Wen Zhuo and Shen Zheng made their way through the secret passage. Since they had not brought a lamp, Shen Zheng led the way, his palm clasped around Wen Zhuo’s hand. They proceeded at an unhurried pace.
The only sounds around them were the faint rustle of their sleeves brushing against the stone walls and their own steady breathing.
“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” Shen Zheng’s voice was lowered to a near whisper, carried over by the damp air.
Wen Zhuo pressed his lips into a thin line. “…I can manage.”
Shen Zheng rubbed his thumb over Wen Zhuo’s palm and chuckled softly. “Teacher, you’re sweating from nerves.”
Wen Zhuo thought to himself that it wasn’t because he was nervous.
The dry, rough warmth of Shen Zheng’s hand traveled from his sensitive palm all the way to his heart, burning as it went.
His other hand remained pressed against the stone wall, where he encountered another patch of moisture-laden dampness that left his fingertips icy cold.
Caught between these strange extremes of heat and chill, he stumbled along for a quarter of an hour. Then, all at once, the passage opened up before him, and the scent of pine oil drifted over.
Guided by the light of a pine-oil lamp, they climbed the steps. Shen Zheng knocked on the stone wall in a rhythm of three short knocks, one long knock, and two more. With a creak, the stone wall swung open, revealing the study of the Marquis Yongning’s residence.
Mo Shu, Jun Dingyuan, and the Marquis of Yongning had been waiting for them for some time.
The injury on Mo Shu’s ankle had already healed. When he saw Wen Zhuo, he immediately rose and bowed deeply.
“Thank you, Director Wen, for saving my life.”
Remembering the anguish of watching Mo Shu seek death in his previous life, Wen Zhuo finally felt the regret and guilt in his heart dissipate.
“There’s no need to thank me.” He helped Mo Shu up, then said to Jun Dingyuan, who stood not far away, “There’s someone else you ought to thank as well.”
Jun Dingyuan was taken aback. “Who?”
Wen Zhuo replied, “Eunuch Liu Quan.”
Jun Dingyuan and Mo Shu exchanged a puzzled look, clearly unable to understand why Wen Zhuo thought they owed Eunuch Liu Quan their thanks.
Wen Zhuo explained, “Everyone played an important part in this plan, but if we’re speaking of who had the greatest influence over His Majesty and enjoyed the most of his trust, that would be Eunuch Liu Quan.”
“You said that when you confessed your guilt to His Majesty, Eunuch Liu was the one who brought up the Divine Wood Factory. That was his way of showing goodwill. Because of that reminder, we were able to turn the situation to our advantage and stage everything even more convincingly, making His Majesty believe that Mo Shu’s trip to the Divine Wood Factory was an accident prompted by a hint.”
Jun Dingyuan stared at him in shock. “You’re saying Eunuch Liu did it deliberately? But why would he help me?”
“To establish a connection with His Highness.” Wen Zhuo glanced at Shen Zheng from the corner of his eye. “The Emperor’s health is deteriorating, but Eunuch Liu appears to be in excellent shape. Once…” His circumstances would become extremely awkward. By showing goodwill in advance, he would have a place to go if His Highness ascended the throne in the future.”
Shen Zheng raised an eyebrow. “How does Eunuch Liu know I can ascend the throne?”
Wen Zhuo shook his head. “Perhaps His Majesty has hinted at something in private. Or perhaps Eunuch Liu has extended goodwill to every prince equally. After all, no matter who takes the throne, they’ll all remember his kindness.”
Wen Zhuo then reminded Shen Zheng, “In any case, we can’t let Eunuch Liu’s goodwill go to waste. When you return to the palace, tell Noble Consort to have someone send Eunuch Liu something from the northern frontier or the southern border. It needn’t be valuable—just rare. He’ll understand that we appreciate the gesture.”
Jun Guangping, who had remained silent until then, said, “Stop standing around. Sit down and talk.”
Wen Zhuo had just begun looking for a seat when he noticed Mo Shu’s gaze had dropped slightly, fixed on one spot. He looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to speak.
