C136 — Kill the Top Scholar (3)

On the way to the Water Pavilion, Wen Yurong and the others found that Shen Jue’s condition had already deteriorated.

Inside the Water Pavilion, there was a delicately carved chaise lounge, where Shen Jue was placed to rest. To preserve the dignity of the imperial family, a beaded curtain was drawn in front of the lounge, concealing his figure behind it.

By the time the group arrived, Shen Jue was feeling dizzy and could barely lie down on the bed. He couldn’t even clearly hear what Tong Meng’er and the others were saying.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he suddenly felt something touch his calf. Shen Jue frowned and turned his head, only to see an extremely familiar face.

Wen Yurong’s name suited him well—his features were as fine as jade, his complexion smooth and polished, with an icy yet refined aura. He was truly a beauty sculpted from jade, yet without any trace of feminine softness. Instead, his beauty carried the strength and handsomeness of a man.

Regardless of gender, anyone who saw Wen Yurong for the first time would be momentarily stunned, questioning whether they were hallucinating—how else could they be seeing an immortal descended from the heavens?

However, Shen Jue had seen this face too many times before. Now that his memories had returned, his heart remained completely unshaken. He simply furrowed his brows and asked, “What are you doing?”

Wen Yurong withdrew his hand and, without haste, knelt on the ground. “The Empress Dowager instructed this humble servant to massage His Majesty’s legs, saying His Majesty must be fatigued. However, this servant is clumsy and has disturbed Your Majesty’s rest. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

He was dressed in a sky-blue summer robe, exuding an air of freshness and elegance. However, Shen Jue was in no mood to appreciate it.

Shen Jue propped himself up on his elbow and looked outside through the beaded curtain. He seemed to see figures moving beyond it and immediately struggled to get out of bed—he needed to have a proper conversation with Tong Meng’er.

But Shen Jue had overestimated his own strength. The moment his feet touched the ground, his body gave out, and he collapsed.

Wen Yurong’s eyes flickered as he instinctively reached out to support Shen Jue. However, since he was kneeling, he couldn’t exert much force. Instead of stabilizing Shen Jue, he was dragged down with him.

Yet, he never forgot that Shen Jue was the emperor. If they were going to fall, he had to be the one to cushion the impact.

Thus, Shen Jue ended up landing directly on top of Wen Yurong, his head knocking against the latter’s chest. Already feeling faint, the additional impact made his vision blur with stars, rendering him momentarily immobile.

Since Shen Jue didn’t move, Wen Yurong naturally didn’t dare to move either.

Hearing the commotion inside, the people outside hurried in. Upon seeing the scene before them, they gasped, “Good heavens, how did you fall?”

With multiple hands supporting him, Shen Jue was helped back onto the bed. His dignity was thoroughly shattered.

This first meeting with Wen Yurong in this lifetime was even more embarrassing than in previous ones.

Shen Jue had a prideful nature—otherwise, he wouldn’t have almost killed the Youngest Prince of the Heavenly Emperor in the past. Now, having fallen onto Wen Yurong so disgracefully, unable even to stand up on his own, made him feel utterly frustrated.

At that moment, he found himself annoyed by everything—including Tong Meng’er.

Shen Jue didn’t even know how many people were outside the beaded curtain, but it was likely that they all now saw him as a useless, sickly emperor.

“Be good, don’t be angry anymore. This time, it was Mother’s fault.” Tong Meng’er, sensing Shen Jue’s irritation, kept apologizing. Seeing that he still refused to look at her, she paused for a moment before adding, “Then how about Mother executes everyone who was at the Water Pavilion yesterday—will that make you feel better?”

Shen Jue opened his eyes and finally turned to look at her. “Killing only those in the Water Pavilion isn’t enough. If Mother truly wishes to erase the shame, she might have to kill everyone in the empire.”

Hearing this, Tong Meng’er knew that his anger had subsided somewhat. She immediately put on a bright smile. “As long as my dear Jue’er is happy, I can kill as many as you wish. Don’t be upset anymore. That top scholar from yesterday was truly no good—he made you lose face. Why not start with him?”

Shen Jue pressed his lips together. “Mother, just say what you really mean.”

At his words, Tong Meng’er’s smile shifted slightly. She reached out and gently touched Shen Jue’s face. “My dear child, the head of the Imperial Astronomy Bureau has said that Wen Yurong’s birth chart is the most compatible with yours. If he stays by your side, your health might gradually improve. Mother also noticed that you don’t have anyone close to you. Yesterday, he did step forward to protect you, which shows he is clever. I later sent people to follow him, and he hasn’t spoken a word about what happened in the palace. That suggests he is discreet. So why not…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear—she wanted to bring Wen Yurong into the palace.

