Jun Huailang naturally wasn’t going to let Xue Yan carry him all the way there.
Their group galloped out of Jinling City. The ride was bumpy, and the two of them were pressed so close together that their breaths and auras became hopelessly entangled.
Jun Huailang’s back was pressed tightly against Xue Yan’s chest. He could hear the other man’s strong, steady heartbeat.
“Xue Yan…” Instinctively, he tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. He could only struggle a little.
Then he heard Xue Yan let out a muffled groan.
Only then did Xue Yan realize that he had brought this suffering upon himself.
He had pulled Jun Huailang onto the horse on a sudden impulse, without thinking things through at all. But once he had him in his arms, he felt that this impulsive decision had been absolutely the right one.
His arms were full of that cool, clean woody fragrance. Xue Yan felt as though every meridian in his body had suddenly been unblocked.
But then the person in his arms moved a little.
It was only a few small movements, and the motions themselves were slight. Yet that faint physical friction, combined with the horse’s bouncing gait, was enough to leave his entire body numb.
Immediately afterward, the blood that had been sluggishly circulating through his meridians surged downward like a breached dam.
No matter how desperately he tried to hold himself back, it was no use.
Something hard and hot pressed against Jun Huailang’s lower back.
With every jolt of the horse, it continued bumping against his back and forth.
As a man himself, Jun Huailang naturally knew exactly what it was.
His ears grew hot.
“Xue Yan!” he hissed angrily.
This time, Xue Yan had no chance to do anything to salvage the situation. The Embroidered Uniform Guards following behind them saw their master, who had been galloping far ahead, suddenly slam on the brakes and rein in his horse.
Everyone hurriedly stopped as well.
Had some urgent emergency arisen? They had never seen anything like this before.
For a moment, everyone tensed up, immediately assuming a battle-ready stance.
Then they watched with their own eyes as…
Their master was kicked off his horse.
Only after their master had fallen did they notice that there was another person on the horse.
The man wore a sky-blue robe, his black hair tied back behind him. They were familiar with him, too. From that elegant, upright silhouette alone, they could tell that it was none other than the astonishingly handsome heir of the Duke of Yongning.
For a moment, the guards exchanged uncertain looks.
They saw the heir dismount as well. Turning around, he spoke quietly to their master.
They couldn’t make out the exact words, but they could vaguely hear the irritation in his voice.
Their master was usually unflappable, always calm and composed. If he could be provoked into looking like this, their master must have done something shameful.
Besides, even the emperor never spoke to Xue Yan in such a sharp, reproachful tone anymore. Their master had a notoriously terrible temper, so surely he wouldn’t take kindly to being scolded by the heir.
…But that wasn’t what happened.
The Guangling Prince they knew—the ruthless, domineering man who made swift and merciless decisions—was now standing in front of the heir with his head slightly bowed, silently accepting his reprimand.
He was practically a different person from the man they knew.
Just then, Jinbao realized that something was wrong. He hurriedly dismounted and jogged over.
He had originally intended to wait at a distance until his master finished being scolded before approaching. But the moment the heir saw him, he called out to him.
“Eunuch Jinbao,” he said. “Could you please prepare a horse for me?”
Jinbao hurriedly agreed.
In front of the heir, there was no need to consult his master’s opinion.
Then he heard the heir continue, “How can you behave so recklessly out in the open, in broad daylight…?”
His master muttered a very quiet retort. “It’s not something I can just control…”
“You…!”
Jinbao immediately pretended to be deaf and hurried away.
However, before he got too far, his gaze involuntarily wandered down toward his master’s lower body.
…Good heavens. It still hadn’t gone down.
That man really did have a raging fire in him.
Jinbao quickly averted his eyes, only to notice the Embroidered Uniform Guards behind him. Although every one of them sat rigidly upright, their faces expressionless as puppets, their eyes were darting around suspiciously, shifting between their master and Jinbao.
Jinbao promptly shot them all a fierce glare.
