Chapter 135: The Proxy

Chapter 135: Substitute

Shen Que turned his head to look. The Emperor's breathing gradually steadied as he fell asleep, hugging the blanket.

His sleeping appearance was unusually peaceful—free of the pretended ruthlessness in court, the aloofness he showed Mr. Xun, or the desolate stillness that had filled Chenglu Palace earlier.

Shen Que reached out, hesitating for a brief, disoriented pause before placing his fingers against the Emperor's neck.

The skin was warm, blood coursing through the veins, the pulse beating steadily beneath his fingertips—each beat resonating through the flesh, unmistakably reaching the pads of his fingers.

—Jiang Xun was alive.

Shen Que's heart, clenched in worry, settled back into place, yet his fingers, forced steady, trembled uncontrollably.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly before steadying once more. Beneath the surface of calm and composure, the relief of survival finally surged forth.

The Emperor had wanted to die.

It happened so abruptly that Shen Que was caught off guard. They had just returned from the lantern festival—the Northern Di war was one of the dynasty's rare great victories, and the people, young and old, were celebrating. Countless river lanterns drifted downstream, sky lanterns floated into the sky, and Jiang Xun, rarely this cheerful, had sampled many new pastries and walked along the river for a long while. Everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction. Shen Que couldn't understand why he had wanted to die.

But it was true.

In the fire, the Emperor had shown no panic—even resisting rescue. He had repeatedly pushed Shen Que toward the exit while refusing to move himself. Had Shen Que not stubbornly held onto him, he would have broken free long ago.

...Why?

Shen Que studied him. Jiang Xun's skin was excessively pale, his eyelashes casting thick black shadows beneath his eyes, where faint shadows lingered—a remnant of sleepless nights before the decisive battle at Qingping Pass. Jiang Xun had fought alongside them at the frontier, inspecting the camp over and over as a healer, sharing in everyone's hope for victory. Yet when the news of triumph arrived, he chose death.

Alone, in the lonely silence of Chenglu Palace, nearly equivalent to the cold palace.

...Why?

Even Shen Que, renowned for his wisdom, could not comprehend it.

Jiang Xun's behavior had been utterly abnormal, starkly different from his usual self—as fragile as dew, so ephemeral that even the slightest touch, let alone the rising sun, would cause him to vanish like a fleeting illusion. Shen Que had carefully maintained the balance, desperate to prolong the dew's existence, afraid to push further.

Fortunately, Jiang Xun had come out with him.

Jiang Xun's breath brushed against Shen Que's neck, raising shivers, but it didn't discomfort him. He reached out and lightly touched the Emperor's soft, tousled hair—gentle and yielding, like stroking a cat.

Shen Que thought to himself, "No rush."

Jiang Xun was still here. Jiang Xun was unharmed. Shen Que had endless patience to uncover the anomaly of this night.

With that thought, he let out a slow breath.

The carriage rolled through the capital's streets before halting at the entrance of the alley. The lane was too narrow for the carriage to pass, forcing the coachman to pull the reins and stop.

The tremor of the stopping horse roused Jiang Xun. Frowning, he glanced around, instinctively leaning into Shen Que in a display of complete reliance.

Shen Que lowered his gaze and said quietly, "Your Majesty, we've arrived."

Jiang Xun: "Mm."

He jumped down from the carriage.

After Jiang Xun's departure for Qingping Pass, he hadn't visited Hundred Li Alley for a long time. Unattended, the narrow lane had accumulated a thick layer of dried leaves, crunching loudly underfoot.

Wang An oversaw the servants in tidying up the rooms, swiftly preparing a bedroom for rest. Exhausted and drowsy, Jiang Xun struggled to keep his eyes open, eager to sleep—but Shen Que said, "Your Majesty, wait a moment. The doctor is here."

The gray-haired Royal Physician lifted the Emperor's chin, carefully examining Jiang Xun's eyes. The amber irises were clouded with a smoky haze, and as the physician studied them, his expression grew grave.

Shen Que asked, "Is there a problem?"

The physician hesitated for a moment. "This... I'm afraid it will be difficult to recover in a short time."

Jiang Xun cared little about his vision. Besides, System 66 had already confirmed that the blurriness was temporary—at most, he would recover within two months. So he stayed calm, sitting quietly on the bedside, waiting for the physician to leave.

But he sensed a look full of unreadable emotion.

Jiang Xun turned his head and saw a red blur. Tilting his head slightly, he asked in confusion, "Chancellor?"

