Among the former retainers of the Fifth Prince, the times at which they learned of the relationship between Shen Zheng and Wen Zhuo varied greatly.
The first to see through the truth was Jun Mulan.
She had naturally been stunned when she first heard, but then she thought of her own marriage, in which she had been powerless to determine her own fate, and of the helplessness she felt at being unable even to protect her own child. Her opposition melted away.
It was true that Shen Zheng had defied the ancestral code and chosen a shocking, unconventional path. But had she herself not spent day and night longing to break free of her shackles and live an extraordinary life?
Thus, she quickly accepted the situation and secretly worked to smooth the way for the two of them.
The second to notice was Mo Shu.
Mo Shu had always been sharp-eyed and steady in his actions. Though mildly surprised, he kept his mouth firmly shut and never breathed a word to anyone. Whenever he met the two men, he continued to treat them with the same respectful propriety as before.
To him, the fact that Shen and Wen were mutually in love was far less worrying than the possibility that the two might develop a rift and jeopardize the great undertaking they were planning.
Fortunately, that concern never came to pass. From beginning to end, the two had been of one heart and mind, knowing and understanding each other as they always had.
The third to grow suspicious was Jun Dingyuan.
Having spent years fighting on battlefields, he was forthright by nature and blunt to a fault. Once he confirmed the truth from Mo Shu’s expression, he immediately set off to confront Shen Zheng.
The future emperor and his imperial tutor were in love? What sort of propriety was that? If word got out, it would surely unleash a storm.
He had just charged out, blood running hot, when Mo Shu seized him and held him back.
It was the first time since reaching adulthood that he had ever defied his senior brother. He had been determined to persuade his nephew to return to the proper path, only to be thrown to the ground three times in succession by Mo Shu and given a thorough beating.
Jun Dingyuan lay half-sprawled on the floor and wiped the thin smear of blood from the corner of his lips. Only then did he realize that ever since they had grown up, his senior brother had never once beaten him in a spar. He had assumed it was because he was stronger and more powerfully built, but now he understood that Mo Shu had become increasingly restrained and patient, deliberately yielding to him all this time.
Mo Shu had not escaped unscathed either. Dust stained his plain hemp robes, and he had acquired more than a few bruises from the scuffle.
Seeing Jun Dingyuan’s handsome face scrunched into a deeply aggrieved expression, Mo Shu could not help laughing. He held out a hand. “It’s been a long time since we last sparred. How about it, Great General? Convinced yet?”
Jun Dingyuan turned his head away in a huff, leaving Mo Shu’s hand suspended in midair.
Before long, Jun Dingyuan reluctantly took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Still unwilling to concede, he said, “I’m not convinced! Give me another year of practice, and I’ll definitely beat you, Senior Brother!”
Mo Shu shook his head helplessly, straightened his clothes, and asked in a solemn voice, “Are you clear-headed now?”
Jun Dingyuan brushed the dust from his clothes and said nothing.
Mo Shu knitted his brows, worry showing on his face. “Huaishen, what concerns me most is that you will act on impulse. His Highness may be your nephew, but he is also the future sovereign—and not some foolish ruler who will lose himself in pleasure or act arbitrarily. You are his uncle, and you command a powerful army. Throughout history, have there not been enough examples of powerful ministers and imperial relatives bringing disaster upon themselves because they did not know when to stop?”
“Emperor Taizong of Tang was an enlightened ruler for the ages, and he shared a deep affection with Empress Changsun. Yet when Changsun Wuji sought the office of chief minister, Empress Changsun firmly advised against it. As both a fine general and an imperial relative, Huaishen, you should understand the principle that even the sages regarded with caution.”
This admonition finally brought Jun Dingyuan to his senses.
Shen Zheng had always been reasonable, while Wen Zhuo was even more adept at strategy and calculation. Since the two had made such a choice, they must have planned it through long ago. No amount of forceful persuasion from outsiders would change anything.
Seeing Jun Dingyuan’s expression grow calmer, Mo Shu knew that his words had reached him. He deliberately changed his tone and teased, “Does your face hurt, General? This humble servant, Li Ping, was presumptuous just now. I’ll fetch some ointment for you at once.”
