Chapter 139: Very Good

Chapter 139: Perfect

Shen Que stiffened.

Before he could grasp the Emperor’s meaning, Jiang Xun had already moved closer.

Hesitating, he approached cautiously, studying Shen Que’s expression carefully. Only after confirming that the Imperial Tutor showed no trace of disgust or resistance did he lightly graze Shen Que’s lower lip.

The Imperial Tutor closed his eyes, silently allowing it.

Jiang Xun then rested a hand on his shoulder, tracing the outline of his lips with practiced ease—his expertise was worlds apart from Shen Que’s inexperience. The Imperial Tutor’s eyes remained shut, but his arms trembled uncontrollably as he held onto Jiang Xun.

This was too close.

Their breaths tangled, lips and tongues meeting, shame and pleasure surging together. It was a breach of all propriety, a defiance of every norm.

In all his years, Shen Que had never been this close to anyone.

And here he was—the Emperor.

Jiang Xun’s attention never wavered from him. The moment Shen Que trembled, Jiang Xun paused, tilting his head to observe him. He studied him carefully for a long moment, like a wary creature testing for danger.

Only when he was certain Shen Que harbored no negative emotions did he tap lightly on his lip and gently part his teeth. "Don’t bite down so hard."

Shen Que’s lower lip was already bitten into a deep red; any more and it would bleed.

"...”

Shen Que let out a shaky breath, his voice hoarse. "Hearing that title now is too much."

To call him “Teacher” at this moment felt excessive.

As he spoke, his tightly pressed lips were finally freed. Jiang Xun leaned in tentatively, and when Shen Que relaxed, his teeth parted effortlessly. Their tongues tangled, but Jiang Xun didn’t deepen the kiss—instead, he paused midway, observing carefully.

He was watching Shen Que’s expression.

Barely a hand’s width apart, Jiang Xun could see every lash, sense every tremor.

Memories of their past life slipped away like sand. Though guilt gnawed at him, the Imperial Tutor had claimed he felt no aversion to Jiang Xun in this life. Yet the pain of their past lingered. This was their first kiss in this lifetime, and Jiang Xun wanted him to feel at ease.

Shen Que’s breath hitched.

His eyes remained closed, lashes fluttering pitifully, his expression hovering between pleasure and discomfort—as if something were choking him. Yet upon closer inspection, there was no sign of refusal.

So Jiang Xun closed the distance and completed the kiss.

It was controlled, free of passion. Shen Que understood—this kiss wasn’t for pleasure, but for the Emperor to carefully test whether the Imperial Tutor truly felt no aversion, as he’d claimed.

At the faintest hint of resistance, Jiang Xun would retreat, withdrawing into himself like a turtle, refusing to emerge no matter how Shen Que coaxed him.

So, despite the strain, Shen Que obediently yielded, letting the Emperor take the lead.

But soon, he could no longer focus on cooperating.

Jiang Xun drew his tongue along the sensitive roof of Shen Que’s mouth, teasing lightly before withdrawing. The unfamiliar sensation shot from his lips to his chest, drowning his senses until each breath grew labored.

Though nothing had happened in this life yet, Jiang Xun’s past life had left him “experienced.” Such gentle touches couldn’t make him lose control—but for Shen Que, it was already too much.

Jiang Xun knew how to please Shen Que, just as he knew how to unsettle him. After a prolonged moment of breathless tension, he tentatively embraced his teacher, settling against him.

The kiss ended.

Shen Que closed his eyes, breathing lightly.

It took him a good while to collect himself.

The Emperor nestled close, yet despite the proximity, Jiang Xun kept his neck stiff, bearing his own weight entirely without pressing against Shen Que. Behind his tousled hair, Jiang Xun once again studied Shen Que’s expression.

The Imperial Tutor, meanwhile, reached out to embrace the Emperor, lowering his gaze slightly—just in time to catch Jiang Xun stealing a glance at him.

That kiss had been unnervingly skilled, yet the Jiang Xun leaning against him wore an expression of cautiousness, even tinged with unease and hesitation.

