Chapter 100.

In the dead of night, Xue Shu was jolted awake by the relentless sound of coughing, sharp and piercing through the quiet. He looked down to see Yin Chengyu still unconscious, his alabaster-like face flushed with fever, his frail body curling in on itself with every wracking cough.

Reaching out, Xue Shu pressed his hand to Yin Chengyu's forehead and was met with a searing heat.

Fever. High, dangerous.

Alarm tightened his chest.

He called out several times, but Yin Chengyu didn’t stir. Wasting no time, Xue Shu threw on his robes, commanding someone to fetch a doctor immediately.

Traveling without the imperial physicians meant relying on locals, and the Eastern Bureau agents wasted no time dragging a doctor out of bed and rushing him to their quarters.

By the time the doctor arrived, Yin Chengyu was delirious, lost to the fever's grip. Xue Shu, frantic and sharp-eyed, stood guard by his side. As soon as the doctor appeared, supported by the Bureau agents, Xue Shu stormed forward, nearly dragging the older man into the room.

The doctor, older and not particularly spry, staggered under Xue Shu’s rough grip and nearly collided with the bed. Though irritation flickered across his face, the sight of Xue Shu’s thunderous expression quickly extinguished any protest. With trembling hands, he began taking Yin Chengyu’s pulse.

After a tense silence, the doctor’s furrowed brow relaxed. His tone softened slightly as he explained, “Excessive worry has weakened him, allowing wind-cold to invade. The illness came on quickly, but he’s fortunate to have a strong constitution. A prescription of medicine to reduce the fever, coupled with rest, will set him right in a few days.”

Xue Shu’s sharp gaze never wavered. “No serious harm, you’re sure?”

The doctor suppressed his irritation under Xue Shu’s skeptical stare. “If you don’t trust me, feel free to consult someone else,” he snapped, his patience wearing thin. He didn’t know who Yin Chengyu was, but Xue Shu’s presence alone screamed power—enough to grind his nerves raw.

Xue Shu ignored the bite in his tone, handing the prescription to a waiting agent. “Fetch the medicine immediately. Prepare a room for the doctor to stay. He’ll remain here until my master recovers. His compensation will be generous.”

Though his voice carried a semblance of politeness, the chill beneath his words left the doctor cold.

The doctor, unwilling to stir up an argument, chose to follow the bureau officials to handle the matter directly and put things to rest.

The medicine arrived swiftly. Xue Shu personally lit the stove, tending to the brewing concoction with practiced ease. The acrid scent of boiling herbs seeped into the courtyard, drawing the attention of nearby officials, as well as He Shan and Ying Hongxue.

While curious officials were quickly dismissed with curt explanations of a minor cold, He Shan and Ying Hongxue lingered, prying for details. Assured it wasn’t serious, they left—though not without He Shan casting a lingering look back at Xue Shu.

Crouched before the fire, the flames illuminated Xue Shu’s face, sharpening his features, darkening his eyes with an unreadable intensity.

Something about him felt...off.

“Don’t you think Xue Shu’s acting strange?” He Shan muttered.

“Strange how?” Ying Hongxue glanced back, skeptical.

“I don’t know,” He Shan admitted, fumbling for words. “Just...the way he’s about the Crown Prince. It doesn’t feel normal.”

Ying Hongxue raised an eyebrow but dismissed him with a roll of her eyes. “You’re overthinking it. Go to bed—we’ve got work tomorrow.”

Still unsettled, He Shan followed her back reluctantly.

Inside, the herbal brew was ready. Xue Shu poured it into a porcelain bowl, cooling it slightly before returning to Yin Chengyu’s bedside.

The servants wouldn’t dare step inside without his explicit command. Instead, they had no choice but to shut the door tight and stand watch at the entrance, waiting, tense and obedient, for his next order.

The fevered man lay drenched in sweat, his pale skin glistening under the faint lamplight.

Setting the bowl aside, Xue Shu fetched warm water, his hands careful and steady as he wiped away the sweat clinging to Yin Chengyu’s fragile frame. The unconscious man lay quiet, his vulnerability an agonizing echo of a memory that stabbed into Xue Shu’s chest.

Xue Shu locked his gaze on the man’s face, a jolt of heat surging through his chest, making his pulse quicken.

This wasn’t the first time.

In another life, Yin Chengyu had fallen ill, just like this. Weak, delicate, a glass doll slipping from warmth to cold. Xue Shu had held him then, too, desperate to chase the ice from his lifeless body, but all he’d found was the crushing weight of loss.

