C137 — Kill The Top Scorer (4）

Shen Jue’s gaze swept over Shi Ji’s face before tightening his grip around Wen Yurong’s neck. “My dear Wen, let’s go.”

He completely ignored Shi Ji’s words. Wen Yurong, hearing Shen Jue’s command, silently stepped forward, leaving behind Shi Ji, whose expression had darkened.

Throughout the journey, Wen Yurong was extremely cautious. Shen Jue was too frail—holding him gave the illusion of carrying a child. Along the way, Shen Jue kept closing and opening his eyes, as if utterly exhausted.

As they neared the palace, Shen Jue suddenly spoke. “Wen Yurong, I heard that the young General Shi is your friend. Are you not saddened by his fate?”

Wen Yurong didn’t pause his steps. “Life and death are predestined. A lifetime is but a fleeting moment, gone in the blink of an eye.”

Shen Jue chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to be so detached.”

In such a short span, Shen Jue had already addressed him in three different ways. This caused a subtle shift in Wen Yurong’s expression. Upon reaching the palace gates, he realized there were no attendants outside. Left with no other choice, he carried Shen Jue inside.

After carefully placing him on the bed, Wen Yurong stood at a respectful distance, awaiting further instructions. The clothes beneath his cloak were damp, clinging uncomfortably to his body. Yet, without an imperial decree, he dared not leave at will.

Shen Jue lifted his eyes to look at Wen Yurong standing not far away. “Leave.”

“Yes.” Wen Yurong bowed and retreated. However, just as he reached the inner chamber’s doorway, a loud crash echoed from within.

He hesitated for a moment before stepping back inside. Upon entering, he found the current Emperor in a rather pitiful state—fallen to the ground, a toppled stool lying beside him.

Shen Jue, hearing Wen Yurong’s approach, turned his head and glared. “I told you to leave. Didn’t you hear me?”

The tone still carried a semblance of authority—if not for the rather sorry sight he presented.

Wen Yurong remained silent for a moment before boldly stepping forward. He lifted Shen Jue from the floor, brushed the dust off his cloak, and spoke in a gentle voice. “Whatever His Majesty wishes to do, why not just order me directly?”

For some reason, he had a strong feeling that if he left Shen Jue alone, the Emperor would end up dying in this very palace.

Shen Jue pursed his lips, his long lashes trembling slightly. After a brief moment of hesitation, he lowered his head just a little. “I need to change.”

The Emperor’s attire was intricate, and Shen Jue wore multiple layers. Dressing him took Wen Yurong quite some time. Fortunately, Shen Jue cooperated fully—standing still, allowing himself to be handled, lifting his arms when told, and raising his legs when instructed.

Once he had dressed Shen Jue properly, Wen Yurong guided him to sit on the bed before turning to leave. A short while later, he returned with a basin of water. Dipping a cloth into the water, he carefully wiped Shen Jue’s feet.

Shen Jue had walked barefoot all the way back, and the soles of his feet were stained with dust.

Just as Wen Yurong was about to take the water out to dispose of it, Shen Jue, who was sitting on the bed, suddenly spoke. “You must think I’m useless. I may be an Emperor, yet I can’t even dress myself.”

Wen Yurong’s movements paused. Keeping his head lowered, he responded, “I do not think that way, Your Majesty. Serving you is my honor. The world believes that an Emperor is meant to be cared for—this is how it should be.”

“Really?”

As soon as the words fell, Wen Yurong felt something pressing down on his shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wen Yurong caught sight of Shen Jue’s foot resting on his shoulder.

Due to his frail health, Shen Jue rarely walked on his own. He was almost always carried in a palanquin, and even within the palace, attendants catered to his every need with utmost caution. As a result, his body had been meticulously cared for, flawless in every aspect. Even his feet were more delicate than those of noble ladies.

Most men, no matter how refined, wouldn’t pay much attention to the condition of their feet. The soles would inevitably have some hardened skin. But Shen Jue’s feet were truly soft and tender. Wen Yurong had already noticed this when he accidentally brushed against them a few times while wiping them clean earlier.

Now, Shen Jue deliberately pressed his foot against Wen Yurong’s shoulder. His phoenix-shaped eyes, inherited from Tong Meng’er, lifted slightly in amusement. “My dear, you truly have a way with words; you almost managed to coax me into feeling pleased. But just now, you disobeyed my order. That’s a serious offense. Tell me, how should I punish you?”

Wen Yurong lowered his gaze and answered calmly, “I am at Your Majesty’s disposal.”

