PTCQT Chapter 28

Dou Yun was still troubled, while atop the dragon throne, Feng Feibai kept his eyes on Shen Chun, who was speaking with the court officials. Noticing the glimmer of amusement in Shen Chun’s eyes when the topic of cut sleeves and shared peaches came up, he grew even more curious.

Though the new emperor had ascended the throne, he now had an additional daily task unlike emperors before him: visiting the imperial study.

The study housed a great many books, but finding the right one was no easy task. Feng Feibai climbed the ladder and sifted through the labeled tomes himself, firmly refusing the young eunuchs’ offers to help him search.

At the time, the gazes of the officials were all subtly strange, even the Right Minister blushed. Clearly, it wasn’t a topic that could be openly discussed in court.

Cut sleeves and shared peaches? What exactly does that mean? If he were to ask the National Teacher… no, no, absolutely not.

The young emperor was busy searching for books in the archive and failed to notice the door quietly opening from the outside. A tall figure stepped inside.

The soft rustle of bamboo scrolls being flipped echoed in the room. Following the sound, Shen Chun walked over. He stopped at the base of a tall bookshelf, looking up at the young emperor, who had practically buried half his body into it.

“Ah, found it!” The young emperor, perched above, seemed to have discovered something intriguing. His voice was laced with excitement as he opened the bamboo scroll and muttered to himself, “Shared peaches… shared peaches… men…”

“Your Majesty, what are you reading?” Shen Chun’s voice suddenly interrupted his focus.

The moment the words rang out, the young emperor, who was halfway leaned into the bookshelf, whipped around in surprise. Upon seeing Shen Chun, panic flashed across his face. He instinctively tried to hide the bamboo scroll he had just found, but in his flustered state, he forgot he was still standing on the ladder. One misstep, and he lost his footing, falling down.

Falling from such a height, he was surely bound for a hard landing. Feng Feibai instinctively shut his eyes in panic, but instead of pain, he found himself caught in a warm embrace, gently jostled but completely unharmed.

As Shen Chun moved, the wide sleeves of his robe fluttered down gracefully, and even the beaded hair ornament slipped loose, scattering across his chest. Feng Feibai clutched his collar tightly, pupils dilated from shock, only for a sharp pain to suddenly strike his forehead.

With a loud thwack, the bamboo scroll that had started all this smacked him on the head and dropped to the floor.

“Ow!” Feng Feibai cried out, clutching his forehead.

Shen Chun chuckled softly and set him down with one hand, then casually picked up the fallen bamboo scroll and glanced over its contents.

There was nothing scandalous in it, it simply recounted how Mizi Xia, favored by the ruler, once offered him a half-eaten peach, which the ruler accepted and saw as a sign of love. But when Mizi Xia’s beauty faded and the ruler’s affection waned, he instead condemned the act as arrogant, how dare someone offer him leftovers?¹Mizi Xia was a beautiful youth favored by Duke Ling of Wei (衛靈公). One day, Mizi Xia was eating a peach, found it delicious, and offered the half-eaten remainder to the Duke, saying he wanted him to taste its sweetness. The Duke accepted it gladly, touched by Mizi Xia’s affection and thoughtfulness. However, later when Mizi Xia’s beauty faded and the Duke’s favor cooled, the same gesture was reinterpreted maliciously. The Duke said Mizi Xia had been “so arrogant as to offer me his leftovers”, turning what had once been a sign of love into an offense.

When beauty fades, so does love. Such was the way of the world, a tale meant to serve as a caution.

Feng Feibai, still clutching his sore forehead, looked up at the scroll in Shen Chun’s hands with unease in his eyes. After a moment, he spoke hesitantly, “Beloved Minister…”

Shen Chun chuckled upon hearing the address. He rolled up the bamboo scroll and lightly tapped the boy on the forehead with it. “This book is hereby confiscated. You are not to read it until you come of age.”

“You, how dare you be so brazenly disrespectful!” Feng Feibai’s eyes widened in outrage.

Shen Chun tapped the scroll against his own palm, while the young emperor rubbed his forehead and mumbled, “Why… why can’t I read it?”

Mother was right, he thought. I really do need to behave. But to think the Son of Heaven got smacked in the head by a bamboo scroll… how humiliating!

“When Your Majesty comes of age, if you still wish to read it, I will gladly present it to you,” Shen Chun said as he tucked the bamboo scroll into his sleeve.

He was fairly certain about Duo Yun that not everyone was naturally inclined toward the same sex, but when it came to the young emperor, it was harder to say. If no influence was exerted before he reached adulthood, and he ended up liking women, then both sides would be content.

Things might not turn out as simply as he hoped, but he had to try. As for whatever complications came afterward, then let gods be slain if they stand in the way, and Buddhas too.

“I understand,” Feng Feibai said. Though still curious, he restrained himself. “Beloved Minister, why have you come here?”

“Naturally, I came to find Your Majesty,” Shen Chun replied, lowering his gaze to meet his. “The National Teacher mentioned that Your Majesty hadn’t shown up at the study on time.”

Feng Feibai’s face flushed slightly, tinged with a hint of frustration. “What time is it now?”

“It’s already midday,” Shen Chun answered.

