Han Ben did things quickly and efficiently, and soon presented the investigation results on Yin Fu to Yu Wang.
The background and sect were genuine. The old sect leader of that second-rate sect had just passed away, and with no strong successors, the sect was on the verge of falling into third or fourth-rate status. Han Ben easily obtained the list of disciples and found that Yin Fu had joined the sect eight years ago, around the same time his parents had passed away.
Han Ben felt reassured and reported back to Yu Wang, “This man checks out.”
Yu Wang was busy playing with his child and absentmindedly said, “He can stay. Put him under your training.”
Before he could say another word, the shizi peed all over his lap. Yu Wang felt the hot, wet sensation seep through his trousers and into his thighs, his face darkening. He asked the wet nurse, “He’s almost two years old. How is he still wetting himself? Is he stupid or something?”
The wet nurse quickly picked up the child and snapped back, “Your Highness, how can you say that? It’s perfectly normal for little ones to wet their beds and pants at this age. Have you ever seen a child under two who never had an accident? Besides, I’ve never seen a better-behaved baby — he could say ‘Dad, buy candied hawthorn’ at ten months old! How can you say he’s not smart?”
“Dad, buy candied hawthorn, Ah Wu eat,” the little shizi piped up in a milky voice.
Yu Wang raised his eyebrows and pinched open the boy’s tiny mouth, inspecting his still-incomplete rows of baby teeth. “You keep nagging me to buy candied hawthorn, but you can’t even chew it properly. The syrup just gets all over me. What a little nuisance.”
He handled the boy carelessly, squishing his rosy little mouth into a funny shape. The wet nurse, annoyed, turned away protectively, shooting Yu Wang a glare.
Yu Wang rubbed his fingers together, gave an awkward laugh, and said to his son, “Go change your pants first. Then Dad will take you to the market.”
The wet nurse carried the child away to clean up, and Yu Wang prepared to bathe and change clothes as well.
Han Ben had long felt that the Wangye’s household was missing a mistress — no one was properly managing the inner affairs, and the shizi was still so young, while the Wangye himself was a completely unreliable father. It couldn’t go on like this. So he tried again to persuade him: “Since Hengshu Wangfei won’t be returning, Wangye, have you considered taking a side consort? Even if you’re not interested romantically, marrying a virtuous lady from a good family would at least ensure the young master is properly cared for.”
Yu Wang looked completely indifferent. “A few wet nurses are doing just fine taking care of him. Why would I need a burdensome stepmother? If anything, a stepfather would make more sense.”
Han Ben knew very well that his lordship had taken a liking to a young official. This time, it seemed serious — it had already been several months without any new affairs, and he even declined banquets hosted by scholars, focusing wholeheartedly on the founding of the Heavenly Works Academy. Truly diligent.
Han Ben also understood that, having been confined to the capital for the past ten years, Yu Wang had been under a lot of pressure, constantly wary of the emperor’s suspicions. To avoid drawing attention from any faction, he chose to publicly indulge in vice — not greed for wealth, not drunkenness (since he could drink endlessly without getting drunk) — but instead flaunted his liking for handsome young men, the only “vice” worth exploiting.
Yet even this self-indulgence had a touch of rebellion: he refused to frequent brothels or keep boy-servants; instead, he only befriended young, handsome officials — clearly to make things awkward for the emperor.
Han Ben had gently advised him a few times, essentially saying: Your humble servant knows Wangye favors beautiful and talented young men, but couldn’t you pick ones without official rank? There’s no need to target civil servants — after all, it’s uncomfortable having to run into them daily at court. Wangye may not mind, but your former favorites certainly do, and it makes everything so awkward.
During the last such conversation, Yu Wang had been getting ready to attend a banquet at the Ministry of Rites to meet newly appointed scholars. Laughing coldly, he said: “Awkwardness is exactly what I want. If they want to kill me, let them. If they want to release me, fine. If they want to keep me chained, then they can deal with me muddying the waters and making them uncomfortable all the time.
