For a while, silence settled inside the red-lacquered sedan chair.
Shen Zheng suddenly realized that, to the people of Great Qian, who turned pale at the mere mention of male love, what Wen Zhuo had said was the correct view. His own beliefs, by comparison, could be considered outrageous and heretical.
Even his displeasure at that moment seemed utterly inexplicable to Wen Zhuo.
Trying to overturn the common beliefs of an entire era was arrogant, presumptuous, and disrespectful.
It was only because he had always judged the actions of the ancients through the mindset of a modern man that he had treated certain things with a frivolity bordering on mockery.
But now that he had truly begun to admire Wen Zhuo, he had to respect his beliefs.
Now that he had truly begun to feel tenderness toward Wen Zhuo, he had to restrain his own presumption.
And now that he had realized he might have feelings for Wen Zhuo, it also meant he had to keep his distance.
Wen Zhuo had devoted all his thoughts to helping him seize the throne, sparing no effort and exhausting himself in the process. If Shen Zheng harbored improper intentions at a time like this—if he thought of changing Wen Zhuo’s inclinations, or of using imperial power to force him to submit once he gained power—then he would be nothing less than a tyrant destined to stink for ten thousand years.
Sigh. Human beings really were contradictory creatures.
With that thought, Shen Zheng rose. Without brushing against the hem of Wen Zhuo’s robe, he slipped out of the sedan.
Pinching the curtain between two fingers, he bent down and left him with a sentence. “I’ll head back first. Teacher, be sure to rest. Once I’ve finished the letter, I’ll have someone deliver it for you to review.”
Wen Zhuo could sense that he had something on his mind, but he could not understand where those troubled feelings had come from.
Shen Zheng had always been cheerful and easygoing in his presence. Though he was occasionally rather impolite, he was still the student who caused Wen Zhuo the least worry.
The only time Shen Zheng had ever darkened his expression was when he had mistakenly thought Wen Zhuo had taken some evil medicine from Nanping. In the end, it had been out of concern for him—he had even brought Wen Zhuo date rice cakes.
So why was he acting like this now?
Had something he said been inappropriate?
Yet Wen Zhuo had no experience dealing with conflicts between teacher and student. In his previous life, Shen Zhen had always indulged him, flattered him, and treated him with such painstaking care that he seemed almost like Wen Zhuo’s puppet—only revealing his wolfish ambition at the very end, once his purpose had been served.
In this life, Shen Zheng did not indulge him completely, but Wen Zhuo still was not accustomed to lowering his head or softening his stance before someone who was both a prince and his student.
Besides, he had no idea what the problem was.
After a pause, five fair, delicate fingers emerged from beneath his official robe and, seemingly without intention, reached toward the sedan seat that had been so cramped moments earlier.
He lifted his chin slightly and pretended to speak indifferently. “…I’ll have them replace this sedan with a larger one another day. It’s terribly cramped.”
That way, you can ride with me to your heart’s content in the future.
Do you understand?
Shen Zheng glanced once more at the narrow sedan seat and tugged up the corners of his lips. “No need. My mother says she’s going to teach me how to ride. I probably won’t have a chance to crowd you anymore, Teacher.”
Wen Zhuo watched him jump down from the sedan. Shen Zheng gently stroked the shaft, then retreated several paces and stood there with impeccable courtesy, watching as the sedan departed.
“…”
Wen Zhuo suddenly felt a dull tightness in his chest, as though he could barely breathe.
Shen Zheng had actually become so proper and formal—and he no longer wanted to share a sedan with him?!
The sedan returned to the Wen residence. As usual, Wen Zhuo hopped down, and the servant hurried over to ask, “My lord, when shall we replace the sedan with a larger one?”
Preferably one with a wider shaft, a more comfortable ride, and a more splendid appearance. It would make him look more dignified when he rode in it.
Wen Zhuo stopped and said with a stiff expression, “We’re poor. We’re not replacing it.”
The servant: “…”
The moment he entered, Jiang Mannü cheerfully handed him a cup of warm tea. “My lord, the meal is ready. I prepared it according to the recipe the prince gave us. He said it would replenish iron and something called… vitamins? He said it would be good for your health.”
