Chapter 118: The Bathroom

Chapter 118: The Bathing Chamber

Jiang Xun's gaze swept across the screen.

This exchange between emperor and minister contained a lengthy dialogue. Following the script's requirements, he paced barefoot to Shen Que's side and tapped his chin with a fingertip: "Since Master Cunxi dares to present this matter now, I presume you are prepared to bear all consequences."

Shen Que, styled as Master Cunxi, was a man of considerable literary renown, leaving behind hundreds of poems and essays that have survived through generations. Several were selected for textbooks and supplementary readings. Every time the literature teacher explained his works, they would carefully write his style name on the blackboard with chalk.

The teacher would introduce his life, his achievements, his disabilities and illnesses, while Jiang Xun sat among the students, listening to the scritch-scratch of chalk on slate. His classmates bent over their desks, diligently taking notes. None of them knew that the Jiang Xun sitting beside them had once intimately known Shen Cunxi.

Jiang Xun had entered this man's body.

On the imperial bed, in the hot springs, in the imperial gardens, in countless places...

After being reborn twice, seeing this name on the screen left Jiang Xun momentarily dazed. Biting his tongue, he silently repeated: "Shen Cunxi..."

When Jiang Xun studied alongside his elder brothers, they, out of respect, had also addressed Shen Que as "Master Cunxi."

But Jiang Xun had never used it.

He was too insignificant, lost among the masses, his status far beneath that of the illustrious princes. The princes competed for Shen Que's attention, seeking his guidance on their studies, leaving no room for Jiang Xun to approach.

He only called Shen Que by that name in bed, pulling apart his weak legs and murmuring over and over in his ear, "Master Cunxi—"

Every time he heard this address, Shen Que's legs would spasm. He would bite down unconsciously, suppressing muffled whimpers in his throat, his forehead drenched in cold sweat that soaked his long hair. His eyes would either squeeze shut or turn away, refusing to look at Jiang Xun.

Too much time had passed. Recalling those moments now, Jiang Xun supposed he had taken pleasure in it—whether physical or the thrill of conquest, it had brought him joy. But now, he remembered none of it.

The seven days following his death had been too harrowing, obliterating all traces of love and hatred within this body. When Shen Cunxi was mentioned now, Jiang Xun's only thought was: "His legs must not come to harm."

As for the rest, Jiang Xun did not care.

So after delivering his next line, he didn't hesitate for a moment. Barefoot, he walked past Shen Que and continued reciting: "Since you know the consequences, follow me."

His tone was too indifferent—neither teasing nor mocking, as calm as if speaking to a stranger.

Shen Que paused: "...Yes."

The two walked around the screen and entered the side chamber.

Within the bathing chamber was a private bathing pool large enough for several people to bathe together.

The Great Wei palace was built against a mountain, channeling natural hot spring water into the imperial grounds. Behind the emperor's bedchamber lay a private bathing pool, its waters ceaselessly flowing. Steam rose in the bathing chamber, filling the air with mist.

Jiang Xun removed his outer robe and stepped naked into the water, then leaned against the stone wall, closing his eyes in silence.

The emperor's body was slender, his features refined. With his eyes shut, his eyelids lowered like dark lashes, veiling his usual tyrannical demeanor. His sickly pallor became more apparent, and sitting alone in the water, he appeared strangely lonely.

Shen Que stood at the edge, at a loss for what to do.

If he were a palace attendant, he would pick up a silk cloth to massage and bathe the emperor. If he were a concubine, he would undress and join him in the bath. But...

He was neither an attendant nor a concubine.

At this moment, 66 prodded Jiang Xun with a pointed tip: "Host, you can't leave Shen Que standing there. You need physical contact with him—oh, and there are lines too."

The original text used the phrase "lewd play." 66 roughly understood that physical contact was required, but none of the previous hosts had actually acted it out, so it wasn't entirely sure what kind of contact counted as "lewd play." It could only rely on the host's sexual experience.

Jiang Xun glanced at the screen and delivered his next line: "Master Cunxi, you know the protocol for assisting the emperor during his bath, don't you?"

The voice dissipated in the mist, ethereal and drifting.

