Chapter 144: Modern Extra: The Same Coffin

Chapter 144 Modern Extra: Eternal Roommates

The moment Jiang Xun opened his eyes, he was completely lost.

The air was stifling hot, the ceiling fan clattered overhead, and the cicadas outside the window seemed choked by the summer heat, their buzzing weak and half-hearted.

He looked down to see a black pen clutched in his hand. His desk was stacked with study guides, and in the center lay a photocopied test.

A test?

Jiang Xun flipped to the header of the paper, where bold letters read: "Jin City's Third District-Wide Exam—History."

Jiang Xun: "..."

The Jin City District-Wide Exam—ah, those words hit like a blast from the past.

Jiang Xun started scanning the questions.

Awesome. The first multiple-choice question looked kinda familiar. He probably studied this, but at a glance, option A sounded reasonable, option B looked right, option C wasn’t impossible, and option D could be it...

His pen dragged across the draft paper, leaving a straight ink mark.

—Blanked.

He moved on to the second question.

Awesome. Drawing another blank.

By the time he ran through the multiple-choice, each one looked kinda familiar, yet Jiang Xun was blanking on every single one.

"..."

Jiang Xun took a deep breath and turned to the essay questions.

If the multiple-choice was guesswork, the essays would just be total BS.

But as he read the first essay prompt, he was met with a familiar name.

"How should Emperor Wen Jiang Xun be evaluated?"

This was a question Jiang Xun could answer by muscle memory. He let out a small sigh of relief, thinking, *Finally something I actually know.* He picked up his pen and began writing: "Jiang Xun, the Deposed Emperor of Wei, was the main reason the Wei Dynasty fell. During his reign, he favored corrupt officials, went after honest officials, indulged in extravagance, taxed people into the ground, and caused widespread public unrest, directly leading to the decline of Wei's national power..."

Halfway through, Jiang Xun suddenly paused, something felt off.

Emperor Wen Jiang Xun?

Wasn’t he the Deposed Emperor of Wei? Who was this Emperor Wen?

Was there some other emperor with the same name?

Emperors were given posthumous titles to evaluate their reigns, and "Wen" was an exceptionally high honor. Historically, only a handful of emperors had received this title, most of whom were rulers of prosperous eras. This Emperor Wen...

...Could it be himself?

Jiang Xun froze, the pen still in his grip.

—He was screwed.

The only question he could answer was now a complete mystery.

After hesitating for a good while, without praise or criticism, Jiang Xun skipped the question.

...He couldn’t answer the following questions either.

Jiang Xun vaguely remembered a few terms and dates, but most had slipped from his mind. In the end, he hastily filled out the exam paper, scribbling nonsense about whatever came to mind, and handed it in just before the bell rang.

The next day, the history teacher marched into the classroom scowling.

After distributing the papers, he rapped on Jiang Xun’s desk. "Class representative, what got into you yesterday?"

Jiang Xun had always excelled in history during high school and had served as class representative for three years.

Jiang Xun: "..."

He glanced at the history paper in his hand, with a score barely above 20, and stayed silent.

The teacher glared at him. "Jiang Xun, if you weren't feeling well or didn’t feel like writing, I could understand randomly guessing the multiple-choice questions. But what in the world did you write for the essay questions? Here, flip to the first essay question—how did you evaluate Emperor Wen, Jiang Xun?"

Jiang Xun turned to the page. He hadn’t written or crossed anything out yesterday, leaving his previous answer intact—the one calling him extravagant and tyrannical.

Jiang Xun: "..."

The teacher's mustache bristled as he banged the desk loudly. "Jiang Xun, were you deliberately giving wrong answers? ‘Favored treacherous officials and persecuted loyal ones’—who exactly were these treacherous officials? Shen Xiu? Xue Jin? Or Qingyi Prime Minister Shen Que? And who were these so-called persecuted loyal ones? Don’t tell me you meant Xu Ping and Xu Ying, those two?"

Xu Ping and Xu Ying—Jiang Xun had almost forgotten about them.

They were his uncle's spoiled sons, who later oppressed the common people. Jiang Xun had stripped their titles and banished them from the capital.

Jiang Xun: "..."

He kept his head down, not daring to look up at the history teacher.

The teacher kept knocking on the desk, utterly disbelieving that his model student could submit such a rebellious paper.

He stared at Jiang Xun with exasperation. "And what exactly does ‘extravagance’ refer to? That he never built palaces and planted loquat trees outside the imperial city? And oppressive taxation—does that mean his tomb was empty, with no burial goods at all? Jiang Xun, have you gone mad? You’re laughing? How can you even laugh..."

The history teacher grew more and more agitated until he finally pointed out the window. "Go wait outside!"

Jiang Xun: "..."

"Okay."

He picked up his paper and stood outside the door. Free from restraint, the corners of his lips lifted slightly.

