C143 — Kill the Top Scorer（10）

Shen Jue had already been kneaded and scrubbed enough—though he had murder in his heart, he lacked the strength to do anything. In the end, he could only let Wen Yurong carry him ashore.

Even dressing him wasn’t the work of the palace attendants but Wen Yurong himself, with the attendants merely assisting him. Shen Jue couldn’t understand—he had only been ill for a little over twenty days, so why were the attendants around him suddenly so obedient to Wen Yurong?

This… perhaps had something to do with Tong Meng’er. She was the only one who could grant Wen Yurong such authority.

After the bath, the meal was prepared. Since Shen Jue had just woken from a severe illness, he could only drink a little broth. He didn’t even have the strength to sit upright and had to lean feebly against Wen Yurong, who spoon-fed the broth to his lips.

Having already suffered immense humiliation in the bath, Shen Jue surprisingly felt more at ease when it came to being fed. Fine. He lacked the strength to fight Wen Yurong now—it was better to recover first.

But when it came time to sleep, Shen Jue was stunned to see Wen Yurong standing by his bed, undoing his robes. For a moment, he was speechless, but finally, he could no longer contain his rage. Gathering all his strength, he grabbed the jade pillow from his bed and hurled it to the floor.

The commotion finally drew Tong Meng’er over.

“What’s the matter, my dear? Who made you upset?” She stepped around the shattered jade pillow, glancing at Wen Yurong before sitting beside Shen Jue. Gently, she stroked his face.

Shen Jue turned his head away, avoiding her touch. Struggling to speak, he asked, “Why… is he… here?”

Tong Meng’er understood immediately. She glanced at Wen Yurong again and said softly, “Yurong, go have some tea outside for now.”

Wen Yurong obeyed and left without hesitation.

Once he was gone, Tong Meng’er turned back to Shen Jue and sighed. “If you were upset, why throw the jade pillow? What if you hurt yourself? That thing is heavy.”

After a pause, she continued, “I know you don’t like him, but when you were gravely ill, he was the one who took care of you. Besides… I’ve already made the decision. You two are married now.”

Her words struck Shen Jue like a bolt of lightning. He never expected that after just twenty-some days of unconsciousness, everything would return to its former course—Wen Yurong had once again become his in name.

Perhaps because his expression was too dreadful, Tong Meng’er looked at him worriedly. “My dear, don’t be angry. I did this for your sake. See, you woke up only a few days after marrying him. And don’t worry, very few people know about this. No one dares gossip.”

Shen Jue had regained his composure by now. He understood that Tong Meng’er had done this out of desperation, fearing for his life. Unlike in previous lives, she hadn’t made a grand announcement or officially bestowed Wen Yurong the title of Consort.

Now that the deed was done, there was no undoing it.

After some thought, Shen Jue looked at her and said, “Mother… I am… not angry.”

The moment the words left his mouth, tears welled up in Tong Meng’er’s eyes. She quickly turned away, dabbing them with a handkerchief. “I don’t ask for much—only that you live well. Let me bear all the suffering.”

Hearing this, Shen Jue reached out weakly and touched her hand. “Don’t… cry.”

Tong Meng’er wiped away her tears and smiled. “I won’t cry. My dear is always so obedient.”

…

Long after she left, Wen Yurong finally returned. It was clear that Tong Meng’er had spoken to him before departing.

The palace attendants had already cleaned up the shattered jade pillow and replaced it with a golden silk one—perhaps fearing that Shen Jue would throw it again, they had chosen something much softer.

Afterward, the palace attendants extinguished most of the candles in the sleeping quarters, leaving only two on the table, before quietly filing out.

Once again, only Shen Jue and Wen Yurong remained in the hall.

Wen Yurong gazed at Shen Jue for a moment before kneeling on the ground and softly saying, “Your Majesty does not favor me, I know this. But the Empress Dowager has given her orders, and I dare not disobey. Once Your Majesty recovers, I will request to leave on my own.”

Shen Jue looked at the young man kneeling before him, his mind flashing through countless thoughts, even beginning to compare him to previous lifetimes. In past lives, whenever Wen Yurong saw him, he would always wear a faint smile, as if he had not a single worry in the world. It was only when Shen Jue was with him that he felt even a brief moment of peace.

But upon closer reflection, he realized that in those past lives, Wen Yurong had never truly wanted to be close to him. Every time Shen Jue touched his hand, Wen Yurong would subtly pull away, though at the time, Shen Jue had merely assumed he was shy.

