Chapter 69.

When night fell, Xue Shu remained stationed in the bedchamber, his role as the nighttime watchman unwavering.

The eunuchs before him had been relegated to the outer edge of the bedchamber, sleeping at the footstool of the carved canopy bed to await their master's nighttime summons. But when Xue Shu took over, Yin Chengyu ordered him to sleep on the luohan couch in the adjoining room instead.

The palace lights were extinguished, and silence enveloped the space. Only the occasional crackle of silver-threaded coals in the brazier disturbed the stillness, sending faint sparks into the air.

Xue Shu lay on the luohan couch, his eyes fixated on the canopy bed not far away, unwavering and intense. That bed— his bed, once. Back when Yin Chengyu had only recently reclaimed his position as Crown Prince, his foundation shaky and his court filled with spies. In those precarious times, Xue Shu stayed close, guarding him both in the day and through the night.

He had attended to him as he did now, their lives entwined: rising together, sleeping together.

Back then, Yin Chengyu relied on him to secure his power. Though sharp-tongued during the day, at night, within the confines of that bed, he yielded entirely, letting Xue Shu do as he pleased. The only rebellion he dared was his stifled silence, even at the height of pleasure. No matter how deeply he was taken, he refused to utter a sound. If pushed to his limit, he’d bite his hand, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes as he held himself back.

He craved the sight of him breaking down, screaming his frustration for the world to hear, yet he couldn't help but adore the fiery defiance in his refusal to surrender.

Xue Shu had reveled in it—his dominance, his control—and yet, it was Yin Chengyu’s unyielding spirit that intoxicated him. The higher the god stood, the sweeter his fall. To tarnish that purity, to soil that cold arrogance, only to fall deeper in love with it—it was a torment Xue Shu could never escape.

Even now, those memories burned in his chest, both painful and exhilarating. Back then, afraid to expose his vulnerabilities, Xue Shu had treated Yin Chengyu with an erratic mix of devotion and cruelty. But Yin Chengyu, ever shrewd, had come to understand his nature, his weaknesses, and had grown thorns to defend himself. No longer did he yield so easily; instead, he defied, resisted.

Yet Xue Shu had always wanted him—thorns and all. He wanted to crush those defenses and claim him entirely.

The ache of those recollections stirred a dark hunger in Xue Shu’s chest, a beast that roared and clawed, demanding to be let loose.

His heart thundered as he sat up, his gaze sharp and feral in the shadowed room.

This was the fourth night he had been allowed to stay in the bedchamber. By this hour, Yin Chengyu would be fast asleep, as he always was. If Xue Shu moved quietly, he could do anything—and he wouldn’t wake.

The thought sent his pulse racing, pounding in his ears as he slid soundlessly from the couch. He crossed the room and approached the canopy bed.

The figure beneath the covers lay still, breathing softly, serene and utterly vulnerable. Xue Shu stood there, watching him in silence, his gaze tracing every curve of that peaceful face. After a long moment, he knelt by the bedside, heat pooling in his palms as he reached beneath the covers.

Yin Chengyu was slender and cold by nature, his feet chilled even under the quilt. His blankets were filled with warming stones at night, but by now, they’d cooled. When Xue Shu’s fingers brushed against his icy toes, he paused, his breath catching. Then, reluctantly, he withdrew.

A frown creased his face as he wrestled with his desire, but reason won out.

He left the room briefly, returning moments later with fresh, steaming hot-water jars. Carefully, he pulled back the quilt, replaced the cooled stones, and tucked the warmth around Yin Chengyu’s feet.

The sudden chill must have disturbed him—Yin Chengyu frowned slightly in his sleep, curling his toes.

Xue Shu’s gaze fell to those delicate feet, pale and exquisite. He couldn’t help himself. His rough hands closed around them, kneading them firmly, relishing the way they fit in his grasp. When the unconscious man squirmed at the touch, Xue Shu only tightened his hold.

His lips found their way to those dainty toes, his teeth grazing the tender skin. The beast inside him howled, urging him to bite harder, to leave marks, to wake him and make him his once more. But he stopped short. The bite turned to a gentle suck, then a lingering kiss.

