Chapter 143: Extra Story 1 - What Happened Later

In the three years since Yin Chengyu ascended to the throne, he reigned with an iron will and sharp foresight, blazing a trail of reform and renewal. He rooted out corruption, lightened the burden of taxes, and revitalized trade, ensuring the empire's coffers overflowed with wealth.

By the autumn of the third year of Yongguang, while natural disasters still struck parts of Great Yan with relentless fury, proactive local preparations and swift imperial support ensured these crises never spiraled into catastrophic chaos.

The people, once battered by the relentless suffering of natural and man-made disasters during the dark years of the Longfeng era, found themselves rescued, relocated, and restored under his rule. Their gratitude toward the court deepened with every act of care.

Yin Chengyu had already earned a reputation for wisdom and virtue among the common folk while he was still a crown prince. Now, as emperor, the generous measures he enacted only further cemented their loyalty. Across the empire, citizens spontaneously built shrines to honor him, their devotion as fierce as it was sincere.

After enduring the dark storms of Emperor Xiaozong's and Longfeng's reigns, Great Yan had finally embraced an emperor of brilliance and compassion-a ruler who brought light where shadows once lingered.

The empire thrived under his steady hand; the nation flourished, and the people prospered. Yet amidst this golden age, one thorn pricked the hearts of the court.

The emperor, though seated on the throne for over three years, remained childless. The absence of an heir loomed like a silent storm on the horizon-a vulnerability the empire could not afford.

When the emperor first ascended the throne, many who dared to offer advice found themselves silenced. Even the most unyielding voices in the Hanlin Academy and the Censorate, after some resistance, eventually fell into line. From then on, no one dared to stick their neck out again.

Yet, as the days passed, one thing became glaringly clear: the Duke of Zhenguo remained steadfastly favored, spending night after night in the emperor's private chambers.

Meanwhile, the emperor showed no signs of taking a wife or consorts, leaving the court officials-both out of public duty and private ambitions-longing for the day the emperor's infatuation with the Duke would wane, allowing the imperial harem to grow and the royal bloodline to flourish.

But day after day, month after month, this wishful thinking stretched into years. Three full years slipped by like water through their fingers. At first, the officials secretly placed bets on how long the Duke's favor would last. Now, they've grown weary of the game. While their interest faded, the emperor's passion for the Duke burned just as fiercely as ever-a maddening reality that left them with nothing to hope for.

One day, after the morning court session concluded, a small group of like-minded officials gathered at a teahouse for a casual drink. They had barely settled into their seats when the Deputy Minister of Rites appeared at the door, eyes darting about suspiciously. Only after carefully bolting the door behind him did he approach, rubbing his hands together and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Gentlemen, you won't believe what I've just learned," he began, his tone dripping with intrigue.

"Out with it already-don't keep us in suspense," one of his companions quipped with a laugh.

Seeing all eyes on him, the Deputy Minister's smirk widened. "You all know my brother-in-law works for the Northern Surveillance Bureau. Well, over drinks last night, he let something slip. The Duke of Zhenguo has been punished by His Majesty! Supposedly, the Duke's entry token has been confiscated, and he hasn't been allowed into the palace for days. Word is, he's been raising hell at the bureau instead."

"Is this true?" The Baron of Cheng'en leaned forward eagerly, his excitement barely contained.

The Baron's reaction was hardly surprising. Four generations ago, his family had produced an empress, elevating their title from baron to earl. But with no heirs from that empress and the family's subsequent decline, their rank had been reduced back to a mere baron.

Now, with the family's legacy hanging by a thread, the Baron had one last card to play-a daughter, newly of age and a stunning beauty. This news might just be the opening he needed.

The Vice Minister of Rites clasped his hands, his sharp eyes darting slyly, a smirk curling his lips as he mused, "Weren't we just speculating about when the Duke of Zhenguo might fall out of favor? Looks to me like it's about to happen soon."

Another voice, cautious yet probing, chimed in, "But what if His Majesty's just momentarily upset and clinging to old affections?"

The Vice Minister let out a dry chuckle, his tone dripping with implication. "Well, then it's all about who seizes the moment, isn't it?"

