The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 140 Indulging In Vices Is Not The Behavior Of A Gentleman

The two walked out of the study, only to see that outside, a fine and dense silent snowfall had begun.

Against the pitch-black night sky, thick, pristine snowflakes drifted gently to the ground, already forming a thin layer of white. The residence that Ji Zhaosi had prepared for Wang Zhen was meticulously designed; in Youzhou, such a courtyard, rich with the charm of Jiangnan’s water towns, was rare. The manor’s garden even had a pond, with stacked rock formations and layers of trees partially concealing the scenery.

Tang Shen and Wang Zhen walked side by side along the corridor. Tang Shen extended his hand, catching a snowflake.

“It’s strange,” he mused. “On the eve of the seventh day of the first lunar month, Shengjing had a heavy snowfall, and the next day, another just like today. Yet on that very night, the moonlight was clear, without a single flake in sight.” After a pause, he added, “On the night Shanting was executed, it also snowed.”

Wang Zhen’s voice was crisp and cool. “Do you believe in gods and spirits?”

Tang Shen suddenly lifted his head, meeting his senior brother’s gaze. They looked at each other for a moment before Tang Shen replied, “No.”

Of course, he didn’t believe. And he knew that Wang Zhen didn’t believe either.

If he did, then back during the xiangshi exams, Wang Zhen wouldn’t have ‘released’ turtles and rabbits in his name, trying to dissuade him from seeking divine protection and instead relying on himself.

Wang Zhen asked, “Then, little Junior Brother, do you think His Majesty believes?”

Tang Shen had no immediate answer.

Did Zhao Fu believe in gods and spirits?

Ask any citizen of the Song Dynasty, and they would likely answer: He believes, and he believes deeply!

Zhao Fu had followed Taoism for over twenty years. Every Chief Astronomer in the Astronomical Bureau had been a Taoist priest. The Immortal Ascension Platform, the Xuji Tower—weren’t they all built for his pursuit of immortality? He didn’t just believe in Taoism; he even believed in Buddhism. Even after executing that demon monk, Shanting, Zhao Fu still often played with a string of prayer beads during court sessions.

But after a long silence, Tang Shen finally said, “Perhaps he doesn’t believe.” His tone carried hesitation, uncertain speculation.

Wang Zhen chuckled softly. He reached out, grasped Tang Shen’s hand effortlessly, and held it. “Perhaps?”

Encouraged by his gaze, Tang Shen said with more certainty, “He doesn’t believe.”

Wang Zhen commented, “Li daren is an interesting man.”

It took Tang Shen a moment to realize that Wang Zhen was referring to Li Xiaoren, the Chief Astronomer.

“More than ten years ago, when I first met him, he had just been appointed Chief Astronomer and was still full of unease. But at that time, I was just a fifth-rank official myself.”

Tang Shen asked, “A fifth-rank Chamberlain?”

Wang Zhen smiled and nodded.

Tang Shen: “…”

A ‘mere’ fifth-rank official, indeed!

Wang Zhen continued, “Look at that expression—you’re thinking of kissing me, aren’t you?”

Tang Shen immediately averted his gaze.

Wang Zhen, however, leaned in smoothly, pressing a light kiss to Tang Shen’s eyelashes before continuing, “Since last year, Li daren often came to me, complaining about the oppression of Shanting. I understood his meaning, but what could I do? I, Wang Zifeng, am but a minor official with no influence in His Majesty’s eyes. Even if I spoke until my mouth was dry, His Majesty wouldn’t spare me a glance.”

Tang Shen: “…”

“Jing Ze, that look—hehehe, come back here.” Wang Zhen had been about to steal another kiss when he saw Tang Shen nearly turn away without a second thought. Laughing, he grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

Tang Shen was speechless. You? A minor official with no influence? Can you be any more shameless!

