Chapter 39#

Wen Zhuo was clearly still unaware of the true meaning behind Shen Zhi’s phrase “settling accounts.”#

He remained silent, thinking to himself: If you knew who I was and what I had done, you would not be angry at me for injuring myself, but would instead hate that I hadn’t suffered more.

But with a personality like Shen Zhi’s, he probably wouldn’t kill him. Most likely, it would be like Emperor Taizong of Tang treating the founding minister Dang Renhong—remembering his contributions in support, and demoting him to return to his hometown.

At most… at most, he would allow him to stay in the capital, living as a commoner.

But this current life—sharing a horse, whispering close to the ear—would surely never come again.

After all, in this lifetime, his only goal was to take revenge on those two beasts, Shen Chen and Xie Langyang, and then to present the Great Qian people with an enlightened emperor. That was enough.

He had not thought to ask for anything more.

On the way back, the horse’s hooves were still rapid. Shen Zhi held him very tightly, and the cold night wind brushed past his cheek, sweeping away all sound around them.

Wen Zhuo only felt his eyes grow dry, even forgetting the panic brought by the horse’s jolting.

They raced all the way, finally entering the city just before the Hai hour. The bell tolled behind them, and the heavy city gate slowly rose, closing with a “bang” as it sealed tightly.

The area near the gate tower was quiet to begin with, and at this late hour, no one was about. Only distant, flickering lights glimmered like clusters of dandelions suspended in mid-air.

The small red-lacquered sedan chair was waiting at the alley entrance. The servant boy had been waiting for a long time. Shen Zhi helped Wen Zhuo dismount. Wen Zhuo, still unaccustomed to long rides, could barely stand, so Shen Zhi supported him while he eased the numbness in his legs.

Just then, from a small grey-tiled house beside them, a couple was arguing. The husband angrily got up and lit a lamp, cursing under his breath. The wife sobbed and wailed, scolding him for being a boor.

By that faint light, Shen Zhi suddenly noticed that Wen Zhuo’s eyes were red. He then looked at his palm, which, after being pressed and rubbed all the way, had oozed quite a bit more blood.

Wen Zhuo stood still, lips pressed together, leaning lightly against Shen Zhi’s shoulder, completely unaware that the light would expose his emotions.

“Your Highness, the palace gates should be locked by now. You should return to the Yongning Marquis’s mansion for tonight. Tomorrow it will be—”

“Does it really hurt that much?” Shen Zhi suddenly interrupted him.

Wen Zhuo was startled, then followed his gaze to his own hand.

Oh, it was bleeding again.

But no, it wasn’t because of the pain—it was because there was no hope.

“…It doesn’t.”

“Wanshan, you can actually trust me. I will never hold you back.” Shen Zhi let out a soft sigh, his tone extremely sincere.

Inside the tiled house, the couple continued to quarrel. The child, woken by the noise, joined in with loud wails. The quiet street instantly became as noisy as popping beans.

But in such chaotic surroundings, Wen Zhuo still clearly heard that form of address.

He called it again. Last time, the master said His Highness was not allowed to call it!

“It’s bleeding. It looks pitiful. Let me blow on it, and it won’t hurt anymore.” Shen Zhi suddenly bent down, lifted his hand, and gently blew on it through the cloth bandage.

Wen Zhuo’s eyes went wide, but not a single sound escaped his lips.

The “Thousand Golden Prescriptions” never said you could blow on wounds like this. His Highness has clearly never read that book. I have.

His fingers felt cool from the blowing, but the wound still burned. Your Highness, folk remedies mislead people.

The couple in the house was arguing fiercely. Your Highness and I eavesdropping here is extremely improper.

Your Highness… has a rather handsome profile.

Realizing his thoughts had drifted astray, Wen Zhuo abruptly turned his head away and quickly curled up his injured hand.

“Your Highness, the master is no longer in pain, just a little weak in the legs.”

The burning sensation seemed to have moved from his palm to his face. Fortunately, the night was deep, and people were few.

The servant boy, shrinking his neck and tucking his hands into his sleeves, stood on tiptoe, peering over. He didn’t know what great national affairs the adults and His Highness were discussing.

But standing by someone’s wall—wasn’t that a bit improper? Maybe they should get into the sedan chair?

Just then, the young couple inside seemed to notice someone outside. The woman jumped out of bed with a “bang,” threw open the window, and shouted in a shrill voice: “A pair of shameless bastards! How dare you eavesdrop by my wall! If you don’t get out of here, I’ll gouge out your eyes with a fire poker!”

