C157 — Kill that top scholar (24)

 

Shen Jue’s brow twitched. During this time, he had been constantly on guard against Shi Zhou, which was why he always carried a blade with him. But now, soaking in the hot spring, the blade was on top of his clothes on the shore. He wanted to turn and retrieve it, but Shi Zhou was holding him tightly, leaving him completely unable to move.

The palace attendants chased in after them, but upon seeing the scene in front of them, they immediately retreated behind the screen in embarrassment, doing their best to persuade: “My Lord, please come out.”

Shi Zhou acted like he hadn’t heard a word, continuing to cling tightly to Shen Jue. Over the past month, he hadn’t just refrained from holding Shen Jue—he hadn’t even seen his face, despite both of them being in the same place. This afternoon, when he heard Wen Yuyong had come to the Southern Palace, he couldn’t sit still any longer.

In his past life, he believed Shen Jue liked Wen Yuyong. Even though Wen Yuyong didn’t have memories from their past life like he did in this one, he still considered him a threat.

Several lanterns were placed around the hot spring pool at night. The candlelight wasn’t very bright, and the rising mist added a hazy veil. Shen Jue’s usually cold and indifferent face was now faintly warmed by the steam. His lips, pale like pear blossoms, were now tinged with red, turning from an April pear to a March peach—plump and full, as if waiting to be picked.

Shi Zhou only glanced once and couldn’t help swallowing. In his past life, he had a strange obsession: he loved kissing Shen Jue, especially turning those pale lips red and swollen. Shen Jue hated kissing—every time he was kissed, he would get furious. But he couldn’t beat Shi Zhou, so he would ultimately be forced to lift his head and submit.

The memory led Shi Zhou down a dangerous path again… No, he had to stop thinking like this.

He abruptly shook his head—only to receive a slap across the face right after.

Shen Jue had finally managed to free one of his hands. Seeing Shi Zhou staring fixatedly at his lips, he clenched his jaw and angrily slapped him.

The sound of the slap rang out sharply, loud enough for even the attendants behind the screen to hear clearly. Just as they were worrying, they heard the once-young general now turned “Lord Feng” say, in a tone dripping with flattery:

“Does your hand hurt? Want to switch hands and slap the other side of my face?”

The attendants: “…”

Even Shen Jue hadn’t expected Shi Zhou to be this shameless. For a moment, he was so angry he actually laughed. And that brief smile caused Shi Zhou to quiet down for a while.

Shi Zhou stared at Shen Jue for a long moment before saying, “You finally smiled. You haven’t smiled in so long.” He hugged him tighter, resting his head on Shen Jue’s shoulder and lowering his voice:

“I know I did a lot of wrong things. You hate me. But you also tried to kill me once. If you were me… what would you do?”

Shi Zhou knew that no normal person would act the way he did. But the heavens had given him a second life—wasn’t it to make things right? Shen Jue hadn’t killed his brother this time, and he hadn’t hurt Shen Jue either. Everything had returned to the beginning. This time, he was going to treat Shen Jue well.

But Shen Jue didn’t respond at all. He merely looked at Shi Zhou coldly. Seeing that, Shi Zhou’s arms tightened again—and then, suddenly, he began taking off his clothes.

“You hate how I treated you before, right? Then come take it out on me!” Shi Zhou spoke while undressing. Shen Jue, now free, turned to leave the water. But Shi Zhou grabbed at him again. In the chaos, the two of them fell into the water together.

Shi Zhou quickly helped Shen Jue up, wiping the water off his face with his large hand.

“Are you okay? Did you choke?”

Shen Jue was shaking all over from anger but had no way to deal with Shi Zhou. Shi Zhou was unlike anyone else—shameless to an astonishing degree, completely unconcerned with others’ opinions. You could say Shen Jue had locked himself away inside a shell, shutting out the world. And Shi Zhou was someone who pried that shell open with both hands, then had the nerve to stick his head inside and ask:

“Can you love me?”

