
Even now, he could not figure out how Shen Zheng had uncovered his plan.
He had full faith in the defensive arrangements of the Three Elite Battalions and the Five City Garrison Command—there was no way Xie Langyang's scouts could have reached Jinhai.
Even if Xie Langyang had spread rumors that ordinary civilians passed along to Jinhai, the news never should have traveled that fast.
He had gone over every detail again and again, and the plan had seemed completely flawless!
"Judging by the look on your face, you are not reflecting on your mistake—you are trying to figure out what loophole exposed you, so you can perfect your scheme next time?" Shen Zheng raised an eyebrow, his fingers pinching Wen Zhuo's earlobe in a teasing, frivolous gesture.
"That is not it..." Wen Zhuo set aside all his usual sharp wit, his clear, luminous eyes locking directly on Shen Zheng. He lifted both arms to wrap around Shen Zheng's waist, pressing his face tightly against the side of Shen Zheng's neck.
Shen Zheng accepted the hug easily, amused to himself. What a clever shortcut he had found—he had learned right away to use affection to dodge trouble.
He lifted a hand to stroke Wen Zhuo's back. The deep red official robe was made of fine, luxurious fabric, smooth and cool to the touch. After a few strokes, his tone turned solemn. "Wanshan, as the Director of the Hanlin Academy, you have read through all the classics and histories, and you know full well the rules that have governed sovereigns and their ministers through every dynasty. Since ancient times, a supporting minister has always reported every matter first, putting the Crown Prince's interests above all else. This time, you rallied everyone around you to secretly plan this major affair, and deliberately shut me out. Tell me yourself—was that the right thing to do?"
Shen Zheng paused for a moment, his fingers brushing and rubbing gently at the back of Wen Zhuo's neck. "If you had ambitions to act as regent, you could have shared that with me. I might very well have agreed to it."
The words exploded right next to Wen Zhuo's ear. His body went rigid all at once, and the arms he had wrapped around Shen Zheng's waist flew apart.
Shen Zheng was right. His actions had violated the proper conduct of a court minister. When he was making his plans, he had let his personal motives carry him away, and had relied too much on Shen Zheng's fondness for him to dare to act so recklessly.
He had always thought himself brilliant, clear-headed in observing every matter, but he too had been so close to the situation that he had lost all sense of propriety.
Wen Zhuo pulled himself free from Shen Zheng's embrace, his eyes downcast as he gently lifted the hem of his robe and sank to his knees. "Your Highness, this teacher... knows he was wrong."
His fine, soft eyelashes hung low like homing birds folding their wings, his red lips pressed gently together, looking utterly vulnerable and endearing. Even in this humble, bowed posture, he was like a jade freshly unearthed, a finely carved gem—his noble glow could not be hidden.
Shen Zheng did not tell him to stand up right away, as he had done during the court hearing that day. He simply looked at him intently, his fingers sliding from the back of Wen Zhuo's neck to his jaw, tilting his chin up little by little to make him look directly at him. He smiled and said, "Do not rush to admit your mistake. There is more."
Wen Zhuo held his neck upright, the line from his jaw to the hollow of his throat drawn like a graceful, taut string, his spine and knees aligned perfectly straight. His clear, handsome features were filled with confusion.
What else?
"Did I... frame Your Highness in my past life?" he asked tentatively.
"I told you already, I do not care about the events of your past life."
"Did I write the Late Mountain Fu for Xie Langyang?"
Shen Zheng thought for a moment. "That is worth caring about, yes, but it is not the main point today."
Wen Zhuo pondered for a long moment again, while Shen Zheng's fingers brushed lightly, almost imperceptibly, over the corner of his lips.
His eyelashes fluttered, and he turned his head slightly, deliberately pressing his lips against Shen Zheng's fingers. The calloused pad of Shen Zheng's thumb rubbed over the peak of his lip, and his voice softened. "Please, Your Highness, show me what I have missed."
Wen Zhuo's lips were soft and warm, and the sensation sent a pleasant jolt through Shen Zheng's chest.
Shen Zheng was thoroughly enjoying this, so he stopped teasing him. "I once told you that if you deliberately hurt yourself, I would settle the score properly. I was not joking about that. You cut your own hand to trick Mo Shu, and I have chosen not to pursue that for now. But do you have any idea what I felt when I got the news that you had been locked in the imperial prison for days?"
He was a man who had lived through later times, who had seen how everything ended. The Dali Temple prison, the joint trial of the Three Judicial Offices—those things were a nightmare he could never shake off.
From Jinhai all the way back to the capital, he had ridden nonstop, galloping day and night without rest. He had fallen off his horse twice from sheer exhaustion, his body covered in bruises and cuts that ached terribly...
But all that physical pain had been nothing compared to the agony of those two lines in the message he had received, nothing compared to the terror of worrying that Wen Zhuo was being tortured.
He was so very, very much in the wrong.
Wen Zhuo frowned, stealing a quick, furtive glance at Shen Zheng's expression, still clinging to a sliver of hope. "What... what kind of settlement does Your Highness have in mind?"
