Chapter 131: Stunned

Chapter 131 Dumbstruck

Shen Xiu had just woken up, yet his grip was unnaturally strong, nearly ripping off a piece of his uncle's sleeve.

Shen Que frowned slightly, "What is it?"

Shen Xiu clung to him, "[coughing] Just now, Mr. Xun was taking my pulse, and I—I saw his face beneath the veil!"

Shen Que: "Indeed."

He sat down by the bed, picked up the purple clay teapot, and poured a cup of tea. "You saw it. So what?"

Shen Xiu: "[sputtering] I—I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me... Good heavens, Uncle, do you know who he is? He, he, he—!"

As he spoke, his hands began to tremble.

Shen Que lifted the teacup, skimming off the foam with the lid. "I see. Who is he?"

Shen Xiu: "You may think I’m seeing things, but I’m absolutely certain—I checked twice... His face is the Emperor’s!"

His thoughts were in disarray, and his motor mouth took over as he rambled on, oblivious to his surroundings. "At first, I thought it was just my dizziness playing tricks on me. After all, given Mr. Xun’s abilities, he’s as different as heaven and earth from the one in the palace... But—but that face was unmistakable! I secretly peeked several times, and then I remembered how Mr. Xun stopped me before, saying everything back then was his doing, and that uncanny control over the court... I’d bet my life—he’s the Emperor!"

After finishing, he stared at Shen Que, awaiting his uncle’s judgment.

Would he believe him, question him, or react in some other way?

Shen Que took a sip of tea. "Oh."

He said indifferently, "If you keep spouting nonsense about 'as different as heaven and earth,' I’ll report to His Majesty and have you flogged again."

"..."

Shen Xiu clutched his sleeve, repeating in disbelief, "I said—Mr. Xun is the Emperor!"

Shen Que yanked his sleeve back from his idiot nephew’s death grip, patted it twice, and said disdainfully, "Now that you know. His Majesty has his reasons for hiding his identity. Since he doesn’t want to be exposed, you’d better pretend you don’t know—including keeping it from Xue Jin."

"..."

Shen Xiu stared blankly at Shen Que. Still groggy from his illness, he only managed a suspicious, "Huh?"

Shen Que: "This stays between heaven, earth, you, and me. Not another word about it."

With that, Shen Que set down his teacup. "We’re shorthanded now that you’re awake. Rest for two more days, then get back to work."

Shen Xiu continued to gaze at him dumbly. "...Oh."

He looked like a gaping fish, dazed and bewildered. Only when Shen Que turned to leave did Shen Xiu suddenly thrash about. "So—you already knew! He really is—!"

At this point, Shen Xiu abruptly stopped.

Shen Que had already lifted the hem of his robe and stepped over the threshold, just giving a curt nod. "He is."

Shen Xiu: "..."

With a dramatic thud, he fell back onto the bed.

When Shen Xiu was ill, his room had been lively—doctors and maids in constant motion, rolling him over and changing his clothes, with people frequently checking on him by his bedside. Shen Que came daily to assess his condition, and Xue Jin often visited as well.

But once he turned the corner, the maids had less to do, and they no longer needed to come and go so often. Meanwhile, Shen Que was swamped with documents, and Xue Jin was tied up with army business. Both of them forgot about Shen Xiu, each lost in their own world.

Thus, Shen Xiu became the unlucky child no one cared about. After his illness, he seemed fever-addled, occasionally staring blankly at the ceiling, muttering incoherently, looking as neglected as wild grass—pitiful indeed.

Jiang Xun noticed this and feared the illness might impair Shen Xiu’s future as an imperial censor or hinder his ability to wield a memorial tablet in the imperial hall. So, he visited daily to check on him.

Unaware that Shen Xiu had already seen his face beneath the veiled hat, Jiang Xun kept the white gauze tightly fastened. When he stepped into the courtyard and placed his medicine box by the bedside, Shen Xiu jerked up like a spooked rabbit, shooting upright from the bed.

Jiang Xun frowned. "You should rest while recovering from illness. Don’t strain yourself."

"…"

Jiang Xun sat down. "I’m here for a follow-up. Give me your hand."

Shen Xiu shrank back like a quail, timidly extending his hand and placing it on the pulse pillow Jiang Xun had set out.

The moment Jiang Xun pressed down, he exclaimed, "Your heartbeat is very fast."

While no trained doctor, Jiang Xun knew enough to play the part convincingly. At the very least, he could discern basic heart rate abnormalities.

At present, Shen Xiu’s pulse was racing wildly. Though lying still, his heart pounded as if he had just run 800 meters—ba-dump, ba-dump.

Jiang Xun eyed him suspiciously. Shen Xiu’s face was flushed red, his blood pressure practically through the roof.

Jiang Xun frowned. "66, are you sure there are no aftereffects? He doesn’t seem normal."

