Chapter 86.

Yin Chengjing's heartfelt words were sincere and deeply emotional. If he had been asking to marry a regular official’s daughter instead of Princess Uju, this scene might have been moving, even touching. As a father, Emperor Longfeng might have gladly given his blessing.

But the moment it struck him that the woman Yin Chengjing wanted was Princess Uju, a storm of suspicions began brewing in his mind.

Did he truly love the princess?

Or was there something darker at play—some hidden alliance with the Tatars lurking behind her name?

Ever since Yin Chengjing meddled in the court’s salt tax schemes, conspiring with officials to carve out a piece for himself, the emperor realized that his seemingly idle, frivolous third son wasn’t as carefree as he seemed.

He was ambitious. Dangerously so.

As Longfeng Emperor scrutinized him, his once-gentle expression frosted over, stiffening into a cold, unyielding mask. His gaze shifted, slow and deliberate, toward the silent Princess Uju. His tone was sharp, neither warm nor cold, but cutting nonetheless.

"Marriage is a matter of diplomacy between nations. Didn’t you, Princess Uju, once show interest in the crown prince? And now, you’re willing to marry my third son?"

Uju pursed her lips, instinctively glancing at Aharu, who stood just beyond the crowd. His towering figure loomed over the scene, a stark contrast to the smaller, more refined Yan men. She saw his expression clearly—vicious and dark, a thundercloud ready to strike.

Aharu had brought her to the Great Yan court with clear intentions. First, to secure an alliance through marriage with the crown prince. When that failed, he sought an even darker purpose—using the royal hunting grounds as a chance for Uju to assassinate the prince.

Now, neither goal had been achieved.

Uju’s position, once secure as the prized daughter of the Khan, now teetered on the edge. Her mother was far from favored, and the Khan’s harem overflowed with wives and daughters, any of whom would leap at the chance to take her place. Her current status wasn’t a gift but a weapon she had honed through obedience and ruthless cunning, eliminating obstacles to her father’s conquests.

But after two failed missions?

The enemies she had made while basking in the Khan’s favor would pounce, and the sisters she had eclipsed would be all too eager to see her fall.

Going back wasn’t an option.

Her gaze flickered briefly toward Yin Chengjing, the man whose secrets she now knew too well. He wouldn’t let her go easily, not after this.

In the blink of an eye, she weighed her options and made her decision. Lowering her head, she feigned shyness and delight, her voice soft yet firm. "Your Majesty of Great Yan, my admiration for the crown prince was only that—pure admiration. After spending days in the hunting grounds, I have come to realize the one I truly care for is the third prince."

The display of mutual affection was flawless, leaving the emperor little room to maneuver. To refuse now would make him seem unfeeling.

“Marriage between nations is no trivial matter,” the emperor said coolly. “It must be carefully arranged. I will have the Minister of Rites oversee the details.”

In other words, he had agreed.

Yin Chengjing immediately expressed his gratitude. “Thank you, Father, for granting us your blessing.”

The emperor gave him a long, hard look, showing no concern for his injuries. “You’ve been hurt. Go back to your palace and rest. Have the imperial physicians treat you properly so you don’t suffer lasting damage.”

The words “lasting damage” struck like a knife. Yin Chengjing’s face twisted briefly before he forced himself to compose it.

After an emotional farewell with Princess Uju, he departed, accompanied by Consort De. The imperial physician, Wang Taiyi, followed closely, finally summoned to examine the prince’s injuries.

Once inside the palace, the strength Yin Chengjing had been holding onto snapped. His back hunched, his fists clenched tightly, and his pale face contorted in pain. He grabbed Consort De’s hand, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. "Mother, clear the room. I don’t want anyone else here."

Consort De knew her son too well. His injuries were clearly not ordinary. With a calm yet commanding tone, she dismissed everyone except a trusted maidservant and the physician.

Wang Taiyi felt a chill run down his spine the moment the doors closed. The air in the room grew oppressive as Consort De spoke, her tone light but laced with menace. "I hear congratulations are in order. Didn’t your eldest grandson just arrive last month?"

The physician’s face paled. “Yes… He was born on the 29th of last month…”

Though experienced and accustomed to palace intrigues, Wang Taiyi’s heart raced. He broke into a cold sweat, sensing danger in her seemingly casual words. With trembling hands, he approached Yin Chengjing to examine the wound.