As if worried whether Shen Que had liked the kiss.

Heartbreakingly sweet.

Shen Que sighed softly.

Raised in imperial privilege, one would expect arrogance and dominance. Jiang Xun, as the Emperor, should have been the object of sycophantic flattery from all his subjects—yet his temperament was unexpectedly gentle.

Shen Que still remembered when Jiang Xun first ascended the throne, exuding an air of arrogance. Back then, the Emperor ignored all advice, throwing the Six Ministries into disarray. Countless memorials piled up on Shen Que’s desk, and he had once worried whether such self-assuredness would harm the nation. But now, it seemed that had merely been a flimsy front.

Shen Que held him, running his fingers through the Emperor’s hair. The soft strands felt a little ticklish against his neck.

He thought of that cold palace, of those rough-spun clothes. Just how much hardship had the Young Emperor endured in his youth to become this cautious?

He sighed. "Do you believe me now? I’ve never hated you."

After that kiss, how could he doubt it?

"...Mm."

Jiang Xun lowered his eyes, hiding emotions too tangled to name.

His younger self’s mistakes cost too much, but fortunately, this life offered a chance for redemption.

Jiang Xun had received little kindness in either lifetime. Aside from his mother in childhood, he had never been held by anyone. Shen Que’s arms were too safe, too warm.

He buried his face against the Imperial Tutor’s shoulder and fell silent.

Shen Que held him quietly, waiting until his breathing steadied before asking, "About Xue Jin’s idea—want to give it a shot?"

He meant Jiang Xun resuming governance.

Before Jiang Xun could answer, Shen Que added, "If you’d rather not, it’s fine. There’s no rush. But leaving Xue Jin in charge truly isn’t ideal. He’s too wild for paperwork, lacks the talent for it. The Grand Secretariat is in chaos because of him, with a stack of complaints piling up. In my opinion, it’d be better to send him back to the northern frontier to guard the borders for you."

You could *taste* the disdain in his voice.

"..."

Seriously—history says this is Shen Que’s destined ruler, the Founding Emperor of Liang! So why the attitude?

What about the whole ‘ruler and subject in perfect sync’ thing?

Jiang Xun covered his face.

Xue Jin’s departure didn’t bother him much, but what about Mission 66?

...The Founding Emperor was *this close* to bailing.

Jiang Xun pleaded desperately: "Don't send him away yet. I'm in no state to govern right now. Let him stay in the Wen Yuan Pavilion for a while longer."

Shen Que reluctantly agreed, "Fine."

But soon enough, Xue Jin had to leave whether he wanted to or not.

Upon hearing that Xue Jin had returned to the Wen Yuan Pavilion, the old Marquis Zhenbei went into a rage. He trashed the entire marquis' residence, sent a bunch of his personal guards to drag Xue Jin out of the Wen Yuan Pavilion, and then asked forgiveness rather than permission—had the Junior General's hands tied behind his back, forced him into a carriage, and had him raced back to Qingping Pass.

At first, Xue Jin was completely confused. After receiving a light kick from his father and learning he was being sent back to the northern frontier, he perked right up. He cooperatively let himself be tied up and tossed into the carriage, then left without a backward glance.

Only when the carriage had reached the border and the Junior General was long gone did Marquis Zhenbei personally come to visit Jiang Xun.

The old man, carrying a bundle of bramble branches, knelt trembling before Jiang Xun, tears and snot streaming down his face as he bitterly denounced his son for being crude, foolish, and unruly. Though his words sounded like complaints, they were actually meant to protect Xue Jin.

Serving a ruler is like walking on eggshells—and Jiang Xun had a questionable past at that. Marquis Zhenbei feared that Xue Jin’s continued presence in the Wen Yuan Pavilion would arouse suspicion, and that he might inadvertently commit some offense, provoking the Emperor’s wrath and losing his life. Thus, he took this drastic step, first sending his son away before coming to beg for forgiveness.

