Chapter 20.

Yin Chengyu was deep in thought when a voice outside announced, “Xue Shu requests an audience.”

“Let him in,” Yin Chengyu said calmly.

He set aside the handkerchief and turned his gaze to the man stepping inside.

Xue Shu approached, his eyes falling on Yin Chengyu’s arm, which was wrapped in gauze. “Your Highness, your hand…”

“It’s nothing,” Yin Chengyu interrupted, gesturing for Zheng Duobao to escort the physician out. He lowered his sleeve to cover the injury and studied Xue Shu with deliberate focus.

He had thought this life’s Xue Shu might be different from the one he knew before. But that blood-stained handkerchief told a different story. Some things, it seemed, never changed.

This man’s preferences, for one, remained unwavering.

Xue Shu, puzzled by Yin Chengyu’s scrutiny, could only look back at him in confusion.

Yin Chengyu suddenly chuckled and raised his chin slightly. “Step closer.”

Xue Shu obeyed, taking two steps forward, leaving barely a stride between them.

At that moment, Yin Chengyu sat on the couch while Xue Shu stood before him. From within his sleeve, Yin Chengyu retrieved the blood-stained handkerchief, holding it delicately between two fingers. He waved it in front of Xue Shu’s eyes.

“This is mine, isn’t it? Care to explain how you stole it?”

Xue Shu glanced at the handkerchief but didn’t flinch, his expression calm and unapologetic. “I didn’t steal it.”

“Oh?” Yin Chengyu raised an eyebrow, his tone icy with mockery. “If you didn’t steal it, how did my handkerchief end up with you? Did it sprout legs and walk off on its own?”

“I found it,” Xue Shu replied steadily. “The day the demon fox was slain, I picked it up.”

He lowered his gaze slightly, but his eyes instinctively lingered on the pale, elegant hand holding the handkerchief. The faint scent of cold plum blossoms drifted through the air, making his chest tighten.

Xue Shu’s hand, hidden in his sleeve, clenched tightly. His breath grew unsteady, heat rising uncontrollably to his face. He quickly averted his gaze, daring not to look at the hand any longer. Even his ears burned red.

Yin Chengyu’s sharp eyes never left him, catching every flicker of his reaction. This was the first time he had seen Xue Shu so flustered and evasive.

His gaze swept over the reddened tips of Xue Shu’s ears. A spark of curiosity flickered, followed by a flicker of amusement. How young and inexperienced he still was—so easy to unravel with just a few probing words.

This Xue Shu was far more entertaining than the one from before.

Yin Chengyu’s lips curled into a faint smile. He narrowed his eyes and beckoned with a finger. “Bend down.”

Xue Shu hesitated but leaned forward obediently. The already narrow space between them shrank further, leaving them mere inches apart.

In the dim light of dusk, Yin Chengyu’s strikingly elegant features filled Xue Shu’s vision entirely. His eyes, his mind, his entire being could focus on no one else. All the noise of the world faded into silence.

“Your Highness…”

His voice came out instinctively, low and hoarse, like a tightly coiled spring suddenly released. His breathing turned scalding, his entire body feverish, as though submerged in boiling water. Heat radiated off him, his skin flushed red.

The beast he had long kept chained in his chest began to roar.

Yin Chengyu noticed the change in him but showed no anger. Instead, he studied Xue Shu intently. After a long moment, he raised his hand, letting his fingertips hover just above Xue Shu's face. Slowly, delicately, as though sketching a masterpiece, his fingers traced the sharp angles of Xue Shu's brows and eyes, slid down his profile, and stopped at the prominent line of his throat.

Applying slight pressure to Xue Shu's Adam’s apple, Yin Chengyu moved with deliberate slowness. His cool fingers barely touched, like a butterfly flitting among flowers or a dragonfly skimming the water. Light, fleeting, yet enough to stir a tempest deep in Xue Shu’s eyes.

Xue Shu’s tension hit its peak. His hands, clenched tightly at his sides, balled into fists, veins bulging across the backs as he fought to suppress the wild beast clawing within him.

Yin Chengyu’s fingers glided upward again, pinching Xue Shu’s jaw between two fingers, tilting his head lower. Admiring the taut control etched on his face, a rare flicker of amusement danced through Yin Chengyu’s expression.

No wonder, in their previous life, Xue Shu loved to toy with him in such a slow, calculated manner.

Back then, Xue Shu would light every lantern in the room, banishing every shadow, and watch him squirm under the harsh glare. He would feel shame, anger, and humiliation, once even demanding why Xue Shu took such pleasure in degrading him.

Xue Shu never answered directly, only smiling faintly as he replied, “Your Highness can’t always think only of yourself. Let me have a little fun too.”

A eunuch. Someone who had lost everything that defined a man. What joy could he possibly find in this?

At the time, Yin Chengyu couldn’t understand. He thought it was just an excuse to torment him.

But now, he understood. The thrill of seizing control of another’s desires, the power to shatter their composure with a single touch—how could that not be exhilarating?

Just as a storm raged behind Xue Shu’s eyes, Yin Chengyu withdrew his hand with practiced ease, casually playing with the handkerchief in his palm. His phoenix-like eyes, tilted and sharp, glanced at him with lazy indifference. “What were you doing with my handkerchief?”

The question was calm and detached, yet in Xue Shu’s ears, it was laced with a thousand hooks. Each hook dug into his chest, tangling his heart in a suffocating, exquisitely painful net of invisible strings. The ache was undeniable, but the itch—a maddening, unbearable itch—was worse.

