Chapter 113.

Uju’s situation turned out far better than anyone could have expected.

Yin Chengyu, after a moment’s reflection, understood why. This black pearl of the grasslands was no delicate flower—far from it. She was resilient, flexible, and sharp, like the untamed wild grass that thrived in harsh terrain. Her greatest skill was exploiting every opportunity, every resource, to carve out an advantage for herself.

She was no ordinary woman. Uju was ambitious and cunning.

That realization only strengthened Yin Chengyu’s confidence in their potential alliance. Unhurried and self-assured, he seated himself opposite her and broke the silence in a low, deliberate voice:

"The vast, untamed grasslands are where wild horses belong. Tell me, Princess, are you truly content to be caged here, locked away in the back quarters? My third brother—he’s nothing short of ambitious. No matter whether his schemes succeed or fail, your fate under his shadow won’t be a kind one. Haven’t you ever thought of forging a way out for yourself?"

Ah, how he knew exactly where to strike.

The mention of Yin Chengjing, that pathetic excuse of a man, was like salt in a wound. Just the thought of him made Uju sick to her stomach. Back during the winter hunt at Danxi, she’d already found him insufferable. After their marriage, when his true self became clear, her disgust deepened—and so did her hatred for Xue Shu, the one who’d orchestrated their union.

But here she was now, a princess married off for peace, stranded in Great Yan, weak and alone. Neither the Crown Prince nor Xue Shu were enemies she could hope to confront directly.

Her eyes burned with fury as she shot a venomous look at Xue Shu, standing coldly to the side. Her smile was sharp and filled with mockery. "And whose handiwork do you think got me here? Wasn’t it the loyal dog you keep by your side, doing your dirty work so well?"

She scoffed, downing a cup of chilled wine to maintain her composure. "And now, is the Crown Prince here to shed crocodile tears for me?"

Her biting tone didn’t faze Yin Chengyu in the slightest. Xue Shu, on the other hand, was less patient. His gaze darkened, hand drifting to the hilt of the blade at his side, cold and threatening as he locked his predator-like eyes on her.

Uju had encountered Xue Shu’s viciousness before, during the winter hunt. Her instincts flared at the sight, and her hand tightened on the whip hidden within her left sleeve.

The air grew tense, suffocatingly so. Silence stretched between them, bristling with danger.

Yin Chengyu glanced at Xue Shu, a subtle command. Xue Shu released his grip on his weapon, though his gaze remained fixed on Uju—feral, menacing, as if daring her to make the first move.

Her lips curled into a smile, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she taunted him. "What a well-trained dog."

Xue Shu’s expression remained impassive, unmoved by her barb.

Yin Chengyu leaned in slightly, his voice as smooth as a serpent’s whisper. "Princess, have you truly never thought of returning to the grasslands? That’s where you belong—your battlefield."

Of course she had thought about it.

From the moment Aharu brought her to the winter hunt, scheming to entice the Crown Prince into a marriage alliance, she had never planned to stay in Great Yan forever. The Khan would march south one day, and her duty was to remain in Great Yan, feeding the Khan critical intelligence and stirring chaos in Great Yan’s court.

Her return to the grasslands was meant to coincide with the Khan’s triumphant invasion.

She could still recall the wild freedom of the plains—the untethered joy of galloping across endless horizons, a life of boundless liberty that the cloistered women of Great Yan’s courts could never fathom.

But now? All of it had been derailed by these two men. She’d been married off, grounded, her wings clipped. She was nothing more than a discarded pawn.

Her voice turned bitter. "The Khan has many children. He doesn’t need a discarded piece like me."

"But the northern grasslands are vast," Yin Chengyu countered, his gaze sharp and patient, as if baiting her with a carefully laid trap. "The Tatars aren’t the only power out there." He paused deliberately, each word calculated. "I hear the Princess has sacrificed much for the Khan’s ambitions. But tell me, when push comes to shove, will he treat you as anything more than disposable? Have you truly never thought of taking his place?"

Taking his place.

The idea struck deep, an intoxicating temptation she couldn’t ignore. For a fleeting moment, she was spellbound. Then reality crashed back in, and she snapped her gaze to him, sharp with mockery.

"I’m not so foolish as to let you talk me into walking into my own death."

Her father, the Khan of the Tatars, was barely over forty, a man in his prime—unstoppable, unmatched. Even the mightiest warrior of the plains couldn’t hold a candle to his strength and prowess.

