BEGW C104

Chapter 104

The officials and soldiers stationed outside the Listening to Heaven Platform immediately cleared out a firebreak and guarded the perimeter to prevent the flames from spreading.

At night, the towering blaze lit up Zhaodu beneath Moon-Sheath Mountain as brightly as day.

The fire burned for three days and three nights, only ending when a torrential rain finally fell.

What remained of the once-arrogant Listening to Heaven Platform were nothing more than marble foundations and rows of charred, toppled statues.

At court, some officials proposed sending men to thoroughly clear the ruins.

However, Jiang Yuxun vetoed the suggestion.

In the end, all the foundations and statues were left where they were, buried beneath a layer of yellow earth and concealed within Moon-Sheath Mountain.

Although Shang You had locked the compound gates early on, several people still fought their way over the walls and escaped the inferno.

Through the mouths of these gravely wounded, dying wu-shamans, the truth of the fire spread across the realm.

For a time, all that remained along both banks of the Yi River was quiet sighing.

The people of Great Zhou were no longer farmers who only tilled the land and lived at the mercy of the weather.

Even in the agricultural off-season, they worked in the many workshops scattered across the Yi River plain to earn wages, or went to academies to learn how to read and write.

The shock and lamentation did not last long.

Before much time had passed, the people—busy with their livelihoods—temporarily pushed the matter from their minds.

The once all-powerful Listening to Heaven Platform

was gradually fading from memory

into “history.”

In the height of summer, at mao hour, the sky was only just beginning to brighten.

The mountain mist had yet to disperse, and Xianyou Palace, built halfway up the slope, seemed draped in a thin veil of ink-blue gauze—distant and unreal.

An inner attendant struck the Jin’an Bell at one corner of the traveling palace.

The deep, heavy toll echoed across the entire Xianyou Palace in an instant.

It startled even the cat sleeping on a soft cushion beside the couch, which yawned and cracked its eyes open.

“…It’s mao hour already,” Jiang Yuxun muttered as he woke.

Though summer had arrived, Ying Changchuan had still not ordered the heavy bed curtains in the rear hall replaced.

The thick felt drapes blocked the morning sunlight completely.

Jiang Yuxun’s internal clock had gone thoroughly awry.

Hearing movement inside the curtains, the cat grew anxious outside.

It rubbed around for a long while but failed to burrow through the thick felt, and could only keep meowing plaintively.

Before Jiang Yuxun could lift a hand to part the curtains, Ying Changchuan clasped his hand.

“Still early.”

As the words fell, he once again pulled Jiang Yuxun tightly into his arms from behind—clearly with no intention of getting up.

“It’s already mao hour 5–7 am,” Jiang Yuxun protested, trapped on his side in Ying Changchuan’s embrace, struggling a little as he fretted over the day’s work.

“There’s still so much to do today. In another two or three months it’ll be time for the imperial examinations, and the questions haven’t been finalized yet…”

In his previous life, Jiang Yuxun had been a student his entire life. He had never set exam questions for others—just thinking about it gave him a headache.

Ying Changchuan kissed the back of his neck and said lazily, “There’s still time.”

Jiang Yuxun was still carrying the duties of Attendant-in-Ordinary.

The moment he closed his eyes, item after item on the court’s “to-do list” surfaced clearly in his mind.

He hesitated, then said, “But isn’t Your Majesty taking ten days of leave next month? With that, we really need to speed things up…”

…Strange. Since when had Ying Changchuan become this lazy?

Just as Jiang Yuxun was worrying, a sudden sharp sensation flared at his neck and shoulder.

The man who had been lightly kissing his nape had, at some point, bitten into that particularly sensitive, delicate skin.

“Your Majesty!” Jiang Yuxun shuddered violently.

As he struggled, he suddenly felt… something press against him from behind.

The rear hall fell utterly silent.

Jiang Yuxun froze completely.

As a grown man, he knew exactly… what this meant.

In less than half an hour, the ministers would arrive at Liúyún Hall to discuss the examinations.

They couldn’t very well be left waiting, could they?

Jiang Yuxun took a deep breath, buried his face lightly into the pillow, and after a long pause finally mumbled indistinctly:

“…You’d better be quick.”