The memory surged, raw and brutal, unraveling Xue Shu’s carefully maintained composure.

His hand faltered, dropping the cloth into the basin with a splash as his breath hitched. He clutched the bed frame, his body trembling under the weight of a fear he couldn’t shake.

“It’s just a cold,” he muttered to himself, repeating the doctor’s words like a prayer. “He’ll be fine. This time...he’s stronger.”

The dread that gnawed at his chest loosened its grip, and Xue Shu steadied his hands. Carefully, he lifted Yin Chengyu, supporting his limp body as he fed him the bitter medicine, coaxing it past pale, unresponsive lips.

When the bowl was emptied, Xue Shu set it aside and stoked the brazier, filling the room with warmth. Only then did he climb into the bed, pulling Yin Chengyu into his arms as though shielding him from every shadow, every cold memory that lingered beyond the flickering light.

*

The old doctor knew his craft. By the next morning, Yin Chengyu's fever had broken, and he finally woke up.

Last night, he’d been lost in a haze of heat and delirium, barely aware he was ill. His mind had been heavy and muddled, keeping him locked in that suffocating darkness.

But now, as his eyes opened, the crushing weakness had faded. His body still felt light, almost frail, and his throat was painfully parched, but it was better than before.

With a weak but determined motion, he shifted, pulling away from Xue Shu's arm, trying to sit up.

The moment he moved, Xue Shu caught on that he was awake. Without missing a beat, Xue Shu pushed him back down, pinning him firmly in place. His tone left no room for argument. "What does Your Highness need?"

"I'm thirsty," Yin Chengyu rasped. His voice was wrecked, low and rough, almost unrecognizable.

Xue Shu slipped off the bed and returned moments later with a cup of warm water. Holding it to his lips, he helped him drink. The soothing liquid eased the raw dryness in Yin Chengyu’s throat just enough for him to croak out, "What time is it?"

"Three-quarters past the hour of Si."

———TN: It's about around 9:45 AM ———

"Si hour?!" Yin Chengyu's mind snapped into motion. He remembered the deadline he’d set with the merchants from the Sanjiang Chamber of Commerce—they were due to meet at noon. His voice quickened, hoarse and strained as he forced himself upright. "Prepare my washbasin and clothes. I need to be at the yamen. If all goes as planned, the disaster relief goods will finally be secured."

The words tumbled out in a hurried rush, his tone filled with unyielding authority. But before he could act further, Xue Shu's composure shattered.

Without warning, Xue Shu grabbed his wrist, forcing him back down onto the bed. His body hovered over him, dangerously close, his hands caging Yin Chengyu in. His voice, low and taut with suppressed rage, cut through the space between them.

"Do you care so little about your life?" Xue Shu's jaw clenched, his words practically spat out, each syllable dripping with venom. "Do you want me to watch you die again, Your Highness? Is that what you want?!"

His bloodshot eyes glared down, the pain and fury in them searing, inescapable. Every word was like a blade carving into flesh, raw and unrelenting.

Yin Chengyu froze.

Staring at him in stunned silence, he hadn't expected to see such anguish etched so deeply into Xue Shu's features. The vulnerability, the fear—it was a sharp blow, catching him off guard.

He hadn’t thought his death would have wounded Xue Shu so deeply. Guilt twisted sharply in his chest. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing toward Xue Shu’s reddened eyes.

But before he could touch him, Xue Shu bit down hard on his wrist.

The bite was merciless, teeth digging into his skin with enough force to nearly break it. Pain shot through his arm, sharp and hot.

Yin Chengyu’s fingers trembled for a moment, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t cry out, didn’t flinch. He simply stared back at Xue Shu, quiet and unyielding.

"If it happens again…" Xue Shu released him, his voice low and savage. "I swear, I will no longer fight for this empire of yours. I won’t give another damn about your so-called legacy."

He growled the words, his sharp tone laced with cold, bitter determination. His pain was a roaring storm barely held in check.

Yin Chengyu’s heart clenched. He’d always known Xue Shu carried his burdens from the past, but he hadn’t realized just how deep they ran. Now, seeing that fierce, fragile anger, the weight of it struck him harder than he wanted to admit, squeezing his heart into a tight knot that throbbed with a slow, aching burn.

Taking a shaky breath, he began softly, “When I saved you back then, it wasn’t just for—” Not just for the empire. Not just for duty. But before he could finish, Xue Shu pressed his hand firmly over his lips, cutting him off.

