Chapter 31.

Yin Ciguang clearly understood the meaning behind his words.

With a slow, deliberate bow, he lowered his head and spoke, his voice steady yet charged with emotion: "Your Highness, the Crown Prince, your kindness is etched into my very soul. I swear to repay it with every breath I take. Should there ever come a day I betray you, let me die a wretched death."

Yin Chengyu, calm and composed, reached out to lift him up. "Elder sister, there’s no need for such weighty words. Between siblings, supporting each other is only natural. I expect no repayment."

To him, neither Yin Ciguang nor Concubine Rong posed any real threat to his position. Protecting them was a trivial matter, hardly requiring effort. It wasn’t about gaining leverage over Yin Ciguang—it was just something he could afford to do within his sphere of power.

But Yin Ciguang didn’t see it that way. He hadn’t come seeking protection out of blind hope for Chengyu’s goodwill—he had brought bargaining chips to the table.

Now that the Crown Prince had agreed to extend his protection, Yin Ciguang wasn’t about to hold back.

"This time, I have another matter to share with Your Highness," he said, pausing for a moment to stifle a cough. Then, lowering his voice, he continued, "Recently, I happened to cross paths with Father’s new favorite, Lady Xiao, and noticed something peculiar. The incense she uses carries a distinctive scent that struck me as suspicious. As someone who’s been ill for years, I’ve developed an acute sensitivity to such things. That scent, I realized, is none other than Suhexiang, a fragrance banned by the court."

Suhexiang had been outlawed since Emperor Xiaozong’s reign. While its aroma was subtle, its effects were anything but—it was a potent aphrodisiac. During Xiaozong’s era, a concubine had used it to secure his favor, only for the Emperor to collapse after excessive exposure. The scandal led to the concubine’s execution and the fragrance’s prohibition.

Though it had largely faded into obscurity over the years, whispers of it lingered among the palace’s old hands, particularly those who had once served in the brothels before becoming matriarchs. Such women occasionally smuggled traces of it into the palace.

Concubine Rong, who had risen from such a background, had received a rare Suhexiang pellet from one of these matrons—a twisted token of survival, meant to help her secure a child and ensure her place. She had used it successfully, though the details of that sordid tale weren’t something Yin Ciguang felt the need to share now.

Instead, he focused on the present. "While this incense might rejuvenate a man in the moment, it comes at a grave cost. Over time, it drains the body, leaving it hollow."

Yin Chengyu arched an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement playing across his features. He knew Lady Xiao, a mere merchant’s daughter, had been chosen as a consort this year and quickly ascended to the title of “beauty,” basking in Emperor Longfeng’s favor. Yet her connections to Consort De raised intriguing questions.

How would a merchant’s daughter have access to Suhexiang, a fragrance forgotten by most?

But if it was supplied by Yin Chengjing—known for his circle of performers—or arranged by Consort De herself to maintain influence, the pieces aligned.

"Understood. My thanks for bringing this to my attention," Yin Chengyu said, slowly turning the jade ring on his finger as his gaze lingered on Yin Ciguang, now tinged with intrigue.

This brother of his, though frail, was hardly the meek victim he appeared to be.

Yin Ciguang didn’t press him about whether he intended to expose Lady Xiao. Instead, he simply bowed and excused himself, leaving Yin Chengyu to his thoughts.

Alone, the Crown Prince’s mind wandered. Suhexiang… it stirred memories of a past life.

In that previous timeline, as Emperor Longfeng aged, he grew obsessed with immortality. The Jiu Qiansui Xue Shu had once introduced him to an alchemist, the so-called Ziyuan Daoist, who excelled in crafting elixirs. The Emperor had taken a liking to the man, retreating to the Yuxi Palace to pursue alchemy and neglecting state affairs.

Governance had fallen into Xue Shu’s hands.

Ironically, this had paved the way for Yin Chengyu’s eventual rise, granting him legitimate authority to oversee the court and consolidate power step by step.

