Yin Wuzhi didn’t keep his word.
He had said that if Jiang Wu chose infamy, he could do as he pleased. But after Jiang Wu made his choice, he wasn’t let off the hook.
From afternoon until night, Yin Wuzhi forced him to sit at the desk and continue working on official documents.
Jiang Wu tried several times to throw down his pen but failed each time. Leaning against Yin Wuzhi’s chest, his lashes drooped as he stared at his trapped hand. “This must be exhausting for you.”
“So, you do know I’m tired.” Yin Wuzhi frowned, his voice low. “Why can’t you just write properly? Why do I have to hold your hand like you’re a child?”
“You could imitate my handwriting.”
“Why should I imitate your handwriting?”
“Then you could approve the documents yourself.”
This was, in fact, an opportunity Jiang Wu was offering.
To guide Yin Wuzhi onto a predetermined path, Jiang Wu wasn’t just humiliating him; he was also letting him see how easily he could be overthrown. If Yin Wuzhi learned to mimic the emperor’s handwriting, then, once he developed ambitions, he could easily turn Jiang Wu into a puppet and eliminate him without a trace.
Yin Wuzhi’s hand froze as a wave of clarity washed over him.
Before, he hadn’t understood why Jiang Wu humiliated him one moment and then taught him to govern the next, placing him in the imperial study to learn from the ministers.
Now, with what Empress Dowager Wen had revealed, he began to grasp Jiang Wu’s contradictory actions.
Jiang Wu humiliated him so he would hate him.
Jiang Wu gave him power because he feared that, after being forced to kill him, Yin Wuzhi wouldn’t be able to survive on his own.
Jiang Wu had selfish motives for forcing him into the palace, but behind those motives, he had planned everything for him.
Yin Wuzhi tightened his arm around Jiang Wu’s waist and said, “Stop fooling around and write.”
He wouldn’t kill him, nor would he accept the power and status Jiang Wu offered.
If Jiang Wu had internal struggles, Yin Wuzhi was willing to help him overcome them. He had misjudged him at first, assuming he had bad intentions, but the ministers who had worked with Jiang Wu for years, along with the two powerful women in the palace, couldn’t have misjudged him.
Jiang Wu could be a good emperor. He was just facing a rough patch. Yin Wuzhi needed to help him get through it.
First, he couldn’t allow Jiang Wu to continue down this path of decay.
Yin Wuzhi pressed his lips together and said, “Finish this, then you can sleep early tonight.”
At the mention of sleep, Jiang Wu looked at him. “Now.”
“Not now. You have to finish this first.”
Jiang Wu: “.”
Yin Wuzhi was a bad man.
Black mist swirled around Jiang Wu. His already dark eyes became even darker as he stared at Yin Wuzhi. “Kiss me, and I’ll write.”
Before, Yin Wuzhi had been forced to comply, but now that he knew Jiang Wu’s true intentions, he wouldn’t so easily fall under his control.
“No kiss.”
Yin Wuzhi was holding the emperor’s hand, supporting his waist. His hand reached from below to lift the emperor’s chin, forcing him to face the desk. “Write.”
The pessimist closed his eyes, and Yin Wuzhi pried them open again.
The pessimist allowed his eyes to be held open, but they were devoid of any light or focus.
Unfortunately, because of his human body, his eyes soon felt the sting of exposure, and tears began to well up.
Yin Wuzhi didn’t relent: “If you don’t write, you’ll keep your eyes open like this.”
The pessimist decided that he hated Yin Wuzhi.
But he wouldn’t submit to him.
Seal, mark, five senses.
In the depths of his consciousness, everything became silent.
Tears, held back no longer, poured from his eyes like floodgates opening.
Yin Wuzhi: “…”
He immediately let go, and the pessimist, finally getting his way, shut his eyes. However, his eyes still felt sore and sensitive, and the tears continued to flow uncontrollably.
“You…” Yin Wuzhi scrambled to wipe his tears, saying hurriedly, “Alright, alright, if you finish writing, I’ll kiss you. How about that?”
