Substitution

Wang An received his orders and left. Jiang Xun was in a daze for a moment before standing up from the couch.

His head throbbed splittingly as the memories of two lifetimes surged in his mind. Reaching up to press his temple, he let out a sharp hiss.

System 55 floated out: "Host, you have a wound on your forehead."

Jiang Xun looked into the bronze mirror. A strip of gauze was wrapped around his head, faintly seeping blood.

Jiang Xun raised his hand and unraveled the gauze. His skin was bruised purple, and in the center was a wound the size of a copper coin. The flesh was turned outward, displaying a raw pinkish color.

System 55 sucked in a breath of cold air: "Such a severe injury, it won't leave a scar, right?"

It stealthily glanced at Jiang Xun's face. Although this host had a weird personality, he was quite good-looking. The copper-coin-sized wound embedded in his temple didn't look hideous; instead, it added a touch of extravagant beauty. It would be a pity if it left a scar.

Jiang Xun wrapped the gauze back on. He applied quite a bit of force, and the wound started bleeding again as soon as it was tightened, seeping out from the gaps in the gauze. "It won't."

With this wound, he remembered what time period it was right now.

—It was the time when he fell off his horse during the autumn hunt and remained unconscious.

Jiang Xun's riding and archery skills were average. He failed to control his horse during the autumn hunt and fell. By pure coincidence, that unlucky bastard Xue Jin happened to be right next to him. When the fatuous ruler woke up, he threw around wild accusations and had Xue Jin imprisoned. He was currently locked up in the dungeon.

He had casually pointed his finger back then, but the person he pointed at was no ordinary man. This Xue Jin was the current Heir of Pingnan, the most outstanding young general of the dynasty. However, in history, he held an even more prominent title—Great Ancestor of Liang.

Great Ancestor, meaning the founding emperor. Back then, Jiang Xun spent his days indulging in wine and women, squandering away the empire until it was gone. Northern Di drove straight in, and the Central Plains fell.

However, the iron hooves of the nomadic tribes could never cross the natural barrier of the Yangtze River. Thus, Xue Jin unified the south, dominating the southeast and facing Northern Di across the river. Later, when the time was right, he crossed the river northward, recovered the Central Plains, and finally ascended the throne as emperor, establishing the state title as Liang.

Jiang Xun had read all of this in the history books; he was perfectly clear about it.

Shen Que was kneeling outside, presumably to plead for mercy for Xue Jin.

Just as Jiang Xun got out of bed, System 55 shoved the plot right in front of his eyes.

The little system bobbed around: "Host, 85 points, 85 points! You're a straight-A student, you know what 85 points means, right?"

For some reason, looking at Jiang Xun, System 55 always had a bad premonition of dying before the mission was even accomplished. This time, it decided to take charge from the very beginning, guarding strictly against any mistakes and absolutely ensuring nothing went wrong.

"Don't forget, if you don't get eighty-five points, this era might return to its original ending! The host must remember this!"

After saying this, the system guiltily dimmed its brightness.

Returning to the original ending didn't exist; it was purely a tactic to deceive the host.

But if it didn't deceive him, and then he failed again, System 55 was really going to cry.

The young man on the bed lowered his eyelashes and gave a hum of acknowledgment.

Jiang Xun was still recovering from his illness. His face was as pale as paper, with only his eyes looking like dabs of black lacquer, starkly black and white. His silk robes hung loosely on his frame, making him look frail and sickly.

The following plot was also quite simple. The fatuous ruler fell from his horse and got injured, so of course, he needed to find a punching bag. Heir Xue absolutely shouldn't have been right next to him when the fatuous ruler fell.

And since he was nearby, he had to bear the emperor's wrath. If Jiang Xun didn't throw him in prison and give him a whipping, he wouldn't be living up to his title as a fatuous and tyrannical ruler.

For Shen Que to dare to come and plead for mercy at this time was like pouring oil on the fire. In his rage, the fatuous ruler would commit an act that defied the principles of heaven and human morality.

He told Shen Que: Releasing Xue Jin is fine, but you will use your body to take his place.

Jiang Xun's tone was mocking. The young emperor didn't actually think that much, nor did he have much interest in men. He just wanted to make things difficult for his former teacher and force him to back down.

However, Shen Que agreed.

Thinking of this, Jiang Xun slightly closed his eyes.

Previously, when Old Man Li asked him to evaluate Jiang Xun, there was one thing he hadn't mentioned. Aside from being tyrannical and cruel, there was another evaluation of the Deposed Emperor of Wei in the history books: absurd.

—Trapping his teacher in the inner palace, turning a civil official into a male favorite, disregarding ethics, tormenting him thoroughly inside and out, and even despising etiquette by openly conferring a man the title of concubine. How could that not be absurd?

