Chapter 6#
Chapter 6#
Wen Zhuo quickly and actively moved a little farther away from him, as if afraid of catching madness.
Pretending? Real?
Actually, the shock in Wen Zhuo’s heart was no less than last night.
Shen Zhi knew about the humiliation, yet his words and demeanor showed no trace of stupor or terror. Could he also be a reborn person?
But would a reborn fool become a pervert?
Why was Shen Zhi’s rebirth unrelated to the solar eclipse? Aside from himself, Xie Langyang, and Shen Zhi, were there others who returned to this moment? Would others have their brains reshaped like Shen Zhi?
There were too many unsolved mysteries surrounding this matter. Before grasping the pattern, Wen Zhuo decided not to let Shen Zhi know that he too had been reborn.
After a long silence, Wen Zhuo wrapped his fur robe tightly: “Your Highness, what do you mean by that? Why would I humiliate you?”
Shen Zhi suddenly fixed a probing gaze on him, as if to ask, ‘Don’t you know?’ But it lasted only a brief moment before he withdrew it.
“Alright then. Anyway, us doms aren’t really used to this perspective.”
With that, he didn’t insist further. Instead, he quickly supported himself with legs numb from kneeling and got up from the cushion on his own.
The moment he stood, Wen Zhuo truly felt how tall he was.
Shen Zhi used to always shrink his neck and hunch his back, unnecessarily reducing his height. Now standing upright in front of him, that part of his bloodline inherited from the Marquis of Yongning finally showed itself.
The Marquis of Yongning was originally from the old northern border faction, and his ancestors had intermarried with foreign lands. That trace of bloodline had not faded over generations and now gathered fully in Shen Zhi.
Thus, compared to the other princes, Shen Zhi had the most striking features: his temples slanted, his nose bridge was high, his eyebrows seemed dipped in ink—thick, dark, and sharp. His black hair was tied with a simple jade crown, yet the tips were still slightly curled, coarse and untamed.
Handsome he was, but thin he was too.
His jawline was like a drawn bow, taut and ready, with no room for excess flesh. His throat was so thin that the blue veins and bones beneath the skin were visible. Compared to the plump and graceful princes of the capital, his ten years as a hostage had been like a carving knife, leaving angular marks all over his body.
But… what did “dom” mean?
Tomb raiding?!
Shen Zhi’s casual remark left Wen Zhuo stunned. He hadn’t expected this man to harbor such an unspeakable secret. For a moment, he even forgot the oppressive feeling Shen Zhi’s standing brought.
So the Nanping people had humiliated the Great Qian prince like this. Those rumors about menial and dirty work were not baseless—they clearly wanted to damage the Shen imperial clan’s yin virtue. How vicious!
No wonder Shen Zhi wasn’t used to this perspective. It seemed that most of what he usually saw were lying corpses, not standing living people.
“Was the tomb raiding forced upon Your Highness by someone?” Wen Zhuo asked.
Shen Zhi couldn’t help but laugh. It was a fairly amiable laugh, but his eyes were still as straightforward as to be alarming.
“Not really. I like it myself.”
Even though Wen Zhuo was exceptionally intelligent, the current amount of information was too much. His brows furrowed into a knot.
Perhaps when people are in a painful environment for a long time, their psychology becomes twisted and perverted to a certain extent.
“Hobby?”
“You could say that.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“In Great Qian, seems like only you.”
“Your Highness should avoid doing things that are too damaging to yin virtue and moral luck.”
“Then that’s a shame…”
Shen Zhi laughed heartily, his shoulders shaking.
“What’s wrong?” Wen Zhuo was baffled by his laughter.
Shen Zhi suddenly approached without warning and rubbed his coarse fingertip against Wen Zhuo’s cheek: “I didn’t expect Director Wen to be this cute.”
Wen Zhuo’s hands were busy holding his fur robe, so he couldn’t spare them to push away, and let him touch him squarely.