A third man, more prudent yet no less cunning, interjected, "Better tread carefully. If the secret officer show up at your door, there won't be anyone to hear your sob story."

Glances flickered between them, knowing and charged, before they raised their cups in muted agreement. Whatever schemes simmered in their hearts, they remained locked away from prying eyes.

*

The fall from grace of the Duke of Zhenguo had become an open secret, whispered discreetly until it reached every corner. Yet, after watching him cozy up to the Emperor for years, no one dared act rashly upon hearing the sudden news. Doubt lingered in their minds, but curiosity got the better of them. Quietly, agents were dispatched to investigate both openly and covertly.

The findings were more shocking than anyone anticipated. It turned out the Duke had not entered the palace for three or four days. Every morning, he would appear near the palace gates, only to turn away without stepping inside. Rumor had it the Emperor himself had barred his entry, leaving him to retreat home humiliated. Such a spectacle was unprecedented and set tongues wagging among the court officials.

After two days of cautious observation, bolder officials began submitting memorials to the Emperor, subtly revisiting old grievances.

Yin Chengyu, reviewing the growing pile of memorials on his desk, skimmed through them with a sharp eye. Selecting a few, he shook his head with a cold smile. "These officials... Every single one has a daughter of marriageable age. Their intent couldn't be more obvious."

Zheng Duobao, standing nearby, chuckled. "Royal favor and connections are coveted, but not everyone has the credentials to claim them."

After a brief pause, Yin Chengyu gave his orders. "Send these to Xue Shu."

Zheng Duobao acknowledged with a nod, took the memorials, and left the palace to carry out the task.

When Zheng Duobao arrived at Xue Shu's residence, the man's stormy expression lightened slightly-only to darken again when he saw Zheng Duobao had brought nothing but a stack of memorials.

Fingering the documents, Xue Shu's eyes bore into Zheng Duobao. "Did His Majesty say anything else?"

Uncertain of what had provoked the Emperor's displeasure, Zheng Duobao could only shake his head and offer cautious advice. "His Majesty has always responded better to gentleness than defiance. If you've angered him, it's best to humble yourself and smooth things over. Don't be stubborn."

Whether Xue Shu took the advice to heart was unclear. He gave a perfunctory nod, saw Zheng Duobao out, and finally sat down to read the memorials.

The contents ignited a fresh wave of fury he could no longer suppress. The opportunistic officials thought they could exploit his current predicament?

Their audacity was astounding.

After committing their names to memory, Xue Shu let out a cold laugh, changed into his court uniform, and headed straight for the Northern Surveillance Bureau.

He might be barred from the palace, but there were other ways to deal with these scheming vultures.

*

The imperial court had once again borne witness to the ruthlessness of the Duke of Zhenguo. No one dared to challenge Xue Shu head-on, so they turned to the emperor, begging for justice. By the end of the day, four or five officials had sought an audience, weeping pitifully before Yin Chengyu, lamenting the Duke's tyrannical behavior.

Among them, Baron Cheng'en put on the most dramatic performance: "Your Majesty, my daughter only recently came of age, a delicate flower of peerless beauty-some even say she's the reincarnation of Xi Shi herself! Out of love for her youth, we intended to wait a couple more years before arranging a marriage. But who could have foreseen that Zhao Qin, a commander in the Jinyiwei, would set his sights on her? Now he's enlisted the Duke of Zhenguo as a matchmaker, delivering betrothal gifts to my doorstep and refusing to leave. He claims there's mutual affection, but this brazen act has tarnished my daughter's reputation! How can we ever find a suitable match for her now? Please, Your Majesty, deliver justice!"

His tearful appeal was so convincing that, had Yin Chengyu not already been privy to the truth, he might have believed it himself.

Zhao Qin had indeed proposed to the Baron's daughter, and the feelings between them were genuine. Before this drama unfolded, the Zhao family had already sent a formal proposal, to which the Baron's household had responded favorably. The two families had even exchanged betrothal tokens in private. However, when Zhao Qin came to formalize the engagement, Baron Cheng'en suddenly had second thoughts.

Harboring ambitions of sending his daughter to the imperial palace, the Baron didn't dare outright reject the match, fearing it would tarnish his reputation. Instead, he imposed unreasonable demands to stall Zhao Qin and even locked his defiant daughter in the ancestral hall.