Jiang Mannü did not understand the details either. Iron was clearly used to make weapons, so why had the prince said that people needed to replenish it as well? And vitamins were something she had never even heard of.
But the prince had said that my lord’s poor health was caused by an imbalanced diet, resulting in a weak immune system and insufficient qi and blood. If he ate according to this recipe, he would gradually recover.
Upon hearing this, Wen Zhuo felt even more stifled.
In any case, Shen Zheng would be learning to ride from now on. What he ate was none of Wen Zhuo’s concern!
“I want a bowl of candied jujube soup.”
“We don’t have any.”
“…Then I’ll have snowflake pastries.”
“We don’t have those either.”
“Then bring me some date rice cakes.”
“My lord, we really don’t have those.”
Wen Zhuo turned around in confusion. “Why do you listen to him so obediently?”
Jiang Mannü scratched her head. Wasn’t the prince doing it for your sake, too?
Liu Qiying emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate and raised an eyebrow as she gave Wen Zhuo a look. “My lord, what happened today to put you in such a bad mood?”
Wen Zhuo turned his head away. “I am not in a bad mood.”
“No way,” Liu Qiying teased.
“I said I am not.” Wen Zhuo swept arrogantly into his bedroom and slammed the door shut with a bang.
Inside the Eastern Palace’s Hall of Literary Brilliance—
Crown Prince Shen Zhen was in a towering rage. He had cursed and grumbled all the way back to the palace, and every palace servant who passed by covered their ears and hurried away, not daring to listen.
“Just look at the way he fawns over the eldest prince! It’s utterly disgraceful!” Shen Zhen paced furiously around the Hall of Literary Brilliance. Then he strode over to Gong Zhiyuan in a single burst of movement and said, aggrieved and furious, “Chief Minister, I’m the Crown Prince! And yet he actually said the eldest prince looked like the Crown Prince!”
Gong Zhiyuan closed his eyes and patiently urged him, “Your Highness, please calm down. I believe the Fifth Prince was deliberately trying to show favor to Prince Xian today. Though we do not yet know his exact purpose, provoking you was likely something he did for Prince Xian to see.”
“Do you think I don’t know he did it on purpose? That Fifth Prince is trouble the moment he returns. One Springtide Chess Gathering cost me dearly, and now all the vacant posts in the various ministries have been filled with newcomers. No one echoes anything I say in court anymore!”
Gong Zhiyuan was far more composed than Shen Zhen. After pondering for a moment, he murmured, “His Majesty has ordered Jun Dingyuan to return to court, so he will certainly need to assign him a position. Because of the fallout from the Eight Arteries case, Song Chiwei, the commander-in-chief of the Three Garrisons, was demoted after the Springtide Chess Gathering. His Majesty has delayed filling the post, and I suspect he intends to reserve it for Jun Dingyuan. Prince Xian has a chief commander under his authority, but that man is stationed in Liangzhou, and His Majesty rarely thinks of him. As for Your Highness, your deputy commander-in-chief is entirely qualified for the position. In that case, we and Jun Dingyuan will find ourselves in direct competition. That must be the reason the Fifth Prince is trying to curry favor with Prince Xian.”
Shen Zhen’s eyes flew open, as though he had suddenly awakened from a dream.
“You mean the Fifth Prince wants to join forces with the eldest prince against me?”
A dark cast settled over Gong Zhiyuan’s brows, and his cheeks appeared slightly hollow. “What I fear is that this Fifth Prince may also harbor ambitions against the throne.”
At that, Shen Zhen threw back his head and laughed. He raised a hand and pointed toward the entrance of the Hall of Literary Brilliance. “Him? He thinks he can covet my position as Crown Prince?”
Gong Zhiyuan looked at the Crown Prince but did not join him in his mockery. His tone grew increasingly grave.
“When it comes to influence within the military, our dynasty has long had a saying: ‘Liu in the south, Jun in the north.’ Twelve years ago, Liu Kangren suffered a defeat, and Duke Liu’s prestige among the military has declined ever since. Now Jun Dingyuan has emerged like a force from nowhere, and in terms of momentum, he has already surpassed Duke Liu. The Fifth Prince has the Jun family’s support, and after gaining fame through that divine game, he has risen considerably in the eyes of the court. Even if the ministers say nothing aloud, they are already holding him in higher regard.”
