After the sacrificial rites at the Fengxian Palace that day, the sandalwood incense in the bronze censer curled and lingered in the air. Wen Zhuo and Shen Zheng walked out of the palace side by side, their fingers still interlocked.
The spring rain had not yet dried, and the bluestone slabs on the Danbi steps were cool and slippery. Before their hands could part, the sky suddenly changed.
Just a moment ago, the sun had been shining brightly, but in the blink of an eye, dark clouds pressed down over the city. Following that, a sharp, blinding white light split the clouds, surging down from the sky toward the central axis of the Forbidden City, so bright it threatened to pierce one's eyes.
Wen Zhuo instinctively raised his sleeve to shield his face, feeling surging air currents and a constant droning hum around him, as the surrounding temperature quickly dropped.
When the intense light faded and the world returned to clarity, he slowly lowered his sleeve, but colorful spots still floated before his eyes, lingering for a long time.
A wave of panic rose in him, and he blurted out a cry: "Your Majesty!"
The voices around him were noisy, as bustling as a busy market, but none of them belonged to Shen Zheng.
A sharp sense of danger gripped Wen Zhuo's heart. Once the spots before his eyes faded a little, he hurriedly looked around, and the sight that met him made him freeze in place in astonishment.
He was still standing on the Danbi steps in front of the Fengxian Palace, but the palace's Dougong brackets, the painted beams and lintels, the inscriptions on the plaques—none of them matched the regulations of the Great Qian Dynasty.
Even more horrifying was that within this imperial palace, which was supposed to be strictly guarded with palace ladies keeping their heads bowed, people were now coming and going in throngs. Their clothing was strange, and their behavior violated every palace rule.
A few people wore garments somewhat similar to his, but most were clad in bizarre, unprecedented outfits.
He saw a woman whose clothes were held up by only two thin straps over her shoulders, revealing her entire arms and back. She wore no robe or skirt to cover her lower half, her legs were fully exposed, and on her feet were a pair of strange, shoeless slippers, her ten toenails painted bright red, as she walked openly along the palace path.
Wen Zhuo strictly abided by the rules of separation between men and women, so upon seeing this, he hurriedly covered his eyes with his sleeve.
Where on earth was this place? And where had Shen Zheng gone?
Just as he was in utter turmoil, he heard someone beside him complaining: "It's so hot, let's buy a popsicle to cool down."
Another person replied: "Let's go outside to eat. They're ridiculously expensive inside the scenic area."
Wen Zhuo's heart jolted violently.
He had heard Shen Zheng talk about this item before. A popsicle was a rare treat from later generations, sweet, cold, and pleasant to the taste. When Shen Zheng was in the Great Qian Dynasty, he had tried to recreate it several times, but never succeeded due to unsuitable tools and raw materials.
Could it be... that white light had somehow transported him to Shen Zheng's hometown?
If that was the case, had Shen Zheng come along with him too?
On the other side, Shen Zheng had been blinded by the bright white light, and felt his palm suddenly go empty— the hand of Wen Zhuo that he had been holding a moment ago vanished in an instant.
His heart sank sharply. He strained every nerve to pry open his eyes, and called out urgently: "Wanshan! Wanshan!"
"Ouch, young man, watch where you're going!"
He bumped into someone's shoulder, and the white haze finally cleared from his sight. Shen Zheng's pupils slowly focused, and the surrounding scenery made his chest tighten.
He was standing at the entrance of the Lama Temple, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, a mobile phone clutched in his hand, and a student ID card in his pocket. Not far away stood a sign for a blood donation point, and across the street hung a sign for Old Beijing Noodles with Soy Bean Paste.
All the experiences of the Great Qian Dynasty felt like a vivid, thrilling grand dream. Now that he woke up, he had fallen back into the world he originally belonged to.
Had Wen Zhuo just been a figment of his overworked imagination, born from days and nights of poring over historical records and obsessing over them?
The mere thought of that possibility sent a searing, tearing pain through his chest.
Was he never going to see Wanshan again?
Lost in a daze, he heard two tourists passing behind him, one of whom asked: "Where are we going tomorrow again?"
"We booked a visit to the National Museum of China."
"Oh right, you're the biggest fan of the Jade Chancellor, you're going to see the special exhibition on Wen Zhuo."
"Hey, I lied to my parents that we're coming to Beijing to visit Tsinghua and Peking University, but actually I'm here to see my favorite character's real historical relics in person."
Shen Zheng suddenly snapped back to his senses.
He quickly turned his head to press for details, "Excuse me, did you say... there's a special exhibition for Wen Zhuo at the National Museum?"
The girl, caught off guard by this handsome, refined young man, froze for a moment before nodding. "That's right."
Shen Zheng felt as if every vein in his body had suddenly unclenched and flowed freely.
In the modern world he originally came from, little cat was a treacherous official ranked equal to Zhao Gao, and the historical records of the Qian Dynasty slandered him at every turn. Not a single scrap of his calligraphy survived, let alone being put on display at the National Museum.