As for punishing Shi Zhou, Shen Jue felt that if he actually did punish him, Shi Zhou would probably be even happier. Last time, when Shen Jue hit him on the head with a ceramic chess box, Shi Zhou had cheerfully asked him to hit a few more times. He was truly shameless beyond redemption.

Seeing Shen Jue trembling with anger because of him, Shi Zhou gave an awkward smile and said, “Don’t be mad, okay? You don’t like it here, do you? Then… how about we go to bed?”

Shen Jue closed his eyes, finally unable to hold back anymore. “Let go of me.”

Hearing Shen Jue speak to him, Shi Zhou’s eyes widened, and he blinked before reluctantly loosening his grip. Shen Jue then called the attendants in. Without sparing Shi Zhou a glance, he stepped onto the shore, wrapped himself loosely in a fox-fur robe, and went to bathe.

The entire hot spring had been ruined by Shi Zhou.

By the time Shen Jue returned to his bedchamber after bathing, Shi Zhou had somehow reappeared again. The palace attendants couldn’t stop him—he barged in and ran straight to Shen Jue’s bedside.

Shen Jue had already heard the noise outside. Reclining on the bed, he only lifted his eyes when he heard footsteps—but the first thing he saw wasn’t Shi Zhou’s face, but the plum blossoms in his hands.

Shi Zhou held a bunch of plum blossoms, gently placing them beside Shen Jue’s bed, and said with a deliberately gentle and affectionate tone, “Your Majesty, rest early.”

The plum blossoms were clearly freshly picked, still frosted with dew.

That night, Shi Zhou was sentenced to thirty strokes of the cane. His crimes: disrespect toward a superior and stealing imperial plum blossoms.

…

The next afternoon, Shen Jue once again went to the side hall to review memorials. Wen Yuyong was still in his official attire and greeted Shen Jue with proper decorum, not overstepping in the slightest. Shen Jue glanced at him a few times before sitting on the dragon throne. “Continue reading.”

“Yes,” Wen Yuyong replied and picked up where he left off yesterday.

Shen Jue had taken a short nap before coming over, but after listening for half an hour, he began to feel drowsy again. He raised a hand to rub his brow and handed the slightly cool handwarmer from his sleeve to a nearby attendant.

The attendant went to refill it with hot water, leaving only Shen Jue and Wen Yuyong in the hall.

With the others gone, Wen Yuyong continued reading aloud. But Shen Jue couldn’t help glancing at him several times. Yesterday’s words from Wen Yuyong had clearly hinted that he too had been reborn—so why had he shown no reaction since? In their past life, Wen Yuyong and Shi Zhou had been engaged. Now that Shi Zhou had entered the palace, wasn’t he angry?

Or perhaps… Wen Yuyong didn’t love anyone at all and only aspired to be a loyal minister?

With that thought, Shen Jue looked at Wen Yuyong again—this time, their eyes met.

Wen Yuyong’s gaze met his directly, and he stopped reading.

“Why does Your Majesty keep looking at me? Is there something on my face?” Wen Yuyong asked softly, even reaching up to wipe at his face.

Shen Jue paused for a moment before replying, “Nothing. Continue.”

Wen Yuyong hummed in acknowledgment and went on. Shen Jue was quiet for a bit, then suddenly asked, “What did you mean by what you said yesterday?”

“Hmm?” Wen Yuyong looked confused. “What does Your Majesty mean?”

“Yesterday you said I always fell. Why would you say something like that?” Shen Jue stared directly into his eyes.

Wen Yuyong looked momentarily stunned. “I… I don’t know. The words just popped into my head, so I said them.” Then he knelt down. “I overstepped. Please forgive me, Your Majesty.”

The words just popped into his head?

So that meant Wen Yuyong hadn’t actually been reborn?

For a brief moment, countless emotions flickered through Shen Jue’s eyes. Just then, the attendant returned with the refilled handwarmer. Noticing Wen Yuyong kneeling and the tense atmosphere in the hall, the attendant handed the handwarmer to Shen Jue and quietly retreated.