The study session had been scheduled for the third quarter of the si-hour²The “si-hour” (巳時) refers to the period from 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m so it’s around 10:00 to 10:30 a.m. in modern time, but now more than half an hour had already passed.

“I merely lost track of time,” Feng Feibai said, fingers interlacing nervously as he looked up at Shen Chun’s expression. “I’ll make up for it, I won’t let it happen again.”

The young emperor was clearly ashamed, but just as clearly hadn’t quite learned how to properly admit fault. His face was tinged with a soft blush, making him look all the more delicate and charming, like jade dusted with snow.

Shen Chun reached out and gently pinched his still-chubby cheek. As the young emperor stared up at him in wide-eyed astonishment, Shen Chun said, “The National Teacher has already returned. Since the back-and-forth would only delay things further, why don’t I teach Your Majesty today, reading and writing?”

“I’ve heard that you excel in Feibai script, Beloved Minister,” Feng Feibai said, a trace of anticipation in his voice. But then he remembered his mother’s teachings and added cautiously, “But I’ve been studying regular script.”

“I can write regular script as well,” Shen Chun replied with a gentle smile.

Feibai was a style known for its flowing elegance and free-spirited flair, hardly aligned with the structured discipline of regular script. Emperor Wenhe had named the young emperor Feibai, perhaps in the hope that he might live his life freely and unrestrained. And yet fate had other plans. No matter what he did, Feng Feibai would remain bound within the confines of the palace, spending his life adhering to its unyielding rules.

Just as the system had said, since he was still only a child, it was right to let him enjoy some of the joys of youth. Even if, later on, it turned out he wasn’t suited to be an emperor, then they could simply choose someone more fitting when the time came.

“Truly?” Feng Feibai’s face lit up with anticipation.

“Truly,” Shen Chun replied with a smile.

The study wasn’t far. The emperor and his minister walked side by side, though Shen Chun kept half a step behind, a quiet show of respect. Even so, the young emperor kept glancing back every few steps, as if to make sure Shen Chun was still there.

By the time they arrived at the study, the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were all already set out. The young emperor knelt properly at the desk, while Shen Chun rolled up his sleeves and began grinding the ink for him. “Your Majesty, write a few characters first. Let me see how solid your foundation is.”

His fingers were long and elegant, and he held the ink stick with ease as he gently ground it against the stone. Though his knuckles bore visible calluses, they didn’t take away from the beauty of his hands, in fact, they made Feng Feibai stare all the more.

He had practiced calligraphy before, with palace servants, eunuchs, or even his mother preparing the ink for him. But the women’s fingers were slender and delicate, and the eunuchs’ were often rough and thick. None of their hands were as pleasing to the eye as Shen Chun’s. As for his father, though he had showered him with affection, it had only ever been in the form of rewards and gifts. He had never done such things for him personally.

Feng Feibai picked up the brush and began to write with great care. Though he had started practicing calligraphy at the age of three, never before had he approached it with such earnest focus. Once he finished writing a few characters, he let out a small breath of relief and looked toward Shen Chun, his eyes filled with a trace of expectation and nervousness, even if he himself wasn’t fully aware of it.

Shen Chun studied the neat, well-formed strokes and, after a moment of thought, smiled. “Your Majesty’s writing is quite impressive.”

The young emperor couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but then, as if suddenly remembering something, he forced the expression down. Even so, a subtle pride still glimmered in his eyes. “Naturally, I’ve been practicing diligently.”

“But when it comes to calligraphy, there’s no need to rigidly pursue stiffness and symmetry,” Shen Chun said as he picked up a brush, let it soak in ink, and set it to the paper. His strokes flowed like drifting clouds and flowing water, though written in regular script, each character remained precise, yet carried his unique elegance and ease.

Feng Feibai watched, utterly entranced. The characters seemed to come alive beneath Shen Chun’s brush. When he looked back at his own writing in comparison, it felt stiff, like lifeless, dried wood, devoid of spirit.

A faint blush crept onto the young emperor’s cheeks. Thinking himself subtle, he quietly slipped his own sheet of paper away and crumpled it into a ball. Only shame lingered in his eyes now. “Beloved Minister, your calligraphy is truly beautiful.”

He had always assumed Shen Chun came from a military background, so even if he could write, it would be just barely passable. Never had he imagined how limited his own view had been.

“Your Majesty is still young. By the time you reach my age, you’ll be able to write just as well,” Shen Chun said gently, noting the little one’s embarrassed expression.

Feng Feibai looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really,” Shen Chun replied with a smile.

Feng Feibai was still very young. Even in the study, the National Teacher would only have him practice calligraphy or recite the Four Books and Five Classics, matters of state were never discussed.

But with Shen Chun here, things were different. After guiding him through half an hour of calligraphy, Shen Chun set aside the classics and instead had someone bring over official memorials.

Feng Feibai had been thoroughly enjoying the peaceful time spent practicing calligraphy, but the moment he saw the memorials, he instinctively straightened his posture and sat upright. “Beloved Minister… the National Teacher usually only teaches the Four Books…”

Since the goal was to keep a low profile and bide time, it was only natural not to expose him to state affairs too early.

“The Four Books are already being taught by the National Teacher. As for these memorials, though they are matters of governance, they are originally meant for Your Majesty to read. For now, I’ve taken care of the decisions. You don’t need to make judgments, just read,” Shen Chun explained.

