Those few words alone had already exhausted all of Wen Zhuo’s strength.
He could only use the dense darkness, and the serious, righteous topics they had discussed earlier, to conceal the selfish thoughts behind them completely.
To an ordinary man, such feelings were no different from a desecration—or at least, that was what he believed.
Fortunately, there was no need for him to reveal his shame before another person. The darkness thoughtfully concealed the flush on his face and the heat burning at the tips of his ears.
He secretly calculated that if Shen Zheng detected the hidden meaning and found it strange or uncomfortable, he would follow up on what they had said before, claiming that he held the same hopes for Shen Zheng as Wei Zheng had held for Emperor Taizong—that Shen Zheng might bring peace and prosperity to the people.
Yet Shen Zheng discerned something unusual from that guilty, subtle breathing.
Could it be that Wen Zhuo no longer felt the same discrimination and disgust toward affection between men as he once had? Had spending all this time together caused Wen Zhuo’s thoughts to change in ways beyond his control?
Shen Zheng’s heart stirred, and he became even more certain that Wen Zhuo had feelings for him.
Otherwise, he would never have allowed Shen Zheng to wash his wounds, apply medicine, and share a bed with him.
Throughout it all, Shen Zheng had sensed only Wen Zhuo’s awkwardness and bashfulness. He had felt no rejection or disgust.
Shen Zheng’s heart pounded violently. In the stillness of the night, the sound of it—thump, thump—seemed to shake his eardrums.
He had never been a man to follow rules, restrain himself, and remain dutiful. He liked to attack. He liked crossing forbidden boundaries.
Earlier, out of respect, he had not dared to overstep by so much as a fraction. But if the person involved did not object, he would take the initiative and cross the line.
Shen Zheng’s hand reached across the precarious boundary between them. After searching over the fur cloak for a while, it finally touched a cool, jade-like little finger.
Without the slightest hesitation, he covered it with his palm. He clearly felt the hand beneath his stiffen abruptly, yet it did not pull away.
Time flowed silently. Neither of them spoke. Both deliberately softened their breathing, like two armies facing off, each hiding their strength—whoever revealed themselves first would lose everything.
All of Wen Zhuo’s attention was drawn firmly to that large hand. Shen Zheng’s palm was broad and scorching hot, covering the back of his hand, its roughness bearing traces of a life spent riding horses and practicing archery.
But even that roughness was wonderful. Wen Zhuo did not know how to find fault with Shen Zheng.
Silence was a wordless acquiescence. Though he could not see Wen Zhuo’s face, Shen Zheng kept his eyes open, gazing at him without blinking.
No one knew how much time had passed before his long, sharply jointed fingers slowly pried apart Wen Zhuo’s delicate, soft fingers. They slid all the way to their roots, then gently closed, fitting together with Wen Zhuo’s palm as perfectly as if they had been made for each other.
This had already gone beyond the realm of accidents, carelessness, dreams, and all such excuses.
It was deliberate. It was desire driving him forward. It was love too intense to restrain.
Shen Zheng had left himself no way to retreat. He could think of no reasonable explanation. There was only one answer: he liked Wen Zhuo very much.
Not the sort of liking shared between gentlemen, as plain as water.
It was the kind of longing that sank into one’s bones.
Wen Zhuo drew a tense, slight flinch. The movement was so faint that Shen Zheng’s large hand subdued it with ease.
After that, Wen Zhuo offered no further resistance.
Intelligent people needed only the slightest hint to understand almost everything.
Shen Zheng did not know what Wen Zhuo was thinking at that moment, but the order of Wen Zhuo’s mind had already collapsed. He was like a reckless man who had turned his home into a complete mess. Seeing everything overturned and scattered, he had no idea where to begin putting it back in order. All he could do was sit blankly on the floor, staring at the chaos in bewilderment.
Shen Zheng’s hand had warmed the back of Wen Zhuo’s hand until it was burning hot. He could even feel a trace of dampness gathering in Wen Zhuo’s soft palm.
He was no longer sleepy at all.
They were so close. How could merely holding hands be enough?
The wrappings beneath their ears gave a faint rustle, like spring silkworms gnawing at mulberry leaves. The tips of their noses touched, and the final sliver of space between them was swallowed by their warm breaths.
Shen Zheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His lower lip lightly pressed against the soft, supple lips he had yearned for so long.
Just touching them was not enough. He crossed over their disordered breathing, pressed himself firmly against Wen Zhuo, and rubbed slowly and delicately.
