Chapter 98.

Yin Chengyu never expected Xue Shu to show up.

When he departed on the sixth day of the first lunar month, he spent eighteen grueling days traveling to Wuchang. Upon arrival, he plunged headfirst into disaster relief, rushing tirelessly for several more days. Now, it was already February.

By the look of things, Xue Shu must have arrived only a few days after him—almost as if Yin Chengyu’s departure was the trigger for Xue Shu to set out. Yet, even so, nearly a month had passed since they last saw each other.

Their gazes collided midair, locking in a silent exchange that lingered far longer than it should.

Yin Chengyu’s expression remained calm, while Xue Shu’s eyes betrayed a tempest of emotions—so fierce, so searing, that few could meet them head-on.

Before the gathered officials, Xue Shu strode forward. The frost that clung to him seemed to carry the chill of a thousand winters. Yet, his movements were restrained, his demeanor respectful as he bowed. “Xue Shu greets His Highness, the Crown Prince.”

Yin Chengyu’s sharp gaze swept over him, noting the frost encrusting Xue Shu’s hair. The man had clearly been on the road for some time. Something in Yin Chengyu’s chest tightened unexpectedly, but he masked it well, pulling his attention away.

He didn’t bother with pleasantries. Instead, his voice cut straight to the point. “How many men have you brought?”

“One hundred or so—not many, but all are skilled agents from the Eastern Bureau,” Xue Shu replied coolly.

In truth, these men weren’t here just for disaster relief. They were also tasked with tracking down an elusive "Immortal." Yin Chengyu knew full well the kind of grip Xue Shu had over the Eastern Bureau. For him to offer this support meant he was certain of its value. Without hesitation, Yin Chengyu accepted. He gestured for someone to bring a chair, allowing Xue Shu to sit, then returned his focus to the officials.

The pressing matter at hand was the ongoing crisis. The snowfall had abated in February, but the relentless cold had turned it all into ice. Roads were treacherous, and the frozen landscape hindered the transport of relief supplies.

“The Huguang garrison is already deployed for snow removal, but the ice is thick, the area vast. It’s slow work,” an official explained.

Huguang, located in the heart of the empire, wasn’t a border region and lacked substantial military presence. The troops available were stretched thin, and their efforts were like a drop in the ocean.

“Relying solely on the military will take too long. We must mobilize the people to clear the snow,” Yin Chengyu declared firmly.

A local magistrate hesitated, then sighed. “But, Your Highness, in this bitter cold, with no food or clothing, how can we expect the people to come out?”

Snow disasters were merciless. The common folk, already impoverished, huddled indoors, hoping to outlast the winter. But the government couldn’t afford to wait. If nothing was done by March, the death toll from starvation and freezing would be catastrophic.

“It all comes down to a lack of grain,” someone muttered.

Indeed, in such times, money was useless. Food prices in Huguang had skyrocketed, along with essentials like coal and winter clothing. Even offering paid labor wasn’t practical. The wages earned wouldn’t even cover a meal’s worth of rice.

The people weren’t fools. If stepping out meant starving and freezing, they’d rather stay indoors and endure.

Yin Chengyu’s brow furrowed deeply. He needed a solution.

Grain was the key. But as Prefect Yu had reported, the Zhou family—a dominant force in the local grain trade—was too careful to leave any exploitable weakness. Investigating them would take time.

Yet, the Zhou family wasn’t the only player in the Sanjiang Merchant Guild. These merchants currently aligned with the Zhou family because of shared interests. If their interests clashed, loyalty would crumble.

Yin Chengyu’s eyes sharpened. Targeting the other merchants first, finding leverage, and forcing them to hand over their grain could alleviate the immediate crisis.

His decision made, he turned to Prefect Yu. “In Jiang Zheng’s name, issue invitations to the leading members of the Sanjiang Merchant Guild. Have them meet in three days.”

Prefect Yu wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was obedient. Without questioning the plan, he nodded and set off to handle the arrangements.

As the other officials excused themselves, only Xue Shu remained.