This time, however, Wen Yurong seemed different. Why? Shen Jue couldn’t quite understand, but he knew that sometimes even the smallest changes could alter everything.

In past lives, Wen Yurong had been forced into the palace by an imperial decree. Before that, his impression of Shen Jue was that of a sickly tyrant. Everyone knew that he had been married into the palace to “ward off misfortune,” and behind closed doors, the ridicule was endless.

Shen Jue knew that Wen Yurong had once overheard a fellow official laughing loudly at a banquet, saying that no matter how brilliant Wen Yurong was as a top scholar, he had ultimately become nothing more than a “kept concubine.”

But in this lifetime, many things had changed, and so had Wen Yurong’s attitude toward Shen Jue.

Though Shen Jue still didn’t fully understand it, that didn’t stop him from taking the next step.

“You… come up… here,” he said with effort.

Wen Yurong remained silent for a moment before finally standing. This time, as he undressed, he never once looked up, his movements slow and hesitant, as if waiting for Shen Jue to speak and put a stop to it.

But Shen Jue said nothing, and so the two of them lay down together.

This wasn’t their first time sharing a bed, but this time, Wen Yurong’s status had changed. Unlike their time in the bath, Wen Yurong was now clearly much more restrained, lying stiffly on the outer edge of the bed without moving.

Upon noticing Wen Yurong’s change in demeanor, Shen Jue decided to take advantage of it. He shifted closer, forcibly finding a comfortable position in Wen Yurong’s arms.

Wen Yurong: “…”

He blinked, seemingly unable to comprehend how someone who had just been furious with him was now curling up in his embrace.

In the following days, they continued to sleep in the same bed. Every day, Wen Yurong helped Shen Jue with his recovery, supporting him as he walked and guiding him in regaining strength in his limbs.

Shi Ji only appeared after Shen Jue could walk and eat normally. In truth, Shi Ji had sent memorials requesting an audience much earlier—even before Wen Yurong—but every one of them had been suppressed by Tong Meng’er.

At the time, Tong Meng’er had been too preoccupied with Shen Jue’s critical condition to meet with Shi Ji. Later, when Wen Yurong submitted a request, Tong Meng’er had recalled the words of the Grand Diviner and decided to allow him into the palace.

Upon learning that Wen Yurong had taken residence in the palace, Shi Ji became anxious and began submitting petitions at an alarming rate. Perhaps his unwavering loyalty moved Tong Meng’er, or perhaps she simply grew tired of his persistence—in the end, she granted him an audience with the Emperor.

…

At the sound of “Rise,” Shi Ji finally got up from the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he naturally caught sight of Wen Yurong sitting beside Shen Jue, causing his brows to furrow slightly.

Shen Jue still seemed weak, gazing at Shi Ji with a tired expression. “Why have you come to the palace today?”

“Your servant is concerned about Your Majesty, so I wanted to enter the palace to check on you,” Shi Ji said in a deep voice.

He truly was a martial general—he never knew how to phrase his words.

Shen Jue was already used to Shi Ji’s manner of speaking, so he simply smiled nonchalantly. “Now that you’ve seen me, I’m fine.”

“Mm.” Shi Ji replied.

He spoke only that one word before falling silent, his eyes glancing toward the empty chair next to him, silently indicating that Shen Jue should grant him a seat.

It had to be said that ever since Shi Ji had become more audacious, his courage had grown considerably.

Shen Jue ignored him, and Wen Yurong, who was nearby, shifted his gaze but remained silent. So, Shi Ji had no choice but to continue standing.

However, Shen Jue couldn’t remain seated for long and soon began to feel drowsy. He glanced at Shi Ji and said, “You may leave now. I’m tired.”

“Yes,” Shi Ji replied.

After exiting the hall, his expression clearly became much more serious.

…

In the following days, although Shen Jue had recovered somewhat, he was still far from being like a normal person. Tong Meng’er visited every day to accompany him for meals, and upon seeing Wen Yurong sitting beside him, she said, “Come, eat with us. We’re all family.”

She spoke to Shen Jue without avoiding Wen Yurong, acting as though the latter was already part of their family.

Since Shen Jue had woken up, Tong Meng’er had fully believed the words of the Grand Diviner, who had said that Wen Yurong brought good fortune to Shen Jue. People were always greedy, and seeing that Shen Jue still appeared weak, Tong Meng’er hoped to make him recover even more.

She was very secretive about her actions, subtly adding tonics to Wen Yurong’s meals for several days. As a result, Wen Yurong suddenly began having nosebleeds in the middle of the day.