C147 — Kill the Top Scorer（14）

Shen Jue was still muddled from the wine, his thoughts sluggish. He heard the words but didn’t immediately grasp their meaning.

At that moment, someone else entered from outside.

The man stepped into the inner hall, his expression shifting slightly when he saw them. “This humble subject greets Your Majesty and the Crown Prince.”

Shen Yongcheng quickly withdrew his hand from Shen Jue’s temples, looking slightly awkward. He didn’t know how to react to Wen Yurong’s formal bow. Shen Jue was lying in his arms—he couldn’t just shove him away. Shen Jue was his imperial uncle, after all.

For this Wanshou Festival, he had specially prepared a gift to present to Shen Jue privately. So when Shen Jue left the banquet, he followed. Seeing the emperor looking unwell on the couch, he had stepped forward to massage his temples.

Back at home, he used to do this for his mother too—ever since his father’s situation, she had taken to drinking heavily.

Hearing Wen Yurong’s voice, Shen Jue’s hazy mind cleared a bit. He sat up and said, “Rise.” Then turned to look at Shen Yongcheng behind him. “Why are you here?”

Shen Yongcheng forced a smile. “Imperial Uncle, this son has a birthday gift to present to you.”

Originally, Shen Yongcheng had been adopted as Shen Jue’s heir and should have started calling him “Imperial Father.” But Shen Jue disliked that, so Shen Yongcheng still called him “Imperial Uncle,” though in front of Shen Jue, he referred to himself as “this son.”

The difference between “Imperial Uncle” and “Imperial Father” might seem subtle, but the implications were vast. Shen Yongcheng knew well that Shen Jue didn’t particularly like him.

He hurriedly pulled out an embroidered box from his sleeve and held it up with both hands. “This son wishes Imperial Uncle endless longevity and everlasting fortune.”

Shen Jue glanced at the box, reached out to take it, and said, “Mm. You may go.”

“Yes.” Shen Yongcheng quickly got up and retreated.

Once he had left, Wen Yurong slowly walked over to Shen Jue’s side. He glanced at the gift box Shen Jue had tossed aside and asked, “The crown prince brought it especially for you. Aren’t you going to open it?”

Shen Jue rubbed his temples. “I’ll look at it tomorrow.”

Wen Yurong studied him, then sat down beside the couch. “Is Your Majesty feeling unwell?”

He had seen clearly when he entered—Shen Jue was lying in Shen Yongcheng’s arms, and the crown prince’s hand had been massaging his temples.

Wen Yurong’s eyes darkened slightly. He gently rested his hands on Shen Jue’s head. “You drank tonight, Your Majesty. You’ll likely have a headache tomorrow.”

Shen Jue gave a small sound of acknowledgment and laid down, resting his head on Wen Yurong’s lap. The alcohol had made him even more drained. Forcing himself to speak, he asked, “I thought you wouldn’t come tonight. Didn’t the Chancellor say anything when he saw you?”

You weren’t going to come? So Shen Yongcheng came instead?

Wen Yurong smiled faintly. “The Chancellor only told me to serve Your Majesty with full devotion.”

After saying that, he waited a moment, but Shen Jue didn’t respond. He lowered his head to look—and saw that the man lying in his lap had already fallen asleep.

That usually pale face now had a slight flush from the wine, his lips half-red and half-pale, giving him a somewhat sickly appearance.

Wen Yurong leaned in closer, stopping only when he could see the hair on Shen Jue’s face.

He softly called out, “Your Majesty? Your Majesty?”

Shen Jue’s long lashes fluttered slightly, as if struggling to wake up, but in the end, sleep won out.

Wen Yurong looked down at the sleeping emperor, his expression gradually turning solemn. He stroked Shen Jue’s face gently, caressing it for a moment—then, suddenly, his hand lifted and struck him.

The drunk man didn’t react at all, his head turning slightly from the slap.

Wen Yurong hadn’t used much force, but it was enough to redden Shen Jue’s cheek. He stared at the mark for a while, then touched the flushed skin again. His fingers slid slowly, inch by inch, until they reached the emperor’s chin.

Only then did he smile—just a little.

……
The aftereffects of Shen Jue’s drinking left him groggy for the entire next day. Tong Meng’er came to visit and, upon seeing how unwell he looked, specially summoned the head of the Imperial Medical Bureau to examine him.