Jun Dingyuan winced at the sound of it. “Senior Brother, stop rubbing it in. But how can someone with such slender arms and legs hit so hard? Did Master hold something back when he trained me?”
Mo Shu rolled his eyes at him and turned toward the study to fetch the medicine.
Jun Dingyuan hurried after him, still unwilling to accept defeat. “I’m a Great General, and you beat me into this state without suffering so much as a scratch? Take off your clothes and let me have a look. There’s no way I could have been that much worse!”
Mo Shu scolded him, “Are you asking to be beaten again?”
In the end, under Mo Shu’s “instruction,” Jun Dingyuan reluctantly accepted the truth. From beginning to end, he never mentioned a single word of it to Shen Zheng or Wen Zhuo.
After that came Gu Weizhi, Huang Ting, and Xue Chongnian.
The three of them finally realized what was going on at the enthronement ceremony, when they saw Shen Zheng help Wen Zhuo to his feet—and no one else.
Gu Weizhi: “Huh?”
Huang Ting: “Huh?”
Xue Chongnian: “Huh?!”
Afterward, the three gathered in private and whispered among themselves.
Xue Chongnian wore an expression of profound anguish. “What are the two of you making such a fuss about? You’ve been His Majesty’s confidants for years, and you didn’t notice a thing? Unlike me—I only truly became one of his people after the Wanshan Rhapsody case!”
Gu Weizhi scratched his head and spread his hands. “The Director and His Majesty have always behaved normally with each other. It was simply a deep teacher-student bond. How could I possibly have imagined anything else?”
Huang Ting stroked his beard, utterly baffled. “Exactly. His Majesty has always respected his teacher, and the Director has always behaved with propriety. There was no difference between them and the way they treated you or me. There wasn’t the slightest sign!”
Xue Chongnian paced back and forth, shaking his head repeatedly. “How did the two of you ever manage to rise to your current positions?”
Gu Weizhi picked up his teacup and took a sip. “Don’t say that about me, Lord Xue. Back then, you suspected me of clinging to life and abandoning the Director in the palace hall, and even berated me in public. You had ties to both me and the Director—what did you notice at the time?”
Huang Ting chimed in, “Quite right. When His Majesty personally went to the Supreme Court to stand up for the Director, you didn’t notice anything then either.”
Xue Chongnian fell silent for a moment before lowering his voice. “Do you think we should submit a memorial advising against it?”
Gu Weizhi shook his head. “If His Majesty had forced himself upon the Director, I might have offered advice. But since the Director is willing, I’m not about to go looking for trouble.”
Huang Ting said, “I was once a member of the Eastern Palace establishment. I owe my current position to His Majesty’s trust. Since everyone else is opposing him, I should stand on His Majesty’s side.”
Xue Chongnian let out a long breath of relief. “What a close call. I was afraid the two of you would be so hidebound that you’d follow that stubborn fool Zhu Xiwen. I’ve always been afraid of stirring up trouble. We’ll simply pretend we know nothing about this.”
The next person to find out was Consort Zhen. When she heard the rumors, she was so startled that she gathered up her skirts and hurried straight to Jingren Palace to demand an explanation from Jun Mulan.
But the moment she reached the palace gates, she suddenly understood.
If Shen Zheng had not been the sort of person who flouted convention and refused to follow the ancestral code, how could he have saved her Zhaoyue?
Emperors had been callous since ancient times. For Shen Zheng to fall out with his own father for the sake of saving Director Wen was something rarely seen in this world.
Once she had thought it through, Consort Zhen folded her hands and leisurely strolled back to her own palace.
In the blink of an eye, three years had passed since Wen Zhuo began implementing his new policies. At last, he had managed to suppress the opposition from both the court and the public, and the first results were beginning to show.
The common people gradually began to benefit. Their lives improved day by day, and their meals grew more plentiful. Only then did they understand Wen Zhuo’s painstaking intentions.
One day, Shen Zheng set aside the memorial in his hands and made a firm decision: he would travel south with Wen Zhuo for a vacation and take in the scenery of Jiangnan.
Wen Zhuo looked at the piles of documents from the Grand Secretariat and the Hanlin Academy stacked before him, his brows drawing together. “There are still many affairs of state left unfinished. Let us wait a little longer.”