Wang Zhen sighed, “Do you think I’m lying? Ah, you misunderstand me again. I mean it sincerely—when it came to Shanting, I truly was powerless. Otherwise, given my longstanding friendship with Li daren and my naturally helpful disposition, how could I not have aided him?”

Not giving Tang Shen the chance to roll his eyes at him again, Wang Zhen quickly added, “Uncle said he couldn’t understand what had happened, couldn’t grasp His Majesty’s motives. But I have always said the same thing—to Uncle, to you: Do not doubt His Majesty. Even if you don’t understand him, do not doubt him. There are very few in this world who can outmaneuver him.”

Very few people could outmaneuver Zhao Fu?

That meant somebody could?

Tang Shen nearly asked Wang Zhen who he thought could outmaneuver Zhao Fu. But the question seemed too much like a death wish, so he refrained. He pondered it himself—Wang Zhen probably thought he himself could, and… Prime Minister Ji?

Better not ask. Instead, Tang Shen looked at Wang Zhen. “Even you don’t understand?”

Wang Zhen replied, “I don’t.”

“Really?”

“I swear.”

Only then did Tang Shen believe him.

It made sense, after all. If Zhao Fu’s actions had once followed some discernible pattern, this New Year’s palace upheaval had been utterly unpredictable.

The world believed it was a matter of an evil monk deceiving the Left Prime Minister, nearly causing disaster. But those within the imperial court, the emperor’s confidants, knew the truth was entirely different—so different that not a single detail aligned with the official account.

Was it Shanting’s fault?

Then how had the emperor, after days of unconsciousness, woken up at the exact crucial moment?

But Zhao Fu only had three sons.

As Emperor of the Song Dynasty, what reason could he possibly have to scheme against all three of his own sons, ruining them so thoroughly?

After the palace upheaval, the three princes had fled Shengjing in a panic, as if escaping for their lives. They seemed to have grasped part of the truth and were left suffocating under the weight of their father’s overwhelming dominance.

What kind of father would plot against his own children like this?

For wealth and beauty? For supreme power?

Zhao Fu lacked none of those.

Then what was he after?

Eternal renown? A lasting legacy?

Would killing his own sons make him immortal in history?

Tang Shen sighed, “Long ago, I once told Sir: I’d rather be a xiucai for life than have my descendants serve in the Hanlin Academy.”

Serving a ruler was like accompanying a tiger. High office and power—such things were not so easily held.

Wang Zhen looked at him in surprise. “Little Junior Brother once thought of not becoming an official? Strange—I don’t recall our teacher ever mentioning this.”

Tang Shen hesitated. “You know which teacher I meant.”

“Wasn’t it Fu Wei—Fu Xiru, our teacher? Who else could it be?”

“…”

“Wang Zifeng, you’re asking the obvious!”

Wang Zhen laughed heartily, pulling him into an embrace. “It’s a cold night with heavy snow. Shall we go inside?”

Only then did Tang Shen realize that, unknowingly, Wang Zhen had led him right to his sleeping quarters. The door creaked open with a soft squeak.

Tang Shen hesitated for a moment. By the time he grasped Wang Zhen’s true intention, he was already being lifted and placed onto the bed.

Wang Zhen gently loosened his waistband. Tang Shen looked at his elegant, handsome features and, for a moment, lost his senses. Without thinking, he instinctively lifted his head and kissed him. Wang Zhen froze for a moment. Although Tang Shen’s kiss was not brief, it wasn’t long either. After the kiss, however, Wang Zhen’s lips curled upwards, and he kissed Tang Shen’s lips again—lips that he had longed for for months.

The bedpost gently rocked, emitting faint sounds.

By the time the snow stopped, the tremors of the bed also ceased. Wang Zhen donned his outer garment and added some charcoal to the brazier. Tang Shen lay on the bed, stretching his neck curiously to watch him tend to the fire. When Wang Zhen turned around, he saw the handsome young man half hanging out of bed, the blanket only covering down to his waist, exposing his snow pale back.