Coincidentally, it was a gloomy, rainy day.

As thunder rumbled outside, Shen Jue listlessly turned over in bed. Beside him, Wen Yurong was reading aloud from a book, but his voice was gradually drowned out by the sound of the rain.

“Looks like summer’s on its way,” Wen Yurong said, glancing out the window thoughtfully.

Hearing that, Shen Jue suddenly spoke. “It’s been almost a year since Shi Zhou died, hasn’t it?”

Wen Yurong’s expression shifted slightly. When he turned back, his face had already returned to calm. “Yes.”

“Shi Zhou won many victories for Great Wei. Why don’t you visit his grave on the anniversary for me?” Shen Jue said, still staring at the intricate carvings on the canopy of the bed, not looking at Wen Yurong.

Wen Yurong quietly agreed.

Just then, a palace servant came in to report that the crown prince, Shen Yongcheng, had arrived.

At the mention of Shen Yongcheng, Shen Jue suddenly remembered the gift he had brought last night, which he still hadn’t opened.

Although Shen Jue held little affection for the boy, he had accepted the gift, so he sat up and had the palace servants bring over the brocade box that had been left on the bed.

When he opened it, he found a jade pendant carved with a dragon motif. The craftsmanship was quite refined, and on the back of the pendant were a few small engraved characters—“Presented by Yongcheng.”

“Looks like the crown prince carved it himself. Quite thoughtful,” Wen Yurong said softly from beside him.

“He put in some effort,” Shen Jue replied flatly, then had the servants help him dress. Once he was in the outer hall, he gave permission for Shen Yongcheng to be brought in.

Shen Yongcheng entered cautiously, knelt to pay his respects, and after being told to rise, stood quietly as though awaiting a reprimand.

Shen Jue didn’t have much experience dealing with younger relatives, and seeing the boy stand there silently, he wasn’t sure what to say either. It was Wen Yurong who finally broke the awkwardness with a smile. “Have a seat, Crown Prince. The imperial kitchen will be sending over some lotus seed and lily bulb porridge soon. Stay and have some.”

“Yes,” Shen Yongcheng answered, though he still didn’t sit. Instead, he snuck a glance at Shen Jue.

Catching that glance, Shen Jue frowned slightly. He’d heard the Chancellor praise Shen Yongcheng as exceptionally clever. But right now, he didn’t seem all that clever.

Noticing Shen Jue’s frown, Shen Yongcheng immediately lowered his head, hardly daring to breathe.

“Sit down. Don’t just stand there like an idiot. Did you come to see me just to be punished? If you’re so eager to stand, go to the archery field,” Shen Jue said coldly.

Only then did Shen Yongcheng hurriedly take a seat. After a long pause, he finally gathered the courage to speak. “Did Imperial Uncle see the gift I gave? Do you… like it?”

“I like it. You were thoughtful. If there’s anything you want, just go to the storeroom and take it later,” Shen Jue replied.

“I didn’t come to ask for gifts,” Shen Yongcheng said after a brief hesitation. “It’s just that I’ve encountered many difficulties in my martial training lately… and there’s no one to guide me.”

His words were tactfully put, but Shen Jue understood. Shen Yongcheng had come to plead for Shi Ji.

Since his punishment, Shi Ji had been under house arrest. Shi Haoran hadn’t begged for him, but Shen Yongcheng was the first to speak on his behalf.

“Then have Shi Ji come to the palace to continue teaching you,” Shen Jue said indifferently.

It was better to keep Shi Ji in the palace—within his sight—than have him hidden who knows where.

……
The next afternoon, Shi Ji came to Chengde Palace to express gratitude.

He had to admit, as a martial artist, Shi Ji’s body was naturally stronger. That day, his buttocks and thighs were nearly beaten to a pulp, but now, less than a month later, he had fully recovered, and there was no sign of any issue when he walked.

Shen Jue looked at Shi Ji with a hint of envy, then thought to himself that if he were Wen Yurong, he would probably prefer Shi Zhou. With his current broken body, who would want to serve someone who gasps for breath after taking a few steps?

This situation was hard to break.

Shen Jue initially thought he had killed Shi Zhou, but now it seemed more like he had killed the wrong person. However, he needed to verify this.

