Fu Ye felt like he shouldn’t have said anything about missing him.
But the truth was—he really had missed him. So much.
Just seeing Fu Huang now, pale and sickly, brought up a rush of emotion he had to fight to hold back. That ache inside—it was hot, surging up and spilling over before he could stop it.
There was longing. There was love. And there was that helpless heartache, that fierce, uncontrollable urge to throw his arms around him.
He had never been someone ruled by logic. And now, looking at Fu Huang like this, logic didn’t mean a damn thing anymore. He couldn’t even remember what it was supposed to feel like.
Forget it. Fu Huang wasn’t completely blind to his feelings anyway. Why bother pretending?
Though, after hearing him say those words, the emperor seemed to fall into a long, heavy silence.
Just then, Eunuch Qin came in, personally offering tea with both hands.
Fu Ye asked, “Royal Brother, you’re still drinking tea at this hour?”
Eunuch Qin quickly replied, “As per the prince’s instructions, His Majesty only drinks spring water now.”
Fu Ye didn’t care for tea. Usually, he drank either honey water or plain water. He was always lecturing the palace staff about the benefits of drinking plain water. But in the palace, everyone loved tea—Empress Dowager included. For the people of Great Zhou, tea was a kind of beauty, a part of their culture. Many of them could drink tea even in the middle of the night without it affecting their sleep.
But others were one thing—he absolutely forbade Fu Huang from drinking tea, and Fu Huang listened.
Eunuch Qin served him a cup of honey water, then lowered his hands, tray in hand, and asked, “The palace gates have already been locked for the night. Your Highness won’t be leaving, will you?”
Fu Ye pressed his lips together and said nothing.
Eunuch Qin took it upon himself to decide for them. “His Majesty and the Prince haven’t seen each other in so long. Naturally, they’ll want to talk through the night by candlelight.”
As he spoke, he glanced at Fu Huang.
Your Majesty, don’t try to put on a brave face!
The emperor clearly couldn’t keep it up anyway. After all, it had been a month since he’d seen the prince.
He simply said, “Set up a bed for Prince Huan in the main hall.”
Eunuch Qin hesitated. “…In the main hall?”
Fu Huang lowered his gaze slightly.
Eunuch Qin hurried off to see to it.
Suddenly, Fu Huang asked, “Have you been drinking?”
Fu Ye gave a soft “oh,” clearly feeling guilty.
He remembered he’d once promised Fu Huang he wouldn’t drink anymore.
“Just a little,” he said.
Fu Huang didn’t call him out on it, just asked, “Where were you drinking?”
That made Fu Ye feel even guiltier. He really had let himself go today. He’d had a bit of Peach Blossom Wine at his own manor, then some Fresh Spring at Lotus Pavilion, and when he reached Bright Moon Bridge, he’d seen someone selling coconut wine and had two more cups.
In fact, over the past month, he’d been drinking quite a bit. His tolerance had grown, but despite trying to get drunk a few times, he never really succeeded.
At first, it was just to show off with some handsome young men to catch Fu Huang’s attention. But now, facing the sickly, worn-out Fu Huang, he only felt regret. Seeing Fu Huang like this made his heart ache. He didn’t want to upset him anymore, so he just muttered, “Out somewhere.”
Fu Huang didn’t press him further.
Fu Ye awkwardly said, “Your humble brother will go bathe and change first.”
Fu Huang watched him leave, the hem of his robe trailing a faint fragrance. After not seeing him for a month, Fu Ye’s figure looked even slimmer, and somehow his looks seemed even more strikingly beautiful.
That couldn’t just be his lovesick imagination, could it?
He thought of how Fu Ye must have looked while drinking—how many wolves’ hearts that must have stirred. He knew well the names of those who spent the most time around Fu Ye.
Fu Ye went to the bathhouse to wash and change.
Eunuch Qin personally came to assist and said, “Your Highness’s clothes seem to have been put away somewhere—we can’t find them at the moment. Would it be alright if you wore His Majesty’s clothes?”
Fu Ye nodded. “Anything’s fine.”
Eunuch Qin placed the clothes behind the screen.
Fu Ye lay in the bath for a while, his hair floating on the water.
By now, the wine haze was completely gone. His whole body felt hot, like he was in a dream.
When he finished bathing, he walked over stark naked.
