The next day, they set out again. Wen Zhuo was limp with exhaustion, curling up in the carriage and dozing off without once dismounting to ride. Taking pity on him after the exertions of the previous night, Shen Zheng abandoned his horse as well and boarded the carriage, letting Wen Zhuo rest with his head on his lap.
Half asleep and barely conscious, Wen Zhuo mumbled, “When we went to Mianzhou, I rested on Your Highness’s lap too...”
In his dreams, he was muddled and addressed him as Your Highness once more.
Shen Zheng did not expose him. He merely twirled a lock of Wen Zhuo’s soft hair around his fingers and lowered his head to answer quietly, “Yes.”
“Even before Mianzhou, I had already fallen for Your Highness. I just never let you know...”
“I see,” Shen Zheng replied to each sentence in turn.
“His Majesty’s legs are too hard. When I touch them...”
Wen Zhuo had no idea what he was saying. His dream-talk was muddled and utterly incoherent.
“I’ll have a cushion placed beneath your teacher’s legs in the future.”
“Ten marshmallows... I finished them all in two days, and I hid that from Your Highness too...”
Wen Zhuo continued speaking nonsense, utterly beside the point, until he finally sank into a deep sleep and fell silent.
Shen Zheng could not help laughing. He had not expected that, once befuddled by sleep, this man would let slip his innermost thoughts.
He raised a hand to shield Wen Zhuo’s eyes, quietly blocking the sunlight pouring in through the swaying curtains.
Ta Baisha had not received a single carrot all day. It kept turning its head to look toward the carriage, but the two people inside never got out. Agitated, it stomped through several muddy puddles along the way and soon rubbed itself into a gray horse.
When Wen Zhuo opened his eyes again, they had already arrived in Jinhai and taken up residence at the governor’s office.
After washing and resting, they received the local officials responsible for maritime transport.
Through the deep blue dusk, Wen Zhuo saw the completed treasure ship for the first time. It looked as though someone had flattened the base of a small mountain and shoved it straight into the sea.
Standing at the harbor and gazing into the distance, he saw that the hull had been built from ironwood, so immense that more than a dozen people would have to join hands to encircle it. Layer upon layer of iron bands cinched it tight, and its surface had been coated in reddish-brown official lacquer, making it resemble a suit of iron armor.
The masts at the stern rose nine zhang into the air. A dragon banner hung above them, snapping furiously in the sea wind.
Up close, the ship seemed even more like a divine mountain floating upon the sea, its imposing presence almost oppressive. Simply lying there in silence, it radiated the dignity of the Great Qian Dynasty.
Wen Zhuo’s heart surged with excitement, and he instinctively turned to look for Shen Zheng.
Shen Zheng was listening as the governor of Jinhai reported on maritime affairs, yet as if they shared a single heart, he immediately lifted his eyes. Their gazes met, and Shen Zheng curved his eyes into a smile first.
The governor beside him saw the Emperor suddenly smile and assumed that His Majesty was deeply pleased with his work. He immediately became as energetic as if he had been injected with chicken blood, speaking with even greater animation and enthusiasm.
At dawn the following day came the grand ceremony for the treasure ship’s launch.
The thunderous crack of firecrackers echoed through the harbor, red paper fluttering across the sky. On the sacrificial altar were laid the three sacrificial animals, fine wine, and a document written on yellow silk.
Standing against the sea wind, Shen Zheng led the assembled officials in rites honoring the sea god.
After three rounds of drums and nine peals of bells, the Tiance Treasure Ship slowly raised its main sail and cast off its enormous anchor. Its hull churned through the waves, sending schools of fish scattering in all directions.
The weather was clear and the wind gentle that day, and everything proceeded smoothly—just as the future fortunes of Great Qian would be, broad and open beneath boundless skies.
To Wen Zhuo, everything in Jinhai was new.
Unlike Mianzhou, the climate here was not hot. The seawater was blue and clear, while the sea and its embankments were both rendered in cool, hard colors. One glance across the landscape made him feel its vastness.
Half an incense stick’s ride from the harbor stood a shallow beach made of heaps of broken stone. Shen Zheng’s former bamboo residence was nearby.
Because it had once been the Emperor’s home, the local officials had not dared alter it. Everything remained just as he had left it.
Shen Zheng led Wen Zhuo down over a low cliff, and together they stepped onto the shallows.
Their boot soles crushed the loose stones. Startled by the disturbance, tide-loving insects and tiny crabs hidden in the cracks scurried hurriedly into the shadows.
Wen Zhuo gathered up the hem of his robe. Broken white waves lapped against the toes of his boots, sweeping away the heat that clung to him.
“Back then, I would come here before dawn to clear my mind. I would watch the sun rise over the sea and think of you in silence,” Shen Zheng said.
