The two palace attendants backed out of the Yangxin Hall with trembling fear, closed the doors again, wiped the cold sweat from their brows, bowed, and hurried down the steps.
Attendant A whispered, “Just now when His Majesty smashed the latticed door with that blow, it scared me half to death.”
Attendant B nodded. “His Majesty rarely loses his temper. Lord Su this time has really touched his reverse scale. Did you hear? They say the Embroidered Uniform Guard Shen Qi has been two-faced — pretending obedience while deceiving his superiors — and even dared lay hands on one of the sovereign’s people. Yet Lord Su keeps defending Shen Qi. If that isn’t foolishness, what is? I don’t know how His Majesty will punish him after we leave. Although… I can’t help but feel His Majesty’s attitude toward this Lord Su is unusual…”
Attendant A hissed, “This is the palace — to speak ill of the ruler is to risk your life. Take my friendly advice: watch your words and actions!”
“Brother, you’re right; I understand.” Attendant B hunched his neck and fell silent.
They parted ways in the corridor and returned to their rooms.
Before long, a small black-feathered sparrow slipped out through the crack of Attendant A’s window, silent as a shadow, and darted into the night sky, flying beyond the palace walls.
—
On the bed inside the hall, Su Yan, heart pounding, whispered in alarm, “Your Highness said you wouldn’t force me — that you’d wait until I came to my senses. You also said that if I weren’t willing, even if you stripped me naked you wouldn’t touch me. Words to be held to, Your Majesty!”
“Your senses have opened — pity they opened for someone else.” Emperor Jinglong spoke with a double meaning. “Whenever I think back to the day I crowned you, I wonder if I made a mistake. Otherwise, how could all my pity, respect, and expectations have become someone else’s dowry?”
Su Yan recalled Shen Qi’s actions that day — to call it “taking advantage of a fire to loot” was no exaggeration. What he seized was not only himself, but also the emperor’s dignity and goodwill. From then on, their ill-fated bond grew ever deeper, impossible to untangle. Overcome with shame, he choked out, “This minister has wronged Your Majesty…”
“You’ve said more than once that you’ve wronged me. Do you feel lighter after saying it, so you can carry on without a care, entangling yourself with him again?
“If I press you a little harder, question you a little more, oh, you act so aggrieved — crying for retirement, vowing to remonstrate to the death, throwing all your unreasonable stubbornness at me. Tell me, isn’t that relying on the fact that I’ve shown my heart first, relying on the special favor I’ve given you, so you grow willful and spoiled?
“That streak of obstinacy of yours — if you had spent even half of it on Shen Qi, you would have pushed him away long ago, and we wouldn’t be in this muddled mess now!
“Su Qinghe, Su Qinghe… you really do know how to serve dishes depending on the face you see!”
Each word from the emperor struck sharp, like invisible slaps and lashes, making Su Yan unbearably shamed, unbearably pained.
He knew he was in the wrong, and at this moment his tongue could no longer spin out lotus blossoms. But his wounded pride and humiliation only stoked his anger.
Shame and fury tangled together, too bitter to put into words, until despair welled up in him. All of a sudden he reached for his belt. His trembling hands fumbled and failed to undo it, so instead he clawed at the emperor’s robes, tears streaming down. “Your Majesty is right — it’s all me who doesn’t know good from bad! Your grace is vast, and I should long since have been more obedient, joyfully offering myself up. However Your Majesty wishes to favor me — shall I set the posture now and see if it pleases you?”
The emperor seized the hand tugging at his collar, holding back his bitterness as he rebuked, “Again making a scene with me — do you truly take yourself for a child?”
Su Yan, reckless and resigned, wrenched his hand free, flung himself onto the emperor, and went tugging at his trousers. “I remember — last time Your Majesty said to sit on your lap. How could I dare disobey an imperial command as weighty as a mountain…”
Emperor Jinglong’s head ached and heart ached from his crying. His shoulder, damp with tears, burned with pain. He knew well these tears were half real, half feigned; this so-called obedience was nothing but a way to advance by feigning retreat. Yet he still could not harden his heart, could not simply take him by force.