Shen Que exhaled slightly in relief. "I understand, Your Majesty."

This was far better than he'd feared.

Jiang Xun had a notorious reputation—young yet already branded as a dissolute ruler and an indulgent monarch. He had established the Leopard Room in the palace, carousing with his two cousins. Though Shen Que did not pry into palace rumors, he had heard whispers.

The Emperor was known for his merciless methods and a predilection for male companionship.

Merely serving him in the bath, without further expectations, was already a relief.

So he took the silk cloth and knelt by the pool's edge.

The bathing pool was lined with carved stone slabs, their intricate patterns digging mercilessly into his knees. The moment his knees touched the ground, Shen Que's brows twitched, but he suppressed any reaction.

An imperial bath typically lasted an hour. Kneeling on such a surface for that long would likely leave him bedridden for days.

And if the Emperor chose to prolong it, he could soak for even longer.

But this was not Shen Que's decision to make. He merely adjusted his knees slightly, draped the cloth over the Emperor's shoulders, and began to wipe gently.

Jiang Xun had been distantly preoccupied, but the touch brought him back to the present.

Shen Que, renowned for his literary genius from a young age, had clearly never served anyone before. His movements were clumsy and hesitant—sometimes too rough, sometimes too light. The Emperor's bare neck was right before him, water droplets clinging to his hair before rolling down the contours of his body. True to his upbringing, Shen Que kept his gaze lowered, relying solely on touch.

The repeated brush of his calloused fingertips against Jiang Xun's back raised goosebumps across the Emperor's skin.

Jiang Xun frowned.

It felt... strange, thought Jiang Xun.

In his past life, he had grown accustomed to Shen Que's care. At first, Shen Que had been just as inexperienced, until Chief Eunuch Wang An volunteered to teach him—though by what means, Jiang Xun never knew. But now, the unfamiliar sensation crawling up his spine made him deeply uncomfortable.

He turned his head, about to tell Shen Que to stop and reconsider how to fulfill the licentious scenario, when his gaze caught on Shen Que's knees—and paused.

Those legs trembled violently.

Shen Que's expression remained calm, his upper body steady, but his legs shook uncontrollably—a physiological reaction betraying muscles strained beyond endurance.

Those knees had endured enough for one day.

Jiang Xun frowned and reached out, seizing Shen Que's wrist.

Shen Que froze, still clutching the damp cloth in midair. "Your Majesty?"

Jiang Xun lowered his eyes. "Stand up."

"...Your Majesty?"

"...Get up."

After a moment's hesitation, Shen Que rose. Now standing, he towered over Jiang Xun in the pool, making it impossible to reach the Emperor's back. Clutching the cloth, he stood uncertainly.

As the two remained locked in silence, 66 emerged from the water.

Unfazed by the liquid as an electronic device, the system called 66 floated cheerfully in the hot spring, thoroughly enjoying its bath.

66 adored its current host. Jiang Xun was even-tempered—unlike those terrifying figures Bai or Xiao, the indolent Xie, or the deceitful Lin Mou. He meticulously studied every line, more meticulous than even the system itself.

With such a host, even 66 was ready to slack off.

Apart from seeming to have some mental quirks, it doesn’t appear to be a big deal?

So, 66 was comfortably soaking its circuits in the hot spring when it heard its host tell Shen Que to stand up.

66 was shocked, lost its balance for a moment, and water seeped into its connectors, letting out two bubbly glugs.

"...?"

It drifted over to Jiang Xun’s side. The young emperor, raised in the depths of the palace and rarely exposed to sunlight, had skin unnaturally pale. Even after soaking in the hot spring, which had tinted his body a faint pink, he still lacked vitality.

66 bumped against his shoulder: "Host?"

Jiang Xun’s fingers loosely cradled it. The emperor’s body temperature was naturally low, and with his fingers damp from the water, the evaporating moisture made them especially cool. His wet bangs clung to his cheeks, obscuring his eyes, making it hard for 66 to see his expression.

Jiang Xun: "Sorry, this might be a minor breach, but Shen Que can’t kneel. His knees are bad."

66 sort of understood: "...Oh."

Though it wasn’t quite right, the host had apologized.