Shen Zheng was broad-minded, Shen Zheng had an excellent temper—surely Shen Zheng would go easy on him.
He was comforting himself with that thought when he heard Shen Zheng speak in a calm, even tone. "Our dynasty's Eastern Palace Regulations state that the Crown Prince's Three Tutors are permitted to use a discipline ruler to 'instruct the heir apparent and correct his conduct.' To be fair and just, since my teacher has made a mistake, he should also be punished according to that rule. But since you are so busy with affairs in the Cabinet and the Hanlin Academy, we will not punish your hands. We will choose another spot instead."
Wen Zhuo stared at Shen Zheng blankly, his mind going completely empty. He did not even react when Shen Zheng lifted him up into his arms.
Not his hands... then where?
Shen Zheng carried him over to the desk, picked up the amber long spoon, and waved it through the air a couple of times. The edge of the spoon cut through the air, making soft swishing sounds.
Ever since he had bought the spoon, he had been worried he would not be able to control his strength, so he had practiced swinging it over the palm of his own hand many times.
Wen Zhuo never knew the full secret of that spoon. The shopkeeper had told him once that the true purpose of the object was not to spank the buttocks, but to strike the sensitive, tender spot at the top of the thighs, a place that stirred the most unruly, flustered feelings.
He would use that spoon eventually—but not today.
Wen Zhuo tensed up all over as he heard the swishing sound. Shen Zheng was holding him high up in his arms, so that he was almost draped over Shen Zheng's shoulder. The slightest sway made the black hairpin holding his topknot slip off, and half his hair came undone.
He quickly reached out to grab hold of Shen Zheng's back, fully aware that trouble was right around the corner. His mind felt like a broken string, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. "Your Highness... where are you going to punish me?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he heard Shen Zheng let out a soft laugh. Then a warm palm landed over the plumpest, most humiliating part of his body.
Wen Zhuo squeezed his eyes shut tight, his ears burning bright red. His fingers curled into the back of Shen Zheng's robe, not daring to grip too hard, but not daring to let go either. He tugged at the fabric gently, over and over, like he was clinging to a single strand of straw to save himself, his voice trembling with panic.
"This teacher knows he was wrong! Your Highness, please do not hit me!"
Shen Zheng let him tug at his clothes, lifting Wen Zhuo a little higher in his arms and carefully avoiding the jade and gold belt around his waist. His tone was still gentle, but unyielding. "I have to."
With that, he carried Wen Zhuo toward the soft couch in the inner room.
Wen Zhuo's black hair fell in loose strands against his cheek, so overcome with embarrassment that he wished a crack would open in the ground to swallow him whole. He pressed his wrist against Shen Zheng's shoulder and struggled twice, but could not break free, so he could only let things take their course.
If only he had known this would happen!
If only he had known, he would have gone straight back to his mansion right after leaving court!
Taking advantage of Wen Zhuo's inability to resist, Shen Zheng slid one hand beneath the bright crimson official robe, pushed through the layers of cumbersome fabric, tugged down his formal court trousers, pulled aside his undergarment, and steadily cupped that soft, full curve.
Wen Zhuo had always been a person who feared the cold, but the moment Shen Zheng's burning palm pressed against him, his tailbone went numb for an instant.
"Does the teacher still remember the first note you wrote to me?"
Wen Zhuo's mind was a total blur, the tips of his ears scalding hot, and what came out was a pleading murmur, "Your Highness, don't hit..."
"You wrote that you longed to rest against my knees, at once moved by the celestial patterns, and then stirred by the feelings below your belly." Shen Zheng repeated the words from the note, patting his hip lightly, "Then I shall grant the teacher's wish, and punish you over my knees."
Wen Zhuo felt as if he was hearing a hallucination. His eyes flew wide open, and the literati sense of honor he had always held dear felt as if it had been dealt a heavy blow, swaying unsteadily. All the books and ancient classics he had spent his whole life studying turned into a small boat meant to carry him through hardship, only for that boat to capsize right in the middle of the lake.
The world spun for a moment, and the next thing he knew, Shen Zheng was already seated properly on a bright yellow soft couch, while Wen Zhuo was held steady across his lap, his waist bent, his view filled only with the dragon-carved and phoenix-embroidered bed bedding.
Just a moment ago, he had been standing in the imperial court in his official robes. Before he stepped through this door, he was still the respected Director of the Hanlin Academy in the eyes of all the court officials, one of the Crown Prince's Three Tutors. But in just a few moments, he had become a person lying prone over someone's lap, here to receive punishment.
Shen Zheng held his slender, resilient waist, and said unhurriedly, "That reply you wrote was sixty-six characters long. So today, you will receive sixty-six strokes. Five days from now, we will come back to settle the score for the second note. The thought of how rigid and reserved the teacher usually is, only to be so bold and passionate when you tricked me, makes me not want to let your quick wit go to waste."
"You are the one who made me write more! You are the one who said my reply couldn't be shorter than yours!" In his urgency, Wen Zhuo even forgot to address him as Your Highness.
