Chapter 134: The Alley

Chapter 134 The Alley

For a moment, Jiang Xun thought he was seeing things.

A sea of crimson burned brighter than the flames, with a navy-blue crane insignia embedded at its center. Jiang Xun’s sight was blurred from the smoke and flames, leaving only indistinct patches of color, yet he still recognized the figure.

In all of Great Wei, no one wore court robes as sharply as he did.

...But Shen Que—why was he here?

Before Jiang Xun could react, his wrist was seized. A powerful tug jerked him forward as Shen Que pulled him abruptly. "Your Majesty, this way—stay with me."

The force was so strong that Jiang Xun stumbled. He barely caught the bedframe, but before he could resist, Shen Que restrained him.

The Imperial Tutor had plunged into the flames, pressing the damp cloth firmly over his face with one hand.

The moist fabric soothed the burning pain on his skin. Jiang Xun blinked hard, his blurred vision sharpening to focus on Shen Que.

...It really was him.

Jiang Xun was lost.

Why was Shen Que here? Why had he entered? Didn’t he see it was a death trap?

...Did he come to save him?

But why? Jiang Xun had reduced him from a respected scholar to a palace plaything. He had caned Shen Xiu, imprisoned Xue Jin—he was the infamously inept Emperor. What was the point of saving him?

The world didn’t need him.

Xue Jin would make a better ruler. Shen Que would live a better life. The world would improve. Everyone would be better off.

As Jiang Xun lost himself in thought, Shen Que had already mapped their way out. His voice was gritty with smoke. "Your Majesty, please hold onto me. *Cough*... *cough*..."

Unprotected by the cloth, the rising smoke assaulted Shen Que’s throat, sending him into a fit of coughing.

His spine, always so rigid, curled inward as he struggled to suppress the coughs. Jiang Xun stiffened before thrashing wildly.

The air was thick with poison, and carbon monoxide lingered from incomplete combustion. Shen Que shouldn’t be inhaling this.

He wanted to break free, to return the cloth and push Shen Que out of the fire, then tell him, "You go first. I won’t leave."

Shen Que couldn’t stay here. He was the cornerstone of Liang, the future-renowned Qingyi Prime Minister. He still had so much to accomplish, so many paths to walk. Jiang Xun’s story, however, was already over. System 66’s task was still incomplete—he had to stay and finish it.

This was where they should part ways. It was the best ending.

But the Imperial Tutor’s grip on the cloth was unyielding, his hold so firm that Jiang Xun couldn’t speak or struggle. He could only be pressed against Shen Que’s chest as the man dragged him forward.

As if sensing the Emperor’s reluctance, Shen Que gave him a firm pat. "It’s alright... *cough*... Your Majesty, don’t be afraid... *cough*... Follow me... Hold my hand."

Speaking in a fire was perilous. The heat clawed at his throat, yet Shen Que seemed unaffected. He only repeated, "Your Majesty, don’t be afraid. Please hold onto me tightly."

Jiang Xun wasn’t afraid, but after a moment’s hesitation, he reached out.

As his hand brushed against Shen Que’s sleeve, something hard tumbled out and landed in his palm. Jiang Xun traced its shape with his fingers—and froze.

It was an oddly shaped woven grass object, with pointed protrusions like a tiny insect.

A grasshopper.

The grasshopper was huge, bigger than any he had owned as a child. The rough leaves were common weeds from the courtyard, completely at odds with Shen Que’s refined, scholarly demeanor. Jiang Xun found it hard to imagine the Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion carrying such a thing in his sleeve.

Jiang Xun clutched it numbly, suddenly at a loss.

It had fallen from Shen Que’s sleeve—did Shen Que make this?

Jiang Xun couldn’t see clearly, but with just a slight touch of his fingertips, he recognized his mother’s folding method, just like he remembered.

The giant grasshopper he’d yearned for as a kid but could never find had, in the last moments of his life, tumbled out of Shen Que’s sleeve.

“…”

The Imperial Tutor kept a firm grip on his hand, their fingers laced together, as if afraid Jiang Xun would pull away. Steady on his feet, he guided the Emperor forward through the flames.

Behind them, beams crashed down; above them, curtains burned into blinding firelight. Yet Shen Que only said, “Your Majesty, please follow me.”

As if no matter what happened, he would never let go of the Emperor’s hand.

Staggering a few steps behind him, Jiang Xun suddenly spoke in a small voice, “Shen Qing, I want to learn how to fold grasshoppers.”

Flames roared around them, the scorching heat distorting the air. The Emperor’s request was bizarrely timed, yet Shen Que smiled and actually replied, “Good. I’ll teach Your Majesty how to fold grasshoppers.”

His voice came out scratchy and raw, but Jiang Xun could imagine how warm and smooth it usually sounded.