Though scolded mercilessly by the history teacher, Jiang Xun felt strangely lighthearted. He leaned against the railing, looking down at the school grounds—familiar yet strange. The mulberry and phoenix trees were lush with greenery, and the orange rubber track peeked through. Some class was having P.E., the boys and girls walking together, full of youthful energy.

It was cooler outside the classroom. The wind played with Jiang Xun’s uniform as he rested against the railing, his mood lifting.

Then, in the distance, he saw the school gates open as a black sedan drove in.

Normally, the gates remained closed during school hours unless there was a visitor. The car glided smoothly into the parking lot, and the door opened, a leg emerging first.

The calf, wrapped in tailored trousers, was straight and well-proportioned, the lines elegant—even the curve of the ankle was pleasing, as if meant to be held and admired.

Jiang Xun rose on his tiptoes, leaning forward for a better look.

The man who stepped out was dressed like a scholar—scholarly and refined, in his early thirties. Broad-shouldered with a narrow waist, his slightly lean frame suited his crisp suit perfectly. Silver-framed glasses rested on his nose, and behind them, his eyes were warm and smiling as he turned to speak to someone.

...Shen Que?

Before Jiang Xun could take a closer look, the homeroom teacher rushed over: "Everyone, follow me to the lecture hall. A professor from University A is here to give a talk, including their admissions policies and quotas for this year. Try to grab seats near the front."

University A was one of the top-tier universities and a dream school for many. Back when Jiang Xun was still a top student, he had also considered applying there.

As for now...

Jiang Xun lowered his gaze to the history test paper in his hand, covered in red crosses.

—Pfft.

Yeah right.

The classroom door opened, and students streamed out. Jiang Xun quietly folded the test paper, stashed it in his pocket, and deliberately hung back at the tail end, taking a seat in the corner of the lecture hall.

Shen Que stepped onto the stage.

His gaze swept the room but didn’t spot Jiang Xun sitting in the corner. His expression faltered briefly, though he quickly masked it, then leaned forward to adjust the microphone and began speaking.

He first introduced University A’s policies, changes, and academic programs for the year before inviting questions from the students.

Since he was so good-looking, some students immediately joked about wanting to be his students and asked, "Which department are you from, Professor?"

Shen Que smiled. "Archaeology."

Jiang Xun had expected nothing less.

After the lecture ended and everyone had left, Shen Que got into his car. Only then did Jiang Xun tap on the window.

As the glass rolled down, Shen Que’s eyes lit up.

The Imperial Tutor avoided the crowd and yanked the Young Emperor straight into the car. Once they passed through the school gate, Jiang Xun whispered, "Does this count as skipping class?"

An University A professor helping a student skip class—now that’d be a riot.

Shen Que mussed his hair, the feel of it just as good as he remembered. It had been a while since he’d last done so, and he’d missed it.

Shen Que asked, "Do you want to transfer to a school near me?"

Jiang Xun had no parents in this life and had scraped by on scholarships to get by. While Shen Que couldn’t easily relocate for work, Jiang Xun could move to be with him.

Jiang Xun: "Yes."

Otherwise, how else to explain nosediving?

Shen Que nodded. "Good. Better yet, test into University A later."

Jiang Xun: "..."

He crumpled the tragic test paper through his pocket.

Too tragic.

Shen Que moved fast when it came to Jiang Xun. That same day, he flew back with him to City A and completed the transfer procedures.

Shen Que owned an apartment near University A, a two-bedder, perfect. He settled Jiang Xun there, out at dawn, back at dusk. Every few days, the Young Emperor would shove a test paper at him, all awkward-like, asking Shen Que to sign it.

Shen Que sighed each time.

Back in their Great Wei days, Jiang Xun had repeatedly confirmed that he was Shen Que’s favorite student—even forcing him to admit, at odd hours, that he was the most talented, the smartest, and so on. But now, he was sliding failing math tests across the table.

He failed both math and English.

Two months flew by. Despite Jiang Xun's frantic studying, the results were still disappointing.

Forty years couldn’t be made up in a day.

Shen Que gave the Young Emperor a comforting pat and kissed his forehead. "It's okay if you don't do well. Wanna tag along to a dig site? I happen to have an excavation project this summer."

Jiang Xun: "What kind of site?"

Shen Que’s eyes darted away briefly. "The rescue excavation for Emperor Wen Jiang Xun's mausoleum."

Jiang Xun: "...?"

My tomb?

That summer, he and the Imperial Tutor arrived at the imperial tomb with shovels in tow.

A heavy rain had caused the river to swell, completely flooding the tomb, which forced them to excavate it.

Shen Que’s students were working up a sweat clearing away the mud. Jiang Xun couldn’t help but say, "There's nothing in this tomb."

He had no burial goods at all.

