Chapter 99.

Several of the less composed ones, after reading what was written on the paper, were already showing uncertain, flustered expressions, their foreheads beading with fine sweat.

“Oh my, are the esteemed heads of the house feeling a bit warm? What’s with all the sweating?” Xue Shu’s sharp eyes glinted coldly as he deliberately pinched his voice into a shrill, drawn-out mockery, adding an eerie edge to his words. “Winter supplies are scarce, and His Highness, ever so benevolent, is reluctant to burn too much charcoal. We were worried about you all freezing, but it seems that concern was a bit overblown, wasn’t it?”

His tone dripped with sarcasm, every word like a needle, especially when paired with the eunuch’s naturally high-pitched voice, making their ears ache from the sting of it.

Chief Wen, the head merchant sitting closest to him, was a mix of anger and fear. Fury burned in his chest, but as his eyes met Xue Shu’s, a chill ran down his spine.

Until now, they’d been too shaken by the Crown Prince’s sudden arrival to notice the attendant by his side. But upon closer inspection, dread started to creep in.

Merchants like them prided themselves on their sharp instincts, and the brief glance exchanged with Xue Shu was all Chief Wen needed to see that this man was no ordinary lackey.

Those dark, piercing eyes seemed to strip the soul bare, leaving nothing hidden, and the sheer weight of that gaze was enough to make Chief Wen break out in another cold sweat. Pale-faced, he hurriedly dabbed at his brow with a sleeve and forced out a hollow response, “His Highness truly is merciful.”

Zhou Zhilin, sitting diagonally opposite, noticed the shift immediately. Chief Wen wasn’t the only one. The other major merchants across the table all looked similarly shaken, as if someone had pressed their sore spots just hard enough to reveal their guilt.

And yet, the big eunuch hadn’t done much—just handed over some papers.

Zhou Zhiling glanced at the contract in his hands. There wasn’t anything special about it, just some hollow promises about donating a certain amount to have their names inscribed on some monument of merit.

Utter fluff.

What are they so afraid of? Zhou Zhiling frowned, pushing down his curiosity as he scanned the room.

At that moment, Yin Chengyu, seated at the head of the table, finally seemed satisfied with the display of shifting, uneasy expressions. His face maintained its usual gentle and magnanimous smile as he spoke, “You’ve all read the contract. Feel free to take it back and study it further. If you have any questions, you may visit the Provincial Administration Office by noon tomorrow to seek clarification from Governor Jiang.”

Standing, he slowly swept his gaze across the room. His lips curved upward into a smile that carried the same unsettling undertone as Xue Shu’s voice, his tone eerily light. “...After that, there will be no further opportunities.”

Though he spoke politely, the threat beneath his words was as clear as day.

Only after the Crown Prince and his entourage left did Chief Wen angrily slam his fist onto the table—but even then, not a single curse escaped his lips, too afraid to risk offending the Crown Prince.

The other eight merchants mirrored his frustration, their expressions a blend of anger and helplessness.

Zhou Zhiling had been quietly observing the scene, sensing that something was off. “What did the Crown Prince show you all?”

From his observations, he was almost certain that the paper in his hand differed from what the others had received.

Another merchant, Chief Zhu, known for his acerbic nature, immediately noticed Zhou Zhiling’s unusual calmness. Clutching his crumpled paper tightly in his sleeve, Chief Zhu had already suspected that Zhou Zhiling was somehow exempt from the trap the Crown Prince had set.

Zhou Zhiling always played his cards close to the chest, maintaining a façade of composure. If he wasn’t panicked, it likely meant the Crown Prince didn’t have dirt on him.

Realizing this, Chief Zhu’s resentment bubbled up. The entire scheme of hoarding goods to drive up prices had been Zhou Zhiling’s idea. The rest of them had merely gone along with it. Now, when the trap was sprung, they were the ones caught, while Zhou Zhiling appeared untouchable. It was infuriating.

“Chief Zhou, what’s with the questions? Are you implying your paper’s different from ours?” Chief Zhu’s voice cut sharp and cold, deliberately loud enough to draw attention.

At once, eight pairs of eyes turned to Zhou Zhiling, their expressions laced with suspicion.

Outsiders might think the Jiangnan Chamber of Commerce was a united front, but the truth was far from it. Each of the ten merchant heads had their own agendas and rivalries. Zhou Zhiling’s leadership was respected only because of his connections to the influential Shao family in the capital.

