Sixty-six strikes sounded like a lot, but the time passed by in the blink of an eye.
When Shen Zheng landed the final palm strike, Wen Zhuo could no longer feel any sharp pain. All that was left was a swelling, searing heat that spread across his skin like boiling water.
Yet the overwhelming embarrassment crashed over him like towering waves, stealing his breath away.
After two lifetimes spanning more than twenty years, Director Wen, who had spent years immersed in the teachings of the sages, had ended up committing such a ridiculous act that defied all rites and principles.
Shen Zheng lifted him up into his arms in a bridal carry. The tense fingers that Wen Zhuo had fisted in his clothes finally loosened, and the hem of his robe, marked with the creases from his tight grip, fell to cover that burning, reddened patch of skin.
But he still felt utterly mortified, wishing he could tuck his entire head inside his official robes. The long black hair that fell to his waist swayed like a tiny silk cape, offering him a thin, false layer of cover. He hid behind that curtain of strands, trying desperately to shield the last shreds of his already tattered dignity.
In front of Shen Zheng, he had no cards left to play. The most humiliating state he had ever been in had been laid bare for Shen Zheng to see.
Shen Zheng saw that he had pushed the other man to the point of silent tears, and a sliver of conscience finally pricked at him, softening his heart.
He guided Wen Zhuo to straddle his lap, face to face, and patted his back gently with his palm, whispering, "What did it feel like? Do you remember it now?"
Those words seemed to flip a switch inside Wen Zhuo. He squirmed sharply in Shen Zheng's hold, pushing at the other man's shoulders with both hands as he tried to pull himself up and away.
Just as he was about to yank his trousers back up and storm off in a huff, Shen Zheng's voice dropped low and sharp. "Your Highness is asking his teacher. Do you remember?"
Wen Zhuo's movements froze on the spot. After a moment of silence, he set aside his stubborn defiance, and replied in a subdued, obedient tone, "I remember..."
Shen Zheng thought to himself, this feudal little cat really has been steeped in the rituals of sovereign and subject his whole life. He is so ashamed and furious that his temper is practically bursting through his skull, but the moment their statuses are emphasized, he goes soft all over.
He pulled the brocade quilt at the side to wrap around Wen Zhuo, then leaned down to kiss his damp eyelashes. "Good boy. Then today's punishment is over."
"Thank you... Your Highness." Wen Zhuo was still too flustered to lift his head, his lips pressed into a tight, taut line.
Shen Zheng thought his wronged, long-suffering look was unbearably endearing, and he couldn't help but chuckle. He slipped his hand under the brocade quilt, sliding it up under the hem of Wen Zhuo's robes, and rested his palm on the still burning skin there, rubbing it gently to soothe him. His voice was low and warm as he said, "I didn't hit you that hard. It's just bright red, that's all."
"...Your Highness's hands are covered in calluses, and your palm is so broad." Wen Zhuo leaned against his chest, voicing a subtle, unspoken complaint.
"That's true. So don't ever do that kind of thing again." Shen Zheng patted the spot lightly, a playful glint in his tone. "In later generations, when two people are married, you belong to me and I belong to you. If you deliberately hurt yourself, you're damaging shared marital property, and you'd have to be taken in for criticism and education."
Wen Zhuo lifted his gaze slightly, his eyes full of confusion.
Shen Zheng deliberately put on a stern face to tease him. "You'd even have to write a guarantee letter. If it's not written well enough, I won't let you leave. And once you finish it, you'd have to stand in front of a big crowd and read it out loud, saying 'I will never again make my husband worry'."
Wen Zhuo frowned, looking half skeptical and half believing.
Shen Zheng pinched his chin, feigning a serious look. "What are you staring at?"
Wen Zhuo couldn't hold back his question any longer. "...Does the military garrison in later generations even handle these sorts of things? Wouldn't the imperial court's payroll run out of funds? There's no way the Great Qian Dynasty could afford that, that's for sure."
Shen Zheng had not expected him to find a flaw in his story from that angle, and he burst out laughing. He leaned down and nipped playfully at the tip of Wen Zhuo's nose. "The Great Qian might not have enough hands to manage all its common people, but we have more than enough to keep the willful Crown Princess in line."
The words "Crown Princess" made Wen Zhuo's eyelashes flutter wildly, and his eyes darted around everywhere, too flustered to meet Shen Zheng's gaze.
Shen Zheng kept one hand rubbing the spot behind Wen Zhuo, while the other lifted his chin. He captured Wen Zhuo's lips in a kiss, his breath burning hot. "My Crown Princess."
Wen Zhuo was so lost in the kiss that he had no idea when he had wrapped his arms around Shen Zheng's waist, his hands hooking around the hard leather of Shen Zheng's belt, his breathing growing more and more ragged.