And this moment was the beginning of all that absurdity.

Even to this day, Jiang Xun still remembered his initial impression of Shen Que.

Good-looking, but detestable.

Shen Que was Jiang Xun's teacher, but not just Jiang Xun's teacher alone. He was a famous scholar of the current age, with disciples all over the world. Heir of Pingnan, Xue Jin, was Shen Que's younger cousin. When he came to the Capital City to study in his early years, it was also Shen Que who taught him.

At that time, when Shen Que was teaching the princes in the Hongwen Pavilion, Jiang Xun was the most inconspicuous one. The late emperor had dozens of princes, and their maternal families were all of noble birth. Only Jiang Xun was born of a palace maid. He was conceived after the late emperor favored her while drunk. He was lowly and easily bullied. If it weren't for the fact that his older brothers fought so fiercely, resulting in deaths and injuries, it would never have been his turn to take the throne.

During those years in the Hongwen Pavilion, Jiang Xun often sat in the corner. His mother was illiterate and couldn't teach him. He had never received any early education, so he was equally illiterate. He held his writing brush crookedly, and his handwriting was worse than chicken scratch.

At that time, Shen Que would be up front explaining the classics, history, philosophy, and literature, full of scholarly jargon that Jiang Xun couldn't understand. Sometimes, when Shen Que assigned coursework, his brows would always furrow whenever he graded Jiang Xun's.

Shen Que said: "Rotten wood cannot be carved."

A youth's self-esteem is always delicate and sensitive. This was especially true for Jiang Xun, who was of lowly birth and had mingled with the palace servants for several years. It wasn't until he grew taller and it was no longer appropriate for him to be among the palace maids that the late emperor officially recognized him as a prince. Hearing Shen Que say this, he crushed the coursework in his hands. He thought, 'This lofty, aloof face is truly repulsive. It deserves to be torn off, thrown into the mud, and crushed into pieces.'

Now that Shen Que had come to plead for Xue Jin, Jiang Xun saw how anxious he was for Xue Jin. Recalling those years in the Hongwen Pavilion, where, as a fellow student, he could only get the evaluation of "rotten wood cannot be carved," a fire instantly ignited in his heart. His mind was filled with only one thought: he wanted revenge.

He thought to himself, 'What could be more humiliating in this world than turning a scholar into a male favorite, turning a teacher into a plaything, and trapping him in the deep palace to be toyed with?'

Therefore, he summoned Shen Que.

Jiang Xun remembered the warmth of the red candles and bed curtains that night. Shen Que suppressed his voice, forbearing and restrained. The way those eyes looked at him changed from disbelief, to humiliation, to despair, and finally turned into a pool of stagnant water.

Like ink smudging across rice paper.

At the time, Jiang Xun thought he had indeed crushed this man.

Seeing him deep in thought, System 55 felt even more hopeful and cheered him on enthusiastically: "Host, recall your initial hatred for him! You can do it! You've got this!"

Jiang Xun remained silent.

Having died once and with so many years having passed, his feelings had long since become blurred. What was there left to hate?

After embracing the burning coals, his soul didn't immediately reincarnate. Instead, it wandered nearby for a full seven days before departing.

Within those seven days, he watched the iron hooves of Northern Di trample into the imperial city. A massive fire broke out in the Capital City. In the north of the city, a mother cradled her starved child; in the west, a wife clung to her burned husband. Carbonized roof beams came crashing down, crushing the elderly who couldn't run fast enough.

Dark clouds loomed heavily over the entire Capital City. Spiritual bodies were exceptionally sensitive to pain, and the overwhelming emotions nearly swallowed Jiang Xun whole. He was trapped in the center of the vortex, unable to break free.

To this day, recalling the scenes from back then still made him want to vomit, to the point where he completely forgot his teenage love and hate, humiliation, and unwillingness.

Besides, if anyone should harbor hatred, it should be Shen Que hating him.

At this very moment, Jiang Xun's only thought was: 'Shen Que cannot be crippled.'

Shen Que's legs were ruined from kneeling in the palace.

Back when studying in the Hongwen Pavilion, Jiang Xun always had to look up to him. Shen Que would hold a scroll and look down at the princes, his aloofness making him detestable. Later, when Jiang Xun summoned him into the imperial palace, he almost never let him stand up.

Later, when Great Wei's national power waned, Shen Que took advantage of the chaos to leave. He crossed the river to assist Xue Jin and became the founding Prime Minister of Great Liang.

He was indeed a heaven-sent genius. If it weren't for him, Xue Jin's expulsion of Northern Di would have been delayed by ten years.

However, during the major campaigns, Shen Que's crippled legs caused significant delays. Later historians frequently imagined what those campaigns would have been like had Shen Que not been crippled.