Xue Shu’s gaze fixed on the handkerchief, his mind drifting back to that winter morning tinged with the faint scent of plum blossoms.

He had used that handkerchief.

And now Yin Chengyu was holding it openly, his pale, slender fingers twisting it, crumpling the soft fabric. Then, as if to taunt him further, Yin Chengyu lowered his head slightly and… sniffed it.

Dark waves surged in Xue Shu’s eyes. His clenched teeth betrayed the force it took to maintain control, his voice cracking and raw, barely coherent.

“Your servant… did nothing with it.”

Yin Chengyu keenly noticed his shift. Her sharp gaze swept over his darkened eyes, the restless movement of his throat... before finally settling, his elegant brows slowly knitting together in a faint expression of offense. His tone was laced with disdain: “What? Trying to announce to the world you’re a fake eunuch? Eager to be dragged off for a second round of cutting?”

In the Yan Palace, eunuchs underwent annual examinations. If anyone was found to have "recovered," they’d face another castration—grimly referred to as “a second cut.”

Xue Shu said nothing. He stood firm, showing no shame or hesitation. His dark, stormy eyes locked unwaveringly on her, as though wrestling with thoughts far from innocent.

Disgust flashed across Yin Chengyu’s face. Losing all interest, she dismissed him coldly: “Get out. Don’t pollute my sight.”

Xue Shu didn’t move, his piercing gaze fixed on her. After a long silence, he finally spoke: “Your Highness hasn’t returned my handkerchief.”

His laugh was sharp with incredulity. This man really has the gall of a bandit. He dared demand something he had taken from him? He glanced at the handkerchief in his hand before tossing it back, thoroughly unimpressed. “Take it and leave. Now.”

Xue Shu caught it, clutching it tightly. He bowed once, then finally retreated.

Watching his retreating figure, Yin Chengyu let out a derisive chuckle, only for his amusement to sour. The thought struck him—why had he endured so much only to retrieve a handkerchief?

What filthy use could he have for it?

No. Worse still, had he already used it for something?

His expression froze. Memories of the handkerchief’s lingering scent of snow plum overwhelmed him. A dark realization followed—that handkerchief had been discarded ages ago. How could it still carry such a strong scent?

He abruptly recalled how, just days prior, Xue Shu had requested two boxes of snow plum incense. It had seemed out of character—he’d never cared for fragrances before.

So that’s why! It was all for his depravity!

His face darkened completely.

Calling for a basin of water, he scrubbed her hands clean, but the thought still gnawed at him. Finally, he summoned Zheng Duobao, issuing instructions with icy precision: “Take note. Xue Shu’s return to the capital will no longer be rewarded.”

Yet, as the words left his lips, he realized this punishment was far too mild. He added with a sharp edge, “Also, prepare two taels of coptis root. Boil it into a decoction and deliver it to him. He seems overheated—he needs cooling down.”

Two taels of coptis!

———TN: 黄连 (huáng lián): This is the botanical name for Coptis chinensis, a perennial herb often used in traditional Chinese medicine. It has a very bitter taste and is known for its cooling and anti-inflammatory properties. ———

Zheng Duobao dared not question the Crown prince’s fury. Bowing hurriedly, he left to carry out the order.

Soon after, a bitter concoction was ready, and Zheng Duobao himself brought it to Xue Shu’s door.

When Xue Shu answered, his robe hung loosely, damp with cold moisture. His tone was indifferent. “What is it, Eunuch Zheng?”

Zheng Duobao hesitated, sighing inwardly at the bitter fate awaiting the man. “His Highness has sent a decoction to cool your fire,” he said delicately. “If you’ve angered His Highness, it’s best to admit fault. His Highness is always magnanimous.”

With that, he offered the bowl.

Xue Shu’s brows furrowed, but he accepted it without protest, downing it in one go. The bitterness twisted his features into a grimace, but he said nothing, handing the bowl back silently.

Returning to Yin Chengyu, Zheng Duobao reported the task complete.

Meanwhile, Xue Shu drank a pot of cold tea to rid his mouth of the lingering bitterness. Zheng Duobao wasn’t wrong—after the coptis decoction, any fire within him was thoroughly extinguished.

Throwing himself onto his bed, Xue Shu covered his eyes with a hand, only to sit up moments later. Lighting a snow plum incense burner, he glanced at the handkerchief, now freshly washed and hanging to dry. For now, the scent of burning incense would have to suffice.

Yet, whether it was the evening’s earlier tension or the intoxicating aroma of snow plum, dreams overtook him again.

This time, Yin Chengyu filled his vision.

The dream was vivid. In the flickering glow of lantern light, a tall bronze mirror reflected their shadows. Yin Chengyu stood clad in only a black silk robe, its smooth fabric clinging to his lithe figure. His pale skin glowed against the dark fabric, a stark contrast of light and shadow.

Xue Shu embraced him from behind.

Yin Chengyu resisted, but Xue Shu forced him to meet his own gaze in the mirror. Their reflections intertwined—black silk and flushed skin blending together.

His lips trailed down, biting with unrestrained hunger.

Xue Shu woke abruptly, his breath uneven, heat coursing through his body.

He sat in the pre-dawn chill, pushing his window open to let the cold spring air cool his restless mind. Sleep eluded him. Fixating on the pale moon, his turmoil grew.

Finally, he dressed and left, his steps leading him to the prison. The beast inside demanded release. Violence, blood, anything to quiet the chaos.

If he couldn’t have what he wanted, he’d find something else to destroy.

———TN: The obsession remains the same as always!