What's more, these two people were calling Wen Zhuo 'Jade Chancellor' — a title reserved for the chief grand councilor, the highest-ranking official in the imperial court.
The fact that later generations had changed meant that everything he had experienced back in the Great Qian Dynasty was completely real!
Wen Zhuo once said his rebirth was brought on by that streak of white light. Now that the same light had carried Shen Zheng back to the modern day, could Wen Zhuo have ended up here too?
Shen Zheng forced himself to steady his breathing, his tone soft and tentative. "I'd love to go see that exhibition too. How do the history books evaluate Wen Zhuo?"
The girl's friend giggled. "Oh, come on, what do you think? He's the kind of man as elegant as jade orchid, so strikingly beautiful and fair that he's a peerless stunner. She's been so obsessed with him lately that she forgets to eat or sleep!"
"Ugh, stop being so silly!" the first girl said, pushing her friend away in embarrassment, then turned back to Shen Zheng, her tone earnest and full of admiration. "He was the chief grand councilor during the Hongyu reign of the Great Qian Dynasty. He pushed through new policies, rooted out long-standing corrupt practices, and modern scholars praise him as 'a renowned official once in a thousand years, whose kindness spread to every commoner, whose achievements brought glory to the nation, who won the heartfelt admiration of the people and the respect of the entire world'."
The second those words landed in his ears, Shen Zheng's eyes burned with sudden tears, and his anxious heart finally settled. He whispered under his breath, "Right... I remember now."
History had truly shifted. The unblemished, respected reputation Wen Zhuo had spent his whole life fighting for, was finally his.
"His good looks are the least impressive thing about him, honestly," the girl went on enthusiastically. "Once you go to the exhibition, you're definitely going to adore him. I can even send you links to a few well-researched history books if you want."
Shen Zheng was barely listening anymore. He had told Wen Zhuo bits and pieces about the modern world before, but Wen Zhuo was a total stranger here. If he ran into the wrong kind of people and got tricked into something, the consequences would be unthinkable!
He had been dropped right by the Yonghegong Lama Temple by the white light — but where would Wen Zhuo have ended up?
Could he still be in the Imperial Ancestral Hall inside the Forbidden City?
With that thought, Shen Zheng stepped back quickly. "Thank you! I'm already completely fond of him!"
He turned on his heel and dashed to the roadside, hailing a taxi. "Sir, take me to the Palace Museum, please!"
Wen Zhuo, once he had accepted that this place was Shen Zheng's homeland, gradually calmed down.
He had assumed people of later generations would be uncultured and rough, but to his surprise, every stranger he met was remarkably warm and welcoming.
He had only been standing outside the Imperial Ancestral Hall for a short while when several people stopped to talk to him. Some even held up a tiny palm-sized iron box, holding it right up to his face, doing something he could not make sense of.
He did not want to reveal his true identity, so he spoke very cautiously, only giving a slight nod when people asked if he was looking for someone.
"Ah... do you want to borrow my phone to call your friend?"
Wen Zhuo shook his head.
Shen Zheng had told him about phones before. He knew what the device was, but he had no idea how to operate it.
"You don't remember their number? Come on, I'll take you to the information desk to page them over the speakers."
"Thank you very much," Wen Zhuo said, giving a formal cupped-hand salute, and followed the stranger to the Jingshen Gate.
The staff there were just as welcoming. They led him to a seat and handed him a bottle of clear drinking water.
The container was so thin, transparent and lightweight that Wen Zhuo held it in his hands, hesitant to take a sip.
A staff member walked over with a smile. "Excuse me, sir, may I have your name?"
"Wen Zhuo," he replied, sitting perfectly straight, his manners immaculate.
"And what is the name of the friend you are looking for?"
Wen Zhuo hesitated for a split second. By tradition, he was not supposed to say the emperor's given name out loud, but he recalled Shen Zheng telling him that in this era, the former emperor was just an ordinary person, so he said softly, "Shen Zheng."
The staff member froze for a moment upon hearing this, then broke into a knowing smile. "What a fortunate coincidence."
Before long, the public announcement blared out, spreading across the entire Imperial Palace complex.
"Attention, Shen Zheng. Please proceed immediately to Jingyun Gate. Your friend Wen Zhuo is waiting for you there. Thank you for your cooperation!"
The announcement repeated several times. Wen Zhuo sat calmly in place, his expression unruffled.
The people who had led him here did not leave. They stood at a distance, observing him with curious yet entirely harmless gazes. Wen Zhuo had long grown used to being the center of public attention, so he paid it no mind.
The sun climbed steadily to its zenith, the heat of the day growing stronger, but Shen Zheng still had not arrived.
Someone handed him an unopened pack of tissues. Another passed over a folded fabric parasol. A third slipped him a skewer of grilled meat that smelled wonderfully fragrant. Others offered small trinkets carved with patterns of the palace buildings. In less than half an hour, a full pile of gifts from strangers had stacked up beside him.