The moment he unwrapped the blood-soaked cloth, his breath caught. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the extent of the injury.

Falling to his knees with a heavy thud, he prostrated himself, his body shaking. "Your Highness, Your Majesty, please spare my life!"

Terror was written across his face, and Consort De, though outwardly composed, felt her heart pound in unease. Forcing a smile, she said softly, "The full-moon banquet for your grandson hasn’t been held yet, has it? I’ve prepared a small gift in advance for the occasion. Consider it a token of my goodwill."

After the words were spoken, a female attendant standing by stepped forward, holding a heavy brocade pouch with both hands.

Physician Wang glanced at it, his hesitation clear, but he didn’t dare refuse. Trembling slightly, he accepted it with a shaky hand.

Then, Consort De lowered herself to a crouch, one hand resting firmly on his shoulder. Though she fought to keep her tone calm, the tension in her voice betrayed a flicker of raw menace, fueled by the severity of Yin Chengjing’s injuries. Her words, sharp and commanding, cut through the air:

“My son’s life is now in your hands, Physician Wang. You will treat him well. No mistakes.”

Physician Wang flinched, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, stammering a feeble, “Y-Yes, Your Grace.”

*

After the hunt ended, the customary banquet began that very night.

Even though Yin Chengjing was absent due to his injury, the festivities didn’t falter one bit. In fact, with Emperor Longfeng now harboring suspicions about him and eager to flaunt his might before the Tatar and Oirat envoys, the banquet turned out even grander and more lively than ever before.

Though the rankings for the winter hunt wouldn’t be announced until the next day, it was already clear to everyone: Yin Chengyu had emerged as the undisputed victor.

The Tatar and Oirat envoys wore expressions as sour as spoiled wine, while the officials of Great Yan, having endured years of petty jabs and scorn from these smaller nations, finally relished their moment of triumph. With drinks in hand, they flocked to toast and jeer at the defeated envoys, whose forced smiles were a spectacle in themselves.

Yin Chengyu’s seat was right next to Emperor Longfeng’s, a position of undeniable prominence. At first, a stream of officials and noble scions approached him with their cups raised. He endured the first round of toasts but soon feigned a lack of tolerance for alcohol, dismissing further advances.

Now, he simply sat back in his seat, lazily sipping his drink and quietly conversing with Xue Shu.

"What did you do to the third prince?"

Xue Shu, kneeling just slightly behind him, leaned in while pouring more wine, his voice low and mischievous. “If nothing unexpected happens, the third prince might be destined for a eunuch’s life. Princess Uju did the deed, not me.”

Yin Chengyu froze, momentarily stunned by the answer.

That strange tension between Yin Chengjing and Princess Uju earlier suddenly made sense. He had doubted any real romance between the two, but he never imagined this was the story beneath the surface.

Casting a sidelong glance at Xue Shu, he noted how the man tactfully distanced himself from blame. Yet it was clear Xue Shu had orchestrated the situation from the shadows, as always, striking precisely at a person’s most vulnerable point.

After staring at Xue Shu for a long moment, Yin Chengyu let out a soft snort. “Judging by his glare, the third prince has pinned this one on me.”

Xue Shu lowered his gaze, his expression hidden behind his wide sleeves. Under the low table, his hand reached out and hooked around Yin Chengyu’s fingers, a secretive gesture that mirrored their hushed exchange. “Forgive me for causing trouble for you, Your Highness.”

His fingers entwined tightly with Yin Chengyu’s, a subtle heat in his touch. Raising his eyes, Xue Shu looked at him—not with remorse, but with an undercurrent of emotion that made Yin Chengyu’s pulse race. “But didn’t you say you’d protect me?”

Yin Chengyu sipped his wine, refusing to meet Xue Shu’s gaze, yet under the table, his hand didn’t retreat. Instead, his cool fingers slid up Xue Shu’s arm, pressing lightly on his pulse, stroking with deliberate slowness as though savoring the rhythm of blood flowing beneath. His lips quirked into a sly smile. “It’s hardly trouble.”

The subtle scent of plum blossoms and wine intermingled, wrapping around Xue Shu and muddling his senses.

Xue Shu tightened his grip, their fingers slotting together with a possessive finality. “You’ll protect me,” he murmured, this time with unshakable confidence, a hint of smugness coloring his words.