Still, neither of them spoke. Only their mingled breaths and the rising waves of heat spread quietly through the darkness.
Wen Zhuo felt as though he were hiding inside a secret box called darkness, told that he was safe there, that no one would discover him. He deceived himself into remaining stiff and motionless, like a small animal in hibernation, hoping the night would pass without a sound.
But in this very night, someone kissed his lips until they were utterly claimed.
At first, it was merely a series of tentative touches, wrapped in heavy breathing. Later, their lips clung together, rubbing from the center of his lips to the corners.
It seemed to last a long time, yet also no time at all. Time itself had lost its meaning.
Suddenly, footsteps returned from outside the alley. The constables were searching the area. The glow of their torches shone against the window paper, rendering the room dimly visible—
The two of them separated in perfect understanding, each resting his head on one side of the bundle. Their breathing once again became restrained and proper.
They were still gentlemen.
Except for the sweat clinging to the backs of their clothes, their shoulders faintly numb from being pressed beneath them, and their hands—still clasped tightly in secret—which spoke of the turmoil that had just passed between them.
—
The next morning was clear and refreshing. Jiang Mannü knocked on the door and said that the boy called Six Monkeys had brought news from outside.
Wen Zhuo had already risen. He was washing his face with cool water from a bronze basin. Droplets slid down his jaw, and when one reached the crest of his lips, he unconsciously pressed them together, realizing that his lips felt slightly swollen.
With his lashes lowered, he hid the complicated emotions in his eyes and answered the person outside, “I know.”
When he turned his head, he saw that Shen Zheng had risen as well. He was leisurely straightening the belt and collar rumpled by sleep.
The bundle that had served as a pillow had been crushed out of shape, while the fur cloak beneath them was wrinkled into a tangled mess.
Wen Zhuo hastily looked away, steadied his mind, and said solemnly, “That boy Six Monkeys seems to know quite a few secrets. We had no time yesterday, so today we should have a proper talk with him.”
Shen Zheng knew from the fact that Wen Zhuo had immediately begun speaking of serious matters that he was not yet prepared to face the impulse that had arisen in the darkness.
Having lost control and offended Wen Zhuo the previous night, Shen Zheng became a gentleman again at dawn.
He did not press the matter. Instead, he followed Wen Zhuo’s lead and said, “I’m curious, too. Yesterday, that beast committed violence in the middle of the street, yet no one dared to intervene. Why, then, is his father known as the Great Benefactor Wen?”
He was careful not to connect Wen Xu or Wen Yingjing to Wen Zhuo.
“Whether pounding hemp stalks into a thick gruel with bean curd, or boiling wheat bran into a thin porridge mixed with fine chaff, every morning he would clasp his hands and raise his fists in thanks to Heaven. That is how he has always been,” Wen Zhuo replied.
“Is that a line from one of Liu Shizhong’s songs?” Shen Zheng had finished fastening his belt. He rose from the bedside and walked toward Wen Zhuo.
The lyrics described victims of famine who, so long as they received tree bark, hemp stalks, wheat bran, or coarse chaff to fill their stomachs, would clasp their hands and raise their fists every morning, devoutly giving thanks for the blessing.
The common people were always humble and easily led astray, because they had no time to consider why they had fallen into such circumstances, or who had deprived them of the right to survive.
“Yes.” Wen Zhuo moved aside to make room at the bronze basin, avoiding Shen Zheng’s frank, deep gaze. He wondered why Shen Zheng had not tidied the bed as well. It looked as though they had done something chaotic there the previous night.
He unconsciously wanted to lick his lips, but then he caught sight of Shen Zheng watching him from the corner of his eye while washing his face. He forcibly restrained his tongue.
“I’ll open the door.” Wen Zhuo turned around and pushed open the fragile, dilapidated wooden door.
Sunlight lunged in recklessly, making him turn his head aside. He nearly shut the door again.
How could it be so bright?
Jiang Mannü stood outside the door, her round eyes—bright as copper bells—sweeping over Wen Zhuo’s damp hair and the faint red in his eyes. Concerned, she asked, “My lord, did you sleep poorly last night?”
“I did not!” Wen Zhuo immediately retorted.
Jiang Mannü parted her lips slightly. It was obvious he had slept poorly. He was frail and had never been good at sleeping in unfamiliar beds, but when had he become so stubborn?