“Besides, scholars who don’t seek officialdom tend to be too aloof. They’re fine for a few polite conversations, but if you really get involved with them, they get all high and mighty about their purity. I can’t deal with that. Officials are much better — after a few encounters, they start setting conditions: a recommendation here, a favor there. So much simpler.”
Han Ben had shaken his head, completely giving up trying to change his mind.
“Don’t look so exasperated,” Yu Wang added with a laugh. “Who knows, maybe among these new scholars there’ll be one or two real charmers who’ll make me head over heels, and I’ll be faithful to just one from now on.”
Saying that, he had thrown his head back and laughed as he left for the banquet.
Now, less than nine months later, he had already picked out a “stepfather” for his son… Han Ben found it both funny and ironic. Had Wangye predicted his own fate, or just slapped himself in the face?
—
Yu Wang left the manor in plain clothes, carrying the shizi under his arm, wandering the market like an ordinary new father.
The little shzi kicked his stubby legs, but whenever he cried, Yu Wang threatened not to buy him candied hawthorn. Poor little thing — for the sake of the candy, he had to hold back his tears.
As long as the boy’s diaper was thick enough, Yu Wang figured he could manage him alone. He didn’t bring any guards — partly because there were only a few days left until New Year’s Eve and the guards needed time off, and partly because he himself was fearless.
This day was the twenty-sixth of the twelfth month — the day Shen Qi had mentioned in his letter, saying he would return to the capital.
Su Yan, in order to avoid the Crown Prince’s attempts to recruit him for last-minute errands, got up early, dressed neatly, and prepared to leave the house.
Jinghong Zhui had started even earlier than him and was practicing swordsmanship in the front courtyard. Seeing Su Yan, he asked, “Lord, do you have business? Allow me to accompany you.”
Su Yan inwardly grumbled: You? Accompany me? Then we’d both end up in the medical ward! Oh great, while others are celebrating the New Year, I’d be stuck tending to medicine pots.
But on the surface, he smiled and said, “No need. I’m attending a gathering with my fellow scholars, including Top Scorer Cui. By the way, do you know if the Nine-Square Hotpot I ordered from the blacksmith is ready? If it’s done today, wait there and test it—see if it heats up fast enough and doesn’t leak.”
Jinghong Zhui agreed, even hired a carriage for Su Yan, and only left after seeing him off.
Su Yan instructed the coachman, “Take me to the Northern Surveillance Bureau.”
The Northern Surveillance Bureau had a fearsome reputation—its imperial prison was a place even ghosts avoided. The chilling wind seemed to blow straight from the mouths of the stone lions at the entrance, making common folk shudder just walking past. The coachman trembled and asked, “Sir, are you…?”
“Relax, I’m not going in as a prisoner,” Su Yan reassured him. “I’m visiting a friend.”
Only then did the coachman breathe a sigh of relief and flick his whip to set off.
The streets were bustling with crowds celebrating the New Year—every citizen of the capital, from court officials to commoners, was on holiday. People thronged the markets, shopping and feasting. Just the liquor consumption this month alone could account for half of the year’s supply.
The carriage moved sluggishly, navigating through the dense crowd. Growing impatient, Su Yan lifted the curtain to look at the street vendors outside.
When they reached the main intersection of Dashi Yongfang, the road was completely blocked. The coachman turned to Su Yan apologetically, “I’m afraid we can’t go any further, Sir. You’ll have to walk from here.”
With no other choice, Su Yan paid the fare and got off.
After walking for a while, he came across a small snack stall and saw a young boy, around two years old, standing alone and wailing. He clutched a half-eaten, mangled sugar-coated hawthorn skewer in his tiny hand.
