Chapter 19#

No. 19 chapter#

Wen Zhuo’s forehead brushed lightly against Shen Zhi’s knee. Through the silk, he could feel a hint of dry warmth, yet he suspected his own ears were even hotter.

Shen Zhi looked down at him, his palm involuntarily reaching out to stroke the dark hair—smooth, soft, like wind rustling a waterfall, cascading over him.

Wen Zhuo rested his head with caution, his earlobes a delicate, elegant pink, like translucent jade that seemed almost luminous.

He wondered if putting them in his mouth would smell pleasantly fragrant.

Shen Zhi’s Adam’s apple bobbed sharply. He didn’t know anything about celestial movements, but every drop of blood in his body was starting to stir.

While savoring the moment, he generously lavished Wen Zhuo with emotional validation: “Truly worthy of my teacher. ‘Vast are the clouds and rivers, boundless the streams and seas; lofty your virtue, towering as mountains and long as rivers.’ At Nanping, I never met a sage as great as you, who acknowledges faults and corrects them. Today I am truly moved beyond words.”

Wen Zhuo curled his fingers, clutching his sleeve tightly, wishing he could bury his face.

He liked men, and such contact with a man made his mind wander to improper places.

But Shen Zhi was so upright and honorable that he was still praising him with Fan Zhongyan’s poetry.

He feigned normalcy: “As long as you understand in your heart, there’s no need to say more.”

“How could that be? How else am I to express my profound admiration for my teacher?” Shen Zhi smiled, using his fingertip to touch Wen Zhuo’s flushed earlobe.

From outside the door came Gu Weizhi’s bright voice: “I’ve ordered the food and I’m back!”

Wen Zhuo was startled, springing up like a startled crane with a sharp swish.

By the time Gu Weizhi pushed open the door, Wen Zhuo was already sitting upright, his expression calm, as if nothing had happened.

Shen Zhi, however, leaned against the table, holding his stone in one hand while slowly playing with a strand of jet-black hair as fine as drizzling rain, twirling it between his fingers.

Gu Weizhi, naturally honest and forthright, remained utterly oblivious to the subtle tension that had filled the room moments before. He sat down without a care, his back straight, and casually picked up another piece of jujube cold cake.

Now Shen Zhi no longer bothered to put on that look of having his feelings betrayed; instead, he smiled so cheerfully that Gu Weizhi thought his eating manner must be comical, and he slowed down his chewing.

Not long after, the dishes were all served.

True to form, Gu Weizhi knew Wen Zhuo’s tastes well; among the dishes he ordered, many were mildly sweet. But Wen Zhuo did not indulge his appetites, only taking two or three bites of each dish, maintaining the decorum of a scholar.

Shen Zhi couldn’t help thinking: at twenty-four years old, in the modern world, that was barely the age of a graduate student, still naive as a child. But in ancient times, one had to be tempered into maturity.

This meal was extremely pleasant. Gu Weizhi chattered on about matters in Bozhou, and Wen Zhuo listened attentively, inevitably recalling bittersweet memories from their past hard times.

When Gu Weizhi paused for breath, Wen Zhuo spoke about the situation in the capital, preparing him mentally.

Finally, Wen Zhuo said, “After you return to the official residence, be more diligent and secretly keep an eye on the movements of the Nanping faction. See if they really don’t sleep, and find out what’s so strange about them.”

“Wei Zhi understands.”

A few days later, Gu Weizhi sent word, his tone carrying a hint of gravity.

As Wen Zhuo had instructed, he quietly made a round near the Nanping Go players’ quarters every hour. After several days of investigation, he discovered something strange.

Each night, the lamps in that room were extinguished for only one hour at most; the rest of the time, they were brightly lit. Moreover, ever since the three Nanping Go players had entered the residence, they had kept to themselves, staying cooped up in their room all day, never stepping out the door, nor socializing with outsiders.

The capital was so bustling, with brothels, tea houses, and taverns everywhere. This Spring Terrace Go Tournament was to last over twenty days, and these three were on their first diplomatic mission to Daqian. One would expect them to be curious about foreign customs, but they were unusually composed, which seemed suspicious.

As for their envoy, he was much more normal. Occasionally, he would leave the residence for a stroll or send a servant to buy some Daqian specialty snacks. However, each time he went out, it was extremely hurried, and he would return within half an hour, as if afraid that something might go wrong with the three Go players.

Gu Weizhi also mentioned that when the servants were emptying the chamber pots, they noticed that the urine of the three Go players was slightly red, with a strange odor, quite unsettling.

Being meticulous, he collected some samples and secretly sent them to a medical clinic in the city to be examined by a doctor.

After examining them, the doctor diagnosed: “This is a condition of ‘hematuria,’ definitely not caused by external injury. It is the result of medicinal toxicity damaging the kidneys and blood, burning the meridians and vessels. Besides blood in the urine, there will also be skin rashes, abdominal pain, hair loss, and other symptoms. The medication must be stopped immediately, and antidotes like Zhibai Dihuang Pills, cogongrass rhizome, and lotus node should be used to detoxify. Otherwise, I’m afraid he won’t live more than three years.”