The inner chamber was completely quiet. The sun had just started to slant westward, and the noisy gray sparrows outside the window had fallen silent. For a very long time, Director Wen's undergarments and official trousers remained unfastened, left pulled down around his thighs.
As the end of the year drew near, the imperial court was stable, and all affairs ran smoothly.
Five days later, on the day of the routine imperial court assembly, Emperor Shunyuan suddenly came down with a high fever, and was too sick to get out of bed.
With the New Year festival just around the corner, and a host of important court matters that needed to be discussed urgently, Emperor Shunyuan had no choice but to grant Shen Zheng permission to set up a regent's seat to the east of the imperial dragon throne, and hold court and handle government affairs from the Hall of Martial Valor.
The Master of Ceremonies from the Honglu Temple sang the formal ritual call, and all the civil and military officials responded in unison. Liu Chenming, the Minister of Rites, was the first to step out from the ranks, and addressed Shen Zheng in a memorial. "Your Highness, the triennial national civil service examination is coming next February. The Ministry of Rites plans to work with the Shuntian Prefecture to prepare all arrangements for the Gongyuan Examination Hall. We will need the Ministry of Revenue to allocate silver funds for all related expenses."
Shen Zheng vaguely remembered from the historical records that most of the batch of talented scholars selected in this imperial examination had never gotten the chance to give full play to their abilities during the reign of Shengde, so much so that they had barely left any trace of their names in history.
It wouldn't be fair to say that this group of people were all mediocre and incompetent. To be perfectly frank, when Shen Chen ascended the throne, he did have the ambition to do great things, but he was ruthless and cruel, and lacked the necessary ability and vision.
He had once tried to pass reform decrees to these newly promoted poor scholars from common backgrounds, nurturing them as his own trusted aides to reshape the structure of the court, but he had run into layers of obstruction, and in the end, his reforms could not move forward.
The only way he could get important policies to deliver results quickly was to hand the key tasks over to Xie Langyang and other talented scholars from powerful aristocratic families.
Shen Chen had always craved instant, visible achievements, so he became more and more dependent on the power of the aristocratic clans. In the end, it was impossible to tell whether he was being coerced by the aristocratic families, or if they had become mutually reliant, tied together in a symbiotic relationship that neither could break free from.
That was the very reason Xie Langyang had been able to become a renowned, accomplished senior official in the dynasty. At its core, it was all thanks to the endless support from the powerful clan behind him.
But selecting talented people to serve the country was a top priority, no matter the era. Shen Zheng was also looking forward to seeing this group of underappreciated poor scholars, who had been failed by history, step onto a completely different path in their lives.
So he turned to look at Gu Weizhi. "The Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of Rites will draft a detailed budget and submit it to me. Don't be stingy with the funds for these talented people."
Gu Weizhi promptly bowed in acknowledgement. "This subject shall obey your order."
Liu Chenming had served under Shen Zhen in his early years. Later, when Luo Mingpu followed Gong Zhiyuan to defect to Shen Chen, Liu Chenming had read the situation accurately, and quietly aligned himself with Gu Weizhi. Now that Shen Zheng was acting as regent, Gu Weizhi was deeply trusted and relied upon, and it was clear that Liu Chenming's move had been a very wise one.
Liu Chenming continued his memorial. "Your Highness, since the civil service examination is approaching, I request that the Hanlin Academy draw up the scope of the exam questions as soon as possible, and select a person of high virtue, prestige, and outstanding literary talent to serve as the chief examiner, so as to uphold proper examination conduct and reassure all the scholars across the realm."
After he finished speaking, he glanced subtly in the direction of the Crown Prince's three tutors.
In his heart, he favored Lan Jianghe. Lan Jianghe held no real political power, and he did not come from an aristocratic clan. He was a great Confucian scholar who had walked out of a remote mountain village, and his reputation was universally praised.
Moreover, Lan Jianghe only had one son, who had married a princess. According to the dynasty's regulations, that meant his son was no longer eligible to hold a position in the court, so Lan Jianghe had no motives to form factions for personal gain. He was the most impartial candidate to be chief examiner.
On top of that, Lan Jianghe was the most senior in age, had written countless scholarly works in his lifetime, and his knowledge and prestige were admired by all under heaven. He perfectly matched the expectations that the scholars had for a chief examiner.
Liu Chenming was still weighing the matter over in his mind, when his eyes swept over Wen Zhuo. He noticed that Wen Zhuo, standing at the very front of all the officials, had his head slightly bowed, and his expression was shockingly cold and somber, even more frigid than the winter air.
A jolt of panic shot through Liu Chenming's heart. Could it be that Director Wen also wanted to take the position of chief examiner?
Had he accidentally overlooked Wen Zhuo just now, when he only mentioned the phrase "high in virtue and prestige"?