Shen Zheng sat in the back of a taxi, quickly buying an admission ticket online. Luckily, it was a workday in the off-season, so there were plenty of tickets available.
He got out of the car, passed through the security checkpoint, and had just stepped onto the grey brick paths of the Forbidden City when the announcement drifted into his ears.
Shen Zheng felt a rush of heat through his entire body, and he broke into a full sprint straight toward Jingyun Gate.
He did not even need to ask for directions. From far away, he spotted the small crowd gathered by the gate.
As expected, with his beloved wife's looks, it was only natural that he would draw a crowd wherever he went.
He pushed through the onlookers and caught sight of Wen Zhuo seated right in the center at a single glance.
Wen Zhuo was still wearing his grand chancellor official robes, his face appearing calm and composed, but his fingers, tucked into the wide sleeves, were clenched tight into fists. Shen Zheng spotted his underlying anxiety in an instant.
"Wanshan!" Shen Zheng called to him.
Wen Zhuo lifted his head sharply, and his eyes lit up the second he heard the voice.
The watching tourists stared in amazement as the strikingly beautiful man who had been quiet and coolly reserved just moments before now stood up at the sound of the call, the corners of his eyes crinkling into an unplanned soft smile, and spread his arms open.
Right after that, the tall, broad-shouldered young man with deep, defined features hurried forward, pulled Wen Zhuo firmly into a tight embrace, and patted his back slowly in gentle, comforting strokes.
Many of the onlookers covered their mouths to hold back quiet gasps, their eyes shining with excitement.
Shen Zheng paid no attention to the commotion around him. He only leaned down to speak softly right by Wen Zhuo's ear, "You must have been spooked, huh?"
Wen Zhuo looped his arms around Shen Zheng's neck, his tone still as proper and dignified as ever. "The people of this later era are very warm and welcoming. This teacher is perfectly fine."
Shen Zheng glanced down and saw the heap of gifts Wen Zhuo had collected in such a short time, and he let out a soft chuckle. "I've always thought that if I ever got the chance, I'd bring my teacher back to this later era to see it for real. I never imagined it would actually happen. But I don't like seeing you being stared at by all these people. Let's go home."
Wen Zhuo buried his face against Shen Zheng's shoulder, still not quite used to the fact that Shen Zheng no longer had his long, softly curled hair, and was dressed in such unfamiliar, odd-looking modern clothes. "Back to the Palace of Heavenly Purity?" he asked.
"Not that palace," Shen Zheng explained to him in words he could easily understand. "I own a house in Qingping Mountain."
Wen Zhuo nodded gently. He remembered Shen Zheng telling him before that there were no imperial royal families in this later era, and that no one could live in the Forbidden City anymore, but the common people here lived far more peaceful, secure lives than they ever had in the Great Qian Dynasty.
The two of them walked side by side out of the crowd, moving slowly along the palace paths, until the surrounding area grew quiet.
Wen Zhuo stole a glance at Shen Zheng, and spoke in a tactful tone, "Qingping Mountain is very far from the imperial city."
That area was mostly made up of remote villages and rough, rural land. If Shen Zheng was living there, he must have a very modest household in this later era, too poor to afford a residence near the imperial city.
He sighed quietly to himself. If only his own Wen Manor still existed, they would have a proper home to return to together.
Shen Zheng did not catch the hidden implication in his words. "Didn't I tell you that the vehicles of later generations are extremely fast, even faster than riding the White Sand Steed? We'll arrive in no time."
Wen Zhuo let out a soft "oh" and unconsciously patted all over his body.
Today was the day of the ritual ceremony, so he was wearing a plain, simple robe and had not brought any valuable ornaments like jade pendants or gold hooks with him.
He frowned slightly. "If only I had brought a pendant with me. I could pawn it to buy a proper residence in the city for Your Majesty."
Shen Zheng suddenly stopped in his tracks, turned his head to look at him, and wore a half-amused, half-teasing expression. "Oh? Does Wanshan think I'm poor?"
The Qingping Mountain of the Great Qian Dynasty is located near what is now the Summer Palace.
Wen Zhuo's expression immediately turned solemn, and he spoke earnestly. "Your Majesty, though born of humble origins, holds volumes of poetry and books in your belly, has grand plans and far-sighted vision in your chest, and possesses a broad, unworldly mind. I have always admired you deeply, and there is not a sliver of disrespect in my heart."
Shen Zheng held back his laughter and pressed a quick kiss to his moving lips. "Fine, I am a bit short on money. But luckily, I can still afford to support my empress, and I would never let you end up wandering the streets with nowhere to go."
Wen Zhuo's ears twitched slightly, and he looked at Shen Zheng with a mix of doubt and hope. "Really?"
"Of course it's true."
Wen Zhuo struggled internally for quite a while, until he finally could not hold back any longer. "I just heard passersby say that this thing called ice cream is ridiculously expensive. Can Your Majesty... even afford it?"
He paused for a moment, then added the next line with careful, tentative expectation. "If you can afford it, this teacher would like one."