The steam had left his skin flushed all over. The air was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs—it was clear Fu Huang often took medicinal baths. When he picked up the clothes, he suddenly realized that what Eunuch Qin had said about His Majesty’s clothes… included the undergarments.
He froze for a moment, not daring to think whether these clothes were new or had been worn before.
Because he couldn’t tell just by looking.
And Fu Huang loved to make him wear clothes Fu Huang had already worn.
Fu Huang’s outer robe was already too big on him. At least if he layered it over other clothes and cinched it at the waist, it would sort of fit. But the undergarments were another story. Even though Fu Huang was thin, his frame was much broader, and he was a good deal taller.
Fu Ye put on the under-robe and pants, and as soon as the fabric touched his skin, he felt a slight reaction. His mind couldn’t help but wander — all he could think was that maybe Fu Huang had worn these before, that they had clung to his body…
Ahhhh.
He really hadn’t changed a bit.
Love had either changed him, or maybe just set him free. All the longing he’d bottled up over the past month seemed to coil around him in the steamy air. He hurried to pull on the rest of the robes, trying to wrap up his restless heart along with them.
With Qingxi not around, he didn’t really know how to make the robes fit neatly. He just wrapped them around himself any which way, thinking that tonight, sharing a room with the man he loved most, he absolutely couldn’t make any mistakes.
For a moment, he actually felt nervous — but also happy. Once he was dressed, he stepped out of the bathhouse. A red-robed eunuch was already waiting outside to escort him straight to the main hall of Qingyuan Palace.
As he walked through the courtyard, he noticed the big planters still held the peonies that had always been there. But now, the blooms were long gone; only the lush green leaves remained.
Shuangfu stood at the palace doors, hands tucked inside his sleeves.
It felt like the moment he stepped back into the palace, the weight of duty fell back on him. Shuangfu kept his head down, careful and respectful.
Inside the main hall, eunuchs kept coming and going, busy tidying up. Honestly, Fu Huang’s red-robed eunuchs weren’t mute, but they weren’t much different from the secretariat clerks — they rarely spoke or moved unnecessarily, like lifeless puppets. Seeing them bustling around now felt strangely unfamiliar.
He thought: It’s just setting up a place for me to sleep beside the dragon bed. Does it really take this long?
When he stepped inside, the bedchamber felt even more empty than before.
There was no warmth, no sense of anyone really living there. Even the bitter scent of medicine was faint.
Next to Fu Huang’s dragon bed, they’d placed a narrower huanghuali wood couch, screened on three sides with mica panels inlaid with gold and silver designs of flowers and birds of the four seasons. The couch was piled with three layers of soft quilts, the topmost a gauzy one patterned with vermilion phoenixes carrying sacred herbs. At the corners hung silver filigree incense burners, filling the air with his favorite “Spring Message in the Snow” fragrance.
When he glanced at Fu Huang’s dragon bed, it seemed almost too plain in comparison.
The whole setup felt more like the sleeping arrangement for a favored concubine kept close at hand.
That thought made Fu Ye’s heart burn even hotter.
“Your Highness, please wait here for now,” Eunuch Qin said. “His Majesty just went for his medicinal bath. It’ll be a while.”
Fu Ye nodded and sat down on the couch. The robes he wore were far too large, pooling loosely around him on the cushions.
It only made him feel even more like a concubine waiting to be summoned.
Every so often, more eunuchs came in and out, moving things beyond the screens. Eunuch Qin personally supervised, speaking in a low voice.
Shuangfu came in and began fanning his hair dry. “I just went to look for Qingxi, but I couldn’t find him. No idea where he’s on duty now. I asked Changlu, but he didn’t know either.”
Speaking of Qingxi—he should have recovered from his illness by now, but he hadn’t left the palace for the prince’s manor. Most likely, he’d gone back to serve Fu Huang.
Just then, Eunuch Qin came back in, and Fu Ye asked, “Where’s Qingxi?”
Eunuch Qin replied, “His illness was quite severe this time. On and off, it’s been over a month and he’s still not well. I was worried he might spread the sickness to others, so I had him sent to a country estate. Last I heard, he’s doing much better.”
He smiled and added, “It’s a blessing for him that Your Highness still thinks of him.”
Fu Ye smiled back. “Shuangfu’s the one who’s always thinking of him.”