His cheeks were already burning, his entire body flushed red like a boiled shrimp.

The instant the words left his mouth, Jiang Yuxun screamed internally.

What—what did I just rush Ying Changchuan to do?!

Through the thin summer clothes, the outline pressing against him was far too clear.

As he spoke, the breathing behind him suddenly grew heavier.

The moment he received Jiang Yuxun’s consent, Ying Changchuan pressed forward hard.

“Mm—”

The man who had been trying to stay composed immediately began trembling uncontrollably.

Ying Changchuan’s movements faltered. Though his breathing remained heavy, he stopped and gently stroked Jiang Yuxun’s shoulder and back, saying in a lower, hoarser voice than usual:

“Don’t be afraid… go change first.”

Jiang Yuxun hadn’t intended to do any of this so early in the morning.

But seeing Ying Changchuan mistake his involuntary reaction for fear sparked a rebellious impulse in him.

As if I’d be afraid of this.

The sunlight was shut out by the heavy felt curtains.

Darkness filled his vision.

He suddenly inhaled deeply and, seizing the moment Ying Changchuan loosened his hold, turned around.

Jiang Yuxun didn’t know that in the darkness, his eyes were brighter than starlight.

For an instant, the Son of Heaven even wanted to betray every promise he had ever made—

to cast aside the ministers soon to arrive at Liúyún Hall, the leave, even Yanxian Island—

and surrender to his desires, to bare his true nature and claim the person before him completely.

Yet the slightly nervous Jiang Yuxun unconsciously blinked at him twice, then finally took a breath and whispered at his ear in resignation:

“I… I’ll use my hand?”

…

The sun slowly rose.

The morning mist over Xianyou Palace dissipated completely.

The mountain air warmed bit by bit, and the atmosphere in the rear hall of Liúyún Hall grew unbearably hot.

Before Jiang Yuxun arrived, Great Zhou had been like a massive war machine.

The entire court existed to serve the military.

A court in such a state had little need for officials beyond those related to warfare.

But now, the flames of war were gradually receding.

Once survival was secured, “peace and prosperity” became everyone’s highest pursuit.

And with Great Zhou’s territory expanding rapidly, the court needed large numbers of officials to govern the new lands.

Though Jiang Yuxun advocated “opening examinations to seek talent for the state,” he had no intention of copying the mature imperial examination system of later eras wholesale.

First, ancient examination subjects were indeed somewhat narrow.

Second, the candidates’ overall foundations were still weak—there was no immediate need for multi-tiered examinations from prefectural to palace level.

Moreover, the court itself had no experience organizing such exams and needed to proceed step by step.

If history was an endless river flowing forward,

then Jiang Yuxun’s era lay upstream.

Those upstream only needed to build a rough framework—to complete the process from nothing to something.

The rest would be refined by later generations, eventually forming the system best suited to their own time.

At chen hour7–9 a.m, in the front hall of Liúyún Hall.

Though there was no formal court session today, the hall was filled early in the morning.

Besides officials led by Zhuang Yue, there were also talents selected from among the common people—individuals from various trades.

The examination questions to be held three months later, covering crafts, law, medicine, mathematics, agriculture, and more, would be compiled jointly by all present.

Unlike Zhuang Yue and the others, many were visiting Liúyún Hall for the first time and had never seen the Son of Heaven or Jiang Yuxun in person. Once inside, they couldn’t help but steal curious glances around.

However, when the appointed time arrived, only the Emperor appeared—Jiang Yuxun was nowhere to be seen.

…

After briefly meeting everyone and reviewing the past few days’ compiled work behind the taotie-patterned throne screen, Ying Changchuan left Liúyún Hall to inspect riverworks at Juanyue Hall.

The talents invited to compile the exam questions seized the opportunity to whisper among themselves in the corners.

“Has Lord Jiang not arrived yet?” someone asked quietly while looking around.

The colleague beside him shook his head. “…Seems not.”

“That’s strange. Wasn’t Lord Jiang staying in Xianyou Palace these past few days?”

“Maybe he’s busy with something else?”

“Makes sense.”

Though the Emperor was gone, their conversation all fell into Zhuang Yue’s ears.

He frowned, set down his brush, and suddenly exited Liúyún Hall through a side door.

