Jun Mulan had always worried about the young child on the mountain. She had originally intended to entrust Young Wen Zhuo to the care of a maid who remained in the county town. With the maid there to keep them in check, surely the Wen family would no longer dare make things difficult for the child.
She exerted a little strength, intending to set the child in her arms down. To her surprise, Young Wen Zhuo seemed to see through her intentions and voluntarily loosened the little hands clutching her collar.
Once she had gently placed him on the ground, he merely held back his tears and looked up at her, his small hand gripping the edge of her clothing. He did not cling to her in the slightest.
That look tugged fiercely at Jun Mulan’s heart.
It was not that he did not yearn for this brief moment of protection. He simply knew he was unworthy of it and did not dare ask for more.
Jun Mulan was silent for a moment before bending down to ask, “Would you like to come with me to Zhe Mountain?”
Young Wen Zhuo froze briefly, then nodded with all his might.
Jun Mulan turned to the anxious Lin Yingniang. “I’ll bring him back before sunset.”
How could Lin Yingniang dare stop her?
Jun Mulan lifted Young Wen Zhuo into her arms once more, tucked him against her elbow, and strode out of the ancestral hall.
She mounted her horse, protecting the child with one arm while taking up the reins with the other. The horse’s hooves kicked up clouds of dust as they rode away.
On the jolting horseback, Young Wen Zhuo pressed himself tightly against Jun Mulan’s waist, hardly daring to breathe as he watched the Wen residence grow farther and farther away.
Only after Jun Mulan’s figure had vanished completely did Wen Yingjing and the group of clan elders scramble to their feet.
Wen Yingjing shouted, “Quick! Take the young master to have his injuries treated!”
The First Madam rushed over to Lin Yingniang. She had nearly raised her hand to slap her, but forced herself to stop at the last moment. Instead, she jabbed a finger viciously against Lin Yingniang’s forehead. “This is all because of the wretch you brought here!”
Lin Yingniang clutched the folds of her skirt and lowered her head even further, not daring to argue.
Looking at her cringing, submissive, and resigned manner, Wen Zhuo was suddenly overwhelmed by a profound sense of helplessness.
Shen Zheng had been right. This was Lin Yingniang’s burden to bear. Whether he was the child he had once been or the man he was now, he had no power to lift such a fragile fate.
Upon returning to Zhe Mountain, Jun Mulan’s skirt was dust-stained, while Young Wen Zhuo stumbled slightly when he dismounted.
Jun Mulan reached out and steadied him, and he immediately regained his footing.
“Teacher, you didn’t seem so afraid of riding when you were young,” Shen Zheng said with a soft laugh.
Wen Zhuo replied, “I was only pretending.”
Because he knew Jun Mulan’s status was exalted, he had not dared to trouble her, much less hope for anything more.
Shen Zheng suddenly understood. “So, when I taught you to ride later on, you were willing to show your weakness in front of me because you felt you could rely on me?”
The tips of Wen Zhuo’s ears reddened. Pretending not to hear, he hurried toward the temple.
Shen Zheng caught him from behind and wrapped an arm around his waist, refusing to let him escape. “Mother wasn’t as attentive as I am. You already had feelings for me back then, Wanshan, didn’t you?”
Held tightly in his arms, Wen Zhuo could not move. His ears turned even redder as he answered in a low voice, “Yes.”
The chanting within the temple continued without pause. The young prince sat in the middle of a cushion, surrounded by monks, while Faji sat at the head, murmuring prayers.
Jun Mulan did not dare disturb them. This was Young Wen Zhuo’s first time entering the ancient temple, yet he showed not the slightest curiosity. Instead, he remained obediently where he was, making not a sound.
About an hour later, Ying Xingluo emerged from the dense forest.
There had been many outsiders coming to Wangxiang Temple recently, and he was somewhat wary of strangers, so he often hid in the mountains.
But the moment he stepped into the temple courtyard that day, his gaze was drawn to Young Wen Zhuo. For some reason, the child looked remarkably similar to him.
He approached softly, crouched down, and studied Young Wen Zhuo’s face with great care.
Young Wen Zhuo held his breath and stared back in astonishment. For an instant, he nearly thought his mother had come looking for him.
Ying Xingluo had little fondness for the outsiders, yet for some reason, he could not bring himself to dislike Young Wen Zhuo. Acting on some inexplicable impulse, he reached out and lightly touched the child’s cheek with his fingertip.
Young Wen Zhuo neither dodged nor fussed. He slowly lifted his own small hand and touched Ying Xingluo’s face in return.