“Then I must take my time to think it over.” Shen Jue spoke, but couldn’t suppress a yawn as he raised his hand to cover his mouth. A moment later, Wen Yurong felt the foot on his shoulder lift away. Soon after, the hall fell completely silent.

He maintained his position for a long while before cautiously glancing up—only to find that the person who had just been talking about punishing him had already curled up under the blankets.

Wen Yurong hesitated, then picked up the basin and quietly exited the room. Once he stepped out of the grand hall, he let out a soft sigh.

A ruler like this would be of no benefit to the Great Wei.

…

Shen Jue had genuinely intended to deal with Wen Yurong, as he found Shi Ji rather suspicious. However, his energy was too drained. Before he could even come up with a proper punishment, the biting cold had seeped into his bones, forcing him to retreat under the covers. As soon as he lay down, he immediately fell into a deep sleep.

By the time he woke up again, they were already on the way back.

Tong Meng’er sat beside him. When she saw him stir, she reached out and gently wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “My good boy, you’re awake? Would you like to eat something?”

Shen Jue shook his head, refusing her support as he sat up on his own. Perhaps the hot springs had indeed been somewhat effective—this time, after waking up, he felt a bit more comfortable.

Lifting the carriage curtain, he glanced outside. Night had already fallen, but he wasn’t sure what time it was.

“Mother, how long did I sleep?”

“Not long, just two hours,” Tong Meng’er replied. “I had hoped you’d sleep a little longer. We’ll be back at the palace soon.”

Shen Jue let the curtain drop back into place, his gaze shifting to his mother. “Mother, do you truly believe that Wen Yurong and Shi Ji are beneficial to my health?”

At his words, a flicker of unease crossed Tong Meng’er’s expression. How could she not understand what Shen Jue meant? But as a mother, she only wished for her child’s well-being. No matter how absurd the method seemed, it was worth trying—just in case it worked. If she could, she would rather bear all of Shen Jue’s illness herself.

“Jue’er, I know you don’t like them, but can you at least try to interact with them?” Tong Meng’er took his hand in hers. “If there’s no effect, I’ll drive them away immediately.”

Shen Jue looked at her for a moment before slowly pulling his hand back. “How does Mother wish me to try?”

Tong Meng’er forced a smile. “Before, you would always send them away within a short time. This time, listen to your mother—let each of them stay by your side for a whole day, one at a time. They don’t have to do anything. Even if they just stand there like wooden stakes, that will be fine.”

Shen Jue remained silent for a long time before finally speaking. “I can try to get along with them, but Mother must promise me one thing—everything will be under my control. You must not interfere.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Tong Meng’er readily agreed.

…

However, things didn’t go as Tong Meng’er had envisioned. Instead of having them serve him separately, Shen Jue summoned both men to attend him at the same time.

Reclining on the couch, he had a eunuch massaging his feet, while Wen Yurong read aloud from a book. Meanwhile, Shi Ji was engaged in a game of pitch-pot.

“You, as my study companion, and you, as my archery instructor, should both fulfill your respective duties,” Shen Jue said.

Throughout the day, Shen Jue drifted in and out of sleep, but he forbade them from stopping. By the time evening approached, Wen Yurong’s voice was hoarse, and his hands trembled from holding the book for so long. Shi Ji, though somewhat better off, was visibly fatigued, and his accuracy in pitch-pot had worsened significantly.

Only at sunset did Shen Jue finally call for a halt—but only for Wen Yurong. “You must be exhausted. Come back tomorrow.”

Wen Yurong bowed and left. However, as he stepped out, he couldn’t help but glance at Shi Ji, who was still tossing arrows into the pot.

The evening meal was set out, but since Tong Meng’er had promised not to interfere, she did not come that day.

Shi Ji, having spent the entire day playing pitch-pot, was starving. The aroma of food filled the air, making his stomach rumble audibly. Yet Shen Jue pretended not to hear, leisurely picking at his meal and stopping after only a few bites.

He turned slightly toward Shi Ji. “Shi Ji, are you hungry?”

A soldier’s son through and through, Shi Ji spoke bluntly, unlike the more tactful Wen Yurong.

“Yes,” he admitted frankly.

Shen Jue smiled faintly. “Then answer a few of my questions, and I will grant you food. How about that?”

“Your Majesty, please ask.”

“There are eighteen dishes on this table. For every flaw of Wen Yurong that you name, you may eat one dish. Go on.” Shen Jue’s gaze locked onto Shi Ji.