Ying Changchuan really isn’t human!

…

Jiang Yuxun had meant to make things quick, but not only did it not end quickly—he had nearly gotten himself dragged under.

By the time everything was truly finished and he rose to wash and dress, it was already close to chen hour.

Unlike Ying Changchuan, who slept neatly, Jiang Yuxun’s long hair had spilled across the bed after a night of tossing.

When he finally prepared to head to Liúyún Hall, he discovered that even his black hair bore a conspicuous mark…

“Jiang Yuxun!”

Zhuang Yue’s booming voice echoed across the open grounds.

Just as Jiang Yuxun was about to sneak into Liúyún Hall, he froze in place and looked over guiltily.

“Z-Zhuang… my lord?”

“Do you know what time it is?” Zhuang Yue strode over, lowering his voice in exasperation.

“Though your relationship with His Majesty is… close, you must never forget your duty as a minister. You were never late before—what happened today?”

As he spoke, he cast Jiang Yuxun a suspicious look.

He had gradually come to accept Jiang Yuxun’s relationship with Ying Changchuan, but never expected the consistently well-behaved Jiang Yuxun to be late.

Something felt off—and he wanted an explanation.

Jiang Yuxun lowered his head, biting his lip.

“I… I went to bathe and lost track of time.”

“Bathe?” Zhuang Yue frowned. “Why would you bathe at this hour?”

Though no one else was around, Jiang Yuxun’s face still flushed completely.

Afraid Zhuang Yue would notice something amiss, he could only keep apologizing.

Seeing him take full responsibility and insist he had overslept, Zhuang Yue finally patted his shoulder.

“Don’t neglect yourself just because of your relationship with His Majesty.”

“Yes, yes…” Jiang Yuxun finally breathed a sigh of relief.

 

However, before he could return to the hall together with Zhuang Yue, a sudden sound of footsteps came from behind them.

Both men turned at the same time, looking toward the source of the sound.

The Son of Heaven, dressed in black, had somehow already left Juanyue Hall and returned here.

With his exceptionally sharp hearing, he had long since heard every word Zhuang Yue had spoken.

Zhuang Yue raised his hands to his brow, about to bow.

“Your servant Zhuang Yue greets—”

Before he could finish, Ying Changchuan waved a hand and cut him off.

“Minister Zhuang has misunderstood.”

“Ah?” Zhuang Yue froze, his mind failing to turn fast enough. “Misunderstood… what?”

Ying Changchuan smiled lightly.

Sensing danger, Jiang Yuxun’s eyes widened at once.

But before he could step forward to stop him, Ying Changchuan was already smiling and shaking his head as he said softly,

“This matter is not A-Xun’s fault. It is entirely my own.”

As he spoke, he even cast a rather remorseful look toward Jiang Yuxun.

Zhuang Yue: “……”

His Majesty’s fault?

If the one hearing this had been Zhuang Yue’s son, Zhuang Youli, he would certainly have asked what fault there was.

But Zhuang Yue, at his age, understood immediately.

The man who had just been lecturing Jiang Yuxun fell silent on the spot.

Zhuang Yue’s expression shifted from green to white. Serving under Ying Changchuan for so many years, this was the first time he found himself silently grinding his teeth at the Emperor.

…I knew it!

A-Xun was always so obedient and dutiful, always placing the court above all else.

It was His Majesty who had gone too far.

Zhuang Yue suddenly experienced the feeling of waking up to find the cabbage patch he had tended so carefully destroyed overnight—his heart filled with profound grief.

Though he should have left, his feet seemed rooted to the ground.

“Does Minister Zhuang have any other business?” the Emperor asked, as though entirely oblivious to his subordinate’s expression.

Zhuang Yue truly regarded Jiang Yuxun as his own son.

When all those tangled emotions rushed to his head, the usually restrained minister finally clenched his teeth, bowed to the Emperor, and offered a tactful reminder:

“N-no… nothing else. It’s just that this minister suddenly recalled that Lord Jiang has been in poor health since childhood, bedridden for many years. His constitution is weak and he should properly rest. This minister should not have blamed Lord Jiang without cause earlier, and now regrets it.”

On the surface, Zhuang Yue was admitting fault and reflecting on his earlier reprimand.

