Chapter 101

Chapter 101

Even after learning these past events, Wen Zuo's heart remained burdened with many unresolved doubts, turning them over and over in his mind without finding clarity.

Why did Consort Chen seclude himself in the Zhe Mountains? Where did his parents go? Did they ever try to search for Lin Yingniang?

Was he born mute and unable to speak, or did he suffer some misfortune later that rendered him mute?

Having lived deep in the mountains for years, without reading, writing, or conversing with outsiders, why would he willingly leave his secluded dwelling to travel a thousand miles back to the capital with Emperor Shunyuan?

Did Emperor Shunyuan know his true identity from the start, or was it only on their wedding night that he discovered, to his shock and fury, that the person by his side was a man, leading him to lock him away in a secluded courtyard lodge?

The maids who helped him change clothes, the matrons who instructed him—each was meticulous and observant. Could none of them have noticed something amiss? Or were they all too afraid, with the wedding date set and the announcement made to the world, to speak the truth? For the sake of the imperial family's dignity, did they grit their teeth and let the mistake continue?

And what of Consort Chen himself? Did he even understand the distinction between male and female, or have any basic awareness of social norms and propriety?

How could he allow himself to reach the point of marrying the Heir Apparent? And did he ever hold any reverence for *Da Qian*'s strict laws?

Finally, there was one minor detail. Lin Yingniang was young when she went missing. The name 'Yingniang' was given by her adoptive parents, and she gradually forgot her original name. So, what was the name of her uncle, who lived under the identity of Consort Chen?

What was his temperament like? What were his joys, angers, sorrows, and worries? Did he know that his own elder sister was living in Liangping County, just half a day's journey from the Zhe Mountains?

For ordinary commoners, life is as insignificant as grass and as fleeting as a mayfly. I'm afraid no one but a celestial immortal could give Wen Zuo the answers.

Yet this did not prevent Wen Zuo from devising a bold plan regarding the troublesome root of *"Evening Mountain Rhapsody."*

His brush hovered above the paper, its tip full of ink, yet he hesitated to write.

He knew his appearance was inherited from Lin Yingniang; their eyes and brows bore a seventy percent resemblance. And since Lin Yingniang and her younger brother were born of the same parents, their faces were likely nearly indistinguishable.

In the sixteenth year of Shunyuan, when the Emperor first saw his face, what truly filled His Majesty's heart—terror, taboo, guilt, or bone-deep longing?

Did the Emperor suspect that he, also hailing from Mianzhou, might be a pawn deliberately placed before the throne by someone who knew of the past?

Could the Emperor, seeing his striking resemblance to Consort Chen, have felt a surge of anger, believing someone was audaciously trying to replace that sacred shadow in his heart?

At that time, dressed in simple cloth and straw sandals, composed and unruffled, he critiqued the current malpractices in the Golden Hall. Did that stir the Emperor's guilt over the early demise of Consort Chen?

Regardless, when Emperor Shunyuan stripped him of the *zhuangyuan* title and banished him to Bozhou, it was likely that taboo and fear held the upper hand.

The Emperor was terrified that the old scandal would be exposed, terrified that the world would learn the person he yearned for was actually a man.

This very fear created a sliver of opportunity to revive what seemed like an intractable situation.

Gazing out the window, Wen Zuo silently prayed that three months later, when Shen Zheng returned to the capital, everything would be utterly calm, as if nothing had ever happened, and they could still be as close and intimate as before.

On the desk in the study, that celadon jar still stood quietly, now completely empty. Wen Zuo extended a fingertip and gently touched the jar's body; the line of crooked brushstrokes was clearly visible.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but he quickly withdrew his hand.

Even if they couldn't be intimate, it was fine. Returning to a teacher-student relationship was acceptable too. His original intention was to present *Da Qian* with a wise and capable ruler for the age, not to satisfy his own base, selfish desires.

As long as the history books could preserve a few words of his unsullied name, he would have no regrets in this life.

He wasn't accustomed to harboring too many extravagant hopes, yet thinking of this, his heart still ached sharply.

Wen Zuo lowered his eyes, suppressed all the chaotic thoughts, lifted his brush, and let the ink flow onto the thin paper.