Tong Meng’er studied Shen Jue’s expression. Seeing that he wasn’t moved, she smoothly changed the subject, bringing up another person. “If you don’t like Wen Yurong, that’s fine. He can enter the palace first, and you can develop feelings over time.” She paused before continuing, “Even if you don’t like him, he can still stay. After all, being an emperor means having a harem of thousands. Mother saw some other fine candidates yesterday—any of them could be brought in.

“One of them is called Shi Ji—he’s the older brother of Shi Zhou. His younger brother’s death has left him quite distraught; his eyes were swollen from crying. Although we just killed his brother, having the chance to serve you in the palace would still be a great honor for him.”

Compared to Wen Yurong, Tong Meng’er had taken a liking to Shi Ji at first sight.

Shi Ji was tall and well-built, one of the most handsome men in the capital. Wen Yurong, on the other hand, was almost too beautiful—his body didn’t seem particularly strong. How could someone like that be fit to serve her dear Jue’er?

Shi Ji was different. Tong Meng’er didn’t judge men the way little maidens did—she didn’t just look at their faces; she looked at their bodies.

Shi Ji’s waist was simply flawless—one look and she could tell he was strong, definitely able to endure in bed.

Moreover, bringing Shi Ji into the palace would give them leverage over the Shi family. The timing of Shi Zhou’s death was too suspicious; there was a chance that the Shi family was harboring doubts. If Shi Ji were in the palace, his life would be in their hands. Would the Shi family dare to make a move then?

Shen Jue hadn’t expected that Tong Meng’er would actually try to bring Shi Ji into the palace as well. His brow twitched as he said, “Mother, let’s just forget about this. Son doesn’t need these people serving by my side.”

Tong Meng’er clicked her tongue. “Why? Mother is quite pleased looking at their fresh, youthful faces. You don’t find them pleasing? At least spend some time with them first, alright?”

It was clear that Tong Meng’er was dead set on bringing Wen Yurong into the palace. No matter how Shen Jue refused, she wouldn’t budge. In the end, the two compromised.

Wen Yurong would enter the palace but under the title of the Emperor’s study companion. He would reside in the palace for fifteen days each month and spend the remaining fifteen days at home.

As for Shi Ji, whom Tong Meng’er especially favored, he was also brought into the palace under the identity of the Emperor’s riding and archery instructor. However, with Shen Jue’s frail body, he couldn’t even mount a horse.

Shi Ji, like Wen Yurong, would stay in the palace for fifteen days each month and the other fifteen at home.

As for the other talented young men that Tong Meng’er had her eye on, they ultimately didn’t enter the palace. Shen Jue’s expressions had already turned dark with displeasure, and Tong Meng’er knew when to stop. She quickly had the imperial decree drafted.

Shen Jue agreed to bringing Shi Ji into the palace for his own reasons. He felt that Shi Zhou’s death had been too easy. So, he needed someone close to Shi Zhou to investigate further—to see if he had truly died.

A person could pretend for a while, but not forever. If Shi Zhou was still alive, Shi Ji would surely slip up eventually.

—

Thus, with two imperial decrees, the two most famous handsome men of the capital became imperial companions.

However, in this lifetime, Wen Yurong’s identity was that of a study companion. While some found it strange, they didn’t think too deeply about it. Many even praised his luck in private. After all, the Emperor’s study companion was the person closest to the Emperor. Though being near a ruler was as dangerous as being near a tiger, if one could tame the tiger, their future would be bright.

As for Shi Ji, most people believed his appointment was an act of imperial benevolence—compensation for Shi Haoran’s tragic loss of his youngest son. They assumed it was a public display, proving that even though the Shi family had lost a young general, they still held a special place in the Emperor’s heart.

But that was only what fools thought.

The truly intelligent had already noticed that these decrees were unusual.

The ministers all knew that Shen Jue’s health was poor—attending morning court seven times a month was already a miracle. With such a frail body, what need did he have for a study companion or an archery instructor?

On the surface, it looked like a favor, but in reality, who knew what the true purpose was?

The officials had no fondness for the demon Empress or the tyrant Emperor.

But Shen Jue didn’t care what others thought. He was already struggling just to eat, and every extra step he took made his chest ache unbearably.

Simply staying alive was exhausting.

In this lifetime, instead of trying to make Wen Yurong fall in love with him, it was more important for him to focus on surviving first.

—

The day after the decrees were issued, Wen Yurong and Shi Ji entered the palace.