Shen Zheng reached over and closed the documents in front of him. Leaning against the desk, he looked down at Wen Zhuo. “Chief Minister, official business will never truly end. One must know how to balance work with rest. Besides, if we delay any longer, autumn will arrive. You always fall ill whenever you catch a chill.”
Wen Zhuo set down his brush and sat upright, ready to argue. “Your Majesty was not like this before. Your Majesty said you wanted to become a workaholic emperor.”
Shen Zheng said with utmost seriousness, “But three years of work have changed my mind. Being emperor is far too exhausting. I have no intention of following the Founding Emperor’s example—working himself to the bone, forgetting sleep and food, and wearing himself out before the age of forty.”
Wen Zhuo’s expression turned solemn. “Your Majesty, do mind your words. The realm had only just been pacified at the time, and there were countless affairs to attend to. The Founding Emperor’s old injuries from his early campaigns resurfaced, and that was what caused his death.”
“Regardless, the realm is at peace now. You and I both deserve a proper rest.” Shen Zheng emphasized the point several times.
Unable to talk him out of it, Wen Zhuo could only agree. He returned to his residence, gathered a few belongings, and set off with Liu Qiying and Jiang Mannü, traveling incognito through the southern regions alongside Shen Zheng.
They journeyed at a leisurely pace, and by the time they reached Nanzhou, more than twenty days had passed.
Standing before the city, Shen Zheng could not help sighing. “In later generations, this would be no more than a two-hour drive. Yet now it has taken us so long to get here. It seems seeing the scenery of the entire Great Qian will remain a dream.”
When he used to read idle histories, he had always been fascinated by the customs and daily life of ordinary people in ancient times. But there were far too few records of such things handed down through the ages. Only kings, nobles, generals, and ministers could leave their names immortalized in the history books, while the countless vivid and genuine lives of the common people passed in silence, never leaving a trace.
Wen Zhuo listened with interest and turned his head. “The distance from the capital to Nanzhou is two thousand li. How could one travel it in only two hours?”
“In later generations, there are faster vehicles and much smoother roads. At that time, one could travel from the capital to Mianzhou and back within a single day.”
“Then would I be able to return to my hometown every day?” Wen Zhuo asked casually.
Shen Zheng teased him. “It costs money. A round trip would be about one tael of silver. If you made the journey every day, it would cost more than three hundred taels a year.”
Wen Zhuo’s eyes widened.
Because the Founding Emperor had established such rules, the salaries of Great Qian officials were not especially generous. Unless they came from wealthy and influential families, most officials lived rather frugally. More than three hundred taels of silver was far beyond what Wen Zhuo could afford on his salary.
“Then I won’t be going back.”
With a flick of his sleeve, Wen Zhuo turned and drifted away.
Liu Qiying began, “But, my lord, don’t you have some money under your—”
Wen Zhuo immediately narrowed his eyes. “No. Do not speak nonsense.”
There was no way he would ever touch that small private stash beneath his bed.
The four of them lodged at the most famous inn in Nanzhou. When they pushed open the window, they could see the Songchuan River. Bamboo rafts and small boats moved back and forth across the water, densely packed yet perfectly orderly.
Where the river narrowed, thirteen stone arch bridges had been built. Pedestrians streamed endlessly across them, while cries of vendors and bursts of laughter blended together into a clamor that was lively but never chaotic.
The shops lining both banks were filled with every kind of good—food, wares, amusements, everything one could want. Beside a great willow tree stood a steamed-bun stall, where a long queue had formed. People of every sort craned their necks in anticipation, waiting for the steaming buns to emerge from the bamboo baskets.
Along the embankment, children dug and played in the mud, smearing their faces until they looked like little tabby cats. Every so often one of them would collide with a passerby, startling some richly dressed young lady into a startled cry.
In the distance, taverns and teahouses rose one atop another. Not a single establishment seemed short of business. The servers were so busy their feet nearly flew out from beneath them; their undershirts were soaked through with sweat, yet they remained full of energy.
Wen Zhuo leaned against the window and gazed out for a while before sighing softly. “Nanzhou truly is prosperous beyond imagination.”
Shen Zheng had been absorbed in the bustling life below. Upon hearing this, he shot Wen Zhuo a sidelong glance.
Wen Zhuo noticed his gaze and turned his head. Their eyes met in silence.
