Chapter 132.

After all this turmoil, it turns out that everything was done for such a trivial request.

Yin Chengyu couldn’t help but find it both amusing and exasperating.

However, seeing Xue Shu’s tightly furrowed brow, he instinctively reached out to smooth it, his tone softening as he offered reassurance: “If I leave no heirs, the throne will inevitably pass to Yue’er. He is clever and sharp, and this life’s lack of hardship has spared him from developing a warped disposition. With proper guidance, he will have no trouble becoming a steady ruler. I trust him.”

He paused here, observing Xue Shu’s piercing gaze locked onto him, waiting for more. Carefully choosing his next words, he continued, “But I'm worried about you. Once a teacher, always a father figure. If you've been his martial instructor since he was young, nurturing a bond with him. In the unlikely event of my demise, I won’t even need to instruct him—Yue’er will look after you.”

This was an issue Yin Chengyu had long contemplated.

In his previous life, his health deteriorated while guarding the imperial tombs, leading to an early death. Though he spared Xue Shu’s life and appointed him as a regent, Yin Chengyue, his successor, had always disliked Xue Shu. Given Xue Shu’s temperament, their relationship was anything but harmonious after his passing.

History has often proven that a young emperor and a powerful minister cannot coexist peacefully once the emperor comes of age.

Xue Shu never spoke of those years, and Yin Chengyu hadn’t pressed him. Still, certain truths were too apparent to ignore, even without words.

In this life, he had avoided the fate of the tombs and maintained his health. Yet the deaths of Consort Rong and Yin Ciguang haunted him, filling his heart with unease. The fear that fate might take a different path drove him to overprepare.

He thought he had accounted for everything, but he underestimated Xue Shu’s reaction.

The moment he mentioned the “unlikely event,” Xue Shu’s expression darkened. His jaw tightened, and his iron grip clamped down on Yin Chengyu’s wrist. His voice, low and venomous, demanded, “Is Your Highness planning to abandon me again?”

Each word was deliberate, his tone biting.

Yin Chengyu realized something was amiss and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, Xue Shu leaned in and viciously bit his lips. The lingering warmth and tenderness vanished in an instant, replaced by a storm of raw aggression. The restrained predator had broken free, its every movement brutal and domineering, radiating punitive intent.

The sharp tang of blood filled Yin Chengyu’s mouth, and his vulnerable throat was caught between Xue Shu’s teeth, leaving a trail of crimson marks in their wake.

He tried to rise, but his hands were pinned above his head, leaving him utterly immobilized.

Though proficient in archery and horsemanship, Yin Chengyu was no match for Xue Shu’s maddened strength. With a single hand, Xue Shu had him completely subdued.

The disparity in power was staggering.

“Xue Shu!” Yin Chengyu growled, biting down hard on Xue Shu’s lips. Taking advantage of the fleeting moment when Xue Shu recoiled in pain, he gasped, “Release… me!”

Xue Shu, his eyes bloodshot, pressed their noses together, his gaze boring into Yin Chengyu’s furious face. Yet his grip remained unyielding. “There will be no ‘unlikely event,’” he declared.

Yin Chengyu froze, his struggles gradually subsiding. He parted his lips to speak, but Xue Shu didn’t grant him the chance. “You promised to let me stay by your side,” Xue Shu said, his voice roughened by anger but now tinged with a chilling intimacy. He leaned down, licking away the blood at Yin Chengyu’s lip with deliberate slowness, his words soft but laden with steel: “If His Majesty lives, I live. If His Majesty…” His expression twisted as he refused to complete the thought. “Then I won’t survive alone.”

He leaned down, carefully and meticulously tracing the outline of his lips.

After the storm of fury, there came a tone almost akin to pleading.

The anger dissipated, leaving a bittersweet ache coiled in his chest. Yin Chengyu gazed at the person so close to him, thoughts swirling. He wanted to say that life was unpredictable, and the fact that they had been granted a second chance was already a blessing beyond comprehension.

How could they dare to dream of growing old together?

Better to prepare early than to be blindsided by the unexpected.

Yet, in the end, he said nothing. Instead, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the rough, unyielding kiss. Between fleeting breaths, a fractured promise slipped from his lips: “I will never… abandon you again.”