Wen Zhuo understood. He instructed him: “You must not tell anyone about this. Give some silver to that servant and the doctor to keep their mouths shut. If word leaks out before the Spring Terrace Go Tournament ends, I will not be lenient!”

“Yes!”

For the next several days, Wen Zhuo went daily to the Observation Terrace to watch the games. Below, black and white stones clashed in life-and-death struggles, but he seemed detached from it all, indifferent to the turmoil.

Because so many infatuated admirers were painting him, he had recently changed five folding fans and three fur robes in succession.

When idle, he would gaze up at the sky, his eyes vacant, finding it tedious, even considering summoning two musicians to play a tune nearby.

Of course, this proposal was immediately rejected by the cabinet ministers. Even the normally opposing Crown Prince and Prince Xian factions united in rare solidarity.

“Chancellor Wen, there’s only one day left. Even if you want to indulge and find pleasure, please endure it!” Luo Mingpu said irritably.

Wen Zhuo was not angered. “Fine, for the sake of the Minister’s face, I’ll bear it a little longer.”

Bu Zhangyi beside him said with sarcasm: “Now the chess game below has reached a critical juncture. The three Nanping players have bizarre techniques and none have been eliminated. Of the elite carefully selected from the eight schools of our Daqian, several have already fallen. Chancellor Wen seems not at all worried for the nation!”

Wen Zhuo crooked a finger, and the attendant beside him, long accustomed to his ways, promptly bent down and handed him a warm, damp cloth.

He took it leisurely, wiped his fingertips, then picked a plump, large longan from the fruit plate. Peeling off the paper-thin skin, he placed the translucent, glistening flesh into his mouth. Only after a long while did he speak unhurriedly: “Governor Bu is joking. I am not like you gentlemen, brimming with energy, entangled in alliances and interests with the eight schools. What do I have to be anxious about?”

This remark tore off the cabinet’s veneer of respectability. Bu Zhangyi was left red-faced and speechless.

Wen Zhuo was never involved in factional politics; he was neither friend nor foe. There was no need for Bu Zhangyi to offend him utterly over a few words.

Suddenly, a rapid series of footsteps echoed from the Go arena. A soldier raised a wooden placard and shouted loudly: “Nanping Go player Mu Erhei wins by three and a half points!”

Before the words faded, the Observation Terrace erupted in uproar. Even before the ministers could digest this news, a second soldier arrived, his voice equally loud: “Nanping Go player Mu Sanbai wins by four points!”

Two consecutive victories; the atmosphere grew heavy.

Then a third announcement followed close behind: “Nanping Go player Mu Yihei wins by four and a half points!”

Another win!

Now the officials on the Observation Terrace could no longer stay seated. They rose one after another, their eyes anxious, trying to see which school had lost.

“It’s the Cheng School, the Xiao School, and the Yang School that lost!”

“But that was Yu Shaoqing of the Cheng School! A chess prodigy renowned throughout Yuzhou! How could he have lost to Nanping?”

“And Xiao Mingze of the Xiao School was equally a child of destiny! He was personally taught by the founder of the Xiao School!”

“The young master of the Yang School was trained by five national masters for half a year and mastered the essence of the entire lineage, and yet he fell here too!”

Gong Zhiyuan’s expression was grave. He turned to ask Xie, the Transmission Commissioner, behind him: “How many rounds is this?”

“Your Excellency the Chief Advisor… it’s already… the eighteenth round.”

Gong Zhiyuan’s heart sank sharply.

With the end of the eighteenth round, only six survivors remained in the Spring Terrace Go Tournament. Nanping had suffered no losses, while Daqian had only the Xie, Shi, and Helian schools’ talents left.

To be fair, these three were also among the top Go players, but when it came to real skill, they were not necessarily stronger than the other schools. Pitted against the Nanping players, the odds were against them.

Gong Zhiyuan’s face darkened as if it could drip ink. He lowered his voice: “How could this happen?”

The Transmission Commissioner was already pale with fear. With a hint of bewilderment, he said: “Chief Advisor, it seems Nanping has already thoroughly mastered the secret chess manuals of the Xiao, Song, Cheng, Yang, and Zhu schools. Observing these matches, Mu Yi used Song School techniques to counter the Xiao School, Mu Er used Xiao School techniques to counter the Yang School, and Mu San used Zhu School techniques to counter the Cheng School. They hit the vital spots in every game!”

A surge of rage rushed to Gong Zhiyuan’s head. He grabbed the Transmission Commissioner by the collar of his official robe, dragged him roughly to a corner of the Observation Terrace, and gritted his teeth: “Tell me honestly, how many schools’ chess manuals have you sold to Nanping?!”

The Transmission Commissioner’s legs went weak, his voice like a muffled rattle as he hurriedly defended: “I… I only stole the Shi School’s manual. You know, they are Prince Xian’s men…”

Gong Zhiyuan: “Then what about the other schools?!”

