Chapter 32#

At dawn, a light drizzle fell, but all the court officials arrived in full attendance.#

So did Wen Zhuo. Shen Zheng watched him from behind, as if he had truly fully recovered.

Hu Bu—Household Minister—Bu Zhangyi stepped forward to report, stating that two days ago, they had received a petition from the magistrate of Qianzhou, submitted through the regional inspector. This spring had brought heavy rains, and the crops in various areas had suffered waterlogging, threatening to turn into another great flood. He sought the court’s guidance.

Emperor Shunyuan frowned. “Wasn’t five million taels allocated to Qianzhou for dam repairs and disaster relief a few years ago? How can it be on the verge of flooding again? Have the local officials thoroughly investigated and reported the facts truthfully?”

Bu Zhangyi knelt, his voice heavy with distress. “Your Majesty, according to the touring censor from Qianzhou, the dikes appear to show signs of damage from ants and rats. They fear that this year’s water levels will be too high, causing a breach!”

“How could dikes built just a few years ago be damaged by gnawing!” Emperor Shunyuan slammed his hand on the imperial desk, the shock sending all the ministers to their knees.

Bu Zhangyi prostrated himself to petition. “The Governor of Qianzhou, Cao Fangzheng, is already dead. This matter involves many. I implore Your Majesty to approve the dispatch of an official from the Ministry of Revenue to Qianzhou for a thorough on-site inspection.”

The words took a turn, once again subtly pointing a finger at the Crown Prince.

The failure to bring down Cao Fangzheng’s entire faction in the previous case still rankled the Prince Xian faction. Now, with the timely spring rains—Qianzhou had seen a month of continuous downpour—and the poor quality of the dikes Cao Fangzheng had built, everyone knew the truth.

Emperor Shunyuan pondered, not yet answering.

The Crown Prince panicked, stealthily crawling forward a bit to nudge Gong Zhiyuan’s arm, seeking his advice.

Gong Zhiyuan’s thoughts raced, and in an instant, he devised a countermeasure. He shuffled forward on his knees.

“Your Majesty, what Minister Bu describes is a disaster that has not yet occurred. I believe this might be an exaggeration. In ancient times, officials often falsely reported disasters to reduce tax levies. Perhaps someone is trying to shirk duties and take advantage of the court. Moreover, if heavy rains continue for a hundred days, water levels rise, and mighty waves breach the dikes, can that be deemed the fault of the former governor?”

His reasoning had merit. Emperor Shunyuan nodded, instead rebuking Bu Zhangyi. “The flood hasn’t happened yet, so why the rush?”

Bu Zhangyi was simply seeking an opportunity for investigation. Once conducted, it would assuredly uproot the Cao faction.

“Prevention is better than cure, Your Majesty! I have heard that Qianzhou borders Bozhou, both lying along the Liang River. During the previous flood, Qianzhou was allocated five million taels to quell the disaster, while Bozhou fortified its dikes early, managing with only its own prefectural funds and thus avoiding calamity. Now, reports of ant and rat damage to Qianzhou’s dikes emerge again, yet Bozhou remains untouched. The contrast between the two is stark!”

Upon hearing this, Wen Zhuo merely lowered his gaze with a detached expression, as if turning a deaf ear to the disputes in the hall.

In his previous life, he had used Prince Xian’s influence to strike at the Crown Prince, eradicating the Cao clan and crippling the Crown Prince’s support.

In this life, with the Cao Fangzheng case, it seemed all processes had been advanced, as if some unseen force was correcting the chronic ills of this dynasty.

“Oh, is that so? Who was in charge of Bozhou at the time? He did an excellent job. Why has no one mentioned this to me?” Emperor Shunyuan grew interested.

Bu Zhangyi glanced at Wen Zhuo before replying. “As The Art of War says, ‘The victories of the skilled warrior are marked neither by wisdom nor by brave deeds.’ This means a truly capable commander does not earn a reputation for cleverness or glory, for he plans ahead and secures victory before the enemy gains an advantage. This man came from a humble background. Upon entering officialdom, he was sent to the remote Bozhou. With no acquaintances in court, who would have submitted a memorial for him?”

At Bu Zhangyi’s words, the ministers exchanged glances, curious about this capable official. However, many who knew the inside story had already turned their gazes toward Wen Zhuo.