Zhao Qin, a rising star under Xue Shu's patronage, had inevitably drawn the Duke's ire with this fiasco. That the Duke decided to intervene came as no surprise.

Yin Chengyu, unimpressed by this petty squabble, regarded the Baron with a faint smirk and said evenly, "Commander Zhao is a young man of talent and promise. Since he and your daughter share mutual affection, this is a fine match. Since you've come to me, allow me to grant this marriage on your behalf."

Without further ado, he penned an imperial decree formalizing the union and handed it to Zheng Duobao. "Baron Cheng'en, take this decree."

The Baron, trembling, looked up to meet the emperor's piercing gaze. He dared not utter another word, bowing low to accept the decree before scurrying away in humiliation.

The two officials waiting to petition after him suddenly lost their nerve, already concocting excuses to withdraw. Unfortunately for them, Yin Chengyu wasn't in the mood for leniency.

Setting down his brush, he asked with deliberate slowness, "So, are you here to accuse the Duke of Zhenguo as well? Let's hear it-what grievance brings you?"

The pair hesitated, but under the emperor's sharp gaze, they had no choice but to stammer out their complaint.

"Your Majesty... we accuse the Duke of Zhenguo of abusing his power."

After witnessing the Baron's fate, they tread carefully, their words laced with apprehension.

Yin Chengyu tapped his fingers on the table, his expression unreadable. Including these two, five officials had come forward today. Their complaints amounted to trifles-petty grievances unworthy of imperial attention. Some were fools like the Baron; others merely wanted to test the emperor's stance toward the Duke.

Such was the burden of emperorship-every minor spat became a stage for speculation. It was exhausting. His tone sharpened with impatience. "Tell me, whose power does the Duke of Zhenguo wield?"

The two men faltered, unable to answer, nor did they dare.

Yin Chengyu let out a derisive chuckle. "If you already know the answer, why provoke him?"

Both officials dropped to their knees, hastily begging for forgiveness.

The emperor didn't bother punishing them-his words alone were enough to keep them on edge for days. After they left, he turned to Zheng Duobao. "Lift the restriction at the palace gates."

It wasn't as though he'd confiscated Xue Shu's token of entry. He had merely instructed the guards not to admit him.

*

Xue Shu was deep in thought, strategizing his way into the palace. Times had changed, and the imperial guards stationed within the palace walls were, after all, trained under his direct command. Even for him, sneaking in undetected now posed a significant challenge. Besides, a clandestine approach would likely infuriate the Emperor further-something he could hardly afford.

After mulling it over for a long while, he finally settled on a plan. First, he retrieved a custom-made item he had ordered earlier, then made his way to the Xie residence.

Visits from Xue Shu were a rare occurrence, so Xie Yunchuan was visibly startled to see him. He quickly ushered the man inside, instructing the servants to prepare tea without delay.

Rumors swirling outside had not escaped Xie Yunchuan's ears, but he wasn't one to dwell on idle gossip. If anything, he suspected the bond between the Emperor and Xue Shu ran far deeper than outsiders dared to imagine. Thus, he refrained from prying and left the rumors unaddressed, merely observing decorum.

As he poured tea, Xie Yunchuan finally broke the silence with a casual inquiry. "What brings the Duke Zhenguo to my humble residence today?"

Xue Shu lazily twirled the teacup in his hand, his gaze sharp. "If I recall correctly, Minister Xie is scheduled to enter the palace in the next day or two to report on the capital inspection matters, isn't he?"

Xie Yunchuan nodded, unguarded. "That's correct. I'm due to report tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, tomorrow. Always tomorrow." Xue Shu's eyes pinned him in place, his tone biting. "Why not bring your report forward to today? Save His Majesty the trouble of thinking you're dragging your feet."

Xie Yunchuan blinked, caught off guard. "Pardon?"

Before he could offer any defense, realization struck as their eyes met. "Ah, so the Duke intends to use my visit as an excuse to gain entry to the palace, doesn't he?"

Curiosity got the better of him, and he ventured, "Tell me, is it true? Did His Majesty really refuse your token of service?"

Xue Shu's face darkened, his expression an impenetrable storm.

