Chapter 31#

The interior of the small vermilion-lacquered sedan fell into a momentary silence.#

Shen Zheng suddenly realized that for the people of Daqian, who turned pale at the mention of male relations, what Wen Zhuo had just said was correct, while his own views were heretical and unconventional.

Even his current unhappiness was inexplicable to Wen Zhuo.

Any attempt to overturn the commonality of an era was arrogant, presumptuous, and disrespectful.

It was just that he had always examined the actions of ancient people with the mindset of a modern person, which gave him a kind of frivolous, joke-like lack of solemnity.

But now that he truly began to appreciate Wen Zhuo, he had to respect his views.

Now that he truly began to feel pity for Wen Zhuo, he had to control his own presumption.

When he discovered he had a bit of a liking for Wen Zhuo, it also meant he had to keep his distance.

Wen Zhuo’s mind was entirely focused on helping him vie for the throne, sparing no effort, toiling with all his heart and mind. If at this time, Shen Zheng harbored improper intentions, thinking about changing people’s sexual orientation, or coercing submission with imperial power once he gained power, he would truly be a tyrant reviled for millennia.

Ah, humans truly are contradictory beings.

Having thought this through, Shen Zheng stood up, careful not to brush against Wen Zhuo’s robe, and withdrew from the sedan.

He lifted the curtain with two fingers, bent over, and left a message: “I’ll head back first. Teacher, rest well. Once I finish writing the letter, I’ll have someone send it to you for review.”

Wen Zhuo sensed he had something on his mind but couldn’t understand where it came from.

Shen Zheng had always been cheerful and easygoing with him, and although occasionally a bit impolite, he was his most worry-free student.

The only time Shen Zheng’s face darkened was when he misunderstood Wen Zhuo for taking the Nanping witchcraft drug. In the end, it was out of concern for him, and he even specially brought him date cakes.

So what was the reason now?

Was there something wrong with his words?

But Wen Zhuo had no experience in handling conflicts with students. In his previous life, Shen Chen always went along with him, flattered him, and was as cautious as if he were his puppet, only revealing his wolfish ambition at the last moment, casting aside the bow once the birds were gone.

In this life, although Shen Zheng didn’t completely indulge him, Wen Zhuo still wasn’t used to bowing his head and admitting defeat to someone who was both a prince and a student.

Besides, he had no idea what the problem was.

Wen Zhuo paused, and from his official robe, five pale, tender fingers emerged, seemingly casually reaching towards the sedan seat that had just been cramped.

He lifted his neck slightly, feigning nonchalance: “…I’ll change to a bigger sedan another day. It’s too cramped.”

So that in the future, you can ride with me to your heart’s content.

Do you understand?

Shen Zheng looked again at the narrow sedan seat, lifted the corner of his mouth, and said, “No need. Mother said she’s going to teach me to ride a horse. I probably won’t be crowding you in the future, Teacher.”

Wen Zhuo watched him jump down from the small sedan, gently pat the shaft, and then step back a few paces, standing there with great politeness, watching the sedan depart.

“…”

Suddenly feeling a tightness in his chest, Wen Zhuo found it hard to breathe.

Shen Zheng had actually become very observant of etiquette and no longer wanted to ride with him?!

The small sedan made its way back to the Wen residence. Wen Zhuo jumped out as usual, and a servant quickly asked, “Master, when shall we get a bigger sedan?”

Preferably one with a wider shaft, more comfortable to drive, and more splendid in appearance. Driving it would bring him more face, too.

Wen Zhuo stood still, his face set firmly. “Poor. Not changing.”

The servant: “…”

As soon as he entered, Jiang Manv cheerfully handed him a cup of warm tea: “Master, the meal is ready. Made according to the recipe His Highness gave. Said it can supplement iron and… vitamins, good for your health.”

Jiang Manv didn’t fully understand. Iron was for making weapons, so why did His Highness say people also needed to supplement it? And vitamins were even more unheard of.

But His Highness said that the master had been malnourished all along, which was why he had poor immunity and insufficient blood and qi. Following this diet would slowly help him recover.

