Chapter 68.

The palace held no secrets. News of Xue Shu being reprimanded by Emperor Longfeng, stripped of his positions in the Western Bureau and the Imperial Stables Bureau, spread like wildfire.

Returning to his quarters in the Western Bureau, Xue Shu changed into a fresh set of clothes. The moment he stepped out, he felt the probing gazes of the operatives under his former command. Those who once worked directly for him showed traces of concern on their faces, while the others—those who never stood by his side—could barely hide their smug delight.

His eyes swept over them coldly, unreadable and distant.

Such was the way of the inner palace—a viper’s nest of servile sycophants. The lower one's rank, the more eager they were to fawn over the powerful and trample the weak, as if by doing so, they could borrow a fraction of that authority for themselves.

When Xue Shu first entered the palace, he had no noble patron to shield him, no wealth to grease the wheels of favor. Sneers and scorn were his daily fare, while beatings from temperamental female officers or eunuchs came without reason or warning. That was his initiation into this gilded prison.

Even now, in the Western Bureau, where he once held power, he had been surrounded by a web of rivals. Above him sat the Grand Supervisor and the Head of Punishments—men who had cowered quietly in his shadow when Emperor Longfeng favored him. But now that the Emperor’s wrath had turned his way, those jackals would undoubtedly come sniffing for a weakness to exploit.

Yet Xue Shu knew their schemes would fail. If he dared to provoke the Emperor, it was only because he had every intention of regaining that trust.

A wry smirk ghosted over his lips as he thought of the approaching winter hunt. Confidence gleamed in his eyes. Without hesitation, he made his way toward Ciqing Palace.

*

When Xue Shu arrived at Ciqing Palace, the sky was already painted with the hues of evening.

Zheng Duobao, who had just finished reporting to Yin Chengyu, had already heard the midday gossip from Qianqing Palace. Upon hearing that Xue Shu had come seeking an audience, he merely sighed.

“Let him in,” Yin Chengyu said, his tone languid.

Zheng Duobao left to call Xue Shu inside, pausing to murmur some words of consolation as he greeted him. “It was just a scolding. Don’t take it to heart. Didn’t you always say you wanted to serve here at Ciqing Palace? Well, congratulations—your wish has come true.”

Xue Shu barely acknowledged him, offering a perfunctory hum before striding inside.

Within the room, Yin Chengyu was dressed in a casual dark blue robe lined with black fur at the collar. Seated leisurely by a low table, he poured himself tea with the unhurried elegance of someone born to command.

As Xue Shu entered, Yin Chengyu dismissed the servants with a wave of his hand and finally glanced up, his gaze sharp yet amused. “Zheng Duobao already filled me in on what happened at Qianqing Palace.”

Xue Shu lowered his eyes in submission. “I did it on purpose.”

He confessed without hesitation, his voice steady, devoid of regret.

Yin Chengyu’s lips curved into a sly smile. “I figured as much.” He didn’t seem the least bit annoyed, his tone almost teasing. “If you’re so eager to serve at Ciqing Palace, then stay. Zheng Duobao’s getting on in years; I hate to trouble him too much. You, however, can take his place.”

He rested his chin lazily on one hand, gesturing with the other toward his legs. “Start by massaging my legs.”

Xue Shu complied without a word, kneeling on one knee beside him. His hands moved with practiced precision, his touch firm yet controlled.

Yin Chengyu watched him with idle amusement, his expression turning more indulgent by the moment. His fingers reached out to toy with Xue Shu’s earlobe, his voice low and laced with mockery. “You’ve been unusually obedient these days.”

Xue Shu’s hands paused ever so briefly before resuming their steady rhythm. His voice, darker now, came with a subtle undercurrent. “If I’m obedient, will Your Highness treat me better?”

In the past, such words would never have crossed his lips. Pride and resentment had once shackled him, leaving him incapable of submission. He’d been trapped in a cycle of anger and bitterness, convinced that Yin Chengyu’s intimacy was a facade forced by circumstance.