Then she turned and saw Shen Zheng approaching, his face still unwashed and faint dark circles beneath his eyes. Once again, she sighed sympathetically. “Your Highness didn’t sleep well either?”
A smile curled at the corners of Shen Zheng’s lips. In an unhurried voice, he began, “Last night—”
Wen Zhuo immediately dashed out through the door. His robe hem fluttered behind him as he swept up a gust of wind, and in the blink of an eye he had gone far down the path.
Jiang Mannü scratched her head, utterly baffled.
Gazing at Wen Zhuo’s retreating figure, Shen Zheng calmly finished, “Last night, constables were going back and forth searching the area. We were too tense to sleep.”
“I see. You and my lord have been through a great deal.” Jiang Mannü had never had trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places, and she was broad-minded to boot, so she had slept exceptionally soundly the night before. She had never imagined that His Highness and my lord had been so deeply worried.
Although Shen Zheng had not gotten enough sleep, he was in a rather good mood. With his hands clasped behind his back, he stepped out of the room. “Come on. Don’t let your lord get too far ahead.”
Through the courtyard gate, they could hear Six Monkeys’ excited voice from inside: “Hey, everything outside’s gone crazy! The authorities have already issued wanted notices for you and are saying they’ll search every household today. This is what happens when you cross the Wen family—even the authorities have to do as they say!”
But when he turned around and saw Wen Zhuo without his disguise, the flatbread in his mouth dropped to the ground with a smack.
He forgot to pick it up. With his neck stiff and his eyes wide, he stared straight at Wen Zhuo, his face filled with disbelief.
He had gone back to his room with food in his arms as soon as night fell and had not seen any of them again. He had never imagined—never imagined—that this sickly fellow could look so… so…
He was tongue-tied, completely at a loss for words. In all his years, the best-looking person he had ever seen was Young Master Wen Xu. Even from afar, glimpsed through a crowd, Wen Xu had seemed peerlessly handsome, inspiring both envy and jealousy in him. He envied Wen Xu for being so good-looking and resented him for being born into wealth.
Even the learned scholars in the city said that Wen Xu’s appearance was unparalleled, the finest in all Mianzhou.
Yet compared with the person before him, Wen Xu was no more than an inconspicuous wildflower by the roadside.
Shen Zheng cleared his throat and stepped forward. He drew the folding fan from Wen Zhuo’s waist and gave Six Monkeys a light wave with it. “I only bought you a full meal yesterday, and today you don’t even want your flatbread?”
Only then did Six Monkeys come to his senses. He gave an awkward grin, quickly crouched down to pick up the flatbread, dusted off the loose dirt, and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing without the slightest concern.
Wen Zhuo had long since grown accustomed to this sort of reaction. His expression calm, he asked, “Six Monkeys, have you been hiding here all along?”
Six Monkeys held his neck high as he swallowed the dry bread. Then he folded his legs and sat on the ground, shaking out his ragged hemp clothes to let the heat and sweat escape. “That’s right. As the saying goes, the most dangerous place is the safest place. No one would ever come search here!”
Seeing his fearless, ignorant expression, Wen Zhuo smiled. “You’re quite clever.”
Six Monkeys curled his lips. “When I brought you here, it was because I saw that you were willing to help that old man. You didn’t seem like bad people. And what did you do? You suspected me! Now look at things—you’re even more wanted than I am. Once the authorities catch you, they’ll chop off your heads!”
At that, Liu Qiying folded her arms and laughed. “Don’t worry. They wouldn’t dare, even if you gave them ten times the courage.”
Shen Zheng closed his folding fan and lightly tapped it against his palm as he teased, “Yesterday, I saw everyone in the inn’s main hall lowering their heads and refusing to get involved. I thought there weren’t many people with a conscience in Mianzhou City. Who would have expected to run into a hero like you?”
The praise warmed Six Monkeys’ heart, and he immediately developed a better impression of Shen Zheng. Scratching his round head, he sighed. “I know him. His daughter was sold to the Wen family along with me. She was a year younger than I was, but I managed to run away, while Little Zhi didn’t. I don’t know what happened to her.”
That piece of dragon salvia incense still weighed heavily on his mind. Wen Zhuo’s expression turned solemn as he asked, “Why were you sold to the Wen family?”
Six Monkeys gave him a look as though he had asked an obvious question. “Why else? The locusts ate all the grain, and people were starving to death. What else could we do but sell ourselves? At least I could get ten steamed buns in exchange for myself and give them to my mother.”