Shi Ji seemed taken aback by the request. After a moment’s hesitation, he lowered his head and said, “This humble subject does not know of any flaws in Lord Wen.”

“You don’t know?” Shen Jue’s expression turned cold. “Then you can stay hungry.”

After his bath, Shen Jue returned to find Shi Ji still playing pitch-pot. He asked again, and Shi Ji still answered the same way. Without further ado, Shen Jue ordered the pitch-pot game to be moved inside and placed beside his dragon bed.

“Continue tossing. Play all night,” he commanded.

Knowing his own fragile health, Shen Jue also summoned a night-watch eunuch. “Keep an eye on him. He is not to stop. Understood?”

The eunuch trembled but nodded quickly. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Only then did Shen Jue return to bed. As expected, he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

When he awoke, daylight was already streaming in. He lay in bed for a while before finally lifting the bed curtains.

Shi Ji was still playing pitch-pot. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hands trembled violently. The eunuch stood nearby, nervously picking up arrows for him.

Shen Jue watched him in silence for a while before calling for Wen Yurong.

“Minister Wen, if you can name ten of Shi Ji’s flaws, I will let him rest.”

Wen Yurong had already heard about Shi Ji’s all-night ordeal. He hesitated briefly before beginning. “Stubborn, rigid…” His words flowed without pause until he had listed all ten.

Shen Jue nodded in satisfaction. “Indeed, Minister Wen understands me best.” He then glanced at Shi Ji with disdain. “You may leave. Come back when you’ve learned how to speak properly.”

Shen Ji’s hand paused slightly as he tossed the arrow, then, after a brief moment, he lowered his head and saluted Shen Jue before taking his leave.

On the third day, Shen Ji finally reappeared before Shen Jue. He bowed in greeting and then stood still, seemingly waiting for Shen Jue to ask him something.

Shen Jue glanced at him. “Have you learned how to speak properly now?”

“Mm.” Shen Ji nodded.

“Then tell me ten of my strengths today.”

Shen Ji, who had prepared an entire speech and even stayed up late reviewing lessons: “…”

A long silence followed before Shen Ji finally spoke, but he struggled to come up with ten compliments. Even Wen Yurong, standing nearby, frowned at his poor performance.

Shen Jue narrowed his eyes. “Can’t think of any? Then stand there until you do.”

He then turned to Wen Yurong. “Minister Wen, come here.”

His tone towards the two men was starkly different—cold and indifferent with Shen Ji, yet warm and gentle with Wen Yurong, even carrying a smile.

Shen Ji remained where he was, and if he lifted his eyes even slightly, he could see Shen Jue leaning against Wen Yurong as if he had no bones.

Wen Yurong wasn’t entirely comfortable with their proximity, but he had noticed that Shen Jue had a habit of leaning against something—whether it was a pillow or a person, as long as there was something to support him, he would use it.

The scent of dragon musk filled Wen Yurong’s nose, mixed with the strong smell of medicine.

Having served by Shen Jue’s side for some time, Wen Yurong had seen firsthand the sheer amount of medicine the emperor had to consume daily. Yet, Shen Jue never once complained about its bitterness. Even when given candied fruit to chase away the taste, he never ate them.

“What does this line mean?” Shen Jue suddenly pointed to a passage in the book.

Wen Yurong quickly provided an explanation, but as soon as he finished, he felt a weight on his shoulder. A quick glance confirmed his suspicion—Shen Jue had fallen asleep just like that.

At this moment, only the three of them were in the hall: Shen Jue, himself, and Shen Ji, who was still standing.

Wen Yurong dared not move. He only shifted his head slightly to look at Shen Ji.

Shen Ji also raised his gaze. He stared at Shen Jue, who was sleeping on Wen Yurong’s shoulder, then mouthed a silent sentence.

Wen Yurong shook his head slightly, but Shen Ji had already stepped forward. Without hesitation, he picked up the sleeping Shen Jue from the couch and carried him toward the inner chamber.

Wen Yurong was startled by his sudden action and hurried after him, only to watch in shock as Shen Ji unceremoniously tossed Shen Jue onto the bed.

“Are you insane?” Wen Yurong lowered his voice, quickly stepping to the bedside. He only relaxed when he saw that Shen Jue had not woken up.

Shen Ji looked at him. “Relax. Before I threw him, I pressed his sleep acupoint. He won’t wake up.”

“That was far too reckless,” Wen Yurong scolded, frowning. “Do you have any idea how easily the Empress Dowager would grow suspicious if he so much as has a single new bruise?”