A flicker of surprise passed through Ying Xingluo’s eyes. He then reached into his robes, took out a wild fruit, and held it out to the child.
Young Wen Zhuo curved his eyes at him, revealing the faintest of smiles.
Caught off guard by that smile, Ying Xingluo suddenly became flustered. He sprang to his feet, swayed unsteadily, then turned and ran toward the meditation rooms in the rear courtyard.
At last, the chanting came to an end. A young monk handed Faji a bowl of water, and Faji rose and drained it in one go.
Jun Mulan hurried forward and lifted the young prince from his cushion.
During the daily chanting, the young prince was always quiet, seeming half-asleep and wholly unresponsive to the world around him.
He was still the same now, and Jun Mulan had long since grown accustomed to it.
Young Wen Zhuo was curious about the prince, so he leaned against the temple doors and peeked over at the child in Jun Mulan’s arms.
The young prince wore soft golden-yellow robes. His little face was clean and fair, and a gold bracelet set with a red gemstone encircled his wrist. His dark hair lay softly against his head, the ends curling ever so slightly.
Looking at his younger self, Wen Zhuo murmured, “I must have been envious of you. You could take Mother’s embrace for granted.”
Shen Zheng’s heart ached. Deliberately teasing him, he said, “But later on, you had my embrace.”
During the period when Wen Zhuo underwent therapy, he had also learned quite a bit about medicine. He had no doubt whatsoever that Shen Zheng suffered from “hugging syndrome.”
Just then, Young Shen Zheng’s eyes suddenly moved. Following Young Wen Zhuo’s gaze, he looked over.
He was clearly startled, but he made no sound. The previously wooden little face abruptly came alive.
Seeing him look over, Young Wen Zhuo no longer dared to peek around. He simply stepped out from behind the door and stood there properly.
Young Shen Zheng stared at him and blinked. His dark eyes shifted from side to side, as though he were seeing the world clearly for the first time.
Jun Mulan noticed the change in her son and quickly turned her head back. Her heart gave a jolt.
Young Shen Zheng’s gaze had completely changed. The emptiness of the past was gone. He was curiously surveying his surroundings, and in the end, his eyes settled once more on Young Wen Zhuo. The corners of his pursed lips moved slightly.
Faji hurried forward and placed two fingers against the young prince’s heart. A moment later, a relieved smile appeared on his face.
“Congratulations, Your Highness. The young prince’s soul has returned.”
Jun Mulan could hardly believe it. Her voice trembled. “Truly?!”
Faji pressed his palms together and lowered his eyes. “The prince is still young, and his heart meridians have yet to stabilize. If the danger within the palace is not eliminated, someone may attempt to harm him again. Your Highness should remain at Zhe Mountain for some time. There is no need to return to the capital until the prince is completely out of danger.”
Jun Mulan immediately set the child down and lifted her skirt, preparing to kneel. “Thank you, Master, for saving his life!”
Faji reached out and helped her to her feet.
Watching the lively and spirited young prince, Wen Zhuo hesitantly said to Shen Zheng, “Did you… travel back in time?”
Shen Zheng stared at that small face. After a long silence, he said blankly, “Wait. Just how old a version of me came through?”
Young Shen Zheng was placed on the ground. He sneaked a few glances at Jun Mulan and the monks filling the hall. Deciding that the Young Wen Zhuo standing by the door posed the least threat, he began taking unsteady steps toward him.
Although Young Wen Zhuo was still very young, he knew perfectly well that there was a strict difference in status between him and the prince. He hurriedly imitated the others, bent his knees, and knelt in reverence before Young Shen Zheng.
The sudden kneeling startled Young Shen Zheng badly.
His legs were already unsteady, and he immediately fell to his knees with a thump as well. Inarticulately, he blurted out, “Holy crap!”
No one else could make out what was said, but Shen Zheng heard it loud and clear. He couldn’t help but raise a hand to his forehead. “Oh no. It’s the schoolboy version of me.”
Wen Zhuo looked puzzled. “What does ‘schoolboy’ mean?”
Shen Zheng sighed helplessly. “It means the chūnibyō version of Yours Truly—someone who knows absolutely nothing about political intrigue, has never studied physics, chemistry, biology, history, geography, or politics, can’t make cotton candy or bake a cake, and isn’t good for much of anything.”
Jun Mulan turned around. Seeing the two children kneeling forehead to forehead on the ground, looking adorably foolish, she couldn’t help but freeze.