Su Yan noticed that the child had no guardian nearby—he must have been separated from his family in the crowd. If a child trafficker spotted him, they wouldn’t even need to drug him—just snatch him up and sell him. That would be too tragic. His heart softened, and he crouched down to ask, “Little one, where are your parents?”
The boy only wailed louder, his little face scrunched up.
Su Yan asked the vendor, but they shook their head, saying they didn’t know. So, he bought a brightly colored sugar figurine shaped like the Monkey King and offered it to the child.
The boy was instantly distracted and reached for it—forgetting that he was still holding something in his right hand. The moment he grabbed the sugar figurine, the hawthorn skewer fell to the ground.
Seeing his mouth quiver, about to cry again, Su Yan quickly bought him another skewer and placed it in his free hand.
Finally content, the boy started munching on the sugar figurine. Su Yan patiently asked him several times before he mumbled in his babyish voice, “Daddy… Wang… Ah Wu eats sugar hawthorn…”
Su Yan guessed, “Your name is Ah Wu? Your Father’s surname is Wang? Do you know where your home is? Can you walk there?”
The boy shook his head and kept eating.
Judging by his fine clothes, the shaved head with warm rabbit-fur ear covers, and the peach-heart-shaped tufts of hair tied with gold and silver thread, Su Yan could tell this child belonged to a wealthy family in the capital. A gold necklace hung around his neck—he was clearly from an affluent household.
But with just a surname and a vague ranking among siblings, finding his family in such a vast city would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Seeing no better option, Su Yan decided to take the child to the West City Military Patrol Office and let the authorities return him home.
He had only walked a few steps when the boy suddenly called out, “Daddy!” Su Yan followed his gaze but couldn’t tell who he was shouting at in the sea of people.
He continued walking in that direction for a hundred paces when the child shouted “Daddy” again. Step by step, Su Yan followed the little one’s cues, gradually straying from his original path and heading southeast toward Nanxun Lane.
Though the boy was small, he was surprisingly sturdy. Weighing nearly thirty pounds, he wriggled and fidgeted in Su Yan’s arms, making it quite the struggle. After a while, Su Yan was exhausted and stopped outside a tavern to catch his breath.
“Did you even see your Father?” Su Yan panted. “If we can’t find him soon, I’m taking you to the patrol office.”
Just then, a voice called out from behind, “Ah Wu.”
The child spat out a piece of hawthorn, turned toward the sound, and cried, “Daddy!” His little feet kicked wildly, eager to get down.
As Su Yan turned, the child suddenly struggled in his arms, nearly making him lose his balance and tumble onto a nearby bench.
Luckily, the man behind them reacted quickly, catching both Su Yan and the child in one swift motion. He said, “This is my son. We got separated in the crowd. Thank you for your kindness, sir—I must repay you.”
The voice was so familiar.
Su Yan looked up and, upon seeing the man’s face clearly, blurted out, “It’s you?!”
Yu Wang had been tailing them since Su Yan left the carriage. He had calculated the perfect moment to “lose” his child at a stall, then followed them closely. Now, he feigned surprise and exclaimed in unison, “It’s you?!”
Su Yan, momentarily stunned, composed himself and stepped away, placing the child on the ground. The boy threw himself at Yu Wang’s legs, hugging them tightly and repeatedly calling, “Daddy, daddy!”
Only then did Su Yan believe that the child was indeed his.
A thought suddenly struck him—after the imperial examination, during a drinking session with Top Scorer Cui Jinping, he had gossiped that Ye Donglou was tutoring Yu Wang’s shizi. At the time, the boy had only been a little over a year old and still wobbly on his feet.
Now, half a year had passed, and Yu Wang’s son was nearly two and just starting to talk.
…Wait. Yu Wang had a Wangfei? If he had a Wangfei, why was he still gallivanting about with his so-called “kindred spirits” all over the capital? Scumbag!
Su Yan’s expression darkened. He cupped his hands perfunctorily and said, “It was nothing. No need for gratitude, Wang…. I have business to attend to—farewell.”