But time—and a lifetime’s worth of regret—had taught him otherwise.

Someone like Yin Chengyu couldn’t be coerced. Pressure only pushed him further away. To draw him closer, Xue Shu had to expose his vulnerability, entice him step by step until he willingly fell into his grasp.

Burying the flicker of darkness in his eyes, Xue Shu let his fingertips graze lightly over the sensitive lines of Yin Chengyu’s legs, a touch so faint it could almost be overlooked.

Yin Chengyu merely chuckled, mistaking the subtle provocation for diligence. His fingers lingered along Xue Shu’s cheek, his voice dripping with amusement. “How shameless you’ve become.”

*

By imperial decree, Xue Shu stayed at Ciqing Palace, attending to Yin Chengyu’s every need, day in and day out.

Before Xue Shu's arrival, every detail of the Crown Prince’s daily life—from meals to clothing—was meticulously handled by Zheng Duobao, the palace steward eunuch. With no Crown Princess in place, Zheng Duobao had taken charge of the palace’s myriad affairs, often overwhelmed by the sheer workload. Yet he never dared to delegate anything concerning the crown prince to others. Trust didn’t come easily, and so he bore the burden alone, balancing everything as best as he could.

Now, with Xue Shu stepping in, things had shifted. Meticulous, efficient, and quick to gain the crown prince’s favor, Xue Shu naturally took over the day-to-day responsibilities of serving Yin Chengyu. Zheng Duobao was relieved to some extent, but the change left him vaguely uneasy, as if something didn’t quite sit right.

Since Xue Shu began attending to the Crown Prince, no one else could even get near him. Daylight hours saw Xue Shu assisting with washing and dressing; come nightfall, he was there for bathing and even warming the crown prince's bed. Tasks that were once shared by the eunuchs and maidservants of the palace dwindled into mere housekeeping duties.

Some quietly complained to Zheng Duobao, lamenting how Xue Shu had stolen their roles. Others, less discreet and more malicious, hinted that Xue Shu might be angling for the coveted position of Chief Eunuch of the East Palace.

Zheng Duobao, loyal to the Empress and bound by years of service to the prince, dismissed such talk as nonsense. Yet, watching Xue Shu carry a basin of water into the inner chambers one evening, he couldn’t help but wonder. Did someone really need to be so eager as to personally handle even the trivial task of foot washing?

Xue Shu, of course, remained oblivious to Zheng Duobao’s musings—or, if he had any inkling, he didn’t care.

Carrying the copper basin, he entered the inner chamber and set it down on the footrest with practiced ease. Rolling up his sleeves, he spoke with quiet confidence, “Your Highness, the water is infused with ginger to chase the chill. A good soak will warm you through.”

The November air had turned bitterly cold, with winter arriving sharper than the year before. In recent years, each winter seemed colder than the last, leaving countless homeless to perish in the frost. While no calamity had struck yet this year, Yin Chengyu’s thoughts were heavy with worry after reviewing reports from across the empire. He had proposed to the Emperor to cut palace expenditures, redirecting the savings toward establishing shelters and soup kitchens as a precaution.

The Emperor, always eager to bolster his reputation, readily agreed—after all, the cuts wouldn’t touch his personal luxuries. Any savings could even fund another palace or two. The Crown Prince, however, led by example, slashing allowances for the East Palace. Now, as winter set in, even the floor heating had been forsaken, replaced by a few scattered braziers.

For someone like Yin Chengyu, who was naturally sensitive to the cold, sleep had become a restless struggle. To ease this, Xue Shu had sought out an old remedy, adding ginger to the hot water to warm his master from the feet up.

But as the Crown Prince eyed the basin, he frowned. “Why not have someone else handle this?”

“Who could serve Your Highness as well as I?” Xue Shu replied smoothly, his tone light but his actions bold as he knelt, removed the prince’s shoes and socks, and gently lowered his feet into the steaming water.