66 sounded equally baffled. "Yeah, racing heart, high blood pressure, extreme sympathetic nervous excitement… but I can’t find anything wrong?"

It prodded its host. "Keep taking his pulse a bit longer. Let me check more carefully."

Jiang Xun put on a thoughtful face and continued feeling the pulse.

Amid the shared bewilderment of 66 and Jiang Xun, Shen Xiu’s heartbeat grew faster and faster, his blood pressure higher and higher, teetering on the edge of passing out…

66’s small screen displayed massive confusion. "This is really strange."

Just before Shen Xiu suffocated, Jiang Xun withdrew his hand.

Attempting to ease the tension, Jiang Xun remarked, "I’ve heard about your achievements in the Two Lakes region. Impressive."

Shen Xiu let out a strained laugh. "Th-that was all thanks to your guidance, sir."

Jiang Xun added, "I’ve also tasted the peaches from Two Lakes. This year’s crop is particularly sweet."

Shen Xiu continued his awkward laughter.

Jiang Xun stowed the pulse pillow and casually chatted with Shen Xiu. "In your letter, you mentioned building a dam in the valley between two mountains to conserve water and soil. How exactly did you do it? How high was the dam?"

Though Jiang Xun had studied such knowledge in books, bridging theory and practice was no easy task. That Shen Xiu had managed it in just a few months was testament to his talent.

At the mention of work, Shen Xiu perked up somewhat.

He explained in detail—from site selection to experiments to results. When excited, his voice rose, verging on disrespect. But the moment he realized his overstep, he softened his tone, sneaking glances at Jiang Xun from the corner of his eye. Seeing the emperor remain unfazed and calmly engaged, Shen Xiu grew cheerful again.

This cycle repeated throughout the afternoon. By the end, Jiang Xun had a clear grasp of the current situation in Two Lakes, and Shen Xiu had become somewhat more at ease around him.

Though he knew the person beneath the white gauze was the emperor, as long as Jiang Xun spoke softly under the veiled hat and discussed the details of Two Lakes affairs with him, he could still treat him as Mr. Xun… right?

Shen Xiu convinced himself.

And so, as they talked, his blood pressure and heartbeat finally returned to normal, and the tension between them eased significantly.

But such peaceful days didn’t last long—Shen Xiu could no longer keep lying around.

The war situation grew increasingly tense, with everyone rushing around. Shen Que’s documents piled up endlessly, and Xue Jin hadn’t returned home to sleep for several days. Everyone knew the decisive moment was near.

The war had dragged on too long. The Northern Di were accustomed to blitzkrieg tactics, yet Qingping Pass remained unconquered. Their food supplies were already running short, and the grasslands had suffered disasters this year—countless livestock had perished. Retreating would leave them with no provisions. Their only hope was to gather the full strength of their people and launch an all-out assault on Qingping Pass.

That day, as they discussed matters as usual, Jiang Xun, who knew nothing of military strategy, just listened in. But as the conversation continued, Shen Que suddenly said, “Xue Jin, before the battle erupts, see Mr. Xun back to the capital.”

Jiang Xun was taken aback.

Shen Que continued, “The plague’s mostly cleared up now. Most of the injuries in camp will be from sword and arrow wounds, and Mr. Xun isn’t skilled in treating those.”

Jiang Xun’s medical knowledge relied entirely on 66—he truly had no expertise in treating wounds.

Shen Que added, “At this point, all necessary preparations are complete. Logistics and supplies are fully arranged. The rest depends entirely on Junior General Xue. Keeping Mr. Xun in the city would only put him at needless risk.”

Shen Xiu glanced at his uncle, then at Jiang Xun. He thought to himself that once the battle erupted, the city would be engulfed in chaos, with arrows and flames everywhere. If anything happened to the Emperor in Qingping Pass, chopping off his and Xue Jin’s heads wouldn’t make up for it.

He quickly raised his hand in agreement. “I agree!”

Xue Jin, confused, said, “Actually, we’ve got this battle in the bag. You could just stay in Marquis Zhenbei's residence, carry on as usual—it wouldn’t take long… Ow!”

Shen Xiu had stomped hard on his foot.

The Junior General was clueless. He was the only one among the three unaware of Jiang Xun’s identity and didn’t understand why Shen Que insisted on sending him away. Still, he reluctantly agreed, “…Well, the battle won’t last much longer anyway. There’s nothing to worry about. Mr. Shen is a key advisor, and Mr. Xun has been burning the candle at both ends. It would be good for you to return to the capital soon. Shall I send a guard detail for you?”

By “you,” he meant Shen Que, Shen Xiu, and Jiang Xun.

Shen Xiu kicked him again.

Shen Que only wanted to send Jiang Xun back, but Xue Jin insisted on including all three of them.

Jiang Xun thought it over.