Young Wen Zhuo looked a little flustered. Carefully picking up Young Shen Zheng, he lowered his eyes and asked respectfully, “Your Highness, where were you trying to go just now...?”
Young Shen Zheng: “...”
His soft little hands rested on Young Wen Zhuo’s shoulders. Suddenly, he noticed that Young Wen Zhuo’s clothes were rough and stiff, chafing terribly, while the fabric of his own clothes was smooth and wonderfully comfortable.
“Get up... why’re you kneelin’ here?” he asked, furrowing his tiny brows as he struggled to tug at Young Wen Zhuo’s arm.
Unfortunately, his fingers were too short. He only managed to pull the sleeve upward, revealing bruises of varying shades covering the boy’s arm.
Young Shen Zheng fell silent at once. His little mouth hung slightly open as he stared at the bruises in disbelief.
Though the child’s question was garbled and unclear, Young Wen Zhuo somehow understood him. He rose silently, but did not dare pull his sleeve from the other boy’s grasp. He could only let that small hand continue clutching him.
Young Shen Zheng held his breath and gently touched the bruises. Only then did he realize how cold Young Wen Zhuo’s body was. Those thin clothes were nowhere near enough to keep out the chill of the mountain.
Jun Mulan strode over. Acting on instinct, Young Shen Zheng turned around and spread his arms, staggering as he placed himself in front of Young Wen Zhuo. His little face was full of wariness, as though he were facing a formidable enemy.
Watching this, Wen Zhuo’s eyes softened. “The schoolboy emperor may know nothing of the world, but he still knows to protect me.”
Shen Zheng couldn’t help curving his lips upward. He thought to himself, So I’ve possessed the makings of a devoted husband since I was little.
Jun Mulan was both astonished and delighted. She had never expected that after his soul returned, her son would already be so quick-witted.
Only then did Faji notice Young Wen Zhuo. The moment he got a clear look at the boy’s features, he instinctively glanced toward the rear courtyard.
Then he slowly stepped forward and stood there for a moment before bringing his palms together. He sighed with emotion. “This child’s destiny is extraordinary, and he shares a profound bond with the prince.”
Jun Mulan had never imagined that a chance rescue would lead to such an opportunity.
“It seems this is all the will of Heaven.”
Because Young Wen Zhuo had won the prince’s favor, his position in the Wen household changed completely.
Jun Mulan specifically sent Lin Yingniang a large bundle of jeweled hairpins and fine brocades. Lin Yingniang kowtowed in frightened gratitude. Two days later, after being thoroughly washed and tidied up, Young Wen Zhuo was sent up the mountain to accompany the young prince.
The monks of the mountain were compassionate, and no one bullied him. Young Wen Zhuo was very comfortable at Wangxiang Temple.
The youth whose features strongly resembled his mother had never spoken to him, yet when he noticed that Young Wen Zhuo still wore only a thin, old garment at night, he wrapped the robe Faji had sewn for himself tightly around the boy.
Young Wen Zhuo’s heart warmed, and he grew especially fond of this mysterious youth who appeared and disappeared without a trace.
Afraid of being disliked, he never allowed himself to idle. Whenever he saw that the monks’ clothes were dirty, he would take the wooden tub and carry it to the mountain stream, where he used the clear spring water to wash them.
The sun was shining warmly on him now, and the mountain stream burbled along. Bent over with his back curved, he worked hard, beating the coarse robes with a laundry paddle.
Water droplets splashed across his handsome, fair face, soaking the soft hair at his temples.
Young Shen Zheng came wobbling over on unsteady little legs.
Young Wen Zhuo hurriedly straightened up, wiped the water from his face with his sleeve, and rubbed his reddened, frozen hands before kneeling to salute. “Greetings, Your Highness.”
“Ugh...” The tiny face let out a sigh. He truly couldn’t stand these feudal formalities, so with a loud clatter, he simply knelt down as well and asked in a babyish, garbled voice, “How ol’ are ya?”
“This commoner is eight.” Young Wen Zhuo hurriedly reached out and lifted the soft, cuddly little prince into his arms. He wondered inwardly why His Highness fell over every time he saw him.
Young Shen Zheng declared with utmost seriousness, “Shh, I’m two years older than you. Ya gotta call me big bro.”
Young Wen Zhuo glanced quickly at him, secretly uneasy. Could His Highness’s illness not be completely cured yet...?
Fortunately, he had already learned to read the situation. He did not point out that the prince was only two years old, but obediently called him, “Big brother.”
Shen Zheng couldn’t help laughing. “Excellent. I’ve known how to take advantage of my empress since I was little.”