“His Majesty’s health was still robust last year. He worried that one of his sons might eclipse his authority, so he allowed you and Prince Xian to check and exhaust one another. But this year, his health has deteriorated considerably. He must now consider the future of Great Qian. No matter how unwilling he may be, he will have to choose a wise ruler to whom he can entrust the realm.”
“Isn’t the wise ruler me? Chief Minister, didn’t Father choose me as Crown Prince because he intends to pass the empire on to me?” Shen Zhen reacted vehemently. In truth, he knew perfectly well that becoming Crown Prince had ultimately depended on nothing more than a single word from Emperor Shunyuan.
Without military power in his hands, he was still a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
Gong Zhiyuan had begun giving Shen Zhen lectures at the imperial academy even before he became Crown Prince. Thus, when Empress Cao died after Emperor Shunyuan fell ill, Gong Zhiyuan took advantage of the emperor’s guilt and joined with Grand Secretaries Luo Mingpu and Liu Chenming to recommend that Shen Zhen be made Crown Prince.
Liu Chenming was, after all, the Minister of Rites. Citing the old regulations established since the founding emperor’s reign, he delivered a long and persuasive argument that eventually swayed Emperor Shunyuan.
But Gong Zhiyuan knew very well that without Empress Cao’s death, Shen Zhen would never have secured the position of Crown Prince.
“Under the previous dynasty, once the emperor appointed a Crown Prince, his adult sons would be granted titles, given estates, moved out of the palace, and strictly forbidden from participating in politics. Yet His Majesty has done nothing of the sort. Aside from granting the First Prince a title, he has kept all his other adult sons in the palace. They have neither titles nor residences of their own and continue to live in the princes’ quarters.”
“Even Prince Xian has been allowed to participate in political affairs. This is His Majesty’s way of reminding the Crown Prince to watch his words and actions. Otherwise, there will always be someone who can replace him.”
Shen Zhen panicked and seized Gong Zhiyuan by the sleeve. “Chief Minister, what am I supposed to do?”
Gong Zhiyuan said gravely, “We absolutely cannot allow another Prince Xian to emerge. If only we could suppress Jun Dingyuan and take control of the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Three Great Garrisons.”
But this matter would have to be handled gradually. At present, Gong Zhiyuan had no foolproof plan.
In the blink of an eye, dusk arrived.
Wen Zhuo was practicing calligraphy in his study. He had just written the inscription and completed the stroke that finished the character “Wan” when his rhythm was abruptly interrupted. He had not yet written the character “shan.”
Staring at the half-finished name without raising his eyes, he asked, “Who is it?”
Jiang Mannü replied, “Someone from Consort Liang’s palace.”
Wen Zhuo’s lips tightened. The hand gripping his brush trembled, and a drop of ink fell, staining the rice paper.
“Hmph. That’s only natural. It’s merely a letter. Of course she wouldn’t need to come in person.”
Jiang Mannü said, “Huh?” Why couldn’t she understand what he meant?
Wen Zhuo slammed the brush onto the desk. He crumpled the flawed sheet of paper into a ball and swept it beneath the table with his sleeve.
From now on, no student was to call him Wanshan!
“This brush is no good. It can’t hold ink. Replace it tomorrow.” Wen Zhuo flicked his sleeve, clasped his hands behind his back, and strode out.
Jiang Mannü lowered her head and glanced at the brush. “But isn’t this a purple-hare brush that cost ten taels of silver?”
“…Pawn it tomorrow.”
Jiang Mannü understood. Someone had upset him again, and he was taking it out on the brush.
Still, he had not lost his reason to the point of disregarding ten taels of silver, which meant the matter could not be too serious.
Humming a tune, Jiang Mannü picked up the paper ball, rinsed the brush clean, and put it back in its place, pretending she had not heard him.
When Wen Zhuo reached the main hall, Consort Liang’s trusted aide was already waiting inside.
Consort Liang had a fiery temperament and acted briskly. She had written the letter to Jun Dingyuan that very day and sent someone to deliver it to Wen Zhuo for his inspection.