Upon hearing this, Wen Zhuo’s heart only grew more stuffy.

After all, he’s someone who will be riding horses in the future, so why should he care about what he eats!

“Give me a bowl of golden-thread date soup.”

“None.”

“…Then how about snowflake cake.”

“None either.”

“Then give me some date cake.”

“Master, we really don’t have that.”

Wen Zhuo turned his head in bewilderment, “Why do you listen to him so much?”

Jiang Manv scratched her head, thinking, isn’t His Highness doing it for your own good?

Liu Qiying emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray, casting a sidelong glance at Wen Zhuo. “Did something unhappy happen today, Master?”

Wen Zhuo turned his head back. “I am not unhappy.”

Liu Qiying placed her hands on her hips and teased, “I don’t believe it.”

“I simply am not.” With an arrogant air, Wen Zhuo strode into the bedroom, and “bang” closed the door behind him.

Inside the Wenhua Hall of the Eastern Palace.

Crown Prince Shen Zhen was in a raging fury. He had been cursing all the way back to the palace, and the eunuchs hurried past with their ears covered, not daring to listen.

“Look at how he fawns over the eldest! So disgusting!” Shen Zhen paced frantically in Wenhua Hall, then strode up to Gong Zhiyuan in a single bound, speaking with both grievance and resentment. “Grand Secretary, I am the Crown Prince! He actually said the eldest resembles a crown prince!”

Gong Zhiyuan closed his eyes and advised earnestly, “Crown Prince, calm down. I believe today that the Fifth Prince deliberately showed goodwill towards the Wise King. Although I don’t know his specific purpose, provoking your anger was probably also a display for the Wise King.”

“Do you think I don’t know he did it on purpose? This Fifth Brother has been nothing but trouble since returning. One Spring Terrace Go Tournament has cost me dearly. Now all the vacancies in the ministries have been filled by newcomers. I, this Crown Prince, have no one to echo my words in court anymore!”

Gong Zhiyuan was much more composed than Shen Zhen. After a moment’s thought, he muttered to himself, “Now that His Majesty is recalling Jun Dingyuan back to court, he must be given a position. Influenced by the ‘Eight Vessels,’ after the Spring Terrace Go Tournament, Song Chishui, the Governor of the Three Great Camps, was demoted. His Majesty hasn’t filled his position yet. I suspect it’s being saved for Jun Dingyuan. The Wise King has a Commander-in-Chief, but he’s in Liangzhou, and His Majesty doesn’t think much of him. But the Vice Commissioner of the Chief Military Office on the Crown Prince’s side is fully capable of that position. Thus, we will be in direct competition with Jun Dingyuan. This must be the reason the Fifth Prince showed goodwill to the Wise King.”

Shen Zhen’s eyes widened instantly, as if waking from a dream: “You mean, Fifth Brother wants to team up with First Brother to deal with me?”

Gong Zhiyuan’s brows were dark and gloomy, his cheeks slightly sunken. “What I fear most is that the Fifth Prince also harbors unfaithful intentions.”

Hearing this, Shen Zhen burst into laughter, raised his hand and pointed outside Wenhua Hall: “Him? He dares to covet my position as Crown Prince?”

Gong Zhiyuan looked at the Crown Prince, not joining him in mockery, his tone growing graver.

“When it comes to military influence in our dynasty, there is a saying: ‘In the south, Liu Kang; in the north, Jun.’ Twelve years ago, Liu Kang lost the battle, and Duke Liu’s prestige in the military has waned. Now, Jun Dingyuan has burst onto the scene, his momentum already surpassing Duke of Liu. With the support of the Jun family, and having risen to fame through that miraculous game, the Fifth Prince might not be spoken of by the officials, but he is highly regarded in their hearts.”

“Last year, His Majesty was still in good health and naturally worried about princes overshadowing their imperial father. So he indulged you and the Wise King in checking each other, consuming each other’s strength. But this year, his health has deteriorated significantly. He must consider Daqian’s future. Even if he is unwilling, he must choose a worthy ruler to entrust the realm to.”

