Chapter 89#

Before Shen Zheng left, he fished two gold ingots shaped like jujube cold cakes from Tabasha’s saddlebag and pressed them into Wen Zhuo’s palm. “Father gave me a reward. I had them melted down specially, planning to send you an ornament. After much thought, I figured you’d like these best in this shape.”

Wen Zhuo’s eyes lit up instantly. He pinched the gold ingots and brought them close to his teeth, eager to take a bite, but his gaze unconsciously drifted toward Shen Zheng.

Seeing Shen Zheng watching him with keen interest, he immediately set down the ingots, clasped his hands behind his back, and said primly, “Your Highness, that’s childish.”

Shen Zheng raised an eyebrow, then smiled and conceded, “Fine, I’m childish. I’m afraid I won’t be able to come out tomorrow or the day after. The day after that, I’ll come find you again.”

Wen Zhuo nodded, then had Jiang Mannü fill Tabasha’s saddlebag with a full load of carrots. He watched as Shen Zheng fed one to the horse himself before seeing him off as he galloped away.

Once Shen Zheng’s figure disappeared around the corner, Wen Zhuo dashed back into the inner chamber and carefully hid the gold ingots in the small gold vault under his bed.

Shen Zheng rode his horse at full speed, barely making it back to the palace at the turn of the Chen and Si hours. The ancestral temple rites had already begun. He stepped into the palace corridor in one stride and, without any pretense of modesty, squeezed his way in front of Shen Chen, completely blocking Shen Chen’s short, wiry frame.

Shen Chen couldn’t even see the temple doors anymore. His face twitched with anger, yet he managed to force half a smile onto his lips, speaking in a sinister tone, “Fifth Brother, where did you go just now? Even the ceremonial chant didn’t see your shadow.”

As soon as he spoke, Shen He and Shen Ting, standing ahead, both turned their heads back, their gazes full of inquiry.

After the Crown Prince and the Wise Prince had fallen, Shen Ting was the leading prince among the imperial sons. According to precedent, he should have delivered the congratulatory speech during the ceremonial entry into the hall. But Emperor Shunyuan never mentioned it and this year outright canceled that part.

Anyone with discerning eyes could see that Emperor Shunyuan had no intention of making Shen Ting his heir.

Realizing this, Shen Ting’s resentment was like a fishbone stuck in his throat. Earlier, he had been able to console himself, thinking the Crown Prince and the Wise Prince were both born of the empress and older than him, so it was only right for them to overshadow him. But now, with no excuses left, he fully understood that Emperor Shunyuan would never allow a cripple to inherit the throne.

His gaze toward Shen Zheng was mixed with a thousand emotions. On the one hand, he had to admit that Shen Zheng’s reputation had soared and his influence was unparalleled. The future position of crown prince would most likely fall to Shen Zheng. If he wanted to secure his own place in the future, he’d better ingratiate himself with this Fifth Brother early on.

But on the other hand, he was deeply unwilling.

Somehow, he always felt that all his scheming over half a lifetime had come to nothing. At the Spring Terrace Chess Tournament, he had gone to great lengths to let the Helian family shine, only for the Crown Prince and the Wise Prince to inexplicably frame Shen Zheng, dragging the Helian family into the scheme as well. In the end, Shen Zheng escaped danger, while half of the Eight Veins’ descendants were lost.

Later, he tried to stir conflict between the Wise Prince and the Crown Prince, finally managing to gather evidence of Cao Youwei’s embezzlement. But before he could act, the Cao faction was exposed, the Crown Prince collapsed, and all the time and effort he’d spent was wasted.

When Jun Dingyuan returned to the capital in triumph, worried that the Jun family might affect the court’s balance, he sent men to secretly investigate for leverage. But before he could find anything, the Mo Shu case was exposed, and Jun Dingyuan emerged unscathed.

After the Crown Prince fell, the Wise Prince became his greatest threat. He then plotted to topple the Wise Prince by starting with the Liu family. He finally managed to bribe one of the Crown Prince’s former allies and uncovered the machinations in Mianzhou. But then the locust plague struck, and Shen Zheng and Wen Zhuo were sent to Mianzhou on imperial orders, smoothly taking down the Wise Prince.