Who wants your kiss? The emperor wasn’t interested in being forced to work. Whoever made him work, he would act like he was dead to spite them.
“Then… we’ll do it your way, make a deal.” Yin Wuzhi felt his tongue burn as he spoke the words. “A kiss for every word you write.”
The time for bargaining had already passed, and the emperor wasn’t someone who could be easily coaxed.
“…” Was he sulking now? Yin Wuzhi felt embarrassed, realizing that his offer of a kiss was being treated with such indifference. “If you don’t agree, I’ll leave the palace and go back home.”
The pessimist could certainly threaten him to stay, but constant threats were exhausting.
In the end, he needed Yin Wuzhi to help clean up the imperial study.
So, he had to compromise.
However, the pessimist was not going to make it easy on Yin Wuzhi either.
He opened his eyes, their rims reddened, and looked at Yin Wuzhi. “Kiss.”
“…” D*mn, he won again.
Yin Wuzhi pressed a forceful kiss on the pessimist’s lips, his expression dark and full of killing intent.
The pessimist, controlled by his desire to torment Yin Wuzhi, grabbed the pen and said, “One kiss per word.”
“…” This incapable emperor!
Did he like him that much? Was he always trying to take advantage?
Yin Wuzhi’s emotions were complicated, and his expression was far from calm.
The emperor started writing seriously, but every time he finished a word, he demanded another kiss. One word, one kiss.
Yin Wuzhi held him, his brow furrowing so deeply it could crush a fly.
At only nineteen, he was trapped in the palace, doing something akin to a courtesan’s work. He could’ve pursued grand ambitions in the wider world.
And yet, here he was, being used as a “kissing machine.”
He couldn’t help but question the meaning of his existence.
Still, despite his absurd and decadent behavior, the emperor possessed a certain imperial dignity when he focused.
With his long lashes lowered, he seemed to be quite absorbed. His hand, steady on the brush, produced beautiful, flowing script as the brush danced across the paper.
Yin Wuzhi had also worked hard at practicing his calligraphy. After being mocked as a “southern barbarian” when he was young and returned to the capital, he knew that once the southern region was pacified, he would return. So, during his time in the south, he put great effort into improving his language and writing skills.
He wanted to appear more like a man of the capital.
But no matter how hard he tried, there was still a difference compared to someone like Jiang Wu, who had been holding a pen since childhood.
It’s often said that handwriting reflects the person. And at this moment, Yin Wuzhi could see the emperor’s refined and noble demeanor reflected in his elegant script.
The emperor paused, then said, “Kiss.”
Since the emperor had been forced to work, it was only natural that Yin Wuzhi would be forced to kiss him. After all, the emperor never passed up an opportunity to humiliate Yin Wuzhi.
Yin Wuzhi’s thoughts came to an abrupt stop. He darkened his expression and kissed the emperor at the corner of his lips.
Even though he now understood the emperor’s true feelings, Yin Wuzhi still found it hard to deal with such situations. To him, these kinds of intimate actions should happen naturally, between two people in love.
Not as part of a trivial transaction.
…Whatever. The emperor had issues. He would just have to bear with it.
Yin Wuzhi stared at the emperor’s lips for a while and then said, “This is too slow.”
The pessimist: “?”
Before he could react, his chin was grabbed, and a heated kiss was forcefully pressed onto his lips.
Yin Wuzhi didn’t want to admit it, but he realized he didn’t actually mind kissing Jiang Wu. His lips were soft, fragrant, and even a bit sweet.
…It must be because his own body was still young, making him easy to seduce.
Besides, Jiang Wu really was annoyingly good-looking.
After the kiss, Jiang Wu’s gaze became unfocused, and his cheeks were flushed. Yin Wuzhi, seeing him in such a state, gently opened his mouth and breathed air into him.
Don’t forget to breathe, will you?
Did he really enjoy being kissed this much?
Yin Wuzhi’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his face and neck flushed red. Trying to stay composed, he shook Jiang Wu awake and said, “One kiss for one book. Finish a whole book, and you get a long one.”
Jiang Wu stared at him.