Standing at the pinnacle of power, he commanded countless wives, concubines, and a brood of children. Yet his throne was a tempting prize, eyed greedily by conquered tribal leaders, ambitious subordinates, and even his own offspring.

But those who dared make a move ended up as wolf feed. The rest? They bided their time, waiting for the day he would grow old and frail. That day, however, was still far, far away.

“There’s an old saying in Great Yan: ‘A whetstone from another mountain can sharpen jade,’” Yin Chengyu mused, his tone unhurried, calm despite failing to persuade his audience.

“Two tigers cannot share one mountain. The Tatars and the Oirat have been at odds for years, destined to clash. Word has reached me that the King of the Oirat is dead. His named successor, young Prince Mubai’er, lacks the support to secure the throne. Meanwhile, the elder Prince Muduo, backed by loyalists, is vying for power. The stalemate persists…”

His voice shifted, smooth and calculated. “Muduo is brave but lacks cunning. I’ve heard he even once tried to court the princess…”

“With your talents, Princess, if you were to join the Oirat, you’d thrive like a fish in water.”

His words, laced with temptation, made Uju’s gaze flicker.

It was true—Muduo had once expressed interest in her. But his intentions were no different from any other foolish man lured by her reputation as the ‘Black Pearl,’ craving to conquer what they couldn’t possess.

Times had changed. The Tatars had abandoned her. If she went to the Oirat, she was confident she could carve out a place for herself.

Whether drawn to her beauty or her insight into the Tatar court, Muduo would undoubtedly welcome her with open arms.

Her expression shifted subtly before she suppressed her doubts. “But I’m now the Third Prince’s consort.”

“And if the Third Prince were no longer in the picture? Who would care about his consort then?” Yin Chengyu’s smile carried a sharp edge.

Uju’s face flickered through a range of emotions before settling into a steely resolve. “What does His Highness want me to do?”

Yin Chengyu and Uju spoke at length, their conversation heavy with unspoken schemes.

As they finally stepped out of the courtyard, Xue Shu glanced back at the quiet estate, his voice low. “Is His Highness planning to use Uju to stir chaos in the northern plains?”

If it were only about dealing with Yin Chengjing, they could’ve managed without her cooperation. It would have just taken more time.

“The Tatars are already a formidable force. Now, with the Oirat in turmoil, the Khan’s ambition will only grow. He won’t sit idly by.”

If the Tatars consumed the Oirat, their power would swell, and it wouldn’t be long before they turned their blades toward their wealthier neighbors.

But Great Yan wasn’t in any state to endure war.

Better to let the northern plains descend into chaos, delaying the Tatars from unifying.

“If we send Princess Uju, renamed and disguised, to the Oirat, her ambition and cunning will ensure she disrupts their plans. She won’t let the Tatars swallow the Oirat so easily.”

“This time, she’s lucky,” Xue Shu muttered, recalling how Uju had met her end at his hands in another lifetime. He snorted, unwilling to dwell on it further.

The two rode out under the night sky, heading to Xue Shu’s estate.

The property lay on a quiet farmstead where the villagers had long since retired for the night. The only sounds were the rhythmic thuds of horse hooves and the chirping of crickets.

Before their arrival, Xue Shu had sent attendants to prepare the place. When they reached the estate, a servant stepped forward to take their horses. Sensitive to their identities, Xue Shu had kept the staff minimal—only a handful of guards on duty, with no extra eyes or ears around.

Xue Shu personally led Yin Chengyu to the main house.

Lanterns hung under the eaves, casting a soft glow. As Yin Chengyu strolled through the courtyard, he noticed the elegant, familiar arrangements. Entering the main hall, he spotted a lounge chair strikingly similar to the one in the Ciqing Palace chambers. His lips curled as he glanced sideways.

“You’ve gone to great lengths.”

Though modest in size, the mansion was nearly an exact replica of the prince’s favored layout from the Ciqing Palace.

"If Your Highness enjoys it, you could stay here more often in the future," Xue Shu said, his gaze tracing every inch of him with unmasked fervor. “There’s a lake not far behind the house, full of lotus roots. In summer, it blooms with lotuses—perfect for admiring flowers or boating.”

Yin Chengyu cast him a glance, neither agreeing nor refusing. “Where’s the bathhouse? I’ll bathe first.”

The lack of response left Xue Shu visibly dissatisfied. Pressing his lips together, he led the way. At the door, he hesitated, clearly wanting to follow inside, but Yin Chengyu waved him off. “Bring me a set of clothes.”