In other dynasties across different worlds, it was not uncommon for child emperors to ascend the throne. With heavy burdens placed on them, they often matured quickly. Shen Chun had no intention of forcing unnatural growth, but there were certain things the young emperor ought to start understanding early.

“Yes,” Feng Feibai replied, taking a deep breath before picking up one of the memorials. Still, his gaze drifted toward Shen Chun’s face.

“Your Majesty, there’s nothing written on my face,” Shen Chun said with a small smile, having noticed the look.

Feng Feibai quickly averted his eyes and focused on the memorial instead.

The minister’s writing was full of archaic expressions and classical turns of phrase, and the document itself was quite lengthy. Though Feng Feibai recognized many characters, there were parts that were still difficult for him to follow. He glanced over at Shen Chun and whispered, “Beloved Minister… I don’t recognize this word.”

Shen Chun glanced over and explained, “Zuo, it refers to the sovereign’s position or reign.”

“Thank you, Beloved Minister,” Feng Feibai said, then continued reading, trying to make sense of the passage in context. But he stumbled frequently, and each time he had to ask, the blush on his face deepened.

“…Enough. I’ll read it to Your Majesty,” Shen Chun said at last, noticing the young emperor’s cheeks now flushed bright red. He got up and sat behind him, leaning slightly forward as he read the memorial aloud line by line, eyes following the spread-open document before them.

It was a habitual gesture, one commonly used when teaching a child. But this kind of closeness left the young emperor frozen in place, his whole body tense as if he might lift off the ground. He wasn’t afraid, exactly, yet he couldn’t quite name the reason for the tightness in his chest.

Shen Chun’s tone was calm and steady. Whenever they came across a difficult character, he would pause and ask. The young emperor didn’t know many of them, but once explained, he would remember them clearly the next time they appeared. That kind of sharpness pleased Shen Chun quite a bit.

He had traveled through many worlds to complete his missions, but he rarely had to care for a child. Even when fate brought one across his path, he’d usually offer some silver and entrust them to someone else. If he ever did raise one personally, it was more a hands-off approach than anything. This, sitting down and patiently guiding a child step by step, was a first for him. And surprisingly, he found it… rather nice.

Perhaps it was simply because the child was so endearing that Shen Chun found himself a little more patient than usual.

His fingers occasionally tapped lightly on the memorials as he read, a faint trace of incense clinging to his sleeves. Surrounded by that subtle fragrance, Feng Feibai tried to focus on the content, but still, his gaze kept drifting toward those hands. He couldn’t help but wonder: if a red jade thumb ring were worn on such a hand, would it look especially striking?

“Your Majesty, focus,” Shen Chun reminded him calmly.

“Yes.” Feng Feibai quickly pulled himself back to attention, forcing his eyes to stay on the page.

They had read through memorials for half an hour before Shen Chun rose when the palace maids arrived with lunch. Feng Feibai, who had never been so deeply engaged in studying before, looked up at him and asked, “Beloved Minister, where are you going?”

“It is time for Your Majesty to take your meal. I shall take my leave,” Shen Chun replied with a slight gesture. Behind him, attendants stepped forward to gather the stack of memorials.

A quiet sense of disappointment welled up in Feng Feibai’s chest, but he still remembered his etiquette. “Take care, Beloved Minister. See Minister Shen out.”

Shen Chun had arrived suddenly, and left just as suddenly. In the past, Feng Feibai had always looked forward to mealtimes, it was his only escape from the tedious drone of drawn-out, lifeless lectures filled with “zhi hu zhe ye.”³dry, boring Confucian talk. But now, even with the table laid full of dishes, he found himself with little appetite.

He wondered quietly to himself: Will he come again tomorrow?

Shen Chun, for his part, didn’t notice the young emperor’s changing moods. At eight years old, a child could already understand quite a bit. The late emperor had been wary of everything, and the empress dowager treated him with a similar kind of distance. What he was taught day to day revolved around keeping a low profile, guarding his words and actions. But a child’s thoughts are never easy to hide. That blend of suppressed emotion and barely contained curiosity, so instinctive and unpolished, was, in its own way, the most fascinating thing of all.

There was merit in being able to restrain oneself, after all, a ruler’s emotions should never be easily read or manipulated.

After finishing his meal, Shen Chun still had much to attend to. Matters of the people’s livelihood were of utmost importance, and every decision carried consequences, none could be made lightly.

At the same time, Dou Yun had begun reviewing cases of corrupt officials. It wasn’t originally his duty to handle such matters, but since he had taken on the responsibility, it was only right to determine each case’s severity with proper discretion.

The records from the Ministry of Justice were stacked at his side. After just a brief glance, Dou Yun was already frowning. Embezzling public funds, seizing land at will, collusion between higher and lower officials, the buying and selling of posts, it was everywhere. Even a minor county magistrate dared to steal one hundred thousand taels of disaster relief funds from the court. And to cover up his crimes, the killing of innocent civilians had become disturbingly routine.

“Lord Prime Minister, please have some tea,” said one of the guards from the Ministry of Justice as he stepped forward and offered a cup.

“Thank you,” Dou Yun replied, but even those two words sounded like they were being ground out between clenched teeth.

