Chapter 10.

When Zheng Duobao came back with the food box, Yin Chengyu was already deep asleep. He let out a sigh, muttering under his breath, "Skipping meals won't do you any good." But since the prince had finally managed to doze off, waking him now wasn't an option. With a click of his tongue, Zheng tiptoed back out, ordering someone to keep the dishes warm in the kitchen.

"I had the kitchen prepare ginger soup. When His Highness wakes up, you'll serve him a bowl—it should help," Xue Shu said casually as he swapped the cold bed warmer for a freshly heated one, tucking the edges of the quilt with deliberate care.

Hearing that, Zheng instinctively let out a faint "Eh," before realizing something was off.

Since when did Xue Shu start doing his job?

Zheng Duobao watched Xue Shu's retreating figure with a perplexed frown. The more he thought about it, the less it made sense. Eventually, he gave up. Whatever. It was all for His Highness' sake anyway.

As Xue Shu stepped outside, ready to head downstairs to the kitchen, a faint rustling of fabric reached his ears from the corridor to his right. His stride halted. The sound stopped just as abruptly. His sharp gaze flicked toward the shadows, but no figure revealed itself—just a faint ripple of movement against the dim light. This floor of the cabin was reserved for the Crown Prince. No commoner could reach here, let alone skulk around like this.

Xue Shu's eyes darkened with a razor edge. Without hesitation, he drew the blade at his waist and hurled it.

The gleaming knife spun through the air, slicing with deadly precision into the intruder's abdomen. A muffled grunt echoed as a figure collapsed in the corridor. At the same moment, a splash from the river outside shattered the silence.

Xue Shu moved fast, rounding the corner to see a man writhing on the floor with a blade in his gut, while another shadowy figure fled into the water. His eyes narrowed, calculating. Whistling sharply to alert the guards, Xue Shu dove into the river without a second's pause, slicing through the icy currents like a predator.

Spring might've arrived, but the river's chill still clawed to the bone. For most, these waters would be a death sentence. But Xue Shu wasn't most people.

The middle-aged man who'd leapt into the river believed he was home free. He barely had time to savor his escape before the sound of powerful strokes sliced through the water behind him. Turning in panic, he caught sight of a lean figure in pursuit, closing the gap with terrifying ease.

Dark water slicked back Xue Shu's hair, sharpening his pale face and inky eyes into a ghostly contrast—black against white, a specter of vengeance cutting through the mist. The man barely had time to register the image before Xue Shu was upon him.

The fight in the water was brief and brutal. The man's strength couldn't hold against Xue Shu's relentless precision. Within moments, his wrists were wrenched behind him, and his head was shoved under the icy water.

No amount of swimming skill could save him now. He flailed, his movements growing weaker with each plunge beneath the surface. By the time Xue Shu hauled him out, the man's limbs were limp, his face pale, his breath ragged and gurgling.

Dragging the half-drowned figure back to the deck, Xue Shu tossed him onto the planks like discarded cargo. The Four Guard Battalion soldiers froze as he climbed aboard, water streaming off him like a soaked predator.

Their first impression of Xue Shu had been skepticism. A eunuch, young enough to still seem green, yet somehow placed above them? Most had brushed him off as some decorative authority, pampered and soft.

But seeing him now—dead-eyed, drenched, and dragging a prisoner from the jaws of death—shook them.

Xue Shu snatched the towel cloth offered by a subordinate, wiping his face with the carelessness of someone who didn't feel the cold. "Throw him in the cargo hold," he barked, tone sharp as steel. "I'll interrogate him later."

Without waiting for acknowledgment, he strode back toward the cabin, leaving wet footprints and uneasy respect in his wake.

He waded into the water, drenched to the bone, his clothes clinging to his skin. If they weren't thick clothes, his damn secrets would be on full display.

Xue Shu hurried back to change into dry clothes, then made his way to the cargo hold.

This barge had been requisitioned at the last minute, so naturally, it was empty. Both the upper and lower holds were barren. The two men they'd caught were locked up in the lowest cargo hold.

The middle-aged man who had jumped into the water had come to by now, his hands bound and hung up by a pillar. The other one had taken a knife to the gut from Xue Shu, left with only half a life, not hung but tied and tossed aside like a useless sack.

Four soldiers stood guard inside the hold. When they saw Xue Shu approach, they immediately saluted.

The lead soldier brought over a chair, wiping away nonexistent dust, eager to please. "Master Xue, you can observe our interrogation here."

If it weren't for the circumstances, he probably would've served tea with fruits and snacks to sweeten the deal.

Xue Shu didn't even acknowledge the flattery. He waved his hand dismissively, his voice cold as ice. "I'll handle this personally."

His cold aura was unyielding, and with a calculated voice—imitating the sinister eunuch Gao Xian—he took on the cruel demeanor of a feared official. The tension in the room was palpable, and even the soldiers shivered at the presence he commanded.

The soldiers fell silent, stepping back obediently.

Xue Shu approached the suspended middle-aged man. "Name."

"Sun... Sun Erlai." The man, having already experienced Xue Shu's ruthlessness, wasn't a tough nut to crack. He quickly gave up his name.

Xue Shu continued, "Can you write?"

Sun Erlai, though confused by the question, quickly nodded, eager to please. "Yes, yes, I can."