Yin Chengyu fixed him with an intense stare and spoke slowly, his voice low and commanding. “Within three days, investigate the leading members of the Sanjiang Merchant Guild. Find their weaknesses. Can you do it?”

Though his tone carried the lilt of a question, his expression betrayed no hint of worry.

Xue Shu, steady as ever, didn’t disappoint that confidence. He simply said, "Yes."

Then he added, with an edge: “Your Highness doesn’t ask why I’m here?”

Yin Chengyu met his gaze, calm and unwavering. After a moment’s pause, his lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. Those cool, phoenix-like eyes brimmed with absolute certainty. "What’s there to ask? Either way, it’s all for me."

Even if he had asked, no matter how poetic or convincing the answer might’ve been, it would still just be an excuse.

Yin Chengyu's effortless directness caught Xue Shu off guard, stealing his breath for a split second. His heart thundered in his chest, desire surging—dangerously uncontrollable.

If anyone in this world truly knew him, it was Yin Chengyu.

He saw through Xue Shu’s greed, anger, obsession. He understood his love, hatred, and grievances.

Every flicker of emotion in Xue Shu's heart was tethered to him.

Their gazes locked, heat sparking like a wildfire. The burn traveled from the depths of Xue Shu’s eyes straight to Yin Chengyu’s chest, scorching enough to make him reflexively glance away.

This man was simply...

But Yin Chengyu wasn’t one to retreat. His eyes snapped back, sharp and defiant, holding Xue Shu’s stare. "Do your job. Handle the disaster relief first."

Xue Shu studied him, his lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile as he finally murmured, “Alright.”

*

Zhou Zhiling was a cautious man, making it nearly impossible to catch him slipping—at least not right away. But in the sprawling ranks of the Sanjiang Merchants Guild, with its hundreds of members across various industries, there were always cracks to exploit.

Xue Shu gave simple orders: focus on the top brass, the heavyweights with real sway in the guild. His men screened the dozen most influential merchants, and it didn’t take long to uncover their weak points.

By the day Yin Chengyu had set, Xue Shu handed over a thin stack of papers.

Each page detailed the personal profiles of these elite merchants—along with their darkest, best-buried secrets.

Because let’s be honest: no one’s spotless. And these tycoons, entrenched in the lucrative business circuits of Huguang for years, were far from saints.

Finding dirt on them? Easy.

If Xue Shu had more time, the pile wouldn’t have been so slim.

Yin Chengyu skimmed through the pages, his sharp gaze barely lingering on each entry before he passed the stack back. “You’re coming with me,” he ordered curtly.

The meeting place was a discreet estate beneath the administration office.

Ten men had been summoned. Besides the guild head, Zhou Zhiling, the others were all major players: leaders in grain, textiles, coal, river transport—pillars of their respective industries.

When the group assembled in the main hall, servants brought tea and withdrew, leaving the merchants alone.

“What’s this? Not even a brazier in here? Are they trying to freeze us as a show of power?” one muttered.

“That Jiang Zheng is persistent, even after we humiliated him twice.”

“First he refuses to grease the wheels, and now he expects us to help him out? What a joke!”

Their grumbles echoed until someone noticed Zhou Zhiling’s furrowed brow and silence. “What’s the matter, Guild Head? Jiang Zheng’s called us before. What’s got you so tense?”

Seated in the first chair to the left, Zhou Zhiling lifted his gaze and swept it across the room. He didn’t reply.

These men, out of the loop as they were, had no idea the Crown Prince was currently in Wuchang. And for two solid hours, they’d been kept waiting without Jiang Zheng making an appearance—an unusual move for the governor, who wasn’t known for delays.

Zhou Zhiling suspected this wasn’t Jiang Zheng’s summons at all. It had to be the crown prince’s.

His suspicions were confirmed moments later when a booming voice announced, “Everyone’s here. His Highness, the Crown Prince, may enter.”

The Crown Prince?!

The room froze in stunned silence before the merchants scrambled to their feet, their gazes darting to the doorway. They saw Jiang Zheng and Prefect Yu flanking a regal figure dressed in a rich purple robe and gold coronet, his aura unmistakably imperial.