That day, Wen Zhuo had not told her the truth. Instead, he had said, “When Liu Kangren was defeated in the past, some of our Great Qian soldiers were captured and reduced to laborers in Nanping. In the end, they died far from home. Their families were unable to retrieve their remains, and ten years have already passed. General Jun is returning in triumph, laden with glory. If he were to leave the remains of those comrades behind in a foreign land, would that not chill the hearts of the veterans along the southern frontier?”
“I deceived the Nanping envoy by claiming that there was a secret treasure in the general’s camp, one that would determine the outcome of the war. I ask that General Jun cooperate and put on a convincing show. Nanping will surely send spies to investigate the damaged treasure. When the spies are caught, we can exchange them with Nanping for the remains of our old comrades and bring them all back to the capital for burial, thereby reassuring the people.”
Upon hearing this, Consort Liang had regarded Wen Zhuo with solemn admiration and immediately clasped her hands in the military salute. “Director Wen, though you occupy a position at court and have never set foot on a battlefield, you can still understand the desolation of those buried far from home and think so carefully on behalf of Great Qian’s veterans. I am ashamed by comparison. I will make certain my younger brother follows your instructions. We must bring our old comrades’ remains home!”
Wen Zhuo hurriedly stopped her, smiling faintly. “Your Highness need not do that. Instead, please remind General Jun that although this is a great act of kindness, on his journey back to the capital, he must make sure that the people along the route and the local government offices all know that we are doing good deeds and acting with benevolence—and that we must also reap the good fruits of those deeds. At a time like this, he absolutely must not pretend to be aloof and above worldly concerns.”
Consort Liang nodded. “I understand. We need the people to know that my brother is not merely a God of War, but also a benevolent general who loves his soldiers as dearly as his own children and commands their heartfelt loyalty. When the time comes, if he supports my son, public sentiment will naturally favor him.”
Wen Zhuo unfolded the letter and looked it over. Consort Liang’s wording was entirely appropriate. The two pages were filled with righteous conviction and earnest admonitions, while the handwriting was neat and elegant—fully befitting a noblewoman from a distinguished family.
Only the final sentence bore her unmistakably personal style:
“If anything goes wrong, don’t blame your sister when my fists come down on you!”
Wen Zhuo folded the letter and said to the palace guard disguised in ordinary clothing, “There’s nothing wrong with it. Does Consort Liang have a token to send with the letter?”
The guard nodded, his manner polished and proper. “Of course.”
Wen Zhuo nodded. “The letter can be sent. After this, Her Highness need not do anything else. She should act as though she knows nothing about the matter. Above all, do not arouse Consort Yi’s suspicions.”
“This subordinate will relay your message to Her Highness.”
With that, the guard stepped forward to take the letter. He spread out both hands, but Wen Zhuo merely held the letter up instead of placing it in his palms.
The guard: “?”
The guard asked, “Director, is there anything else?”
Wen Zhuo looked away and gazed at the patterns on the rafters. “What could there be? Just go and report to Her Highness and His Highness.”
The guard hurriedly extended his hand again.
The letter still did not fall into it.
The guard: “…”
Just then, Liu Qiying passed by the corridor carrying a stack of clothes. She poked her head in and asked, “Huh? Why hasn’t His Highness come?”
The guard quickly replied, “Oh, His Highness is currently being forced by Her Highness to practice horseback riding. Her Highness says that no member of the Jun family should be unable to ride or shoot.”
Plop.
The letter dropped into the guard’s palm.
By then, Director Wen had already stalked off, puffed up with indignation.
Shen Zheng had no idea that the little cat-like minister had already revoked his privilege of sharing the red lacquered sedan, as well as his right to address him as Wanshan despite the difference in rank. He did not even have the chance to defend himself in person.
He was enduring the most difficult day he had experienced since crossing into this world.
At the imperial practice grounds, Consort Liang was watching him ride back and forth again and again.
In fact, his claim that he got motion sickness on horseback had only been a trick to tease Wen Zhuo. Back in the modern world, he had taken riding lessons for a while and had a decent foundation. But that recreational sport was on an entirely different level from the mounted archery Consort Liang demanded of him.