Liu Chenming silently cursed his own carelessness, his heart thrumming with quiet unease, when Shen Zheng spoke up. "This matter concerns the selection of talented individuals across the realm, so I cannot make arbitrary decisions on my own. The Ministry of Rites shall draw up a shortlist of candidates, have the Supervisor of Ceremonies present it to Father for his perusal, and await His Majesty's final say."
Liu Chenming still could not resist sneaking a glance at Wen Zhuo, his mind wandering off into random thoughts until he drifted off for a moment, only responding hastily, "This subject shall obey the edict."
After that, a string of other officials stepped forward to report on unrelated matters. One such matter was that Consort Zhen, distraught over Emperor Shunyuan's serious illness, wished to dispatch an imperial envoy to the five famous mountains and ancient temples to draw fortune sticks and pray for blessings, to extend the emperor's life and ward off misfortune.
This was a directive from the imperial consort, no approval from Shen Zheng was needed, he only needed to be aware of it.
When the court session adjourned, all civil and military officials bowed to offer their well-wishes for the emperor's health. Just as the ritual was wrapping up, Shen Zheng suddenly spoke, his tone carrying a hint of profound meaning: "Director Wen, come with me to the Eastern Palace. I have matters to discuss with you."
Liu Chenming clearly caught the almost imperceptible tremor that ran through Wen Zhuo's spine, even as he remained in the bowing position.
Liu Chenming began to mull over the crown prince's intentions. The emperor had assigned three tutors to the crown prince in total, yet the crown prince clearly valued Wen Zhuo the most, summoning him to the Eastern Palace for deliberations far more often than the other two. It was almost certain that Wen Zhuo would land the position of Chief Grand Secretary in the future.
With that thought, he felt even more that he had acted too rashly earlier, and silently lamented his bad luck. Once all the other officials had dispersed, he quickened his pace to catch up with Wen Zhuo, calling out with a pained expression, "Director Wen, please hold up a moment!"
Wen Zhuo's brows furrowed slightly as he turned around. His gaze was cool and clear, his entire aura radiating a cold distance that kept others at arm's length. "What is it?"
Liu Chenming's heart sank, he knew he had truly offended the man!
He quickly feigned nonchalance, forcing a bright smile onto his face. "Director Wen, you look a bit out of sorts today. Did you run into some sort of trouble?"
Wen Zhuo's lips pressed into a sharp, firm line, and he replied faintly, "Nothing of the sort."
Liu Chenming grumbled inwardly, Nothing? The man looks as if he was carved from ice and jade, cold air practically spilling off him, he might as well have written "I'm upset" across his face!
Wracked with anxiety, Liu Chenming tried to remedy the situation. "Actually, I didn't get to finish my words back in the hall. The post of chief examiner doesn't necessarily have to go to someone advanced in years and full of virtue. Young, promising talents are perfectly suitable too, the key is to assess their true knowledge and real ability..."
"It matters not who becomes the chief examiner." Wen Zhuo cut him off, appearing completely uninterested in the matter, his brows still unrelaxed. "The Hanlin Academy is only responsible for drafting the exam questions. All other matters have nothing to do with me."
With that, he straightened his back, turned on his heel with a cold look on his face and walked away. His strides seemed steady, yet carried a hint of unseemly hastiness.
Liu Chenming stared at his receding back, his face crumpling into a bitter frown.
These Hanlin Academy scholars are all so full of guile, he thought. They crave the chief examiner post so badly yet play the lofty, aloof act, waiting for people to beg them three or four times, and only when the title is placed right in their palms will they slowly say something like "I suppose I cannot refuse such a kind gesture".
And the most beautiful Hanlin Academy chief of all has the most cunning mind of them all!
Wen Zhuo walked out of the Hall of Martial Valor, and the cold wind that blew head-on against his face did nothing to dispel the rising heat under his skin. The calm demeanor he had maintained all morning was on the verge of crumbling.
As he stepped down the white marble steps, he felt his legs trembling faintly. He could not help but press his sweat-dampened palm surreptitiously against his backside.
That second letter was a full ninety characters long!
Why on earth had he written so much back then?
When he reached the Eastern Palace, sure enough, Huang Ting was waiting in the courtyard, a look of earnest smile on his face as he greeted him with a bow. "His Highness has sent all of us out again. He must be meaning to discuss confidential state matters with you, Director Wen."
"Yes." Wen Zhuo took a deep breath, doing his utmost to keep his composure on the surface, and steeled himself to step into the Duanben Studio. The moment he crossed the threshold, the rich scent of ink mixed with storax incense wafted over him.
"Teacher, you were lost in thought the entire time back in the grand hall. What were you thinking about?" Shen Zheng was the first to speak, idly toying with a wolf-hair brush in his hand, his deep, dark eyes slanting towards Wen Zhuo.