The sensation of the fingertip lingered long on his cheek. In Wen Zhuo’s mind, it was like fireworks exploding, scattering the word “cute” all over the sky. For a moment, he even forgot to push him away.
At the tea house.
Shen Chen’s forehead burned again. While drinking tea to cool down, he kept his eyes fixed on the gate of Wen Manor, refusing to look away.
“Why isn’t he out yet?” It was already long past the time.
At this moment, Shen Chen was like a startled bird, worried both that someone had won Wen Zhuo’s favor, and that Wen Zhuo was deliberately trying to keep him in suspense.
This time, Xie Langyang did not offer words of comfort, because his own strength was nearly drained.
Seeing the familiar gate of Wen Manor, and thinking of the tragic scene of the house being razed and the family wiped out a month ago, his chest ached again.
He had been too self-restrained, rarely coming here. That night when the oil fire burned down this gate and blood stained the stone steps before it, he deeply regretted—why hadn’t he come more often? Why had he been so afraid of Gong Zhiyuan? Why had he always made Wen Zhuo wait?
When Wen Zhuo built his mansion, he had accompanied him to choose the courtyard. It was not close to the Vice Minister’s residence—a half-hour walk, faster on horseback, but unfortunately Wen Zhuo couldn’t ride.
Wen Zhuo had been a bit disappointed at the time. He had wanted to buy near Xie Langyang, but Xie Langyang did not want him to meet his wife and cause unnecessary jealousy.
Actually, Gong Yuwen was a considerate and understanding person. She knew from the start that Xie Langyang had married her out of obligation to his teacher. So on their wedding night, she had personally lifted the bridal veil, helped hide it from Gong Zhiyuan, and gently fulfilled Xie Langyang’s secret love.
Unfortunately, Wen Zhuo was sometimes unreasonable, even vicious. Even knowing that Gong Yuwen was innocent, he always had a vengeful demeanor, talking about killing Gong Zhiyuan’s entire family.
Xie Langyang often had headaches and had to avoid having the two meet.
Just then, a woman carrying a child walked past the gate. The child pointed at the two majestic bixie and said, “Mama, look at the big dogs, big dogs!”
The woman patted his head and corrected him: “Silly child, those are qilin. Big officials put stone qilin at their gates.”
Xie Langyang didn’t realize he had smiled.
He suddenly felt an impulse to shout from the tea house—those weren’t big dogs, nor qilin, but bixie. The bixie he had bought for Wen Zhuo.
He had indeed advised Wen Zhuo before: as the Director of the Hanlin Academy, having two qilin or lions would be more fitting for his status.
According to Great Qian law, officials above the second rank could have lions at their gates.
But Wen Zhuo didn’t like them, saying that bixie had a good meaning—only take in, never spend out, so he wouldn’t have to worry about retirement.
Xie Langyang had sighed helplessly: “You’re the son of a wealthy gentry, pampered since childhood. Why are you so obsessed with money like a poor household?”
Wen Zhuo hadn’t spoken then, seeming a bit uncomfortable, but Xie Langyang hadn’t pressed further and had personally commissioned these two bixie for him.
As he laughed, Xie Langyang felt sad again. Wen Zhuo had been diligently saving his retirement money, thinking he would live a long life, never knowing that his life would end at twenty-seven.
If he had known there were only a few years left, he would never have married Gong Yuwen, no matter how difficult it was, and would not have had a long estrangement with Wen Zhuo for nothing.
Xie Langyang’s heart ached. He was about to drink some tea to calm himself when he saw the gate open from inside.
Shen Chen: “He’s out!”
A broad-shouldered, imposing woman stepped out first. She stretched out an arm as thick as a bamboo tube, her voice husky: “Gentlemen, please. Though it was a wasted trip, please don’t be upset.”
The Chief Steward of the Eastern Palace, holding his head high, snorted coldly and simply flicked his sleeves and left.