If Shen Zheng had not still been young and had not spent the past two months diligently strengthening his body, this white horse would have shaken him apart by now.
It was already dusk. Along the horizon, a magnificent crimson tide had spread across the sky, and the blazing clouds seemed to scorch the pure-white back of the horse.
The white horse threw back its head and neighed, its forelegs leaping high into the air. Its mane scattered like fine sand in the rosy glow.
Shen Zheng clamped his legs around the stirrups. His body rose with the horse’s movement, his left hand gripping the reins for dear life while his right held tightly to the saddle. At last, he conquered this fine steed known as Treading White Sands.
After dismounting, Shen Zheng collapsed directly onto the sand. The sunset brushed against the edges of his boots as he spread out both hands and panted heavily.
Both palms had been rubbed raw by the reins, leaving two deep blood-red grooves. His legs had been chafed so badly that he could barely move.
The ancients—truly, they had suffered from the lack of modern technology.
Why ride a horse called Treading White Sands? A Mustang would have been much better.
Consort Liang was dressed in riding gear. As she stroked the horse’s back, she said with satisfaction, “Not bad. My son really is a son of the northern frontier—riding this well on his very first try.”
Shen Zheng thought to himself, Have I ever even been to the northern frontier?
But seeing the yearning in Consort Liang’s eyes for the wilderness of the north, for the grasslands and vast deserts, he understood that the rich food, fine clothes, bustle, and splendor of the capital could never truly confine a soul born beneath the open sky.
Unable to hold back, Shen Zheng asked, “Mother, if you like riding and fighting so much, why did you marry Father in the first place?”
Consort Liang replied calmly, “The Emperor summoned your grandfather back from the northern frontier and forcibly stripped him of his military authority. As compensation, he had no choice but to marry me and make me Consort Liang. From then on, the Jun family became imperial relatives, and he naturally granted your grandfather a marquisate.”
Shen Zheng propped himself up on one elbow and pressed, “What about you? Did you like Father?”
“Like him?” Consort Liang gave a soft laugh, apparently surprised that her son would ask such a question, but she answered all the same. “I was only nineteen when I entered the palace. Your father was already thirty-three. He could neither ride nor shoot, nor wield a sword or spear. What was there for me to like?”
Shen Zheng had not expected his mother to speak so boldly. He hurriedly turned his head and glanced around.
Consort Liang simply sat down on the sand as well, folding her legs beneath her. Her back remained straight. “They’re all my trusted people. There’s no need to worry.”
Shen Zheng sighed. “Even taking a wife has to be calculated and weighed from every angle, with gains and losses carefully considered. If there isn’t even a shred of genuine affection between husband and wife, what’s the point of being emperor?”
Seeing that his thoughts were heading in the wrong direction, Consort Liang hurriedly corrected him in a stern voice. “For a ruler, responsibility comes before everything else. If he can govern the country well and bring peace to the people, then such choices are understandable.”
“I disagree.” One of Shen Zheng’s legs had gone numb, and when he tried to shift to the other, he accidentally brushed against his wound. He sucked in a sharp breath from the pain, but still finished his thought earnestly. “Why must marriage be used as a transaction in order to govern a country well? A person’s energy is limited. If I became emperor, I would marry only one person and give that one person my whole heart.”
Consort Liang stared at her son in astonishment, then suddenly smiled. “That is a novel way of putting it. In all history, I have never heard of such a thing.”
Shen Zheng smiled too. Both his palms had already begun to turn purplish.
He gazed at the fading glow on the horizon, at the sun that rose and set in eternal, unchanging cycles, and said softly, “Perhaps in the future, marrying only one person will be the normal thing.”
By the time darkness had fully settled, Shen Zheng was spooning up his porridge. The medicine applied to his palms and legs had eased the pain somewhat, but the thought of having to practice riding for the next several days made him wish he could faint on the spot.
Just before the palace gates were locked for the night, the guards finally returned with their report.
They said that the letter and token had been sent to the southern border by a specially assigned courier. Once the courier reached Kanzhou, he would use carrier pigeons to send the message, which would arrive more quickly than any messenger dispatched from the palace.
Consort Liang relaxed slightly. “You’ve worked hard. Go get some rest.”