The guard froze for a moment, then quickly shrank back and retreated. Only after stepping outside did he finally let out a long, heavy breath.

A fellow officer, seeing the look on his face, chuckled. “Sent you to serve tea to the Prime Minister, did they? You look like you’ve just come back from being tortured.”

“Lord Prime Minister looks like he’s ready to kill someone, how could I not walk in with my neck drawn in and my heart pounding?” the guard muttered.

“You did something wrong? Wasn’t it always said that Right Prime Minister Dou has a good temper?” his colleague asked.

“As if that’s possible,” the guard scoffed.

Inside, Dou Yun continued flipping through memorial after memorial, his fury building with every page. By the time he reached the end of what had been submitted so far, the pressure in his chest had nowhere left to go, it had become a seething rage with no outlet.

He was a scholar, one taught in the ways of propriety, where a gentleman reasoned with words, not fists. Everything, in theory, could be resolved with logic and principle. And yet now, he found himself unable to suppress the violent fury rising within him. He wanted nothing more than to beat those corrupt officials with his own fists, to confront them directly and demand how they could be so utterly devoid of conscience.

For people like this… it felt as if only their deaths could bring satisfaction.

Weigh severity with fairness, they said. But how? How was he supposed to show restraint in the face of such cruelty?

…

“Marshal, the military commanders stationed in the fiefdoms of Prince Huai and Prince Qi have all been quietly reassigned,” Liang Wendong reported.

“Good.” Shen Chun rubbed his fingers thoughtfully. “Those princes have stayed in the capital far too long. Send word, they’re to return to their domains in three days.”

“…Marshal…” Liang Wendong hesitated for a moment.

“Speak,” Shen Chun said calmly.

Liang Wendong fell to his knees. “If we send them back now, it’s no different from releasing tigers back to the mountains. Even if, in the future… even if the only one left standing is the young emperor, those princes will still claim the banner of righteousness. It will not be to your advantage, should you ever… ascend the throne.”

“When have I ever said I wanted that position?” Shen Chun looked at him. “And when did you begin harboring thoughts of treason?”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it made Liang Wendong’s heart clench even tighter. “Subordinate has no such intent,” he said quickly, lowering his head further. “I simply don’t understand, why would the Marshal go to such lengths for the imperial family?”

If he wasn’t doing it for the throne, then wasn’t all his effort just paving the way for someone else?

Shen Chun couldn’t exactly explain the mission to him, but becoming emperor was never where his heart lay. “Get up.”

Liang Wendong saw the look in his eyes and felt a faint sense of relief as he rose to his feet. “Marshal…”

“I truly have no desire for the throne,” Shen Chun said. “The only reason I’ve assumed the regency is to spare the people from the suffering of chaos and displacement. Rather than remain trapped for life in this tiny capital, I’d much prefer galloping freely across the northwestern deserts.” He stepped to Liang Wendong’s side and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t bring this up again.”

Liang Wendong’s heart trembled faintly. He cupped his hands and bowed. “It was shallow of me. Holding the capital, such a post is beneath you, Marshal.”

Yes… The Marshal was a great eagle of the desert, born to soar above the northern frontier, bound by no one, not even the emperor. Now caged in this gilded palace, his wings could no longer stretch. It was a grievance.

Shen Chun: “…”

He didn’t actually feel wronged. The desert had its freedoms, and the capital had its wealth and order. Whatever the place, if he held a position there, he would fulfill its responsibilities. There was nothing to feel aggrieved about.

If he truly minded, he wouldn’t have accepted the mission in the first place.

[Host, it seems General Liang has misunderstood something,] 521 said.

[Let him.] Shen Chun smiled.

Misunderstandings didn’t matter, loyalty was what truly counted. As long as that misunderstanding didn’t lead to someone taking matters into their own hands and attempting to usurp the throne, everything was fine.

If he really did end up with the throne, the one suffering would be him.

“Your Highness, Right Prime Minister Dou requests an audience,” a guard came to report hastily.

“So he’s finally come.” Shen Chun smiled faintly upon hearing this and turned back to take his seat.

“I thought Right Prime Minister Dou always kept his distance from the Marshal?” Liang Wendong asked.

“This is about something else. Let him in,” Shen Chun replied with a light smile.

The Prince Yi Residence was not overly lavish, yet it wasn’t as bare and austere as a typical military compound either. Though modest, its design was thoughtful, every step offered a pleasing view, the balance between simplicity and ornamentation perfectly struck.

But Dou Yun had no mind to admire the scenery. He entered briskly, and upon seeing Shen Chun, immediately dropped to his knees. “Your servant has come to confess his guilt.”

“And what guilt does the Right Prime Minister bear?” Shen Chun asked, his gaze calmly falling on the man kneeling before him.

A gentleman’s propriety demanded spotless robes and dignified composure, Dou Yun had always upheld such standards, never once appearing anything less than impeccable. But now, after only a few days apart, the Right Prime Minister of the realm knelt before Shen Chun with wrinkled robes, hair slightly disheveled, cracked lips, and bloodshot eyes, clearly sleep-deprived, and having come in great haste.