Tong Meng’er personally selected their residences—one to the left of Chengde Hall and one to the right. Anyone who wished to enter the imperial harem would have to pass through Chengde Hall first. This setup also prevented Wen Yurong and Shi Ji from engaging in any illicit affairs within the harem.

Although Shen Jue had no concubines, there were still a few noble consorts and imperial dowagers residing in the inner palace.

On their first day in the palace, Wen Yurong and Shi Ji were required to formally express their gratitude for the imperial favor.

When they arrived, Shen Jue had just woken from his afternoon nap, and a eunuch was still combing his hair.

Wen Yurong remained silent upon hearing that the Emperor had just woken, only glancing at the setting sun.

Shi Ji, however, showed no reaction, his expression cold and unreadable.

Once the doors were opened from within, the leading eunuch guided the two inside.

Upon entering the side hall, they lifted their robes and knelt on the ground.

“Your humble servant greets Your Majesty.”

Shen Jue leaned back on the dragon throne, his gaze half-lowered as he looked at the two young men kneeling before him. Young—they were indeed young. His own body was already approaching thirty, while Wen Yurong had just come of age, and Shi Ji was only twenty-two this year.

No wonder Tong Meng’er said seeing them would make one happy. Their youthful and vibrant presence seemed completely out of place in this lifeless and oppressive palace.

“Rise,” he said wearily.

Wen and Shi both stood up, but Shen Jue thought for a moment and found he had nothing to say. In the end, he simply let them withdraw.

He had yet to decide how to treat Wen Yurong. In past lives, every version of Wen Yurong he had seen had been false. Even the preferences he had come to know were likely lies. This time, he would have to start over—he needed more time to think.

The next day, Wen Yurong and Shi Ji were to begin their respective duties.

Tong Meng’er had arranged Wen Yurong’s time slot for the morning and Shi Ji’s for the afternoon, so early in the morning, Wen Yurong arrived at Chengde Hall.

The grand eunuch of Chengde Hall bowed slightly upon seeing Wen Yurong. “Lord Wen, His Majesty is still sleeping at this hour. Would you like to wait in the side hall and have some tea?”

Wen Yurong nodded gently. “I’ll trouble you, Eunuch.”

“No trouble at all. This way, please.”

As a result, Wen Yurong waited until the sun had fully risen. Several cups of tea had been served, yet Shen Jue had still not woken up.

It was only close to noon that the grand eunuch hurriedly arrived and invited Wen Yurong in, saying that Shen Jue had finally awakened.

Wen Yurong’s expression remained unchanged as he followed the eunuch into the main hall. As he approached, he heard Shen Jue speaking.

Due to his weak health, Shen Jue’s voice was delicate and soft. Though he was a grown man, he sounded somewhat like a child.

“I don’t want to wear anything so thick today. Bring me something lighter.”

The servants hesitated. Shen Jue’s body was frail—if he dressed too lightly and caught a chill, their heads would be at risk.

Just as they were struggling with what to do, a melodious male voice rang out.

“It’s hot at noon. Why not wear something light for now and change into something warmer when the sun starts to set?”

Hearing this voice, Shen Jue immediately recognized the speaker. Without looking at him, he simply glanced at his servants. “Did you hear that? Do as he says.”

Wen Yurong watched this exchange and paused slightly, a suspicion inexplicably surfacing in his mind. And soon enough, that suspicion was confirmed.

Since Tong Meng’er had gone to the temple to pray today, she had no time to tend to her son. As a result, her son was throwing a tantrum at home—either fussing about wearing fewer layers or demanding more food. And if the servants refused him, he would immediately cast his gaze toward Wen Yurong.

His eyes were crystal clear, their meaning obvious—

“You say something. Hurry up!”

In past lives, the servants who attended Shen Jue inexplicably listened to Wen Yurong’s words. No matter what request Shen Jue made, as long as Wen Yurong said it, it suddenly became entirely reasonable and justifiable.

So this time, Shen Jue decided not to let that talent go to waste.

Thus, during the hour and a half Wen Yurong spent attending to him, all he did was interpret Shen Jue’s glances and speak on his behalf to the servants.

Thanks to Wen Yurong’s eloquence, Shen Jue was, for the first time ever, granted a small bowl of red bean ice.

This stuff—Tong Meng’er rarely let Shen Jue touch it.

And sure enough, after eating the ice dessert, Shen Jue fell ill that afternoon. Upon hearing the news, Tong Meng’er rushed back from the temple, furious. Without hesitation, she ordered Wen Yurong to kneel outside Chengde Hall as punishment.

…

Kneeling outside, Wen Yurong caught the attention of the senior eunuch, who pitied him. Taking advantage of the lack of onlookers, he walked over to offer some advice. He had once received the prime minister’s kindness.