Half a month passed in a flash.

Along the shores of Jinhai, willow branches framed a sky washed clean and clear. Flocks of gulls circled above the azure waves.

Shen Zheng stood on the shore, in quite a good mood, scattering a handful of biscuit crumbs. He watched as the gulls beat their wings, swooped down to snatch the food, then suddenly soared back into the sky, disappearing into the horizon.

The minor turmoil in the rear palace—Jun Mulan had forbidden anyone from telling Shen Zheng, so he remained completely unaware at this moment.

During these days in Jinhai, he had been in day and night discussions with officials from the Maritime Trade Office, planning matters like the renovation and reinforcement of docks and the construction of canal granaries and storehouses. They had already formulated a practical and feasible plan, which was sent by express courier to the capital for imperial review and approval.

Fortunately, during the reigns of Emperor Zhaoxi and Emperor Kangzhen, the court had already entertained thoughts of opening maritime trade. The shipping route from Nanzhou to Jinhai had long been surveyed, with detailed and accurate navigation charts.

Now, they only needed to dispatch Navy scout ships to retrace the route from Nanzhou to Dengzhou and then to Jinhai. Once verified as correct, they could notify the Ministries of Revenue, Works, War, and the Directorate-General of Water Transport.

With sea charts and renovated docks, the next steps would be to vigorously build maritime vessels, recruit and train sailors, while simultaneously increasing the deployment of warships along the coast, establishing beacon towers to defend against possible pirate incursions at any time.

Today, he had just received Emperor Shunyuan's reply—on the paper was only a single word of complete trust: "Approved."

Two days prior, Mo Shu had sent him a letter stating that the Governor of Songzhou had incited multiple officials to jointly submit a memorial condemning his maritime trade policy as a foolish strategy that would harm the state and leave endless troubles. They earnestly requested the Emperor to immediately recall him to the capital and terminate the maritime trade process.

Now it seemed Emperor Shunyuan's determination to promote maritime trade remained unshaken.

Thanks to his ten years as a hostage in Nanping and only two years in the capital, with achievements limited to the Spring Terrace Chess Association and disaster relief in Mianzhou, he had no vulnerabilities to exploit. Even though the water transport interest group hated him to the core, they could only watch helplessly.

Mo Shu's letter also mentioned that Wen Zuo suggested thoroughly uprooting these most vocal water transport officials without mercy. Otherwise, they would surely defect to other princes, support a new emperor's ascension, and then completely shut down the maritime trade route.

Reading this passage, Shen Zheng sensed that ruthless decisiveness between the lines and couldn't help but recall the terrifying symbol from the annals of *Qian History*.

Indeed, the little cat-traitor's style remained as formidable as ever.

Shen Zheng smiled, immediately picked up his brush to reply to Mo Shu. The letter contained only five words: "As the teacher advises."

Having read so much history and witnessed so many brutal struggles in the arena of power, Shen Zheng was no naive, innocent fool.

He understood better than anyone that all admirable qualities and political aspirations only held meaning when one held great authority. Otherwise, they were merely empty talk.

Wen Zuo only sent a letter to remind Mo Shu, not telling him directly, probably afraid he would be caught in a dilemma.

Wen Zuo was willing to use his own reputation as the price to leave him a way out. If someone brought up the old matter in the future, he could pretend ignorance and extricate himself.

He treasured this sentiment, but he would absolutely not treat Wen Zuo as a sharp blade to be discarded after use.

Replying meant he knew, he agreed, he was not innocent.

The carrier pigeon Shen Zheng brought for messages had its nest at the Marquis of Yongning's residence. So, he deliberately divided the letters into two types: black characters on white paper for his grandfather, and white characters on black paper for Wen Zuo.

The letter to his grandfather could be read by anyone. The one for Wen Zuo, however, must not be glimpsed by others; it needed to be sent immediately to the Wen residence via the Marquis's secret passage.

Hearing these instructions, the Marquis of Yongning stroked his long beard beneath his chin and said with an approving smile, "Huaishen, look. His Highness's conduct is increasingly befitting a wise ruler. Even with flesh and blood relatives, he distinguishes between public and private. What he says to me, to you, and to Mulan are all personal, warm chit-chat. With Master Wen, I'm afraid it's about discussing the new maritime trade policy."

