Chapter 141. Deep Love Only You Know.

The vermilion carved columns cast dark, brooding shadows, with two figures hidden behind them, their intertwined silhouettes merging seamlessly with the gloom.

Yan Chengyu was indeed quite drunk, his movements much more intense than usual. Xue Shu, unable to control his growing desire, finally let go, surrendering to the fervor and taking what he wanted.

Their bodies, locked in a fierce embrace, formed a single, heaving mass. The air crackled with the raw energy of their intertwined forms, the tension between them a tangible force. Each shallow, suppressed breath, each ragged exhalation, spoke of a struggle between surrender and dominance, a silent battle waged with lips and tongues in a relentless, almost violent, dance of possession.

The sounds of their intimacy – the wet smacks of lips, the soft slurps of tongues – echoed in the charged atmosphere, a testament to the raw power they exerted over one another. Even before one could fully witness the scene, the sheer intensity of their connection, the almost brutal honesty of their shared desire, the palpable sense of control and submission, hung heavy in the air.

A few Hanlin officials, who had sneaked out to avoid the alcohol, returned just in time to witness the scene. They froze in their tracks, faces flushed with a mix of awkwardness and discomfort.

This was the main path leading to the Imperial Palace’s Hall of Huangji Palace, only a few steps away from the main entrance. It was a place of high traffic, and yet someone had dared to act so recklessly...

They exchanged uneasy glances, silently urging one another to speak up.

The senior officials glanced at one another, reluctant to be the first to intervene. Eventually, their eyes fell on the youngest of the group, Xie Yunchuan.

Recently, Xie Yunchuan had been rewarded for his success in overseeing the river inspection and was gaining the Emperor's favor. Though his rewards were still undecided, his future seemed assured, especially with the upcoming promotions that were certain to come. Thus, during the imperial banquet, his old colleagues had insisted on drinking heavily with him. After sneaking away for a breath of fresh air, he had been caught by several of the elders who engaged him in conversation before heading back.

The elders of the Hanlin Academy were sticklers for propriety, their faces naturally thin-skinned, so when they witnessed such reckless behavior, they were too embarrassed to say anything outright. Instead, they all turned their gaze to Xie Yunchuan.

The silence was heavy, but Xie Yunchuan, still drunk and disoriented, didn’t sense anything amiss. He frowned in confusion, “Why aren’t you all moving?”

The moment he spoke, the officials visibly relaxed and laughed softly, “Let’s go, let’s go back and drink some more.” They quickened their pace, nudging Xie Yunchuan along towards the palace doors.

However, Xue Shu immediately noticed when someone approached. His hand gripped Yan Chengyu’s neck, pulling back slightly and whispering, “Someone’s coming.”

But Yan Chengyu, seemingly unfazed by the intrusion, tilted his head back, brushing his lips against Xue’s. His voice, low and sultry, lingered on the final word like a teasing hook, “Are you scared?”

Xue Shu wasn’t scared, but he didn’t want to upset Yan Chengyu when the alcohol wore off. He bit back his desire, muttering, “It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us.”

Yan Chengyu chuckled softly, his hand gently holding Xue Shu’s face, forcing him to stay close. He leaned in for another kiss, murmuring, “They’ll find out eventually.”

Drunk people didn’t follow logic, and their passion was fiercer than usual. The fragile thread of restraint snapped completely, and Xue Shu pressed him deeper into the shadows, kissing him with reckless abandon.

The senior officials, initially thinking a simple warning would end the matter, glanced back as they passed the column that hid the pair. They hoped to catch a glimpse of which colleague had dared to be so bold.

The thick, towering columns could easily hide one’s movements, but the figures behind them had no intention of hiding. The edges of their clothes slipped out from behind the pillar, and while the crimson fabric was hard to identify, there was no mistaking the brilliant yellow dragon robe.

It was the Emperor!

A few of the older officials gasped in surprise, and none of them dared to take another glance. They hurriedly made their way back to the palace hall, but in their haste, they forgot all about the drunken Xie Yunchuan.

Xie Yunchuan stood frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the pillar in front of him. His handsome face was contorted with furrowed brows, as though he were deep in thought, struggling to piece something together.

It was the slowest of the officials who happened to glance back and notice him still standing there. In a flurry of concern, he rushed back, grabbed Xie by the arm, and hissed, "Xie Yunchuan, what the hell are you staring at?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

The emperor's private matters were none of their business.

But of course, a drunken man couldn’t grasp the urgency of the situation. As he was dragged back to his seat, he suddenly slammed his hand onto the table, shouting, "That's the Duke of Zhenguo!"

He knew that crimson robe was familiar—just couldn't place it at first. But now it was all clear.

The older officials, still rattled by the news, nearly choked on their shock at his bombshell.

"Who?!" they gasped.

"The Duke of Zhenguo," Xie Yunchuan repeated, as if it was the simplest thing to understand.

The memory started to click in their minds. That red silk, those dragon-patterned robes—the imperial dragon robes, to be exact.

The Emperor and the Duke of Zhenguo…

The older officials' faces drained of color, mouths hanging open in disbelief.

While it was inappropriate to speak on the Emperor's private affairs, the revelation of his close relationship with the Duke of Zhen Guo was simply too scandalous to ignore. It quickly spread like wildfire among the officials.

Now everything made sense.

The Emperor’s sudden favoritism towards Xue Shu and his insistence on making the Duke of Zhenguo his ally—it all clicked.

Looking deeper, wasn’t the Emperor’s refusal to select court women also tied to the Duke of Zhenguo?