He thought he had exhausted every ounce of his cunning. Over a dozen retainers in his mansion plotted day and night for him. Yet every time he thought his scheme was flawless and destined to succeed, someone else beat him to it.

In some invisible way, it seemed as if a giant, unseen hand was brushing aside all his schemes. No matter how he struggled, it was all in vain.

Shen Ting steadied himself and spoke, “Fifth Brother, did you oversleep? These wretched servants should have called you but didn’t. If you ask me, we should cut out their tongues!”

Even though he had long known that Third Brother was cruel and venomous at heart, hearing someone speak of people as if they were livestock still made Shen Zheng physically uncomfortable.

He became even more certain that the history books had definitely been tampered with.

Wen Zhuo came from poverty. He naturally felt empathy and compassion for refugees, commoners, maidservants, and menial laborers. There was no way he would have served someone like Shen Ting.

In a bland tone, he said, “It has nothing to do with them. I left the palace for a while.”

This was hardly something he could hide. Too many eyes in the palace were watching him. Someone with ill intent would surely go tattle to Emperor Shunyuan.

Shen He, always carefree and oblivious, clicked his tongue in worry for Shen Zheng. “Oh dear, you’re too bold. Ever since Eldest Brother’s incident, I haven’t dared to set foot even across the threshold of Chunlai Alley. I’m about to go stir-crazy from boredom. And you still dare to provoke Father!”

Shen Chen forced two shallow dimples onto his face and said, with hidden meaning, “Rather risk Father’s displeasure just to leave the palace. Fifth Brother really is bold.”

Of course, he knew this day was Wen Zhuo’s birthday. In his past life, when Wen Zhuo had served him, he would go to great lengths every year on this day to prepare birthday gifts. If not for Xie Langyang’s presence, he would have scoured the realm for handsome young men and sent them all to Wen Zhuo’s bed.

Of course, that was just an act he endured with disgust.

He naturally assumed that Shen Zheng, like himself, was currying favor with a eunuch-born wretch just for the throne.

Shen Zheng gave him a contemptuous glance and said unceremoniously, “None of your business. Shut up.”

Shen Chen’s smile froze, and the corners of his mouth twitched three times. He clenched his knuckles until they turned white before barely suppressing his murderous rage.

In his past life, he had ascended to the throne, the supreme sovereign under heaven. Who in the world would dare speak to him like that!

Before long, Emperor Shunyuan completed the first round of sacrifices. The Directorate of Ceremonial, with shrill voices, announced that all princes and imperial clan members should enter the main hall of Fengxian Hall together. The princesses, consorts, and noble ladies of the clan stood in the eastern corridor outside.

Everyone performed the threefold bow. The ritual official read the eulogy in a loud voice. The princes and imperial clan members held sandalwood incense and offered it in turn.

After the sacrificial rites, the Precious Consort, deeply favored by the emperor, was specially permitted to stand by Emperor Shunyuan’s side. She took out an embroidered handkerchief and gently wiped the thin sweat from his brow, her posture graceful and her attentiveness meticulous.

A eunuch from the Directorate of Ceremonial hurried forward, bent low, and whispered a few words into Emperor Shunyuan’s ear.

After hearing it, Emperor Shunyuan’s brows immediately furrowed.

The Precious Consort quickly feigned surprise, raising her hand to cover her lips. “You say that His Highness the Fifth Prince did not attend the ceremonial chant and pay homage to His Majesty?”

Though Emperor Shunyuan had not personally attended the morning audience at the Mao hour today, he could afford to slack off, but the princes could not. They still had to perform the grand rite of bowing to the dragon throne.

This matter could be considered trivial or serious. The Precious Consort didn’t expect this incident to topple Shen Zheng. She only wanted to use it to gauge Emperor Shunyuan’s reaction.

Sure enough, Emperor Shunyuan immediately summoned Shen Zheng before him. His eyelids trembled slightly, and his heavy gaze settled on Shen Zheng’s face.

“Where were you during the morning audience at the Mao hour?”

Shen Zheng’s expression did not change. “Your son left the palace for a while.”

“I ask you, what did you go out for?” The emperor’s voice grew a bit heavier.

