Chapter 0282: Bones in the Poetry Buddha’s Verse, the Silk Tree and Longing Ants

Shen Yuan truly lived up to his reputation as the top talent of Jingcheng.

He effortlessly composed verses and poems, weaving together ornate yet slightly cloying phrases—first praising Xie Chengze’s sharp intellect, then his exceptional culinary skills, followed by his kindness and gentleness, and finally his unyielding integrity.

After exhausting all praises for his virtues and spirit, Shen Yuan moved on to compliment his appearance: cheeks like cherry blossoms, skin like congealed cream, lips as red as winter plum, and willow-leaf eyebrows.

Having praised every feature and limb, Shen Yuan, still unsatisfied, began extolling even his hair strands and eyelashes, fingernails and palm lines.

Finally, he crossed into absurdity by lauding his bones as exceptionally robust—rare bones seldom seen in this world, the very bones described in some Poetry Buddha’s verse—hoping they would hear and heal quickly so their owner need not suffer through more medicine.

Xie Chengze: …

Xie Chengze wanted to laugh but didn’t dare—any mirth risked aggravating the pain in his bones and organs.

He gazed skyward with utter resignation, listening as Shen Yuan showered him with praises for a full two hours without repeating a single word, until he grew thoroughly weary of all compliments he’d ever receive in this lifetime.

Ah, men—what remains unattainable is always most cherished.

He never wanted to hear praises again.

Sighing inwardly, Xie Chengze finally seized the moment when Shen Yuan paused to drink water and changed the subject: “By the way, Shen Yuan, did you know…” He hesitated. “…that Jinyu has also been reborn?”

Shen Yuan’s hand, holding the water bowl, stilled momentarily before he nodded. “Yes.”

“Since he’s reborn too, then the Pingcheng earthquake… might it be resolved more smoothly?”

After all, neither he nor Shen Yuan held real power. Relocating over two hundred thousand people would be extremely difficult without court support.

Originally, he thought Emperor Jian and Xie Jinyu would never allocate hundreds of thousands of silver taels from the national treasury based solely on their word—unlike the predicted northern snow disaster foretold by the Directorate of Celestial Observation, the Pingcheng earthquake lacked official prophecy.

But now things were different. Xie Jinyu, being reborn, knew the major earthquake would strike Pingcheng. Once he obtained the Imperial Jade Seal and ascended the throne, he could override opposition, allocate funds from the treasury, and support quake-resistant relocations for people in Pingcheng and surrounding prefectures.

Seeing hope dawn on Xie Chengze’s face, Shen Yuan felt a pang of sorrow.

He leaned down and gently ruffled his hair. “Your Highness, don’t trouble yourself with these matters. The physician said you must avoid excessive worry.”

Xie Chengze blinked, murmuring in protest, “It’s not really excessive worry…”

“Chengze.” Shen Yuan called him by his personal name for the first time. “I’m afraid.”

Xie Chengze always felt he didn’t belong in this world—only the reborn Shen Yuan shared his exceptional, unique status, becoming someone he could rely on to confide their shared anxiety and dread of the known future.

Shen Yuan felt exactly the same.

Gazing at the familiar faces of those who once fought beside him, his mind conjured not their joyful expressions but their gruesome deaths—slain by blades, beheaded by guillotines, pierced by countless arrows—and their agonized cries against disloyal ministers and unfit rulers.

And in his dreams, their furious accusations of his incompetence.

The guilt of failing to save them haunted Shen Yuan, making him unable to look at them directly. He was only human—no matter how high his rank, he remained tormented by incurable nightmares that jolted him awake at midnight, leaving his heart frozen in dread.

After being reborn, he had nowhere to confide, no outlet for his emotions.

He could only bear the heavy past alone.

He thought he would have to conceal this secret for a lifetime, until he discovered that his former mortal enemy now housed another soul within his body.