And faintly he worried — knowing Su Yan’s nature, though taking him now might be easy, afterward their hearts might part, as if a tender sapling he had carefully cultivated was battered by one night’s wind and rain, never to flower again.
In the end he could only let out a long sigh, pulling Su Yan into his arms, refusing to let him move further.
Su Yan sobbed uncontrollably. He struggled a few times without breaking free, thought of biting hard but lacked the courage, so he butted his forehead against the emperor’s chest again and again like a bell being struck.
The emperor’s chest ached from the blows. Half crying, half laughing, he held Su Yan’s forehead down and sighed, “Enough, enough, don’t cry. It’s my fault — I shouldn’t have provoked you with such harsh words.”
“Have I spoiled Your Majesty’s mood by crying? I don’t know — when those concubines of the harem receive your favor, do they laugh or not, do they cry out or not? I can imitate them and serve you as best I can. Please instruct me!”
“You really won’t let go…” The emperor gave a wry smile, cradling him to coax. “Who hasn’t spoken in anger? I too was momentarily muddled. Can’t you let things go, instead of pressing me until I must offer you an apology ritual?”
Su Yan knew the emperor’s compromise did not come easily; he too must take the chance to stop. Pressing against the emperor’s palm, he hiccupped through tears: “It was I who spoke hurtful words first… In truth, I never thought Your Majesty old, nor thought your care, your discipline, your teaching of me was like a father to his son—”
The emperor smacked him hard on the buttocks. “Still talking!”
Su Yan shuddered in pain, his breath caught, and hiccups broke out as he cried. “I really didn’t, hic, mean that — after all, we’ve kissed, how could it be, hic—”
The emperor feared he would say something like “how could a father kiss his son,” words sharp as blades. So he pinched his chin, lifted his face, and blocked that dangerous mouth with his own.
Su Yan was still hiccupping, but the emperor breathed into him; breath met breath, and miraculously the hiccups ceased.
Lips warm and wet, tinged with the salt of tears — the emperor kissed him with tender intensity, and when he received a hesitant response, his breath scattered.
His heart, usually so steady, beat violently against his will. One hand cupped Su Yan’s nape, the other rested at his waist and hip, deepening the hungry entanglement of their mouths.
Su Yan, kissed into arousal, closed his eyes and leaned against the emperor’s arm, his breath quick.
The emperor could no longer restrain himself. His long-starved body burned with desire. As he licked away the tear-tracks on Su Yan’s cheek, his hand kneaded the soft, rounded flesh of his buttocks. Su Yan flushed with shame, reached behind to grasp his wrist, and weakly stopped him. “Your Majesty, don’t touch there…”
The emperor caught his hand instead, guiding it across his own body. “Then touch me.”
The sash loosened, robes fell open. Under the emperor’s guidance, Su Yan’s fingers explored the broad chest, the firm waist and abdomen, as if spring winds were measuring every inch of mountain and river, feeling the vigorous heat and vitality of the land.
The kisses grew ever hotter, ever more entangled. In the haze, his fingers brushed against the hard swelling between the emperor’s thighs. Su Yan started in alarm, instinctively trying to withdraw his hand, but the emperor closed his hand around Su Yan’s fingers, forcing them to wrap around him, panting low: “So long unrelieved — it’s not good for the body. Minister Su, you must bear the trouble, ease me a little.”
Even through the clothing, the burning hardness beneath his palm was clear — hardness beyond measure, not a fleshly rod but an iron bar, as if the heated, slick skin were only a disguise for its true nature. Its size was equally astonishing.
Su Yan’s face burned red, his thoughts adrift. Now he recalled the emperor’s past words — As long as I sit the throne, I will be your pillar to hold up the sky; now some fragment from a book — the emperor most mighty in that organ, the youth unable to bear, the bedding torn to shreds… A shiver of awe ran through him.
The emperor tightened his hold on Su Yan’s fingers and asked, “What are you still hesitating for, Minister Su — do you want to use your hand, or your mouth?”
“Hand—hand, I’ll use my hand!”
Su Yan knew there was no escape. He hastily chose the lesser of two evils, lest the emperor change his mind and demand he serve him in an even more unbearable way “to ease his ruler’s burden.”