Even though his face was black as thunder, he still had the presence of mind to acknowledge Yu Wang’s covert status. Clearly, he didn’t want to expose him. It was quite considerate, really…
Yu Wang chuckled, his gaze rippling like moonlight over a lake. In a low voice, he explained, “His mother left the capital not long after giving birth.”
Su Yan frowned. “She ran away? Because of you?”
Yu Wang said, “Not at all. She was overjoyed, put on a Seven-Star Daoist robe, laughed three times at the door, and declared that her mortal ties were severed. She left to pursue the Grand Dao of immortality, without a single regret. She only left behind this child and a divorce letter. Before leaving, she named him ‘Ah Wu,’ saying that only by being free of distractions could one sever the Three Corpses and successfully form a golden core. So, she left the ‘Wu’ for me to remember.”
Su Yan sighed. “She’s truly an extraordinary woman.”
Wait a minute! Golden Core Dao, Foundation Establishment—these terms sounded so familiar, very much like the xianxia fantasy from his previous life… Holy sh*t, could the Wangfei also be a transmigrator? How come she got so lucky, landing in a male-protagonist cultivation script, while he—?! If she really was a fellow traveler, and an experienced one at that, she might know something… like a way to go back?
Even though Su Yan had already resigned himself to staying in this era, he couldn’t help but feel momentarily unbalanced. He urgently asked, “Do you know where the Wangfei is now? Can she be found? I have important matters to ask her.”
Yu Wang looked at him with a trace of suspicion, wondering just how deep his admiration could be for someone he had never even met. He replied in an indifferent tone, “The world is vast. Who knows which mountain she’s cultivating on now? How could I find her? Besides, she’s a renunciant now. Why seek her out?”
Su Yan realized he had asked too hastily. After all, she was this man’s former wife—if Yu Wang misunderstood and thought he had ulterior motives, that would be a huge injustice. He quickly forced a smile. “I was just curious if cultivation was real, so I asked casually.”
Yu Wang didn’t believe in such ethereal nonsense. Holding his son in one arm, he instead advised Su Yan, “Throughout history, emperors have pursued immortality, but it’s the greatest lie of all. Alchemists and Daoist charlatans are nothing but frauds. Even someone as intelligent as Qinghe—do you think he would believe such things?”
Before transmigrating, Su Yan had been a staunch materialist. Now… it was hard to say. But he still believed that transmigration was a science-fiction event, not a fantasy one. Hearing Yu Wang’s words, he found the man to be remarkably clear-headed for someone of this era.
Especially among the ruling class—those with power were often the most obsessed with clinging to life. The mere thought of death filled them with terror, which was why so many emperors throughout history had turned to alchemy, Daoist practices, and elixirs like the infamous Red Pills. Even the late emperor, Emperor Xianzong—a man who had conquered lands far and wide, commanding armies across all eight directions—had, in his final years, desperately sought supernatural means to extend his life.
Su Yan could understand their mindset. It was no different from modern people expecting medicine to develop to the point of eradicating all diseases. Even on their deathbeds, they would still plead, Doctor, I think I can still be saved! The difference was that one group placed their faith in mysticism, while the other put their trust in medicine.
That was precisely why a Wangye who didn’t believe in superstitions was such a rarity. Su Yan asked in return, “If there really was a power beyond human comprehension, wouldn’t you be tempted to witness its wonders?”
Yu Wang chuckled. “If such a power exists, why would it grant me its miracles? And what would it demand from me in return? The world has its mysteries—mountains, rivers, wind, snow, thunder, lightning—but they don’t necessarily have sentience. The only beings with true consciousness are people, which is why humans are the rulers of all things. I don’t believe in gods, I don’t believe in fate, I don’t believe in karma or reincarnation—I only believe in people. I believe in myself.”
He acknowledged the vast forces of the universe but denied the existence of a divine will. This perspective resonated deeply with Su Yan.