Moved by his words, Wen Zhuo gazed into the distance as well. The sea and sky met in a vast, hazy expanse, and his own heart seemed to open with it.
“But at the time, Wanshan was deceiving me and keeping me in the dark. He put himself into the middle of the scheme, suffered in prison, and even forbade anyone from telling me.”
Wen Zhuo turned to look at him, his expression faintly aggrieved. “Your Majesty has already punished me for that.”
Shen Zheng smiled. “Look how obedient you are now. That proves the punishment worked.”
Remembering those days, Wen Zhuo’s ears began to burn. He hurriedly reached out to cover Shen Zheng’s mouth, unwilling to let him say more. But using his hand seemed undignified, so he simply sealed Shen Zheng’s lips with his own.
The sea breeze brushed across their cheeks as Wen Zhuo rose onto his toes and kissed Shen Zheng with all his strength.
Before long, Shen Zheng took the initiative. They did not part until the waves had soaked the edges of their boots, and even then, neither was willing to let go.
They returned to the bamboo residence to change their boots and socks, and Wen Zhuo finally got to taste Jinhai’s fresh seafood.
The sea fish had few bones and tender flesh that melted on the tongue. He drank three bowls in succession of the nourishing soup simmered from fish maw.
They stayed in Jinhai for ten days. Wen Zhuo relaxed completely, both body and mind, and the lonely bamboo residence gradually acquired the presence of a second master.
When it was time to leave, Wen Zhuo hung a calligraphic painting on the wall. It depicted the treasure ship setting sail, and in the empty space he inscribed a line of verse:
“Across the boundless sea, sails stretch wide;
My heart is one with yours.”
Shen Zheng said they would come back for a vacation next time.
“Vacation” was another term from later generations. It meant that lovers traveled together to beautiful places every year, stayed by each other’s side day and night, spent every night in intimate bliss, and shared the bashful things they normally found difficult to say, thereby deepening their affection.
That was how Shen Zheng explained it, giving Wen Zhuo a new understanding of the openness of later generations.
Wen Zhuo had even accepted the notion of nightly intimacy. He merely suggested, as tactfully as possible, that Shen Zheng say fewer embarrassing things. But Shen Zheng said that since it was a custom, they ought to respect it.
After thinking it over, Wen Zhuo decided that Shen Zheng had a point.
When they returned to the capital, they discovered that Zhu Xiwen had added another passage to the official record:
“His Majesty traveled with Wen Zhuo to Jinhai and personally observed the treasure ship being launched and setting sail. His Majesty was born of a military family, was skilled in riding and archery from a young age, and possessed a bold and martial nature, often galloping untamed steeds. At the time, Wen Zhuo was frail by nature and unable to endure the hardships of riding. His Majesty, concerned that the hurried journey would overtax his body, ordered him to travel in the same carriage. The favor shown him was extraordinary, and the grace bestowed upon him surpassed all convention.”
By now, Wen Zhuo had managed to treat Zhu Xiwen entirely as though he were nothing more than air.
Before long, another piece of good news arrived: Great Qian and Nanping had formally opened trade and established a mutual market.
To demonstrate their sincerity, Nanping first sent several hundred jin of spices and twenty hu of jadeite and other precious ornaments.
In return, Great Qian bestowed three hundred bolts of silk and two hundred jin of tea.
From then on, the court’s fragrances were no longer limited to dragon’s-breath incense and storax. They were joined by borneol, golden balm, benzoin, and asafoetida, among other exotic scents, filling the palace halls with rich fragrance.
For his role in bringing about the agreement, Wu Kan was promoted by the Emperor of Nanping to Minister of Revenue.
Once merely a minor envoy who had brought his son along to play chess, he had leapt to become one of the highest-ranking officials in the realm. Wu Kan finally decided that meeting Wen Zhuo had been the greatest stroke of good fortune in his life.
He promptly cast aside the past—being threatened, manipulated, and schemed against—and began corresponding with Wen Zhuo more frequently than ever.
One day, Wu Kan was patiently instructing Mu Er in the art of brewing tea.
Mu Er was still suffering from the aftereffects of the red pills. Whenever he tried to hold anything with care, his hands began to tremble uncontrollably. An entire pot of tea splashed across the table, leaving scarcely a few drops in the cups.
Wu Kan drew a stern expression and scolded him, “You need to practice until your hands are steady! This tea is called Songluo tea, and it is Director Wen’s favorite. If he ever comes to Nanping as an envoy, we’ll have to serve him this tea. Didn’t you say you wanted to thank him properly?”
Mu Er nodded repeatedly. He gripped his wrist tightly, gritted his teeth, and continued practicing until sweat covered his brow.
