After Shen Zheng ascended the throne, the remaining princes all lived in fear, trembling from dawn to dusk.
They became especially anxious after hearing that Shen Chen had been pierced by a volley of arrows and died a violent death at Meridian Gate. Their own futures now seemed even more uncertain.
To be fair, each of these princes had, to some extent, plotted against Shen Zheng, pushed him aside, or otherwise wronged him.
Since ancient times, the victor had been king and the vanquished had been criminals. Once in power, taking revenge on one’s brothers was only to be expected.
Yet half a year had passed since the new emperor’s accession, and he showed no sign of settling old scores. Only then did Shen Ting and Shen He finally allow their long-suspended hearts to sink a little.
Shen Ting had truly come to understand life.
Once he let go of his need to compete and prove himself, he discovered that the road ahead was broad and peaceful. He no longer had to live in constant fear, nor shoulder burdens weighing a thousand jin. Even the disability in his leg had gradually become something he was accustomed to. It no longer offended his eyes, nor did it humiliate him.
Sometimes, as he sat lost in thought, he could no longer remember where that mad desire to seize the throne had come from.
Perhaps it was because Shen Zhen and Shen Bi had mocked him as a cripple from childhood. Perhaps it was because the eunuchs and palace maids had treated him with outward respect while secretly looking down on him. He had believed that only by climbing to the highest seat could he trample beneath his feet those who had despised him, and win the respect and admiration of others.
At that point, Shen Ting no longer wished to think further.
Those were all matters of the distant past. There was no point dredging them up again.
Life was long, full of rises and falls. Those who had once strutted arrogantly through the court were now either confined or banished. And he, after all the twists and turns, had ended up with a peaceful life.
Shen He, meanwhile, had fulfilled his youthful wish and become an idle prince who spent his days eating well, drinking fine wine, and taking no interest in politics.
With good wine in hand and beautiful companions at his side, he lived in comfort. Yet whenever he gazed at the vermilion walls and glazed roofs of the Forbidden City, an inexplicable emptiness welled up inside him, as though something were missing.
He had grown up within that walled city and knew every corner of it. He hated the place that pressed down on people until they could hardly breathe. He hated the layers of palace walls that caged people like birds.
But only after escaping did he realize that his childhood and his past—all the good and the bad—were things he could never return to.
He had no impression of his birth mother. The very image he associated with the word “mother” had been given to him by Li Rouzhen.
But Li Rouzhen was now Dowager Consort Zhen, living deep within the palace and rarely venturing out. For him to see her even once was harder than ascending to heaven.
Half a year passed before faint rumors finally began to emerge concerning the campaign to purge the court, which had thrown the government and the people into turmoil.
Only then did Shen He learn that Zhaoyue had been spared a marriage alliance entirely because Shen Zheng had secretly intervened and negotiated on her behalf. It was precisely for this reason that his mother had ultimately taken Shen Zheng’s side and, at the crucial moment, given him the push he needed to secure the throne.
Once he understood this, Shen He was filled with complicated emotions and an indescribable discomfort.
The empress dowager and his mother had once been bitter enemies. What, exactly, had motivated Shen Zheng to extend a helping hand to Zhaoyue?
A princess sent into a foreign land in exchange for peace along the borders—that had been the accepted practice since ancient times. It was only right and proper.
He was Zhaoyue’s brother, after all.
Why was it that, compared with Shen Zheng, he now seemed cold-hearted and callous?
Shen He had spent so long indulging in pleasure that he had eventually grown bored of it. In the quiet of night, he even began to miss the days when his mother had supervised him, restrained him, and scolded him. At least then, there had been someone who expected something of him.
Mustering his courage, he submitted a petition requesting permission to enter the palace and visit his mother and Zhaoyue.
The reply he received was that Dowager Consort Zhen did not wish to see him, while Zhaoyue was too busy with official matters to meet him.
Neither answer was an excuse.
Dowager Consort Zhen truly could not get past the obstacle in her heart. From the bottom of her heart, she did not want to see this son of hers. And Zhaoyue was, indeed, genuinely busy.
Shen Zheng had not kept Zhaoyue confined within the palace to study the rules and etiquette expected of a wife and a mother. Instead, he had allowed her to leave the palace and travel among the people, to see how ordinary women lived and what constraints they endured, and to consider what she, as a princess, could do for them and what she could change.
Some things could never be more than empty words on paper unless one had witnessed them and experienced them firsthand.