So it drifted off.

Once submerged again, 66 reminded him: "Host, the 'indecent acts' meter is only at 25%."

Rubbing someone’s back—how is that indecent? Even bros can scrub each other’s backs. Such common activities just don’t level up the meter fast.

Jiang Xun did the math in his head.

At this rate, Shen Que’s legs would be wrecked before the meter was full.

He needed a different angle.

So he closed his eyes: "Cunxi, standing alone on the shore is so dull. Come down and bathe with me."

Shen Que caught his breath.

He thought, *As expected*, and raised his hand to undo the buttons one by one.

He had prepared for this when he came, so it wasn’t too humiliating now.

The steam in the bathhouse had already dampened most of Shen Que’s official robes, the broad sleeves and robes plastered haphazardly to his body, his proper look all messed up.

He removed his jade belt, outer robe, middle garment, then the inner robe, trousers, and socks, before stepping stark naked, barefoot into the hot spring.

Hearing the splash, Jiang Xun looked up, his gaze settling on Shen Que’s legs.

His knees, having knelt for so long, were swollen and ringed with red. But below, his calves were toned and perfectly shaped, the muscles not wasted away.

Damn fine.

Shen Que lowered his head, also looking at his legs.

He knew the emperor was watching him.

Jiang Xun seemed particularly fond of these legs—he had kept stealing looks at them several times in the hall earlier, and now he was staring again, as if admiring them.

But then, Jiang Xun looked away.

He was soaking in the water with Shen Que, but his thoughts kept drifting to the drought in the two lakes.

Jiang Xun's rule happened to fall during the Little Ice Age, where temperatures plummeted and the climate swung wildly between floods and droughts. In recent years, the drought in the two lakes had been the most severe.

In later generations, people built reservoirs and studied dams and bridges through water conservancy projects, reducing the disasters' damage by half. Jiang Xun had once traveled extensively, examining these structures, wondering if fewer people would have suffered had such things existed in his time.

Now that he had returned here, Jiang Xun ran through all the water projects in his mind, assessing which could be replicated with the current technological level and which could not.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, he barely noticed his teacher settling beside him. But then...

A pair of legs came into contact with his.

Shen Que lowered his gaze, his body turned a soft, even pink from the hot spring. His legs nudged Jiang Xun cautiously, like a tentative plea.

"Your Majesty," the Imperial Tutor fought against the odd tingling, his entire body reddening and toes curling, yet he still spoke with dignified admonishment, "I have something to say. Would Your Majesty hear me out?"

He adjusted his posture slightly, moving even closer, his legs practically served up like an offering into Jiang Xun’s hands.

Even after living a second life, Jiang Xun couldn't hide his shock.

"...?"

Shen Que closed his eyes, avoiding his gaze. "Your Majesty, the grasslands have suffered a severe drought this year. The Northern Di's herds have been decimated and cannot sustain themselves. I believe they may come raiding south."

Seeing that Jiang Xun didn’t interrupt, he continued, his tone still calm and measured, even though his fingers trembled with discomfort. His reasoning remained meticulous.

"Your Majesty, if the Northern Di march south, there are only two key defensive points—one guarded by Marquis Zhenbei at Hejian, the other at Yanzhou. Hejian is the closer route, ideal for a direct invasion. Marquis Zhenbei has commanded his troops for a long time, and the army’s loyalty is firm. If we rashly execute his entire family now, the Zhenbei Army may mutiny. As the main force in the north, their rebellion would leave the other armies unable to reinforce in time, leaving the northern frontier defenseless. Should the Northern Di advance unchecked, it could endanger the empire’s very foundation."

Jiang Xun: "..."

Shen Que had said the same in their past life, but back then, he had knelt in the hall, holding his jade tablet and bowing solemnly. Jiang Xun, who despised his aloof scholar demeanor, hadn’t wanted to hear a single word and had cut him off immediately.

But now, having returned from the future, Jiang Xun knew every word he spoke was correct.

Each point struck true.

But...

—But right now, the two of them were huddled in a bathhouse, loofah touching loofah, leg hair brushing leg hair. Wasn't discussing the empire’s fate in such a setting kind of... ridiculous?