Behind him, the Senior Secretary of the Prince of Xian’s estate had some sense. He stroked his goatee, nodded at Jiang Man Nü, then glared at the steward before heading in the opposite direction.
The steward of the Third Prince’s palace was leading a song girl with downcast eyes by hand, looking back every few steps as if he wanted to linger. But seeing Jiang Man Nü standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips and a stern face, he could only bow, sigh, and leave.
As Xie Langyang had predicted, Wen Zhuo hadn’t chosen anyone, and all the gifts were returned unopened. It seemed he didn’t want to interfere in the struggle among the eight factions.
Three pots of tea were finished. Xie Langyang stood up: “Your Highness, let me escort you back to the palace. Consort… Yi should be worried.”
He almost called her Empress Dowager as in the previous life. But Emperor Shunyuan was still alive now, so that wouldn’t be appropriate.
Shen Chen’s stomach growled, and he could hardly hold on any longer. He dropped a reward, and with Xie Langyang’s support, turned around. But just as they reached the stairway, he suddenly stopped.
“What about Shen Zhi?”
Xie Langyang was stunned. He had almost forgotten about the Fifth Prince.
Shen Chen suddenly turned his face, the muscles in his cheeks stiffening into an incredible shape.
“Shen Zhi hasn’t come out yet.”
“Your Highness…”
“Are you saying Wen Zhuo is deliberately opposing me? He wants to protect Shen Zhi!”
“Your Highness…”
“Shen Zhi is the most important piece in the Spring Terrace Chess Match. If he doesn’t die, how can the Marquis of Yongning, Jun Guangping, and his son Jun Dingyuan swear unwavering loyalty to me!”
“Your Highness, you are also the Marquis of Yongning’s maternal grandson.” Xie Langyang frowned, emphasizing.
Shen Chen was dizzy with fever and couldn’t control his emotions. He retorted immediately: “That’s different! Even if Shen Zhi is a born waste, with his blood-related grandson around, what room is there for an outsider like me!”
Creak—
The vermilion gate of Wen Manor opened again, and Shen Zhi strode out boldly. But his thin, handsome face bore a bright red slap mark, drawing frequent sidelong glances from passersby.
He showed no embarrassment, raised his head to look at the sun, then wiped the corner of his mouth with his hand. The slight sting crawled up his right cheek.
He clicked his tongue: “Your Director, he’s unreasonable.”
After a pause, he added with some helplessness: “He touched my chin first.”
Liu Qiyi looked at his colorful half-face, gloating, her voice tinged with mischief: “A rare opportunity, yet you’ve offended my Director. Don’t you regret it, Your Highness?”
What had just happened still seemed incredible to her. In all her years, he was the first person to dare flirt with Wen Zhuo.
Shen Zhi tucked his hands into his sleeves, looking very calm: “It’s fine. He wasn’t planning to help me anyway.”
Liu Qiyi thought to herself: How do you know that?
“My Director is too lazy and never wants to get involved in matters between princes.”
“Oh? That’s not necessarily true.”
“Your Highness doesn’t believe it?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I believe it or not. It’s as hard as iron fact.” Shen Zhi changed the subject and sighed, “But honestly, has your Director offended someone? The description in books doesn’t capture even thirty percent of his charm.”
“Books?”
“I mean the History of Qian.”
Liu Qiyi raised an eyebrow, already guessing most of it. Those unofficial pamphlets floating around the streets and alleys, full of nonsense, slandering court officials and palace consorts. The authorities had banned them many times, but they kept popping up.
“Your Highness should read less of those miscellaneous books. They only lead to misunderstandings about my Director. Although he is eccentric in style and sharp in speech, seeming hard to get along with—”
Liu Qiyi’s words carried obvious partiality. When she got to this point, her voice softened: “His heart is soft.”
Admiration rose from the depths of Shen Zhi’s dantian: “Wow, miss, that’s a thick filter. If your Director qualifies as ‘soft-hearted,’ then diamond might as well be Microsoft.”
“I mean the literal meaning, not Microsoft,” he added.