"No."

Xie Yunchuan wisely bit back further questions, sensing the undercurrent of danger. The Duke's stormy demeanor warned against pushing his luck. Instead, he quickly ordered his attendants to prepare his formal court attire. "Please wait a moment, Duke. I'll change into my court robes right away."

As he turned to leave, a stray thought struck him, prompting him to add cautiously, "Of course, I can escort you into the palace, but if His Majesty refuses to see you..."

The unspoken implication hung heavily in the air.

Before the words could fully leave his mouth, he caught sight of Xue Shu's eyes-sharp as blades-and wisely chose to snap his lips shut. Without another word, he retreated indoors to change his clothes.

Xue Shu, ever composed and unreadable, strode towards the palace alongside Xie Yunchuan. This time, the imperial guards stationed at the gates didn't so much as glance at him, much less block his way. A faint trace of relief flitted across his features as he navigated the winding palace paths with practiced ease, his destination unmistakably clear-the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Xie Yunchuan, however, couldn't match his pace and fell half a step behind. Watching Xue Shu's brisk, almost frantic gait, he felt an odd sense of familiarity. Something about Xue Shu's urgency reminded him of his colleagues-those unlucky fools who'd crossed their wives, then scrambled home after their shifts, desperately trying to smooth things over. Yet, recognizing the blasphemy of likening Xue Shu to such hapless men, Xie Yunchuan quickly banished the thought.

The pair soon arrived at their destination. Though he had entered the palace on Xue Shu's account, Xie Yunchuan dutifully completed his report on the capital's affairs without a hint of perfunctory haste. Only when his duty was fulfilled did he bow out, but not before casting a sly glance at Xue Shu, who was waiting silently nearby.

His eyes gleamed with a faint, mocking glimmer-Good luck, you'll need it-before he turned on his heel and left with long, confident strides.

With no one else to interrupt, Xue Shu approached the dragon desk, picking up the inkstick to grind fresh ink for Yin Chengyu. But Yin Chengyu didn't seem inclined to start writing. Instead, he set down his brush and waved away the attending servants with a lazy flick of his hand.

His gaze, sharp yet teasing, slid over to the man standing so obediently at his side. With a soft snort of derision, he remarked, "You're being unusually well-behaved today. If you'd been this obedient earlier, would you have angered me so?"

"I was wrong," Xue Shu admitted, his voice calm but his eyes glinting with a trace of something deeper. A faint lick of his teeth betrayed his tension before he added, "I should not have... acted that way towards Your Majesty."

But Yin Chengyu was unmoved. His thoughts flicked back to that day-Xue Shu pinning him against the screen, utterly unrepentant as Yin Chengyue's footsteps sounded mere paces away. Even now, the memory made his teeth ache with suppressed rage.

Narrowing his eyes, Yin Chengyu said nothing, choosing instead to let Xue Shu squirm under his silent scrutiny. He wanted to see how far the man would go to placate him this time.

Sensing the shift in mood, Xue Shu reached into his sleeve and produced a small embroidered pouch, offering it with both hands. "For the next time Your Majesty... this might be useful. The chains are forged from tempered iron. I wouldn't be able to break free."

The pouch was weighty, its contents intriguing enough to make Yin Chengyu raise an eyebrow as he untied it. Inside lay four dark iron chains, each just as thick as a pinky finger and over three feet long. Both ends featured carved rings-one slightly larger than the other. The smaller rings, Xue Shu had ensured, were perfectly sized to lock snugly around a wrist bone.

Yin Chengyu tested one against his own wrist first, finding the fit loose but secure enough to restrain movement. Then, with deliberate malice, he reached for Xue Shu's wrist. The ring slid on with unnerving precision, clicking into place just a fraction too tightly.

A slow, wicked smile curled at the emperor's lips as he gave the chain a sharp tug, the jarring force pulling Xue Shu closer. "You've certainly put some thought into this," he murmured, each syllable laden with implications that left no room for innocence.

Xue Shu, unflinching despite the predatory glint in the emperor's eyes, simply replied, "As long as Your Majesty is pleased."

He spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice laced with quiet authority. "I must admit, this iron chain is far sturdier than mere cloth strips." With a sharp tug on the chain's end, he pulled the man toward the bedchamber beyond.