Puzzled, Wen Zhuo followed his gaze downward—and was horrified to discover that he and Shen Zheng were still holding hands.
What kind of behavior was this?!
Wen Zhuo swiftly pulled his hand from Shen Zheng’s palm, kept his expression unchanged, and quickly found a seat at a considerable distance away.
Fortunately, in Great Qian, implying that a man was attracted to other men was tantamount to insulting him. Thus, Mo Shu did not suspect anything. As for the other two battle-hardened generals, they simply had not noticed.
With his palm suddenly empty, Shen Zheng could not help sighing. It seemed hand-holding was limited to the secret passage.
After having some tea and chatting for a while at the marquis’s residence, Shen Zheng took Wen Zhuo back through the secret passage.
As they descended the steps, he instinctively reached out to take Wen Zhuo’s hand again. But Wen Zhuo pressed both palms against the stone wall and turned his back to the faint lamplight.
“There’s no need, Your Highness. I’m familiar with the way now.”
Shen Zheng could only lower his hand slowly.
After returning to the palace, Shen Zheng relayed Wen Zhuo’s instructions to Jun Mulan. He then sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, propping up his chin as he gazed at the setting sun, looking utterly forlorn.
Jun Mulan was sharp and perceptive. She immediately sensed something was wrong, so she sat down beside him with equal decisiveness and asked, “Something on your mind?”
Shen Zheng thought that, other than Jun Mulan, he truly had no one to discuss this with. The eunuchs and palace maids in the princes’ residence were all just as inexperienced in romance as he was.
“Mother, let me ask you something. What if I like someone, but he has a great many red—uh… blue confidants?”
Jun Mulan’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Which young lady in the capital is so open-minded?”
Since ancient times, a woman’s virtue and reputation had been considered more important than her family background, education, or beauty. The shackles were neither metal nor iron, yet they could weigh upon her more heavily than black iron. If a woman’s many male friends were common knowledge, then no matter how talented or beautiful she was, she could not escape the public’s judgment. The great aristocratic families, in particular, would never accept her.
And yet, in this moment, such a woman was living freely and to her heart’s content. That was something Jun Mulan yearned for, though she had never been able to achieve it herself.
“I can’t tell you who it is.”
“My son is a prince, and even that cannot win her favor?” Jun Mulan asked in surprise.
“It doesn’t seem to. She treats me as a friend.” Shen Zheng looked as melancholy as the setting sun.
Unfortunately, Jun Mulan had plenty of experience with marriage but none with romance. She thought for a while, then sighed sadly. “Then you can only give up. Mother doesn’t want you to end up like your father, forcibly taking a woman as your consort.”
Shen Zheng thought to himself that his situation was far more complicated than his father’s.
After all, the one he liked was a little male cat!
But he was not the sort of person to give up easily. Not when it came to placing first in the provincial examination, not when it came to ranking in the top one percent, and certainly not when it came to a promising little male cat.
Shen Zheng sprang to his feet and declared with determination, “I’ll keep working hard. First, I’ll claim the throne within three years. Then I’ll spend five years liberating the people’s minds. After that, I’ll devote five years to pursuing him with all my strength and strive for a breakthrough of unprecedented proportions!”
Jun Mulan: “…”
Did that mean he would not marry until he was thirty-one?
Shen Zheng said it, and he meant it. He also acted accordingly.
Compared with all those male friends around Wen Zhuo, Shen Zheng was at an absolute disadvantage in terms of gender. But he possessed modern knowledge as his cheat code, and he believed he could certainly offer this traditional little cat an unparalleled sense of novelty.
Fortunately, the imperial court had been peaceful of late, so Shen Zheng made frequent trips to the Marquis Yongning’s residence. Officially, he was there to pay his respects to his maternal grandfather. In reality, his grandfather was merely a convenient excuse. Shen Zheng would follow the secret passage straight to the Wen residence.
At first, Liu Qiying still remembered to replace the wooden plank, scatter a layer of loose earth over it, and disguise it so that it looked no different from the surrounding ground.
Later, Shen Zheng visited so often that they simply left the plank propped open. They would put it back in place whenever outsiders came to the residence.