All at once, Jiang Xun didn’t want to stay anymore.

He wanted to keep holding this hand, to learn how to fold grasshoppers from him again.

Once this thought took root, it grew swiftly, like new shoots pushing through barren soil, spreading like wild grass under a spring breeze—impossible to ignore or contain.

By now, Shen Que had pulled him a fair distance away. A few more steps and they’d be clear.

Jiang Xun hesitated, then let go of his resistance. His fingers curled into his palm, and he asked softly, “66?”

…Can I really follow him?

Jiang Xun remembered the initial contract—the 85-point limit. If unfulfilled, everything before him would vanish like smoke.

66 was panicking, already in tears. It had watched helplessly as its Su Zhu stood motionless, flames creeping toward his feet, still refusing to speak and return. Now, it nodded frantically, voice thick with tears, “Yes! You can go! Just go, Su Zhu! I lied—I don’t need 85, I only need 60, wuwuwu! Go, Su Zhu, go! Please, I’m begging you…”

The little system sobbed helplessly, laying all its cards bare.

Jiang Xun hesitated, then relaxed his stiff resistance.

Shen Que took his hand and led the Emperor out.

The fire in Chenglu Palace had alarmed the palace servants. The moment Jiang Xun emerged, servants came running with buckets to douse the flames.

The area was isolated, no other structures around, and the high palace walls contained the fire. Before long, it was put out.

Wang An swept in with an entourage, fussing over him, wiping the Emperor’s face and changing his clothes. Jiang Xun stood still, letting them tend to him.

After the fire, the ground was scorched earth, beams collapsed in ruins. Jiang Xun stood safely, staring blankly back, his gaze distant, like he was looking for something that wasn’t there.

Shen Que still hadn’t let go of Jiang Xun’s hand. His wrist shook faintly, sending a tremor through Jiang Xun too. The Emperor looked up at him in confusion, as if asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Shen Que suppressed this insignificant physical reaction. He took a sip of water to steady his voice, his tone regaining its calm. “This place is uninhabitable now. Would Your Majesty return to Qianqing Palace?”

Jiang Xun pressed his lips together. “No…”

The Qianqing Palace was reserved for Xue Jin. He had already botched part of Mission 66 and couldn’t afford to ruin any more.

Jiang Xun repeated, "I want to leave the palace."

He disliked this imperial palace—not one damn bit.

Beside him, Wang An looked astonished.

The Emperor should, of course, reside in the Qianqing Palace. Leaving the palace at night was neither proper nor in accordance with protocol, and Shen Que, of all people, was the one who valued etiquette and rules the most. The eunuch figured the Imperial Tutor would surely talk him out of it and advise against it.

Yet, under the eunuch’s bewildered gaze, Shen Que simply brushed back the Emperor’s hair and said gently, "Where would you like to go? How about Baili Alley?"

Baili Alley—the small courtyard where Mr. Xun grew loquats.

Jiang Xun went completely still.

His mind moving slowly, he wanted to ask when Shen Que had found out, but his chin was cupped as the Imperial Tutor leaned in to examine his eyes, frowning. "Are your eyes injured?"

His vision was hazy, unfocused.

Shen Que studied the Emperor’s eyes closely, observing those beautiful amber pupils, his warm breath ghosting over Jiang Xun’s ear. Jiang Xun clutched his robe, seriously uncomfortable.

He took two steps back to free himself, lowering his gaze to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. "It's nothing. Just smoke got in them. It'll clear up in a few days."

The skin around his eyes was delicate, while the imperial robes were stiff, embroidered with gold thread—rough and scratchy. How could he use his sleeve to wipe?

Shen Que stopped him, replacing the sleeve with a handkerchief. The Emperor’s crystal-clear pupils met his, yet they seemed veiled in mist.

His hand trembled imperceptibly before steadying again.

66's diagnosis came through: "Minor vision impairment. Expected recovery time: two months."

Jiang Xun let out a relieved breath.

It wasn’t fear of blindness—he just needed a reason to give up his throne now that he had survived. Having the Emperor suffer from blurred vision, unable to see, became the perfect excuse.

Jiang Xun gave Shen Que’s sleeve a tug. "I want to go to Baili Alley."

Shen Que nodded. "Alright."

Jiang Xun paused, then added, "You're coming with me."

Shen Que: "...Very well."

The grasshopper was carefully tucked in Jiang Xun’s sleeve. That night, a sedan chair slipped out of the palace through a side gate, heading toward the alley.

Shen Que pulled his coat over Jiang Xun’s head, shielding him completely. Worn out from the day’s events, Jiang Xun hesitated for a moment—with no Shen Xiu to lean on—before resting against Shen Que.

The Imperial Tutor patted the Emperor’s back, comforting him like a fussy child. "Get some sleep."

"When you wake up, I’ll teach you how to make a grasshopper."