“Isn’t the worthy ruler me? Grand Secretary, Father chose me as Crown Prince precisely because he wanted to pass the throne to me!” Shen Zhen reacted strongly, but he knew very well that being Crown Prince was just something decided by Emperor Shunyuan with a single word.

Without military power in his hands, he was ultimately a lamb to the slaughter.

Gong Zhiyuan had been lecturing Shen Zhen even before he was Crown Prince. So, when Empress Cao died of illness and Emperor Shunyuan was consumed by guilt, Gong Zhiyuan had taken the opportunity to ally with Luo Mingpu and Liu Chenming of the Grand Secretariat to recommend Shen Zhen as Crown Prince.

As Minister of Rites, Liu Chenming cited the old system established since the founding ancestor to persuade Emperor Shunyuan, and he was finally swayed.

But Gong Zhiyuan knew that without Empress Cao’s death, Shen Zhen would never have sat on the position of Crown Prince.

“In previous dynasties, after establishing a new Crown Prince, the emperor would grant his adult sons princely titles, establish their residences, move them out of the palace, and strictly forbid them from participating in court politics. But the present emperor, aside from granting the eldest prince the title of Wise King, keeps the other adult princes in the palace. They have neither titles nor residences, living in the Heir’s Quarters.”

“Even the Wise King is allowed to participate in court politics. This is a warning to you, Crown Prince, to be cautious in your words and deeds, otherwise, anyone can replace you at any time.”

Shen Zhen panicked and grabbed Gong Zhiyuan’s sleeve: “Grand Secretary, what should I do then?”

Gong Zhiyuan said solemnly, “We absolutely cannot allow another Wise King to be nurtured. If only we could suppress Jun Dingyuan and secure the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Three Great Camps.”

But this matter had to be approached slowly. Gong Zhiyuan currently had no sure strategy.

It was evening by now, and Wen Zhuo was practicing calligraphy in his study. Jiang Manv rushed in and said the messenger had arrived.

Wen Zhuo had just finished writing the signature, completing the character ’ Night ’ (Evening) with a single stroke. His rhythm was suddenly interrupted, and the character ’ Mountain ’ (Mountain) remained unwritten.

Looking at the half-finished name, he didn’t look up, and asked, “Who?”

Jiang Manv: “Oh, someone from Consort Liang’s side.”

Wen Zhuo pursed his lips tightly, his grip on the brush shaking. A drop of ink fell, staining the paper.

“Hmph, that’s as it should be. Just delivering a letter, naturally there’s no need for him to come personally.”

Jiang Manv: “Huh?” None of this made sense to her!

Wen Zhuo threw his brush onto the desk with a “smack,” crumpled the flawed paper into a ball, and swept it to the floor with a flick of his sleeve.

From now on, no student was allowed to call him Wanshan!

“This brush is no good, it can’t hold the ink. Change it tomorrow.” Wen Zhuo flicked his sleeves, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked out.

Jiang Manv looked down and thought, “Hey, isn’t this a ten-tael silver Purple Tip brush?”

“…Pawn it tomorrow.”

Jiang Manv understood; someone had angered him again, and he was taking it out on the brush.

But he wasn’t so out of his mind that he didn’t care about ten taels of silver, which meant it wasn’t serious.

Jiang Manv hummed a tune as she picked up the crumpled paper, cleaned the brush, and set it properly, pretending she hadn’t heard that last sentence.

When Wen Zhuo arrived at the main hall, a trusted confidant from Consort Liang’s palace was already waiting inside.

Consort Liang had a fiery personality and was efficient in her actions. She had written the letter to Jun Dingyuan today and sent someone to bring it to Wen Zhuo for review.

That day, Wen Zhuo hadn’t told her the truth. What he had told her was: “In the past, Liu Kang was defeated, some Daqian soldiers were captured and became slave laborers in Nanping, ultimately dying in a foreign land. Their families were unable to retrieve their bodies for burial for ten years. General Jun is returning triumphant, laden with glory. If he leaves the remains of these comrades-in-arms abandoned in a foreign country, it will surely chill the hearts of the old soldiers at the southern border.”

