C150 — Kill the top Scorer (17)

Warning: the next few chapters will be extremely rough on Shen Jue. 🤧

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A few days later, Shen Jue received a confidential letter from the Imperial Inspector. In it, the inspector detailed how he deduced the age of the owner of the skeleton, concluding at the end:

The skeleton belonged to someone at least of coming-of-age.

During last year’s palace banquet, Shi Zhou had not yet turned eighteen, so the remains couldn’t be his. That left only his elder brother, Shi Ji.

Shen Jue tossed the letter into the brazier. Only when the paper was gradually devoured by flames did he look away. As expected, Shi Zhou wasn’t so easily killed. Just a few days ago, he had even shielded Wen Yurong from danger—an act that only Shi Zhou would do.

Now, killing Shi Zhou wouldn’t be easy. Not only was he more cautious now, but making a move without careful planning might provoke retaliation from the Shi family.

Yet, letting Shi Zhou remain here would lead them all back down the same path as in previous lifetimes. Judging by recent events, it seemed Wen Yurong was still hesitating between him and Shi Zhou. If Wen Yurong had truly fallen for Shi Zhou, he wouldn’t have shared intimate moments with Shen Jue in the Prime Minister’s residence just days ago, ignoring Shi Zhou’s injuries.

Of course, maybe Wen Yurong cared but wasn’t given the chance to show it. Shen Jue had made sure of that.

Shen Jue was certain that Shi Zhou would come to the Prime Minister’s residence, so he deliberately stayed overnight under some pretext, only returning to the palace late at night under Tong Meng’er’s orders.

In truth, he had no intention of actually doing anything with Wen Yurong. First, he didn’t want to—such matters were best avoided. Second, his body couldn’t withstand it. Whether he was the one on top or the one underneath, either way would be unbearable—disgusting in the former case, life-threatening in the latter.

The priority now was still dealing with Shi Zhou.

After several days of thought, Shen Jue finally found a solution.

The neighboring country, Great Wei, had launched an invasion. In past lives, Tong Meng’er had sent a different general to deal with it. Shen Jue remembered that this w-ar dragged on for a long time—two whole years. If Shi Zhou were sent instead, it would at least delay him for a few years.

That way, Shi Zhou and Wen Yurong wouldn’t have the chance to form secret ties.

Having made up his mind, Shen Jue brought the idea to Tong Meng’er. She was briefly surprised but then said, “If my dear wants Shi Ji to go, then let him go.”

“One more thing,” Shen Jue added, “Shi Ji can’t go alone. Shi Haoran must lead the army, and Shi Ji will serve as deputy general. And the women of the Shi family must remain in the capital.”

Though Tong Meng’er found it a bit strange, she didn’t question him. The next day, she issued the decree and ordered Shi Haoran and Shi Zhou to set out with the army without delay.

On the day Shi Zhou left the capital, Wen Yurong was restless and kept staring blankly at the palace walls. He had taken leave from his duties, but Shen Jue’s illness had suddenly worsened the night before, and Tong Meng’er ordered him to stay and care for him.

Although Shen Jue was feverish and dazed, he kept holding Wen Yurong’s hand. Every time Wen Yurong tried to pull away, Shen Jue’s hand would reach into the air, as if trying to grasp something.

Seeing this, Wen Yurong had no choice but to let Shen Jue hold his hand again.

By afternoon, Shen Jue was feeling slightly better. Supported by servants, he sat up in bed against soft pillows and stared fixedly at Wen Yurong.

“Thank you for taking care of me today. You can go rest now.”

“It’s nothing. Your Majesty’s health is what matters most.” Wen Yurong smiled, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Shen Jue looked at him. Shi Zhou had grown up with him. Now, still not fully recovered, he was headed to the frontier—it was hard not to worry.

Time passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, two years had gone by.

Over the past two years, Shen Jue and Wen Yurong had grown increasingly close, to the point where even the Prime Minister noticed something was off—his son was spending far too much time in the palace.

So, the Prime Minister privately confronted Wen Yurong, questioning him about his relationship with Shen Jue. Wen Yurong avoided giving a direct answer. The Prime Minister’s face darkened, his expression shifting between pale and flushed, and in the end, he could only sigh.

Sensing his father’s discomfort, Wen Yurong hesitated, then still explained, “Father, His Majesty and I haven’t done anything inappropriate. I’m just keeping him company in the palace.”

Hearing that, the Prime Minister’s expression finally eased a little. He didn’t want his most outstanding son to end up as some plaything used to seduce the emperor. But from that day on, his attitude toward Wen Yurong changed—his face turned cold every time he saw him.

After it happened several times, even Shen Jue noticed.

Worried, he looked at Wen Yurong and said, “Yulang, should I go and explain things to the Prime Minister?”

