What Yin Wuzhi told Chen Ziyan wasn’t entirely a lie. After all, Jiang Wu was indeed merciless toward him.
Yin Wuzhi had made up his mind—whatever reasons Jiang Wu had for his actions, they had nothing to do with him anymore.
His request to enter the palace this time was mostly out of concern that Jiang Wu might have plans to deal with the Yin family, and also out of worry for the fates of Chen Ziyan and Qiu Wuchen.
He settled Chen Ziyan in a side hall. Chen Ziyan was quite familiar with the place. “I stayed here the last time I was in the palace.”
As Yin Wuzhi handed him the quilt, he asked, “Did His Majesty not summon you to the Taiji Hall to serve?”
Chen Ziyan’s face flushed red. “Of course not!”
Yin Wuzhi: “…”
Somehow, it didn’t seem like nothing had happened.
Chen Ziyan was quite handsome, with a pair of naturally charming eyes that had probably captured the hearts of countless women. How could that incapable emperor not be moved?
“I still have to serve in the Taiji Hall tonight,” Yin Wuzhi said. “You stay here and rest well. As long as I’m around, I won’t let him bully you.”
Chen Ziyan looked worried. “You’re going to serve him alone?”
“Attendant Qi will be there as well.”
Chen Ziyan relaxed a bit. “That’s good. I remember His Majesty sleeps deeply once he falls asleep, so he shouldn’t have the energy to cause trouble.”
Yin Wuzhi glanced at him. Chen Ziyan had only been in the palace for two or three days—how could he already know so much about the incapable emperor?
At the Taiji Hall, apart from the night guards, there was also Yin Wuzhi, Yin Shizi, assigned to “attend to the emperor’s sleep.” The night grew quiet.
Qi Hanmiao had been sent off to bed by Yin Wuzhi.
Lying on a small couch next to the emperor’s bed, Yin Wuzhi stared at the ceiling for a while before silently turning over and rolling onto the emperor’s bed.
Jiang Wu was lying in the middle of the large bed, exactly where Yin Wuzhi had placed him earlier, hardly having moved at all.
This guy—was he interested in Qiu Wuchen, or was it Chen Ziyan he liked? Yin Wuzhi rested his head on Jiang Wu’s pillow, slowly inching closer until their noses touched.
Suddenly, he thought of Ah Gui.
Though rumors about that dog had been exaggerated, Yin Wuzhi knew his dog’s temperament all too well. Ah Gui was usually distant with strangers, so for it to be so affectionate toward Jiang Wu, there were only two possibilities: either it had met him before, or Jiang Wu carried Yin Wuzhi’s scent.
Yin Wuzhi sniffed closer, wrinkling his nose. As he kept sniffing, his nose ended up pressing against Jiang Wu’s neck.
The scent was a mix of sweet osmanthus, the fragrance of his clothes, and a faint body scent. The combination was dizzying, though hard to define.
Jiang Wu didn’t usually dream while he slept. Only when he was extremely down would he dream of being killed by Yin Wuzhi.
But that night, he dreamed of Ah Gui.
In the dream, he was lying under a tree covered in osmanthus blossoms, his nose filled with the sweet scent of the flowers. He loved that smell—sweet but not cloying, especially when combined with the fresh air after the rain, making it incredibly refreshing.
The big black dog came over and started nudging him.
It poked him with its nose, then licked him with its tongue, making his neck tingle slightly from the dog’s furry head.
He grunted and tried to push it away with his hand, but before his hand could rise, Ah Gui’s paw pressed it down.
This dog is really big.
Too lazy to struggle, he simply turned his head, letting Ah Gui continue to play. Although it wasn’t particularly comfortable, the occasional tickling sensation made him chuckle.
…Maybe having a dog wasn’t such a bad idea.
He thought this in the dream.
Chen Ziyan didn’t sleep well that night. Before dawn, he rose from the side hall and immediately spotted Qi Hanmiao, already dressed in his winter clothes. His brow furrowed. “Attendant Qi, didn’t you serve His Majesty last night?”
“Recently, Yin Shizi has been handling it.”
“All by himself?”
“That’s right.” Seeing Chen Ziyan hurrying toward the Taiji Hall, Qi Hanmiao quickly added, “The shizi is used to it and can manage everything just fine.”
Yin Wuzhi was awoken by the sound of hurried footsteps. He perked up his ears and quickly recognized the visitor by their breathing.