It was true that the guards were tight-lipped. No matter what happened, there was no need to worry about them letting anything slip.
But what kind of behavior was this? A whole group of people looking so excited and eager for gossip!
——
Xue Yan’s side did not suffer much of a delay, and they soon resumed their journey.
Meanwhile, peace and tranquility reigned in the imperial palace in Chang’an.
As usual, Xue Yunhong was studying with the other princes in Wenhua Hall.
Although he had not yet undergone his coming-of-age ceremony, he was already eighteen by traditional reckoning. Aside from him, the only princes still studying in Wenhua Hall were the Second Prince, who was not favored by their father; the Sixth Prince, who spent his days chasing chickens and teasing dogs; and two younger princes who had only just begun their formal education.
By rights, he could have entered the imperial court last year. Instead, his entry had been delayed until now.
He had committed no wrongdoing, but everyone in the palace knew that his mother, Consort Yi, had been executed by the emperor for having an illicit affair with an astrologer from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.
Under those circumstances, whether he himself had done anything wrong no longer mattered.
For more than a year, he had remained confined to the depths of the palace, watching as Xue Yan won their father’s favor at the very time his own mother died. From then on, Xue Yan had risen steadily through the ranks until he became the most talked-about prince in both the imperial court and the inner palace.
Meanwhile, the woman who had raised him in Mingluan Palace had already enjoyed the emperor’s favor. Now, because of him, she had become even more prominent.
In the past, Consort Shu had been favored but had no children of her own and no one to rely on. Now, she had the Guangling Prince backing her. No one in the entire imperial harem dared show her the slightest disrespect.
And now, Consort Shu had become Noble Consort Shu.
News of Noble Consort Shu’s pregnancy had spread throughout the imperial court and the inner palace. The emperor was overjoyed, greatly elevating her rank and sending a constant stream of gifts to her palace. Everyone said that Noble Consort Shu’s glory for the next several decades was practically assured.
The only question was whether the child in her womb would be a boy or a girl. If she gave birth to a prince, perhaps he might one day compete with the Guangling Prince for the throne.
But whoever the child turned out to be, wouldn’t he still be Noble Consort Shu’s son?
The palace attendants discussed the matter incessantly. They never bothered to avoid Xue Yunhong, either. In fact, after some particularly animated discussion, they would sometimes sneak a glance at his reaction.
After all, before Consort Yi’s affair had been exposed, the Fourth Prince had been the most prominent prince in the palace.
Yet Xue Yunhong had never seemed bothered by it.
He behaved as though he couldn’t hear any of these remarks. Every day, he continued studying diligently, waiting for the occasional occasion when Emperor Qingping would test his knowledge. Even when people discussed the matter right in front of him, he merely smiled and let it pass, remaining so calm and composed that he seemed incapable of jealousy.
The others couldn’t help wondering whether this prince really had such extraordinary self-control. Could it be that he didn’t even care about becoming crown prince?
Naturally, that was not the case.
They saw only Xue Yunhong’s usual serene and studious demeanor. They had no idea how often he tossed and turned at night.
From the time he was little, he had been treated like someone who belonged in the heavens. His mother had taught him that he must always strive for the very best, but never allow anyone to see how desperately he wanted it.
Thus, from childhood onward, Xue Yunhong had excelled in everything, always among the very best, yet he had maintained an air of indifference, as though he cared nothing for recognition and preferred to keep his achievements hidden.
The more he behaved this way, the more Emperor Qingping favored him, and the more benefits he received.
He had known how to conceal his true abilities from a young age.
But now, he had truly fallen from the clouds to the bottom of the abyss.
He knew nothing at all about his mother’s supposed affair with that minor official from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau. Yet he also knew that his mother would never have genuinely become involved with such a man.
He knew better than anyone how carefully she had planned every step and where her ambitions truly lay.
He knew his mother had been framed.
At the same time, however, he had no way to do anything about it.
All he could do was wait, enduring humiliation as he waited.