After a long moment, he placed the feet back beneath the warmed quilt, tenderly tucking them in as if handling something sacred. Then, with a controlled breath, he rose and retreated to his couch, leaving the Crown Prince undisturbed.

The night swallowed him whole, leaving the sleeping man oblivious to the storm of longing that had raged so close beside him.

*

When Yin Chengzhang died, Emperor Longfeng halted court affairs for seven days.

On the seventh day, the auspicious date selected by the Astronomical Bureau arrived for his burial. The funeral was arranged following the standards for a prince. Since Yin Chengzhang was only an imperial son, neither the courtiers nor the concubines attended to pay formal respects. Instead, rituals were muted, music was banned, and white mourning attire was observed for seven days.

After paying his respects as the elder brother, Yin Chengyu made his way to Kunning Palace to greet Empress Yu.

To his surprise, Concubine Rong and Yin Ciguang were also present.

The two sat below Empress Yu and immediately rose to bow upon seeing Yin Chengyu enter.

Since returning from Shandong, Yin Chengyu had yet to meet Yin Ciguang. Thinking back, it had been some time since they last saw each other, not since parting at the Imperial Medical Bureau.

Previously, Yin Ciguang had risked his life collaborating with imperial physicians to refine a bloodletting method to treat the lump epidemic. He later implemented this method across the prefectures of Zhili, saving countless lives and averting a devastating calamity.

Even Emperor Longfeng, who had always been indifferent to this eldest daughter, found it difficult to ignore such merit. Upon returning to the capital, he commended Yin Ciguang—a rare acknowledgment.

Similarly, Concubine Rong, who had long languished without favor, was elevated to the rank of imperial consort.

"Congratulations to Consort Rong and Eldest Sister," Yin Chengyu said with a faint smile. "I hear, Eldest Sister, you’ve recently taken to attending lectures at the Great Hall. But with only Fourth Brother and his companions attending classes there now, and the teachings being rudimentary, I fear it might not be suitable for you. Since the Great Hall is close to the East Palace, every other day scholars from the Hanlin Academy come to lecture me in the Hongren Hall. If you wish to hear more advanced lessons, you’re welcome to join me."

The Great Hall was traditionally the place for imperial princes and princesses to begin their education. However, with the exception of the Fourth Prince Yin Chengxu, the rest had all outgrown these elementary teachings.

For years, Yin Ciguang had been denied this opportunity due to Consort Rong's lack of favor and frequent targeting by Noble Consort Wen. Instead, he relied on a senior eunuch in Consort Rong’s service for basic instruction. Fortunately, Yin Ciguang’s sharp mind and hunger for knowledge kept him from falling behind.

Now that he had earned Emperor Longfeng’s favor, Yin Ciguang finally secured the chance to study formally at the Great Hall.

He cherished the opportunity, attending lectures with focused intensity, even though the material was basic. In his spare time, he quietly read and practiced calligraphy in the hall, posing questions to the scholars the next day.

He had never imagined that the Crown Prince would invite him to the Hongren Hall.

Unlike ordinary princes, the Crown Prince was the heir apparent of the empire. While other princes and princesses studied in the Great Hall, the Crown Prince, once instated in the Eastern Palace, received instruction directly from ministers and officials, focusing on statecraft.

Even now, despite his maturity, Yin Chengyu continued to host renowned scholars in the Hongren Hall for lectures. Such privilege was unheard of for ordinary royal offspring.

Startled, Yin Ciguang lifted his gaze toward Yin Chengyu. His eyes shimmered with emotion, and a faint flush warmed his usually pale cheeks.

Yin Ciguang was a master of reading people, and he knew Yin Chengyu’s words were genuine.

Yet, he hesitated, his head lowering slightly as a conflicted smile faded. “I deeply appreciate Your Highness’s kindness, but my knowledge is shallow. The lectures at the Great Hall are sufficient for me.”

Though he was nominally a princess, Yin Ciguang was, in truth, a man. The distinction between prince and princess was undeniable, and even if the Crown Prince showed him trust, propriety demanded caution.

The light in Yin Ciguang’s eyes dimmed, and he bowed his head, retreating into quiet deference.

Sometimes, he wished he had been born a woman. At least then, he wouldn't be trapped in such an agonizing and awkward dilemma.