Jiang Man Nü sidled up to Liu Qiyi, her voice extremely low, scratching her head: “What’s History of Qian? What’s filter? What’s diamond? What’s mai kou sou sou sou? Is he praising the Director?”
Liu Qiyi didn’t understand half of what Shen Zhi said, but she could see the mockery on his face, so she put on a cold expression: “Your Highness, go slowly, don’t see yourself out.”
At that, Shen Zhi’s mockery dissipated. A look of difficulty crept into his brows: “Could I ask where I should go?”
Jiang Man Nü said bluntly: “Wherever you came from, go back to.”
Shen Zhi: “What if I said I came from Tsinghua?”
Liu Qiyi stared at him expressionlessly: “Since Your Highness knows it’s the Tsinghua Hostel, why ask?”
Shen Zhi raised an eyebrow: “Your Great Qian’s hostel is really called that?”
Across the street, Shen Chen was leaning anxiously on the windowsill.
His eyes were strained and sore, and suddenly he whispered: “Xie Qing! Did you see Fifth Brother’s face?”
Xie Langyang had seen it, but Shen Chen’s excitement pressed down on his heart like a heavy stone.
He always said that Fifth Prince’s death was hard to lay at Wen Zhuo’s door.
But just now, Shen Chen had shown his fangs, saying that if only Shen Zhi didn’t die…
In the past, he thought Wen Zhuo’s methods were too cruel, while Shen Chen at least had some brotherly feeling. Now he felt that Shen Chen was actually more eager than anyone, and those youthful panic and naivety seemed feigned.
Xie Langyang’s voice was heavy: “Yes, I saw it, Your Highness. Wen Zhuo didn’t intend to help him.”
Shen Chen’s tense nerves finally relaxed.
He leaned back, falling into a chair, his tone tinged with laughter: “That’s just like before. Wen Zhuo slapped Shen Zhi for me—”
Shen Chen’s expression suddenly changed. He murmured strangely: “No, that’s not right.”
Xie Langyang wanted to urge Shen Chen to rest early and stop being paranoid, but he heard Shen Chen muttering to himself: “Shen Zhi seems different from his previous life.”
At the mansion gate, Jiang Man Nü took off running, her steps as fast as if she had wind wheels under her feet, and in a flash she was back in the inner courtyard.
Standing before Wen Zhuo, her breath not even quickened, she reported loudly: “Director, the Fifth Prince wants us to escort him a ways. He just returned to the capital and can’t remember the way to Tsinghua Hostel.”
Wen Zhuo uttered seven words flatly: “Still a fool, after all.”
Jiang Man Nü lifted her eyelids, like a little thief stealing oil, quickly glanced at Wen Zhuo’s expression, and added softly: “He also seemed to praise you. Maybe we could send him off?”
Just now, Shen Zhi had rummaged through his pockets and finally scraped together a Nanping-made agarwood bracelet. Though not expensive, it was novel in design. He hadn’t hesitated to hand it over. As the saying goes, a gift with many people is never a bad thing.
“Now he’s learned to be clever with his tongue.” Wen Zhuo waved his hand, indicating he didn’t want to mention this person again. “Do as you please.”
When Jiang Man Nü ran off with orders, the flower hall was left with only Wen Zhuo.
He paced around the square pavilion twice, then suddenly kicked away the cushion Shen Zhi had knelt on.
Cute?
Absurd!
This word was rarely used to describe a man, and even more rarely to describe him.
Because he wasn’t cute. He was dark-hearted, despicable in methods, and his core was poisonous. That was why, when Shen Chen demanded it, he could carry out the shameful acts of a villain without burden.
Rather than Shen Chen dragging him into the mud, they were birds of a feather. After all, Xie Langyang wouldn’t help Shen Chen with those vile deeds.
That bastard Shen Zhi, his behavior was so frivolous. Out! He had to be out!
Wen Zhuo bared his teeth and flicked his reddened ear.