The Emperor insisted on personally escorting him home. Of course, Su Yan didn’t dare mention that there were still two lovers—no, a brother and bodyguard—waiting anxiously for him in the carriage behind. He decided to wait until the imperial procession had departed before going to the Shen residence to check on their injuries.
It was nearing noon. On any other day, he would have certainly invited the Emperor to stay for a meal. But now, feeling guilty and afraid the Emperor might insist on pulling his pants down to inspect his wounds, he pretended to be physically exhausted as soon as he entered the house. “I feel quite drowsy, and fear I may behave improperly in front of Your Majesty…”
The Emperor took no offense, merely instructed him to rest well, said he’d send the imperial physician to check in and prescribe some restorative medicine, then rode his carriage back to the palace.
Xiaobei and Xiaojing, who had spent the night in worry and fear, finally saw their master return. They burst into tears and clung to him, only to realize in their panic they had forgotten to heat bathwater.
Su Yan consoled them, “It’s fine. Let’s eat first. You can heat the water slowly afterward. I need to step out to visit someone, and I’ll bring Ah Zhui back with me.”
While the two servants reheated the food, Lord Su used the opportunity to fetch a basin of cold water and gritted his teeth as he quickly wiped his lower body. The water was so cold he decided to skip cleaning internally for now and wait to soak in a tub later.
He rummaged through the medicine cabinet, trying to find some wound powder. But what he found was not for that… particular area. Whether it contained menthol or camphor, the moment he applied a tiny amount, it stung so fiercely that tears sprang from his eyes. He quickly washed it off and settled for changing into clean underwear instead.
The food was ready. Because his rear still hurt and he couldn’t sit on a chair, Su Yan used the excuse of “sitting too long earlier” and stood to hurriedly eat a few bites, then sent his servants to prepare a carriage.
But just as he stepped out the front door, not even on the carriage yet, he saw the Crown Prince racing in on his beloved red-maned horse, with dozens of exhausted attendants chasing behind.
Zhu Helin spotted Su Yan from afar, his eyes lighting up. He didn’t even stop the horse before leaping off, grabbing Su Yan’s arm and checking him over, words tumbling out like rapid fire: “Are you alright? Were you hurt anywhere? Did those assassins torture you after they took you? I’ll avenge you—I’ll skin them alive and tear them limb from limb!”
The intense concern sounded both grim and violent, but Su Yan was still touched. He patted the Crown Prince’s hand and said, “It’s alright. Just a few surface wounds—they’ve already been bandaged. Don’t worry.”
Only then did Zhu Helin breathe out in relief. He wiped sweat from his brow and muttered, “You nearly scared the soul out of me… Last night I wanted to take guards out of the palace to search for you, but the Chief Keykeeper refused to open the gate, waving Royal Father’s decree in my face—that b*stard!”
Su Yan chuckled. “You had the heart to do it. I truly appreciate it.”
“This morning, the moment the palace gates opened, I dashed out. While they searched along the river, I had the Patrol Division seal off the Dashiyong Lane area and comb through it inch by inch. I was attacked there last time—maybe that place is a Seven Kill Camp hideout. You mentioned it before… right, the ‘darkness beneath the lamp.’ I figured maybe they hadn’t taken you out of the city after all.” He sighed in frustration. “Turns out I guessed wrong. You were outside the city. But it was a lucky mistake—we dug up a hidden base at Dashiyong Lane and caught several Void Sect leaders.”
Su Yan said, “That was solid reasoning. If it were me, I’d send two groups—one down the river to draw attention with splashes and bait the pursuers, the other sneaking the captive back into Dashiyong Lane. That’d be safer and buy more time. By the time the pursuers figured it out, the victim would already be chopped into slices and served in hot pot.”
Zhu Helin’s frown disappeared as he laughed and scolded, “Nonsense! Who plans their own kidnapping and dismemberment from the kidnapper’s point of view?”
Seeing the prince not dwelling on failure and instead showing problem-solving skills—and gaining some credit in the process—Su Yan was genuinely pleased.