Unexpectedly, a student rolled their eyes at him. "This is Emperor Wen's tomb! Even empty, it’s worth saving!"

Jiang Xun was stunned silent.

In his past life, he had received no such treatment. Back then, the hated tyrant’s remains would’ve had people cheering if they’d been left to rot in the river.

Shen Que paused his shoveling. Even engaged in such labor, the Imperial Tutor still looked regal. He smiled at Jiang Xun and whispered, "You should see how later generations view you. They love you."

Jiang Xun hesitated. "What about you? What about us?"

What did people say about the emperor and his Imperial Tutor—lovers who broke all the rules?

Was it seen as crazy, scandalous, or what?

Shen Que shook his head. "You should find out for yourself."

In the end, Jiang Xun never looked.

He was too scared, unsure of what he feared. Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, he refused to hear or see. Shortly after returning from the tomb, he threw himself back into the stressful study grind.

...He still had the Gaokao to face.

A prodigy’s still a prodigy, after all. After a year of hard work, Jiang Xun received his acceptance letter from A University the following summer.

Shen Que: "Want to study under me?"

Jiang Xun: "No."

He resolutely chose the history department at the neighboring university instead.

Jiang Xun said firmly, "A professor dating their own student is totally unethical."

—Besides, he really didn’t want to excavate his own tomb again.

Shen Que just sighed and gave in.

During this holiday, Jiang Xun and Shen Que returned to familiar grounds, planning to beat the heat by visiting Jiang Xun's own tomb. A year had passed, and the protective excavation had long concluded. Several reinforced concrete structures now clearly built into a museum stood over the tomb site.

After an emperor's death, trusted ministers were buried nearby. Jiang Xun's resting place wasn’t just his own—it also housed Shen Xiu and Xue Jin.

Standing guard, one to the east and one to the west, they flanked Jiang Xun in the center. The three grand tombs combined into one tourist site.

Some of Shen Que’s books survived the flood, becoming precious research materials, while the preserved remains of Jiang Xun’s loquats were displayed in the museum alongside Shen Xiu and Xue Jin’s burial artifacts for viewing.

Tour buses brought visitors from far and wide to offer incense before the tombs. A glass walkway was installed directly above the shared coffin of Jiang Xun and Shen Que for viewing.

Jiang Xun glanced up and noticed, for some reason, an unusually large number of female tourists on the walkway, all giggling and excited.

A bad feeling crept over him.

This feeling peaked when he saw someone burning handwritten notes.

The girls first made solemn incense offerings, then their expressions grew mischievous. They furtively pulled out slips of paper and burned them with hushed murmurs.

Before leaving, they even left bottles of Wahaha soda and Coke in front of Jiang Xun’s tomb.

"..."

Jiang Xun caught a glimpse of one slip’s title: *"Sharing a Coffin."*

He had a pretty good idea what it was.

That night, as he and Shen Que lay in bed, Jiang Xun sneakily looked up *"Sharing a Coffin"* on his phone under the covers.

Soon, he found himself in a weird forum with thousands of replies.

A: "Everyone, go read *'Sharing a Coffin'*! The prose is so authentically classical—the author’s phrasing alone suggests they must’ve been at least a Tanhua in ancient times. OMG it’s amazing! My ship is real!!!"

B: "This fanfic is wild. It claims the Emperor and the Imperial Tutor shared a coffin, and I thought, ‘As if! Even emperors and empresses had separate coffins—how could this pair, given their status?’ But then the excavation results came out, and no way, it was true!"

C: "Not just you—even the author didn’t expect it. She said she was just making it up, but turns out it was real."

D: "The group chat says the author went to the imperial tomb today to burn incense, lol. She even burned a copy of the fic for His Majesty and the Imperial Tutor to see."

...

None of this caught Jiang Xun’s attention as much as one particular comment.

ghs?: "The spicy scenes are perfection."

Jiang Xun’s interest was piqued.

He dimmed his screen slightly and began reading.

As ghs had said, even with Jiang Xun’s extensive firsthand experience, he had to admit—it was hot!

The more he read, the more delighted he became, completely oblivious to the fact that Shen Que had woken up.

The Imperial Tutor sighed softly.

Jiang Xun, caught up in a steamy passage, nearly dropped his phone in fright.

He hastily stuffed it under his pillow, only to hear Shen Que remark leisurely, "It’s only fanfic. I’ve seen it—the writing’s good."

"..."

Jiang Xun’s phone clattered to the floor.

The Imperial Tutor turned away, granting the poor Young Emperor some privacy. Only when Jiang Xun quietly retrieved his phone did Shen Que add, "That fic’s last line became our ship tagline. I saw it on a banner at a convention—I liked it."

Jiang Xun swiped to the final line.

It read: *"A lifetime as monarch and minister, years spent side by side, a century sharing a coffin, an eternity sharing dreams."*