Shen Zheng, too, quietly observed the figure wrapped in the crimson official robe. His frame was slender but resilient as bamboo, his hair bound in a black crown, revealing only a porcelain-white, serene neck.

It was like those two cold pages of Qian history. Even in this dynasty, many—including the emperor—did not know what he had accomplished in the past.

His official merits and dignity, his aspirations and talent—if not needed for factional struggles—would have been worn away by the Confucian classics in the Hanlin Academy and by the scandalous gossip surrounding him.

Bu Zhangyi continued, “Your Majesty, this man is Wen Zhuo, Director of the Hanlin Academy. Many refugees from Qianzhou fled to Bozhou back then, and it was Wen Zhuo who received and assisted them. I only learned of this by chance while speaking with a water conservancy official from Qianzhou.”

Emperor Shunyuan suddenly looked at Wen Zhuo, momentarily disoriented.

He remembered summoning Wen Zhuo back to the capital because the prefect of Huizhou had complained that Bozhou had stolen the Songluo tea business from Huizhou.

But upon investigation, it turned out Bozhou was planting new tea trees, selling their leaves cheaply, incomparable to the ancient trees in Huizhou. Wealthy families with discerning tastes still bought Huizhou tea.

However, he had unexpectedly learned that remote, impoverished Bozhou had become prosperous and stable because of this, removing a potential trouble spot for the court.

That was why he had specially commended Wen Zhuo, recalled him, and reprimanded the Huizhou prefect.

So, Wen Zhuo had also dealt with flood control back then.

Emperor Shunyuan seemed to have grown accustomed to Wen Zhuo: he loved to shirk work, frequented the music quarters, loathed forming factions, and avoided wielding power. The emperor was happy to have such a satisfactory solitary minister by his side—clever, understanding, and knowing his limits.

So much so that he had almost forgotten this man was the number one scholar of the sixteenth year of Shunyuan, a talent destined to govern the world.

With this thought, Emperor Shunyuan’s gaze toward Wen Zhuo involuntarily carried a hint of wariness.

Wen Zhuo smiled, speaking calmly, “Minister Bu exaggerates. During the flood back then, although Qianzhou and Bozhou were both on the banks of the Liang River, Qianzhou was the front line, and Bozhou was in the rear. I only prepared after seeing the flood in Qianzhou; it wasn’t prevention beforehand. Moreover, thanks to Your Majesty exempting Bozhou from taxes then, the prefectural treasury had funds to manage. So the credit actually belongs to Your Majesty. Why hasn’t anyone submitted a memorial for you?”

Emperor Shunyuan was amused by his words and coughed a couple of times. “Report my merits? To whom? Who can reward me? You can continually ask me for various rewards, but when I do well, it’s my duty. When I make mistakes, I’m reviled by the people.”

The Crown Prince, seeing that Wen Zhuo hadn’t sided with the Prince Xian faction, breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed this man was indeed a solitary minister, unwilling to be drawn into factional strife.

Gong Zhiyuan’s thoughts grew even more confused. According to Xie Langyang, Wen Zhuo had driven the Spring Terrace Chess Gathering case, which had heavily damaged the Crown Prince. But now, Wen Zhuo could have pressed the advantage but chose not to.

Could it be that Xie Langyang was simply acting out of jealousy?

How incompetent!

Bu Zhangyi persisted, “As Your Majesty said, this has not happened yet. It should be taken seriously, but not overly so. I have heard that Gu Weizhi of the Ministry of Revenue was transferred from Bozhou and once worked with Wen Zhuo to handle the disaster. Why not send him to Qianzhou for an investigation? He will surely act impartially.”

Gu Weizhi, a newcomer, belonged to neither the Crown Prince’s faction nor the Prince Xian’s faction. He knew the local situation, making him the ideal candidate.

Moreover, his family was still in Bozhou. On this trip, he could also pick up his wife and children—a win-win.

Bu Zhangyi wasn’t afraid that the investigator wasn’t one of their own. As long as someone investigated, problems would be found.

Gong Zhiyuan grew anxious but couldn’t think of a legitimate objection.

Emperor Shunyuan nodded. “Very well. Send Minister Gu to have a look.”

Gu Weizhi knelt out, his voice clear and resolute, “I accept Your Majesty’s command. I will not fail this mission!”

Wen Zhuo lowered his head and gently smoothed the edges of his sleeve, pressing out a tiny crease. The back of his hand, which had been treated with acupuncture the day before, was faintly bruised.