“Before, when I spoke of weighing corruption with measured judgment, I was merely speaking in theory, words on paper,” Dou Yun said, looking up to meet Shen Chun’s eyes. “But after seeing it for myself, the corruption, the exploitation, the way these officials have harmed the people, they deserve nothing less than death!”

Emperor Wenhe had indeed been kind and lenient, always gentle in his dealings. But that very softness had allowed corruption to spread unchecked, plunging the people into suffering. In contrast, Prince Yi’s decisiveness and uncompromising enforcement brought swift and lasting deterrence, ensuring no one would dare overstep the line again.

He had taken too much for granted.

Shen Chun let out a quiet laugh at Dou Yun’s words. Though the man was stubborn, his loyalty to the throne bordering on blind devotion, his heart was wholly devoted to the country and its people. That made him someone worth keeping close. With just a bit of proper guidance, many future troubles could be avoided.

Shen Chun rose to his feet and personally reached out to help Dou Yun up. “Right Prime Minister Dou, you understand me well. I daresay we can consider each other, at the very least, kindred spirits.”

Shen Chun stood half a head taller than Dou Yun, his arms steady and strong. Even when Dou Yun abruptly stood and felt his vision dim, he remained upright, supported firmly by Shen Chun’s grasp.

In Yong Dynasty fashion, elegance in men was prized, with long sleeves considered the pinnacle of grace. Yet as Dou Yun observed the man before him, his robes neat, not a single fold out of place, every gesture still carried an effortless charm. Unlike others who pursued the appearance of refinement, this man possessed its very essence.

“Thank you,” Dou Yun said, stepping back and cupping his hands in respect.

Because of the pointed questions this man had asked in court, rumors had begun to swirl through the capital about whether he had a fondness for men. Dou Yun himself admired noble character, but his affections had always leaned toward women. And yet, beauty was not always bound by gender, when it came to someone like Prince Yi, even a man who originally preferred women might find his heart unsettled after spending too much time in his presence.

Still… he couldn’t help but wonder: were the rumors that Prince Yi favored men actually true?

“Since we’ve agreed there’s no more need to show leniency,” Shen Chun said, lowering his hand, “the executions in the capital will be handled by you, Right Prime Minister Dou.” He walked over to the desk and retrieved two memorials. “This should help relieve some of the frustration in your heart. Furthermore, with the new emperor’s accession and a shortage of officials, a special imperial examination has been granted. I’ll entrust this matter to you as well, better to keep the court stable and avoid unrest throughout Yong.”

Dou Yun accepted the execution duty without hesitation. Though he was not accustomed to bloodshed, the thought of those corrupt officials being beheaded brought only a deep sense of satisfaction.

What surprised him, however, was that Shen Chun had not assigned the exam arrangements to his own men.

But since the matter served the country’s interest, Dou Yun said no more. He simply cupped his hands and bowed. “Since Your Highness entrusts me with it, I shall not let you down.”

“Ah, and there’s one more thing, about Right Prime Minister Dou’s marriage,” Shen Chun said, his expression turning slightly awkward. “One of my generals holds you in high regard, and his daughter is of age and quite fond of you…”

Dou Yun’s heart gave a jolt. He quickly responded, “Your Highness honors me, but my family has already begun arranging a marriage for me. I am but a humble man and only wish for a marriage founded on mutual respect. I wouldn’t dare wrong your general’s daughter, nor let my future wife feel neglected. I beg Your Highness’ understanding.”

“A pity, then,” Shen Chun said lightly.

“Indeed,” Dou Yun replied, though inwardly he was restless. He was already thinking that the marriage should truly be arranged soon, lest he continue being… urged about it.

“If Your Highness has no further orders, I shall take my leave,” Dou Yun added.

“Take care, Right Prime Minister Dou.” Shen Chun watched his hastily retreating figure, a faint smile playing at his lips.

[Seems like no one likes being pushed into marriage.] 521 remarked.

[That’s true.] Shen Chun replied.

To spend a lifetime together… there should be at least some affection. If strangers are simply paired off, then in a life already so brief, what remains is only regret.

“Marshal,” Liang Wendong, who had been eavesdropping from the side, hesitated before saying, “Right Prime Minister Dou is already nineteen and discussing marriage. Marshal, you’re eighteen yourself, shouldn’t you start considering it? It wouldn’t be too early to begin.”

Liang Wendong had followed Shen Chun since childhood. With Shen Chun’s parents long gone, matters like this were something he could speak on without overstepping.

Shen Chun glanced at him and said lazily, “It seems the wheel of fate always turns.”

521 quietly recorded a video: Those who urge marriage shall one day be urged themselves.

Liang Wendong blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” Shen Chun replied with a faint smile. “I prefer men. I won’t be marrying a woman.”

Liang Wendong’s pupils dilated instantly, clearly stunned. “Marshal… Marshal prefers men?!”

“I do,” Shen Chun replied, amused by his expression.

Liang Wendong stammered, then seemed to have an epiphany. “No wonder Marshal never took to women even at the border. I’ll arrange someone suitable at once, there are plenty of talented young men in the capital. You can take your pick.”

Shen Chun raised an eyebrow, his gaze trailing slowly down Liang Wendong’s figure. He smiled. “I’m not fond of scholars. I prefer someone like General Liang, tight flesh, strong build… just right.”