But the words he deliberately emphasized—“poor health,” “bedridden,” “weak constitution,” “proper rest”—were all bold hints aimed squarely at the Emperor, urging restraint.

“So,” Ying Changchuan nodded lightly, his expression unchanged,

“I will remember it.”

He looked utterly sincere—so sincere it was as if he truly had not heard the subtext at all.

“T-then… good,” Zhuang Yue let out a long breath and bowed again. “This minister will take his leave.”

“Very well.”

…

In the blink of an eye, only Jiang Yuxun and Ying Changchuan remained outside Liúyún Hall.

Jiang Yuxun, who had been standing there awkwardly the entire time, finally hissed through clenched teeth in a low voice:

“Ying Changchuan!”

You did that on purpose!

After years of close daily contact, Jiang Yuxun could read Ying Changchuan’s thoughts at a glance.

—Not many people knew of their relationship, and Zhuang Yue was one of them.

Ying Changchuan’s sudden “appearance to take the blame” wasn’t merely to explain things away.

He simply couldn’t resist showing off in front of this particular “informed party.”

Before Ying Changchuan could turn around and ask “What?”, Jiang Yuxun—who had been standing there embarrassed for far too long—stepped forward and, under cover of his wide robes, lightly kicked Ying Changchuan’s ankle.

If the Emperor himself doesn’t care about face, why should I?

“—Tsk.” Ying Changchuan clearly hadn’t expected that.

The corner of his lips lifted.

Just as he was about to say something, he saw that Jiang Yuxun—having committed his mischief—had already vanished like a gust of wind.

In the blink of an eye, Jiang Yuxun straightened his robes and appeared before the assembled officials inside Liúyún Hall with impeccable composure.

Catching sight of Ying Changchuan standing by the side door, Jiang Yuxun even discreetly tucked his hands behind his back and made a “go, go” shooing gesture.

Those seated at the desks drafting examination papers rose at once to salute Jiang Yuxun.

Brilliant summer sunlight was shattered by the window lattice of Liúyún Hall, scattering like golden petals across him.

Standing alone in the hall, Jiang Yuxun looked like cold jade polished by spring water—

or green bamboo dusted with a veil of snow.

He had long since grown into someone with the bearing of clear moonlight and gentle wind.

Within Liúyún Hall, Jiang Yuxun began explaining the imperial examinations in detail.

Though the Emperor had heard all of this countless times before, he did not leave as Jiang Yuxun had urged.

Instead, he stood by the side door, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Jiang Yuxun.

In that gaze were tenderness, love—

and unmistakable pride and admiration.

…

The matter of the Listening to Heaven Platform delayed Jiang Yuxun’s visit to Xing Zhi by several days.

Now that Xing Zhi had fully recovered, Jiang Yuxun naturally could not break his word.

On the eve of the rest days, Jiang Yuxun took the gifts he had prepared in advance and left Xianyou Palace for Zhaodu.

Xing Zhi’s business had grown larger and larger, and the tavern he ran in Zhaodu had expanded accordingly.

It was now three or four times its former size—and even had a “branch shop.”

Early in the morning, Xing Zhi was already busy inside the tavern.

Before he could order preparations for the day, two familiar figures appeared at the tavern entrance.

Besides Jiang Yuxun, Ying Changchuan had come with him as well!

Xing Zhi was startled and hurried forward to bow.

“Your Maj—”

Ying Changchuan smiled and shook his head.

“No need for formalities.”

Xing Zhi noticed that although their clothes were made of fine material, the styles were not ostentatious—just like the brocade garments worn by wealthy merchants in Zhaodu.

After a brief pause, realization dawned.

They were traveling incognito.

“Y-yes!” Xing Zhi hurriedly led them inside. “This way, my lords.”

The tavern was newly opened. Though larger than before, it had no private rooms.

After some hesitation, Xing Zhi brought them to the most secluded table on the second floor.

“Would the two lords be willing to sit here?”

“Anywhere is fine,” Jiang Yuxun said with a smile. “We mainly came to see you today.”

His tone was perfectly natural as he casually picked up the teapot.

At that moment, the Xuanyin Office attendants presented the gifts.

Strictly speaking, as a minister, Jiang Yuxun should have waited for the Emperor to answer.