Yin Chengyu’s pale skin was a sharp contrast to the dark water. His feet, untouched by sunlight, were as flawless as jade, delicate veins faintly visible beneath the surface. The heat flushed his skin pink, his toes curling slightly, resembling carved gems stained with crimson dye—an unintentional masterpiece of perfection.

Xue Shu’s gaze darkened as his Adam’s apple bobbed once, twice. Suppressing the surge within him, he began to knead the prince’s feet with deliberate care.

The firm, practiced touch drew a sigh of contentment from Yin Chengyu, who regarded Xue Shu with softer eyes than before. “There’s no need for you to trouble yourself with this. Pass the method to the others and let them handle it in the future.”

“I’m willing.”

The prince’s compassion was met with unwavering defiance. Xue Shu lifted his eyes, locking onto Yin Chengyu with a look that was both bold and unrelenting. His hands pressed deeper, his voice rough with unspoken intensity as he repeated, “I’m willing to serve you, Your Highness.”

If Yin Chengyu had harbored any doubts about Xue Shu’s intentions before, the hoarseness of his voice and the weight in his gaze laid them bare now. Lowering his eyes, the prince’s line of sight landed squarely on the evidence of the younger man’s unabashed desire.

So, this was the fire burning beneath Xue Shu’s composed surface—raw, unyielding, and impossible to ignore.

The fleeting trace of pity vanished in an instant. Yin Chengyu narrowed his eyes, lifted a leg, and rested it on Xue Shu’s knee. His damp foot pressed firmly against him, applying a bit more pressure. “I don’t think the strength is quite enough. What do you think?”

The fabric of Xue Shu’s clothes, soaked by the warm water, clung to his skin. By the time the dampness seeped through, it had turned cold.

Xue Shu clenched his teeth against the surge of sensation, refusing to let any sound escape.

“Then… this servant will apply more force,” he rasped, his voice fraying. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to suppress the fire roaring in his chest. Lowering his head, he resumed massaging Yin Chengyu’s acupoints, his fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive skin.

A faint tickle worked its way from the sole of his foot straight into Yin Chengyu’s chest. He shifted slightly, his gaze darting down to Xue Shu, foot pressing with a pointed warning to behave.

But Xue Shu ignored the caution entirely, continuing to knead with focused intent. Only the veins popping along his forearm betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

In the winter chill, water cools quickly. Barely two moments had passed before the basin’s contents turned icy.

Xue Shu carefully dried Yin Chengyu’s feet, finally standing once his task was complete. The hem of his soaked robe clung to his legs, dark stains revealing faint, blurry outlines of footprints.

Yin Chengyu reclined lazily on the couch, a warming stone tucked under his feet. His gaze danced with mockery as he drawled, “All that effort just to wash my feet, and now you’re wobbling like you can barely stand. A young man this frail? That won’t do. Perhaps I’ll have the kitchen prepare some tonic to strengthen you.”

Xue Shu’s lips pressed into a tight line. His eyes burned with unsatisfied hunger, locked on Yin Chengyu.

Never, not once, had he imagined that the prince would one day turn his own lessons back on him so mercilessly.

The feeling it left behind was maddening—thrilling yet unbearably unfulfilled. It ignited something dark and wild inside him, a need that clawed relentlessly at his restraint.

But in the end, he swallowed it all.

Fists clenching, Xue Shu bent down to lift the brass basin from the footstool.

Just as he leaned in, Yin Chengyu shifted forward. His fingers toyed idly with the stray strands of hair brushing Xue Shu’s temple. The upward slant of his phoenix eyes glinted with laughter as he spoke, his voice smooth and deliberate.

“Don’t forget to change out of those wet clothes. Wouldn’t want you catching cold. Someone might accuse me of mistreating you.”

Xue Shu met his gaze, the fire in his eyes smoldering despite his controlled demeanor. After a long pause, he finally responded, his voice low and gravelly. “Understood.”

———Author’s Note: Big Dog: I’m not here to ruin your fun—I’m here to join you. Zheng Duobao: … What?

———TN: Hahaha, you’re absolutely irresistible, Your Highness—oozing charm that’s downright impossible to ignore.