Chapter 129.

In the stillness of the room, Yin Chengyu's palm pressed gently against Xue Shu’s face, his voice cutting through the silence once more.

"What are you afraid of?"

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hand to cover Yin Chengyu's, threading his fingers through, guiding his hand down to Yin Chengyu's lips. His dark, narrow eyes seemed to hold a depth that went on forever, unreadable and intense. His throat bobbed with unspoken words, caught and silenced by the pale hand now resting on his mouth. No sound escaped—only the damp warmth of his tongue brushing against Yin Chengyu's palm.

Xue Shu was licking Yin Chengyu's hand.

The action carried a vulnerable desperation, like a silent confession he couldn’t voice aloud.

Yin Chengyu’s fingers trembled faintly, but he didn’t pull away. He waited, motionless, as the licking stopped. Xue Shu’s straight nose brushed against the inside of Yin Chengyu's fingers, and a muffled, hoarse voice finally seeped through the gaps in his hand.

"Once Your Highness ascends to the throne... the ministers will likely petition for an empress."

Yet he refrained from mentioning Empress Dowager Yu's ongoing search for suitable noblewomen of marriageable age.

Yin Chengyu's eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and stared at the damp sheen in her palm, then unhurriedly wiped it clean on Xue Shu's inner robes.

“So all this time, you’ve been sulking over that?”

A low grunt rumbled from Xue Shu’s throat—a reluctant admission.

Yin Chengyu’s lips curved into a mocking smile.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Yin Chengyu propped himself up, his eyes burning into Xue Shu’s with a predatory gleam.

He leaned in, his lips, full and sensual, grazing Xue Shu’s eyelids, a subtle but undeniable power play. He traced the sharp angle of his nose, each touch a deliberate tease, a slow torture that built the tension to a breaking point.

When his lips finally met Xue Shu’s, it was a masterful stroke, a slow, deliberate kiss that was both a comfort and a provocation, a promise of pleasure and a threat of domination. It was a carefully orchestrated seduction, designed to strip away Xue Shu’s defenses, leaving him vulnerable.

The tender affection shifted, tinged now with something darker.

Xue Shu’s instincts flared, and he tried to flip their positions, but Yin Chengyu shoved him back down, pinning him effortlessly. Propped up on his elbows, his body hovered just out of reach. His throat bobbed subtly as he spoke, voice rich with command.

"Don’t move."

Xue Shu froze, his eyes dark with primal need barely held in check. eir gazes tangled, locked in a silent clash, as Yin Chengyu leaned back. His fingers Th toyed with the ties of Xue Shu’s robe, undoing them with infuriating patience before he leaned in closer—

———TN: Blowjob?!

The unexpected shift sent a jolt of raw shock through Xue Shu, tension ripping through his body. Veins bulged on his forehead, and he instinctively grabbed Yin Chengyu’s shoulders, trying to stop him.

“Your Highness, don’t—”

Yin Chengyu glanced up from below, his upturned phoenix eyes glistening with a seductive glint that sent heat flooding through him. His lips curled slightly as he interlocked their fingers, his grip firm and unrelenting.

The sheer force of his control had him on the brink of collapse, the sinews of his arm taut, veins standing out like a map of his restraint.

This right here makes it crystal clear just how wildly off the rails Xue Shu is right now.

He relished it. The power, the dominance, the way he unraveled beneath him.

Yin Chengyu's gaze glittered like shattered moonlight, cool yet intoxicating.

...

This time, it didn’t last as long as usual.

Yin Chengyu straightened, his delicate throat shifting as he swallowed. His lips, red and swollen, glistened faintly as he licked the corner of his mouth with a trace of disdain. His voice was rough, tinged with deliberate cruelty.

“Tastes terrible.”

———TN: "Oh my God... he's really going down on him, giving a full-on blowjob."

And yet, he leaned in again, brushing his lips against XueShu’s. The faint tang of blood mingled between them, and Xue Shu finally snapped. Grabbing the back of his head, he kissed Yin Chengyu hard, fierce, and unrestrained.