Xue Shu gave a slight nod, seemingly satisfied, before turning to the soldiers. "Cut out his tongue. I don't want him disturbing the prince while we talk."

Sun Erlai's face went pale, and he begged for mercy, but one glance at Xue Shu's cold, piercing eyes had him trembling, paralyzed by fear.

The rest of the interrogation went smoothly.

Without a tongue, Sun Erlai was broken, spilling every last detail.

Once Xue Shu had the signed confession, he was content and left the cargo hold.

Zhao Lin, arriving a step late, was waiting outside. He stepped forward as Xue Shu emerged. "Master Xue, did you get the results?"

Xue Shu nodded, then asked, "Has the prince woken up?"

"He's awake."

Xue Shu was about to head upstairs but paused, casually saying, "I'll present the signed confession to the prince. Those two men have no further use. For spying on the prince's movements with ill intent... throw them in the river to feed the fish."

He dusted off his clothes and headed off to report to Yin Chengyu.

Zhao Lin, left behind, took a look inside the hold, frowning.

The two criminals were barely alive, sprawled on the floor, their limbs twisted grotesquely. Their mouths gaped open, but there were no tongues. One was in even worse shape, his left eye gouged out, his fingers hacked off, leaving only his right hand with the thumb still intact for the seal.

Zhao Lin unsheathed his blade, swiftly ending their lives before ordering their bodies to be dumped in the river.

*

Xue Shu strode into the room, and there sat Yin Chengyu, gripping a bowl of ginger tea, sipping it in small, deliberate gulps. His brow was furrowed like a bowstring pulled taut.

The moment Yin Chengyu noticed someone enter, his sharp glare landed on Xue Shu, laced with impatience. Only after a long pause did he speak. "So? Got anything out of them?"

He was already on edge. The clamor of guards storming upstairs had jarred him awake, and only then did he learn there were infiltrators aboard his ship.

"See for yourself." Xue Shu handed over a written confession, keeping an eye on Yin Chengyu's expression. "You look better now, Your Highness."

Yin Chengyu ignored the comment, focusing on the document instead.

The ginger tea was working—barely. Spicy and vile as it tasted, it settled the storm in his stomach after just half a bowl. That alone made him endure the rest.

"People from the Cao Gang?" Yin tossed the confession onto the table with a dry laugh. "Looks like Wan Youliang's getting desperate."

The infiltrators hadn't outright named Wan Youliang, but it didn't take much to connect the dots. The only person both obsessed with tracking his movements and bold enough to send assassins was Wan Youliang.

"Sending water-savvy spies onto the ship right at Tongzhou's docks? Bold. That salt field fattened not just his purse but his courage too."

"What about those two?" Yin Chengyu tapped the table rhythmically, pondering how to send Wan Youliang a fitting 'gift.' Xue Shu answered before he could finish the thought.

"Dead."

Yin Chengyu's head snapped up, irritation flashing across his face. "Dead? Who told you to kill them? They might've been useful."

"They dared target Your Highness," Xue Shu said, his tone low and unyielding. "A thousand deaths wouldn't suffice for their crime."

There was no guilt in his voice, no hesitation. His dark gaze gleamed with a familiar cruelty—a faint echo of the man Yin Chengyu remembered from their past life.

Yin Chengyu fell silent. It wasn't worth arguing.

Xue Shu was what he was—vicious and unrelenting. On the surface, he seemed composed and loyal. Inside, he was a wolf, his blood wild and possessive. Anything he claimed as his was guarded ferociously, brooking no challenge.

In their last life, any assassin who dared target Yin Chengyu paid dearly. Xue Shu had scoured the entire empire—capital to border provinces—to drag them out, skin them alive, and stuff their corpses as a warning.

That was Xue Shu: brutal and obsessive. Death didn't change him, and apparently, neither did time.

Some dogs never grow out of their bite.

Yin Chengyu cursed inwardly but let the matter drop.

Xue Shu, however, wasn't finished. His brows were knit tight as he muttered, "Wan Youliang's this brazen. The trip to Tianjin may not go smoothly."

"No matter how tough the opposition, I'll hammer my way through." Yin Chengyu's smirk was sharp, and he leaned back into his chair with a casual air.

He'd tackled salt corruption before—albeit later in his previous life, after years of house arrest. Back then, he'd needed a political win to restore his influence. The treasury was empty, war loomed on the border, and the bloated salt industry had been a natural target.

He'd torn through the corruption then, and he wasn't about to falter now.

Tomorrow's trouble could wait. Yin Chengyu rose, brushing the thoughts aside, and sprawled on the chaise longue. With a lazy wave, he called to Xue Shu. "Come here. Rub my legs."

Xue Shu hesitated briefly but obeyed, kicking off his boots before climbing onto the couch. He lifted Yin Chengyu's legs onto his lap and began massaging them with careful pressure.

A low, satisfied sigh escaped Yin's lips. He cracked an eye open and looked at Xue Shu, a teasing grin on his face. "I'm putting you to work. Got a problem with that?"

The feel of lean muscle and smooth skin under his fingers almost made Xue Shu falter, but he hid it well, his eyes lowered. "Serving Your Highness is my greatest honor."

Yin Chengyu chuckled, clearly pleased. "Flatterer."

Xue Shu didn't respond, his hands steady as he worked. Whatever roiled beneath his calm surface stayed firmly out of sight.

———TN:

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