Shen Zheng lowered his head and swallowed the last mouthful of porridge. Casually, he asked, “What did Director Wen do today?”
The guard answered truthfully, “Oh, Director Wen spent the entire day practicing his calligraphy. He must have grown tired, because by dusk his back had begun to ache and his mood had worsened. Still, he insisted on seeing the Nanping envoy leave the city in person the day after tomorrow. By the time I left, Miss Liu had no choice but to call for the physician to perform acupuncture.”
The spoon struck the bottom of the bowl with a loud clang.
Shen Zheng abruptly raised his head. “You said he had acupuncture again?”
Remembering how frightened Wen Zhuo was of it, Shen Zheng hurriedly reached for his outer robe. But the pain in his palm made him flinch, and the robe slipped from his grasp.
He steeled himself, snatched up the robe, and threw it over his shoulders. “I’m going to see him!”
Consort Liang said helplessly, “There’s no point in rushing. The palace gates are locked now. You can’t get out.”
Night had deepened, and the entire city lay silent. In the Wen residence, only the bedchamber still glowed with the wavering light of candle flames.
Wen Zhuo lay on his side on the brocade couch, covered by a thin cloud-silk quilt. His plain undergarment had slipped loosely down past his shoulders, exposing a slender back where every bone seemed visible beneath the skin.
The old physician stroked his goatee after taking his pulse. “The Director’s heart-fire is obstructed, and his muscles and bones are overstrained. I’ll place more than a dozen needles in his shoulders, back, and arms to open the meridians. It should ease the pain within an hour or two.”
As he spoke, he took several extremely fine silver needles from his roll of medical cloth. Pinching one by the end, he passed its tip lightly through the candle flame. Carrying a faint warmth from the fire, it descended toward the pale back of Wen Zhuo’s hand.
The needle entered the skin almost imperceptibly—
then, with a sudden application of force, began to twist slowly deeper into the flesh.
Wen Zhuo’s entire body stiffened. His spine drew taut, his head turning forcefully toward the wall as his black hair spilled messily across the pillow.
His legs instinctively drew together toward his lower abdomen. Every nerve in his body felt like a bow pulled to its limit, and even his breathing fell into disarray.
His skin was naturally thin, and the blood vessels beneath it were as fine as strands of hair. At the point where the needle entered, a tiny bead of scarlet blood welled beside the tip, like a drop of red ink falling from a brush.
“My lord!” Liu Qiying stood anxiously beside the couch. Turning toward the old physician, she pleaded, “Can’t you massage him instead? That shoulder-well point, or the temples?”
“Massage is gentler, but it takes longer to work, and it isn’t as precise as acupuncture. These needles go straight into the acupoints and save considerable time.”
Wen Zhuo’s soft voice came from beneath the thin quilt. “Don’t trouble yourself. You don’t know where the acupoints are anyway. Do as he says. I’m used to it by now.”
Liu Qiying bit her lip and reached out to pull his collar back over his shoulder. “Then please be gentle, Physician. Our lord is afraid of pain.”
The old physician smiled at that and had already picked up a second needle. “Oh, it’s nothing. He only needs to bear with it. The Director isn’t undergoing acupuncture for the first time, after all.”
The moment he finished speaking, the silver needles pierced Wen Zhuo’s Hegu, Quchi, and Neiguan points in quick succession.
Though he had turned his eyes away, Wen Zhuo could still clearly feel the needles rotating beneath his skin, pressing deeper. At first there was only the faint warmth of the candle flame, but in an instant it transformed into an invasive chill. The cold spread along his meridians. He did not dare move even a fraction, afraid that any motion would tug at the needle tips and make the ordeal even harder to endure.
And this was only the beginning. Several more needles still had to be placed in his shoulders and back.
The red candle by the edge of the bed flickered. Whenever a needle caught the light, a trembling shadow appeared on the wall behind him, allowing him to calculate the exact moment each one would descend.
He did not know whether the congestion in his meridians had worsened today or whether the physician’s hand was unsteady, but the pain seemed especially severe.
Wen Zhuo bit down on one corner of the brocade quilt without making a sound. His lashes hung low, their tips touched by tiny fragments of candlelight.