The violent tempest came and went, gradually softening under the weight of patient comfort, turning into a steady drizzle.

The rain nourishes all in silence.

Xue Shu’s movements grew gentler, but Yin Chengyu’s earlier words lingered, cutting deep. Determined, Xue Shu resolved to leave an indelible memory for him—one so vivid that the mere thought of ever being left alone again would summon the sting of this night’s retribution.

The rain drizzled incessantly through the night.

When Yin Chengyu awoke the next morning, he untied the cloth bindings from his wrists and ankles, glancing at the bruises blooming on his skin without a trace of pity.

Hurling the cloth at Xue Shu’s face, his fury erupted: “Get out of my sight! I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day!”

Xue Shu sat up, his expression one of unbridled satisfaction. Calmly retrieving the discarded cloth, he tucked it into his sleeve with practiced ease and replied with mock humility: “Allow me to assist Your Majesty in washing and dressing.”

“Summon Zheng Duobao,” Yin Chengyu snapped, his patience fraying further. Just looking at Xue Shu’s face fueled his irritation. He cursed himself for being far too lenient; the man didn’t even bother pretending anymore, his true nature laid bare.

Xue Shu dressed himself swiftly and left to call Zheng Duobao.

Yin Chengyu, unwilling to let anyone see the marks on his wrists, dressed himself before allowing Zheng Duobao to attend to his morning preparations.

Though there was no court assembly today, matters awaited at the Wuying Hall of Martial Excellence. After straightening his attire, Yin Chengyu headed out.

As he passed Xue Shu, who had resumed his submissive facade, Yin Chengyu caught the lack of remorse in the man’s expression. His temper flared anew.

“Go clean the tiger enclosure. I’ll inspect it tonight,” he ordered coldly.

Xue Shu bowed his head and murmured obediently, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The tension between them was palpable, almost suffocating. Even Zheng Duobao threw Xue Shu a glare of disapproval, silently questioning how he could still manage to provoke the emperor’s wrath after sharing the imperial dragon bed.

But Xue Shu ignored the judgment, his calm demeanor unwavering as he strode off toward the tiger enclosure.

*

Although attending court sessions was not necessary, there were still many ministers to meet.

The first summoned by Yin Chengyu was the Right Censor-in-Chief, Cao Hong.

Cao Hong, over sixty years old, was a former Hanlin Academy scholar known for his unyielding integrity and intolerance for corruption—traits that bordered on obstinacy. His candor in criticizing Emperor Longfeng had led him to voluntarily resign and retire.

However, after Yin Chengyu ascended the throne, he reinstated Cao Hong to oversee the retrial of the Xie Wendao corruption case.

The case, jointly reviewed by the Court of Judicial Review and the Ministry of Justice, was supervised by the Censorate. Cao Hong’s audience signaled that significant progress had been made.

As expected, Cao Hong began by reporting developments. New witnesses and evidence had emerged, all pointing to Shao Tian, the chief examiner of the capital's civil service examinations at the time. Contrary to earlier claims, the intermediary who sold the exam questions to a group of scholars was not Xie Wendao's attendant but someone else entirely.

When the scandal broke, Shao Tian conspired with the implicated examinees to fabricate evidence and coerce Xie Wendao's attendant into falsely incriminating his master, deflecting suspicion onto Xie Wendao. To make matters worse, this conspiracy had ties to the late Noble Consort Wen.

At that time, Shao Tian had not yet entered the Grand Secretariat and wielded limited power as Minister of Rites. Fearing prolonged scrutiny, he secretly aligned with Noble Consort Wen, who further stoked the flames of the emperor's anger. This expedited Xie Wendao's conviction.

Subsequently, the attendant died in prison, and Xie's family, along with the implicated scholars, were silenced. Without surviving evidence and descendants, the truth would have remained buried—if not for the preserved examination records and a surviving member of Xie's lineage.

Cao Hong, visibly outraged, declared, "The evidence is irrefutable. Yet Shao Tian dares defy the Court of Judicial Review’s summons, flouting the law! Worse, the Chief Justice colludes with him, obstructing the retrial with bribes and deceit in a desperate attempt to exonerate him!"