“…”
After a brief pause, Wen Zhuo kept a perfectly straight face and said solemnly, “It is all drawn from my studies. The Record of Nanzhou’s Splendor says: ‘Nanzhou commands the crossroads of water and land, gathering the goods of the realm. Ships from the south and horses from the north pass ceaselessly by day and night; peddlers and laborers shout and jostle one another. The thoroughfares never sleep, the people are healthy and prosperous, wealth and taxes flow in abundance—truly, it is the flourishing heart of the realm.’”
Shen Zheng gave him a half-smile. “Did I say anything?”
That night, Shen Zheng rented a pleasure boat and took them cruising along the Songchuan River.
On the deck, warm wine simmered slowly over a brazier, while several Nanzhou delicacies rested quietly on the table. A sky full of stars spilled across the surface of the river, breaking into a stream of glittering silver scales.
Inside the cabin on the second level, red candles burned brightly. The lattice window was half closed, allowing the night breeze and a wash of moonlight to drift in.
Following the customs of later generations, Wen Zhuo took the initiative to remove his undergarments and braced both arms against the window ledge.
Before his eyes were little boats drifting gently with the waves, lanterns glowing red upon the water, flower boats singing soft and delicate melodies, and streets ablaze with the splendor of the night.
He wore a jade-colored round-collared robe, his clothes and cap neat and dignified. Yet Shen Zheng lifted the two parted hems of his robe and drew him into his arms.
Wen Zhuo gazed at the night view of Nanzhou, his entire body flushed with heat. He could no longer maintain his usual composure. Tears spilled into the rippling water, soaking the moon’s reflection beneath the river’s surface.
Suddenly, a singing courtesan turned her head, her melodious voice trailing off as she happened to glance toward the window.
“The customs of later generations are no good after all… Let’s not do this anymore!” Wen Zhuo hurriedly reached out to close the window, but Shen Zheng caught him by the wrist and pressed his hand against his waist.
“The scenery of Nanzhou is extraordinary. Why not admire it a little longer, Wanshan?” Shen Zheng’s voice was gentle, and his rhythm did not falter in the slightest.
Fortunately, the window ledge was very high. The courtesan noticed nothing and turned her head away.
Wen Zhuo’s breathing was unsteady, and he sobbed indignantly, “Your Majesty, you’re jealous!”
“I am not.” Shen Zheng kissed away the tear at the corner of his cheek, refusing to admit it.
They spent ten days in Nanzhou, observing the state of the people and seeing for themselves that the markets were thriving, the people lived in peace, and the new policies had taken root. Only then did Shen Zheng reveal his identity and proceed to the Nanzhou prefectural government office.
Upon hearing that the emperor had arrived, the prefect stumbled out to greet him.
The man was a distant collateral relative of the Nanzhou Xie family, one whom the main branch had never taken seriously. After Xie Langyang’s downfall and the collapse of the Xie clan, he had escaped punishment by association, but he had lived in fear day after day all the same.
After hearing the entire story, Shen Zheng smiled reassuringly. “If one’s conscience is clear, what is there to fear or worry about? I will not punish the collateral branches of the Xie clan for the mistakes of one man. You have worked diligently in office and kept your territory stable. There will be opportunities for promotion in your future.”
Only then did the prefect relax. He immediately knelt and offered his thanks. When he rose, he spoke with heartfelt sincerity.
“Nanzhou’s prosperity today is by no means the achievement of one man alone. Your Majesty opened the sea routes, allowing Nanzhou silk to circulate throughout the realm. The chief minister carried out the new policies, filling the people’s granaries and clothing their backs. As a result, lost goods are returned, doors remain unlocked at night, and the streets are safe. To encounter a wise ruler and renowned ministers is truly the fortune of all the people—and of every official who serves them.”
His words were not empty flattery. In the three years since Shen Zheng had ascended the throne, Nanzhou’s wealth and prosperity had already far surpassed that of the Shunyuan dynasty. Praise for the new emperor could be heard everywhere among the people.
Shen Zheng had received so much praise that he was growing uneasy. He feared that if he listened to too many flattering words, he might become conceited. Thus, he stayed at the prefectural office for only two days before issuing an order to return to the capital.