Wen Zhuo hadn’t heard such crude language in a long time. It was one thing for the woman to scold him—he had heard worse—but insulting a prince was a capital crime!

Wen Zhuo’s heart tightened, and he immediately looked at Shen Zhi’s expression.

But unexpectedly, Shen Zhi showed no anger at all. He even supported Wen Zhuo by his shoulders and cheerfully retorted to the woman: “Who wants to listen to you! We, this pair of shameless bastards, are leaving now!”

“…” Wen Zhuo was completely speechless.

His Highness’s sarcastic skills are so poor, why does he have to curse himself again?

The woman inside grabbed a wooden basin and threw it, smashing it against the wall with a “clang,” then wept and cursed, “You coward! Letting people bully us at our own doorstep, and you won’t even go out and chase them away!”

The sound of the door bolt came from inside, as if someone was about to open the door. This time, Wen Zhuo forgot his weak legs. He quickly lifted his official robe, covered his face with his sleeve, and shuffled toward the small red sedan chair.

So embarrassing! So embarrassing!

Shen Zhi barely suppressed his laughter and followed him with concern: “Master’s legs have already healed? Why are you walking so fast? Don’t be afraid—if he dares to chase us out, I’ll cover your face, Master.”

Tapisha, who had just swallowed the carrot he had been holding in his mouth, saw his master run off and hurriedly kicked up his hooves to follow.

This time, Wen Zhuo didn’t waste a second on the stool. He quickly climbed onto the carriage shaft, lifted the curtain, and “slipped” into the sedan chair.

He composed himself, poked his head out, and said, “I’m returning to my mansion now. You should go back early too. No need to see me off.”

Then he quickly ordered the servant boy, “Hurry!”

The boy bowed to Shen Zhi, deftly picked up the stool, jumped onto the shaft, and urged the small sedan to roll away with a creak.

As expected, matters of state are better discussed in the mansion.

The man from the tiled house mustered his courage and chased out, but saw only Shen Zhi standing alone at the alley entrance.

“You, you… what is the meaning of you and your wife eavesdropping on our argument?”

Judging by his speech, this man was a scholar—much more refined indeed.

Shen Zhi savored that sentence for a moment, then couldn’t help but curl his lips. He took out a tael of silver from his bosom and handed it to the man.

“You and your lady argued quite well. This silver is compensation.”

A full tael of silver! The man was stunned and couldn’t find it in him to be angry anymore, so he simply watched Shen Zhi ride away on his horse.

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, the Guang’an Gate bell tolled and the gate opened. Not long after, a neat rustling of armor came from afar.

Jun Dingyuan, clad in gleaming silver armor, his waist hung with a long whip, spurred a spirited horse and led the elite troops of the army into the city, fully armed.

As news reached the capital’s citizens, they scrambled out of their beds, not bothering to wash, clutching their robes as they crowded along both sides of the road, vying to catch a glimpse of the victorious Jade-Faced General.

Jun Dingyuan’s camp enforced strict military discipline. The generals stood tall and straight as pines, their steps neat and uniform, not a single person casting sidelong glances or whispering.

Someone shouted excitedly, “Look! That’s General Jun! He certainly has an imposing presence!”

The crowd echoed: “The Jun family has been loyal for generations, guarding the frontier for our Great Qian. He rightfully deserves such a magnificent bearing!”

Another person squeezed to the front, eager to share the news he had gathered: “I heard that General Jun, during his time in the southern border, specially retrieved the remains of old generals from ten years ago and personally escorted them home, fulfilling the wishes of those soldiers’ families. Such a righteous act truly brings tears to one’s eyes!”

Hearing this, many citizens’ eyes glistened with tears, and they sighed, “With a good general like General Jun stationed here, it is truly a blessing for us people of Great Qian!”

…

Today was originally a regular court day. Now, all kinds of official sedan chairs were lined up on the streets outside the imperial city. The ministers stood in order under the first light of dawn, watching colored silk streamers float among the layers of red walls and green tiles.

Emperor Shunyuan was unwell, so Prince Xian was appointed to lead the officials in welcoming the troops outside the imperial city.

Jun Dingyuan reached the imperial city, dismounted, and presented the victory report. Prince Xian, tears in his eyes, choked as he read aloud the emperor’s consoling edict, and only then did he take Jun Dingyuan’s hands to help him rise.