Qingxi had always been the most capable of the attendants around him — meticulous, reliable, and, more importantly, literate. That last part made him even more valuable, especially when helping with reading and study.
Eunuch Qin said, “Shuangfu’s looking a bit plumper.”
At that, Shuangfu flushed and lowered his head, quietly fanning without a word.
Fu Ye said, “You’ve gotten a lot thinner, Eunuch Qin.”
“Your Highness being away has been hard on this old servant.”
And with that, Fu Ye began asking him about Fu Huang’s health.
Eunuch Qin quietly gave a detailed report, only leaving when an attendant outside called for him. Through the screen, Fu Ye could hear him scolding in a low voice: “The prince is already here—what do you need his clothes for? No need!”
Fu Ye bit his lip.
Did Fu Huang… still wear his clothes now?
When he’d left back then, he hadn’t dared take a single piece of Fu Huang’s clothing with him, afraid it would anger him. But after much hesitation, he had left all of his own clothes behind.
Including… his undergarments.
Ahhh, what was he even imagining right now? He was being ridiculous, so full of himself!
As if Fu Huang would ever… would ever wear his underclothes.
Fu Huang probably thought everything about him was filthy beyond belief.
That night, Fu Huang’s medicinal bath took even longer than usual. When he finally emerged, Eunuch Qin came to help him dress.
Fu Huang’s figure was still tall and imposing—but it was his height, his broad frame, that gave that impression. In truth, he was thinner than ever, his whole body seeming to be made of hard, unyielding bone. Qin’s heart ached at the sight. “Now that His Highness has returned to the palace of his own accord, Your Majesty can be at ease again,” he said softly.
Fu Huang said nothing.
At this point, Eunuch Qin no longer tried to persuade the emperor of anything. He knew that given how things were, Fu Huang’s decision to send the prince back to his manor had meant treating him as just an ordinary brother. This one night together—if it brought His Majesty any comfort, if it eased his mind, if it was good for his health—then that was enough.
He accompanied Fu Huang back to the bedchamber. The faint scent of “Spring Message in the Snow” filled the air—the fragrance of winter’s depths just before spring’s arrival. Fu Ye had once blended this fragrance anew himself; amid its floral and fruity notes was a touch of coolness, making it perfect for both summer and winter. In that familiar scent, Fu Huang stopped outside the curtain, and through the gauzy veil, he could just make out a soft golden glow beyond the screens.
Eunuch Qin draped a bright yellow cloak over Fu Ye’s shoulders. Fu Ye’s hair was loose, black as ink, falling over the fabric. Even against such vivid robes, he outshone them, more dazzling than the garment itself.
He was breathtaking.
Fu Huang stood quietly in the shadow beyond the curtains, watching him.
He truly was even more striking than before. Fu Huang couldn’t say exactly what had changed—just that the tilt of his eyes, the curve of his brows, now held a lush beauty that hadn’t been there before. His whole being seemed touched with a delicate flush, like cherries dusted in new snow.
Fu Huang couldn’t help but wonder what had brought about this subtle change. If his spies hadn’t been watching Fu Ye so closely, he’d almost have suspected Fu Ye had found someone.
Fu Ye felt hot—he wasn’t sure if it was his body or his heart that was burning.
In this chamber he had visited so many times before, the long wait made him feel as if he’d fallen into some unreal dream. When he saw Eunuch Qin part the curtains and Fu Huang, cloaked, appear before him, he immediately sat up straight.
Fu Huang wore a snow-white inner robe beneath a black cloak draped over his shoulders.
His frame seemed even starker now. When they’d first met again, he’d looked thinner than Fu Ye remembered — almost gaunt. But now, after the medicinal bath, he carried a new air of resilience, like a man tempered by hardship, matured into a sharper, steadier emperor.
He seemed more grounded, and there was a faint hint of something shadowy about him — as if touched by the underworld.
Fu Ye thought, Even if he’s a shadowed, brooding emperor, I love him. I love him no matter what.
He wanted to look, but didn’t dare stare. All he could manage was a soft, “Brother Emperor.”
Shuangfu immediately stood, holding a round fan at the ready.
Fu Ye asked Eunuch Qin to have the four silver incense burners on his bed removed and replaced with the medicinal incense he had once blended for Fu Huang. “I prefer this scent,” he said.
Truth was, he couldn’t sleep these days without burning a stick of that bitter medicinal incense at his bedside. The smell of it had soaked into his bones.