After a long ride on horseback, Yin Chengyu was undeniably weary.

Soaking in the steaming bath, he let the hot water rinse away the dust and exhaustion before changing into the undergarments Xue Shu had brought.

The moment the garment slipped over his shoulders, he arched a brow, noticing the sleeves extended far past his wrists—it clearly wasn’t his size.

Leaning down, he caught a faint whiff of the distinctive snow plum fragrance he knew all too well.

It wasn’t his. It was Xue Shu’s.

A smile curved his lips as he casually threw on a robe and returned to the main hall.

There, dim red candles flickered, filling the air with the same snow plum aroma, but Xue Shu was nowhere to be found.

Yin Chengyu didn’t rush to look for him. Instead, he wandered leisurely through the room, his gaze eventually falling on a wooden box atop a cabinet by the bed. It was unlocked.

Curious, he opened it, finding an assortment of trinkets inside—jade rings, handkerchiefs, robes, scrolls tied with red thread... and even a small, intricately crafted gag.

These were all things he had once given Xue Shu.

His fingers brushed over the seemingly insignificant items, all meticulously preserved, and a subtle wave of emotion stirred in his chest.

A warm body pressed against him from behind. At some point, Xue Shu had returned and now embraced him, lifting two jade rings from the box and sliding them onto Yin Chengyu’s fingers, his voice soft and reverent. “These are all gifts from Your Highness.”

Yin Chengyu allowed him to hold his hand, pointing to the neatly folded handkerchiefs with his other. “Even these? What exactly have you been using them for?”

He didn’t turn around, but Xue Shu didn’t need to see his expression to catch the teasing lilt in his voice.

Swallowing hard, Xue Shu’s breath grew heavier. Clutching the topmost handkerchief, he murmured close to Yin Chengyu’s ear, “Why doesn’t Your Highness test it yourself?”

The heated breath brushed against his ear and neck, raising goosebumps along his skin.

Yin Chengyu stepped away, giving him a sidelong glance before picking up the delicate gag from the box. Turning it over in his hands, he remarked casually, “I’ve never tried this before.”

His pale fingers played with the black leather straps attached to the gag, the stark contrast between the dark and light drawing all attention.

Xue Shu’s throat tightened, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes.

Yin Chengyu’s lips curled into a crimson smile as he pressed a hand against Xue Shu’s shoulder, pushing him down onto the bed. Xue Shu instinctively reached out to pull him closer, but Yin Chengyu pinned his arm down.

“Open your mouth.”

Their eyes locked, an undeniable heat burning between them.

It was Xue Shu who yielded first, parting his lips to take the gag from Yin Chengyu’s hand.

The small wooden piece fit snugly between his teeth, black leather straps hanging on either side. Though it should have made him look subdued, the ferocity in his sharp features and the storm in his dark eyes made him appear more like a wild beast forced into submission.

A sight that only begged to be tamed, to have its claws sheathed.

Yin Chengyu leaned down, his lips brushing against his eyelids in a slow, deliberate caress before his slender, knowing fingers moved with practiced ease, swiftly binding the straps behind his head. He lowered his head further, his breath hot against his ear as he tilted his head, his voice a low, husky command that vibrated with barely contained power, “Don’t move.”

...

The red candles burned well into the night.

Their flickering flames threw wild, dancing shadows all over the room, twisting and turning, creating this thick, hazy, intimate atmosphere that practically begged for sin. It was like the room itself was breathing, pulsing with a life of its own, fueled by the heat lust.

It was messy, it was raw, it was real.

Molten wax dripped steadily into the brass candleholder, forming a thick, solid pool.

Finally, Yin Chengyu untied the handkerchief and tossed it onto Xue Shu’s face, his voice laced with lingering irritation. “There won’t be a next time.”

Gagged and unable to speak, Xue Shu merely picked up the wrinkled handkerchief and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. His narrowed eyes gleamed with a shameless hunger, completely unapologetic.

Yin Chengyu clenched his teeth, feeling both exasperated and amused. This man truly had no sense of shame.

Snatching the handkerchief away, he threw it to the floor before hooking his finger under the black leather strap, his tone wicked. “Keep it on tonight. Don’t you dare take it off.”

———TN: #It was messy, it was raw, it was real.#

What is going on here? Seriously, what is happening that I’m being kept in the dark? Someone better tell me exactly what went down. Author, where can I find the uncensored version? Don’t leave me hanging—I need answers now.