The emperor kissed the curve of his ear, taking the lobe into his mouth with a low laugh. “Good. Then with your hand.”
Su Yan knelt astride, seated on the emperor’s lap. Breathless from the kisses, his fingers still had to labor in service — practically offering up every skill and knowledge he had gleaned in his past single days, be it self-study or from watching illicit films.
The emperor’s hand slid beneath his disheveled robes, caressing along his back, tracing the line of his spine, teasing at the sensitive hollow of his waist, sending waves of shivering numbness through him.
Whenever his hand faltered, those caresses would dip down along his cleft, frightening Su Yan into immediately quickening his strokes.
His hands had never touched rough work; his palms were tender and smooth. The way he stroked the pillar was exquisitely pleasurable. And the thin callus on his middle finger’s knuckle — born of long years holding a brush — occasionally scraped across the sensitive ridge of the crown, offering just the right stimulation. The emperor let out a low, pleased moan, and in reward patted his rounded buttocks. The crisp pa-pa of those smacks rang lewd in the air.
Su Yan felt a faint sting, yet mixed in with it was a secret thrill, a strange pleasure he dared not name. Between his thighs, his own arousal was beginning to stir.
Thank heaven for the heavy robes concealing it — otherwise every shred of dignity would be gone. And all this in front of the Son of Heaven he had refused time and again! Su Yan thought, burning with shame.
The emperor punished him again by biting at his swollen lips, husky-voiced: “Focus.”
Su Yan’s right hand tired, so he switched to the left; when the left grew sore, he switched back to the right. At last he couldn’t help but complain, “If it’s been so long unsatisfied, it should be more sensitive. Why hasn’t anything come out yet? Has Your Majesty tricked me?”
Panting, the emperor pressed a kiss to his eyelids and chuckled, “I haven’t tricked you. You’re simply not working hard enough. Otherwise… why not use your mouth?”
Su Yan’s hand trembled. His grip slipped, pressing against the groove of the glans.
The emperor grunted, body taut with sudden tension. Su Yan realized climax was near. Fearing to be soiled on his robes and body — the mess would mean washing, changing, perhaps letting the whole Yangxin Hall know — he hastily pressed a handkerchief to the slit and wrapped his hand around.
In moments the cloth was soaked through, unable to contain the seepage. His palm grew wet and hot, drenched with the emperor’s seed.
“…Now I believe it,” he said with a crooked smile, teasing, “you really were pent up.”
The emperor, arms tight around his beloved minister, eyes half-lidded, savoring the afterglow, murmured slowly, “And you still dare make fun of me? Should I not hold you to account?”
Su Yan, struck by how husky and magnetic his voice had become — so unlike his usual grave restraint — felt his heart lurch at the contrast. Whimpering, he replied, “Your Majesty’s already smacked my backside swollen. What more punishment could there be?”
The emperor opened his eyes, gaze dark and deep. “Do you want to keep receiving punishment?”
“…It was this minister’s reckless mouth. Best not to accept any other punishments.”
Though the dragon-root in his hand had spilled, it had not softened much, still half-hard, unsated. Su Yan, uneasy, tried to rise with the soiled handkerchief — but the emperor pressed him back by the shoulder.
The emperor took the filthy cloth, went to the brazier, and tossed it into the fire. Then he personally carried over a copper basin of fresh water from the rack, setting it down for him to wash.
After rinsing his hands, Su Yan couldn’t help but lift them to his nose, thinking he still caught a trace of the emperor’s essence.
The emperor laughed, washed as well, and scolded in mock anger, “My scent — and you dare disdain it?”
Su Yan shook his head at once. “I wouldn’t dare! It is Your Majesty’s gracious rain and dew.”
“Since it is my gracious rain and dew, next time you should swallow it all.”
Next time? Swallow… which kind of swallow? The more Su Yan thought, the more his scalp prickled. He quickly straightened his robes and crown and excused himself: “Your Majesty has been busy all day. In another hour you must hold court again — please rest a while. This minister should also return home to prepare for the audience.”
The emperor said lightly, “Tomorrow I intend to be lazy. I won’t attend court.”