Relying on her considerable strength, Jiang Mannü crushed pears and squeezed out their juice. As she worked, she said, “His Highness really does love coming to our residence. Anyone who didn’t know better might think he has a thing for our lord. Hahaha.”
Jiang Mannü gave two foolish chuckles.
Liu Qiying glared at her. “Don’t say things like that outside. You’ll bring serious trouble upon us.”
Jiang Mannü hurriedly replied, “Of course I know that.”
Liu Qiying sighed. “It seems His Lordship has fallen out with Vice Minister Xie as well. Vice Minister Xie hasn’t come by in quite some time. In all of Great Qian, finding a man who both likes men and comes from a respectable family is truly difficult.”
It was clearly such a minor matter, yet it violated the laws of the realm. Everyone feared bringing trouble upon themselves, so even those who harbored such feelings did not dare reveal them.
Jiang Mannü said, “If only His Lordship could like women. Then he wouldn’t have to suffer in silence, watching the one he loves marry someone else.”
Liu Qiying furrowed her brow and hesitated. “Actually, His Lordship is because—”
“Come and look! I’ve finally finished building it!” Shen Zheng’s voice suddenly rang out from the rear courtyard, interrupting Liu Qiying and Jiang Mannü.
The two hurriedly set aside their work, brushed away the leaves scattered across the ground, and eagerly rushed toward the back courtyard.
Some days ago, Shen Zheng had said he wanted to build a water-powered wind apparatus to help Wen Zhuo keep cool. Once he started, he had worked on it for more than half a month. Now it was already early autumn and the summer heat was gradually fading, but at last, it was complete.
In the rear courtyard stood a massive waterwheel where the white camellias had once grown. Its wooden frame towered high, and the solid-wood axle gave off a faint creaking sound as it turned.
A wooden beam wrapped with wooden gears ran straight into Wen Zhuo’s bedchamber. Inside, bamboo fan blades spun without pause, sending the bed curtains billowing.
Shen Zheng was holding Wen Zhuo by the wrist and explaining his invention with great enthusiasm.
“Teacher, take a look. I dug a channel in front of your bedchamber and used a wooden frame and a solid-wood axle to build a small waterwheel. The waterwheel turns by drawing on the force of the flowing water, which drives the fan blades inside the room. This is called converting energy. It creates wind without any manual effort.”
When he finished, Shen Zheng tugged Wen Zhuo into the room and pointed at the copper cylinder beside the fan blades. “If it were only a water fan, it wouldn’t be anything special. So I added this copper cylinder beside the blades. The mouth of the cylinder is narrower, so when the wind produced by the blades enters it, the airflow speeds up, making people feel much cooler.”
This simple air conditioner relied on the effects of adiabatic expansion and the Joule–Thomson effect. Apparently, back when the graduate dormitories at Shen Zheng’s university had no air-conditioning, his seniors had come up with something similar to produce cool air.
Shen Zheng lifted Wen Zhuo’s hand and moved it toward the mouth of the cylinder. “Teacher, feel it. Isn’t it much cooler?”
The room was small to begin with, and the waterwheel and cylinder occupied most of the space. Shen Zheng pulled Wen Zhuo so abruptly that the latter stumbled and nearly fell onto the bed.
He hurriedly reached back and grabbed Shen Zheng by the back of his robe, steadying himself. His fingertips brushed the cool air flowing from the cylinder; it was indeed several degrees fresher than elsewhere.
Shen Zheng had also forgotten how precarious their positions were. He turned around and asked expectantly, “What do you think?”
Wen Zhuo was already unsteady on his feet. When Shen Zheng bumped into him, he immediately toppled backward toward the bed.
Shen Zheng reacted swiftly and instinctively reached for something to steady himself. Unfortunately, the only thing within reach was his precious water-powered wind apparatus.
Unwilling to damage his masterpiece, Shen Zheng withdrew his hand. As a result, he lost his balance and was pulled down by Wen Zhuo.
“Mm!”
The soft mattress caught them both. Shen Zheng was not particularly heavy, but as he fell, his lips happened to brush against Wen Zhuo’s earlobe.