But at this moment, he completely forgot the pain of last night, drowned instead in satisfaction.

He understood that once Gu Weizhi went, the Crown Prince would soon be deposed.

Just then, the eunuch Liu Quan stepped forward softly and whispered to Emperor Shunyuan, “The envoy from Nanping wishes to pay his respects and bid farewell. He is waiting at the palace gate.”

Emperor Shunyuan waved dismissively, impatient. “A mere envoy—I won’t see him. You may go to a side hall later and offer some words of comfort on my behalf.”

Liu Quan bowed and withdrew. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

As soon as the court session ended, Wen Zhuo was surrounded by a swarm of flattering officials. He handled them with ease, answering questions and making small talk as he made his way out of the hall.

Neither Shen Zheng nor Gu Weizhi could get close.

When Wen Zhuo reached the vicinity of the Hanlin Academy, he saw Wu Kan and the three Mu brothers being led by court eunuchs toward a side hall. As they passed by, Wu Kan looked up, and their eyes briefly met.

Xue Chongnian asked, “Minister Wen, what’s wrong?”

Wen Zhuo immediately averted his gaze. “Nothing. I was just thinking that I’m the official in charge of the Spring Terrace Chess Gathering. The Nanping envoy is leaving tomorrow. I should see him off properly.”

Xue Chongnian thought for a moment and then praised, “Minister Wen is worried that the Nanping envoy might have been treated poorly and cause dissatisfaction in Nanping, so you intend to smooth things over. Truly thoughtful!”

Wen Zhuo thought to himself, When did this man become so articulate? I don’t remember this from my previous life.

Wu Kan wasn’t surprised at all that he hadn’t seen Emperor Shunyuan. But seeing Liu Quan, he was still amazed by Wen Zhuo’s accurate judgment.

Liu Quan was like a pool of still water. No matter how turbulent or treacherous the world around him became, he could always flow smoothly through the cracks of division and emerge from the chaos unscathed.

“His Majesty is consumed with state affairs and cannot receive you today. He sent me to see you off.” Despite being the Emperor’s trusted companion and the Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, Liu Quan treated everyone with respect, never putting on airs.

Wu Kan laughed heartily. “Director Liu honoring me with your presence is already a great face for me.”

Seemingly emboldened by the absence of the Emperor and high-ranking ministers, Wu Kan grew casual and unrestrained in his speech.

“Ah, I had originally planned to win first place in the Spring Terrace Chess Gathering. We’re not particularly interested in the title of national champion…” Wu Kan paced restlessly in the side hall, speaking boisterously. “It’s a pity I couldn’t get the Great Qian Emperor to be generous and show us the treasure in Jun Dingyuan’s tent.”

After saying this, Wu Kan waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it, forget it. Maybe we’ll come back to Great Qian next year!”

Liu Quan raised his eyes slightly, then slowly lowered them, offering no comment on his words.

Wu Kan suddenly pulled out a stack of banknotes, flashed them before Liu Quan’s eyes, and lowered his voice. “How about Director Liu be generous and tell me what treasure was hidden in Jun Dingyuan’s tent?”

Liu Quan remained unmoved by the stack of money and said flatly, “I wish the envoy a smooth journey tomorrow.”

Wu Kan paused, then his gloomy expression instantly brightened. “Fine, fine. Director Liu treats money like dirt. I admire that.”

He pocketed the banknotes and said firmly to the three Mu brothers, “Let’s go!”

Shen Zheng finally waited until Wen Zhuo had finished his duties at the Hanlin Academy. He abandoned Tabasha, changed into casual clothes, and rushed to Wen Zhuo’s residence, only to find Wen Zhuo already resting.

Whenever it rained, Wen Zhuo’s health suffered. Having been busy all day, he hadn’t even eaten lunch.

Only one window was open, and the sun was still hanging in the sky. Wen Zhuo was curled up in his bedding, the room filled with a faint herbal scent—the same smell Shen Zheng had noticed the first time he met him.

But back then, Shen Zheng had been more curious about Wen Zhuo. Now…

Shen Zheng crouched by Wen Zhuo’s bedside. Even in sleep, Wen Zhuo’s posture showed no sign of relaxation; his brows were slightly furrowed. On the back of his extended right hand, two bruises were visible.