A glint of wit flickered in Wen Zhuo's eyes, his gaze glimmering like rippling water. He slowly reached out his fingers to hook the jade belt at Shen Zheng's waist, giving it a light tug. "I was thinking about Your Highness."
Shen Zheng was clad in the crown prince's exclusive crimson nine-pattern ceremonial robe, his hair secured with a golden hairpin, a jade belt cinching his waist, pendants and ribbons hanging down, setting off his tall, straight figure and awe-inspiring regal bearing.
He glanced down at Wen Zhuo's fingers, let out a low chuckle, then reached out to pinch Wen Zhuo's chin, forcing him to lift his head, before brushing a light kiss against his lips. "Let's get this done quickly. You still need to go back to the Hanlin Academy to draft the exam questions, after all."
"..."
Wen Zhuo could clearly see the determined resolve in his eyes, and knew that soft, pleading words would not work. He promptly switched tactics, yanking his fingers free and lifting the hem of his robes to dash for the door.
But Wen Zhuo had always been extremely particular about his poise and bearing, he had never once broken into a full, unrefined run in his life. As a result, his steps stumbled, and before he could even reach the door, a tight grip coiled around his waist. Shen Zheng lifted him easily, slinging him securely over his shoulder, and landed a crisp, resounding slap.
"Mn!"
Wen Zhuo's face flushed bright red in an instant. He struggled to jump down from his hold, only to hear Shen Zheng's low laugh as he spoke slowly, each word clear: "What did that second letter of yours say again? 'I suddenly recall that day, Your Highness's lips and tongue were burning hot, you bound my hands, and stripped away my pretense of decorum.' Look at how eager you made yourself sound, teacher. Of course I have to fulfill your wish."
"Your Highness, please spare your tutor..." Wen Zhuo's face burned with shame at the memory of his own honeyed, coaxing words, and his struggling movements came to a halt at once. He only called out to him softly, the tail end of his sentence trailing off in a plaintive, aggrieved whine.
Shen Zheng knew all too well how cunning the Director Wen could be, and did not fall for his tricks at all. Carrying him over to the desk, he said, "You've always complained that my calligraphy is ugly. We don't have much time today, so why not do two things at once? You can use that second letter as the text to create a calligraphy model for me to practice copying."
Wen Zhuo lifted his gaze to look at the desk. The four treasures of the study were all neatly arranged there, the ink thick and mellow, the wolf-hair brush already dampened, and the note he had written earlier was pressed down under a paperweight, every character clear and distinct.
Wen Zhuo's eyes narrowed with suspicion as he studied it carefully. His intuition told him this was absolutely no good idea.
Sure enough, Shen Zheng set him down gently, then undid the jade belt from his own waist. He flipped Wen Zhuo's wrists over, stacking one atop the other, and bound them together securely yet carefully with the glossy white jade belt.
"!"
Wen Zhuo's wrists were naturally slender and supple, wrapped in the luminous jade belt they looked even more flawless, tugging at the heartstrings in the most enticing way.
"Your hands are tied now. Time to strip away that pretense of decorum." Shen Zheng leaned down to kiss the back of his neck, then pressed his palm against his back, giving a light push that bent Wen Zhuo over the round table.
The hard edge of the table pressed right against his lower abdomen, pushing his hips up naturally. "You can write your calligraphy while you take your punishment. The characters have to be neat and beautiful, otherwise if my other two tutors see my poor practice, they will think it is your poor teaching that is to blame."
Wen Zhuo was draped over the round table, his bound hands just barely within reach of the wolf-hair brush on the brush rack. He stared at the snow-white sheet of xuan paper before him, his eyes darting around rapidly, wishing he could instantly find a crack in the ground to hide himself away.
In the blink of an eye, his court trousers and undergarments were tugged down to his knees, his vermilion official robe pushed up to his waist, baring the plump, round curve of his backside, skin smooth and glowing like dewy cream.
Shen Zheng fondly kneaded the soft flesh a couple of times, the calluses on his palm grazing over the delicate skin, before he lifted his hand and brought it down with a sharp snap. The rounded flesh jolted, flushed a rich, vivid rose.
Wen Zhuo's fingers curled uselessly, the brush in his hand shaking so badly he could not lay down a single proper character, only leaving a lopsided smudge of ink across the paper.
He was so overwhelmed by shame and anger that tears welled up, and he sobbed out his accusations in a trembling, tearful voice.
"Your Highness is hateful!"
"Your Highness, you are going too far!"
"Your tutor swears, I will never let you catch me with any handle over me ever again!"
"Shen Zheng, you... you scoundrel!"
Shen Zheng listened with complete unapologetic ease, giving the other a couple of soothing, reassuring strokes to offer a moment of reprieve, before his palm came down again, one crisp, sharp smack following right after another.