And this person was gazing at him with shiny black eyes, not even blinking.

Wang Zhen’s eyes heated up, his throat tightened, and he quickly said, "Indulging in wine and lust is not the way of a gentleman," before swiftly walking over and rolling Tang Shen back onto the bed.

The next day, both of them got up. As Tang Shen tied his waistband, he said, "Before coming here, I visited Sir’s residence. He told me that once the book was completed, he would have no regrets."

Wang Zhen paused in his actions of getting dressed.

He sighed deeply, then said, "Sir’s hometown is not in Shengjing. I don’t know if we will be able to return in time to visit one last time."

This time, Wang Zhen guessed correctly. On February 19, in the 32nd year of the Kaiping reign, the Hanlin Academy finished a book titled Wen Xun Jing Ji. This book took over three years of effort from Fu Wei. When Fu Wei was younger, he enjoyed participating in literary gatherings and reading the works of poets. Now, having finally completed Wen Xun Jing Ji, he was in high spirits and stayed up two nights in excitement.

But after the excitement wore off, Fu Wei felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. The book had nearly drained all his energy. Fu Wei finally realized that he was no longer a young man in his thirties or forties; he no longer had boundless energy. He was getting old and could no longer remain in the court.

At that moment, Fu Wei thought of his favorite student, Wang Zhen, who had left the capital the year before but had specially come to visit him and brought him a painting.

Fu Wei walked to his study and opened the painting. It was a beautiful landscape, with rich ink tones and an ingenious style. Wang Zhen’s painting was always casual and free-flowing, much like his calligraphy—extremely elegant. Yet, as Fu Wei looked at the painting, he saw the image of a white-haired old man riding a mule in the mountains.

After a long silence, Fu Wei burst into laughter. "You know everything, don’t you!"

The next day, Fu Wei submitted his resignation to the emperor and requested to retire to his hometown.

Several years ago, Fu Wei had resigned once, but Zhao Fu had strongly urged him to stay. That time, Fu Wei had gone from being the Left Prime Minister to the Hanlin Academy’s Minister of Imperial Edicts. This time, Zhao Fu tried to retain him again, but Fu Wei said, "I’m old. A few days ago, I finished Wen Xun Jing Ji and went out to gaze at the sky. Suddenly, I realized the vastness of the world, the bright moon, and the stars, yet I have never fully looked at them. Your Majesty, I really am old."

Zhao Fu sighed deeply and didn’t insist further. "Xi Ru, I truly will miss you."

Fu Wei said, "I will miss you as well, Your Majesty!" At those words, his eyes grew moist, and a tear fell.

After leaving Chuigong Hall, Fu Wei wiped his eyes and looked at the confined sky above the palace. His past flashed before his eyes—back in his younger days, the four great scholars were renowned, and he loved painting and leisure, calling himself the Master of Insignificant Talent. Back then, there was a person named Zhong Wei, and even a carefree person like Fu Wei had been deeply impressed by Zhong Taisheng.

When the previous emperor passed away and Zhao Fu ascended the throne, the sky changed again. The turbulent years of being lonely and uncertain about the future had lasted more than thirty years!

Now, Fu Wei was truly old. He no longer moved quickly, and his body was not as strong. Yet, as Fu Wei walked out of the palace, he felt a great sense of relief with every step. The further he walked, the faster his pace became. When he stepped out of the palace gates, Fu Wei threw his head back and laughed loudly. He turned to the page boy and said, "Back home!"

The page boy, not understanding, looked at him. Fu Wei added, "Let’s go, back home to Changzhou, to the place I should have returned to long ago!"

Changzhou was Fu Wei’s hometown.

AN: Old Wang: "Indulging in wine and lust is not the way of a gentleman, but I am no gentleman!"

Little Tang Lang: "…You, go away!"

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The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 139 Blessed But Don't Realize It!