Shen Zheng longed to take those bruises into his mouth, warm them, lick them away, soothe his pain.

But in the end, he carefully lifted Wen Zhuo’s hand, treating it with both reverence and pity, and gently tucked it back under the blanket.

He didn’t care if Wen Zhuo was labeled a treacherous minister. Even if the world spat on him, Shen Zheng wanted him to live a long, happy, and peaceful life.

“When the teacher wakes up, tell him I’ll go with him to the city gates tomorrow.” Shen Zheng stood and said to Liu Qiying.

Liu Qiying nodded, hesitatingly holding up the packet of date cakes. From the palace to Huiyang Gate, then to Wen’s mansion—Shen Zheng had gone through all that trouble to buy them, but Wen Zhuo hadn’t had a chance to eat them.

Shen Zheng waved his hand. “You two eat them. It’s not good for the teacher to have too many sweets. I just occasionally want to…” spoil him.

When he stepped out of the mansion, Shen Zheng opened his hands and winced—they were painful.

Afraid he might be too late, he had ridden a horse to buy the cakes. The strap marks that had healed the day before were torn open again, oozing blood.

The next morning, Wu Kan led the three Mu brothers out of the guesthouse. The overseeing officer looked them up and down, made a contemptuous sound, and processed their departure.

None of the guesthouse officials came to see them off. The longstanding hostility toward Nanping ran deep.

Thus, Wu Kan and the three Mu brothers sat alone in their carriage, leaving the capital through the Guang’an Gate, heading south.

Just outside the city gates, a small crimson sedan chair stood by the official road.

Wu Kan lifted the curtain and jumped off the carriage. With his hands behind his back, he swaggered toward the sedan chair.

“Director Wen, I have done as you instructed. I trust you will keep your promise.”

Wen Zhuo bent down and stepped out of the sedan. The day was clear but windy; the strands of hair at his nape were stirred by the breeze, trembling like plucked strings.

With no one around, Wen Zhuo had no need for pretense. He smoothed the rolled sleeve of his water-green robe and spoke seriously to Wu Kan. “In the past, our Great Qian suffered defeat and endured ten years of humiliation. Last year, we finally turned the tables and made Nanping taste some hardship. But struggles over pride have no end. It is the border people who suffer, repeatedly displaced from their homes.”

“This Spring Terrace Chess Gathering, Nanping failed to achieve its goals. Great Qian’s long-standing problems have been exposed to the public, so we haven’t truly won either. I hope that in the coming ten years, both sides can rest and recover, with no more war.” Wen Zhuo then looked at the three terrifyingly gaunt young men. “They are only nineteen years old and have achieved so much. They are clearly prodigies. Destroying their bodies like this is a shame. If you have a good heart, help treat them as well.”

Wu Kan hadn’t expected Wen Zhuo to speak so earnestly to him now—no mockery, no trading of schemes. Just a simple expression of a Grand Qian official’s hopes for the situation between the two countries and his pity for the three Mu brothers.

Suddenly, Wu Kan lost the desire to be sarcastic. He found Wen Zhuo strange—beautiful like a spirit, cunning like a ghost, yet occasionally radiating a divine compassion for all beings.

It was as if he had undergone countless trials to forge an indestructible heart.

Wu Kan was silent for a long time before giving his solemn promise. “Alright.”

A flicker of emotion seemed to stir in the wooden eyes of the three Mu brothers. They stiffly bent their knees and bowed deeply to Wen Zhuo.

The Nanping carriage gradually faded along the official road. Wen Zhuo stood by the roadside, watching the shadow shrink to a speck among the trees, before slowly withdrawing his gaze.

He raised his hand to grab the sedan’s carrying pole and get in, when he saw a white horse galloping toward him, kicking up dust. The pace wasn’t fast, but the horse’s mane was slightly bristled, and its breath was heavy—clearly it had been waiting a long time and was a bit agitated.

Shen Zheng tightened his wrist, reining in the horse. Tabasha stopped steadily in front of Wen Zhuo.

Dressed in black riding gear, with his arms and calves tightly bound, a silver chain wrapping his leather belt, and his robes fluttering, Shen Zheng looked even more tall and straight, his legs long and lean.

He teased, “What did Teacher say just now? I felt like Wu Kan’s eyes were practically worshiping you.”