Shen Zheng had been prepared. He lowered his head immediately, his expression serious, and said loudly, “Your son heard that Father has had little appetite recently. Earlier, when chatting with Mother, I learned that in years past, you took her on an outing to Pingliang Street and tasted a bowl of spicy tofu soup, praising it as appetizing and flavorful. Your son thought that while performing the chant and paying homage fulfilled filial piety, ensuring Father’s meals were normal also fulfilled filial piety. So I took the liberty of leaving the palace to search for that tofu soup. But I searched all of Pingliang Street and not a single shop was open. I had to return empty-handed, unable to relieve Father’s worries. I am truly ashamed!”

Upon hearing this, Emperor Shunyuan’s expression did indeed soften.

This crude street food, spicy in flavor, was never prepared by the imperial chefs for the emperor.

When the emperor was young and traveled, he had loved this dish. But since ascending the throne, he had been bogged down with trivial matters and hadn’t tasted it in over a decade. If Shen Zheng hadn’t mentioned it, he would have forgotten.

He never would have imagined that Shen Zheng had gone out specifically to celebrate Wen Zhuo’s birthday.

He even thought that Shen Zheng, disregarding the imperial decree by rashly killing Wen Zhuo’s younger brother, might have caused a rift between Wen Zhuo and himself.

Of course, this was all his own speculation, as he had no desire to discuss the details of the imperial decree with Wen Zhuo.

After a long pause, Emperor Shunyuan finally scolded, “Though you are filial, you are far too unrestrained! The New Year’s Eve rites handed down by the ancestors—how dare you alter them at will? Truly worthy of your courtesy name, ‘Bu Lü’ (Unruly). After today’s family banquet, you will kneel in Fengxian Hall and reflect on your faults. You will not rise until the New Year’s vigil. Do you understand?”

Shen Zheng remained unfazed. “Your son understands!”

The Precious Consort took all this in, and her heart sank.

Although the emperor had punished Shen Zheng by having him kneel in the hall to reflect, it was merely a gesture. He had no intention of pursuing the matter seriously. Even the plate of pea flour cake he had rewarded earlier was not to be taken back.

Most importantly, the punishment of kneeling was not a public humiliation in the outer court. Instead, it was before the ancestral tablets, granting Shen Zheng the utmost dignity.

Only a future crown prince needed such dignity.

The Precious Consort’s mind was in turmoil, but Liu Quan cast a glance at the eunuch, his gaze carrying a hint of warning.

The family sacrificial rites in Fengxian Hall concluded. The emperor and the princes still had to go to the Imperial Ancestral Temple for the state sacrifices. According to custom, the women could no longer participate.

As the group walked out of the hall, a series of light footsteps came from the direction of the eastern corridor. A little girl with her hair in double buns, wearing a soft yellow robe, came dashing over like a firecracker, all careless and impetuous.

Her face beaming with a naive smile, she called out crisply, “Father! Mother Consort!”

Spotting Shen Zheng standing beside Emperor Shunyuan, she first looked him over curiously, then performed a proper bow, her voice soft and sweet: “Fifth Brother.”

The little girl was just over ten years old. Shen Zheng strained his memory and finally recalled the name of the Precious Consort’s daughter. His eyes curved into a smile. “Zhaoyue?”

“Mm-hmm!” Princess Zhaoyue nodded emphatically. The fact that she would bow so properly meant she had taken a liking to him.

When Shen Zheng had gone to Nanping as a hostage, she had been only two years old, with no memory of him at all. After Shen Zheng returned to the palace, she was often ill and confined to the Precious Consort’s palace to recuperate, so they rarely had the chance to meet.

Emperor Shunyuan reached out and patted Zhaoyue’s head, laughing. “So impetuous. As a princess, how can you run around like this? Do you want to be punished like your Fifth Brother?”

Emperor Shunyuan had five daughters in total. Three had long since married and left the palace. One had unfortunately passed away young. Only Zhaoyue remained, naturally the apple of his eye.

Unfortunately, according to the Qian history records, this princess’s fate was the most tragic of all.

Zhaoyue secretly lifted her head, sneaking a glance at Shen Zheng, and asked softly, “Has Fifth Brother been punished by Father?”

A little girl in her early teens was nothing more than an elementary school student in the modern world. Shen Zheng couldn’t resist teasing her. “Yes, I’ve been punished. How about you plead for me?”