For the sake of the empire and its people, Shen Que could not be crippled.

Jiang Xun dragged the cursor, carefully reading the system's description word by word and sentence by sentence. Then, he pulled over a piece of scratch paper and listed out the key points one by one.

So, how he tormented him wasn't important; what was important was that Shen Que couldn't be crippled.

Jiang Xun drew a circle with his writing brush: "First, I have to make him kneel for another two hours, right?"

System 55 nodded.

Jiang Xun: "Second, I need to have intimate contact with him. I have to toy with him, right?"

System 55 continued nodding.

Jiang Xun: "Then, I need to make a demand: if he wants to save Xue Jin, he must stay and be my male favorite." As he spoke, he drew a heavy line underneath it. "This is necessary dialogue."

System 55 still nodded.

Jiang Xun started on another piece of scratch paper: "The loopholes are: kneeling for two hours, but the location isn't restricted; intimate contact in the bathroom, but the details aren't restricted; toying with him means physical contact, but the method isn't restricted. These changes won't affect my score, right?"

System 55 nodded frantically: "Mhm, mhm, mhm!"

It was about to burst into tears.

A straight-A student is truly a straight-A student! What kind of god-tier host was this?! He actually knew how to do reading comprehension! Look at this clear organization and rigorous logic, analyzing the angst points word by word. He was nothing like its previous hosts!

And he even listened to its opinions! System 55 hadn't felt this valued in a long time!

This round was a guaranteed 85!

Jiang Xun: "Alright, I understand."

Right at that moment, someone knocked three times on the door. Wang An's voice came from the other side: "Your Majesty, the person has been brought here."

Jiang Xun tossed the paper into the charcoal basin. "Summon him."

When Shen Que walked in, Jiang Xun first glanced at his legs.

It had rained in the Capital City. In the dead of winter, the rain was barely warmer than ice. Shen Que had just been kneeling alone on the bluestone pavement. The green robe on his body was mostly soaked, and puddles had submerged his knees. His legs had soaked in it for a long while and had already lost all feeling. Now, with sudden movement, the blood flowed back, bringing a wave of soreness, numbness, pain, and an itching sensation that nearly made him unable to stand.

Wang An stepped over the threshold with him. Shen Que's posture was stiff. As soon as he stepped inside, he supported himself against the doorframe and knelt down once again.

As his slightly recovered knees touched the ground again, the pain was even worse. His skin felt as though it were being pricked by needles, like tens of thousands of ants biting into him.

Shen Que endured it without a word, kowtowing as he said: "Your Majesty."

Shen Que didn't know why Jiang Xun was willing to summon him, nor did he know how much longer he would have to kneel.

Jiang Xun looked at him. Having not seen him in decades, Shen Que's appearance was exactly the same as in his memories. Wearing a dark cyan official's uniform and a winged hat, he looked upright and elegant, like a scholar stepping out of an ancient painting.

Jiang Xun's gaze lingered on Shen Que's knees for a moment. Right now, this pair of legs hadn't yet grown accustomed to prolonged kneeling, nor had the knees deformed inward. Looking at the lines of his calves through the official robes, they still appeared well-proportioned and straight.

He remembered the feel of these legs.

Long, slender, and smooth. After kneeling for so long that they lost all strength, they could only hang limply, unable to even be pulled together.

Under the emperor's inexplicable gaze, Shen Que raised his hands level with his brows: "This subject has a memorial to present."

Jiang Xun didn't speak.

In the silence, Shen Que's legs trembled slightly before he silently straightened his kneeling posture. He maintained the stance of raising his hands. After holding it for so long, his arms began to tremble, but he did not pull them back.

To summon him but ignore him—Shen Que somewhat understood Jiang Xun's intention. It was nothing more than feeling that kneeling far away made it hard to see his expression clearly, so he needed to be placed right under his nose for better appreciation.

Meanwhile, Jiang Xun was looking at System 55's light screen.

The baseline was 85 points, and the plot required him to kneel for another two hours. He couldn't tell Shen Que to get up, but he couldn't just let him kneel like this either.

Jiang Xun rolled over and got out of bed. Without putting on shoes, he stepped barefoot on the floor. There was no underfloor heating in this era; they relied entirely on burning charcoal. The palace was paved with blue bricks, and stepping on them was barely warmer than being outside.

As the chill darted up from the soles of his feet, Jiang Xun furrowed his brows.

Wang An hurriedly stepped forward and knelt down to serve him in putting on his shoes. Jiang Xun kicked his bare foot against his shoulder and scolded: "In the dead of winter, do I absolutely have to wear shoes just to walk around the room? Why are the mats in this room so thin? Go fetch a few more layers of carpets."