Zhou Zhiling had powerful connections in the bureaucracy, and using his family’s influence often made things easier. People were happy to do him favors, but this time, they realized they'd been dragged into a trap. Zhou Zhiling, meanwhile, stayed squeaky clean, not even a speck of dirt on him. That didn’t sit well with the others. Their eyes turned sharp, tinged with suspicion as they looked at Zhou Zhiling.

The "contract" handed out by the Crown Prince's men? Yeah, it wasn’t a contract at all. Just a few thin sheets of paper, listing their darkest, most shameful secrets. The kind of stuff they thought they'd buried deep—only to find out the Crown Prince had unearthed it all and was now using it as a bargaining chip.

At first, they thought maybe one of their own had been bought off. But now, as they stared at Zhou Zhiling, a bitter suspicion crept in.

Could it be him?

Had Zhou Zhiling been scared into selling them out?

Zhou Zhiling wasn’t an idiot. The moment he saw their faces, he knew what they were thinking. He swallowed his anger and said, “Come on now. You’ve been in the game long enough to know better than to fall for someone else’s divide-and-conquer trick. If you’ve got a problem, put it out in the open and we’ll deal with it. Don’t forget—Sanjiang Chamber of Commerce stands together, or we fall apart.”

Chief Zhu, the head honcho with a knack for petty jabs, gave a cold laugh. His voice oozed sarcasm as he said, “Sure, we’re all in this together—when we win, we all win; when we lose, we all lose. But let’s be real, brother Zhou. You’ve got a mountain to lean on, while the rest of us are just mud-covered peasants. It’s not the same, is it?”

Chief Zhu never got along with Zhou Zhiling. They’d kept it civil for the sake of business, but now that the game was up, Chief Zhu dropped the pretense. His words were sharp, his tone cutting.

Zhou Zhiling, knowing there was no point in arguing, turned to Chief Xiang, the steady one in the group. “The Crown Prince didn’t come here to make friends. If we start tearing each other apart now, we’re just playing right into his hands.”

But this time, even Chief Xiang shook his head. Clutching that damning piece of paper like it was his lifeline, he let out a heavy sigh. “You can’t fight the government. You just can’t.”

If it were just Jiang Zheng, they might’ve stood a chance together.

But the Crown Prince? He wasn’t the type you wanted to cross.

He’d barely been in town and had already zeroed in on their vulnerabilities, turning them into weapons to pit them against each other. The worst part? They knew it was a trap but were caught by the throat and had no choice but to step right in.

“What’s the point of arguing now? Let’s cut the crap. I’ll say it straight—I can’t let what’s on this paper get out,” Chief Wen said coldly. Without another word, he ripped the paper to shreds, rolled it into a ball, and shoved it into his mouth. He washed it down with tea, glaring at the others’ shocked faces, then slammed the teacup onto the table and stormed out.

“What’s written on that paper stays in my gut. Tomorrow, I’ll bring the ledgers.”

With Chief Wen gone, the rest hesitated before following suit, leaving one by one. Zhou Zhiling was the last to leave, watching their retreating backs with a sneer before spitting out a single word: “Cowards.”

When he got back home, still simmering with frustration, he called for his steward. “Anyone sniffing around about the Zhou family lately?”

The steward shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Zhou Zhiling still wasn’t convinced. He went over his past dealings, making sure he hadn’t left any loose ends. Only when he was certain everything was airtight did he relax, if only slightly. “Has the letter from the north arrived?”

The steward handed him a wax-sealed envelope. Zhou Zhiling examined the seal carefully before dismissing the man and opening the letter in private.

By the time he’d finished reading, he was pacing his study, his expression shifting from uncertainty to firm resolve. Grabbing his brush, he penned a reply, then summoned his most trusted man. “Take this to Phoenix Mountain immediately. Don’t waste a second.”

*

Stepping out of the courtyard, Yin Chengyu set off to find He Shan.

This expedition was under He Shan’s command, with Ying Hongxue accompanying him as well. Since Yin Chengyu hadn’t assigned tasks for the moment, they joined the city troops and camp soldiers to clear the snow piling up in the streets or assist citizens in repairing their collapsed houses.

When Yin Chengyu arrived, He Shan was busy shoving Ying Hongxue back inside a house. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing. If I’m thirsty, I’ll grab a drink myself. If you catch a chill, your legs will hurt again.”