Liang Wendong’s bronze-colored face instantly turned bright red, every muscle in his body tensing. “I-I prefer… women…”

Halfway through his sentence, he suddenly clenched his jaw, closed his eyes, and declared with the resolve of a man facing death, “But if it’s to ease the Marshal’s burdens, then I, your humble subordinate, will accept whatever is needed!”

“Hahahaha…” Shen Chun couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He sank into his chair, propping his head up with one hand. “Enough teasing. I may like men, but that doesn’t mean just anyone will do. With the current situation unsettled, I’ve no time for such matters.” He paused, the laughter still lingering in his eyes. “As for the rumors in the streets, no need to suppress them. Let them talk.”

Though he was among those who suspected Dou Yun’s homosexuality, asking such questions openly inevitably stirred up scandalous gossip. Some began to whisper that Shen Chun’s intention wasn’t truly to find a wife for Dou Yun, but rather that he desired Dou Yun himself, to take him as a favored companion.

Faced with such rumors, Dou Yun was desperate to avoid them and simply wished to marry as soon as possible.

It wasn’t that marriage would end Dou Yun’s feelings entirely, he was a stubborn and principled man, but once married, he would remain faithful and refuse any entanglements outside his wife. In the original world, Feng Feibai’s repeated invitations had been based on the premise that Dou Yun was unmarried and that their feelings were mutual. If Dou Yun were already wed, Feng Feibai would likely disdain forcing such a relationship.

If he dares to make a move, just break his legs.

“Marshal, could it be that you like Right Prime Minister Dou?” Liang Wendong boldly guessed.

Shen Chun raised his eyelids and looked at him. “Today, you’d better spend four hours training at the martial grounds, so you don’t have too much idle time to let your mind wander.”

Liang Wendong’s words caught, but he still bowed. “Your subordinate will obey.”

If Shen Chun didn’t like Dou Yun, why would he let rumors run wild outside?

The Marshal’s heart was like a needle deep beneath the sea, impossible to read.

As Shen Chun pressed repeatedly about the marriage, Dou Yun dared not delay any longer. In a short time, countless portraits of eligible ladies were sent to the right chancellor’s residence.

Dou Yun’s mother carefully examined each one, gently scolding, “You said before you absolutely refused to marry, insisting a man should establish himself before starting a family. Now suddenly you’re rushing to wed. The girls we once had in mind have already married off, so it’s not easy to find the best match. You’ve looked for days but found none satisfactory. Tell your mother, what kind of woman do you like?”

“A woman who is well-educated and courteous is best. Her family background need not be too prestigious,” Dou Yun said. “Those who are spoiled and willful are not acceptable.”

“I understand. The youngest legitimate daughter of Minister Sun’s family is quite suitable, and there’s also one from the Wang family. At Mother’s birthday banquet, I will invite them all. You can observe them from a distance,” Dou Yun’s mother replied.

“Thank you, Mother. I appreciate your care,” Dou Yun said with a bow.

“No trouble at all. As long as you can start a family, I will have one less worry,” Dou Yun’s mother said kindly.

Truly, choosing someone to observe was not difficult. At the Dou family’s birthday banquet, the young ladies gathered together like a garden in full bloom, laughing and chatting, each a vibrant flower competing for attention. Yet, even among blossoms in full flourish, there are always distinctions; among a hundred flowers, one can always be plucked.

…

“The Right Prime Minister Dou has decided on the eldest daughter of Minister Wang’s family. Though she is not the most striking in appearance, she excels at guqin and embroidery. Her mother is gentle and virtuous, and her father has no concubines. Her demeanor is poised and graceful, which greatly pleases Madam Dou,” the subordinate reported.

“And what about Dou Yun himself?” Shen Chun asked.

“The match was chosen by Right Prime Minister Dou himself,” the subordinate replied. “Both sides have agreed, and the wedding arrangements are underway.”

“In that case, when the day of their marriage arrives, I shall also send a gift,” Shen Chun said with a smile.

Dou Yun had never married in the original timeline. Partly because in his youth, full of ambition, he had high standards and didn’t want to be tied down by family obligations during the prime of his career. Later, after the palace coup, he protected Feng Feibai, and his political path became difficult; to avoid dragging others down, he continued to remain unmarried. When feelings gradually developed, he was reluctant to marry a woman while his heart was already occupied, it would only harm both himself and another.

Now that his political path is smooth and free from burdens, and with Shen Chun exerting pressure to use marriage as a political alliance, the process of arranging a marriage naturally accelerated.

Those who think they are indispensable are often not, by changing some circumstances and causes, others can take their place just as well.

Love, such a thing is really nothing more than this.

The Right Prime Minister Dou’s wedding was a major event in the capital. Nobles and officials from all over the court would attend, not just because of Dou Yun’s official rank, but also because the Dou family had many branches and three generations of senior ministers, enough to draw the city’s elite to offer congratulations.

Red decorations blanketed the streets; the blare of suona horns mingled with the crackle of firecrackers. Guests came and went in waves.

“Congratulations to the Right Prime Minister Dou! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.”

“Brother Dou has finally succeeded in establishing himself and is now marrying a beautiful bride.”

“Stop teasing him already.”