Black boots turned the corner and entered the sleeping quarters. Chen Ziyan glanced around but couldn’t spot Yin Wuzhi, so his gaze fixed on the heavy bed curtains.
“Ah Zhi…”
He reached out to pull the curtains.
“?” They wouldn’t budge.
“Ah Zhi…”
“Brother Chen,” Yin Wuzhi’s voice came from inside, sounding slightly strained. “Could I trouble you to leave for a moment?”
Of course, the incapable emperor, after finally getting Yin Wuzhi back into the palace, wouldn’t just sit idly by.
Chen Ziyan’s eyes filled with pain. What kind of life had Ah Zhi been living these days? He couldn’t believe he had been naive enough to believe the comforting words Yin Wuzhi had told him yesterday.
Proud as Ah Zhi was, he certainly wouldn’t want to be seen in such a compromising situation right now.
Whatever happens in the future, they must never be left alone together again.
As Chen Ziyan made up his mind, he pretended to know nothing. “I’ll step out for now. Take your time.”
He left, deeply saddened, and even took the initiative to stop Qi Hanmiao from entering.
Yin Wuzhi breathed a brief sigh of relief.
He looked down at the incapable emperor.
Inside the dim bed curtains, Jiang Wu was still sleeping peacefully, but his fair neck was already marked with a delicate flush and a few deep, dark spots.
Yin Wuzhi reached out and rubbed them, and they only grew redder.
It’s over.
He pinched his own neck a few times and called outside, “It’s cold today. Prepare a scarf for His Majesty.”
Qi Hanmiao respectfully asked, “Would you like one as well, Your Highness?”
Yin Wuzhi had been waiting for that question. “Yes.”
Wrapping a scarf around his neck, he got out of bed and headed for the imperial study, trying to maintain his composure. Chen Ziyan quickly followed, wanting to ask something but unsure how.
After a moment of silence, Yin Wuzhi said, “Last night, it was His Majesty who insisted on holding me.”
Chen Ziyan nodded and said, “You don’t have to say anything. I understand.”
In the study, the underfloor heating was on. Yin Wuzhi tugged at his scarf twice, feeling the gaze of Chen Ziyan drifting toward him. Deliberately, he revealed the red marks that had been twisted out, but only for a moment before properly retying the scarf.
Chen Ziyan: “…”
He had already guessed that Ah Zhi had lied earlier just to stop him from worrying. That lazy emperor was normally indifferent, but he was oddly passionate about this particular matter.
The sound of paper rustling filled the air, and Chen Ziyan said, “If His Majesty calls for service again tonight, let me handle it.”
“There’s no need for that, Brother Chen,” Yin Wuzhi replied. “Given the current circumstances, it’s best not to drag both of us into this. I’ll take care of it.”
Though the logic was sound, Chen Ziyan still felt uneasy. His resolve strengthened, determined to reduce the number of times they would be left alone together in the future. Though he couldn’t completely pull him out of this suffering, sparing him from a few more hardships was good enough.
Yin Wuzhi kept an eye on the time and, once Jiang Wu was likely awake, he set aside his reports. “I want to go for a walk.”
Chen Ziyan responded, “Leave this to me.”
A bit of fresh air would do him good.
Yin Wuzhi stepped outside and went directly to the Taiji Hall. He pulled back the bed curtains, and sure enough, the emperor was awake, staring blankly at the ceiling as always. What exactly was so interesting up there?
Yin Wuzhi lifted him to change his clothes, grabbing a scarf. “The temperature’s dropped again today. Be careful not to catch a chill around your neck.”
Yin Wuzhi was indeed attentive. If living weren’t so bothersome, it might actually be pleasant to just be a salted fish like this.
Wrapped in the scarf, Jiang Wu was fed and then carried under the veranda, continuing to stare at the glazed tiles atop the high walls. Today, there was no sunlight, so the tiles didn’t shimmer.
Instead, something was gently drifting down from the sky.
Yin Wuzhi extended his long fingers under the eaves and said, “It’s snowing.”
At the same time, many of the nearby eunuchs and maids also noticed and instinctively reached out to catch the falling snowflakes. Their voices carried a note of excitement, “It’s snowing!”
“Really, the first snowfall of the winter.”
“By tomorrow, the entire palace will be blanketed in white.”
Outside the palace walls, the maids’ exclamations echoed, “Snow! Snow!”