He was just about to praise Zhu Helin when a sudden chill shot from his spine to his limbs. His body trembled involuntarily, and his mind felt a bit dizzy.
Zhu Helin thought he’d caught a cold. He quickly took off his outer robe and draped it over Su Yan. “Are you alright? Want me to have someone bring a thicker cloak?”
“N-no, I’m fine.” Su Yan pulled the robe tight, teeth chattering. “Probably just caught a chill after falling in the river last night. Some ginger tea should fix it…”
As they spoke, a large squad of imperial guards came galloping toward them. The tall man in front, riding a black steed in golden crown and black robes, looked very familiar.
Zhu Helin’s eyes were sharp. “It’s Fourth Uncle!”
Su Yan turned just in time to see the galloping black horse brush past him. Yu Wang leaned down, stretched out a long arm, and scooped Su Yan onto his saddle, horse and rider soaring off like an arrow, leaving behind a cheerful call: “Farewell, Your Highness!”
Zhu Helin was stunned for a moment, then furious. “How dare he snatch someone from my hands!” He jumped back on his horse and gave chase.
The Eastern Palace guards were once again forced to sprint after him, shouting, “Your Highness, slow down—the ground’s slippery!”
Su Yan’s vision blurred. After a few seconds of dizzying motion, he found himself on the galloping horse’s back.
Yu Wang had one arm around his waist, the other holding the reins. He laughed. “Scared you?”
Su Yan was a bit angry. “What kind of joke is that? I was talking to the Crown Prince! You grabbed me and ran off—it gave me a fright, not to mention the Crown Prince’s pride!”
“Who cares? I don’t even give face to his father,” Yu Wang said. “You were startled for a moment—I’ve been terrified for a whole night and morning, searching the city with my guards. Don’t you think you owe me some compensation?”
Compensate your *ss! Su Yan cursed inwardly. Wedged sideways between the saddle and the horse’s neck, he was stuck in a twisted, uncomfortable position, jostled so much his backside hurt. When he turned his head, he saw Yu Wang’s chest, then his scruffy, unshaven chin. His hair was a mess too—several strands had come loose and fluttered in the wind.
In Su Yan’s memory, Yu Wang had always been a dashing libertine who cared greatly about his appearance. His clothing might not have been the most flamboyant, but it was always richly patterned, and he himself was strikingly handsome and meticulously groomed. Aside from the few days when he’d been tormented and haggard under the spell of Fuyin’s soul-entrancing flute, Su Yan had never seen him looking so disheveled.
But still—he had spent the entire night without sleep, searching for him.
Su Yan subconsciously softened his tone and murmured, “I’m ashamed to have troubled Wangye so much.”
Yu Wang said, “I never should have agreed to let those imperial guards stand watch over you. They’ve been pampered in the palace for too long—at best they parade around on the training grounds or accompany the Emperor at ceremonies. Even the sharpest spear dulls with time. All show and no bite.”
Su Yan didn’t think those guards were as useless as he made them sound. His abduction had happened so suddenly, and Ah Zhui’s martial skills—especially in stealth, ambush, and escape—were exceptional. If it had been any other assassin, the outcome might have been different.
Still, feeling indebted to the prince, Su Yan didn’t argue to defend the guards. Instead, he said, “It was my own carelessness. I didn’t plan thoroughly enough.”
Yu Wang said, “I asked around. Your plan to lure the enemy out wasn’t bad, but you made two mistakes. If this were a battlefield, one wrong move could have cost you everything.”
Su Yan accepted the criticism without resentment. Ever since learning of Yu Wang’s hidden past—how the unrecorded war god had been buried in history—his mindset toward Yu Wang had grown somewhat conflicted.
On the one hand, the man still carried an air of rakish charm, especially when alone with him. His playful instincts seemed deeply ingrained and demanded vigilance. On the other hand, when facing such a legendary figure—someone who had “fought across three thousand miles and held off a million troops with a single spear”—it felt too narrow-minded to judge him by conventional standards of decorum. When serious, he exuded true heroic presence; when not, one could call him wild and unrestrained rather than improper.