This slight anomaly did not escape the eyes of the ministers. They exchanged glances, but remained silent, though everyone had their own scale in mind. In the court, there was still the Crown Prince, yet the emperor had ordered Prince Xian to welcome the troops in his stead. It seemed that Shen Zhen, who had been crown prince for seven years, was nearing his end.

Prince Xian’s faction was now full of self-satisfaction and arrogance, the wrinkles on their faces creasing into smiles. Meanwhile, the former Crown Prince’s faction all wore long faces, exuding a chill that seemed eager to freeze a few political opponents to death.

At the edge of the crowd, a few minor capital officials who weren’t qualified to attend court couldn’t help but make snide remarks: “They say our Great Qian has ‘Liu in the south and Jun in the north.’ Now the south has become Jun’s domain. Liu is getting more and more useless.”

A colleague beside him quickly nudged him with his elbow: “Lord Liu is right nearby—do you dare say that?”

The speaker was broad-minded and stout: “Pah! Even if he hears, what then? Can Lord Liu still put on armor and go into battle now? He has no successor.”

“True enough. If it weren’t for Liu Kang’s disastrous defeat, the Fifth Prince wouldn’t have had to be a hostage for ten years. Jun Dingyuan relied on that very momentum to carve out a territory in the south.”

“You could say he’s finally seen the light after hardship. In my opinion, the Jun family’s good days are still ahead.”

Jun Dingyuan accepted the edict with both hands and thanked the emperor for his grace.

Then came the ceremony of reporting to the ancestral temple, setting up altars for sacrifice, and proclaiming the peace of the borders to the ancestors.

The entire procedure took until well past noon.

But Jun Dingyuan still couldn’t rest. He had to go in person to the Liangqing Hall to thank Emperor Shunyuan face to face.

A victorious general was permitted to enter the palace in armor as a mark of favor, but Jun Dingyuan insisted on removing his armor outside the Forbidden City. He also did not take a sedan chair; instead, he humbly walked to the Liangqing Hall.

This move was reported by the Imperial Guards to the Directorate of Ceremonial. The chief eunuch, Liu Quan, received the news and, lowering his head, came to Emperor Shunyuan’s side, smiling: “General insisted on removing his armor outside the palace gate, saying that the ancestral rules cannot be broken. That is why he was delayed.”

Emperor Shunyuan was leaning back on his dragon throne, resting with his eyes closed. Hearing this, he slowly opened his eyes. A faint smile began to form on his stern, aged face: “The Jun family is indeed loyal through generations, giving their all for our Great Qian. Back then, when I wanted to reduce military power, it was the Marquis of Yongning who was the first to support me… speaking of that, I do feel a bit ashamed toward the Jun family.”

“Your Majesty must not say that. The Marquis of Yongning and General Jun are both reasonable people. They deeply understand Your Majesty’s good intentions,” Liu Quan consoled.

But Emperor Shunyuan’s eyes dimmed: “In the end, Mu Lan and I lost a child. These ten years, she must have harbored resentment toward me.”

“Consort Liang has always been sensible. She has never quarreled with Your Majesty even once all these years. Now that the Fifth Prince has regained his soul and is protected by divine spirits, the Consort can be said to have seen the light after hardship.” Liu Quan bowed his waist and kept his eyes down, maintaining a respectful distance from Emperor Shunyuan.

Emperor Shunyuan was silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a deep sigh: “I once gave Zheng’er the style name ‘Bulyu,’ meaning unruly and unfettered, not adhering to propriety. I truly blamed Consort Liang for giving birth to a useless son. Who would have thought that after ten fleeting years, it would be he…”

He trailed off, his gaze falling on the pile of memorials on his imperial desk.

The vermilion approvals remained untouched. The impeachments from the Ministry of Personnel, Revenue, Works, and various officials in Qianzhou were piled high, each line pointing directly at the Cao faction and the Eastern Palace.

Seeing this, Liu Quan immediately pretended to be deaf and dumb and did not continue the conversation.

He knew well in his heart that Emperor Shunyuan was still hesitating. Deposing the crown prince was a matter of state; one move would affect the whole situation.

Emperor Shunyuan was clear as a mirror. This wave of impeachment against the Eastern Palace and the Cao faction was entirely instigated behind the scenes by Prince Xian, Shen Bi.