Yet he replied on his own—and Xing Zhi showed not the slightest doubt.

…After their time together on the grasslands, Xing Zhi had already guessed their relationship seven or eight parts out of ten.

“G-good!” Xing Zhi sat down, flattered, chatting with Jiang Yuxun about his health and casually recounting what he had seen and heard in Zherou.

Though Jiang Yuxun arrived early, the tavern’s reputation was too great.

Before long, customers began arriving ahead of mealtime to secure seats.

Despite its size, the tavern quickly grew noisy.

Jiang Yuxun glanced at Ying Changchuan uncertainly—someone of aristocratic birth who had likely never been in such a bustling, common place.

Does he want to leave?

But at a single glance, Jiang Yuxun saw it clearly—

Ying Changchuan’s eyes were full of interest.

He was plainly curious about this world so unlike anything he had known.

…

The tavern grew ever more crowded, and the street below buzzed with noise.

A lavishly decorated carriage stopped outside.

A young man in blue robes entered with an attendant’s support, followed by more than a dozen household servants—an unprecedented display.

So much so that passersby all turned to look.

Seeing this, Jiang Yuxun asked curiously,

“Master Xing, who is that?”

“Oh, him?” Xing Zhi set down his wine cup and lowered his voice.

“That’s Xuan Yuhai, a musician from Water-Music Pavilion.”

He meant to add more, but the moment the words “Water-Music Pavilion” left his mouth, Jiang Yuxun choked on his drink.

“Cough—cough—!”

An unspeakable memory surged into his mind.

A Water-Music Pavilion musician?!

Xing Zhi jumped in alarm, but before he could fetch tea, Ying Changchuan handed Jiang Yuxun a silk handkerchief and asked casually,

“What is it?”

“I… I remembered that Water-Music Pavilion musicians used to wear heavy makeup. I didn’t expect them to change their style.”

If he’d known who it was, he’d never have asked.

Caught off guard, Jiang Yuxun blurted out everything on his mind.

“Cough… seeing him reminded me of back then.”

Why do I always open the wrong pot?!

Despair washed over him.

…The matters of Lord Jiang and His Majesty back then?

Xing Zhi’s curiosity instantly ignited—he nearly pricked his ears to listen.

But with a loyal subject’s conscience, he forced himself to stand, lowering his voice so only they could hear:

“Um… Your Majesty, Lord Jiang, it’s nearly mealtime and the tavern has matters to attend to. Please excuse this commoner for a moment.”

Ying Changchuan smiled and nodded.

“Go ahead.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Xing Zhi seized on the excuse and fled at once.

At the same time, the “Young Master Xuan” from Water-Music Pavilion had vanished downstairs.

“How coincidental,” Ying Changchuan said as he lifted his cup, turning meaningfully to Jiang Yuxun.

“I’ve also just recalled what happened back then.”

What must come will come.

You can dodge the first, but not the fifteenth.

Their seats were separated from the hall by only a silk screen.

The noise of footsteps and voices reached Jiang Yuxun clearly.

Ying Changchuan suddenly leaned in with a mouthful of strong wine and kissed him.

The sharp aroma flooded their lips in an instant as Ying Changchuan fed the wine directly into Jiang Yuxun’s mouth.

Having never done such a thing in public, Jiang Yuxun’s heart pounded wildly—he forgot to resist entirely.

With Jiang Yuxun’s lips still captured, Ying Changchuan asked softly,

“Back then, my dear minister never told me—what kind of person do you like?”

No heavy makeup, a good figure, and a face…

Those old thoughts—and Ying Changchuan’s face—overlapped in an instant.

The wine lingered on his tongue.

Leaving him no chance to answer.

Before Jiang Yuxun could speak, Ying Changchuan seemed to think of something and chuckled softly.

“While you’re at it, tell me exactly what you like about him.”

The strong wine made Jiang Yuxun dizzy.

Yet he understood perfectly—

Ying Changchuan didn’t want the answer from back then at all.

…He simply wanted to seize this chance to hear Jiang Yuxun praise him,

to coax out sweet words never spoken before.

Author’s joke payoff:

Achievement unlocked: Assaulting the Emperor in front of Xianyou Palace (1/1)