The imperial carriage traveled smoothly along the road. Halfway through the journey, Wen Zhuo finally spoke in a seemingly casual tone.
“Your Majesty said back then that you would not punish others for the mistakes of one person. So why were you much more difficult than usual that night in Nanzhou?”
Shen Zheng pretended to have lost his memory. “Did I say that? I don’t remember. When I saw that your legs had gone weak, I stopped immediately. How was I difficult?”
After their return to the capital, a number of upright senior ministers continued submitting memorials one after another, tirelessly urging Shen Zheng to marry as soon as possible, fill the imperial harem, and ensure the continuation of the imperial line.
Shen Zheng decided that the time was right. On those memorials calling for death in remonstrance, he wrote a single sentence:
“Approved. I shall welcome the empress into the palace at once.”
When the senior ministers saw that the emperor had finally “come to his senses,” each of them breathed a sigh of relief. Zhu Xiwen even drank an entire jug of rough wine on the spot, spread out the sheets of official history paper, and began writing with vigorous strokes—
“For three years, the assembled ministers had devoted themselves to remonstrating with utmost sincerity. The emperor, moved by the wishes of the court, issued an edict appointing an empress and commenced preparations for the grand ceremony. Upon hearing the decree, the ministers rejoiced, and congratulations spread far and wide. At that time, the realm of Great Qian was peaceful, the nation prosperous, and the people abundant in grain. Only the imperial wedding had yet to take place, and both court and country had remained deeply concerned. Now, at last, all within and without the capital were at peace.”
The ink on the paper had barely dried when an imperial envoy, bearing the emperor’s clear edict, hurried straight to the Directorate of Astronomy—
“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees:
“In the days when I dwelled as a prince, I endured peril and hardship. By good fortune, I gained the aid of the Grand Secretary, who devoted himself wholeheartedly to assisting me, braving danger without hesitation and facing life and death without fear. From the moment I first met him, my heart was captivated; with every passing year, our affection has grown deeper.
“Now that the realm is settled and the nation enjoys peace, I hereby issue this edict to make Wanshan my empress, that he and I may share equal honor and glory, rely upon each other, and hold hands for the rest of our lives. My heart is clear, and this vow shall never change. Let this be proclaimed throughout the realm, so that all may hear and know.”
Zhu Xiwen promptly fainted.
The instant Zhu Xiwen collapsed, Zhu Xibang was already hurriedly throwing on his official robes. He splashed a few drops of water haphazardly onto his face, then raced toward the imperial city, weeping tears of joy. Kneeling before the palace gates, he began loudly offering his congratulations, his voice carrying for half a dozen streets.
“When emperor and minister stand together, the government shall be clear and upright! When emperor and minister are of one heart, the whole world shall unite in loyalty! This is not merely a blessing for His Majesty’s household, but a blessing for the entire Great Qian! I, Zhu Xibang, offer my congratulations to His Majesty and the Grand Secretary. May your love endure for all time, may you grow old together, and may this union, ordained by Heaven, be passed down through the ages!”
Zhu Xiwen was so enraged that he came back to life. Pointing toward the door, he shouted hoarsely, “Go drag that disgraceful creature back here!”
Elsewhere, the Marquis Yongning received the news and sprang to his feet, his beard and hair trembling. He hurriedly called for Jun Dingyuan.
“Huaishen, is this truly happening?!”
Jun Dingyuan looked perfectly calm. “How is it that Father has only learned of it today?”
The Marquis Yongning slapped his thigh hard. “Not a single person told me!”
Mo Shu silently pressed a hand to his forehead. It seemed they really had forgotten the marquis.
The Marquis Yongning grew anxious and worried. “Director Wen is handsome and refined, with a gentle disposition. Could it be that your son…?”
Mo Shu laughed. “Marquis, you may rest assured. The two of them are devoted to each other, and both have entered this union willingly.”
Regardless of how much the court and the common people debated the matter, once the imperial edict had been issued, the wedding was set in stone.
On the day of the grand wedding, red paper was pasted throughout the capital, and red silk ribbons adorned every street and alley. The thunder of firecrackers shook the heavens and earth, echoing across the four quarters.
The people brought their elders and children and crowded both sides of the imperial city, all eager to witness this unprecedented royal wedding.