As a Hanlin alumnus and acquaintance of Xie Wendao, Cao Hong was especially indignant. Learning of the obstacles faced by the Deputy Chief Justice, he wasted no time petitioning the emperor to impeach both Shao Tian and the Chief Justice.

Shao Tian, now stripped of his former alliances, could only make a final, futile stand. Yin Chengyu had long wanted to eliminate him, but the lack of progress in the Xie Wendao case had delayed action. Now, the moment had come.

Yin Chengyu declared, "Shao Tian's crimes of conspiracy, false accusation, and disregard for human life are unforgivable. I had hoped to handle this discreetly out of respect for his past contributions. Since he refuses the Court's summons, the Eastern Bureau will intervene."

Cao Hong’s face lit up with approval. “Your Majesty is truly wise!”

The Eastern Bureau's intervention spelled doom. While a court prison might offer a sliver of hope, entry into the Bureau's prison was a death sentence.

The emperor’s orders were swift. Hundreds of Eastern Bureau's agents surrounded Shao Tian’s residence, sealing it off completely.

Shao Tian, elevated to Minister of Revenue and Grand Secretary, had cultivated vast networks of influence. Half of the scholars in the court owed their success to Prime Minister Yu Huai’an, while the other half were protégés of Shao Tian.

Over the years, leveraging Noble Consort Wen’s favor, he built a formidable faction. Even Yin Chengyu had to weigh the potential backlash before moving against him.

Shao Tian’s calculated “retirement” after the Xie Wendao case resurfaced was a ploy to buy time, but now, with mounting evidence, his regret must have been profound.

Yin Chengyu had long prepared to fell this towering obstacle. The Xie Wendao case was his weapon of choice, a precision strike aimed at severing Shao Tian’s ties with the intellectual elite.

Xie Wendao, once a revered Hanlin Academy Director, had enjoyed a sterling reputation among scholars. His execution provoked widespread condemnation; now, his exoneration promised an equally explosive backlash.

Among those who had endured the grueling imperial examinations, the hatred for corruption ran deep. This case was the emperor's blade, dividing Shao Tian from his supporters.

Though Yin Chengyu outwardly showed little interest in the case, he had secretly facilitated its progress. With critical evidence in hand, he unleashed the Eastern Bureau to arrest Shao Tian.

No matter how powerful Shao Tian had been, he was ultimately a mere civil servant. His arrest plunged his faction into chaos.

Since the new emperor's accession, the court had been relatively stable, lulling Shao Tian’s allies into complacency. Now, with Shao Tian in prison, the entire court was gripped by fear, unsure when the blade hanging over their heads would strike next.

*

Yin Chengyu scanned the secret report delivered by the Eastern Bureau with an air of absolute confidence, already plotting how to fill the vacant positions once the Shao faction was eradicated. His mind worked methodically, identifying exactly who would rise to power in the aftermath.

Zheng Duobao entered with a tray of tea, his cheerful demeanor betraying his contentment at Yin Chengyu’s seemingly good mood. Recalling Xue Shu’s persistent pleas, he decided to step into the role of mediator, albeit cautiously. "Overseer Xue has brought the Tiger General over again," he ventured with a carefully measured tone. "From what I’ve seen, the Tiger General has been treated rather indulgently these past few days—so much so that he’s grown noticeably rounder. Overseer Xue was just asking when Your Majesty might visit the tiger enclosure for an inspection."

It had been two days since Yin Chengyu had punished Xue Shu by assigning him the demeaning task of cleaning the tiger enclosure. In that time, Xue Shu had been barred from entering the Hall of Cultivated Tranquility entirely.

Perhaps Xue Shu had realized that this time, Yin Chengyu’s anger was no fleeting annoyance. He had obediently spent two full days cleaning the enclosure and even brought along the tiger cub in a bid to earn some semblance of forgiveness.

Yin Chengyu let out a sharp, mocking chuckle. "Bring in the Tiger General," he ordered, his tone cutting and cold. "As for Xue Shu? He is not to be seen."

Zheng Duobao’s round, good-natured face faltered momentarily before he heaved a resigned sigh. Shaking his head, he retreated to relay the message outside.

———TN: "My, my, it seems your wife is thoroughly displeased."

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