Wen Yurong shook his head. “My father already knows, and I’ve told him everything… Once he comes to terms with it, things will be fine.”

A year ago, Shen Jue had ordered Wen Yurong to stop referring to himself as “your humble servant” in front of him, and to use “I” instead.

Touched, Shen Jue gently stroked Wen Yurong’s cheek. “There are many men in the world who are fond of other men. The Prime Minister isn’t the narrow-minded type—he’s probably just afraid you’re with me because of my power and status.” After a pause, he added, “It must’ve been hard on you.”

“It’s not hard. I’m happy,” Wen Yurong replied with a smile.

For the past two years, a letter would arrive from the border each month, reporting on the wa-r situation in detail. From the contents, even with Shi Haoran leading, the war was clearly very difficult.

Occasionally, the letters would mention Shi Zhou—though in the letters, he was referred to as Shi Ji.

Shen Jue never hid the letters from Wen Yurong, so Wen Yurong was able to learn a bit about Shi Zhou’s condition from them, though not much.

Over those two years, Shen Jue tried many ways to deepen their bond, but no matter what he did, it felt like something was always in the way—like a thin veil separating them. It was like a pot of water just about to boil, but never quite bubbling over, as if the heat wasn’t quite there yet.

Only then did Shen Jue realize he might have made a mistake. He had assumed that removing Shi Zhou from the capital would make it easier to win Wen Yurong’s heart. But now, even though Wen Yurong was physically beside him, his heart was still preoccupied with Shi Zhou, far away on the battlefield.

Perhaps the connection between Wen Yurong and Shi Zhou wasn’t something that could be broken in just a few short years.

But Shen Jue didn’t have time anymore—Shi Haoran had rebelled, accusing the demon empress of corrupting the court, and the tyrant emperor of cruelty and injustice. The Shi family army joined forces with the Prince of Jinling, intending to install the prince’s legitimate grandson as the new ruler.

Although Shen Jue had been secretly monitoring the general’s mansion, the Shi family women still managed to flee in the dead of night, leaving behind only Shi Tongru and a few old servants.

Shi Tongru had served three emperors, making him nearly untouchable—but to Shen Jue’s surprise, just seven days after the rebellion began, Shi Tongru suddenly passed away. This caused a huge stir in the capital, with both officials and commoners speculating and suspecting that the palace was behind it.

Not long after, a letter titled “A Letter to My Father” was circulated from Shi Haoran’s side. The letter was filled with grief and emotion, expressing deep sorrow over his father’s death and his own helplessness. More shockingly, it revealed the true cause of Shi Ji’s death.

The letter spread like wildfire, to the point that even Shen Jue was surprised. In just two short months, the entire country of Great Wei knew about “A Letter to My Father.”

Shen Jue and Tong Meng’er had already lost much of the people’s trust. This letter only made things worse.

In the eyes of the common people, Shen Jue was the most useless and cruel emperor imaginable, while Tong Meng’er was seen as a demonic empress who used her beauty to seduce the late emperor. Both were viewed as usurpers who had stolen positions that didn’t rightfully belong to them. Compared to Shen Jue, a sickly weakling, any one of the late emperor’s sons would’ve been a better choice—yet all of them were either dead or driven mad.

People believed Shen Jue was disloyal, unfilial, and devoid of fraternal love. He couldn’t tolerate his own brothers, nor the loyal ministers who served him. He had no right to remain on the throne.

At the same time, Shi Haoran and the Prince of Jinling’s rebel forces swept through the land as if there were no opposition. Shen Jue’s army suffered defeat after defeat, losing city after city—some even surrendered without a fight.

In just five short months, the rebels reached the capital, and Shen Jue was left with no chance of winning.

…

“Mother, you must leave—go now, while the city hasn’t fallen yet,” Shen Jue said to Tong Meng’er, his expression still calm.

Tong Meng’er’s eyes were red and swollen. Upon hearing this, she nearly slapped him. “You want me to leave, but what about you?”

“I can’t leave. They won’t let me.” Shen Jue knew very well—his abdication edict still needed his personal seal. And if he fled, Shi Haoran and the others would never rest easy—they would pursue him relentlessly. Only his death or imprisonment would satisfy them.

Without him, Tong Meng’er wouldn’t pose any threat, even if she survived in hiding. No one would support an outsider woman vying for the throne.

“If I stay, then we die together.” Tong Meng’er wiped her tears with a handkerchief. “That throne was given to you by your father. What right do they have to take it away and give it to the Prince of Jinling’s grandson?”

The Prince of Jinling was the late emperor’s cousin. Technically, his grandson should have called Shen Jue Imperial Uncle.