Wen Zhuo’s gaze shifted from Tabasha to Shen Zheng. The horse was tall, and the rider was even taller. He had to tilt his head to look up, and the sun was harsh, its golden light making his lashes tremble. A faint bitterness stirred in his eyes.

So Shen Zheng had learned to ride a horse this quickly. Truly gifted.

He remained silent, turning toward his own crimson sedan. His palm pressed against the cool carrying pole, and he suddenly felt how painfully low the sedan was.

Xie Langyang, relying on his long residence in the capital, knew Wen Zhuo was new to the area and unfamiliar with the geography. He had deliberately chosen a residence far from the deputy minister’s mansion.

Walking would take an hour, and taking a sedan often got stuck in city traffic. Only riding a horse would allow convenient travel back and forth.

But Wen Zhuo’s health was poor, and he had always been afraid of such untamable animals, so he had never learned.

Of course, Xie Langyang didn’t want him to learn. He was worried that Wen Zhuo might appear unannounced at his mansion—he felt guilty, anxious, and pressured.

Thus, the timing of their meetings was entirely at Xie Langyang’s discretion.

When Xie wanted to meet, he would ride over. When he didn’t, it was hard for Wen Zhuo to go looking for him.

Wen Zhuo knew this well. Though angry, he was helpless against Xie Langyang’s excuses.

Since ancient times, people had always been bound by paternal authority and entangled by teacher-student obligations. Having no such ties made him an outlier.

So he couldn’t rightfully demand that others be devoted solely to him or violate ethical norms and national laws for his sake.

Now, seeing Shen Zheng on horseback, a wave of loneliness surged in his heart. It was as if he had been left behind again, watching those around him reach places he could not touch.

He knew it was absurd to project such feelings onto Shen Zheng. Shen Zheng was merely his student. Even if he later ascended the throne, he would only receive Wen Zhuo on imperial summons. Wen Zhuo could never summon Shen Zheng.

But at this moment, he couldn’t suppress that bitter ache.

“What are you doing here? I’m going back alone in my sedan.”

Shen Zheng keenly sensed his emotional shift. He thought back and realized Wen Zhuo had stared at Tabasha for a moment before his expression changed.

Now, though his words were tough, his movements to board the sedan were slow—rolling up his sleeves, lifting the hem, stretching a single action into a hundred steps.

That meant he didn’t want to ride the sedan.

Prickly little cat.

Shen Zheng jumped off the horse, walked around to face him, and earnestly offered an exit. “We rarely get out of the city. There’s nothing urgent back there. No need to hurry into the sedan.”

“I don’t want to.” Wen Zhuo kept a straight face, symbolically tapping the carrying pole with his hand, as if he still intended to climb in.

Shen Zheng suppressed a smile and simply sat down in the sedan carrier’s seat, blocking his path completely.

“I came to see you yesterday, but you were already asleep. Did the acupuncture hurt?”

“Not at all.” Wen Zhuo put on the air of an all-powerful master, treating acupuncture like a trifle. “Move aside. Go ride your horse.”

Could he be upset that I’ve learned to ride a horse instead?

Maybe he actually enjoyed being cramped together in the sedan?

Shen Zheng considered several possibilities and roughly understood: Wen Zhuo probably lacked a sense of security. He was afraid that now Shen Zheng could ride, they wouldn’t share the sedan anymore and would grow distant.

“How about I take you riding?” Shen Zheng extended his hand and gently gripped Wen Zhuo’s wrist as he lifted the sedan curtain.

Wen Zhuo stiffened all over, immediately looking up at Shen Zheng in surprise.

But his mouth was stubborn. “I don’t know how to ride.”

“I’ll teach you.” Shen Zheng was sincere. “I’ve practiced well. Tabasha is obedient. You just sit in front.”

“No.”

Wen Zhuo tried to pull his hand back and reach for the curtain again.

Shen Zheng didn’t hold him tightly. Instead, he let himself be pulled along, keeping his fingertips lightly resting on Wen Zhuo’s wrist.

“I’ll hold you from behind. Slowly. Even if I fall, I won’t let you fall. Okay?”

Wen Zhuo pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Seeing this, Shen Zheng seized the moment to offer the final step. He smiled, “Director Wen is extremely clever and talented. I wonder if he can learn to ride faster than his disciple.”

Wen Zhuo stopped tapping the pole and stepped down from the small seat. With a flourish of his sleeve, he said haughtily, “Naturally, I’ll be faster than you.”