Chapter 0123: Jealous and Angry Xie Chengze, Anxious Shen Yuan
But if he said nothing at all, Xie Chengze would feel even more aggrieved. He was never a tolerant or broad-minded person; on the contrary, his heart was as narrow as they came, and he held grudges faster than Hu Lai could cause trouble.
He pressed his lips into a tight line, straining to keep his eyes wide open as he tried to hold back the tears welling up. With a sarcastic tone, he snapped at Shen Yuan behind him, “If the Crown Prince is so wonderful, why don’t you go find him? Go talk to him—I’m sure he’d love to hear it!”
Hearing the young man’s jealous tone, Shen Yuan knew he was angry again.
But he couldn’t understand why Xie Chengze always dragged the Crown Prince into it whenever he got upset.
What did this have to do with the Crown Prince?
“This matter has nothing to do with the Crown Prince. What use would there be in telling him?” Shen Yuan reached out to turn his face back, only to find his fingers brushing against dampness.
“You’re crying?” Shen Yuan stared at the cool tears on his fingertips, stunned.
Aside from that time Xie Chengze had mumbled in his sleep about his dog breaking, Shen Yuan had never seen him cry. Even the Second Prince in his previous life never cried—at least, not in front of others.
Both of them had pride as unyielding as death.
Only then did Shen Yuan panic. He rose onto the kang and turned the young man’s entire body toward him. “I was teasing you. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just…”
Just… “I wanted to know if you really are the Second Prince, and what kind of relationship you have with him.”
Six months ago, Shen Yuan would never have dared to voice this question.
He feared that piercing the final layer between them and questioning each other before they had built enough trust would only push them apart, even onto opposing paths.
It wasn’t until he witnessed Xie Chengze building the Dujiangyan Irrigation System, presenting gunpowder and the heated kang to Emperor Jian, and rushing to Liaozhou immediately upon hearing of his disappearance, that Shen Yuan finally let down his guard and decided to place his trust in Xie Chengze.
He knew that if the Second Prince had been reborn, even if he resolved to do good in this life, he would at most act like Shen Yuan—removing corrupt officials in Yi Province, recovering embezzled silver, predicting snow disasters in Liaozhou to prevent calamities. He wouldn’t perform miracles like a deity descending to earth, transforming Yi Province’s barren lands against fate, leading the people to defy heaven’s will and conquer nature with human effort. Nor would he turn Liaozhou’s frozen lands into warm havens, freeing the people from the bitter cold.
This version of Xie Chengze truly resembled the “Heaven-sent Lucky Star” of the Jian’an Dynasty, as proclaimed in the Heavenly Decree by the Directorate of Celestial Observation.
He was willing to believe, just once, that perhaps the reason for his own rebirth was connected to this “Xie Chengze.”
Wiping away the remaining tears at the corner of the young man’s eyes with his thumb, Shen Yuan lowered his head and coaxed softly, “This subject was wrong. Your Highness, please don’t cry.”
He had only wanted to provoke him, test his feelings, and make him tell the truth.
Xie Chengze turned his face away and sneered coldly, “If I’m not the Second Prince, then who else could I be?”
“The Second Prince would never use the word ‘I’ when speaking to this subject,” Shen Yuan replied with a soft smile, lowering his gaze. “Nor would he ever permit this subject to refer to himself as ‘I’ in Your Highness’s presence.”
As if a floodgate had opened, he began listing the differences between them, his eyes filled with a tenderness he himself hadn’t noticed. “Your Highness is clever and resourceful. Though you enjoy throwing petty tantrums, you never lose your temper to the point of killing. But the Second Prince was moody and unpredictable; the slightest displeasure would make him want to take lives. Countless capable ministers and fine generals perished by his hand.”
“Your Highness distinguishes loyalty from treachery with clarity, your heart ever devoted to the people, channeling all acquired wealth for their welfare. Yet the Second Prince sees only power and riches, willing to plunge the realm into chaos—corpses strewn across fields, bones piled high—to satisfy his greed.”
“If the Second Prince learned of my disappearance, he would likely clap his hands in delight. Of course, he would send men to search for me, but only to deliver two extra stabs to my corpse before tossing it to the wild dogs of the mass graves…”
“Pfft.” Xie Chengze couldn’t suppress a chuckle, then quickly straightened his expression, pressing his lips into a feigned solemn line.