The officials were stunned, but soon, their anger took over. They began drafting furious memorials to the Emperor, demanding he stop associating with such a disgraceful figure.

How could the sovereign of the land be involved with a eunuch?

It was utterly undignified!

The older officials, already disdainful of the eunuchs, were particularly outraged. They feared the Emperor’s growing reliance on them would lead to disaster.

Now, with the truth laid bare, one of them composed a lengthy, impassioned memorial decrying the eunuchs’ interference in state affairs, accusing them of "manipulating the Emperor" and "destroying the kingdom."

But as they prepared to submit their petitions, hesitation crept in. They all recalled that firm statement from the Emperor on the day he named the Duke of Zhenguo: "My decision is final. No more discussion."

Though the Emperor was young, he was not easily swayed by the court. His open favoritism toward the Duke of Zhenguo made it clear—submitting such a petition now would be as foolish as poking a tiger’s behind.

After reconsidering, the officials began to revise their words, softening their harsh criticisms. What had been a fiery protest now turned into a much more polite, carefully worded plea.

*

The number of memorials coming from the Imperial Secretariat has sharply increased in the last two days.

Yin Chengyu glanced at the two piles of memorials Xue Shu had set aside and tapped his fingers lightly on each stack. His gaze shifted sharply to Xue Shu, his voice cutting through the air. "What do they say?"

Xue Shu lowered his eyes, clearly displeased, his voice tinged with a cold, ominous edge. "The stack on the left is full of accusations about officials currying favor with the emperor and misleading him. The one on the right? Requests for His Majesty to select new concubines and expand the harem."

Nothing unexpected, yet still quite irksome. Yin Chengyu chuckled, eyes narrowing as he looked at Xue Shu’s grim expression. With a raised eyebrow, he muttered, "Since it's your problem, you handle it."

Xue Shu's face relaxed just a fraction, his demeanor slightly less tense as he bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I will take care of it."

...

Xue Shu's "handling" meant putting every last agent of the Eastern and Western Bureaus to work, scouring the lives of every official who dared to submit a memorial.

Anyone with a voice in front of the emperor had a position of power. Be it colleagues, classmates, or family connections, the webs of personal debts and favors were endless. Even the most upright and clean-handed of scholars could be dragged down with enough digging.

He ordered the agents to compile everything they found into a book and, with hundreds of them in tow, went door-to-door for “visits.”

These weren't friendly calls—when the agents surrounded a house, holding up a ledger of "dates, places, and events," it was clear that their intentions were anything but benign. Even if he didn’t go too far with the intimidation—just sitting down with a fake smile while sipping tea—it was enough to rattle those on the receiving end.

Half a month later, after these "visits" were complete, most officials had learned to keep their heads down. No more memorials were being sent. Only a few of the stubborn old-timers in the Hanlin Academy and the Censorate remained undeterred, still sending in their charges.

But when their memorials, too, went unanswered—lost without a trace—they grew desperate.

They met to plot a course of action and soon made their way to the Empress Dowager’s palace.

With the emperor firmly in the pocket of the Duke of Zhenguo, their only option was to appeal to someone who could still sway him.

The Empress Dowager, who had never been one to meddle in politics, was embroidering a pouch in a warm room when she was informed that several old ministers had come to see her. She raised an eyebrow, recalling recent rumors from the court, and immediately understood their purpose.

Still, she had them admitted.

The ministers, eager and desperate, wasted no time. They kneeled before her, their voices shaking with urgency.

"Your Majesty, the emperor is being deceived by wicked men! We have tried to dissuade him, but to no avail. We beg you to intervene!"

"The emperor is a wise ruler, not to be sullied by the eunuchs! Please, Empress Dowager, persuade him to expand the harem and select new concubines, this is the righteous course!"

One after another, the old men spoke, detailing the Duke's many flaws with tears and righteous anger.

The Empress Dowager listened patiently, then replied, calm and unhurried, "I am aware of the Duke’s loyalty and his many contributions. He may not be as vile as you paint him."

...

The ministers were stunned for a moment, not expecting her to defend Xue Shu. They quickly recovered, pressing on. "But Your Majesty! The emperor is the ruler of this land—how can he lower himself to such a man? What will history say? How can he, today, refuse to select new concubines, and tomorrow, perhaps be led astray into worse deeds?"

"The small misdeeds will surely lead to larger ones. A small harm now will lead to great disaster later!"

The Empress Dowager sighed softly, rubbing her temple, irritated by the constant noise. She took the scissors from her maid and snipped the embroidery thread, staring at the two identical pouches, their only difference being the color.

She handed them to her maid with a soft instruction. "Take these to the emperor and the Duke."

Turning to the ministers, she spoke slowly, her tone firm. "It’s often said that a son’s decisions are beyond a mother’s control. I am old, and I can no longer oversee such matters. If the emperor wishes to favor whomever he chooses, that is his personal business. If it interferes with the state, we may discuss it. But for now, with peace at the borders and the people content, why quarrel over such trivial things?"

Seeing the ministers speechless, she shook her head. "This matter is beyond my concern, and I wish not to involve myself further. Please, return."

Defeated, the ministers left, their anger simmering beneath the surface. As they departed the palace, the oldest among them, Chen the Censor, muttered with frustration, "The Empress Dowager is a kind soul, but she doesn’t understand the danger here. We must seek the Prime Minister!"

The Prime Minister was the emperor's maternal grandfather—his mentor, his guide. The emperor would surely listen to him.