Chapter 91

The wind outside howled fiercely, the blizzard sweeping across the land, battering the doors with relentless force, as if some vengeful spirit were clawing at the entrance. The cold seeped through every crack, sending chills down their spines. The flames flickered wildly in the candle holders, casting erratic shadows that danced eerily on the walls, making the palace feel more like a haunted crypt than a royal hall.

Up on her main seat, the powerful Noble Consort Wen watched them with an air of superiority, her face splitting into cold, sinister shadows with every shift of the candlelight, as though she were a creature from the underworld.

The frail Consort Rong trembled beneath her gaze, her complexion drained of color, her eyes wide with panic.

The Empress had always been kind to her, offering support where she could. But now, as much as she feared Consort Wen, the real terror was in the thought that Consort Wen might expose her son, Yin Ciguang's secret.

She wasn’t afraid to die—hell, death had been a familiar companion. But to drag Yin Ciguang into that final oblivion with her was unthinkable. He’d suffered enough, had lived his life locked in a cage of lies, never knowing a moment’s peace.

Sometimes, she wondered if she had made the right choice back then.

Despair consumed her; her lips trembled as if begging for mercy, but she stopped herself before she could say the words. She wanted to beg Consort Wen for mercy, plead for Yin Ciguang’s life, but he beat her to it.

His voice was calm, distant, indifferent. "I’ll do it."

A chill ran through her as her eyes snapped to him, instinctively reaching out to stop him. But his hand gripped hers firmly, and for a moment, she felt the weight of his decision.

There was no turning back.

His words hit the air like cold steel. "The Empress is kind-hearted, allowing the consorts to forgo formal greetings. My mother only goes to see her every few days, and just yesterday, she visited the Kunning Palace. If she goes again now, it will be too obvious, and suspicion will fall on us."

"Thought you were a loyal dog, but you're no better than the rest," Wen sneered, eyeing him like a predator sizing up its prey. "Fine, I’ll give you three days. But don’t try anything clever. If that incense pouch isn’t with the Empress within three days, you know what happens."

Yin Ciguang coughed twice, his frailty showing. He accepted the pouch without hesitation. "If there’s nothing else, Your Highness, we’ll take our leave."

Consort Wen observed his sickly state with a strange satisfaction, then waved them off dismissively. "Go. I’ll be waiting for good news."

They left, the storm outside only growing worse. The day was swallowed by an unnatural darkness, as if the sun had already set, though it was still midday.

Yin Ciguang’s condition had worsened after the confrontation, and the cold air made him cough uncontrollably. His mother, heart aching, gently patted his back, fighting back tears.

"You can’t agree to her," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

She wasn’t foolish, and she knew the moment they gave in to Consort Wen’s threats, they’d be trapped forever, with no escape.

Yin Ciguang’s coughing fit didn’t stop. His face, already pale, now had an unhealthy flush. After a long moment, he finally managed to catch his breath. He tenderly placed his mother’s hood on her head, shielding her from the biting wind with his frail body as they made their way toward the Yongxi Palace.

His voice was calm, but there was an underlying promise in it. "Don’t worry, Mother. I know what I’m doing."

*

After leaving Quyang Pavilion, Yin Chengyu walked toward Ciqing Palace.

Xue Shu walked beside him, holding an umbrella, shielding him from the biting wind. The wind whipped his sleeves, sending them fluttering in the gusts. Amid the swirling snow, in the dimming light of the day, he stood out, his scarlet robe blazing like fire, piercing Yin Chengyu’s eyes.

He looked familiar, yet different.

Both of them had changed in this second life, and it was a change that Yin Chengyu found satisfying, fueling a deeper patience and indulgence. His tone softened, though the sharpness was still there: "Is there anything else you need to report?"

They reached the corner of the corridor, and with a subtle glance from Xue Shu, Cui Ci, who had followed them, immediately understood. He raised his hand, halting the palace guards from East Palace: “Our supervisor has something to report to His Highness privately. Please stay here.”

Xue Shu had served in Ciqing Palace before, and though the guards knew him, they wouldn’t dare leave the Prince alone. The head guard looked at Yin Chengyu for confirmation.

Cui Ci’s voice was firm, and Yin Chengyu, hearing it, gave a slight nod.

The guards stayed behind, and only Xue Shu and Yin Chengyu continued around the corner.

The corridor twisted, and from the guards’ position, only the dark red of Yin Chengyu’s robe was visible.

Yin Chengyu, trapped between Xue Shu and the wall, glanced up at him, his voice laced with a teasing edge: “Is this what you wanted to report, Commissioner Xue?”

Xue Shu closed the distance between them, staring at him intently, his emotions naked in his eyes: “It’s been days since Your Highness has summoned me.”

“You’re no longer an official of the East Palace.” Yin Chengyu’s eyes narrowed as his fingers trailed along Xue Shu's prominent throat: “You should recognize your place, Commissioner Xue, before you become the subject of rumors.”

“Not even for a moment has Your Highness thought of me these past days?” Xue Shu’s voice was low, sharp with bitterness, his gaze burning with unspoken longing. He spoke like he was spitting venom, yet his words were tinged with an undeniable desire: “For me, one day without seeing you is madness. I ache for you.”

The words were laced with yearning, yet from his mouth, they came out harsh, almost as if a curse.

Yin Chengyu said nothing, his sharp, mesmerizing eyes lifting slightly with a smile that suggested he was enjoying every moment: “You remind me of someone from the past.”