Xue Jin was level-headed, unlike the impulsive Shen Xiu. If he said the battle was under control, it was almost certain. They’d just be in the way here.

So he nodded in agreement.

But at this point, it would be awkward to insist on sending only Jiang Xun back, so Shen Que had no choice but to comply.

That night, they shared a parting drink at the pass.

Jiang Xun just sipped, drinking little. Xue Jin tried to urge him to drink more, but Shen Xiu clung to him desperately, refusing to let go.

Shen Xiu whispered sharply into the Junior General’s ear, “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Behave!”

Xue Jin grumbled. “I just wanted to offer a toast…”

Wasn’t this how farewells always went?

Meanwhile, Jiang Xun leaned against the city wall, gazing out from Qingping Pass. The vast sky stretched over the northern desert, the North Star shone bright, and the mountains rolled endlessly into the shadowy distance. Beneath him, this towering fortress had stood for millennia. In his past life, it was here that the breach had opened, becoming the starting point of fifty years of tragedy.

Jiang Xun’s chest tightened. He turned to look at the Junior General. Xue Jin stood with Shen Xiu and Shen Que—this future Emperor, in the prime of his life, was surrounded by his two most trusted ministers, like stars around the polestar.

This lifetime had already changed so much. The tragedies of the past would not repeat.

So before Xue Jin could urge him, Jiang Xun raised his cup and drank it all in one go.

The wine was the strong liquor commonly used on the frontier. The harsh conditions of military life demanded spirits that could ward off the cold. What Xue Jin had brought was called “Burning Blade”—high in alcohol content, intensely potent, burning like fire and razors with every sip, hence its name.

Jiang Xun took a sip and broke into a coughing fit.

"......"

Thus, the "constellation surrounding the Pole Star" in Jiang Xun's eyes began glaring at the "Pole Star."

Shen Que gave Xue Jin a cold look without saying a word, while Shen Xiu punched him and scolded, "Idiot Xue Jin, you're just asking for death!"

They caused quite a commotion at the pass. Jiang Xun was hazy from drink and couldn't remember much, only staggering weakly back to the Marquis's residence, washing up, and going to bed.

That night, for the first time in ages, he didn’t dream of those seven days after his death.

The next day, a carriage departed from the Marquis's residence, carrying Jiang Xun and the other two back to the capital.

Jiang Xun was nursing a hangover and had a slight headache. After adjusting his veiled hat, he boarded the carriage.

Both Shen Xiu and Shen Que were present. Strangely, Shen Que sat on the far left of the cushion, while Shen Xiu sat on the far right. The two relatives didn’t sit together but left the middle seat for Jiang Xun.

Jiang Xun thought it strange but didn’t dwell on it, taking his seat between them.

The coachman snapped the reins, and the carriage jolted into motion. The journey was bumpy, and after making small talk with the other two, Jiang Xun was about to doze off.

Leaving Qingping Pass felt like lifting a heavy burden from his mind. His limbs felt weak, and both physical and mental exhaustion washed over him. Jiang Xun was on the verge of falling asleep.

But sitting in the middle, he had nowhere to lean.

Jiang Xun fought to keep his eyes open.

Unnoticed by him, Shen Que inched his shoulder closer.

The Emperor, wearing his veiled hat, kept bobbing his head—clearly exhausted and in desperate need of rest.

It was the perfect angle. If Jiang Xun tilted his head unconsciously, he could rest it on the Imperial Tutor's shoulder.

Yet Jiang Xun doggedly resisted for nearly half an hour, listing from side to side but refusing to lean.

When sleep became unavoidable, Jiang Xun tilted his hat, hesitated for a moment, and quietly asked Shen Xiu, "May I lean on you to sleep?"

Between Shen Que and Shen Xiu, as Mr. Xun, it was naturally more appropriate to lean on Shen Xiu.

Shen Xiu was technically his junior, and they had corresponded so frequently that they were quite familiar. Shen Que, however, was the Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion and the current Imperial Tutor. Though Jiang Xun was accustomed to clinging to him, under the guise of Mr. Xun, he hesitated—even afraid to touch him.

Leaning on him seemed too forward.

The Emperor's image was already bad enough in Shen Que's eyes. Jiang Xun, past caring about his flaws, wasn’t afraid of making it worse. But Mr. Xun had gotten along well with Shen Que and even earned his favor. Subconsciously, Jiang Xun wanted to preserve that impression and avoid being overly impolite.

As for Shen Xiu—well, it didn’t matter.

Shen Xiu: "Huh?"

His mouth formed an "O."

—Uncle is right beside you, and you’re asking *me*?

Jiang Xun: "May I?"

Could Shen Xiu refuse? He could only nod vigorously. "Yes, yes, go ahead."

So Jiang Xun closed his eyes and sank wearily against him.

"......"

Steeling himself, Shen Xiu looked up and locked eyes with Shen Que's frosty glare.