Now that they were discussing strategy, the latter sentiment prevailed. Su Yan said sincerely, “I’d like to hear the details.”
Yu Wang replied, “First, you misjudged the enemy’s time and place of attack. Your ambush troops were set too far away. Luckily, none of the assassins were top-tier. If I were leading them, I’d have shot both you and the guard off your horse with a single arrow. You’d never have had the chance to call for reinforcements.”
Su Yan thought to himself: Actually, there was someone top-tier, lying in wait underwater. If Ah Zhui hadn’t held back even after losing control, I’d be dead by now, just like the prince said.
He nodded. “You’re right, Your Highness. What else?”
“Second, once our forces had surrounded the assassins, it looked like victory was in hand. But that’s exactly when things go wrong. If you had martial skill and confidence, you could have stayed to rally the troops. But you’re a frail scholar who can’t even truss a chicken—being reckless was foolish. You shouldn’t have returned to the scene and gotten yourself captured. The enemy seized the king before taking the kingdom.”
Su Yan flushed with embarrassment. Though he admitted Yu Wang had a point, hearing “can’t truss a chicken” for the nth time stung his pride. He muttered, “Who’s the king of thieves, huh? That’s slander. I’ll have to file a formal complaint.”
Yu Wang laughed heartily and, taking advantage of the horse’s bumpy gait, mischievously scraped his rough stubble along Su Yan’s delicate cheek as punishment for speaking contrary to his heart.
Su Yan’s face hurt. His rear hurt even more. The chills from earlier had turned to a burning heat. The wind seemed to cool him a little, but more sweat poured out. His throat felt like it was swallowing sand.
From past experience, he recognized the signs—it was the onset of a fever. And not just a mild one. He’d spike up to thirty-nine degrees within minutes.
Dizzy, Su Yan reached out and grabbed Yu Wang’s sleeve, his voice faint: “I… I don’t feel well…”
Yu Wang had thought his face was burning from shyness. But when he heard those words, he jolted and immediately pulled the reins to stop the horse. Reaching out to feel Su Yan’s forehead, his hand recoiled at the heat.
Su Yan exhaled like he was breathing fire, shivered violently—and then went limp.
Seeing him faint without warning, Yu Wang’s expression darkened. He patted Su Yan’s cheek and called firmly, “Qinghe? Qinghe!”
Zhu Helin finally caught up from behind and exploded: “Zhu Xujing, what did you do to him?!”
Yu Wang had no time to argue with his furious nephew. He turned the horse around and bolted toward the nearest medical hall. He couldn’t yet tell if the fever was from last night’s soaking or the assassins’ attack. He just needed a physician—any physician, right now.
Thankfully, Chen Shiyu’s clinic wasn’t far. Yu Wang and the crown prince raced neck and neck, arriving within a quarter of an hour. At the clinic gate, Yu Wang vaulted off his horse with Su Yan in his arms, kicked off from the saddle, and flew over the wall into the courtyard.
“Master Yu!” he shouted. “Help! He needs a doctor!”
Inside, Chen Shiyu was suturing a patient with catgut thread. He was just thinking how much better it was than mulberry bark thread—praising Lord Su in his heart for being a natural genius in everything from astronomy to medicine—when Yu Wang’s bellow startled him into shaking hands and a crooked stitch.
He had never heard the fourth prince sound so panicked. Alarmed, he called for a disciple to take over the stitching, quickly washed up, and rushed out to see what was going on.
As soon as he lifted the curtain, he saw Yu Wang standing in the courtyard, cradling a man. Then a finely dressed youth came bursting in from the front hall, rushing to check on the same man.
Chen Shiyu thought the man in Yu Wang’s arms looked familiar. He squinted—and gasped. “Lord Su?!”
—
Inside the clinic, the air was thick with the bitter scent of medicinal herbs. Chen Shiyu tucked the sleeping Su Yan into bed, sighed, and walked out of the consultation room.
Yu Wang and the crown prince had been barred from entering earlier and were now pacing impatiently. As soon as they saw him, they were startled by his grave expression.