“…” Yin Wuzhi, his face burning with embarrassment, turned Jiang Wu’s head back to the documents and said in a grim tone, “Write.”
Only after confirming the seriousness in Yin Wuzhi’s expression did Jiang Wu start writing again.
For a moment, Jiang Wu had wondered if maybe Yin Wuzhi didn’t mind kissing him.
Fortunately, it had all been his imagination.
Yin Wuzhi was still Yin Wuzhi.
After finally finishing all the necessary documents, Jiang Wu collapsed backward, completely exhausted.
So tired.
If humiliating Yin Wuzhi came at such a high cost, it might be better just to let him die.
Yin Wuzhi checked over the completed documents, sorting them into piles of those to be archived and those that needed to be delivered. Once he had tidied up the desk, he looked down to find Jiang Wu still staring at him, eyes wide open.
“Not sleeping?”
There was no response.
The figure in his arms remained completely still, their breathing so light it seemed as if it might stop altogether. Yin Wuzhi slowly extended his hand and waved it in front of his face.
Not. A. Single. Movement.
Yin Wuzhi’s heart skipped two beats. Trying to stay calm, he couldn’t help but scoop up Jiang Wu and rush out of the imperial study at breakneck speed.
Outside, Qi Hanmiao was enjoying the cool night breeze in peace.
Ah, beauty truly is the most effective tool in this world.
If it weren’t for the Yin Shizi sacrificing himself, how else would the Emperor have stayed in the study for so long?
At least half of this dynasty’s prosperity could be attributed to the Shizi’s stunning looks.
A gust of wind swept past Qi Hanmiao before he could even react, and then it doubled back.
Yin Wuzhi, pale as a sheet, spoke softly, “Look carefully, is there something wrong with His Majesty?”
Qi Hanmiao smiled, lowering his gaze to meet the Emperor’s blank, unblinking eyes, dangling limply from the Shizi’s arms.
His whole body hung like a noodle, head and limbs flopping over the edge. His open eyes held an eerie stillness, like someone who had died without closure.
The smile vanished from Qi Hanmiao’s face.
“This servant would say… everything is wrong.”
Yin Wuzhi’s voice trembled, “Don’t make a scene. Go fetch the Imperial Physician.”
Jiang Wu was quickly laid on the dragon bed, his hands folded over his chest, lying serenely with a peaceful expression but vacant eyes.
A hand gently closed his eyes.
Qi Hanmiao knelt beside the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, how could this happen? He’s never been like this before.”
Imperial Physician Gu sighed with a heavy heart, “The Emperor has been inactive for too long. Today he overexerted himself, and that’s why he’s so exhausted.”
Yin Wuzhi stood to the side and said quietly, “It’s all my fault.”
Gu Yan patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself too much. Let His Majesty rest well for now.”
Yin Wuzhi nodded, came over to tuck Jiang Wu in, and sat beside the bed. “This can’t go on.”
Gu Yan looked at him.
“If just doing a little work leaves him so tired that he falls asleep with his eyes open, how weak must his body have become?”
Gu Yan agreed, “You’re right, but the Emperor refuses to move, and there’s little we can do about it.”
“If the Emperor won’t move, can’t we move him?”
Qi Hanmiao wiped his tears. “In the past, people would massage his legs daily.”
Gu Yan sighed, “That’s not what the Shizi means.”
Yin Wuzhi turned back to look at Jiang Wu.
“Starting tonight, remove all chairs and small couches from the Taiji Hall. Make sure there’s nowhere for him to sit or lie down.”
“The Emperor could always sit or lie on the ground.”
“… If it comes to that, we’ll use more drastic measures.”
Qi Hanmiao thought of the silver hooks on the dragon chair. “Do you mean to use bamboo poles to prop him up?”
“Idiot, would propping him up make him move?”
Imperial Physician Gu asked, “What’s the Shizi’s plan? Please share.”
“Have someone sew two sleeves, two pant legs, and a waist belt…” Yin Wuzhi’s tone grew serious. “Then find someone who can move, and tie them together with the Emperor.”