They’d said they would sit up late and talk by candlelight, but now that they were here, the familiar ease between them felt a little strained. In the past, they’d had long conversations like this before. Back then, his heart had been light and untroubled. He could go on and on to Fu Huang about anything—one moment talking about his lessons, the next about some new dish he wanted to try cooking. His thoughts always bounced around, full of whimsical chatter.
Fu Huang had mostly been the listener, quiet by nature.
But now, it was different. Fu Ye’s heart felt tight and restless, a strange mix of longing and unease he’d never known before. There was nothing left to say. Qin spoke a little, here and there, before quietly helping them settle in for the night.
He helped Fu Huang remove the black cloak. The weather was warmer now, so the emperor wore only a robe of thin, soft gauze for sleeping, the fabric light and clinging to his body. From where he sat on the huanghuali couch, Fu Ye couldn’t help but glance over and catch the clear outline beneath.
And in that fleeting, dazed moment, he thought: He’s thinner, but it makes the rest of him look… bigger.
When it came time to remove his own outer robe, Fu Ye’s face flushed deep red.
He had no idea whether Fu Huang noticed.
Fu Huang, of course, noticed everything.
He’d noticed the robe Fu Ye was wearing the moment he saw it.
It wasn’t like Fu Ye hadn’t worn his cloaks before. The sight only stirred a faint, wistful feeling now.
But what he hadn’t expected was that, beneath the cloak, Fu Ye was wearing his underclothes.
And underclothes weren’t like outer robes — Fu Huang preferred his well-worn, softened with use, because they fit more comfortably. His underrobe had a dragon pattern embroidered in gold thread, subtle against the fabric. Now, that coiling five-clawed golden dragon, which usually rested against his own chest, stretched across Fu Ye’s collarbone.
Fu Huang’s gaze shifted to Eunuch Qin.
Qin hadn’t done it on purpose.
The prince had bathed — naturally, he would need fresh clothes, inside and out.
If he could wear the outer robe, why not the undergarments too?
Surely the emperor wouldn’t mind.
Qin smiled as he gently snuffed out two of the lamps. “Your Majesty, Your Highness — rest well. This old servant takes his leave.”
That underrobe turned what had already been a heavy silence into something absolutely stifling.
So quiet. Far too quiet.
They hadn’t seen each other in so long. They should’ve talked deep into the night. But this unnatural silence felt like a slow, winding fire, and it was setting Fu Ye ablaze.
He could smell the familiar bitter scent of the medicinal incense. He was wearing Fu Huang’s underclothes — he hadn’t done anything, but just the thought of it, just that bitter scent in the air, seemed enough to intoxicate him.
He loved him too much. A whole month — he’d held back for so long. Now, with the clothes of the man he loved so deeply clinging to his skin, clothes that had once been pressed to that man’s body — that thought alone made him burn. Even the ache in his heart over Fu Huang’s gauntness twisted itself into an unstoppable, aching love. Shame flooded him. All he could do was lie there, frozen, because even the slightest movement made the fabric rub against the flush of his chest, making him feel even more feverish with longing. His heart was on fire with it — this need to pour his own life into Fu Huang’s, to revive him, to nourish him. If warmth could pass between them through the touch of skin, he’d gladly lay himself over him, give him everything.
Fu Ye turned his head, overwhelmed by this wave of emotion, and his eyes sought out Fu Huang in the dimness. He saw his arm lying across the blanket — those slender, sinewy fingers, the prominent joints, looking dry and cool in the faint light.
Fu Ye curled up, legs pressed together, pulling the brocade blanket up over half his face.
That night, the two of them didn’t speak a single word.
Only the scent of bitter medicine filled the air.
He drifted off at last, half in dreams. Then suddenly, he woke. His head sank deep into the soft silk pillow, and through the haze he saw — or thought he saw — Fu Huang standing at the foot of his bed.
Wearing only that white inner robe, standing there in the shadows, just staring at him.
That gaze — dark, heavy, twisted — felt like it was burning right through his blanket, searing his skin.
His heart pounded wildly before he realized: this was real.
He shut his eyes. After a while — he didn’t know how long — Fu Huang was still there, just standing beside him, watching him.
Like a sleepwalking dragon.
And he thought: Fu Huang’s feelings for me are twisted too.