His father might harbor misgivings about his mother, but that did not mean he would completely extend his displeasure to his son. The more uncomfortable his father felt about the matter, the harder it would be for him to forget that Xue Yunhong was still his son.
So although his father deliberately kept him at a distance, prevented him from entering the imperial court, and generally ignored him, every so often he would find an excuse to summon him, test his studies, and ask him a few casual questions.
Xue Yunhong knew that these were his only opportunities to make an impression.
Therefore, he had never pleaded with his father on his mother’s behalf, nor had he ever complained about his own suffering to Emperor Qingping. When the emperor asked about his studies, he answered fluently. When asked how he was doing, he said everything was fine.
Calm and untroubled, he gave Emperor Qingping no trouble and revealed not the slightest trace of resentment. He simply waited for the emperor to develop a sense of guilt over having punished the son along with the mother.
Sure enough, a month ago, Emperor Qingping could no longer hold back.
“What happened with your mother had nothing to do with you,” he said.
But Xue Yunhong knew that although Emperor Qingping said those words, he was merely trying to persuade himself.
They were not to be taken seriously.
At the time, Xue Yunhong had knelt and bowed his head to the ground.
“My mother and I have always been of one heart. She did indeed commit a transgression, and I have no face to plead with Father Emperor on her behalf. But my life was given to me by my mother. It is only right that I atone to Father Emperor for her. I have absolutely no regrets.”
He knew that Emperor Qingping was susceptible to this sort of thing.
And sure enough, the emperor’s expression softened with reluctance. Afterward, he began summoning Xue Yunhong more frequently.
But then Noble Consort Shu became pregnant.
Xue Yunhong naturally knew how delighted and full of anticipation his father was. His mother had taught him that an emperor’s affection and pity could not withstand the erosion of time. Once you obtained them, you had to exchange them for something immediately. You must never expect his sincerity to last.
Xue Yunhong wholeheartedly agreed.
He remained patient, biding his time.
Until this very day.
His personal eunuch had been carrying messages back and forth between him and the Xu family. And today, another message had arrived.
“Fourth Prince, Chancellor Xu says that General Xu’s troops will be stationed outside Chang’an City in the next few days,” the young eunuch reported. “However… with an army at the gates, it will inevitably look like a rebellion. Chancellor Xu says you must make absolutely sure to distance yourself from the matter and avoid any involvement. Otherwise, when the time comes for you to inherit the throne, your claim will lack legitimacy.”
Xue Yunhong fell silent for a moment.
“Did Grandfather say what method he intends to use?” he asked.
“Of course…” The young eunuch glanced around before lowering his voice. “A palace coup.”
Xue Yunhong let out a low laugh.
“That’s quite a risk,” he said.
The young eunuch replied, “Chancellor Xu says there’s no other way…”
“There is,” Xue Yunhong said.
The young eunuch looked at him in surprise.
Xue Yunhong rose to his feet and walked over to his bed, where he opened a hidden compartment in the wall.
He reached inside and took out a small box.
Inside the box was a packet of powdered medicine. It dissolved instantly in water and left not the slightest trace.
Before his mother died, she had summoned him and instructed him to retrieve it from her cosmetics box. Back when she first entered the palace, the astrologer—who was still a Daoist priest at the time—had given it to her as a means of saving her life.
The poison was colorless and odorless, and impossible to detect through testing. Although it could not completely take a person’s life, it could paralyze all four limbs and rob them of speech, reducing them to a useless shell that could do nothing but breathe.
If Chang’an descended into chaos, there would inevitably be some risk. If the emperor died, the imperial court would fall into complete disorder, and the ministers would certainly insist on enthroning Xue Yan before they agreed to anything else.
But what if the emperor suddenly came down with a strange illness instead?
Then they would have no choice but to find a prince to temporarily take charge of state affairs.
Xue Yunhong smiled faintly and handed the box to the young eunuch.
“I’ll write a letter. Take it to my grandfather,” he said.