He’d regained his composure, his calm mask snapping back into place. He tugged the blanket higher, tucking it around Yin Chengyu with careful precision. "Focus on recovering. The matter with the merchants—I’ll handle it. Don’t concern yourself."

Yin Chengyu sighed, his gaze following Xue Shu as he moved with deliberate care. He relented with a quiet nod, allowing the tension to ease for now.

Xue Shu left briefly, returning with a bowl of herbal medicine. He knelt by the bedside, personally feeding the bitter concoction to Yin Chengyu.

The taste was wretched, dragging a grimace from Yin Chengyu, but he endured it. Seeing Xue Shu’s hard, dangerous gaze and the unspoken warning in his eyes, he finally sighed again. His hand lifted, gesturing for Xue Shu to lean closer.

Obliging, Xue Shu bent down, his face mere inches away.

And then Yin Chengyu’s lips captured his.

The kiss wasn't rushed, but it wasn't hesitant either. It was a slow burn, a deliberate act of possession, tainted with the lingering, medicinal tang on Yin Chengyu’s breath. Xue Shu stiffened for a split second, his dark, burning eyes widening, locking onto Yin Chengyu’s. He was caught, ensnared, but he sure as hell wasn't backing down.

Then, Yin Chengyu’s tongue slipped past his lips, a sly, seductive invasion. It was a tease, a dare, a demand for more. He was playing with fire, and Xue Shu was about to get burned.

It didn't take much. Xue Shu's carefully constructed control shattered like glass. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he seized control, turning the kiss into something savage, something ravenous.

It wasn't just a kiss anymore; it was a conquest. Teeth clashed, biting down hard, drawing blood. Every ounce of his anger, his pain, his raw, unadulterated torment poured into that brutal kiss.

He wanted Yin Chengyu to feel it, to understand the depths of his suffering. It was a desperate, primal act, a way to brand him, to claim him.

When they finally broke apart, both were gasping for air, their breaths mingling in the charged air. Yin Chengyu’s hand, almost languidly, brushed against Xue Shu’s bloodied lips, smearing the crimson across his skin. His voice, roughened and husky, cut through the heavy silence. "Go. And when this is over," he purred, his eyes promising a world of sin, "we're going to finish what we started."

Xue Shu held his gaze for a long, charged moment before finally stepping away. Without another word, he turned and walked out.

*

The courtyard they now lived in was the three-section complex located behind the Provincial Administration Yamen.

Draped in a crimson robe adorned with intricate python embroidery, Xue Shu strode forward with his entourage in tow.

The sun had barely reached its zenith, yet all nine of the Sanjiang Chamber of Commerce’s major stakeholders—save for Zhou Zhiling—were already present.

They had been waiting for two full quarters of an hour, growing increasingly restless. They’d assumed, much like the day before, that the Crown Prince would make them wait endlessly. But to their surprise, as soon as noon struck, one of the Crown Prince’s personal eunuchs made his entrance.

With Zhou Zhiling absent, the most senior and steady among them, Chief Xiang, took charge.

Standing up, he greeted with a measured bow, “Eunuch Xue, we’ve all reached a decision.”

Xue Shu’s gaze swept across the group, and he lowered himself into the main seat with an air of calm indifference. His voice was smooth, yet cold as steel. “Then let’s hear your sincerity.”

Before anyone could respond, Chief Wen, another stakeholder, interjected with a question, his tone casual: “Will the Crown Prince not grace us with his presence today?”

Xue Shu’s expression didn’t so much as flicker, but his retort hit like a lash: “And just who do you think you are? What makes you worthy of the Crown Prince granting you multiple audiences?”

Chief Wen, who had intended his question as nothing more than a polite inquiry, was utterly blindsided. Though merely a merchant, his family’s wealth and influence made him a significant figure in the Huguang region. Never before had anyone dared to humiliate him so publicly. His face flushed purple with rage, and for a brief moment, he was ready to unleash a furious retort.

But then Xue Shu’s cold, predatory eyes bore into his, pinning him in place like a wolf eyeing its prey. Chief Wen’s chest tightened, and the words he’d prepared dissolved in his throat.

Xue Shu, entirely unmoved by their discomfort, leaned forward, his boots planted firmly apart, hands gripping his knees. His voice dropped into a menacing growl as he locked eyes with Chief Wen. “Why don’t we start with you? Let’s see what you have to say.”

———Author's Note: Big Bad Wolf Xue: The Crown Prince bullies me, so I bully others. The merchants: ???

———TN: "Cheers to the 100th chapter! Let’s make it rain with rates, votes and comments —throw them high!"