The reason he had never considered making Shen Bi the crown prince was because Shen Bi’s ambition was too great. He had early on begun cultivating his own faction in the court to plan for the future. While his imperial father was still alive, he was already so impatient and did not know his limits—truly alarming.

At that time, Emperor Shunyuan was in good health and believed he could sit on the dragon throne for many more years, so he naturally could not tolerate a son who coveted the throne.

But Shen Bi was born to the late Empress Liu, and in the end, he couldn’t bear to banish him to a desolate place.

As Emperor Shunyuan was deep in thought, he saw from afar Jun Dingyuan, dressed in a white robe with a leather belt at his waist, striding toward the Liangqing Hall.

Seeing this, Emperor Shunyuan set aside his troubled thoughts and felt the air lighten.

“Huaishen!” Emperor Shunyuan propped himself up on the imperial desk and, unusually, stood up excitedly.

But Jun Dingyuan entered the hall without a trace of the joy of victory. His face was solemn, and he suddenly lifted the hem of his robe and knelt before the emperor: “Your servant, Jun Dingyuan, comes specially to confess his guilt!”

Emperor Shunyuan was taken aback.

Outside the hall, several hundred-year-old cypress trees swayed in the wind, rustling, disturbing the cicadas in the trees until they buzzed like boiling water.

Soon, the hall doors closed slowly behind Jun Dingyuan, ruthlessly cutting off the last thread of light. Little eunuchs hurried about, withdrawing from the hall one after another. The only servant left to attend was Liu Quan, the chief eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

The doors remained closed for a full hour. No one knew what was discussed inside. Only when the doors opened again was Jun Dingyuan’s robe drenched with sweat. His last words were: “Your Majesty, your servant is worried for you.”

Emperor Shunyuan made no reply. He didn’t agree, nor did he refute. After a long silence, he slowly waved his hand, signaling Jun Dingyuan to withdraw.

Jun Dingyuan maintained a humble posture, bowing as he walked out of the Liangqing Hall. Only after descending the steps did he raise his head to look at the dazzling sun in the clear sky.

After he left, Emperor Shunyuan sat alone on the dragon throne for a long time, not summoning anyone to attend him. It was not until the outline of dusk began to appear that he spoke softly: “…Nanping.”

Liu Quan’s eyelids twitched sharply, and he lowered his breathing to a minimum.

But Emperor Shunyuan refused to let him off. His gaze suddenly shifted and fixed on him as he asked, “Grand Companion, do you believe what Jun Dingyuan said?”

In his peripheral vision, Liu Quan glanced outside the hall. In his mind, he recalled the words Emperor Shunyuan had not finished: “…it would be he…” When he withdrew his gaze, he had already made a calculation in his heart.

He pretended to ponder: “Your servant remembers that on the day of his farewell, Wukan was extremely arrogant, completely unlike his defeated appearance at the special grace banquet. He even tried to bribe your servant to spy on the secret treasures. Thinking about it now, it does seem like he had obtained some extraordinary news.”

Emperor Shunyuan suddenly swept his hand and knocked all the memorials off the desk. He coughed heavily, coughing until the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, his gaze dark and sinister.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, calm down!” Liu Quan quickly stepped forward to support him. In the fluster, he happened to pick up a drawing that Jun Dingyuan had presented earlier and seemingly casually placed it back in front of Emperor Shunyuan.

Then he hurriedly rolled up his sleeve and anxiously patted Emperor Shunyuan’s back: “Your Majesty, the General’s thoughts are thorough. Exchanging spies for bones has instead become a fine deed. Heaven is blessing our Great Qian. Now that the sheep is lost, it is not too late to mend the pen.”

Emperor Shunyuan coughed violently. It was a long while before the cough subsided. Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, he saw a trace of blood among the spittle.

He steadied himself and saw the drawing splattered with saliva. His voice hoarse, he asked, “Do you think this thing can truly help me regain my old strength?”

“Your Majesty is blessed by Heaven. It is said that the reason Cao Fangzheng was able to embezzle three million taels was because he obtained strategies from the Mo family. However, his greed was insatiable, and he cut corners, which led to the river embankment failing after six years. From this, it can be seen that the Mo family indeed possesses extraordinary abilities.”

The problem had returned to the Cao faction.

Emperor Shunyuan closed his eyes and took a deep breath: “Cao Fangzheng, the Cao faction. It was because I believed what they said that I ordered the Mo family’s execution to the last man!”