This new soul understood his ambitions, comprehended his state of mind. When he hadn’t recruited any former comrades and found himself trapped with no one to rescue him, this person would come riding alone through the snow, donning women’s attire to climb the bandit mountain, just to confirm his safety.

He was Shen Yuan’s medicine, the remedy that made Shen Yuan smile inexplicably when waking from nightmares in the middle of the night, allowing him to fall back into deep sleep.

Xie Chengze couldn’t accept Shen Yuan leaving this world before him, and Shen Yuan equally couldn’t bear the thought of Xie Chengze departing first.

Like the silk tree and its longing ants.

When Shen Yuan saw Sheng Shihai gathering internal energy to kill Xie Chengze, he truly panicked. He bitterly resented himself for almost being too late, for nearly losing Xie Chengze.

He wanted him to live long.

In that moment, Shen Yuan finally understood Emperor Jian’s feelings.

He didn’t pray for Xie Chengze to rule the world, nor for him to become worshiped by thousands of families. He only wished for his peace year after year, for his longevity spanning a century.

Suddenly, Shen Yuan felt a cool, small hand caressing his cheek. Returning to his senses, he realized he had been crying.

The young man looked surprised as he wiped away Shen Yuan’s tears, appearing flustered and uneasy. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Aren’t I perfectly fine here?”

He tried to make the man smile. “You might not know this, but where I come from, people like me with transmigrated souls are always the protagonists! No matter how terrible things get, we’re destined to survive!”

“You’re also a protagonist,” Xie Chengze whispered mysteriously. “So neither of us will die.”

Seeing his smug, triumphant little expression, Shen Yuan couldn’t help but chuckle. He tightened his grip on the cool hand against his face, warming it gradually with the heat from his palm. “Indeed, we won’t die, but we will grow old, we might go bald.”

“Your Highness, don’t you want to remain the number one beauty under heaven anymore?”

Xie Chengze blushed slightly, muttering, “This prince was just…” just saying whatever came to mind.

“Promise me you’ll stop worrying.”

Shen Yuan half-knelt on the ground, the noble-looking handsome man in white pressing his right hand over the young man’s hand on his cheek. He looked up at the lord he had resolved to follow in this lifetime, their humble yet devout gaze meeting the young ruler’s eyes beneath the vast blue sky.

“Leave what comes next to me and the Crown Prince.”

Xie Chengze’s lips moved slightly. Finally, unable to withstand the intense emotion in the man’s gaze, he gave a slight nod.

The tips of his ears couldn’t help but turn red secretly.

Why did Shen Yuan have to suddenly make things so sentimental and sincere? He was about to die of embarrassment, truly about to explode with shyness!

…

The next day, Xie Jinyu came to visit the patient.

Perhaps having been thoroughly instructed beforehand, when he came to see Xie Chengze, he didn’t appear with his usual dark, mad demeanor. Instead, he sat quietly nearby, gently resting his head on Xie Chengze’s thigh.

Xie Chengze didn’t know what to say either, simply raising his hand to stroke the head of Xie Jinyu, whose eyes were shadowed with dark circles, again and again. Just like when he used to hold the Crown Prince, his younger brother, while sleeping during their childhood, gently stroking the back of his head to reassure him that he was always there.

The weight on his leg grew heavier. By the time Xie Chengze noticed, Xie Jinyu had already fallen asleep with his head pillowed on Xie Chengze’s thigh.

The gloomy young man slept with tightly furrowed brows, as if trapped in an inescapable nightmare. His knuckles were clenched so fiercely they turned pale and grayish. Trembling all over, he murmured “Second Brother” in broken whispers, glistening teardrops seeping from the corners of his eyes. Only when Xie Chengze stroked the back of his head while repeating “Second Brother is here” did the young man gradually cease trembling and sink into deep slumber.

Gazing at his utterly exhausted sleeping face, Xie Chengze couldn’t help but wonder.

After the Second Prince was assassinated on the Dragon Throne.

Had Xie Jinyu ever enjoyed a single day of peaceful sleep?