They’d never had anything like normal brotherly affection.
And if that was the case — why pretend anymore? All this effort to keep up appearances had only led them both to ruin. Maybe it was time to burn the bridge, choose a different path.
He couldn’t bear the idea of living apart from him any longer, of watching him waste away from afar, unable to care for him.
So he rolled onto his side, kicked the blanket away. Maybe the sight of his dark hair spilling down his back would tempt a man as broken as Fu Huang.
He was wearing Fu Huang’s underrobe, the candlelight flickering over it, making it look as though a golden dragon coiled around his body.
What lay between them wasn’t just about whether they loved each other. There was propriety, reputation, the Empress Dowager, the ministers — a thousand obstacles standing in their way.
But… if no one ever found out, then this secret wouldn’t drag Fu Huang down, would it?
Fu Huang wouldn’t have anyone else anyway. Better to have him than to be alone in this cold, empty palace. Wasn’t being with him better than this?
He would give him a different kind of warmth.
He would care for him, love him — pour all of his love into Fu Huang’s parched, lonely life.
And surely, even if he went too far — Fu Huang wouldn’t have the heart to punish him too harshly.
After all, this was the man who had fallen ill just from sending him out of the palace.
That thought pushed him over the edge. His heart was burning out of control now.
I’ll cling to him. I won’t let us be apart ever again. I’ll follow my emperor, even if it means being a twisted prince.
And once he threw away his conscience, embraced the darkness — the path ahead seemed wide open.
Fu Huang stared at Fu Ye’s back.
He was too beautiful.
That thin underrobe clung to him — he was slender, yes, but his delicate frame wasn’t bony or harsh. His waist curved gently, his hips narrow and small, rounding in a way that drew the eye.
There was something unspeakably tempting about him, something that made Fu Huang think of that night Fu Ye had been drunk, clutching at his chest, looking wanton and lost.
Fu Huang tore his eyes away.
Only when Fu Ye sensed him leave did he dare peek over his shoulder.
Outside, the night was still pitch black. But there was no sleep left in him.
And then that dark little voice inside him whispered: Your thoughts are filthy. Terrifying.
“Yes,” he answered. Help me go all the way.
The voice said, This is exciting. I’ve never helped someone do something so wicked.
The two of them began plotting.
Fu Ye thought to himself — he really was like one of those wicked, lewd villains straight out of some old pulp novel.
And Xiao Ai? She was like his ghostly sidekick, his demonic little henchman.
“First, let’s establish something: Fu Huang’s not exactly normal when it comes to feelings.”
Fu Ye agreed. “Way beyond normal. His possessiveness over me is off the charts.”
“Exactly. So even if he’s straight, there’s a chance he could still end up feeling that way about you.”
Fu Ye muttered, “I’m going to hell.”
“Next point. Let’s break down the challenges you’re facing. You’ll probably have to guide him — make him more aware that you’re, you know, into men — and that this is just who you are. No changing it.”
Fu Ye’s eyes lit up. “That makes sense.”
“Then, even if he does develop feelings for you, there’s the big wall of morality. You’re his brother. That’s a massive line he won’t want to cross. And on top of that, you two are under the eyes of the whole world. The pressure’s enormous. Don’t forget — his parents’ messed-up relationship already left him scarred by these kinds of things.”
Fu Ye wilted. “…Maybe I should just give up.”
“What happened to throwing away your conscience? You wanted to be bad — bad people have more fun.”
Fu Ye whispered, “But I love him too much. I don’t want him to suffer.”
“He’s already suffering. The way he’s going, he’s going to waste away and die. The most important thing is for him to know: you’re a fraud. You’re not really his brother. That’ll take the weight off his mind.”
“But just saying it — would he even believe me?”
“That depends on how you say it. When you wanted to be a prince, it wasn’t enough just to claim it — they had to vet you up and down. Same goes for stepping down. Saying you’re not doesn’t make it so.”
Fu Ye clenched his fists. “The key is to mean it. Truly mean it.”
“You’re ready to give him half your life. How much more sincere do you need to be?” Xiao Ai clicked her tongue. “Young people in love — it’s always life and death with you lot. Scary stuff.”
And yes, Fu Ye thought. His heart right now was full to bursting with love and longing. Seeing Fu Huang so thin, so hollowed out — it really did feel like life and death.