Zhu Helin asked first, “Doctor, how is Qinghe? Why did he suddenly get a fever and faint?”
Chen Shiyu gave him a searching look, as if suspecting he wasn’t the cause, then shifted his stern gaze to Yu Wang. “Your Highness, a word.”
Yu Wang had never been so shaken with fear before, terrified that Elder Yu might be about to hit him over the head with a fatal diagnosis.
The two of them entered a quiet room. Chen Shiyu frowned and said, “Your Highness, forgive this old man for being blunt, but what you’ve done this time is… truly improper!”
“Me? What did I do?” Yu Wang was stunned.
“I know you’ve been confined in the capital for ten years, harboring resentment and suspecting that His Majesty holds jealousy toward you, so you’ve used the guise of ‘licentiousness’ to defame yourself. But you’ve also said that those affairs were always consensual, never forced.
“But now? Just look at Lord Su—does he look anything like someone who uses his looks to gain favor? Though I’m not intimately acquainted with him, I deeply admire his integrity and character. For Your Highness to treat him this way is like shattering a flawless jade—this old man cannot stay silent!”
Yu Wang looked utterly baffled. “What do you mean I treated him this way…? What jade did I shatter? Elder Yu, you’ll have to speak plainly—what exactly is his condition?”
Chen Shiyu eyed him suspiciously, as though trying to judge the truth in his words. After a pause, he slowly explained, “Lord Su’s unconsciousness and high fever are due to multiple causes—falling into water, shoulder injury—but there is one critical factor: he suffered damage to his shielding membrane, and the internal buildup wasn’t promptly discharged. The resulting complications led to a severe fever.”
Yu Wang turned to stone, crumbling into dust from sheer disbelief.
“His shoulder—you managed to dress and bandage it, which means you cared enough to help. But the other wound? How could you neglect that? And didn’t even bother to clean him up after the act…” Chen Shiyu shook his head, stroking his beard. “You young people these days, really…”
Yu Wang’s eyes were bloodshot, jaw clenched so tight the muscles twisted grotesquely. He squeezed the words through his teeth: “He really… was… treated with…”
Seeing Yu Wang’s complexion shift from blue to purple, his speech becoming incoherent—a sign of internal emotional turmoil—Chen Shiyu quickly massaged his meridian pressure points to soothe him while explaining, “The injury wasn’t too severe, and the medicine used was top-quality from the imperial supply. If Your Highness truly cares for Lord Su, you must never force your will upon him again.”
Yu Wang, panting heavily, slowly regained a thread of calm amid his storming emotions.
His first thought upon hearing all this was that Qinghe had been assaulted by the assassins.
But then Chen Shiyu’s mention of “top-quality imperial medicine” abruptly redirected the target of his rage—
That morning’s court session had ended unusually early. His overly diligent royal brother had rushed to adjourn—why? Could it be he had learned of Qinghe’s location and hurried to meet him? If the emperor had dressed Su Yan’s shoulder wound, why had he not treated the other injury as well?
Was it that Su Yan had desperately concealed the rest for the sake of his reputation? Or… had it happened after he met the emperor?
If it was the latter—then had the emperor deliberately left that wound uncleaned, refusing to remove what he’d left behind, as if branding his possession like a beast?
Yu Wang was flooded with a sickening mix of shock, suspicion, hatred, resentment, and jealousy, all drowned beneath an overwhelming tide of heartache.
“Elder Yu…” His voice was hoarse. “Please keep this matter quiet. Don’t let anyone find out. Especially the crown prince outside—he mustn’t know.”
Chen Shiyu sighed. “Since this concerns Lord Su’s honor, this old man naturally won’t speak a word of it. But, Your Highness, in the future—”
Yu Wang interrupted him. “It wasn’t me.”
“…What?”
“I swear—it wasn’t.”
Chen Shiyu was silent for a moment, then said sincerely, “Your Highness, knowing shame is the beginning of reform.”
Yu Wang nearly coughed up blood. He couldn’t defend himself even with a hundred mouths and had no choice but to accept this undeserved blame in sorrow and silence.