The emperor had just fallen from his horse and was still ill; a heavy gloom pressed between his brows.

Wang An hastily replied: "Right away, right away."

When a emperor summoned his officials, he should be properly dressed to show respect. The feet were extremely private areas and shouldn't be exposed, let alone in front of a teacher. But Jiang Xun was a fatuous ruler, so no one dared to say a word.

Shen Que caught a glimpse of the color of his toenails from the corner of his eye and lowered his gaze, looking away.

Jiang Xun, on the other hand, stretched his toes and slightly curled them up.

The atmosphere in the twentieth century was open-minded; wearing sandals or flip-flops and showing off your feet was very normal. But now, within the inner palace walls where everyone was neatly dressed, him being the only one like this felt a bit strange.

Before long, palace servants came in with thick floor mats and meticulously laid them out. They lifted the stools and tables, stretching the mats flat. Then, they looked at Shen Que with awkward expressions.

The stools and tables could be lifted, but this Lord Shen stuck kneeling here... should they lift him up too?

Wang An glanced at the emperor. Jiang Xun was half-lying on the bed, his toes casually tapping the ground, not looking in their direction. He lowered his voice: "Lord Shen, please raise... uh, raise your noble legs."

"..."

Shen Que had no choice but to shift his knees and kneel slightly to the side.

Once they had laid down a layer, Jiang Xun stuck his calf out from the bed curtains and stepped on it with his bare foot: "Not soft enough. Lay down two more layers."

Wang An wiped the sweat from the tip of his nose and directed the palace servants to lay down another two layers.

The tables, chairs, and stools were lifted once again. Shen Que, stuck in the middle, had to shift once more.

Jiang Xun tested it out and was satisfied.

Four thick layers of mats were laid down in the room. Stepping on it felt like cotton, resembling a thickened futon cushion. Kneeling on this for two hours wouldn't harm his knees.

Thus, Jiang Xun waved his hand to dismiss Wang An. Wearing only his inner garments and barefoot, he walked a lap around the room, completely ignoring Shen Que. Then, he pulled a book from the bookshelf and started reading it carefully.

The book was a landscape travelogue detailing the rivers and mountains of the current dynasty. The author had traveled north and south, recording the various lakes and rivers one by one. It could be said to be the Great Wei version of the Commentary on the Water Classic.

If Jiang Xun remembered correctly, he would soon encounter the greatest famine in the history of Great Wei, and the cause of the famine was a drought.

A drought was a natural disaster, but it could be mitigated by building canals. He appeared to be reading a leisure book, but in his mind, he was going over the water conservancy projects of later generations. Once the two-hour time limit was up, Jiang Xun tossed the book aside: "Beloved Minister Shen, tell me. What matter do you have to memorialize?"

Shen Que then said in a hoarse voice: "This subject wishes to memorialize the matter of Marquis of Zhenbei's heir, Xue Jin, disturbing the Imperial Presence."

Having said this, he bowed his body and lowered his head, kowtowing deeply to the ground.

As his forehead touched the ground, his arms and knees simultaneously flared with soreness. Biting the tip of his tongue, Shen Que repeated once again: "This subject wishes to memorialize the matter of Marquis of Zhenbei's heir, Xue Jin, disturbing the Imperial Presence."

As soon as these words came out, Jiang Xun was in a daze for a moment.

The current scene was exactly the same as in his past life. Jiang Xun thought that after experiencing so much, he would have long forgotten the beginning of it all. But with his old country and old acquaintance reappearing before his eyes, he realized that his memory was far more profound than he had imagined.

After the silence, the young emperor looked at the System's screen and mockingly laughed according to his lines from his past life: "The consequences of bringing up this matter, Teacher surely understands, right?"

Shen Que's forehead rested on the ground: "...This subject understands."

Shen Que understood the consequences of speaking these words. The emperor had fallen from his horse and was unhappy, so he was bound to find someone to vent his anger on. This matter could not be resolved peacefully; Shen Que understood this as well.

But that person could not be Xue Jin.

Xue Jin was the heir of the Marquis of Zhenbei. There was a severe drought on the grasslands this year, and Northern Di had suffered countless losses of cattle and sheep. They were bound to come south to pillage. The Marquis of Zhenbei was one of the primary commanders of the north and had managed the region for a long time. If they rashly touched the only son he had spoiled and raised, the Zhenbei Army might mutiny.

And since the Zhenbei Army was the main force in the north, once they mutinied, the rescue forces from the other armies would be insufficient. The north would lose all its barriers, allowing Northern Di to drive straight in. The consequences would be unimaginable.

If Jiang Xun absolutely had to find someone to vent his anger on, Shen Que was willing to use his own body to take his place.