Having once nearly been forced into a marriage alliance and knowing what it meant to have no control over one’s own fate, Shen Zheng trusted that she could understand the suffering of women among the common people.
Dowager Consort Zhen was reluctant to let her go. But then she thought of her own life. From childhood, she had been groomed by her family to become a consort offered to the emperor. Half her life had been spent trapped within palace walls, living in fear and without freedom.
She gritted her teeth and agreed.
There should not be a second Li Rouzhen in this world—another woman willing to wear away every sharp edge of herself for the glory of her family.
And she hoped that the person who could personally change all this would be her daughter.
After half a year of recuperation, Liu Kangren entered the palace to pay his respects and requested permission to travel abroad once more—to learn about the cultures of other nations and spread the arts and skills of the four corners of the world, lest Great Qian shut itself away and fall behind.
Seeing that Duke Liu was already advanced in years, Shen Zheng urged him to reconsider. But Liu Kangren replied that he had already persuaded his family. He had spent his life burdened by sin; only by dedicating the remaining years of his life to doing as much good for Great Qian as he could would he be able to find some peace of mind.
Shen Zheng had a general understanding of the world’s political landscape in this era, but he knew only how to apply the foundations laid by those who came before him. He was not well versed in the underlying principles of technology.
Besides, he had always believed that human civilization should progress gradually, and that every step along the road of development was essential. He would not interfere recklessly or attempt to force growth before its time.
Thus, Liu Kangren’s journey remained tremendously significant.
For this reason, Shen Zheng specifically ordered Mo Shu to select a hundred Mohist disciples to accompany Liu Kangren on his mission.
These men were skilled in various crafts and possessed pure, uncorrupted minds. In the future, they would become the foundation of Great Qian’s industrial development—the sparks that would ignite this land.
During those six months, Wen Zhuo had launched sweeping reforms of the tax and tribute systems.
Working together with Gu Weizhi, he had ordered a nationwide survey and measurement of farmland, with new registers compiled and recorded. This would prevent practices such as concealing land under another person’s name or scattering landholdings across multiple records to evade taxes.
He also abolished the privileges that allowed gentry, members of the imperial clan, and hereditary nobles to claim exemptions from taxation. Heavy taxes were imposed on those who had seized and consolidated farmland, forcing them to return it to the people.
With Wen Zhuo and Shen Zheng’s support, Gu Weizhi resolved to issue government-backed paper currency pegged directly to gold, completely eliminating the practice of local officials lining their own pockets under the pretext of collecting “fire-consumption fees.”
Afterward, Wen Zhuo joined forces with Huang Ting of the Ministry of Personnel to decree that the officials responsible for state and prefectural granaries would be transferred once every three years. They were forbidden from remaining in one place for too long and colluding with local officials and wealthy merchants for profit at the expense of the people.
He also ordered the censorate inspectors to select three prefectures or provinces each year and investigate them incognito, rigorously examining any local officials who imposed oppressive policies or harmed the people.
Every new policy struck directly at the interests of powerful nobles, hereditary families, gentry, and local magnates. Implementing the reforms proved exceedingly difficult.
Memorials impeaching Wen Zhuo fell upon Shen Zheng’s desk like snowflakes—
“Your Majesty, I have secretly learned that the Grand Secretary is conceited on account of his achievements and treats his colleagues with contempt. Relying on Your Majesty’s favor and trust, he has grown increasingly autocratic in his conduct. I humbly beg Your Majesty to restrain him somewhat and take precautions against him in advance.”
“Your Majesty, a wealthy merchant in Bozhou has submitted a complaint accusing the Grand Secretary of amassing great wealth and privately confiscating fertile farmland during his tenure there. His actions are entirely at odds with the principles behind the reforms he now so vigorously promotes. I humbly request that, until this case has been thoroughly investigated, Your Majesty temporarily suspend the various reforms in order to reassure the people and calm the dissenting voices throughout the court and the realm.”
“Your Majesty, we members of the Shen imperial clan have long enjoyed the state’s gracious favor and have always held the welfare of the realm close to our hearts. We are willing to devote ourselves entirely to Great Qian and die in its service. Yet now, despite possessing only modest estates, we are to have everything stripped from us, leaving our children and grandchildren with no means of livelihood and no foundation on which to establish themselves. The Grand Secretary has treated our imperial clan with such cruelty that his intentions are truly unfathomable. We humbly beg Your Majesty to exercise enlightened judgment and see the truth clearly, and to stand up for us!”