Yin Chengyu tilted his head, his gaze sliding toward their overlapping sleeves. Tonight, both wore wide-sleeved robes, the rich crimson and pale blue fabric pooling together in an intimate tangle that whispered of secrets no one else could see.

His smirk deepened.

The Xue Shu of his past life had never been so docile. Back then, he was a tempest, relentless and all-consuming, determined to devour everything until there was nothing left. Now, though, he seemed almost pliant.

Feigning a hint of drunkenness, Yin Chengyu leaned lazily toward Xue Shu, propping his head on one hand while his other hand gestured casually for more wine. His voice dropped to a teasing whisper, his breath warm against Xue Shu’s ear. “Pour me another. Serve me well, and I’ll shield you.”

Xue Shu’s ears burned, the heat spreading to his chest, but he masked it with a steady hand as he poured the wine. Beneath the table, his grip on Yin Chengyu’s hand tightened, his silent yearning communicated in that intimate grasp.

Yin Chengyu took the refilled cup, sipping leisurely, his lips curling in amusement.

Around them, the hall was alive with laughter and chatter. No one paid the slightest attention to the concealed dance of fingers beneath the table, nor the subtle electricity sparking between their hidden hands.

Across the room, Yin Ciguan caught sight of their quiet exchange, the unspoken barrier around them deterring all but the boldest. After a brief hesitation, she approached with a cup in hand.

“Congratulations, Crown Prince, on claiming the top honor.”

Yin Chengyu spotted her approach and instinctively tried to withdraw his hand, but Xue Shu clung stubbornly to it.

Unfazed, Yin Chengyu turned to her with a polite smile. “Elder sister, your health is fragile. Why not toast with tea instead?”

Turning his gaze to Xue Shu, he instructed smoothly, “Bring tea for the princess.”

Xue Shu locked eyes with him, reluctant, but he eventually released his hold and rose to fetch the tea.

However, Yin Ciguan smiled softly. “One cup of wine won’t hurt.” Her dark, sparkling eyes gleamed as she raised her cup toward Yin Chengyu. “I’d like to share a drink with you.”

Seeing her insistence, Yin Chengyu lifted his own cup and clinked it gently against hers.

The crisp sound of porcelain meeting porcelain echoed faintly, the wine rippling within their cups.

Together, they drank.

Yin Ciguan, ever perceptive, bowed slightly and returned to her seat, leaving Yin Chengyu to sink back into his chair.

All the while, beneath the table, the embers of their secret lingered, unnoticed by the bustling crowd.

The fiery liquor burned as it slid down his throat, leaving him pleasantly buzzed. Without meaning to, he glanced up, only to catch sight of Yin Chengyu leaning in closer to Xue Shu. Their heads tilted conspiratorially, lips moving in quiet conversation, and that ever-present smirk tugging at Yin Chengyu’s mouth.

Before he realized it, he’d downed half a jug of wine. The heat in the hall felt suffocating, oppressive. Rubbing at his temples, Yin Ciguang didn’t bother calling for the maidservants to follow. He slipped outside alone, craving a moment of cool air.

But someone had noticed. Mubai’er, who’d been nursing his own drink in brooding silence, tracked the movement with sharp eyes. His thoughts flickered back to the message delivered by Consort Wen’s people earlier. Only now did he piece it together: it had been her last time too.

And this time? Her words were even more pointed. Everything’s been arranged, she’d said. If the prince wanted to claim his prize, he needed to act boldly, to take the plunge—turn raw rice into cooked.

Turn raw rice into cooked.

It was a hell of a suggestion, and one that suited Mubai’er’s taste. A wicked gleam flared in his eyes as he thought of the promised ten thousand warhorses.

With a predator’s certainty, he stood and followed the lone figure into the shadows.

———Author’s Note: Big Dog: Publicly sneaking around is thrilling as hell. His Highness: ...Excuse me?

——— TN: It's way too quiet here... If you’re into this novel, prove it—rate it, vote for it, and leave some damn comments to show your love!

Don’t get it twisted—if you’re wondering why the author switches between "she/her" and "he/him" when talking about Yin Ciguang, here’s the deal: Yin Ciguang is a man, but since birth, his concubine mother disguised him as a woman to protect him from the cutthroat chaos of the harem.

Only his trusted people and Yin Chengyu know the truth.

When the story dives into his private moments—whether with his mother, Yin Chengyu, or his own inner thoughts—you’ll notice the use of "he/him." It’s intentional, so stay sharp and keep this in mind as you read.