“Mother, the empire is lost. I can no longer hold the throne. That I lived this long is already a blessing—thanks to your care. I only regret that I won’t be able to serve you in your later years. Please, Mother, promise me you’ll live in peace and take care of yourself.”

When he finished, Shen Jue knelt and gave Tong Meng’er a deep bow.

He had to bow to her—without Tong Meng’er, he would’ve died a thousand times over. Though she was only someone from the realm of illusions, she had always sincerely cared for him.

Tong Meng’er was already crying like a waterfall. She refused to leave, but Shen Jue was resolute. He picked the most loyal unit of the Imperial Guards to secretly escort her out of the palace that very night.

In his past lives, Shen Jue had never been able to protect Tong Meng’er. In this life, he wanted at least to ensure she didn’t die horribly—tortured and broken. That was the only thing he could still give her.

Once Tong Meng’er was gone, Shen Jue focused on one final goal—breaking through the boundary of his cultivation.

The night before the rebels stormed the capital, Shen Jue shared a bed with Wen Yurong, though neither of them could sleep. His abdication was now inevitable. With no army left to fight the rebels, all he could do was accept defeat.

That day, Shen Jue had abolished Shen Yongcheng’s title as Crown Prince and sent him back to the Yong Prince’s residence.

It was unclear whether Shen Yongcheng mourned the loss of his title or something else—his eyes were red. Before leaving the palace, he bowed deeply to Shen Jue.

Now, even the palace servants were fleeing, terrified the rebels would burst in and take their anger out on them.

The palace had grown eerily quiet—more lifeless than ever before.

“Yulang, the rebels will likely break in tomorrow. I don’t have much time left. But for this sickly body to last this long—it’s already enough. Tomorrow, go home with the Prime Minister,” Shen Jue said softly, his tone calm and detached, as if he were merely describing something mundane.

Wen Yurong reached out and gently took Shen Jue’s hand. “Your Majesty is blessed by the heavens—everything will be alright. I want to stay in the palace with you.”

Hearing this, Shen Jue turned his gaze toward him, his eyes gradually growing deeper. “Yulang, in truth, I have no real attachment to this world. The only thing I can’t let go of… is you. Will you go down with me?”

His words were clear—Shen Jue was asking if Wen Yurong was willing to die with him. If he agreed, Shen Jue could break through the boundary tonight.

But Wen Yurong looked at him for a long moment before replying softly, “Your Majesty will be fine. General Shi… he is not a cruel man. He won’t take your life. As long as the green hills remain, there’ll always be wood to burn.”

He refused.

Shen Jue turned his face away, staring at the flickering candlelight on the table. “Yes, you’re right.”

Silence fell between them.

The next day was overcast. Shen Jue rose early—for the last time, he would attend morning court.

There were no longer any servants heralding his presence. Only Wen Yurong followed behind.

Seated on the dragon throne, Shen Jue looked out at the silent crowd of officials. His eyes were calm.

“I have reigned for eighteen years, all thanks to the blessings of my ancestors. Now that the tides have turned, I am but a trapped beast—resistance is futile. Truthfully, I can’t even remember some of your faces. I am no wise ruler, so you need not grieve. After today, follow your new sovereign loyally, and continue serving as pillars of the state.”

With that, Shen Jue stood up. He looked out past the marble steps of the palace, straightened his back, and shouted—

“Court dismissed!”

The officials remained kneeling in silence. Only after some time did they begin to trickle out. The last to leave was the Prime Minister. Looking at Wen Yurong standing behind Shen Jue, he asked, “Yueze, will you come with your father?”

Wen Yurong gave a soft smile. “Father, I wish to stay and accompany His Majesty.”

The Prime Minister nodded. “Very well. Then take good care of His Majesty.” He turned his gaze toward Shen Jue on the throne. “Your Majesty, this old minister takes his leave.”

Shen Jue gave him a small smile. “Farewell, Prime Minister.”

The Prime Minister stepped out of the palace and instinctively looked up at the sky. Thick clouds loomed low over the city, threatening rain at any moment.

He let out a deep sigh and left, hunched over.

Shen Jue surrendered. He ordered the city gates opened, allowing the rebels in to avoid further bloodshed. Ministers should have stood with their emperor until the very end—but in the end, they all left.

The Prime Minister had always looked down on Shen Jue. Yet in this final moment, he finally realized—Shen Jue was, indeed, an emperor.

…

The rebel army entered the city quickly. Shen Jue remained on the dragon throne, waiting. Before noon, Shi Zhou arrived.

He led the vanguard and thus was the first into the palace.

Shi Zhou had restored his original appearance. Compared to his elder brother Shi Ji, he was even more handsome—but Shen Jue had no mood to admire him.

Sword in hand, Shi Zhou walked into the hall step by step. When he saw Shen Jue on the throne and Wen Yurong behind him, a cold smile flickered across his face.