Xue Shu followed without resistance, his compliance as seamless as ever.

Once inside, Yin Chengyu pushed him onto the bed. His movements were precise, deliberate, as he secured the remaining three chains to Xue Shu's wrists and ankles. Each end was fastened tightly to the bedposts. Satisfied with his work, Yin Chengyu gave the restraints a firm pull, ensuring they wouldn't yield.

Only then did he nod with approval. "Sturdy indeed."

Xue Shu reclined against the bed, his gaze unwavering as he watched the other man. He reached out, chains clinking sharply against one another with a metallic clatter. But Yin Chengyu pressed his hand down, smothering the gesture with practiced ease. Without hesitation, he straddled Xue Shu and bent forward, their lips colliding in a heated exchange.

Xue Shu responded with fervor, licking the taste of the kiss from his lips and gripping Yin Chengyu's waist possessively, seeking more. But Yin Chengyu stilled his roaming hand with a light but deliberate press, his voice hoarse and low. "Loosen your grip, first."

Reluctantly, Xue Shu let go, his hands dropping as his gaze burned with unrestrained longing. He watched as Yin Chengyu withdrew, the heat between them lingering, refusing to dissipate. Xue Shu's eyes followed his every move, smoldering with unmet desire.

Yin Chengyu, however, seemed unbothered by the intensity of that gaze. He stepped off the bed, smoothing his rumpled garments with meticulous care. Then, leaning down, he patted Xue Shu's cheek with an almost patronizing finality. "Stay here and reflect on your actions. I'll be resting in the side chamber tonight."

His voice was cool, indifferent, as if their earlier exchange meant little. He took two measured steps back, just out of Xue Shu's reach, before the other man could make another attempt to grab him.

The custom-made iron chains were as reliable as they were unyielding. Without the key, even someone as strong as Xue Shu would find them impossible to break. Yin Chengyu's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he cast one last glance at the restrained figure on the bed. Then, with hands clasped behind his back, he strolled out, leaving only the soft echo of his footsteps behind.

*

In the autumn of the third year of Yongguang, a dramatic farce was hastily wrapped up just days after the Duke of Zhenguo rushed back to the palace. The court officials who had harbored schemes finally understood the reality: no matter how fierce the quarrels might seem at the head of their bed, they reconciled just as fiercely at its foot.

Any fool who tried to meddle in their private affairs only made a laughingstock of themselves. As long as the Duke of Zhenguo remained a presence, no one else would ever step foot into the imperial harem.

By the winter of the seventh year of Yongguang, the court was blindsided when the Emperor unexpectedly raised the matter of establishing a crown prince.

"I am nearing thirty," he declared, his voice cutting through the silence of the hall, "yet the harem remains barren and without an heir. Fortunately, my younger brother Chengyue has shown remarkable promise in his youth. He is intelligent, capable, and worthy of great responsibility. I intend to name him heir apparent. What do you all think?"

Though framed as a question to the court, any perceptive minister could already see the writing on the wall.

The Emperor's lack of an heir had been a deliberate move for years. Instead of fretting over offspring, he had enlisted the empire's finest scholars-men of the caliber of the former Grand Chancellor, Yu Huai'an-to personally oversee Prince Chengyue's education.

It was clear that the Emperor had been grooming him for this role from the start.

Rumors circulated among those who taught the young prince: Chengyue, sharp-witted and eager to learn, had already begun debating with his tutors, a prodigy who bore a striking resemblance to the Emperor in his youth.

So, when the announcement finally came, this decision-logical and years in the making-was met with resigned acceptance. After all, the ministers had spent the better part of a decade coming to terms with the inevitable.

The imperial edict naming Yin Chengyue as Crown Prince was issued without delay, and the young prince moved from Renshou Palace to the more prestigious Ciqing Palace, once home to Yin Chengyu.

By this time, the eight-year-old Chengyue was no longer the plump and cherubic child he once was. His figure had stretched and refined itself thanks to the rigorous riding and archery lessons under Xue Shu. Dressed in a light yellow robe embroidered with four clawed dragons, his stern little face carried an authority far beyond his years.