He did not seem to harbor much resentment over being sold, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Wen Zhuo’s expression grew even more serious. “When did the locust plague begin?”
Six Monkeys scratched at his dusty, matted hair. “About half a year ago, I think. I don’t remember. It’s been too long.”
Sure enough, Shen Zheng had been right. The locust plague in Mianzhou was far worse than they had imagined. The disaster had lasted half a year, yet Lou Changsui had managed to conceal it without the slightest leak!
Wen Zhuo’s heart sank. He asked again, “Were there many children like you who were sold to the Wen family?”
“Many! Of course there were!” Six Monkeys nodded vigorously, though his voice sounded muffled from the dry bread stuck in his throat. “Back then, children were being sold everywhere, in the city and outside it.”
Liu Qiying glanced at Wen Zhuo, then took a waterskin from her pack and handed it to Six Monkeys. “After the Wen family bought you, did they mistreat you terribly, force you to do hard labor, and beat and curse you at the slightest provocation?”
Six Monkeys frowned. He took the waterskin and drank two mouthfuls before shaking his head. “Not at all. Young Master Wen Xu was indeed overbearing and unreasonable, but the Great Benefactor Wen was a truly good man. After buying us, he never made us do heavy work, much less beat or curse us. Instead, he fed us delicious food and took good care of us.”
Liu Qiying froze, then looked back at Wen Zhuo in disbelief.
Wen Zhuo narrowed his eyes and pressed him further. “If that’s the case, why did you run away?”
Six Monkeys flashed a sly smile. “Heh. I thought, if I could get ten steamed buns by being sold once, then if I ran away and let my mother sell me again, wouldn’t I get another ten buns? The Wen family bought so many children anyway—they’d never recognize me.”
Shen Zheng laughed inwardly. He really was as clever as a monkey, an expert at exploiting loopholes.
“Then how did you end up hiding here?”
Six Monkeys hugged the waterskin, his body curling in slightly as he slowly lowered his eyes. A hint of loneliness colored his voice. “I ran home, but I couldn’t find my mother. I searched everywhere she used to go, but I didn’t see a single trace of her. When I asked other people, they all said she had run off with another man and abandoned me.”
“I kept thinking about returning to the Wen family, but I was afraid they wouldn’t take me back. So I could only sneak into the city and wait for a chance to beg the Great Benefactor Wen to show mercy and let me return. At least I’d have enough to eat.”
“Little Zhi’s father was pretty good. He even knew to collect incense and sell it for money so he could look for her. If only she and I could switch places. I want to go back but can’t, while her father wants her to come out but can’t find her.”
These words were far beyond anything they had expected. Even Wen Zhuo could not help frowning.
It seemed that, in Six Monkeys’ eyes, Wen Yingjing was a living Bodhisattva who rescued the suffering and raised the children on behalf of the people. Though Wen Xu was overbearing, that did not conflict with Wen Yingjing being a good man.
Six Monkeys was not the sort to sink into despair. He quickly rallied and said, “How about coming with me? When the Mianzhou Incense Fair begins and we meet the Great Benefactor Wen, we can beg him earnestly. Perhaps, in his great mercy, he’ll spare your lives.”
“So the locust plague in Mianzhou is this severe, yet there isn’t a single refugee on the roads because of Great Benefactor Wen Yingjing’s relief efforts?” Shen Zheng found the idea absurd as soon as he heard it. “Then what about the authorities? Are the reserve granaries, prefectural granaries, and government granaries all just decorations?”
At this, Six Monkeys’ expression changed. Anger surged across his face, and he spat viciously to the side. “That brings us to the greatest villain in all of Mianzhou!”
Shen Zheng’s spirits lifted. “Oh?”
Six Monkeys rubbed his greasy palms together, then thrust out a finger and jabbed it emphatically at the ground. “Do you know whose residence this is? And why the authorities sealed its gates?”
The two dusty characters on the wooden plaque outside immediately surfaced in Shen Zheng’s mind.
Clearly, this had once been the home of an official surnamed Liu.
Six Monkeys stamped his feet hard twice and ground his teeth. “His name is Liu Kangren. He’s the local military commander. You might not know the name, but his father was one of the most powerful officials in the imperial court. He even used to be a general who led armies on the battlefield!”
Everyone present was stunned.
This Liu Residence actually belonged to Liu Kangren, the son of Duke Liu—the very man held responsible for the disastrous defeat in the southern frontier ten years ago.