“I deceived the Nanping envoy, claiming that the general’s camp had a secret treasure that was crucial for the battle’s outcome. I hope the general will cooperate, putting on enough of a show. When Nanping sees this, they will inevitably send spies to investigate and destroy the treasure, at which point we can capture the spies and exchange them for the remains of our old comrades, bringing them all back to the capital for burial, to reassure the people.”

Upon hearing this, Consort Liang was filled with profound respect for Wen Zhuo. She immediately cupped her hands in a military salute: “Director Wen, though you reside in the court and have never set foot on the battlefield, you can empathize with the desolation of those buried in a foreign land and have thought so far ahead for our Daqian veterans. I am truly ashamed to be inferior to you. I will certainly have my younger brother carry this out, and we must bring the remains of the old comrades back home!”

Wen Zhuo quickly stopped her, saying with a faint smile, “Your Ladyship need not be so formal. On the contrary, I must ask you to instruct General Jun: this is a great act of kindness. On his way back to the capital, he must ensure that the people along the way and the offices of the various prefectures know about it. We do good deeds, harbor good intentions, and must also reap the good results. We mustn’t be too modest and pretend to be lofty at this crucial time.”

Consort Liang nodded. “I understand. I want the people to know that my brother is not just a god of war, but also a benevolent general who cherishes his soldiers like his children and is deeply popular. When the time comes for him to support my son, popular sentiment will naturally be on his side.”

Now, as Wen Zhuo unfolded the letter to examine it, he saw that Consort Liang’s wording was perfectly appropriate. Two pages of deep understanding and earnest advice, written in a neat and beautiful hand, truly worthy of a noble lady.

Except for the last sentence in the letter, which was very much in her personal style—

“If there is any mistake, don’t blame your sister for showing no mercy with her fists!”

Wen Zhuo folded the letter and said to the disguised palace guard, “There’s no problem. Has Consort Liang prepared a token of identity?”

The guard nodded, his deportment proper: “Of course.”

Wen Zhuo nodded. “The letter can be sent. After this, Her Ladyship need not do anything. Pretend she doesn’t know. She mustn’t alert Consort Yi.”

“Your servant will relay this to Her Ladyship.”

With that, the guard stepped forward to take the letter. He held out both hands, but saw Wen Zhuo holding the letter, not placing it in his hands.

Guard: “?”

“Is there anything else, Director Wen?”

Wen Zhuo averted his eyes, looking at the patterns on the roof beam. “What could I possibly have? Just go and report to Her Ladyship and His Highness.”

The guard quickly reached out his hands again, but the letter still didn’t fall.

Guard: “…”

Liu Qiying walked past the doorway carrying a stack of clothes, poked her head in and asked, “Huh, why didn’t His Highness come?”

The guard hurriedly replied, “Oh, His Highness is being pressed by Her Ladyship to practice horseback riding. Her Ladyship says no member of the Jun family can be unskilled in archery.”

Thud.

The letter fell into his palm. Director Wen had already stomped off into the distance, huffing and puffing.

Shen Zheng still didn’t know that at this moment, the crafty kitten minister had revoked his right to ride together in the small vermilion sedan, as well as the right to call him ‘Wanshan’ from a subordinate presuming to address a superior. He didn’t even have a chance to defend himself in person.

He was experiencing the toughest day since traveling through time.

At the Imperial Riding Grounds, Consort Liang was watching him gallop over and over again.

Actually, the ‘dizzy from riding’ thing was a lie he told Wen Zhuo. He had taken equestrian classes in modern times for a while, so he had some foundation. But that modern recreational hobby was on a completely different level from the horseback archery Consort Liang was demanding.

If Shen Zheng weren’t still young and hadn’t been diligently exercising for the past two months, he would surely have been shaken to pieces by that white horse.