He met Xue Shu’s gaze without hesitation: “Someone you should know too.”

Xue Shu’s eyes flickered. After a brief pause, he asked, “Oh? Who do you mean, Your Highness?”

Still playing coy.

Yin Chengyu sneered softly, his hand pressing firmly against Xue Shu’s shoulder, pushing him back, his smile laced with something darker: “Guess.”

With that, he turned and swept away, his robes fluttering behind him, the air thick with unspoken tension.

Xue Shu watched him go, his tongue dragging over his teeth, a flash of frustration in his chest.

He knew exactly what Yin Chengyu had meant, and the feeling was mutual. There was an understanding between them, yet neither was willing to break the fragile barrier they’d built.

Stepping out into the snow, Xue Shu let the cold calm his restless mind.

The snowflakes stung his face, and for a moment, it brought him back to the freezing cold of the tomb, where memories were too bitter to recall. The past was a burden neither of them wanted to remember.

But why did Yin Chengyu keep testing him?

He didn’t want to admit it, nor did he dare. Everything now felt like a dream, like a fragile illusion. He feared that if they spoke of it aloud, the dream would shatter.

In his previous life, he had spent five years in torment, unable to sleep, unable to even dream of him.

He had willingly reined in all his desires, presenting only the version of himself that he thought Yin Chengyu would want, just to keep sinking deeper into this beautiful fantasy, hoping it would never end.

Xue Shu stood in the snow for a long time, the cold biting into his skin. Finally, with great care, he pulled the jade ring from around his neck and pressed it against his lips.

The chill of the jade, now devoid of any warmth, felt colder than the snow itself.

In his previous life, he had kissed the icy coffin repeatedly, and the cold had been just as piercing.

Now, his body burned with desire, like wild grass growing unchecked, and suddenly, Xue Shu found himself craving to hold Yin Chengyu, to feel his warmth, to make sure he was real.

But now things were different. He wasn't just any eunuch anymore—he was the head of the Imperial Household Department, the Head of the East Bureau. Gone were the days when he could slip in and out of Ciqing Palace without a second thought. Now, every move he made had to be carefully controlled. No more easy access, no more freedom like before.

Xue Shu carefully replaced the jade ring, his eyes fixated on the distant Ci Qing Palace. He had to wait a little longer. A little more time.

The wait was unbearable, dragging on endlessly.

The night dragged into the late hours, the wind and snow finally pausing. The palace guards, seeking warmth, retreated into corners. Xue Shu, now in black regular attire, seized the opportunity and slipped into the darkness towards Ci Qing Palace.

He navigated the familiar path, easily bypassing security and entered the Crown Prince's sleeping quarters. This winter, as a gesture of leadership, the Ci Qing Palace had forgo traditional heating, instead using copper furnaces in the corners. The fires crackled, glowing red embers flickering now and then.

Xue Shu took a moment to warm himself by the furnace, then, silently and deliberately, moved around the screen and approached the bed.

At this hour, Yin Chengyu was already asleep, his face buried in the covers to ward off the cold. The heat from his breath tinted his pale cheeks, softening the usual chill in his expression.

Xue Shu knelt by the bed, his eyes greedy, staring at him. He carefully tucked the covers down, leaning in to bury his face in Yin Chengyu's neck.

Yin Chengyu had no taste for luxury, but he adored incense. His clothes and bedding were always scented with Snow Ridge Plum, a fragrance so faint it seemed almost cold at first. But here, in this moment, it mingled with warmth, becoming an intoxicating sweetness.

Xue Shu closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

The fragrance of Snow Ridge Plum, mixed with the unique scent of Yin Chengyu, filled his chest, easing the emptiness inside. The restless craving within him quieted, replaced by an aching warmth.

He lifted his head, gazing at the sleeping figure. His eyes flashed with hunger and desire, but he suppressed them, leaving only an unquenched thirst.

Gently, he slipped his hand under the covers, finding Yin Chengyu's, and held it with a careful, restrained touch.

In the past, he never understood love, only force and conquest.

He thought possessing a deity, pulling them from their pedestal, was the ultimate fulfillment. But in truth, that was never what he truly sought. What he longed for was not to drag the divine into the mortal world with him but to make the divine bow down and see only him.

He understood this too late. By the time he realized it, the path had already led them too far apart, with no way to return.

Some things, once done, cannot be undone.

He was blessed with a second chance.

Xue Shu sat quietly by the foot of the bed, holding Yin Chengyu's hand, the warmth flowing between them, reassuring him.

Yin Chengyu stirred slightly in his sleep, sensing the familiar touch. He frowned and, half-awake, squinted his eyes to see the familiar figure. He wasn’t surprised.

“What are you doing sitting here in the middle of the night?” he murmured.

Xue Shu hadn’t expected him to wake, hesitating for a moment before answering, his voice rough: "I missed you, Your Highness."

Yin Chengyu furrowed his brows, clearly more awake now. “Had another nightmare? There are blankets in the wardrobe. Sleep on the couch.”

Xue Shu shook his head. “I just want to watch you.”

Yin Chengyu didn’t understand what madness was taking hold of him. He stared at Xue Shu for a while, then finally, without pulling his hand away, buried himself deeper in the covers. "Do as you please."

Xue Shu, with a soft, satisfied smile, settled in to stay.

———Author's Note: Big Dog: “Wait... You’re not inviting me to your bed, Your Highness? What, are you afraid I’ll bite?”

Your Highness: silent