If he found that this Shi Ji wasn’t the real Shi Ji, then Wen Yurong had been deceiving him and might have already been in secret communication with Shi Ji.

Shi Ji had soaked in hot springs with him a few times, and his face showed no changes. Perhaps the disguise wasn’t affected by water, or only a special potion could remove it.

“Shi Ji, if it weren’t for your brother’s memorial in a few days, I wouldn’t want to release you so soon,” Shen Jue said coldly, looking at Shi Ji. “I hope you’re smart enough not to disgrace your grandfather and father.”

Shi Ji’s breathing quickened slightly, and he lowered his head in reply, “Yes.”

Soon it was the day of Shi Zhou’s memorial. Wen Yurong hadn’t stayed overnight at the palace but returned to his own residence.

Many people came to pay their respects to Shi Zhou today, including some ministers from the court, but the weather was unkind, with heavy rain falling.

Shen Jue stood under the corridor in a green cloak, watching the raindrops cascade from the eaves, splashing onto the gray-blue tiles.

Shen Yongcheng approached from a distance and was taken aback by the scene, even stopping in his tracks. In his memory, his royal uncle always sat or lay lazily, rarely standing upright. Now he noticed that when his uncle stood, his back was very straight.

Even in midsummer, Shen Jue wore significantly more than others. Though Shen Yongcheng had dressed lightly, he was already sweating after just a short walk. Yet his royal uncle remained icy, like a block of ice, incongruous in this summer heat.

Perhaps Shen Yongcheng had stared for too long, as Shen Jue noticed him and turned his head, looking at Shen Yongcheng with indifference, his phoenix eyes glinting coldly.

Just as Shen Yongcheng was about to greet him, he saw Shen Jue turn back, seemingly ignoring him.

Shen Yongcheng: “…”

He had no choice but to walk several steps closer before finally bowing, “Your nephew pays respects to my royal uncle.”

“Mm.” Shen Jue responded dismissively, his gaze still fixed on the rain outside.

Shen Yongcheng got up and followed Shen Jue’s line of sight, seeing nothing of interest. Perhaps his uncle’s thoughts were too profound for him to fathom.

After an unknown amount of time, someone hurriedly approached from the other end of the corridor.

Upon seeing Shen Jue, the person immediately knelt down, “Your Majesty, I have urgent matters to report.”

Shen Jue turned to look at the person, his expression changing.

Seeing this, Shen Yongcheng wisely said, “I shall take my leave, then.”

After Shen Yongcheng left, the person spoke in a low voice, “Your Majesty, there has been a landslide, and Minister Wen has sustained minor injuries…”

“What about the coffin?” Shen Jue interrupted.

“Our people took a leg bone during the chaos,” the person replied.

Shen Jue curled his lip slightly, “Good job. Calculate the age from the bone as quickly as possible.”

Even though Shi Zhou’s body had turned to bones, an experienced coroner could estimate the deceased’s age just from the bones.

Shi Ji and Shi Zhou were five years apart in age, so even with some discrepancies, there should be a way to estimate. He was eager to see whether it was Shi Zhou or Shi Ji who had died.

“By the way, how is Wen Yurong?” Shen Jue shifted his gaze back to the rain. The downpour was causing the two pots of lotus flowers in the courtyard to sway pitifully.

“Minister Wen injured his hand; the wound isn’t serious. However, General Shi sustained severe injuries while protecting Minister Wen, as a rock struck his back,” the person reported in a low voice.

…

After the initial shock, Wen Yurong had just returned to the Prime Minister’s residence and hadn’t yet had a moment to breathe when he was summoned by the Prime Minister.

He hurriedly changed his clothes and rushed to the front hall. Upon entering, he suddenly halted.

The people in the front hall seemed to have heard footsteps from outside and turned around.

Wen Yurong took a moment to adjust his breathing before stepping in, “I pay my respects to Your Majesty…”

Before he could kneel, he was supported by someone.

“Don’t kneel. I heard you were injured. Where are you hurt? Is it serious?” Shen Jue helped him up, his eyes filled with concern. He scanned Wen Yurong from head to toe, finally focusing on Wen Yurong’s right hand.

There were still traces of blood that hadn’t been properly cleaned.

 

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