Just then, the house steward came darting through the door, his face tight with urgency, and pulled a navy-blue pamphlet from inside his robes.
"My lord, I chanced upon a book from the Great Qian dynasty on the streets today. Its contents are related to your close friend Director Wen, and I dared not delay a moment before bringing it straight to you. The things recorded in this volume are absolutely staggering!"
"Oh?" Wu Kan frowned, quickly took the pamphlet, and fixed his gaze on its cover, where four bold characters were printed clearly — *Secret Tales of Spring Terrace*.
The Spring Terrace Chess Tournament was deeply tied to him back in the day, so Wu Kan did not dare treat this lightly. He flipped open the pages at once and read every single word carefully.
When he finished the last line, he slowly closed the pamphlet, let out a long sigh, and wore a look of tangled emotions.
According to what was written in *Secret Tales of Spring Terrace*, the new emperor of Great Qian had long lusted after Wen Zhuo's striking good looks. The moment he ascended the throne, he had marked Wen Zhuo as his own exclusive possession.
Not only did he forbid Wen Zhuo from taking a wife, starting a family, or siring an heir to carry on his line, he also forcibly confined the man in the imperial palace, spending every night in carnal delight with him.
Poor Wen Zhuo, once a dashing, free-spirited scholar who frequented the music houses, was now separated from all the courtesans he had known for years, trapped like a caged bird. To save his own life, he had no choice but to submit to this humiliation, swallowing all his grievances with no one to turn to.
Normally, Wu Kan would dismiss this kind of folk pamphlet out of hand, never deigning to spare it a second glance.
But this *Secret Tales of Spring Terrace* lined up every last detail perfectly!
Wen Zhuo's beauty and elegance were renowned across the realm, and Nanping had long been open to relationships between men — their current emperor had even taken a male consort into the imperial harem.
Wu Kan closed his eyes and pictured it: if Wen Zhuo had been born in Nanping, he would surely have stirred up a tempest that shook the entire court.
Thinking of it that way, the Great Qian emperor's actions seemed logical, even understandable.
Back when he had taken up his brush to write to Wen Zhuo, earnestly requesting that the two kingdoms open up trade with one another, he had not held out much hope at all.
He knew full well that Nanping was still reeling from unresolved internal strife, and it was already a blessing that Great Qian had not taken advantage of his vulnerability to march their armies south. Why would they ever extend a helping hand out of nowhere and give Nanping a chance to catch its breath?
So when the emperor had tasked him with this diplomatic mission, he had accepted the post practically gritting his teeth.
But Wen Zhuo had somehow pulled it off.
If the two of them did not share some unspoken, secret relationship that could never be revealed to outsiders, how could an emperor, ever wary of those around him, ever give up vast stretches of territory to indulge Wen Zhuo, yielding to him again and again?
"Alas..."
Wu Kan tapped the pamphlet fretfully with his fingers, and after a long moment of deliberation, he finally made up his mind.
He had only risen to his current position as Minister of Revenue thanks to Wen Zhuo's full support. He owed this man a great debt, and he must repay the favor by rescuing Wen Zhuo from this mire of suffering.
So he bent over his desk for a long time, weighing every word carefully as he penned a letter to Wen Zhuo —
"Have you been well lately? Are your meals to your liking?"
"You and I have worked side by side in unity to bring peace to the borders of Nanping and Great Qian, so that the common people can go about their lives in peace. I have recently been promoted to Minister of Revenue, and enjoy the full trust of our sovereign. But when I heard the sudden news that you are trapped in dire straits, I tossed and turned thinking of you, and know full well that you must be enduring untold shame and sorrow, submitting to this indignity only out of fear of the emperor's supreme authority, forced to go against your own will. You and I are the closest of confidants — how could I stand by and watch you suffer?"
"If you wish to leave this shameful place, I will spare no effort to make arrangements on your behalf, and bring you back to Nanping. Though the rules of diplomatic relations between our two nations mean I cannot grant you an official post, I swear you will live in utmost comfort and plenty, with nothing to worry about for the rest of your days. Burn this letter the moment you finish reading it, and leave no trace of it to bring disaster down on us. If you are of this mind, please send word to me as soon as possible."
"Your sworn friend, Wu Kan, bows to you."
When Wen Zhuo unfolded and read the letter, his expression grew more and more complicated. By the time he finished the last line, he crumpled the paper into a tight ball, and still not feeling satisfied, he tore it into tiny pieces and tossed them all into the charcoal brazier.
He did not even bother to write a single word in reply.
Roughly a month later, Wu Kan's second secret letter found its way to Wen Zhuo. It was still full of heartbroken concern, its words even more filled with worry than the last.