Jun Dingyuan's gaze fell on the thick scroll of letters, then glanced at the carrier pigeon that had nearly died of exhaustion on the way. He couldn't help but frown slightly: "Really?"

Every time Wen Zuo unfolded Shen Zheng's tightly rolled letters, he had to hold the pages up to the sunlight to make out the densely packed, tiny characters squeezed together—

"What was Wanshan doing when you received this letter? Were you buried in official documents, studying diligently by lamplight, or leaning against the bed, fast asleep? The scenery and specialties of Jinhai are exceptional. Fresh fish dart like shuttles beside the boats. I so want you to taste them. Your husband loves you."

"Have you finished the cotton candy? I imagine the teacher is honest and keeps promises, so you sent a letter only on the sixth day. Actually, I was hoping you'd be disobedient, so I'd have an excuse to tease you... Your husband loves you."

"The dock construction is progressing well. Navy recruitment is also going smoothly. Coastal shipyards, hearing the news, are vying to expand their scale. Using work for relief is showing significant results. Perhaps in the future, I can take you on a tour along the coast for a vacation. Your husband loves you."

"I know about the matter the teacher reminded Mo Shu of. In extraordinary times, employ thunderous methods. Glory, blame, honor, and disgrace—I will bear them all with you. Don't hide things from me. Let me say it again, don't hide things from me. Your husband loves you."

"Today I was busy outside, under the scorching sun, and tanned three shades darker, robbed of my former gallant bearing. Thinking of your divine poise and noble countenance, I can't help but feel anxious. Also, your reply to me was too short—next time it must not be shorter than mine. With love, your devoted one."

Wen Zuo folded and stacked the letters neatly and placed them in a brocade box, feeling somewhat troubled.

Unlike Shen Zheng's brief missive, such a long letter was truly too much for the carrier pigeon.

He leaned over the desk, picked up his brush, and forcibly suppressed his usual strict requirements for handwriting and composition, minimizing each character as much as possible, yet still ending up one sentence shorter than Shen Zheng's.

Regarding Shen Zheng's concern about getting tanned, he pondered briefly and offered timely comfort: "Your Highness's heroic bearing is like a stalwart pine towering over a ravine, aloof and transcendent. As your teacher, my heart is captivated at the sight and I think of it day and night."

-

In stark contrast to Shen Zheng's high spirits, Shen Chen had been confined to the back room for half a month, resembling a molting, emaciated pigeon, utterly disheveled.

The imperial physician carved a prosthetic tooth from deer antler for him, mounted on a dental base, barely filling the gap left by his missing front tooth.

However, this tooth had to be bound with thin iron wire to the neighboring sound teeth. While it didn't hinder ordinary eating and drinking, it remained awkward and peculiar, becoming a lifelong flaw he could never reconcile himself to.

Every day, while he was still tossing and turning in bed, Shen Ting next door would deliberately belt out a song, taunting and provoking him with a tune called "Drunken Peace."

"...Searching for peas in a quail's crop, slicing lean meat from a heron's leg, scraping fat from a mosquito's belly. How could you, old sir, bring yourself to do such things!"

Shen Chen listened, seething with rage, fuming. He abruptly kicked the wall, only to be jolted by the sharp pain in his toes. Groping around, he grabbed a handful of broken stones from the corner and hurled them toward the neighboring room, but failed to even graze the hem of Shen Ting's garment.

Shen Ting deliberately added sarcastic remarks: "Fool can't hit! Fool can't hit!"

After saying this, he tossed the stones back the same way.

Furious, Shen Chen tried to throw them back again but suddenly felt his hand wet and sticky. Upon sniffing, his palm reeked of a foul odor—clearly, Shen Ting had doused the stones with something foul.

Shen Chen had never suffered such humiliation in his life. In his past life as emperor, even his underwear was perfumed daily with storax.

That day, he didn't touch a single grain of rice. He washed his hands over and over in cold water, soaked them repeatedly, yet still felt so disgusted he felt like chopping them off.