According to the rites, the Son of Heaven was not required to personally receive his bride. But Shen Zheng refused to follow the old conventions. Holding the ceremonial scepter, golden investiture scroll, and golden seal himself, he mounted his imperial procession and went straight to the Wen residence to fetch his bride.
The main gates stood open. Wen Zhuo wore wedding attire, but not the skirts and hair ornaments of a woman. Instead, he was dressed in the splendid robes of a noble young man, his crown embellished with clustered pearls and a golden belt fastened around his waist. His beauty was dazzling—rarely seen in all of history.
He stepped forward, his vermilion robe trailing across the ground like drifting clouds. Then he looked at Shen Zheng and smiled.
Shen Zheng reined in his horse before the gate. He stared at Wen Zhuo as though transfixed, and only after a long moment did he dismount and stride forward. Taking Wen Zhuo’s hand in his own, he gazed at him with unconcealed admiration.
“Wanshan,” he said, “you are the only one my heart has ever chosen. Will you marry me and become my empress?”
Wen Zhuo’s eyes shone. Remembering the teasing promise he had made when he first became Shen Zheng’s teacher, he drew his robes together and answered solemnly, “I… am willing.”
A smile touched Shen Zheng’s lips. Leaning close to Wen Zhuo’s ear, he murmured, “There are too many people here, and they invite gossip. Once we return to the palace, I have a bellyful of sweet words to tell you.”
A thousand palace lanterns illuminated the long avenue leading to the main hall. At the front gate of the imperial city, emperor and minister boarded the carriage hand in hand and entered the palace together.
That very day, Shen Zheng issued an edict granting a general amnesty throughout the realm. The entire nation celebrated for three days. He also announced to all officials that Wen Zhuo had first been a renowned minister who helped bring peace and prosperity to the realm, and afterward became the one dearest to his heart. When they met him, the court officials were still to address him as the Grand Secretary.
Wen Zhuo did not reside in Kunning Palace. He stayed with Shen Zheng in Qianqing Palace, solely because the emperor had declared—
“In this life, there shall be only this one person. Our affection is deep and steadfast; naturally, we ought to sleep together and remain side by side.”
—
When they had nothing else to do, Shen Zheng loved to twirl a lock of Wen Zhuo’s hair around his fingers. Again and again, he would sigh, “Wanshan, why didn’t you compose a love rhapsody for me when we first met?”
Each time, Wen Zhuo would set down his book and cast him a sidelong glance, unable to resist reminding him, “When we first met, Your Majesty said that your most urgent task was for me to humiliate you thoroughly. I thought there was something wrong with your mind.”
Shen Zheng secretly smiled, then immediately put on a stern expression and argued shamelessly, “I don’t care. Other people have one, so I must have one too.”
Wen Zhuo narrowed his eyes. “And yet Your Majesty claims to be broad-minded and says you never get jealous.”
Shen Zheng leaned over the desk and pondered deeply. “My rhapsody must be even more impressive. Since Wanshan possesses the talent of the top scholar, why don’t we imitate Cao Zhi and compose seven rhapsodies in a single night? We can begin tonight.”
“?”
Wen Zhuo threw down his book and ran for his life.
Afterword:
The Clear-Minded Record — Wen Zhuo
“Throughout my life, I have been battered by hardship and tossed about by the ways of the world. I have repeatedly been betrayed, while those who understood me were few and those who resented me were many. In former years, trapped in endless darkness, I believed I would never find my way home.”
“Yet in that place of utter despair, I encountered Shen Zheng. He soothed the illness in my heart, cherished my battered body, and loved me with ardor and openness, sincerity without concealment. He regarded me as something precious and did not cast me aside as a source of disgrace because of my appearance. After meeting him, the dust and frost of my past suffering gradually faded from memory. Whenever I think of it, I am overcome by gratitude for Heaven’s extraordinary gift. I, once a fierce ghost from the deepest reaches of the underworld, have been transformed into a wandering spirit of the mortal realm.”
“I wrote this privately and do not wish for Your Majesty to see it, for I fear it will stir his affections and lead him to pester me with embarrassing words of love. There is only one small matter that displeases me—Your Majesty, you really must practice your calligraphy more diligently! I truly cannot endure the clumsiness of your handwriting!”