The Emperor personally accompanied him through the halls of Ciqing Palace, a subtle smile gracing his lips as he said, "I once lived here too."

The Ciqing Palace, newly restored and gleaming with refinement, bustled with palace attendants meticulously relocating and arranging every personal belonging of Yin Chengyue.

He stood there, his gaze flickering with a restrained curiosity about his elder brother's former residence. Despite his interest, he held his composure in check, refusing to let wandering eyes betray a lack of steadiness.

Instead, he turned his head deliberately, his tone solemn and firm as he declared, "I will not disappoint Imperial Brother."

From the age of three, Yin Chengyue had been steeped in the rigorous teachings of Yu Huai'an and other esteemed scholars, ingraining in him an acute understanding of the crown prince's heavy responsibilities.

Yin Chengyu, his elder brother, smiled faintly and tousled his hair. "Go take a look at your bedchamber. From now on, this will be your domain. I've instructed Zheng Duobao to stay here and take care of you. Once Zhang Shun matures and proves himself capable, he'll take over the management of Ciqing Palace."

The two entered the bedchamber as they spoke, where Zheng Duobao was busily orchestrating the placement of furnishings with precise orders to the palace staff. Noticing their arrival, Zheng Duobao swiftly dismissed the attendants and arranged for tea and refreshments to be served.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness," he said with a slight bow, "the bedchamber has been fully prepared."

Yin Chengyue accepted the tea with his small, tightly drawn face showing a flicker of hesitation. He sipped carefully before finally asking, "Has General Tiger been settled in properly?"

The tiger, having grown up alongside him since childhood, had been a resident of the gardens in the Renshou Palace. Known for its gentle nature and intelligence, the creature roamed the palace freely under the watchful eye of assigned caretakers. Now that Yin Chengyue was moving to Ciqing Palace, the tiger was naturally expected to follow.

Zheng Duobao allowed a small smile, amused by the glimpse of boyish concern beneath the young prince's formal demeanor. "Your Highness, rest assured, General Tiger has already been settled. He's lived in Ciqing Palace before and is quite familiar with it."

Only then did Yin Chengyue's furrowed brow ease, his tension dissipating slightly.

To help him adjust to his new residence, Yin Chengyu made a point of spending the better part of the day at Ciqing Palace. Summoning Xue Shu, he had the yet-unreviewed memorials brought over and shared a desk with Yin Chengyue-one immersed in reading and calligraphy, the other deliberating over state affairs.

When evening descended, Yin Chengyu joined his younger brother for dinner.

Their meal was briefly interrupted by the arrival of General Tiger, whose majestic presence lit up the boy's face. Yin Chengyu stayed a while longer, indulging in a rare moment of lightheartedness as he watched the child and his tiger companion engage in their spirited play.

The tiger had come to the palace as a mere cub, no larger than a tufted ball of fur. Over the years, it had grown into a magnificent and imposing beast-a sight that could easily startle any unsuspecting outsider. But within the palace walls, it was Yin Chengyue's lifelong companion, embodying the unyielding bond of their shared upbringing.

Only those truly familiar with it knew that this tiger had remained the same over the years-clumsy, goofy, utterly lacking the majestic ferocity expected of the king of beasts.

Now, as it entered the hall and saw the two brothers, Yin Chengyu and Yin Chengyue, it wagged its tail with a lazy flick. A low, rumbling purr echoed from deep in its throat. It walked over and, with practiced ease, laid its head on Yin Chengyu's knee, its face angled toward Yin Chengyue. With a slow flick of its tongue, it licked Yin Chengyue's hand.

Yin Chengyue didn't immediately reach out to pet it.

Lately, he had come to understand the stories of those who became consumed by their indulgences. He had heard the tales of the emperor of the previous dynasty who was criticized for building a leopard house to house wild beasts, seeing it as a sign of a lack of self-control.

While Yin Chengyue was smart, he was still young. Aware that expectations were high for him, he often tried to act more composed, to emulate his older brother. This included distancing himself from the tiger, once his closest companion.

However, Yin Chengyu, ever perceptive, noticed the hesitation. He reached out, ruffling Yin Chengyue's hair gently, his voice soft yet commanding, "If you want to play, then play. Your lessons are done for the day."