He cursed at Shen Ting, who retaliated with even sharper and cruder language. In terms of roguery and venom, no one could match this Third Prince.

Since Shen Ting had abandoned his ambition to ascend the throne, he had completely let himself go, not bothering to maintain even a shred of the demeanor of a refined scholar, acting instead like an out-and-out hoodlum.

After all, Shen Chen had once been an emperor, even if only for a month. He couldn't bring himself to stoop to Shen Ting's level and retaliate in kind.

Day after day, he endured that brain-piercing singing, blaming Gong, Luo, Xie, and others for their incompetence and uselessness, unable to devise a plan to rescue him.

On the courtyard wall of the back room, he scratched one vertical mark after another with broken stones, keeping track of the days this way. Each day felt like a torment, his heart aflame with anxiety, clawed by torment from within.

Every night, when all was quiet, he wished he could grow wings, fly over this confined courtyard wall, rush straight into the Hall of Martial Valor, grab someone, and demand a clear account of the major court affairs.

The struggle for the throne had reached a critical juncture. Sitting idle like this was far too passive!

After enduring until the eighteenth day, Shen Chen suddenly heard a woman's low call from outside a dog hole mostly concealed by overgrown weeds in the back room.

Instantly invigorated, he scrambled over, pressing his voice low and cautiously testing: "Is that Jinjin?"

Disregarding all formalities, Shen Chen hurriedly reached out to push aside the tangled grass at the hole's entrance, bringing his face so close he nearly bumped into the moss-covered, chipped corner.

"Jinjin, skip the pleasantries! Quickly tell me, have there been any major events at court recently? What is Shen Zheng's situation over in Jinhai?"

"The court has been relatively stable. However, my father received a memorial from Jinhai at the Grand Secretariat. The Fifth Prince now holds the maritime charts, and even the construction plans for the docks and granaries are complete. Construction can begin any day. Currently, he is recruiting sailors and has specifically communicated with Lord Mo in Songzhou, stating that any canal workers willing to relocate to the coast can enter government-run training schools to become sailors. Former canal officials without records of corruption can also be enlisted into the navy, enjoying generous pay and provisions. This way, opposition from the millions of canal workers has diminished significantly. Coupled with Lord Mo's swift and decisive suppression measures, the Governor of Songzhou likely won't hold out much longer."

"There's one more thing. Some time ago, Consort Liang somehow angered His Majesty and was ordered to reflect, with her monthly allowance reduced and her authority to assist in managing the rear palace revoked. However, this matter seemed all bark and no bite. Not only did Consort Liang take it calmly in stride, but she even put on some weight. Concubine Yi wanted to seize the opportunity to add fuel to the fire, but due to the uproar over Your Highness's incident, His Majesty simply refused to see her."

Shen Chen's eyes darted around. He couldn't immediately grasp the reason behind Consort Liang angering the Emperor, but that wasn't the pressing issue. What made him restless now was Shen Zheng's rapid progress.

"Never mind Consort Liang's matter. The most urgent concern now is Shen Zheng! Father clearly already favors him, which is why I'm locked up here. These two months are our final opportunity!" Seized by frantic anxiety, Shen Chen desperately thrust his arm through the dog hole, groping around until he finally touched a pair of soft, slender hands.

He clutched them tightly, as if grasping his last lifeline, his voice thick with desperate hope: "Jinjin, quickly tell your sister: no matter what means she uses, she must force Xie Langyang to present the 'Evening Mountain Rhapsody' to the Emperor in front of all court officials!"

Gong Jinjin's heart pounded wildly. She hurriedly grasped Shen Chen's hand in return and responded: "I understand, Your Highness!"

Shen Chen pulled her closer and continued: "Listen, once Wen Zuo is imprisoned, immediately send someone to deliver the news to Jinhai. If Shen Zheng, in a moment of desperation, rushes back to the capital for Wen Zuo's sake without authorization, then Wen Zuo's identity as a lone loyal minister will collapse of its own accord. Once the Emperor realizes he has been deceived, he will show no more mercy. And Shen Zheng will inevitably fall under His Majesty's suspicion and disdain. This way, we can kill two birds with one stone!"