“As far as I know, you and Shi Zhou practically grew up together. The two of you have shared a deep bond since childhood. Now that he’s entered the palace, don’t you want to see him?” Shen Jue asked again.

This question was met with a long silence from Wen Yuyong, who finally shook his head. “Your Majesty may be mistaken. This humble official is not particularly close to Lord Feng. We rarely interacted.”

What?

But Shen Jue quickly reasoned it out—if only Shi Zhou had been reborn in this life and not Wen Yuyong, then Shi Zhou altering past events was very plausible. For example, Shi Zhou may have deliberately avoided Wen Yuyong, and the two never became childhood companions.

After all, in their past-life dynamic, Shi Zhou had always been the more enthusiastic one, the one who gave more. If Shi Zhou didn’t approach Wen Yuyong in this life, then given Wen Yuyong’s personality, he likely wouldn’t have sought Shi Zhou out either.

So that was how it was.

It explained why Wen Yuyong hadn’t reacted at all to Shi Zhou’s entry into the palace and had instead calmly taken up his post in the Hanlin Academy—as if nothing unusual had ever happened. It was because he didn’t know what had happened in the previous life.

But if Wen Yuyong hadn’t been reborn and it was Shi Zhou who had, then… could it be that the “realm master” wasn’t Wen Yuyong but Shi Zhou?

Still, some things didn’t quite add up—like that one line Wen Yuyong had said.

“Wen Yuyong,” Shen Jue said, eyes fixed on the young man in green robes still kneeling, “raise your head and tell me—do you often have random words or thoughts pop into your mind?”

Wen Yuyong obediently lifted his head. His eyes were as gentle as water, clear and deep. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“What kind of words?”

At this, Wen Yuyong’s expression became flustered. He hesitated for a moment, then stammered: “This humble official… this humble official… this humble official…”

He repeated the phrase three times and still couldn’t say what he meant.

Shen Jue frowned and moved closer. “Speak clearly. Stop stammering.”

Wen Yuyong lowered his gaze and finally forced the words out with difficulty: “May this humble official not answer?”

“No,” Shen Jue said firmly. “Wen Yuyong, if you speak falsehoods before your sovereign, then you’re unfit to serve in the Hanlin Academy.”

Wen Yuyong’s expression grew even more conflicted, but in the end, he bit his lip and said: “The words that appear in my mind… often have to do with Your Majesty. I don’t know why. If Your Majesty wishes to punish me, I’ll accept it.”

“What kind of words?” Shen Jue asked. For the first time, he found speaking with Wen Yuyong exhausting. A matter that should’ve been simple had taken so many twists and turns. At least Shi Zhou, blunt as he was, didn’t waste time.

But Wen Yuyong’s next words made Shen Jue’s expression freeze.

“If Your Majesty feels cold… you can come into my arms,” Wen Yuyong said, then lowered his head.

A long moment passed before Shen Jue looked at him again. “You want to hold me? Quite the bold move. Do you realize, just for saying that, I could sentence you to death?”

Wen Yuyong’s voice was once again calm, as if restored to his usual poise. “This humble official understands.”

“And you still said it?” Shen Jue asked.

Wen Yuyong paused. There was a trace of resignation in his voice. “Because Your Majesty asked, so I had no choice but to answer.”

Shen Jue: “…”

Shen Jue: “Can’t you just lie?”

This time, Wen Yuyong was silent again for a while before replying solemnly, “This humble official doesn’t wish to deceive Your Majesty.”

Just then, Shen Jue heard a commotion from outside—just like the night before.

That troublemaker Shi Zhou, was already up and moving again?

Shen Jue furrowed his brows. His gaze shifted slightly to the kneeling Wen Yuyong, then his pale fingers tapped lightly on the desk.

“Wen Yuyong,” he said, “come here.”

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