When they finally broke apart, a thin silver thread still connected their lips.

Using two fingers, Yin Chengyu wiped the blood from his lips and smeared it onto his face.

"Other than you, there will never be anyone else. Does that put your mind at ease?"

Xue Shu let out a low, muffled grunt of acknowledgment, his thoughts scattered as the remnants of ecstasy lingered.

Yin Chengyu cast him a sidelong glance, then rose to fetch tea, leaving him disoriented and utterly undone.

*

The next day, Zheng Duobao kept a discreet eye on the two of them, noting their expressions. Both His Highness and Xue Shu were full of smiles, clearly in good spirits. Only then did he allow himself to relax.

His Highness finally found someone he could truly connect with. There was no room for unnecessary friction anymore.

Thanks to the comforting words from the night before, Xue Shu was no longer as restless. While not entirely at ease, he had returned to his usual composed self. After helping Yin Chengyu wash up, Xue Shu accompanied him to the Hongren Hall. There, he gave a quick rundown of trivial instructions to the attending eunuchs—how often to change the tea, keep it warm, and such. Once everything was in order, he left for the Directorate of Ceremonies to handle official duties.

With the enthronement ceremony just two days away, the Directorate was swamped. While most responsibilities fell on the Ministry of Rites, the Directorate had its hands full with coordination. Xue Shu, of course, left nothing to chance. Whether major or minor, every matter had to go through him before he could breathe easy.

By the time the sun began to set, he’d finally wrapped up all the preparations. Exhausted but efficient, he stepped out of the Directorate and began making his way back to the Ciqing Palace.

Halfway there, he ran into Xie Yunchuan.

This man, a star in the Hanlin Academy, had risen rapidly thanks to his outstanding performance as an advisor in the Eastern Palace. The imperial edict for the enthronement ceremony was being drafted by none other than the Hanlin Academy, and naturally, Xie Yunchuan was among the contributors.

Today, he was on his way to present the draft to Yin Chengyu for review.

The two met face-to-face. Ever polite, Xie Yunchuan greeted him first. “Overseer Xue, are you also heading to the Ciqing Palace? What a coincidence.”

Xue Shu narrowed his eyes, gave him a fleeting glance, and offered the barest nod.

This life was different. For some inexplicable reason, Xie Yunchuan treated Xue Shu with unwavering kindness. Maybe it was the debt of being saved, maybe something else.

At first, Xue Shu played along, feigning warmth to keep him close—a contingency plan for future use. But when he realized that Xie Yunchuan’s cordiality persisted regardless of his attitude, he stopped pretending altogether.

It reminded him of their last life. Back then, when Yin Chengyu was alive, Xie Yunchuan was relentless. The man rallied court officials to hound him, slamming memorials on his faults three times a day, determined to destroy him.

Yet after Yin Chengyu’s death, when the two became regents, their relationship strangely softened. He even overheard Xie Yunchuan reprimanding officials who criticized him once.

Scholars like Xie Yunchuan were amusing in their contradictions: love passionately, hate viciously.

Xue Shu had figured that out long ago. That’s why he played the game so effortlessly, guiding Xie Yunchuan step by step toward the direction he wanted.

“So, Xie Daren, delivering the edict?” Xue Shu’s voice was light, almost offhand.

“Indeed,” Xie Yunchuan nodded.

“Someone of your caliber, wasting away in the Hanlin Academy—it’s a pity,” Xue Shu remarked, his tone as sharp as his gaze. “Ever consider a future in the cabinet?”

Xie Yunchuan smiled faintly. “Who in the Hanlin Academy doesn’t dream of rising to the cabinet? But my time hasn’t come yet. I’ve got more to learn, more to prove.”

When Xie Yunchuan spoke of his ambitions, there was no greed for power in his eyes, only an earnest hunger to realize his ideals. Xue Shu had seen that same light in Yin Chengyu before. It was a stark contrast to his own cynicism, shaped by years of clawing through filth and betrayal.