“Lord Wen, His Majesty’s temper is like that of a child. You can’t indulge him. If you do, it’s us lowly servants who suffer the consequences,” the eunuch whispered, afraid of being overheard.

Wen Yurong lowered his head. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Thank you for the advice, Eunuch. I will remember it in the future.”

…

Inside the inner hall.

Tong Meng’er looked at Shen Jue’s sickly appearance, fuming with anger, yet unable to bear scolding him. She could only speak in a soft, gentle voice. “Why did you insist on eating that ice dessert? Who tricked you into eating it? I’ll have their skin peeled off.”

Shen Jue shook his head slightly. “I wanted to eat it myself. It’s no one else’s fault. Mother, please spare the little eunuch who brought the ice dessert.”

Tong Meng’er’s eyes widened. “Let him keep holding it. I want to see if he ever dares to bring such nonsense to you again!”

Outside, the little eunuch who had served Shen Jue at noon was now kneeling with a large bowl of ice dessert in his hands.

After speaking, Tong Meng’er’s gaze shifted slightly. “Why aren’t you pleading for Wen Yurong?”

“Even if I spoke up, Mother wouldn’t let him go. So why should I say anything?” Shen Jue replied.

“Hmph! You little fox, did you do this on purpose? You’ve never fussed about wanting ice dessert before, yet today you suddenly throw a fit about it.” Tong Meng’er tapped his nose. “You don’t want your nation’s future pillar to be reduced to a mere study companion, do you? If you dare to keep messing with your own health, I’ll simply dr-ug him and toss him in front of you.”

In past lives, Tong Meng’er had indeed tried to dr-ug Wen Yurong. She knew her son’s health was weak and couldn’t afford to have Wen Yurong pinned down and forced. That would be too disgraceful—too cruel. And Shen Jue would be the first to refuse.

So, she had chosen to give Wen Yurong a potent aphrodisiac instead. In her mind, intimacy on the bed would naturally lead to emotional attachment off it.

But every time, it had been Shi Zhou who neutralized the dru-g in Wen Yurong’s system.

…

Because he knew what Tong Meng’er had done before, Shen Jue’s expression turned stern. “Mother, if you d-rug Wen Yurong… then I’ll let him have me.”

Tong Meng’er’s eyes widened instantly, her lips trembling with anger. It took her a long time to finally say, “You little brat, you wouldn’t dare!”

In her fury, she stormed outside, grabbed a servant, and struck them twice, her palm turning red from the impact. Only then did she return, looking at the sickly Shen Jue lying in bed, sighing over and over again.

 

Shen Jue didn’t get to talk to Tong Meng’er for long before he drifted back into unconsciousness. The next day, when he woke up, he learned that Tong Meng’er had been truly furious yesterday—Wen Yurong had been forced to kneel until dawn. Only when he fainted was he finally carried away.

So that morning, Wen Yurong didn’t come. In the afternoon, Shen Jue met with Shi Ji.

Shi Ji was different from Wen Yurong. He rarely spoke. If Shen Jue said something, he would listen in silence; if Shen Jue remained quiet, he would simply stand beside him.

Shen Jue’s health was poor—he couldn’t go horseback riding or archery, nor could he even visit the training grounds. Shi Ji never mentioned these things either, merely standing rigidly by his side.

Shen Jue studied Shi Ji for a moment and noticed that his eyes were still a little red. A thought crossed his mind, and he slowly asked, “Has your younger brother been buried?”

At the mention of his brother, Shi Ji’s expression shifted visibly. A deep sorrow flashed in his gaze. He lowered his head and replied in a subdued voice, “He has.”

“I’m in poor health and couldn’t go to offer my condolences.” Shen Jue’s eyes flickered as he instructed someone to bring over a lotus flower that had yet to bloom. “Take this as a gift from me to your brother—place it on his grave.”

Shi Ji accepted the lotus and immediately knelt in gratitude.

A flower plucked before it could bloom—was that not an intentional metaphor for Shi Zhou?

Shen Jue’s meaning was impossible to ignore. Shi Ji’s expression nearly cracked, but Shen Jue was the emperor, and he was the subject.

After presenting the flower, Shen Jue dismissed Shi Ji. This initial test was satisfactory, but he couldn’t let his guard down yet.

—

The days that followed were simple—Shen Jue would meet with the two of them briefly before sending them away. Tong Meng’er observed this, growing increasingly anxious. As autumn approached, she took Shen Jue to a countryside villa near the capital to soak in the hot springs. Of course, she didn’t forget to bring Wen Yurong and Shi Ji along.