Shen Ji scoffed. “Why would that happen? He’s a grown man, after all.”

Wen Yurong’s face darkened. He stepped forward and rolled up Shen Jue’s sleeve. As expected, a new bruise had already formed on his pale skin.

Shen Ji frowned when he saw it.

Wen Yurong sighed. “You don’t know how delicate his body is. His skin is as fragile as a child’s. From now on, don’t be so reckless. I’ll take responsibility for this incident. Just leave for now.”

…

When Shen Jue woke up, the first thing he noticed was the dull ache in his body. Before he could say anything, the bed curtains were lifted from the outside.

Wen Yurong’s face appeared, looking at him warmly. “Your Majesty, you’re awake. Would you like something to eat?”

The Grand Eunuch had once told him that Shen Jue had the temperament of a child. After spending time serving in the imperial presence, Wen Yurong found that the rumors weren’t entirely accurate. Shen Jue was willful, yes, but not to the point of cruelty. He was, more than anything, simply a spoiled child.

Wen Yurong only needed to keep this child placated, and the issue wouldn’t reach his mother.

But Shen Jue, watching Wen Yurong’s smile, was momentarily dazed. In his past lives, Wen Yurong had always smiled at him like this—whenever he was about to deceive him, he would wear this exact expression.

Shen Jue blinked lightly and suddenly raised his voice. “Summon the imperial physician.”

Empress Dowager Tong Meng’er was the first to arrive. The moment she saw the new bruises on Shen Jue’s body, her expression darkened, and the servants kneeling in the hall trembled like leaves in the wind.

“You there.” She pointed at a palace servant. “You usually attend His Majesty’s baths. Have you seen these marks before?” Her voice was ice-cold.

The servant practically pressed their whole body to the ground. “Your Majesty, last night, His Majesty was perfectly fine. These marks were absolutely not there.”

“Oh? Then they must have appeared during the day. Who was attending His Majesty today?”

The eunuch trembled as he replied, “Replying to the Empress Dowager, it was Minister Wen and Lord Shi. The rest of us were waiting outside the hall.”

Tong Meng’er’s gaze shifted to the two kneeling men. Originally, she had wanted these two to help her Jue’er recover, but now it seemed they had grown bold enough to harm him.

“Empress Dowager, it was my negligence that led to His Majesty’s injury. Please punish me,” Wen Yurong moved forward on his knees and heavily kowtowed.

“Punishment? Of course, there will be punishment,” Tong Meng’er sneered. “And you? Shi Ji, do you think this has nothing to do with you?”

Shi Ji remained silent—until he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the inner chamber.

It was Shen Jue.

He was supported by an attendant as he slowly walked to Tong Meng’er’s side. The moment she saw him, all her focus shifted to her son. “My dear, why did you come out?”

Shen Jue lazily swept his gaze over the kneeling group. “Mother is punishing them?”

“They failed in their duties; of course, they must be punished.”

Shen Jue’s eyes landed on Wen Yurong. In his past lives, he had tolerated Wen Yurong in every way, even covering up his small tricks from Tong Meng’er. But Wen Yurong had never loved him for his patience. Instead, he had worked with Shi Zhou to toy with him like a fool.

So, what if, in this life, he chose not to be lenient?

“Then punish them, Mother. Watching it will make me feel better,” Shen Jue said, smiling at Tong Meng’er.

Wen Yurong received thirty hard strikes from the military guards, each one landing solidly. By the time it was over, he couldn’t stand and had to be carried back to the Wen residence by his family’s servants.

Shi Ji, on the other hand, was found guilty of negligence and received five strikes. But his body was sturdier than Wen Yurong’s, so he remained mostly unscathed.

Wen Yurong spent a month recuperating at home, and just as he was recovering, a decree arrived at the Wen residence.

“Is His Majesty summoning me back to the palace?” Wen Yurong rushed from his courtyard to the front hall.

The Prime Minister’s expression shifted slightly upon seeing his son. “No. His Majesty’s health is poor, so he will be relocating to the Southern Palace for a period of rest. He has ordered you to continue recovering at home and not return to court.” He paused before adding, “Shi Ji, however, will be accompanying him.”

At this, the Prime Minister’s gaze turned sharp with disapproval. “Yueze, what have you done? Before you entered the palace, did I not give you clear instructions? You are close to Shi Zhou, but Shi Haoran is not the same. If His Majesty comes to trust Shi Ji, what will happen to the Wen family?”

 

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