“Your Majesty, the Liangzhou prefecture has recently captured a vicious criminal from the martial world. Under severe interrogation, he confessed that the Grand Secretary harbors treasonous ambitions. Since ancient times, ministers who grow too powerful have found it easy to become jealous of the throne and give rise to rebellious thoughts. Your Majesty must guard against such a possibility!”
……
When those secret memorials were submitted, Shen Zheng was crouched in the small warming chamber beside the hall, pondering how to make Wen Zhuo a bowl of shaved ice to relieve the summer heat.
The days grew hotter by the hour. With Wen Zhuo’s constitution, he could not bear the cold in winter or the heat in summer; he was exceedingly delicate. On top of that, he spent every day arguing fiercely with others over the new reforms, often becoming so angry that his heart-fire rose.
Shen Zheng felt sorry for him and could only think of something to coax him into a better mood.
He glanced up at the memorials sowing discord, and at last truly understood why reforms had always proceeded with such difficulty, and why most reformers had met with miserable ends.
Had the two of them not possessed wills of iron and unwavering trust in each other, enduring malicious rumors meant to drive them apart day after day would have made it extraordinarily difficult to hold fast to their original convictions and continue trusting one another.
It was a pity that these people knew nothing of the road he and Wen Zhuo had traveled together. Otherwise, they would never have dared use such despicable tricks to shake his heart.
Shen Zheng added a peeled, fresh lychee to the bowl of milk and crushed ice. Without raising his head, he instructed indifferently, “Anyone who submits a memorial sowing discord between Us and the Grand Secretary is to be demoted to Zhangzhou. They can go there and plant crops with My elder brother.”
Shen Zheng still had ways to punish the parasites among the nobility, but he could not silence every local notable, elderly clansman, and street-corner gossipmonger throughout the empire. The slander surrounding Wen Zhuo continued to spread.
The common people were not all clear-sighted. With ill-intentioned men secretly fanning the flames, many truly came to believe that Wen Zhuo would disrupt their peaceful lives.
Even Bozhou, which had once revered Wen Zhuo above all others, was now awash with rumors that he was abusing his power and bringing ruin to the country.
Lu Zhang and the other students of Wen Zhuo saw it all and burned with indignation. Day and night, they bent over their desks composing essays to defend their teacher and restore his good name.
That evening, Wen Zhuo spooned up fruit ice cream, savoring its sweetness as he casually flipped through the slanderous writings spread across the desk.
Each time he finished reading one, he flicked it away with a finger, sending the memorial flying across the room to vent his frustration.
Watching him, Shen Zheng found the sight both amusing and painful. “Teacher, you know reading them will only anger you. Why continue?”
Wen Zhuo crunched the ice between his teeth. “To see how they curse me.”
Shen Zheng moved the memorials aside, then gently lifted Wen Zhuo’s chin, making him look at him. He said seriously, “They may submit memorials cursing you, and I can demote or punish them. But as for rumors among the people, forcing them down will only cause unrest. We can only wait for time to prove the truth. Wanshan, you have exhausted yourself for the sake of the realm, only to be misunderstood. Do you feel wronged?”
Wen Zhuo pressed his lips tightly together. His gaze was stubborn, yet composed. “I do. But this is something only I can do.”
“I am the one Your Majesty loves. Your Majesty trusts me, respects me, and indulges me. Throughout the court and across the realm, no official dares oppose me openly or trip me up in secret. If I oversee the reforms, there will be less resistance and fewer worries. I need not weigh every side or hesitate at every step, nor will I have to alter the new policies beyond recognition out of consideration for the powerful.”
“Throughout history, those who attempted reform were often met with suspicion, and few reformers ever reached a good end. No one has ever enjoyed circumstances such as mine—such authority, such trust. Since I have been fortunate enough to receive this blessing, I cannot occupy a high position in idleness, cannot draw a salary without doing the work, and cannot fail to achieve something that benefits the people and governs the world.”
Shen Zheng was deeply moved. He leaned down and lightly touched his lips to Wen Zhuo’s cool ones. “Good. Wanshan, carry out your reforms boldly.”
Wen Zhuo chased after him and returned the kiss. “Thank you for the frozen dessert, Your Majesty.”
Only then did Shen Zheng set aside the great matters of state. A smile began to gather in his eyes. “Was it sweet?”
Wen Zhuo lightly licked the corner of his lips, still savoring the taste. “What sort of divine place is the future Your Majesty speaks of? How can it have so many kinds of sweets?”