Shen Que's fingers twitched slightly. He wanted to touch the Emperor's head again, but it clearly wasn’t the right time, so he only said gently, "Get some rest, Your Majesty. I will discuss further with the physician."

Jiang Xun nodded, then asked, "Is Marquis Zhenbei’s family due in the capital tomorrow?"

The battle at Qingping Pass was over, and both Marquis Zhenbei and his son, Xue Jin, were due in the capital to receive their rewards. By his estimate, they should arrive the next day.

Shen Que replied, "Indeed."

Jiang Xun then said, "Tell Xue Jin to come see me tomorrow."

Shen Que didn’t question it and agreed before extinguishing the candle, closing the doors and windows, and leaving with the physician.

They spoke in hushed tones under the eaves.

The dynasty’s medical knowledge was primitive, and the physician's diagnostic skills were far inferior to System 66's. While 66 had assured that the injury would heal in two months, the old doctor kept sighing, saying only, "Chancellor, you must prepare yourself. His Majesty’s eyes... are in bad shape. I can only do my best."

Though he left the words unspoken, everyone understood the implication—

—They may never heal completely.

Shen Que clenched his fists silently. "...Please do your utmost."

After escorting the physician out, he returned inside. The Emperor had already pulled the blanket over himself and fallen asleep. Shen Que lay down beside him, and Jiang Xun instinctively moved closer to the warmth, curling up against him.

He was sound asleep.

Shen Que stroked the Emperor's hair, then closed his eyes.

But he did not sleep the entire night.

*

The next morning, when Jiang Xun awoke, he heard grass rustling.

He got out of bed, felt his way to the table, and reached toward the source of the sound—only to brush against warm skin.

It was Shen Que's arm.

The Chancellor had swapped his red court robes for a dark cyan gown, fading into the background. Jiang Xun couldn't see clearly.

Startled, before he could react, Shen Que grasped his hand. "Sit, Your Majesty. Try this."

He placed a grasshopper into Jiang Xun's palm.

Jiang Xun touched it. The grass had been freshly plucked from the courtyard, larger than before. He pressed it lightly, pleased.

Shen Que asked, "I made extras. Want to learn how?"

Jiang Xun sat beside him. "Mm."

However, with his eyes unable to see, his folding movements appeared clumsy. He followed Shen Que's method but failed to grasp it, making repeated mistakes. After several attempts and ruining many leaves, he still couldn't fold one properly.

"Enough," Jiang Xun pushed the leaves aside. "Perhaps next time."

Shen Que tilted his head and saw the Emperor visibly lose energy.

After the fire incident, Jiang Xun seemed to have shed all pretense, his emotions now genuine and unrestrained. Shen Que paused, then grasped Jiang Xun's wrist. "Allow this subject to assist."

Holding Jiang Xun's wrist, he guided his fingers over the leaves, carefully weaving each fold.

Shen Que was so close that Jiang Xun could almost feel his breath. His fingers curled slightly, stiff and awkward, leading to more mistakes. Shen Que patiently undid and redid the folds until a grasshopper was almost finished—when Wang An's voice came from outside.

"Your Majesty, the Zhenbei Marquis Heir Apparent has arrived."

Jiang Xun felt relieved. His ears flushed red as he composed himself, pushing Shen Que away to create distance. "Summon him."

Xue Jin arrived dust-covered from riding, still in riding attire, and knelt. "This humble general pays respects to Your Majesty and thanks Your Majesty for the rewards."

The Junior General's gratitude was sincere. Jiang Xun had opened the imperial private treasury to reward the army—a generous sum from the Emperor's own wealth. Xue Jin had long worried about withheld military pay, leaving his frontier brothers unpaid. Now, not only was the pay fully restored, but there was even extra. The entire Zhenbei Army rejoiced, and so did Xue Jin.

Compared to the previous penny-pinching Emperor, he liked this one much more.

Jiang Xun smiled. "Sit."

Though speaking to Xue Jin, Jiang Xun's gaze remained unfocused, drifting vaguely in the air. Xue Jin froze. "Your Majesty, your eyes...?"

"My sight fails me," Jiang Xun replied. "According to the imperial physician, they won’t recover. There’s no cure."

He deliberately omitted 66's assessment.

An Emperor’s incurable blindness was a grave matter. Xue Jin stiffened, at a loss for words. "Nonsense! Heaven protects Your Majesty..."