It was already dusk. A stretch of magnificent crimson waves unfurled across the sky. The fiery clouds seemed to scorch the pure white horse’s back.

The white horse, neck arched, let out a long neigh, its front hooves leaping high into the air, its mane stirring up light dust in the sunset glow.

Shen Zheng clamped his legs tightly against the stirrups, lifted his body, desperately pulled the reins with his left hand, and clung to the saddle with his right, finally conquering this fine steed known as “Treads on White Sand.”

After dismounting, Shen Zheng collapsed directly onto the sandy ground. The sunset glow clung to the edge of his boots. He spread his hands, panting heavily.

Both palms were deeply cut and bleeding from the reins, and his legs were rubbed raw, making every step difficult.

Ancient people, oh, ancient people. They really suffered from the disadvantages of lacking modern technology.

Why ride “Treads on White Sand”? Why not ride a Hummer.

Consort Liang, dressed in a tight-fitting riding outfit, stroked the horse’s back and said with satisfaction, “Not bad. My son is truly a man of the Mobei desert. To ride so well on your first attempt.”

Shen Zheng thought to himself, have I ever spent a day in Mobei?

But seeing the endless yearning in Consort Liang’s eyes for the wild Mobei desert, the grasslands, and the great wilderness, he knew that the finest silks and satins and the bustling prosperity of the capital could never cage a soul born between heaven and earth.

Shen Zheng couldn’t help but ask, “Mother, if you like horse riding and fighting so much, why did you marry Father in the first place?”

Consort Liang said calmly, “The Emperor summoned your grandfather back from Mobei and forcibly confiscated his military power. As compensation, he had to marry me and make me Consort Liang. From then on, the Jun family became imperial relatives by marriage, and he naturally enfeoffed your grandfather as a marquis.”

Shen Zheng propped himself up on one elbow and pressed further, “And what about you? Do you like Father?”

“Like?” Consort Liang let out a soft laugh, never expecting her son to ask such a question, but she answered anyway. “I entered the palace at nineteen. Your father was already thirty-three. He neither knew how to ride horses or shoot arrows, nor wield a sword or brandish a spear. What was there to like about him?”

Shen Zheng hadn’t expected his mother to be so bold, and quickly turned to look around them.

Consort Liang sat down on the sandy ground, crossing her legs, her back still straight. “Everyone around us is my trusted confidant. No need to worry.”

Shen Zheng sighed, “Even marriage has to be calculated and schemed, weighing benefits and losses. There’s not a shred of true feeling between husband and wife. Being an emperor like that is just too boring.”

Seeing her son’s thoughts were veering off track, Consort Liang quickly corrected him sternly, “The responsibilities of a ruler surpass everything. If he can govern the country well and bring peace to the people of the world, such trade-offs are unavoidable.”

“I disagree.” One of Shen Zheng’s legs was numb from being pressed. He tried to switch to the other leg but accidentally brushed against his injuries, causing him to suck in a sharp breath of cold air. Yet he still earnestly finished his sentence. “Why must marriage be the only currency for good governance? A person’s energy is limited. If I were emperor, I’d only marry one person and be true to only one person.”

Consort Liang looked at her son in surprise, then suddenly laughed. “This notion of yours is quite novel. I’ve never seen or heard anything like it since time immemorial.”

Shen Zheng smiled too. His palms were already turning a little purple.

He looked at the sunset glow gradually fading in the sky, at the ancient, unchanging round sun that rises in the morning and sets in the evening, and said softly, “Maybe in the future, it will be the norm to only marry one person.”

The sky had completely darkened. Shen Zheng drank his congee with a spoon. His palms and legs were coated with medicine, and the pain had subsided. But thinking about having to practice riding for several more days, he wished he could pass out right then.

Just before the palace gates were locked for the night, the guard finally returned to report.

He said the letter and token had been sent by special courier to the southern border, and a homing pigeon had been used from Kan Prefecture, which would be faster than the imperial messenger sent from the palace.

Consort Liang breathed a slight sigh of relief. “Well done. Go and rest.”