Everything about the wedding followed the proper rites. Dou Yun rode his horse, respectfully saluting each well-wisher along the road. When he dismounted, the grand bridal sedan chair, carried on eight poles, came to a stop.

“Shoot the sedan door! Time to welcome the bride!” the attendant announced.

Just as Dou Yun lifted his bow, a faint but clear herald’s voice called out, “The Emperor approaches, His Highness Prince Yi arrives—”

Though quiet, the announcement carried far. Those who had been seeing guests off quickly dropped to their knees in respect, chanting, “Long live the Emperor! Long live, long live forever! Long live Prince Yi! Long live, long live forever!”

The imperial procession arrived in grand spectacle, flanked by guards on both sides. Two richly adorned carriages came to a halt. No one dared to look up; all eyes remained fixed on the ground, catching only glimpses of the black-and-red robes brushing the earth.

The young emperor glanced at Shen Chun and said, “Everyone, please rise.”

As the emperor, his word should command obedience across the land, yet when he spoke, no one dared to stand.

Shen Chun smiled and said, “Please, everyone, be seated. Today is Prime Minister Dou’s joyous day; there is no need for such formalities.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Thank you, Prince Yi,” the assembly responded, and only then did they slowly rise.

Many people came to the wedding procession, not all officials, yet all held great respect and awe for Prince Yi.

In these past few months, Prince Yi’s reputation and power had not waned. Early in the new dynasty, he executed two thousand corrupt officials in just a few days. In the capital alone, rivers of blood flowed, pooling at Caishikou Market and lingering there for a long time, inspiring fear.

Then came the suppression of the royal princes. Within three months, Prince Ning’s territory was reclaimed by the central government. The discovery of imperial robes and piles of weapons in his residence was irrefutable evidence. From the deployment of troops to the imprisonment of Prince Ning, only three days passed.

This move indeed caused widespread fear, but the previously chaotic princely territories became much more orderly and peaceful.

If that were all, the “Killing God” reputation of Prince Yi would only grow stronger. Yet the policies he enacted over these months were all welcomed by the people, who sincerely admired and respected him.

The vast populace of the realm never truly cared who sat on the throne; what mattered was whether those in high positions could ensure they had enough food to eat and clothes to wear.

The Prince Regent was decisive and ruthless in his actions but loved his people like his own children. Coupled with his former military achievements in the northwest, many even painted his image to keep at home as a talisman for protection.

Among the common folk, rumors circulated that the Prince Regent stood nine feet tall, broad-shouldered and powerful like a bear, with a fierce, blue-tinged face and sharp fangs. It was said he could lift a hundred-pound hammer with one hand and cause the ground to cave in with a stomp. He was said to consume fresh meat constantly, eating a hundred pounds at a time, and drinking a large measure of enemy blood.

But when people looked up, there was a woman who couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp. Though the sound was quickly stifled, it left the crowd frozen in place.

The man was indeed tall, estimated at over eight feet, but with flowing black hair, elegant robes, and flawless features. Handsome beyond compare, his pair of smiling, almond-shaped eyes gently closed halfway, causing many women’s cheeks to flush.

“Your Majesty, Prince Regent, greetings.” Dou Yun stepped forward to pay respects.

“You are the groom today, no need for excessive formalities. Go and greet the bride.” Shen Chun said.

“Yes, thank you, Prince Regent.” Dou Yun looked back as the crowd parted. Members of the Dou family came forward to welcome them further inside.

The guards stood firm, and Shen Chun bowed his head with a smile, saying, “Your Majesty, please lead the way.”

“Let my loyal minister accompany us.” Feng Feibai showed no displeasure upon seeing the recent scene.

Because such scenes were common in the palace now. Shen Chun rarely overstepped, but under his governance, it seemed everyone had forgotten there was still an emperor, only recognizing the Prince Regent as their master.

Shen Chun reached out his hand, and Feng Feibai took it. The sovereign and his minister entered side by side.

The emperor took his seat in the center, Shen Chun sat to his left, while the parents of the bride and groom could only take their places to the right, slightly lower.

The newlyweds performed the three bows, each announced by the master of ceremonies. Dou Yun held the red silk ribbon carefully, moving with great caution. Despite the entire room being bathed in red, it couldn’t hide the blush on his face.

Dou Yun usually favored pale colors, which made him appear elegant and refined. Now, dressed entirely in bright red, he seemed even more flushed and radiant.

“It seems Minister Dou Yun has found someone who truly reciprocates his feelings,” Shen Chun whispered with a slight smile.

Feng Feibai’s gaze drifted from Dou Yun back to Shen Chun. The Right Prime Minister truly had an exceptional demeanor, but no matter how carefully adorned, he couldn’t match the Prince Regent, who casually took a seat and immediately drew countless admiring glances.

“Ceremony complete—”

With a loud proclamation, Shen Chun signaled to a nearby eunuch, who then retrieved the imperial edict. Several attendants entered carrying ceremonial gifts, followed by the newlyweds. Everyone knelt once more.

Shen Chun was about to rise, but Feng Feibai said, “Prince Regent, please remain seated.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Shen Chun replied, settling back into his seat.

The list of congratulatory gifts went on and on, all of immense value, not only were there gifts bestowed by the Emperor and the Empress Dowager, but also the ceremonial gifts from Shen Chun himself. Hearing them, the assembled guests were left speechless in admiration.