“Only Your Highness, upon learning of my absence, would worry for my safety—even daring to venture into danger personally to find me.” Shen Yuan’s voice grew softer. Under the moonlight, his eyes shimmered like hidden constellations as he gazed at the young man lying on the kang. “Shen Yuan is a reborn man. And what of Your Highness?”
Shen Yuan’s abrupt candor caught Xie Chengze off guard. Meeting Shen Yuan’s profound, shadowed gaze, he detected faint traces of tension and unease.
Could someone who once dominated the imperial court as The Powerful Minister also feel unsettled?
What was he uneasy about?
Fear that he wouldn’t confess truthfully? Fear that his trust would be misplaced?
Or fear that he remained the wicked Second Prince, steeped in evil?
Though the man before him was anxious, Xie Chengze felt an urge to laugh. That flicker of unease in the other’s eyes only fueled his own boldness, lifting his spirits.
He arched his brows slightly, deliberately provoking, “I’m afraid if I speak, Lord Shen might be frightened.”
“Shen Yuan fears nothing.” Shen Yuan lowered his head, gently wiping away the last trace of moisture at the corner of the young man’s eye. Calmly, he stated, “I have died once and am prepared to die again. If I do not fear death, what else could daunt me?”
“Very well.” Xie Chengze cleared his throat lightly before adopting a serious tone. “I am a soul inhabiting another’s body. I am also called Xie Chengze, but I am not the Second Prince. I merely ended up possessing this body—someone who shares the same name—by chance.”
Possession?
This was the last answer Shen Yuan expected.
Though rural folklore spoke of spirit possession, Shen Yuan had never believed in ghosts or deities. Even if he suspected Xie Chengze was a lookalike stand-in for the Second Prince, he never imagined “spirit possession.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Seeing Shen Yuan’s silence, Xie Chengze sprang up from the kang, urgency in his voice. “At first, I didn’t believe it either—how could souls exist? But it’s true: I am here. Think—would your Second Prince know how to build the Dujiangyan Irrigation System? Create gunpowder? Construct a heated kang? Would he be here, speaking with you calmly and honestly?”
The young man pointed to his own chest. “Don’t forget, in your past life, you stabbed him to death yourself—with your Jian’an Sword.”
Shen Yuan’s pupils contracted sharply, his gaze dropping to the youth’s chest. “If you are merely a wandering soul possessing this body, how do you know of past-life events?”
“Uh…” Xie Chengze fell silent. He couldn’t very well say this was a world inside a book—that would sound even more absurd and unbelievable than spirit possession.
Clearing his throat, he decided to use the explanation he had prepared. “Have you forgotten? I am a blessed star descended from heaven, a celestial being in mortal form. Isn’t it natural for me to know a bit about past lives?”
Shen Yuan raised an eyebrow. “If you truly are a celestial descended, then you should know why I am here and why I have stayed.”
Xie Chengze: “…”
“When immortals descend to the mortal realm, they always come to endure tribulations, so part of their memories must be sealed,” Xie Chengze muttered. “I’m mortal now, and mortals tend to become forgetful when they age. Isn’t it normal to forget some things? Just like—do you remember what you ate on this day last year, or what color your shit was?”
Shen Yuan: “…”
Smooth-talking and utterly unserious.
Shen Yuan didn’t care why Xie Chengze knew so much; all he cared about was that Xie Chengze wasn’t the Second Prince.
Teasingly, and also to probe further, he asked, “Then what has the immortal prince come to the mortal realm for?”
“To eat well, drink well, and sleep well, of course!” Xie Chengze immediately replied, patting the warm kang beneath him proudly. “Look at this kang! So warm! The wish to sleep well is already fulfilled!”
His desires were incredibly simple, yet the means to fulfill them were grand and magnificent. To eat and drink well, he sought to create a land of abundance; to sleep well at night, he invented this warm kang. It seemed he was indulging himself, but in reality, he was benefiting all the common people.
Clearly, his words were tough, but his heart was soft.
Shen Yuan felt a slight stir in his heart. He draped the quilt over the young man’s slender frame to prevent him from catching a chill, then said, “If Your Highness truly wishes to sleep well, a warm kang alone isn’t enough.”
“Huh?” Xie Chengze was puzzled by his words, then suddenly thought of something and blushed, mumbling, “Ahem, well! That’s true… we’re still missing a warm person to hold in the bed.”
Shen Yuan: ?
Was that what he meant?!