Shen Zheng had been strictly controlled as a child and had rarely been allowed desserts. After growing up, he had developed little interest in them either. Now he regretted it somewhat. He had nearly exhausted all his ideas. How would he coax his darling in the future?
“Come to the couch. I’ll tell Teacher all about the future, slowly.”
The tips of Wen Zhuo’s ears warmed, but he pretended not to hear the deeper meaning in those words.
Ever since the weather had grown hot, Wen Zhuo had felt somewhat disinclined toward lovemaking. Afterward, his entire body would be sticky and uncomfortable, while washing up again and again was simply too troublesome.
Thus, the moment he shed his official robes, he rolled into the inner side of the imperial bed and immediately closed his eyes. “Heat easily stirs the passions. Your Majesty and I ought to keep our hearts pure and our desires restrained, maintaining peace of mind.”
Shen Zheng propped himself up beside him on one elbow. With his other hand, he lazily toyed with the ties of Wen Zhuo’s undergarment. “Wanshan only feels hot because he is dressed improperly. People in the future do not wrap themselves so tightly when they sleep.”
Wen Zhuo opened his eyes in curiosity. “This is already made of silk, the coolest and most breathable fabric there is. Could the future possess an even more ingenious textile?”
Shen Zheng answered with a perfectly straight face, “As it happens, I have prepared a set of sleepwear. Put it on, Wanshan, and you’ll see.”
Wen Zhuo sat halfway up, his expression wary. He had learned from experience and kept several precautions in mind.
Shen Zheng took a piece of crimson silk tapestry from the small cabinet at the side. It was as thin as a cicada’s wing, translucent and hazy, its workmanship exquisite beyond compare. One glance made it clear that it had cost a fortune.
Yet there was only that single piece. The rest consisted entirely of ribbons whose purpose was impossible to guess.
“Where is the clothing?” Wen Zhuo stared, his lips parting slightly.
Shen Zheng kept his expression unchanged and coaxed him patiently. “Take off your undergarment first. I’ll teach you how to put it on.”
Wen Zhuo turned his head and watched him warily. “Do you wear this too, Your Majesty?”
Shen Zheng did not blush or falter. His tone was utterly certain. “Naturally. In the future, I wear this against my skin every day. It is not hot in the slightest.”
Partly because he was genuinely curious about the future, and partly because Shen Zheng’s elaborate frozen desserts had proven trustworthy, Wen Zhuo eventually undid his undergarment with lingering suspicion.
Perhaps the garment only looked strange. Perhaps it truly contained some secret for dispelling the heat. Once it touched his skin, a coolness spread through his entire body.
After he had finished putting it on, his expression became complicated.
The single piece of silk barely covered an inch or so of his abdomen and half of the rounded curve behind him. Everything else depended on the ribbons.
Two were tied at his collarbones, one looped around his neck, and the longest was fastened around his waist, wound three times around it. The remaining two extended straight down to his inner thighs…
Every hidden place was revealed in the finest detail. It was even more embarrassing than being completely naked.
Shen Zheng admired him without the slightest attempt at concealment, his gaze growing increasingly deep and heated. He adjusted the tightness of each ribbon one by one, then reached out and undid Wen Zhuo’s hair clasp, allowing his dark hair to fall loose and spread down to the hollow of his waist.
Wen Zhuo’s mind reeled. For a moment, he felt a deep concern for the future.
Could it be that the teachings of the sages, propriety, and a sense of shame had all vanished in that age?
“I am not accustomed to this. It would be better to change back.”
Wen Zhuo hurriedly tried to cover himself and turned to look for the undergarment lying nearby.
But Shen Zheng brushed aside his long hair and covered his waist with one hand. His fingertips hooked and lingered among the ribbons, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.
“No need to hurry.”
Shen Zheng lowered his head and pressed a kiss through the cicada-wing-thin silk. His voice was low and husky. “Wanshan, you’re truly beautiful.”
In the midst of the early summer rain, Wen Zhuo was swallowed by the sound of falling water. He was muffled and rocked until he trembled, and at last understood precisely what this garment was meant for.
He opened his eyes wide in anger, but they were wet with tears, leaving him without the slightest hint of menace.
All through the night, delicate bells rang softly, intermittently. At the very end, Wen Zhuo lay limp against Shen Zheng’s chest, his cheek rubbing lightly against him, his long lashes trembling in the candlelight.
“...This minister cannot endure any more. Your Majesty, please allow me a moment’s rest.”
Shen Zheng traced the lines of his brows and eyes with his lips, then finally smiled. “Granted.”