[Host, throughout history, those who rise too high and threaten the sovereign rarely meet a good end,] 521 reminded after checking the records.

[If I were to lose, then at least I’d have lived my life to the fullest, right?] Shen Chun asked with a smile.

[Host, you must not say that,] 521 said anxiously.

[If I die because I can’t win, it would actually shorten the mission time, meaning I could complete more missions in less time, right?] Shen Chun said.

[But Host, deliberately seeking death when you could live will lose points.] 521 said seriously. [You have to cherish life.]

Whether it’s your own or others’.

Shen Chun’s expression froze for a moment, then he suddenly laughed: [I’m joking. Do you really think such a little guy could do anything to me?]

[Oh, oh…] 521 let out a huge sigh of relief.

That little guy truly couldn’t do anything to the host.

Shen Chun smiled. Emperors who are remembered through the ages are all those who have risen through countless trials and hardships. The little emperor in the original timeline was tempered by setbacks, it was those challenges that forged his character. Now, this pressure was meant for Shen Chun to bear.

After the ceremony ended, Shen Chun and Feng Feibai did not stay long. Once again, they walked out together, one tall, one short, yet both equally outstanding in bearing, drawing everyone’s attention.

After Right Prime Minister Dou’s wedding, the rumors about the Prince Regent changed drastically, and even portraits began to circulate, garnering much praise.

“The Prince Regent isn’t some fierce, blue-faced demon. It’s just that after countless battles on the field, he felt his own appearance was too handsome to command fear, so he wore the blue-faced demon mask instead.”

“Is he really as godlike as they say?”

“He’s caused many to pine away from love.”

“But it’s said that His Highness the Prince Regent favors men…”

“What difference does it make whether it’s men or women?”

…

The summer heat was intense. Even though Shen Chun possessed inner strength and did not feel the heat much, the scorching sun still made him prefer staying in a room cooled with ice.

After finishing his discussions, Shen Chun returned to his residence, only to be met by the hastily approaching Liang Wendong.

“Your Highness has returned,” Liang Wendong reported. “Please come inside quickly.”

Shen Chun subtly raised an eyebrow and said, “Did I happen upon some good news?”

Liang Wendong paused for a moment and replied, “How did you know?”

“Obviously, I could tell,” Shen Chun replied as he reached the door. Just before pushing it open, he gave Liang Wendong a glance. Liang gulped nervously as Shen Chun pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The door closed behind him, sealing in the coolness of the room. Faint voices drifted in from outside.

“It’s just sending a beauty to the Marshal. What’s there to be so nervous about?”

“You know nothing. I’m just afraid the Marshal might hold it in for too long and suffer for it…”

Though the voices were quiet, Shen Chun heard them loud and clear. He turned his gaze toward the bed, its canopy hanging down, and deliberately made his footsteps heavier as he walked closer.

The sound of breathing inside was slightly rushed, and the moment Shen Chun lifted the canopy, that breath caught completely, held in suspense.

His bed was wide, he had always slept alone, but now, at the center of it, knelt a young man.

He had removed his shoes, revealing clean white socks. Dressed in a light blue robe with a white inner layer, his hair was unbound and fell loosely around his shoulders. His features were refined and handsome, delicate in a way that was especially pleasing to the eye in the summer heat, bringing a sense of coolness to the heart.

He had been holding his breath, but the moment he saw Shen Chun, a blush had already crept onto his cheeks. “Your Highness.”

“The beauty beneath the canopy,” Shen Chun murmured as he casually swept aside the bed curtains and leaned in, lowering himself slightly to pinch the young man’s chin, drawing him closer for a better look. “Truly, a sight with its own charm.”

The closer the youth came, the more shy he seemed. His fingers hesitantly reached out to rest on Shen Chun’s shoulder, only for Shen Chun to release his chin, letting him fall back onto the bedding.

The young man looked a little startled, only to hear Shen Chun say with a faint smile, “What a pity, you’re not to this prince’s taste.”

[Host, is he not good-looking?] 521 asked. According to human standards of beauty, this person was indeed rather attractive.

[He is,] Shen Chun replied with a soft laugh, [but I promised someone something once. The moment the seal was stamped, that promise became one I couldn’t break lightly.]

“Pinky swear, hang it high, no take-backs for a hundred years.” A hundred years hadn’t passed yet. So no, he couldn’t casually get close to someone else.

He had no interest in becoming a bastard.

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• 1
  Mizi Xia was a beautiful youth favored by Duke Ling of Wei (衛靈公). One day, Mizi Xia was eating a peach, found it delicious, and offered the half-eaten remainder to the Duke, saying he wanted him to taste its sweetness. The Duke accepted it gladly, touched by Mizi Xia’s affection and thoughtfulness. However, later when Mizi Xia’s beauty faded and the Duke’s favor cooled, the same gesture was reinterpreted maliciously. The Duke said Mizi Xia had been “so arrogant as to offer me his leftovers”, turning what had once been a sign of love into an offense.
• 2
  The “si-hour” (巳時) refers to the period from 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m so it’s around 10:00 to 10:30 a.m. in modern time
• 3
  dry, boring Confucian talk.