“Isn’t that so? Your servant guesses that Mo Shu was willing to present the drawing to Your Majesty because he understood the principle of ‘blame the right person.’ The fault in that affair was not with Your Majesty, but with the Cao faction.” Liu Quan replied unhurriedly.

As dusk fell, Emperor Shunyuan suddenly felt unwell and postponed the victory banquet scheduled for tonight at the Fengtian Hall to tomorrow.

The officials waiting outside the hall exchanged bewildered glances. They were puzzled but none dared to speak a single extra word.

The crowd flowed outward in order, footsteps echoing along the long streets of the palace.

Xie Langyang hurried a few steps to catch up with Jun Dingyuan’s retreating figure.

He first swallowed the bitterness surging in his heart, then raised his sleeve and performed a standard scholar’s bow: “General, please wait. I am Xie Langyang. Might I trouble you for some time to discuss details? With this great victory in the southern border, the General’s merits are outstanding. Our Ministry of Personnel needs to verify the list of meritorious officials and confirm the vacancies in the court so that we can make reasonable assignments. I hope the General will be understanding.”

Xie Langyang was tall and upright, his face square and honest, with a pair of eyes that radiated the frankness of a gentleman. Moreover, his work had always been meticulously correct without oversight. So, three months after the Spring Terrace Chess Gathering case, Emperor Shunyuan, remembering that he had suffered innocently, reinstated him to his original post.

Jun Dingyuan turned around, the tassel at his waist swaying lightly.

His gaze was clear, as if he harbored no suspicion toward Xie Langyang. Hearing the request, he nodded: “That is only proper. Thank the Vice Minister for his concern for the southern frontier soldiers. Please follow me to the Yongning Marquis’s mansion for a detailed discussion.”

“Please.” Xie Langyang’s Adam’s apple bobbed as if he had swallowed a jagged boulder. With a numb and pained heart, he uttered a single word.

For the sake of the succession struggle, he was going to personally persecute a good general who had just returned from the blood-soaked southern border with great military achievements.

He was somewhat dazed. In his previous life, when Wen Zhuo was about to make a move on Lord Liu, he had stood up and slammed the table. What had he said then?

—Why not find a solution that satisfies both sides? Why must you resort to such a vicious method?

—You are completely different from before. I can hardly tolerate it!

Xie Langyang closed his eyes, suppressing the pain in his heart. His steps faltering, he caught up to Jun Dingyuan. The two of them, one after the other, headed straight for the marquis’s mansion.

Seeing that Jun Dingyuan had left the Liangqing Hall safely, with no armored soldiers following him and no imperial decree for his arrest, Wen Zhuo knew that this first step was stable.

Fortunately, the afternoon was uneventful. The piled-up documents on the desk of the Hanlin Academy were all dealt with one by one. At dusk, an oral decree arrived announcing that today’s victory banquet was postponed to tomorrow.

Wen Zhuo stretched with pleasure. The cut on his palm from last night had healed after a night’s sleep. The cut wasn’t deep in the first place; now only a faint red mark remained, painless and itch-free.

As if being blown on last night had actually worked.

Gong Weide saw his relaxed expression and asked, “The Director seems to be in an exceptionally good mood today?”

Wen Zhuo withdrew his hand, a lazy smile curling at the corner of his mouth: “No need for social drinking tonight, free from worldly affairs. Naturally, my mood is pleasant. I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t been to the music academy to listen to songs. I imagine there are many new works by now.”

Gong Weide smiled bitterly: “Only the Director can enjoy such leisure at a time like this.”

Wen Zhuo hugged his black official cap, brushed the dust off it, and smoothed the creases on his sleeve: “It’s getting late, I’ll be going now.”

Just as he stepped out of the Hanlin Academy, he ran headlong into a thin figure looking preoccupied, with calculation in his eyes. It was Shen Chen, returning from the imperial city to the princes’ residence.

Their eyes met. All pretense fell away. Wen Zhuo stood on the high steps, his official robe fluttering in the cool breeze as he coldly watched Shen Chen below.

Shen Chen’s eyes once again revealed a look of triumph, like a cat playing with a mouse, with rare mockery and delight.

There happened to be no one around. He stood with his hands behind his back, looking up at Wen Zhuo, just as he had in the previous life on the long street of the imperial palace, revealing a cold, ruthless smile.

His lips moved slightly, dimples forming on each side of his mouth, and he slowly formed two mouthfuls, word by word—

“Mo Shu.”