“Surprised to see me, Your Majesty?” Shi Zhou’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Brother Yurong, you’re still standing beside this sickly emperor. Does he even know why you entered the palace in the first place?”

Before Wen Yurong could speak, Shen Jue cut in.

“Shi Zhou, if you’re going to kill me, then do it. What’s the point of all this talk?” He looked down at Shi Zhou coldly.

Shi Zhou let out a low chuckle. “Kill you? Oh, I will. But first, tell me—was my brother killed by you and that woman Tong?”

“Yes,” Shen Jue admitted. “Only… I should have killed you. Got the wrong one.”

Wen Yurong, hearing this, couldn’t help turning sharply to look at Shen Jue.

Shen Jue seemed not to notice Wen Yurong’s gaze and only looked at Shi Zhou below.

When Shi Zhou heard this, he clenched his sword even tighter, his eyes gradually becoming crazy, “Why do you want to kill me? How has our Shi family ever wronged you?”

“Why should I tell you?” Shen Jue smiled back, “You will never know in this life.”

Hearing this, Shi Zhou turned to look at Wen Yurong, “Brother Yurong, I’ll give you one last chance. Kill him and come to me now. I can pretend that nothing happened between us.”

Wen Yurong’s eyelashes trembled slightly, and his eyes were complicated. After a long time, he spoke with difficulty, his voice bitter, “Xiao Zhou, I won’t kill him. You have already won, he surrendered, can you let him go?”

“Not good!” Shi Zhou raised the left corner of his lips and smiled coldly, “If you want me to let him go, my brother must come back alive. Brother Yurong, do you remember what I said two years ago? I said that one day, I will make you cry and beg me.”

Wen Yurong frowned and could only advise: “Xiao Zhou, that’s all in the past. Now…”

“Don’t mention it now. You are not qualified to forgive him for me, and I have not forgiven you either.” Shi Zhou interrupted Wen Yurong rudely, then he turned to the soldiers behind him and said, “All of you retreat fifty steps outside the hall, and no one is allowed to come in!”

“Yes, Major General!” Upon hearing the order, the soldiers retreated from the hall one after another and closed the door.

Wen Yurong’s expression changed slightly when she saw this. “Xiao Zhou, what are you going to do?”

“What to do? You will know soon.” Shi Zhou tilted his head and walked towards the Golden Palace step by step. He stopped only when he reached Shen Jue.

Wen Yurong saw that the situation wasn’t right, and immediately stood in front of Shen Jue, staring at Shi Zhou, “Xiao Zhou, can you let him go? He has nothing left, he won’t fight anymore, he knows he’s wrong.”

Shi Zhou raised his eyelids slightly and said, “I see that he doesn’t know what he did wrong.” After he finished speaking, he directly pressed Wen Yurong’s acupoints, then carried him to the position where Tong Meng’er used to sit, and then returned to Shen Jue.

Although Wen Yurong couldn’t move, he could speak. When he saw Shi Zhou walking over, he felt a little uneasy.

“Xiao Zhou, don’t be impulsive, Xiao Zhou!”

Shi Zhou stood in front of Shen Jue, looking down at him with cold eyes, “Your Majesty, aren’t you afraid?”

Shen Jue didn’t look at him, but just stared straight ahead, “Why should I be afraid of you? You are just a young boy, you are nothing to be afraid of.”

“Not afraid? What a great statement.” Shi Zhou lowered his head and gave a sinister smile into Shen Jue’s ear, “I hope Your Majesty can still say this later.”

He suddenly grabbed Shen Jue’s hand and pulled out the dagger hidden in the other’s hand. Shi Zhou looked at the dagger and placed the sword in his hand on the table in front of Shen Jue.

Shen Jue frowned, but before he could say anything, Shi Zhou used a dagger to pry open his belt.

The dagger was extremely sharp and could cut through iron like mud.

“Your Majesty is the best at seducing men, right? You look like you’re dying when there’s no man to hold you. So today I will serve you, Your Majesty. I hope you can bear it.”

Shi Zhou said with a low laugh, but there was no smile in his eyes.

There was suddenly thunder outside, and it seemed like it was going to rain.

Shen Jue’s eyes changed when he heard this, “You!”

Shi Zhou approached the dragon throne. Although it was wide, with two people squeezed on it, there was almost no space.

“Your Majesty has lived a life of luxury and has a good body. I have fought in the frontiers for many years. The women in the frontiers are not as tender as your Majesty, let alone the men. I am pitiful and have never had se-x. Today, I will have s-ex with your Majesty.”

After saying this, Shi Zhou pulled Shen Jue’s belt off to the ground.

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TN:

And to think I felt sorry about his fate 😐, SJ should make his death painful 😮‍💨