As the realization of who this was settled in, anxiety rippled through the group.

The Crown Prince, meeting them?

Why?

Eyes exchanged uncertain glances, but Zhou Zhiling, quick on the uptake, was already moving forward to greet the prince. The others followed suit, hesitant but compliant.

They had no problem snubbing Jiang Zheng—a newcomer without roots in Huguang, no match for their deep-seated power. The Sanjiang Guild was united, a force even a governor had to respect.

But the Crown Prince? That was a different story. He wasn’t just an official—he was the heir to the throne.

Bowing low, the merchants welcomed Yin Chengyu inside.

“There’s no need to panic,” the prince said, his voice measured but commanding. “I am here by imperial decree to assess the disaster conditions. It so happens that Governor Jiang invited several of you today to discuss grain procurement, and I admire your loyalty and patriotism. So, I decided to join in and take a look myself.”

Yin Chengyu took the seat of honor with an easy, charming smile, exuding an approachable and disarming demeanor.

But the word "buying grain" slipping repeatedly from his mouth sent a jolt through the gathered merchants. The invitation sent by Jiang Zheng didn’t mention anything about buying grain. Instinctively, they glanced at Zhou Zhilin.

Zhou Zhilin, however, was no stranger to storms. He remained composed, cupping his hands in a polite gesture. "Your Highness, you overpraise us. It’s merely our duty to assist. With Your Highness and Master Jiang tirelessly working for the people, we, too, must contribute whatever we can."

His tone shifted subtly, and he sighed dramatically. "But these times are harsh. The snow disaster has cut off both land and water routes. The warehouses have been running on reserves for ages. Big merchants like us still have some stock left, but smaller ones ran out ages ago, barely managing to survive. Within the guild, we’ve been rationing and redistributing goods just to scrape by. Everyone’s praying this disaster ends soon."

That was a well-disguised plea of poverty.

Yin Chengyu didn’t respond. Instead, he cast a brief glance at Jiang Zheng.

Jiang Zheng, catching the silent cue, sighed heavily. "Who wouldn’t wish for the disaster to end? But reality is harsh. The granaries are empty, and grain from neighboring regions can’t arrive fast enough to meet urgent needs..."

He let the words hang heavy, punctuated by a long, sorrowful exhale.

The merchants knew better than to squirm under the Crown Prince’s gaze. Zhou Zhilin straightened up, wearing a mask of righteous resolve. "We understand the officials’ plight, Master Jiang. You toil for the people; how could we shirk responsibility? This isn’t the time to haggle over trade. I happen to have 500 shi of old grain left in my warehouse, originally saved for emergencies. If the disaster relief needs it, I’ll donate it all. Let more people survive this winter."

Seeing him take the lead, the others quickly followed suit, chiming in one by one:

"This one donates 2,000 cotton garments."

"I can offer 50 shi of charcoal for heating."

Jiang Zheng had approached the merchant guild twice before, hoping to negotiate for grain, only to be brushed off with excuses. This time, the Crown Prince's presence forced them to cough up a bit more generosity—but it was still a facade.

These merchants wailed about empty warehouses and exhausted supplies, yet everyone knew their storage was overflowing. They were hoarding, waiting for prices to skyrocket so they could rake in obscene profits.

Yin Chengyu’s eyes darkened, though his smile remained gentle and unyielding.

"Such generosity humbles me," he said softly. "But I can’t let your goodwill go unrewarded." His gaze shifted to Xue Shu, who stood ready at his side. "Distribute the contracts I drafted earlier. Let the esteemed gentlemen take a look."

Turning back to the merchants, he added with deliberate calm, "Take your time. Review the terms carefully. If anything seems amiss, feel free to point it out."

Xue Shu stepped forward with a neat stack of documents, handing them out one by one.

The merchants exchanged uneasy glances, wondering why a voluntary donation required a contract. But as their eyes skimmed the thin sheets in their hands, their faces turned pale in unison.

———Author’s Note: Big Dog: There’s no dirt I can’t dig up. Big Dog: I’d be a top-tier tabloid reporter. Hail paparazzi!