His lips were a little dry, the rough friction of them like a spark landing on dead grass. In an instant, the tip of Wen Zhuo’s ear caught fire.
It felt as though he were being roasted over a flame. His body trembled faintly from the heat.
Wen Zhuo abruptly turned his face away and squeezed his eyes shut.
So he failed to see Shen Zheng take a deep breath, his Adam’s apple rolling with difficulty.
That fair, delicate earlobe, cool and smooth as jade—he had kissed it completely by accident?
The clean fragrance of Wen Zhuo’s hair curled beneath Shen Zheng’s nose. His heart surged, and his mind filled with blasphemous fantasies. His six senses were anything but pure.
Yet when he saw Wen Zhuo give a pained grunt from being crushed beneath him, his body trembling slightly, guilt welled up in his heart.
He had accidentally squashed a cat. Would the cat be angry?
At that very moment, Liu Qiying and Jiang Mannü arrived.
“We’re here! What is it?”
Liu Qiying stepped into the room, took one look at the scene, and froze in shock. Then she immediately turned and bolted outside, colliding with Jiang Mannü. The two of them nearly went sprawling.
Shen Zheng came to his senses, hastily swept away the wicked thoughts in his mind, and climbed to his feet to help Wen Zhuo up.
“Did I hurt you, Teacher?”
Only after Shen Zheng had gotten up could Wen Zhuo finally draw a full breath. Pressing his lips together, he said, “This teacher is not hurt. It is only that Your Highness’s wind apparatus is rather too large.”
Embarrassed to sit on Wen Zhuo’s bed, Shen Zheng crouched down and said, “I could only make it this big for now.” There was no electricity, after all.
“Your Highness, an ordinary palm fan would have sufficed. This teacher does not fear the heat.” Though Wen Zhuo said this, he slowly edged closer to the mouth of the cylinder, letting the breeze ease the warmth in his body.
“That would be too tiring. Didn’t Ah Liu say you wake up overheated every night?” Shen Zheng did as well, but he had no way to undertake such a large project in the palace, so he could only sleep on the floor.
“It is already early autumn, Your Highness.” Wen Zhuo’s dark hair fluttered wildly in the wind, and only then did the redness in his ears gradually fade.
“I know. Use this for now, Teacher. I’ll think of something else. Maybe by next summer I can figure out how to make magnetic coils and build you something better, all right?” Shen Zheng coaxed.
“…Very well.”
What strange thing from Nanping was a magnetic coil?
The sky was growing dark, and Shen Zheng had to return to the palace.
Wrapped in a brocade quilt, Wen Zhuo sat before the mouth of the cylinder, holding a book and reading.
The cool breeze stirred the pages and chilled the side of his face slightly, but with the quilt over him, he was exceedingly comfortable.
Liu Qiying and Jiang Mannü circled the contraption, examining it with great curiosity.
“Why does Your Highness have so many interesting ideas?” Jiang Mannü asked.
“I still think it would be more convenient for me to fan His Lordship myself,” Jiang Mannü said.
“You can’t fan him all night, but this air outlet can blow continuously. Aside from being a little large, it’s quite useful, isn’t it, His Lordship?”
Wen Zhuo turned another page and replied calmly, “It is adequate.”
Liu Qiying gently twisted the cylinder. “I’ll turn it toward the quilt so His Lordship doesn’t catch cold. The weather will be cooling soon, after all, so His Lordship mustn’t use it for too long.”
After giving this reminder, Liu Qiying pulled Jiang Mannü outside.
Once the room fell silent, Wen Zhuo’s book of Confucian teachings slipped from his hands with a soft thump and landed on the quilt. He pushed himself upright, reached out, and covered the air outlet with his palm.
The wind gave a muffled howl as it was squeezed shut. He loosened his hand a little and let the breeze blow across his palm.
When he turned his head, he saw the small waist-level viewfinder still tucked beside his pillow.
Wen Zhuo gathered the quilt more tightly around himself and thought it over.
His Highness loved making him things that were not particularly practical, but were always interesting.
And that was fine, too.