The villa was located in the mountains outside the capital, heavily guarded by soldiers.

By the time they arrived, it was already afternoon. The temperature in the mountains was significantly colder than in the city. Shen Jue, naturally prone to chills, still felt cold despite wearing layers.

Tong Meng’er quickly sent him to soak in the hot spring, but she also ordered Wen Yurong and Shi Ji to go with him—under the pretense of “guarding” him.

Shen Jue, dressed in a thin robe, lounged in the pool while Wen Yurong and Shi Ji sat on either side, keeping a considerable distance from him.

Without Tong Meng’er’s orders, the two wouldn’t have dared to enter the water at all. Even now, sharing a bath with the emperor was awkward beyond words.

The steam from the hot spring shrouded their figures in mist, alleviating some of the awkwardness. Shen Jue leaned against the edge of the pool, letting the medicinal bath soothe his weary body. It was rare for him to feel such comfort, so he paid no mind to the other two.

But after soaking for too long, his limbs began to weaken.

Shen Jue lifted his head and called for his attendants—only to realize that all the servants who had been standing by earlier were nowhere to be seen.

Shen Jue frowned just as a voice spoke from behind.

“Your Majesty wishes to get out? Allow this minister to assist you.” It was Wen Yurong’s voice.

The bottom of the pool was lined with smooth pebbles, and there was nothing nearby to hold onto. With Shen Jue’s frail body, getting out by himself was impossible. He could only turn his head to look at Wen Yurong, whose face was mostly obscured by the rising steam.

“Come here,” Shen Jue said.

The sound of water shifting grew closer.

Wen Yurong’s robes clung to him, soaked through from the hot spring. Shen Jue took one glance before quickly turning his head away, reaching out a hand.

Wen Yurong grasped Shen Jue’s arm, while his other hand carefully supported Shen Jue’s lower back, attempting to lift him up. But he had overestimated Shen Jue’s fragile body.

Instead of getting out, Shen Jue slipped back into the water. Wen Yurong hurriedly caught him—this time, since he was standing, he managed to hold Shen Jue securely. However, the impact wasn’t entirely avoided.

Shen Jue’s forehead slammed into Wen Yurong’s chin.

Wen Yurong let out a small hiss of pain, his chin turning red. But Shen Jue fared even worse—dizzy from the hit, his legs went weak, and he began sliding downward again.

Wen Yurong had no choice but to hold him even tighter, steadying his grip as he murmured, “Your Majesty, forgive this minister’s impropriety.”

It took a long moment before Shen Jue barely managed to regain his balance. His hand rested on Wen Yurong’s shoulder when he suddenly felt a gaze on him.

Other than them, the only other person here was Shi Ji.

Anyone with sense knew they shouldn’t stare directly at the emperor, yet Shi Ji’s gaze was so blatant.

Shen Jue’s brows knitted together. After a pause, he patted Wen Yurong’s shoulder.

“Carry me up.”

Wen Yurong hesitated briefly but said nothing, obediently lifting Shen Jue out of the water. But even after getting out, Shen Jue still didn’t let go.

“Carry me back to the hall.”

Then, as if remembering something, he turned to look at Shi Ji, who was still in the water.

“Shi Ji, bring me my cloak.”

Shi Ji took a moment before rising from the pool.

The moment he emerged, Shen Jue tensed and quickly averted his gaze.

Shi Ji’s robes clung even more snugly than Wen Yurong’s. Soaked through, the fabric left nothing to the imagination—especially three inches below his abdomen. When he stood tall and took a step forward, the sheer weight of what was revealed was impossible to ignore.

Shen Jue could only turn his head away, pretending he hadn’t seen anything.

Comparison truly was infuriating.

Shi Ji stepped onto the stone path effortlessly, picking up the crimson lacquered tray that held Shen Jue’s cloak. He walked over, his gaze flickering toward Wen Yurong, who still held Shen Jue in his arms.

His lips pressed into a thin line before he draped the cloak over Shen Jue. Then, without hesitation, he picked up Wen Yurong’s cloak and covered him as well.

Wen Yurong murmured a quiet thanks before preparing to carry Shen Jue forward.

But just as he took a step, Shi Ji spoke from beside him.

“Your Majesty, this minister has more strength. It would be better if I carried you back instead.”

 

---

TN:

I updated 🎉🎉🎉

Someone commented, and I really wanted to do this for them. Ty for commenting. 🫶

I’ve been in a slump so maybe reading about someone else’s suffering will help🥲

I think Shi Ji is Shi Zhuo (⁠☞⁠ ⁠ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ⁠)⁠☞

Lesssgooo