Jiang Xun cut him off. "No need for formalities. I know my condition. I summoned you today precisely because of this."

"Your Majesty, please speak," Xue Jin straightened.

Jiang Xun smiled. "Through all recorded history, no blind ruler has ever governed. I recognize my incapacity to rule the realm."

His tone was calm, but both Xue Jin and Shen Que tensed. Before Shen Que could speak, Xue Jin blurted, "Your Majesty does yourself injustice! If you are unfit to rule, who is?"

Great Wei’s royal lineage had dwindled—Jiang Xun was the last true heir.

"In my current state, reading memorials is difficult, let alone governing. It’s hard to command respect. Xue Jin, during my time at Qingping Pass, I saw your talent. The Zhenbei Army is our empire's finest troops, and they follow you loyally. Would you consider assuming the throne...?"

Heaven's decree dictated that Xue Jin should become Emperor and Shen Que serve as Chancellor. Jiang Xun wanted to complete the plot for a good system score. As for himself, his wishes fulfilled, he had no regrets handing the throne to Xue Jin.

By Jiang Xun’s reasoning, an "incapacitated" Emperor and a vacant royal line, combined with Xue Jin’s command of the empire’s strongest military force—backed by Shen Que, Shen Xiu, and others—made his ascension legitimate.

But before he could finish, Xue Jin collapsed from his seat, knees thudding against the wooden floor as he kowtowed twice.

The Junior General appeared genuinely distraught, voice trembling. "I swear upon my ancestors! I have no such ambition! I only wish to guard the frontier for generations, nor harbor imperial ambitions!"

He kowtowed twice more, the impact making others wince.

"..."

Jiang Xun grimaced in sympathy.

He pitied Xue Jin’s head—worried the Founding Emperor might concuss himself—and took pride in maintaining the wooden floor himself. Xue Jin’s loud kowtows had Jiang Xun worrying the Loquat Courtyard's wooden floor might crack.

Jiang Xun was startled by Xue Jin and quickly stood up to help him, pressing his fingertips against Xue Jin's shoulders to stop him from bowing further. He explained, "You've misunderstood. I'm not testing you, but my current condition truly makes me unfit to be the Emperor. I can't handle state affairs and can only rest in this courtyard. Think of it as helping me out, won't you?"

Xue Jin wiped his face and asked nervously, "What are you saying, Your Majesty?"

Jiang Xun dodged the question, "During my absence, why don't you stay in the palace and make decisions with the ministers of the Wenyuan Pavilion?"

First, let Xue Jin act on behalf of the Emperor. Once the court got used to it, he could then formally pass the throne to him.

Xue Jin was flabbergasted. "This—Your Majesty, please reconsider! How could I possibly stay in the palace? This isn’t right!"

He was about to cry.

Shen Que, who had been sitting beside Jiang Xun smoothing his hair, paused briefly at his words but offered no objection and simply continued his task.

Xue Jin turned to him desperately and hurriedly pleaded, "Senior Tutor! Senior Tutor Shen! Please advise His Majesty! This isn’t right! Truly not right!"

The Junior General's eyes pleaded silently, staring imploringly at Shen Que like a puppy, as if silently begging, "Senior Tutor! Say something! Please persuade His Majesty!"

Jiang Xun also turned his head toward Shen Que.

His vision remained blurred, devoid of the usual tyranny and coldness from court, appearing gentle and unfocused. He simply tilted his head up, politely awaiting Shen Que's opinion—though no matter what Shen Que said, Jiang Xun wouldn’t budge.

Just as Jiang Xun prepared to argue further, Shen Que ignored Xue Jin and lowered his gaze, saying, "Junior General, His Majesty makes a valid point. He is currently unable to govern, but the country can’t be left leaderless. Let us proceed as His Majesty suggests."

The Junior General looked up in disbelief. "Senior Tutor Shen!"

He shot Shen Que a betrayed look. "How could you agree to this?!"

—Making *me* the leader is a joke!

—And I have no idea how to govern!

This was, of course, an insane idea. A border general suddenly being transferred to the Wenyuan Pavilion to oversee officials—what kind of madness was this? In the past, Shen Que would never have agreed to such a preposterous idea and would have protested vehemently.

But after yesterday's fire, keeping the Emperor content was all that mattered.

"..."

With both the Emperor and the Senior Tutor in agreement, Xue Jin had no choice. Defeated, he accepted the transfer order and sneaked into the Wenyuan Pavilion like a criminal.