“Snow.” A voice beside him caught Yin Wuzhi’s attention. He turned his head and immediately felt as if he had been frozen in place.
The emperor had stood up at some point, with sable fur wrapped around his neck and ink-black hair cascading over his shoulders. Against the black-and-white contrast, his face was as delicate as jade.
He stepped down from the platform, bare feet in socks, and tilted his face toward the sky.
A tuft of white fell into his outstretched palm.
His fingertips trembled slightly.
So cold.
He showed it to Yin Wuzhi, his gaze clear, “Snow.”
Yin Wuzhi merely stared at him.
Of course, to humans, snow wasn’t that awe-inspiring. After all, they experienced it every year.
Jiang Wu withdrew his hand and looked down at his palm.
It was gone.
He remembered that when snow touched warmth, it turned into water—ordinary water that could be found anywhere.
It was his hand’s heat that had driven it away.
“Look here.” Someone stepped in front of him, lifting their sleeve. The fabric was cooler than his hand, so the snow lasted a bit longer but still disappeared quickly.
Yin Wuzhi added, “Look at this.”
He extended his entire arm, gesturing to Jiang Wu, “It’s falling again. See, more is landing here.”
Jiang Wu’s eyes followed his hand.
Yin Wuzhi’s gaze shifted toward him. “You’ve got some on you, too.”
Jiang Wu glanced down at himself, seeing that snow had indeed settled in his hair draped over his shoulders.
Yin Wuzhi remarked, “By tomorrow, you’ll see the palace covered in snow from sky to ground.”
He had seen it before, snow from many places, and had long hoped to touch it one day.
Now he finally had, and it was indeed icy and cold, not exactly pleasant during winter.
“If you like, we can get up early tomorrow, and I’ll take you for a walk.”
Jiang Wu was already losing interest. “Do we have to get up early to see it?”
“…Not necessarily,” Yin Wuzhi replied, realizing he had been trying to coax the emperor into rising early. “It’s fine to go later.”
He could tell Jiang Wu seemed to like snow, just as he liked osmanthus flowers and egg custard. There was no obsession, just simple fondness. It was nice if there was some, but if not, it didn’t matter much.
“Oh.” Jiang Wu returned to his usual calm. “Carry.”
Yin Wuzhi lifted him back into the chair and squatted beside him, coaxing, “If we get up early enough, there will be no footprints in the snow, and you can walk all over. When you look back, wow, the entire palace will be yours.”
“Even if I don’t step on it, it’s still mine.”
“…” Yin Wuzhi paused. “Does Your Majesty not like stepping in snow?”
“Why should I?”
“Because it sings when you step on it.”
Jiang Wu looked at him. “Sings?”
“Yes, it makes a crisp sound.” Yin Wuzhi studied him, sensing something was amiss. He tentatively asked, “Does Your Majesty know what snow sounds like when stepped on?”
“…” Jiang Wu began to think.
He realized he couldn’t answer. The real Jiang Wu should have stepped on snow before, of course.
Should he reveal to Yin Wuzhi that he wasn’t the original Jiang Wu? Would Yin Wuzhi try to kill him, or perhaps research him?
Not having figured it out yet, he chose not to respond.
Yin Wuzhi recalled the time when he had been carried around to smell osmanthus flowers, and an inkling of suspicion began to form. Just as he was about to speak again, Chen Ziyan’s voice interrupted, “Ah Zhi, come quickly, there’s an urgent matter in the study.”
Yin Wuzhi had no choice but to excuse himself.
He followed Chen Ziyan out of the Taiji Hall and into the study. “What is it, Brother Chen?”
“There’s no such thing.” Chen Ziyan closed the door, his face full of brotherly affection. “I saw you hadn’t returned after being out for so long, and I got a bit worried. As expected, as soon as I entered the Taiji Hall, I saw you being punished to squat by His Majesty, so I quickly thought of a way to help you.”
After saying that, he turned around and handed some memorials to Yin Wuzhi. “And I even notified the Ministry of Revenue to send over everything, whether it can be dealt with or not, to the Imperial Study. These, these—all for you. I guarantee you won’t finish them all tonight, and as long as we stay busy, there’s no excuse for His Majesty to summon you.”
“…Thank you.”
“No need for thanks.” Chen Ziyan replied, still concerned. “How’s your leg? Did it go numb from squatting?”