Yin Chengyu was the moon in the heavens, cold and distant. Xue Shu, the mud beneath it, gritty and unyielding. But even mud could dream of staying close to the moon’s glow, as its ever-faithful shadow.

“When His Highness ascends the throne, the court will see a cleansing. He’s a wise ruler; talents won’t go unnoticed,” Xue Shu said meaningfully. “If you have ambitions, Xie Daren, prepare yourself. Opportunities don’t wait for the unready.”

Xie Yunchuan hesitated briefly, then bowed in gratitude. “Thank you for the advice, Overseer Xue.”

A small favor cost nothing, but earned a debt. Perfect. Xue Shu said no more, excusing himself to enter the Hongren Hall.

Yin Chengyu, seated inside, glanced up as Xue Shu walked in. He opened his mouth to speak, then noticed Xie Yunchuan waiting outside. His brows lifted ever so slightly. “You two came together?”

“Just happened to meet,” Xue Shu answered, unconcerned.

Yin Chengyu’s tone cooled. “I didn’t realize you and Xie Yunchuan were so close.”

Xue Shu looked up, startled. His first instinct was that His Highness disapproved of him associating with courtiers. But then he reminded himself—this life was different. Yin Chengyu wouldn’t mind such alliances.

Maybe he was just surprised. After all, in their past life, he and Xie Yunchuan had been sworn enemies.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Xue simply said, “Better to have a friend than an enemy.”

Given his disposition, the idea of Xue Shu making friends was absurd. Yin Chengyu studied him carefully but found nothing amiss. Letting it slide, he waved Xie Yunchuan in for the audience.

Xue Shu, standing to the side, watched it all with quiet amusement.

*

Two days later, the coronation ceremony arrived.

On that day, the palace was in a frenzy long before dawn. Eunuchs and maids scurried around, and Zheng Duobao was at the center, commanding everything with sharp efficiency. It was a scene of utter joy and excitement.

Inside the sleeping chambers, Yin Chengyu emerged after his bath and dressing, and Xue Shu led a group of young eunuchs, each holding the emperor’s crown and ceremonial robe, ready to assist him.

The eunuchs lined up, holding trays, while Xue Shu moved with practiced ease, laying out the clothes and carefully helping Yin Chengyu into his royal attire.

The dragon robe was elaborate and heavy, and just getting it on perfectly took a solid fifteen minutes.

Yin Chengyu wore the Yu crown, its twelve hangings covering most of his face. His sleeves were so wide they swept the floor, and across his chest and shoulders were golden dragons soaring. The rest of the garment was adorned with intricate patterns, symbols of the sun, moon, stars, mountains, and dragons. He looked like nothing less than royalty—every inch of him screamed emperor. No words were needed; his presence alone radiated the authority of a ruler.

In that moment, Xue Shu felt an odd sense of déjà vu, as if the scene were a perfect replay of a life long past.

With a wave of his hand, the eunuchs holding the trays smoothly withdrew. The inner hall was now empty, and Xue Shu couldn’t help but stare at the young emperor standing before him, his obsession and feelings no longer hidden behind his cold exterior.

He called out softly, “Your Majesty,” then dropped to one knee, bending down to smooth out the wrinkles in the dragon robe with slow, deliberate movements. His fingers traced the fabric with an almost reverent tenderness, as though he was pouring every ounce of his unspeakable emotions into the act.

Yin Chengyu looked down at him, and suddenly, he was struck by the memory of his own coronation in the previous life. He remembered Xue Shu kneeling before him, leading the court in their cries of “Long live the emperor.”

After two lifetimes, Xue Shu remained unchanged, unwavering.

A surge of unspoken emotion swelled in Yin Chengyu’s chest, and he bent down, lifting Xue Shu’s chin with a single hand, his voice low and commanding, “Do you still have unfulfilled desires, Overseer Xue?”

———TN: This isn't some steamy romance novel dripping with explicit details. The author keeps the smut scenes intentionally vague, dancing around the edges just enough to slip past China's censorship radar.

Get it? Good.