Now that the Longfeng Emperor has momentarily quieted his ambitions due to the fox spirit scandal, his obsession with chasing immortality and divine wisdom hasn’t waned one bit. With the treasury just starting to recover, he’s already busy planning the renovation of temples and inviting so-called enlightened masters to court.

Yin Chengyu, for one, is all too happy to see this.

Living a second life, he has no intention of wasting time tangled in power struggles, nor does he wish to endure the endless chains of manipulation. Yet, the tension between him and the Emperor, his biological father, is an irreconcilable reality.

As a man who values honor and righteousness, he can’t afford to leave behind any excuse for being labeled a patricide. That means he has to find another way to divert the Emperor’s attention.

And today, Yin Ciguang’s mention of suhexiang gave him an idea. The Emperor isn’t young anymore; if this incense lures him into indulging in carnal pleasures, his body won’t last long under such strain. Once he starts feeling his strength slipping, he’ll inevitably return to his desperate pursuit of the supernatural, just like in the previous life.

That moment will be Yin Chengyu’s golden opportunity.

Let the Emperor lose himself in the futile search for immortality and neglect the empire’s affairs. As the Crown Prince, stepping in as regent would then be perfectly justified.

For that reason, not only will he refrain from exposing Lady Xiao’s little tricks, but he’ll also quietly cover for her. After all, she’s De Fei’s pawn, and the forbidden incense was procured by Yin Chengjing. Should things spiral out of control, the blame for betrayal and unfilial behavior will naturally land on Yin Chengjing.

Yin Chengjing has always enjoyed sitting back and letting others clash, playing the patient fisherman. Who knows if he’s already set up an escape route for himself this time.

Yin Chengyu clasped his hands behind his back, leaving the pavilion with a commanding air. He ordered Zheng Duobao, waiting outside, to investigate Lady Xiao. “If anything suspicious about her comes to light, make sure to cover it up.”

*

The next day, Yin Chengyu sent a discreet message through Zhao Lin to Xue Shu, summoning him to Ciqing Palace that evening.

Xue Shu received the message during the day and spent every agonizing moment longing for the cover of night to arrive.

When the sun finally dipped below the horizon and the luminous moon rose high, he deliberately chose an untraveled path to sneak into Ciqing Palace.

Yin Chengyu had already instructed Zhao Lin to clear the guards from the Eastern Palace, ensuring Xue Shu’s passage was uninterrupted—an open invitation disguised as secrecy.

Since this was a clandestine meeting, Yin Chengyu didn’t greet him in the main hall but waited in the outer chamber of his bedchamber instead.

Xue Shu had been here once before, but last time, his entire focus had been consumed by Yin Chengyu. He hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings. Tonight, walking in through the main entrance, he finally noticed the details: the soft, luxurious rugs blanketing the floor and the light, sheer curtains swaying gently with the summer breeze, replacing the thick drapes of winter.

Candlelight flickered behind the veils, casting warm, hypnotic shadows, and there he was.

Yin Chengyu sat by an enormous gold-plated dragon-shaped candelabra, its glow painting his white inner robes with a golden hue. A casual elegance enveloped him as he flipped through an old book, his bare feet sinking into the plush rug.

When he heard Xue Shu enter, he paused, his slender fingers pressing down on the page. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head, the flames in his eyes dancing like wildfire.

“You’re here?” His voice was smooth yet commanding, with just the faintest edge of teasing.

Xue Shu stopped a single step away, his instinctive habit of lowering his gaze betrayed when he caught sight of those flawless bare feet. The perfection of them stunned him into an almost visceral reaction.

His eyes flickered, betraying the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. Quickly, he raised his gaze, only to lock onto Yin Chengyu’s smirk—a mix of amusement and quiet challenge.

“What are you looking at?” Yin Chengyu’s voice was a lazy taunt, but it carried an undertone sharp enough to cut.

Xue Shu pressed his lips together, meeting his gaze head-on. The hunger within him, wild and untamed, grew impossible to suppress. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, traced the contours of Yin Chengyu’s form, finally landing on the intricate embroidery of his collar.