Wen Zhuo could not bear it any longer. This idle marketplace gossip had somehow made its way all the way to the Nanping court, and Wu Kan had actually believed it, obsessing over the idea of "rescuing him from the fires of suffering" every single day.
He brought the letter to Shen Zheng and said, "The booksellers and peddlers in the capital are getting more and more unbridled these days!"
Shen Zheng looked at the letter, not knowing whether to laugh or sigh, and after reading it through a few times, he even found it rather amusing.
"Look at this line: 'Wen Zhuo, once the crown prince's tutor with hundreds of students under his wing, a man of lofty virtue and high standing, now serves at the emperor's bedside, weeping as he receives his favor, bending low to submit to his grace. All who hear of this can but sigh and lament.' Doesn't that count as a boomerang coming back to hit you?"
Wen Zhuo looked confused. "What's a boomerang?"
"It's a kind of object from later generations that you can throw, and it will fly all the way out then circle right back to you." Shen Zheng folded the letter neatly and smiled. "What I mean is, back then you used those very same booksellers and peddlers to spread rumors, disturbing the late emperor so badly that you managed to bring down Xie Langyang. Now you've ended up the victim of their fabricated tales yourself."
"I wouldn't mind them making up stories about me." Wen Zhuo's expression turned serious. "But they are sullying Your Majesty's good name. And this pamphlet has already spread to Nanping — who knows how many people will be misled and misunderstand Your Majesty."
Shen Zheng set aside his smile and nodded. "You're right, we do need to deal with this. But we can't let this loss go to waste. What if... we take this chance to test something out?"
Wen Zhuo looked blank. "Test what?"
Shen Zheng stretched out his long arm, swept him up, and lifted him right off the ground into his embrace. His imperial dragon robe brushed across the surface of the chair, the jade pendants hanging from his sash clinking softly. Wen Zhuo instinctively looped his arms around Shen Zheng's neck, and was carried toward the bed.
"Put up more of a fight, Wanshan," Shen Zheng said in a low, amused voice, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Right now, we're acting out the part where a tyrant emperor defiles his imperial tutor."
Wen Zhuo was held perfectly securely in his arms, so he did not struggle at all. He only stared at Shen Zheng steadily and said helplessly, "Your Majesty..."
"Shh, stay in character." The color of Shen Zheng's eyes deepened, darkening with rising desire, and he lowered his head to close the distance to Wen Zhuo's lips. "I have lusted after my tutor for so long. Now that you have finally fallen into my hands, you need only rest easy and receive my favor from now on. I will dote on you twice as much as you deserve."
Wen Zhuo had no choice but to play along. He squirmed gently in his hold, careful not to move too roughly and tire him out, as he spoke his lines: "Your Majesty, you must not! I am your tutor. This goes against all ethics and natural order!"
"I don't care about any of those moral codes or rules!" Shen Zheng said as he flipped Wen Zhuo over, slinging him easily over his shoulder.
Wen Zhuo gasped in surprise and quickly grabbed tight to the fabric of his dragon robe, not daring to move a muscle.
Shen Zheng gave his rounded hip a light pat, then slipped his fingers under the bright red layers of Wen Zhuo's official robes, caressing the warm, soft skin beneath.
That entire night, the two of them acted out most of the scenes from that absurd unofficial history, going at it until the red silk bed curtains slipped down to the floor and the last of the candle flames sputtered and died low.
It was not until much later that Shen Zheng finally pulled Wen Zhuo out of the tangled bedclothes. He brushed his thumb over the poor, overwrought part of Wen Zhuo's body and laughed, asking, "Was the tyrant better, or the wise emperor better? I think you were even more eager than usual just now, Wanshan."
Wen Zhuo ducked his head, trying to hide his face back under the covers. "I don't know... stop asking me."
Shen Zheng, strong as he was, held him steady easily. His tone turned a little earnest as he said, "This is a perfectly serious matter. As your husband, of course I need to know what makes you happier, Wanshan."
Wen Zhuo grew flustered and raised both his hands to cover his ears.
Shen Zheng took the chance to wrap his hands around Wen Zhuo's wrists, pulling them close to kiss the damp, soft palms. "Fine, I won't ask about that. Then tell me, Wanshan — when will you agree to marry me as my empress? On top of being the Director of the Hanlin Academy, the Chief of the Cabinet, and the Emperor's Tutor, you will also take up the post of my Empress of the Central Palace."
Wen Zhuo feigned deafness, tucking his burning red ears beneath the fall of his dark hair.
" ... That, I also do not know," he mumbled.
"I think, my beloved tutor, that you are just being too old-fashioned and traditional," Shen Zheng said with a soft laugh. "Wearing those fun little sets of clothes is nothing to be embarrassed about, and marrying me is nothing to be embarrassed about either."
