Chapter 132: The Grasshopper

Chapter 132 Locust

Shen Xiu gaped helplessly.

The Emperor was asleep, and Shen Xiu dared not speak, so he mouthed silently: "Uncle? Uncle Shen? Should I move him to you, or do you want to come here?"

Shen Que looked away. "No need. Let him rest."

The carriage continued to jolt, and Jiang Xun’s mind was foggy.

He slept fitfully. Shen Xiu had sloping shoulders, and after two years of farming in the mountains, leaning on him felt like resting on bare bones—kept slipping down. His neck kept tilting, causing him to sway unsteadily.

Shen Que kept glancing at him.

He wanted the Emperor to rest better but didn’t want to startle him by shifting suddenly. So, he merely adjusted his shoulder slightly, only to watch Jiang Xun tilt further and further—until, just as he was about to lean against him—

He jerked awake.

Jiang Xun was subconsciously afraid of overstepping in his sleep and annoying others, so the moment they made contact, he woke up.

Still groggy, the Emperor adjusted his veiled hat in confusion, smoothing the white gauze back into place before shifting his posture to lean against Shen Xiu again.

"..."

Shen Xiu: "Hey, hey, hey!"

Compared to the mild-tempered Emperor's displeasure, his uncle’s temper was way scarier.

After all, if he got sent back to farm in the boonies, the Emperor wouldn't bother him. But if his uncle decided to make him kneel in the ancestral hall, it would be just one word from him.

Shen Xiu pleaded with Jiang Xun: "Mr. Xun, my... my shoulder is a bit numb. Could you lean the other way?"

Jiang Xun: "...Oh."

He didn’t answer but stood up unsteadily, gesturing for Shen Xiu to move to the center.

Shen Xiu: "?"

Unable to defy the Emperor, he shifted aside, and Jiang Xun took his original seat.

Then, they watched as Jiang Xun adjusted his veiled hat and leaned against the carriage wall to sleep.

This carriage was of the highest standard used by Marquis Zhenbei for travel, with the walls padded with cotton for comfort.

—And so, the Emperor fell asleep in this position.

"..."

The carriage fell silent.

*

After three days of jolting travel, the group arrived in the capital.

Jiang Xun had the coachman drop him off at the loquat courtyard before returning to the imperial palace.

The chief eunuch, Wang An, had been on edge waiting. He scrutinized the Emperor from head to toe, confirming he was unharmed, then hurriedly ordered the bathing pool to be filled and fresh robes prepared for Jiang Xun to change into.

Jiang Xun removed his outer garment—made of common fabric, far less refined than the luxurious materials of the palace. Having grown accustomed to finer clothing, he found it slightly uncomfortable. Wang An took the outer robe, bowing deeply. "Would Your Majesty like to summon Lord Shen as well?"

Jiang Xun paused. "What?"

Wang An: "Lord Shen? Should we summon him too?"

Only then did Jiang Xun realize what he meant and shook his head. "No."

After a pause, he added, "And don’t summon him again."

Jiang Xun had summoned Shen Que for Task 66’s sake, but now, there was no longer any task for him.

At this historical juncture, the Northern Di were about to break through Qingping Pass and march straight for the capital. The palace gates would be overrun, and the short, absurd reign of the Deposed Emperor of Wei would come to an end. Jiang Xun no longer needed to follow the script.

He dismissed the attendants and stepped into the hot spring. Task 66 floated cheerfully in the water, bubbles rising from its interface as it flipped through the plot. "Hey, Su Zhu, we’re almost done. Next up: palace fire, your death, then Xue Jin takes the throne—simple as that."

By Jiang Xun’s time, the imperial family had died out. The only general with significant military power was Xue Jin, making his ascension a foregone conclusion.

Jiang Xun: "Does it say which palace has to burn?"

66: "Not really, just the Emperor’s quarters."

Generally, the Emperor’s quarters referred to the Palace of Heavenly Purity.

Jiang Xun pondered for a moment. "I see."

The system swam over, curious. "In the previous life, it was the Palace of Heavenly Purity that burned. This time, you’re not planning to burn it?"

Jiang Xun: "Nah. Burning the Palace of Heavenly Purity would mean executing all the servants. Wang An’s getting up there, and there are tons of servants—no point dragging them into this. It’s better to find an uninhabited place. Besides, the palace is quite beautiful. Rebuilding would drain resources and empty the treasury, which is already strained from post-war reconstruction. It’s better to leave it as it is."

66: "So where do you wanna go, Su Zhu?"

Jiang Xun thought briefly. "The Palace of Dew. That’s where I was born."

The Palace of Dew was a tiny courtyard in the back of the palace—not the Cold Palace, but pretty damn close. The Emperor hadn’t set foot there in decades.

As a child, Jiang Xun had loved it there. Even though he was always hungry, slept like crap, and froze in winter, the little courtyard was overgrown with wild grass and flowers, untended by anyone. His mom would pick them to make grasshopper toys for him. Later, when he moved into the prince’s residence and then became Emperor, every plant in the palace was meticulously trimmed, leaving no trace of wild grass—and no grasshoppers to be found.

But as he got older, he realized what the Palace of Dew meant: shame, disrespect—a place nobody gave a damn about. And after his mother passed away, the last remnants of those memories faded, and he no longer cared for it.

But now, Jiang Xun kinda wanted to see it again.

66: "Alright, then let’s burn the Palace of Dew."

The script clearly said the Emperor’s quarters, and the long-abandoned Palace of Dew certainly didn’t qualify. So that night, Jiang Xun claimed he was feeling nostalgic and moved into the Palace of Dew.

When Shen Que showed up, the place was deserted.