Shen Zheng gulped down the last mouthful of congee and asked casually, “What was Director Wen doing today?”

The guard answered truthfully, “Oh, Director Wen practiced calligraphy all day. He must have been tired. By dusk, his back was aching, and he was in low spirits. But he insisted on seeing the Nanping envoy out of the city the day after tomorrow. When your servant left, Miss Liu had already gone to fetch a physician for acupuncture.”

Clang. The spoon hit the bottom of the bowl.

Shen Zheng’s eyes shot wide open. “You said he’s having acupuncture again?”

Remembering Wen Zhuo’s fear of it, Shen Zheng immediately reached for his outer robe. But his palms throbbed, and the robe slipped from his hand.

Bracing himself, he grabbed the robe and threw it over his shoulders. “I’m going to see him!”

Consort Liang sighed helplessly. “It’s useless to panic. The palace gates are locked now. You can’t leave.”

The night was deep, and the city was quiet. Only a window in the Wen residence’s bedroom was lit, its candlelight flickering through the frame.

Wen Zhuo lay sideways on the brocade couch, covered with a thin cloud-patterned silk quilt. His plain white undergarment was loosely slipped down to his shoulders, revealing a lean and bony back.

The old physician, stroking his goatee, finished taking his pulse and said, “Director, you have a stagnation of heart fire and strain to your muscles and bones. I’ll apply a dozen or so needles to your shoulders, back, and arms to clear the meridians. The pain should ease in about an hour or two.”

Saying this, he took out extremely fine silver needles from a cloth roll, pinched the tail of a needle between his fingertips, lightly passed it over the candle flame, and with its lingering warmth, aimed it at Wen Zhuo’s pale hand.

The needle entered the skin with the utmost delicacy, but then with a sudden, strong twist, it was slowly screwed deeper into the flesh.

Wen Zhuo’s whole body stiffened instantly. His spine went ramrod straight, and he turned his head forcefully towards the wall. His jet-black hair lay scattered messily on the pillow.

His legs instinctively curled up towards his abdomen. Every nerve was as taut as a drawn bowstring, even his breathing became disordered.

His skin was naturally thin, the subcutaneous blood vessels as fine as hair. Where the silver needle entered, a tiny, crimson pearl of blood welled up beside the tip, like a drop of red ink falling from a brush.

“Master!” Liu Qiying, guarding the bedside, had anxiety in her eyes. She turned to the old physician and said urgently, “Can’t you use massage? On that… what’s it called, the shoulder well point? The temple point?”

“Massage is gentler, but it’s slower and not as precise as needles. These needles hit the acupoints directly, saving a lot of time.”

Wen Zhuo’s voice, very soft, floated through the thin quilt. “Don’t bother. You don’t know the acupoints anyway. Just follow his instructions. I’m used to it by now.”

Liu Qiying bit her lip and reached out to straighten the collar of his shoulder. “Then be gentle. Our master is afraid of pain.”

The old physician chuckled at that, already twisting a second needle. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just bear with it. This isn’t the Director’s first time, after all.”

No sooner had he spoken than the silver needle was swiftly inserted into the Hegu, Quchi, and Neiguan acupoints on Wen Zhuo’s arm.

Even though he averted his eyes, Wen Zhuo could clearly feel the silver needle turning and deepening under his skin. Initially, there was a faint heat from the candle flame, but it quickly turned into an insistent coldness. The cold spread along the meridians. He didn’t dare move a single inch, fearing that even the slightest movement would pull the needle tip and make it even more unbearable.

But this was only the beginning. There were still several needles to be placed in his shoulders and back.

The red candles by the bedside flickered, their light occasionally playing over the silver needles. A trembling shadow would be cast on the back wall, allowing him to precisely anticipate the moment each needle would pierce down.

Whether it was because the blockage was worse today, or the physician’s hand was unsteady, it seemed to hurt a little more than usual.

Wen Zhuo bit the corner of the silk quilt between his teeth. He didn’t make a sound. His eyelashes drooped very low, the tips of them catching the fine light.