Trembling as he moved to kowtow, the old man was in his sixties or seventies, still fiercely loyal to the nation. What could Jiang Xun say?

He could only waved off the kneeling and kindly invited him to rise. "Xue belongs at the frontier. He is a rare military talent for this dynasty—it would be a waste to keep him in the capital. It’s better for him to return."

Marquis Zhenbei left satisfied.

Leaving Jiang Xun to stare dumbly at his mental system.

—The Founding Emperor is gone. What now?

—Bring him back?

—Bringing him back wouldn’t help anyway.

An emperor’s abdication was a major event, requiring the right timing, conditions, and consensus—it wasn’t something Jiang Xun could simply pass on to whomever he pleased. The cooperation of the entire court was necessary.

After the great victory at Qingping Pass, Jiang Xun’s reputation was at its absolute peak, with widespread acclaim in both court and public. Meanwhile, Xue Jin, after just a month in the Wen Yuan Pavilion, had managed—through his nonsensical paperwork skills and erratic governance—to offend nearly every official in the court.

Five out of the six ministers despised him, four openly showed their displeasure, and three lodged complaints before Shen Que, expressing their dissatisfaction in no uncertain terms.

One particularly senior official even bluntly said, "Where did Your Majesty dig up this so-called ‘genius’ of governance? It’s like seeing a ghost in broad daylight! He’s always cluttering up the Wen Yuan Pavilion, getting in the way. Can’t we just send him back where he came from?"

Under these circumstances, the Founding Emperor was destined never to become the Founding Emperor.

Xue Jin remained completely clueless that he had missed out on the empire’s most prestigious position. On his first day back, he galloped freely outside Qingping Pass, racing across half the grasslands, beaming and carefree, utterly delighted—refusing to return to the capital no matter what.

"..."

A gloomy atmosphere hung over the loquat courtyard.

66 poked at its calculator, trying to tally the score. Pouting as if on the verge of tears, it sniffled, "Su Zhu, just keep being the Emperor. Don’t worry about me, wuwuwu..."

Jiang Xun hugged it in consolation, racking his brains for a solution but coming up empty. Before he could react, Shen Que dragged him from the bedroom to the study.

The Imperial Tutor carried a stack of memorials and said sternly, "Your Majesty seems in good spirits today. It’s time to try governing."

"..."

Jiang Xun muttered, "I’m not in good spirits."

Shen Que coaxed, "Just give it a try? I’ll read them to you. If it gets too much, we’ll stop, alright?"

Jiang Xun could never say no to that tone.

Ever since that day when Jiang Xun and the Imperial Tutor had kissed, it seemed Shen Que had figured out the Emperor's weak spot. Every time he softened his voice to gently persuade, Jiang Xun would reluctantly agree.

This time wasn't any different.

He opened the memorial and began reading in a steady tone, while Jiang Xun muttered "won't listen, won't listen," yet still quieted down and perked up his ears.

Shen Que let out a soft chuckle.

He read aloud—the memorial was from the Ministry of Revenue, about the overspending on princely stipends and seeking the Emperor's opinion. As Jiang Xun listened, he unconsciously gripped the brush in his hand, nearly snapping it clean in two.

He had never rehearsed the contents of such a memorial, and didn't feel confident handling it. But from his past studies of history, he knew many methods for dealing with feudal lords. If Shen Que insisted, he could speak—though he worried whether they would suit the current dynasty and end up looking foolish.

Once Shen Que finished reading, he asked, "What does Your Majesty think?"

Jiang Xun bit his lip. "Hmm..."

He spoke hesitantly, eliminating a few methods clearly unsuitable for the present dynasty and selecting two appropriate ones, explaining them to Shen Que one by one.

Then, he nervously clutched the brush, awaiting the Imperial Tutor's evaluation.

Shen Que nodded.

Gazing at the Emperor, he smiled and affirmed, "Very good."

Jiang Xun let out a sudden sigh of relief.

—This "very good," he had waited two lifetimes to hear.