He Shan, drenched in sweat from shoveling snow, was unbothered by the cold. His thin shirt clung to his muscled frame, the hard lines of his body visible. Amid the soldiers’ laughter, he pressed Ying Hongxue’s slender shoulders, trying to push her back inside.

Ying Hongxue, wrapped tightly in thick cotton clothes, hid her graceful figure beneath layers, but her stunningly beautiful face remained exposed. Even with furrowed brows and a flash of anger, her beauty only became more striking.

“Finish the ginger tea first, and then I’ll go in.”

He Shan didn’t dare cross her. Ignoring the scalding heat, he drained the large bowl of ginger tea in one gulp, handed her the empty bowl, and flashed a sheepish grin.

Satisfied, Ying Hongxue relaxed her expression. Just as she turned to go inside, she spotted Yin Chengyu and his group.

“Your Highness.” Ying Hongxue bowed, then nodded politely to Xue Shu, who stood beside him.

The rest quickly followed her lead and saluted.

Yin Chengyu waved them off casually. Turning to Ying Hongxue, he said, “I’ve already negotiated with the Sanjiang Merchant Guild. The guild’s main leaders have generously agreed to make donations. However, I can’t trust anyone else to oversee this. I’ll need you, Miss Ying, to coordinate directly with the guild and ensure the donated supplies are delivered swiftly to aid the victims.”

Ying Hongxue agreed without hesitation. She had a knack for dealing with cunning merchants, ensuring they wouldn’t stir up trouble.

Yin Chengyu then turned to He Shan to ask about the progress of snow removal in the city.

“The main roads have been cleared for the most part. Next, we’ll focus on repairing the houses damaged by the snowstorm,” He Shan reported.

The pace was acceptable. Yin Chengyu commended their hard work before heading back to the administrative office to handle other matters. Xue Shu stayed half a step behind, quietly escorting him.

As they passed through a narrow alley, the wind whipped up snowflakes, pelting them in the face. Xue Shu stepped forward, shielding Yin Chengyu from the harsh chill.

Yin Chengyu stifled a few coughs, quickening his pace.

Hearing the coughs, Xue Shu frowned deeply. He reached out to check the temperature of Yin Chengyu’s hand hidden in his sleeve. “You’re coughing. Did you catch a cold?”

The icy touch of Yin Chengyu’s hand deepened Xue Shu’s concern. “We should add more braziers and prepare some herbal soup to ward off the chill.”

As they walked, their arms brushed, and their sleeves overlapped, discreetly hiding their clasped hands.

Xue Shu’s palm was warm, a stark contrast to Yin Chengyu’s icy fingers. Though hesitant, Yin Chengyu curled his hand slightly, ultimately leaving it where it was. He responded with a faint “Mm.”

Back at the office, Xue Shu promptly ordered two more braziers for the study and oversaw the preparation of the herbal soup. He watched as Yin Chengyu drank every drop without complaint, unwilling to risk illness disrupting his duties.

Yin Chengyu then resumed reviewing official documents sent from various prefectures. By the time he finished approving them, night had fallen.

The night air was even colder than during the day, the biting wind slicing across the face like a blade.

Returning to his quarters, Yin Chengyu finally felt some relief from the bone-chilling cold. The room wasn’t much warmer, though; with supplies running low, he refused to indulge excessively, leaving only two braziers by the bed.

The cold made bathing inconvenient. After a quick wipe down, Yin Chengyu changed into fresh inner clothes and slipped under the covers, where a warming stone had been placed to ward off the chill.

Snuggled into the blankets, his half-hidden face peeked out, gaze fixed intently on Xue Shu.

He didn’t say a word, but Xue Shu understood the silent command.

After washing with the remaining warm water, Xue Shu lifted the quilt and climbed onto the bed. Facing Yin Chengyu, he called out softly, “Your Highness.”

Yin Chengyu didn’t respond. Instead, he shuffled closer, slipping his icy hands under Xue Shu’s inner clothes and pressing his chilled feet against Xue Shu’s legs. Their bodies melded together, skin to skin, as warmth seeped through.

Finally comfortable, Yin Chengyu let out a satisfied sigh. “Sleep.”

The faint scent of warmed plum blossoms lingered between them. Watching Yin Chengyu’s dark hair spill across the pillow, Xue Shu swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Pulling him closer into his embrace, he murmured an obedient, “Yes, Your Highness.”