“Alright!” Zhaoyue didn’t hesitate for a moment and nodded vigorously. “Father—”

The Precious Consort’s heart jolted with fright. She quickly scolded harshly, “How dare you! What kind of occasion is this for you to be making a scene here? Nurse! Take the princess away at once!”

Zhaoyue, scolded by her mother, immediately pouted in grievance and was led away obediently by the etiquette instructor.

The Precious Consort shot Shen Zheng a vicious glare when no one was looking.

Emperor Shunyuan, however, didn’t take it to heart. He actually found the scene rather heartwarming. He waved his hand. “There’s no need to be so strict with Zhaoyue. I rather like her personality—innocent and carefree. What’s wrong with that?”

The Precious Consort bit her lip and replied in a low voice, “Yes, Your Majesty. Your servant understands.”

The afternoon was so busy it kept everyone on their feet. By the time the evening banquet came, Emperor Shunyuan was already weary. He barely tasted a few bites before ordering his carriage back to Yangxin Hall, merely instructing everyone to enjoy themselves and gather for the New Year’s vigil at the Chou hour.

Outside the hall, lanterns blazed brilliantly. People gathered in groups of three or five, feasting or chatting, a scene of great liveliness. Shen Chen had no time for pleasure. In his residence, he was alone, deducing the pros and cons of various parties.

Bu Zhangyi had been imprisoned. Gu Weizhi was acting as Minister of Personnel. Tang Guangzhi had lost power. Xie Langyang had smoothly taken control of the Ministry of Personnel.

Now, within the Grand Secretariat, Gong Zhiyuan, Luo Mingpu, and Xie Langyang were all his men. Shang Zhiqin, having lost the Wise Prince, could no longer stir up trouble. Liu Chanming, with Gong Zhiyuan’s guidance, would sooner or later lean toward him. With the Grand Secretariat in his hands, he naturally had a fighting chance.

But Shen Zheng had Father’s favor, the support of the Yongning Marquisate, Wen Zhuo’s counsel, and had now sold a favor to the Duke of Liu. His influence in the military was considerable and formidable.

The situation was more urgent than in his past life. He had to cut off Shen Zheng’s arms and legs as quickly as possible.

And the only one who could eliminate Wen Zhuo now was Xie Langyang. But Xie Langyang still harbored unrealistic illusions and was hard to use. He would have to extinguish all his hopes first.

Shen Chen’s gaze slowly rose, fixing on the bright yellow palace roof. The thick night seeped into his eyes, brewing into a dark, inky pool.

He stepped out the door, adjusted his expression, and came to Gong Jinjin’s room. In one move, he pulled her into his arms, his face full of tender affection. “Jinjin, your husband has something he needs to ask of your younger sister.”

The snow had stopped. The moon was bright. Shen Zheng left the palace banquet alone. But instead of his formal attire, he stepped into the deep night and headed straight for Fengxian Hall.

Jun Mulan caught up to him and stopped him in the covered walkway. She asked bluntly, “Tell your mother the truth. Where did you really go today?”

Shen Zheng didn’t want to hide it from her, so he confessed openly, “It was my teacher’s birthday. I went to give him a gift.”

Jun Mulan’s brows relaxed slightly. She patted his shoulder, her tone carrying a hint of approval. “I understand that you respect your teacher and value the Way. But the morning audience is a grand state ceremony. Even if you had congratulated him two days later, Director Wen, understanding the greater good, would hardly find fault with you.”

Shen Zheng couldn’t help but think of Wen Zhuo’s red-rimmed eyes earlier that day, the way he had leaned in of his own accord, the way he had held his neck, panicked, leaving claw marks on the branches, the way he had grasped his palm and thanked him in a low voice.

The corner of Shen Zheng’s mouth involuntarily curled up. “He wouldn’t find fault with me. I just didn’t want to miss it. Not a single second.”

Perhaps the look on his face was too obvious. Jun Mulan, being an experienced woman, felt her heart skip a beat.

She remembered Shen Zheng saying he had someone he liked. Her gaze suddenly grew complicated as she tested the waters. “You seem to care more about Director Wen than even your mother has advised.”

“He had a rough childhood. His heart is more sensitive than others. It takes a little more care.” Shen Zheng lowered his head and lightly fiddled with the leather belt at his waist. His eyes were even brighter than the moonlight. “Enough talk. It’s cold out. Mother, go back first. I’m in good health. It’s fine.”