Yu Wang noticed Su Yan nodding slightly, his eyes reflecting approval. The reaction was different from most people’s. As a child, his parents had scolded him for refusing to bow to the heavens and the gods. As an adult, those around him—though they dared not refute him aloud—had never truly accepted his views.
And that wasn’t all. He had even once privately told the emperor that carnal desire is human nature. Widows have it hard—why must they remain chaste? If the Empress Dowager wants to keep a lover for relief, as long as it doesn’t interfere with governance, then let her. At worst, just treat him as a human-shaped jade pleasure toy. He still remembered the way his elder brother, the emperor, had looked at him then… indescribable.
Would Su Yan, perhaps, understand such thoughts too? Yu Wang found himself harboring a strange expectation.
He smiled. “You helped me find my son. It wouldn’t be right not to properly repay you. Why don’t I treat you to a drink? This tavern here is quite good. Their lamb wine is particularly unique—milky white in color, exceptionally smooth and fragrant, rich in nutrients, and excellent for warming the body in winter. It strengthens the spleen, nourishes the kidneys—”
Su Yan harbored deep resentment toward him. Being able to converse civilly without outright cursing him was already pushing his limits—there was no way he’d sit down for a drink, lest he be plied with alcohol and taken advantage of again. He immediately declined, “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your kindness, but there is a distinction of rank. I understand your good intentions, but I dare not overstep.”
Yu Wang caught the veiled insult—was Su Yan saying he had noble status but disgraceful morals, and that he wasn’t worthy of his company? Otherwise, why was he willing to stay overnight in the Crown Prince’s residence but not accept his hospitality?
Still holding a grudge over what happened at the waterside pavilion? He had used some forceful means at first, true, but in the latter half, if Su Yan had truly resisted with all his might, would he have been unable to stop?
His past lovers often played the same game—crying out in protest yet arching their bodies seductively. Was a bit of coercion and sweet talk really coercion at all? Wasn’t it just part of the fun?
Yu Wang had wanted to share his thoughts with Su Yan, hoping he might receive the same understanding as their previous discussion on human nature. But unfortunately for him, Su Yan had no intention of engaging in a philosophical exchange with someone he regarded as a r*pist.
Right now, his mind was occupied with tracking down Shen Qi, who had just arrived in the capital. He needed to intercept him at the government office or the Shen residence—anywhere but his own home. If Ah Zhui found out, those two would be at each other’s throats again like a pair of rabid dogs.
Su Yan half-heartedly cupped his hands in farewell and turned to leave—only for Yu Wang to suddenly toss his son into his arms.
Startled, Su Yan instinctively caught the child.
Little Ah Wu clung to his robe, wailing and pitifully calling him “Daddy.”
Yu Wang, ever decisive, declared, “Ah Wu likes you and wants to recognize you as his godfather. The palace is chaotic during the New Year, and the wet nurse has gone home. No one’s around to take care of him. How about you watch over him for two days? Once I’ve prepared a suitable gift, I’ll come and redeem him.”
Su Yan was utterly shocked and furious. Was this guy insane?! “He’s your son, not mine! What do you mean by just throwing him at me? I have neither the responsibility nor the obligation to take care of him! And what’s this about redeeming him—what am I, a bandit? A kidnapper?!”
Yu Wang was determined to entangle himself with Su Yan. Whether Su Yan chose to temporarily foster the child and wait for him to retrieve him, or if he stubbornly insisted on returning the boy to the palace, his personality guaranteed he would personally oversee the handover.
One way or another, they would have to keep meeting.
So, the former General of Jingbei summoned the decisive aura of the battlefield and left without another word.
Su Yan, holding the child, couldn’t catch up and was so furious that his voice trembled, mingling with the child’s wailing, like a pitiful abandoned wife watching her heartless husband walk away: “Zhu Xujing, you b*stard! You heartless b*stard who even uses your own son!”