Who was it that pestered him for a reply back then? Who was it that complained his writing was too short? Now he was using the word count as an excuse to punish him, it was simply too unfair!
"I also told you not to keep things from me. Why didn't you listen?" Shen Zheng's voice deepened a little, and his palm came down. Even through a thin layer of soft fabric, the crisp sound of the slap was still sharp to the ears.
Wen Zhuo's whole body shuddered abruptly. It wasn't that the pain was so unbearable, but the sheer embarrassment shot straight to the top of his head, so much so that even the skin under his official robe was flushed bright red.
Too ashamed to show his face, he simply lifted his two wide sleeves and covered his face tightly, acting like a foolish person covering his ears to steal a bell.
But Shen Zheng would not let him get away with it. He kept his palm pressed against that spot without moving, and said in a teasing, pointed tone, "The robes are in the way. The teacher should lift them up himself. If I can't see that full, pert shape, the strokes won't count."
The moment those words left his mouth, the last trace of Wen Zhuo's dignified literati composure shattered completely. He twisted his head around sharply, tears welling up in his eyes. He knew full well that he was in the wrong, yet he was filled with nothing but aggrievement and grievance. He tucked his ears down and mumbled softly, "Your Highness, you are really... a scoundrel!"
This look on him was so vivid, so pitiful, and so unbearably endearing. If this matter hadn't been about a matter of principle, Shen Zheng would have softened long ago, pulled him into his arms, wrapped him in the blankets, and soothed him carefully, kissing the wetness from the tips of his lashes.
Shen Zheng hardened his heart and said, "You feel ashamed? Good. Next time you do something like this, it will be even more embarrassing for you."
Even the most proud and reserved person, when driven to the end of their rope, would set aside their dignity and become unreasonable.
Wen Zhuo reached his hands back, his cool fingers tangling around Shen Zheng's wrist, his fingertips rubbing against the thin callus on his palm in a fawning, pleading way. "Your Highness, spare me just this once."
"Your undergarment is already pulled down. If you don't lift the robes yourself, you will just stay there lying like that." Shen Zheng would not be moved. "I already told Huang Ting and the others that we will not be disturbed for an hour."
Wen Zhuo withdrew his hand dejectedly, and resorted to putting on a pitiful face, tears glistening on his cheeks. The hairpin that had been holding his topknot had fallen out at some point, and his long black hair was now completely loose, curling over his shoulders and back.
"This humble teacher is afraid of pain..."
"Mn, but my heart aches just as much." Shen Zheng brushed the strands of hair stuck to his cheek aside gently, completely unmoved by his pleas.
In the end, Wen Zhuo bit his lower lip, curled his toes, shakily reached his hands down to the hem of his lower robe, and slowly lifted it upwards.
Every inch he moved it felt as if a small flame was licking across his skin, leaving a trail of burning heat. When he pulled it up to his waist, the cool air hit his backside, leaving nothing hidden from view.
He buried his face and refused to move any further, the knuckles of his hands clenched until they were pale white. Before he could even catch his breath, the wind of a slap came crashing down. His flesh jolted with the impact, and that soft, pointed curve immediately bloomed into a rosy red.
Outside the window, all was quiet. Only a few gray sparrows chirped softly among the cold winter branches, now and then hopping onto the windowsill, flapping their wings and pecking at the paper window, as if peeking at his utterly unscholarly, disgraceful state and making fun of him.
He suppressed his soft whimpers deep in his throat, gritted his teeth, and pressed his ears hard against the bedding, trying to block out the sound of the slaps.
But Shen Zheng was unreasonable.
Shen Zheng was too much.
Shen Zheng was utterly incomprehensible.
Shen Zheng was bullying his own tutor.
Shen Zheng was unpardonable.
Shen Zheng moved his palm very slowly. After every single slap, he would say a word of reminder.
"I am your Crown Prince, and I am also your lover. Yet you, teacher, always tried to keep things hidden from me."
"I thought you were not very afraid of pain, otherwise you would never have been cruel enough to throw yourself into prison. But now it seems, you are very afraid of being humiliated."
"How does it feel, being spanked across your prince's lap? Will you ever stop treating your own life so carelessly again?"
Wen Zhuo trembled faintly, trying to squirm away, shifting and struggling on that small patch of space, thinking he could escape far away, not knowing that his effort was as futile as an ant trying to shake a tree.
Shen Zheng pressed down on his spine, kneading the burning hot skin there to soothe it slightly, then raised his palm again. Every single slap landed right on that most sensitive, shameful spot.
He said with a hint of amusement, "The teacher's soft, round curves are so delicate. Every slap makes you jolt, and the skin flushes red right after. A couple more hits and it will be burning hot, as bright as the wick of a candle. Can you take all sixty-six strokes?"
"The second note was ninety characters long. What will you do next time?"
Hearing his words, Wen Zhuo's nose stung even more. He cursed inwardly, this later generation was such a barbarian! His Highness was so detestable!
But what came out was a muffled, quiet response, "No more next time... I dare not do it again."
Shen Zheng glanced at him sideways. "A gentleman keeps his word. I said ten notes total, so it will be ten notes."