Su Yan was startled. Emperor Jinglong, famed for diligence, skipping court without reason — more unbelievable than rain of red from the heavens. And now, with the gunpowder depot explosion still fresh, countless matters awaited judgment. How could this work-obsessed ruler put them aside?
The emperor arched a brow. “You also find it improper? Then let’s delay the morning court until noon. As for you — you’ll stay here in the Yangxin Hall. At dawn I’ll have men send you out of the palace.”
Su Yan grew more uneasy. His heart still fretted over Shen Qi, who had left in resentment. What if he returned to the Su residence and found him missing — what chaos might break out? Again he bowed and pleaded, “Though the Yangxin Hall is outside the inner palace, it is still improper for an outer minister to stay overnight here. Tongues will wag.”
The emperor replied, “The Yangxin Hall is not only my resting place, but also where I handle affairs of state. In urgent times, the grand secretaries themselves have held deliberations here through the night. There is no impropriety.”
Still Su Yan wanted to leave, bowing stubbornly in request.
“Besides,” said the emperor, “the palace gates are already locked. To open them in the night would require summoning the Keeper of Keys and the guards, causing a stir far louder than if you simply stay till morning and slip out quietly.”
At this, Su Yan faltered.
The emperor went to sit before the dressing table. “Come here, do my hair.” After bathing earlier, his long hair was loose, now dry, but not yet dressed.
Su Yan was hopeless at handiwork — he could wrap a zongzi into the shape of a phallus, and he couldn’t even manage his own topknot neatly. How could he possibly arrange another’s? He hurriedly tried to decline.
The emperor refused to allow it.
Left with no choice, Su Yan took up the small comb. He fumbled left and right, failing several times, undoing it again, even yanking out dozens of strands of dragon-hair. At last he managed something resembling a knot, fixed it with a pin, and finally sighed in relief.
The emperor endured the whole process in silence. At the end he asked, “Did you see any white hairs?”
Su Yan froze. “No.”
“Truly none?”
…Old man, why so sensitive about this? A single careless remark, and he was still brooding over it. Su Yan tossed the comb aside, wrapped his arms around the emperor’s shoulders from behind, half-laying against his neck, and laughed: “Truly none! Your Majesty is only thirty-six this year. No white hairs, no wrinkles — still very young!”
“Half of life has already passed,” the emperor sighed. “Though one’s life may not reach a hundred years, we often carry the burdens of a thousand.”
Su Yan picked up the line: “The days are short and the nights long—why not hold up a candle and wander?”
“Take joy while you may—how can you wait for it to come again?” The emperor reached back, gently caressing Su Yan’s cheek. “Qinghe, hurry now. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
In that instant, Su Yan’s eyes brimmed with tears.
At the break of dawn, before first light, the palace gates began to open one by one.
Su Yan left discreetly in a small sedan chair through the Donghua Gate. By the time he transferred to a carriage and returned home, the eastern sky had only just begun to pale.
Xiaojing was curled up on a lounge chair in the gatehouse, dozing as he waited for his master. Xiaobei was already in the kitchen making breakfast—whether Su Yan came home or not, breakfast always had to be ready.
Feeling pity for the two young boys, Su Yan took off his cloak and gently draped it over Xiaojing, then quietly slipped into the kitchen in search of food.
On the stove, a steamer full of buns had just finished cooking—stuffed with scrambled eggs, vermicelli, and minced meat. Su Yan hurriedly washed his hands, grabbed a piping-hot bun, and shifted it between his hands as he blew on it and took bites.
Xiaobei walked in carrying a few warm eggs. Seeing the scene, he laughed, “Master, you’re back! Hungry, huh? Careful, it’s hot.”
“You made these buns? Not bad… just a bit dry. Where’s the water?”
“Don’t drink water, drink soup.” Xiaobei quickly ladled a bowl of seaweed and egg-drop soup and handed it over. “Shall I bring it to your room?”
Su Yan waved him off, staying at the kitchen counter, eating two buns and half a bowl of soup before his hunger finally settled. He asked, “Did anyone come by last night?”
“No, I didn’t hear anything. But it was Xiaojing on gate duty—I’ll go ask him,” Xiaobei said.