The Transmission Commissioner: “I swear by heaven and earth, it wasn’t me!”

Gong Zhiyuan knew the situation had gone wrong.

Every one of them, openly and secretly harboring ulterior motives, had coincidentally thought of the same scheme—to use Nanping to suppress their political rivals and reap the benefits.

They had stolen the Shi School’s manual and sold it to Nanping. Naturally, Prince Xian’s faction could have stolen the Xie School’s. And the Third Prince, even more underhanded, might have sold out all the other schools just to ensure the Helian School took the top spot.

Things had reached a point of no return.

Emperor Jun Dingyuan had just won a border battle, enhancing Daqian’s national prestige, and they were about to lose disastrously at the Spring Terrace Go Tournament, losing all face. The contrast was too stark. This matter could not end well; someone had to take responsibility.

But if a thorough investigation were launched, it would be a massive scandal for the court factions. The eight schools would be thrown into chaos, both the Crown Prince and Prince Xian would lose generals and soldiers, both sides would be damaged.

And the lives of those talented young men would likely not be saved either.

The Transmission Commissioner also realized the gravity of the consequences. Trembling, he said: “G-Gong… Chief Advisor, save the Xie School, save my son Xie Qian!”

Gong Zhiyuan shoved him away and turned his gaze to Bu Zhangyi in the distance.

Bu Zhangyi’s face was as dark as water. Though as usual, they were at odds, both could see the anxiety, fear, and trepidation in each other’s eyes.

The muscles beside Gong Zhiyuan’s jaw tightened. At that moment, he had no mind left to hate Bu Zhangyi. They had to find a way. Either turn the tide tomorrow and win the top three spots, or find a scapegoat to completely bury this scandal.

On the Observation Terrace, the officials looked panicked; their usual dignity had vanished.

Wen Zhuo acted as if he hadn’t noticed the exchanges of glances and undercurrents around him. He scooped up the five longans left in the fruit plate into his palm and took them away.

“How strange. On other days, you officials would all scurry away faster than rabbits. Why are you all willing to stay with me till the very end today?”

At the same time, in the Nourishing Heart Hall, Emperor Shunyuan coughed up blood again. The Crown Prince and Prince Xian were busy playing the filial son at his bedside, absent from Huiyang Gate. However, the other princes were scattered in various places, observing the situation.

They, too, could sense the impending storm.

Among the princes, only Shen Chen felt an almost manic exhilaration.

Because what was unfolding before him was exactly as he remembered!

In the timeline he had returned to, the secret chess manuals of the various schools had already been leaked for over half a year. Whether by urgently training the eight schools’ prodigies or by snatching the manuals back from the Nanping people, it was already too late.

He remembered the draw results for tomorrow very clearly. The three Nanping players would be matched against the three Daqian players, and Daqian would inevitably lose!

This fact was beyond anyone’s ability to change. Even if Wen Zhuo possessed unparalleled wisdom, he could not alter fate.

Tomorrow, Daqian would lose all face, and under the Emperor’s thunderous wrath, someone would have to take the blame. And Shen Zhi was the perfect scapegoat.

On Shen Chen’s usually pure and innocent face appeared a ruthlessness beyond his years.

Wen Zhuo, oh Wen Zhuo. Did you really think you could shake me?

The Imperial Astronomical Observatory said my stars align. I am destined to inherit the great treasure. I, Shen Chen, am the Mandate of Heaven!

Shen Chen turned his head, his smile sinister: “Minister Xie, tomorrow it all depends on you. Do not disappoint me.”

Xie Langyang’s body stiffened. After a long moment, he forced his hands together in a bow, his voice hoarse: “Your servant… understands.”

When Wen Zhuo arrived at the East Pavilion of Guanqi Street, he had just finished eating the last longan.

In the refined room, Shen Zhi had rolled up his sleeves and, for the sixth time, transcribed the three completed Go games, stone by stone, without missing a single move.

He flexed his slightly sore arm, and his joints gave a soft crack.

Wen Zhuo thought that the stone called a dumbbell seemed to be of some use. Shen Zhi was noticeably more robust than when they first met.

Wen Zhuo glanced at the smooth flow of muscles on Shen Zhi’s forearm and the veins standing out on the back of his hand, then silently averted his gaze.

“Tomorrow is the final battle. I have done all I could. Now it’s your battlefield.”

His eyes, full of charm and tenderness, concealed a cold glint. His five fingers tightened, the longan pits in his palm gleaming like chess pieces in his grasp.

Shen Chen, Xie Langyang, in this game of succession, no matter how you struggle or think yourselves exceptional—in my eyes, you are but mayflies contesting the heavens, trapped in my net from every angle.

I want you to watch with your own eyes as delusions turn to ash, as those closest to you are severed from your life, as you forever fall into the dust and mud, sinking into the abyss!

Shen Zhi rolled down his sleeve and came to his side. Behind him stood a quiet, unadorned Go board, with light slanting across its surface, laying bare every shadow.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let my teacher down.”