“That’s the robe I sent you yesterday, isn’t it?” Xue Shu’s voice was low, steady, and laced with unspoken meaning.

He had no proof, but he knew. The bamboo embroidery on the collar—unique, deliberate—couldn’t lie.

The fire in his eyes was undeniable now.

Yin Chengyu glanced at him sideways, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “All my robes are managed by Zheng Duobao. How would I know which one you sent?”

Before Xue Shu could press the matter, Yin Chengyu changed the subject, his tone brisk and commanding. “I called you here for business.”

He closed the book with an air of finality and stood, walking to the table where a paperweight held down a detailed portrait. His fingers tapped the edge of the table, drawing Xue Shu’s attention.

“I need you to find this man.”

The image depicted an old Taoist priest, his hair white as snow but his face sharp and youthful, his piercing eyes brimming with energy.

“Who is he?”

“A wandering Taoist. He calls himself Ziyuan Zhenren, though his real name is unknown. He might be in the Datong area of Shanxi right now.”

In his past life, Xue Shu had spent three long years tracking down the elusive Master Ziyuan and finally delivering him to Emperor Longfeng's court.

Master Ziyuan wasn’t some enlightened sage or immortal seeker—oh no, he was just a cunning Taoist priest who knew how to play the game. Born and raised in a Taoist temple, he mastered the art of spinning tales and dazzling gullible minds. His naturally striking white hair gave him an air of mystique that only added to the con. He wasn’t even that old—barely in his forties—but the man had the gall to claim he’d seen over a century of life. And people bought it.

Wherever he went, they bowed and called him “the old immortal” with reverence.

Xue Shu originally tracked him down in Datong, Shanxi, though that turned out to be a fluke.

The truth?

Ziyuan wasn’t from Shanxi at all. Even Yin Chengyu, who should’ve known, couldn’t say where the man’s roots truly were. Now, with three years shaved off his time, he needed Xue Shu to dig up the trail once more—if the old trickster was even still lingering in Shanxi.

Yin Chengyu’s expression darkened, his tone dipping into something more serious. “If he’s not there, expand your search to the surrounding regions.”

Xue Shu nodded, his sharp mind piecing together the implications. “The Emperor has recently asked me to keep an eye out for capable talents. Is this man one of His Majesty’s candidates?”

Yin Chengyu’s lips curled ever so slightly, an expression both approving and sly. “Since you already understand, there’s no need for me to explain further. Find him and bring him back quickly.”

He removed the paperweight, folding the portrait with meticulous care before placing it in Xue Shu’s hands.

For a fleeting moment, their fingers brushed, Yin Chengyu’s cool touch sending a ripple through Xue Shu’s composure. He didn’t pull away immediately; instead, he let his fingers linger, savoring the brief contact, his voice dropping to a heated murmur.

“Will there be a reward?”

Yin Chengyu scoffed, his gaze sharp and cutting. “Didn’t I already reward you recently? Your appetite seems insatiable.”

Xue Shu’s eyes never wavered. “The handkerchief, though beautiful, is… too delicate. It doesn’t hold up under… heavy use.”

The insinuation hung thick in the air.

Yin Chengyu’s smile faltered, his expression hardening. Though they both knew the purpose the handkerchief had served, the audacity of Xue Shu to voice it aloud was infuriatingly bold.

Was this man so confident in his immunity to punishment?

Yin Chengyu’s smile vanished entirely as he grasped Xue Shu’s chin between two fingers, his gaze narrowing. “If you know it’s delicate, then use it sparingly. Your trip to Shanxi will take at least half a month. If you wear it out, don’t expect me to replace it.”

Releasing him with a flick of disdain, Yin Chengyu turned away, his voice cold and dismissive. “I’m retiring for the night. Get out.”

Xue Shu lingered, the heat of desire and defiance burning in his chest, but he bowed low and departed without another word.

———Author’s Note: The dog: The handkerchief is definitely not as useful as...