Speak of the devil, Xiaojing stirred awake the moment breakfast was done, instinctively drawn by the smell. He rushed into the kitchen and, seeing Su Yan, exclaimed in relief, “Master, you’re finally back! You were summoned to the palace last night, I worried all night that something had gone wrong—being close to the emperor is like—”
“Like being close to a tiger! Got it. You say that all the time. People might think you’re some court official or a eunuch who’s served in the palace, the way you go on,” Xiaobei quipped bluntly.
Xiaojing pouted. “It comes from the heart! Unlike you—your family were all farmers who fled to the capital after a flood. My family, on the other hand, was implicated in a major case. The emperor himself ordered our assets seized. Some were exiled, some sold off. Why can’t I be a little emotional?”
“That was over ten years ago. You weren’t even born yet—it’s all hearsay. I advise you not to talk about it so openly. If someone gets the wrong idea and thinks Su-daren keeps a resentful criminal in his house, you might get him in trouble for no reason.”
“You—what kind of talk is that? Of course I don’t want to drag the master into anything. I just feel sad sometimes about my parents, whom I’ve never even met. What’s wrong with venting a little?”
“Alright, alright, enough. Stop arguing and eat your buns.” Su Yan smoothed things over, stuffing two buns into each of their hands. “In the future, if you’ve got things you shouldn’t say publicly, just close the door and say it indoors. No need to quarrel over such petty things. You kids are a handful.”
“I’m not a kid!” the two thirteen-year-olds protested in unison.
Xiaobei quickly straightened his expression and resumed his composed, housekeeper-like demeanor. He turned to Xiaojing and said, “Master was just asking—did anyone come by last night?”
Xiaojing, chewing on his bun, replied, “Yeah. Lord Shen came knocking, holding a jug of wine… Oh, and he had two guards with him—the same two who delivered the imperial summons.”
“Why didn’t I hear anything? And then?”
“I told him master wasn’t home and promised to pass along the message. Not long after, I opened the door again to check, and he and the two guards were gone. The wine jug was left outside, so I brought it in and put it in the gatehouse.”
That damned Shen Qi—he even went and bought wine. Did he seriously plan to get drunk and send himself off to Yu Wang’s manor? Su Yan ground his teeth in frustration, even knowing that was unlikely. “Did he say where he was going?”
“Nope. He didn’t tell me, and I didn’t hear him mention it to the guards either,” Xiaojing answered.
Su Yan put down his soup bowl. “I’m going out.”
Xiaobei quickly asked, “Master isn’t going to court this morning?”
“It’s been pushed to noon. I might not come back for lunch.” Su Yan walked off without looking back.
Xiaojing called after him, “Master! Don’t forget your cloak—it’s on the back of the gatehouse chair! Thank you, Master!”
Su Yan went to the stable, fetched his usual gentle white horse, and had just reached the main street when a team from the East City Military Command came galloping up. At the lead was the newly appointed commander of the Eastern District, Yu Jisong.
—A side note: the previous commander, Shi Lezhi, had been dismissed and charged last year for dereliction of duty and abusing the people. But Su Yan knew the real reason was that Crown Prince Zhu Helin had accused him of being a household servant of Marquis Wei Jun. Of course, Shi Lezhi had his own dirty secrets too, so he couldn’t really blame the crown prince for taking him down.
“Commander Yu, has something happened in the East City?” Su Yan called out.
Recognizing Su Yan, the Right Shaoqing of the Dali Temple, Yu Jisong immediately pulled his reins and cupped his fists. “Greetings, Lord Su.”
“There has indeed been an incident,” he said, riding a little closer and lowering his voice. “There was a fight in the Eastern Market last night. Several rooftops and doors were damaged—no idea who did it, but the destruction was considerable. When my men inspected the scene, they found an unconscious man wearing imperial-issued flying fish robes nearby—seriously injured.”
Su Yan’s expression changed. “Imperial flying fish robes? Who was it?”
“From the Northern Bureau of Surveillance—Shen Tongzhi, Lord Shen.”
Can’t wait until next week to see more? Want to show your support? Come to my Patreon where you can get 5 or more chapters of The Reincarnation of a Powerful Minister right away ! Or go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! :)