“You…” Jun Mulan looked at his retreating figure, wanting to say more but stopping.

Inside Fengxian Hall, the candlelight burned faintly. Shen Zheng lifted his robe and knelt on the ice-cold golden bricks, his back straight as a rod.

The night deepened. Outside the hall, the sound of water clocks echoed. At first, he could remain calm, only feeling the cold seeping slowly into his bones. Gradually, sharp pains began to spread densely, making him gasp for breath. Later, the Qi and blood in his lower limbs stagnated, growing completely numb. He could only move occasionally to barely relieve the discomfort.

There was no brazier in the hall, barely any warmth. Frost kept blowing in through the cracks in the door. But cold sweat broke out on Shen Zheng’s forehead, trickling down the side of his neck.

He let out a low laugh, mocking himself. “Good thing I’m young. Otherwise, I wouldn’t escape knee cartilage damage, bursitis, or muscle strain. This ancient world really is… harsh on people.”

He considered himself highly adaptable. Ever since he’d crossed over, he’d done his best to fit into his role, acting within the rules of Daqian and the framework of imperial power.

But occasionally, in the dead of night, he still couldn’t help but hate how the imperial system bound and exploited everyone. Under this system, today’s beneficiaries would sooner or later face its backlash. No one was spared.

The hall was empty. Only he was left, facing rows of heavy memorial tablets representing supreme authority—once illustrious, now reduced to dry bones.

A bizarre thought suddenly struck him. If these ancestral emperors knew that the solemn, majestic Forbidden City—the palace they considered forbidden ground—would one day be open to the public for forty yuan a ticket, and that all the rites and rules they had revered as sacred, binding people’s behavior, would be completely abolished—would they be so furious they’d jump out of their graves?

In the end, they were all just mortal flesh and blood.

The pain in his knees grew more pronounced. He coughed lightly and simply closed his eyes, letting his thoughts drift to Wen Zhuo.

New Year’s Eve. Its birthday. The little cat minister, what was he doing right now?

Probably sitting around a table with Jiang Mannü and Liu Qiying, eating steaming hot dumplings and drinking sweet soup.

He had seen Liu Qiying prepare so many things. For a man with Wen Zhuo’s appetite, it would be enough to last seven or eight days.

But it was also possible that Jiang Mannü would polish it all off in one go.

Too bad he really had no knowledge of sweets and couldn’t remember how to make a cake. A man who loved sweets as much as Wen Zhuo would surely have his eyes light up with joy if he got a birthday cake.

But Wen Zhuo had such a twisted personality. Even if he was happy inside, he would put on a serious face. Only his ears would betray his feelings.

To make Wen Zhuo completely let down his guard, open his heart, and honestly express his feelings would take a lot of effort.

Thinking of this, Shen Zheng couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The pain of kneeling gradually became more bearable.

He put all the ancestral emperors out of his mind, turned his head, and looked through the glazed tiles at the diffused moonlight.

He had memorized so many poems in the past, only to pass exams. Now, he finally understood what it meant to “wish we could live long, sharing the beauty of the moon even a thousand miles apart.”

At that moment, in Wen Manor, a figure wrapped in thick furs stood beneath a pear tree.

Wen Zhuo had finished his evening meal and wandered alone into the courtyard.

Firecrackers exploded in the streets and alleys, shattering the silence of the winter night. But he was no longer haunted by nightmares, no longer thrown back into the hellish abyss.

He looked up at the bright moon in the sky. A night breeze brushed past, making the wax flowers on the branches tremble slightly.

In his mind, he couldn’t help but recall the breath Shen Zheng had blown on his ear when teaching him to ride, the light laugh as Shen Zheng spread his arms wide for inspection when they bathed together, and the way their fingers had intertwined on the bed in the Liu residence, followed by a gentle kiss. Shen Zheng loved to tease him, and when he was about to crumble, he would comfort him, relentlessly awakening emotions Wen Zhuo had long buried, making him feel joy, making him sink deeper.

He wondered what was happening at the palace now. He missed Shen Zheng so much.

Wen Zhuo raised a hand to pinch a branch, then leaned down and took a gentle sniff.