Seeing that he wasn’t willing, Yin Chengyu didn’t press the matter. After exchanging a few pleasantries, mother and son wisely took their leave.

Once they were gone, Yin Chengyu finally sat down. She played with the baby in the cradle, Yin Chengyue, while striking up a conversation with Empress Yu.

“Did something happen with Noble Consort Rong and the Princess Royal?”

When he arrived earlier, he’d noticed Noble Consort Rong wiping away tears. Out of consideration for her dignity and Yin Ciguang’s reputation, he had refrained from mentioning it.

“What else could it be but the antics of Noble Consort Wen?” Empress Yu sighed, her brows knitting at the very mention of the woman. “The Princess Royal was rewarded, and Noble Consort Rong’s status was elevated alongside her. But just at this critical moment, the Second Prince ran into trouble. You know how Noble Consort Wen always believes that Consort Rong and the Princess Royal are her nemeses, constantly targeting them. Now that the Second Prince is gone, she’s completely unhinged. Yesterday, she crossed paths with Consort Rong, slapped her right across the face, and had the audacity to declare she would personally arrange a ‘good match’ for the Princess Royal.”

A good match?

From Noble Consort Wen?

As if.

Even with her gentle and tolerant nature, Empress Yu couldn’t suppress her disdain for the woman. “Noble Consort Wen just lost her son, and the Emperor, out of pity, has been letting her run rampant in the palace. That’s why Noble Consort Rong came to me for help.”

Ultimately, the Princess Royal’s marriage would require the Empress’s approval.

Yin Chengyu frowned as he listened. In his past life, after the Second Prince’s death, Noble Consort Wen, freed from her last constraint, had also spiraled into madness. However, at that time, Emperor Longfeng was consumed by his obsession with immortality. Even Noble Consort Wen couldn’t see him often, so her influence was limited. Back then, he’d used Consort De as a pawn to remove her once and for all.

But this life was different. Emperor Longfeng had not yet descended into the depths of his alchemical pursuits. Despite sharing his affections among various concubines, the years of bond with Noble Consort Wen still held sway, and she remained his favorite.

If she used this moment to stir up trouble...

Yin Chengyu cast a deep glance at Empress Yu and Yin Chengyue, his gaze hardening. “Noble Consort Wen is a schemer, and now that she has no more weaknesses, Mother must stay vigilant.”

He tapped the table with his knuckles thoughtfully. “I’ll send a few reliable men to Kunning Palace for protection. As for the Princess Royal’s marriage... she’s helped me a great deal. I already have plans in mind. No matter who brings it up, Mother, just block it outright.”

Though surprised at his concern for Yin Ciguang, Empress Yu agreed.

The two talked for a while longer. Yin Chengyu stayed for dinner at Kunning Palace before finally returning to Ci Qing Palace.

Trailing a step behind him was Xue Shu, now brazenly wearing the Eastern Palace insignia on his belt.

Once back at Ci Qing Palace, Yin Chengyu headed straight to Hong Ren Hall to deal with state affairs. Xue Shu, intending to follow, was stopped by a young eunuch.

“Steward Wei is here to see you,” the boy said.

After a brief hesitation, Xue Shu decided to meet Wei Xihe first.

Wei Xihe, who had accompanied Fang Zhengke to the southern provinces to investigate the salt trade, had just returned to the capital in September. His efforts had earned him a promotion to overseer.

“What is it?” Xue Shu asked as he approached the side gate of Guan Ju Hall, where Wei Xihe was waiting. Dressed in his brown uniform, Wei Xihe looked leaner than before his departure but stood tall with a sharp presence.

Wei Xihe had come to discuss matters concerning the Western Bureau. After saluting, he leaned in and reported in a low voice, “Since the supervisor Xue arrived at Ci Qing Palace, His Majesty decreed that Supervisor Zhao take over the Western Bureau. Many of our people have been suppressed, and some of the less loyal ones have already defected to Zhao Youwei...”

He had sought out Xue Shu today both to deliver the news and to seek advice on how to respond.

———Author’s Note: Big Doggo: Absolutely fearless.

———TN: I’m not about to stop hounding you to vote and rate this novel—so don’t even think about getting tired of it! Come on, do it now. Go ahead, make it happen!