With permission granted, Yin Chengyue's eyes lit up. He immediately wrapped his arms around the tiger's neck, rubbing his face against its fur. The tiger let out a low growl, rubbing its head back against him. They'd been inseparable since he was just two or three years old, riding around the garden together-one boy, one tiger-so naturally close.

After a while of playing, the hour grew late, and it was time for bed.

Reluctantly, he saw his brother to the door. After a moment of contemplation, he tugged at Yin Chengyu's sleeve, his tone soft but insistent, "I'm a little scared tonight... Can you stay with me, Your Majesty?"

Earlier, in the Renshou Palace, he had lived in a side hall not far from his mother, but now, the request felt different. For such a rare request from his younger brother, Yin Chengyu was never one to refuse. He agreed without hesitation, and as Yin Chengyue happily scurried off to order the servants to prepare his bedding, Yin Chengyu turned to Xue Shu, offering a comforting squeeze of his hand. "I'll stay at Ciqing Palace tonight. You may go back to your chambers."

Xue Shu glanced around at the familiar surroundings, then at the man before him-someone who had been softened by the years. He gripped Yin Chengyu's hand in return, his voice low, with a hint of nostalgia. "When His Majesty stayed in Ciqing Palace, I often stayed to keep watch. Tonight, we can relive those old memories."

Yin Chengyu gave his hand a firm squeeze, a sharp look flashing in his eyes. "Keep watch, and keep to it. Chengyue is getting older now."

With that, he released his hand, just before Yin Chengyue could return, a subtle warning lingering in the air.

That night, Xue Shu kept watch on the low couch in the outer room, while Yin Chengyu and Yin Chengyue slept in the inner chamber.

The tiger general, seeing that both of them were present, stubbornly refused to return to his own quarters and curled up beside the bed. His thick coat of fur quickly grew unbearably hot in the heated floor of the inner room, and, irritated, he slithered over to the window, seeking respite from the heat.

Nestled in his brother's arms, Yin Chengyue shed the guise of calm maturity he wore during the day, revealing a more childlike innocence. With a furrowed brow, he anxiously muttered his worries to Yin Chengyu.

"What if I fail as the imperial heir?"

His grandfather often used his elder brother as a model in his lessons. Yin Chengyue admired his brother's excellence, but the pressure was suffocating. The fear of not measuring up, of failing to live up to everyone's expectations, was overwhelming.

Yin Chengyu, however, hadn't expected his brother to be so troubled.

In this lifetime, Yin Chengyue had shed the bitterness that life's hardships had once left on him. He was sharp, kind-hearted, and, most notably, patient. Having experienced kindness from those around him, he was determined to return that kindness tenfold. Yet, he was still too young and, as sharp as he was, remained only half-understanding about many things.

After a moment's reflection, Yin Chengyu softly stroked his brother's back. "You're already doing wonderfully. No one is born knowing how to do everything. And even if you fail, it's fine. I'll always stand by you. If you make a mistake, I'll be here to help you set it right."

Those words would echo in Yin Chengyue's mind for many years to come. Whenever he faced obstacles, hesitant to move forward, he would recall that promise. He knew his brother would always be behind him, supporting him, pushing him forward, unyielding.

It wasn't until his eighteenth birthday, just before his wedding, that Yin Chengyue truly believed those words with unwavering faith.

On the fifth day after his wedding, the royal eunuch Zhang Shun brought him a decree and a letter. The decree was one of abdication, and the letter was from his elder brother.

In it, his brother wrote: "Though the empire seems peaceful, beneath the surface, there are still many issues that need to be addressed. I've decided to take a secret journey with Duke Zhenguo to personally inspect the situation. Should I encounter injustice along the way, I'll deal with it directly. As for the throne, you have the ability to stand alone now. I am abdicating to you and entrusting you with the responsibility. Do not fail me."

Yin Chengyue crumpled the letter in his hand, his eyes dark as he glared at the now-empty palace hall, muttering bitterly under his breath, "Liars."

---TN: Xiaoyue, let's not kid ourselves-your brother had this grand escape planned ages ago. He didn't just decide to up and leave; no, he's been scheming this getaway for quite some time.