After hurrying back to deal with urgent reports, Shen Que selected a few interesting ones, hoping to trick the Emperor into handling them himself. After all, Jiang Xun had handled them so well in Qingping Pass—there was no reason he couldn’t now.

But when the moon rose and the stars came out, and he arrived at the Palace of Heavenly Purity under the pale moonlight, the palace lights were dim.

Shen Que stopped a servant at the door. "Has His Majesty retired? He didn’t summon me today?"

Since entering the palace, he had always shared a bed with Jiang Xun. But earlier, in the carriage, he had been coldly dismissed as "Mr. Xun," and in Qingping Pass, he hadn’t dared get too close. Now, Shen Que was anxious to confirm whether the Emperor was well after their half-month in the northern frontier—whether he had lost weight.

The servant looked down. "I don’t know."

Shen Que paused. "Not here? Do you know where he went?"

The Emperor had no harem, leaving the entire palace empty. If not the Palace of Heavenly Purity, where else could he be?

The servant: "I don’t know."

Shen Que asked, "Did he say when he would return?"

The attendant replied, "This lowly servant doesn't know."

Unless the Emperor orders otherwise, his whereabouts were confidential and not to be disclosed lightly.

The commotion at the door disturbed Wang An. The chief eunuch emerged from the hall with a practiced smile, "Ah, Lord Shen, it's late and damp out—why have you come? Please return quickly. His Majesty has not summoned you today."

Shen Que frowned. "Wang An, did you not accompany His Majesty?"

Wang An was the head eunuch and Jiang Xun's personal attendant, who should've been with the Emperor constantly. If Jiang Xun had gone to another palace, why hadn’t he taken him along?

Wang An put on an apologetic smile. "His Majesty forbade me from following. He said he didn’t want anyone disturbing him, that he sought some quiet time, so he didn’t bring this servant."

Shen Que's brow twitched slightly. "...Some quiet time?"

Seeking peace in the palace, and not even bringing his personal eunuch?

Wang An sighed. "We wouldn't presume to guess His Majesty's wishes. Perhaps he grew tired of Qianqing Palace and wanted a change of scenery. He may return tomorrow. Lord Shen, please don’t make it difficult for this servant. Without His Majesty’s summons, I cannot disclose his whereabouts to you."

Then, glancing at the moonlight, he politely urged him to leave. "Ah, it’s quite late now. Lord Shen, you must be tired from traveling, and there’s court tomorrow. Best return early and rest."

As he spoke, he gestured with a sweeping hand, signaling "please."

Shen Que said, "Sorry to bother you."

He turned and left.

But Shen Que did not return to rest as Wang An had suggested. Lantern in hand, he paused briefly before heading toward the northwestern corner of the palace, guided by memory.

Having pretended to get lost there before, Shen Que now found the path familiar.

*

Jiang Xun was sitting in the courtyard, watching the moon.

It was early spring, the third month, and apricot and peach blossoms were blooming across the capital. It was no longer cold, so there was no need for charcoal. He had dragged out an old chair from the room, wiped the dust from its surface, and stretched out comfortably.

66 sat on his shoulder, curiously surveying the surroundings. "Master, is this where you grew up as a child?"

Jiang Xun tapped its screen, like rubbing a kitten’s chin. "Yes."

The small courtyard was perfectly square, enclosed by high palace walls. As a child, Jiang Xun had thought it vast—it took forever to run across. But now, it felt tiny, so small that the sky seemed as distant as the moon in a well, his vision tightly confined. It was a cage he could neither leave nor escape.

Jiang Xun had always been indifferent to material desires. Even in his previous life, after ascending the throne and indulging in extravagance, he hadn’t found much joy. Now, having moved here to sleep, he'd left the room unchanged. He had merely ordered the servants to dust the items and bring new bedding, planning to make do for a few nights.

The plants in the courtyard hadn’t been renovated either. They were only casually tended to during routine cleanings to remove pests, leaving weeds growing wild in the soil.

Jiang Xun pulled up a long stalk of grass and showed it to 66. "Hah, it’s grown so well. Want me to make you a grasshopper?"

66 perked up excitedly. "Yes!"

When he was old enough to remember, there weren’t many good blades left in the soil. His mother said she’d plucked them all bare to amuse him when he was little. By the time he could recall anything, only small grasshoppers remained. He always wanted a big one back then—today, he’d make 66 a big one.

As he spoke, his fingers worked the grass, folding it several times before suddenly unraveling it.

66 asked, "What’s wrong?"

Jiang Xun sighed in frustration. "I’ve forgotten how to make a grasshopper."

Too many years had passed. He'd forgotten how to fold a grasshopper.

66 tapped the screen and assured him, "Don't worry, Host. I'll check the database for you. I know how to fold a grasshopper!"

It quickly accessed the record in the vast and complex data pile and displayed it on the screen. But as Jiang Xun looked through it, he shook his head and muttered, confused, "This isn't the right way to fold it."

Origami, braiding grass ropes, folding paper cranes, and folding grasshoppers—these traditional crafts vary in customs across different worlds, dynasties, and regions. Though 66's database was extensive, it wasn't all-knowing. The way Jiang Xun's mother did it wasn't there.

The screen visibly sagged.

Jiang Xun picked up the system and comforted it, "It's alright. We still have a few days before leaving. Let me think hard, and I'll remember how to fold it for you."

66 said slowly, "Okaaay—"

By then, it was almost time to rest. Jiang Xun moved the chair inside and prepared to sleep.

The bedding had been replaced with new ones, soft to the touch. Jiang Xun closed the door, blew out the candle, and lay down to rest.

He bid 66 goodnight, "Goodnight, 66."

The system yawned softly, "Goodnight, Host."

Then, Jiang Xun pulled up the covers, and the system turned itself off, ready to sleep.

Just then, neither of them noticed someone entering the courtyard with a lantern.