Chapter 5
Fu Ye’s legs went weak with fear. The court adjudicator collapsed in front of him, her arms trembling slightly, then straightened her spine and knelt upright. “Your Majesty!”
Eunuch Qin rushed out from the palace. “Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please—this mustn’t happen!”
The adjudicator shoved Fu Ye back. “Your Highness, run!”
Then she turned back, trembling as she faced Fu Huang. But Fu Huang stopped in front of her and let out a low laugh. Fu Ye dropped to his knees and pulled the adjudicator back toward him. He might’ve been afraid to die, but he wasn’t truly someone from this era—he couldn’t just watch someone else die for him.
He didn’t know whether it was the cold or sheer terror, but his body began to tremble uncontrollably, heat rising from deep within. Then—he coughed up blood. A splash of vivid red bloomed across the snow.
Fu Huang stared blankly at the blood.
Fu Ye: “…”
AI assistant Xiao Ai chimed in: “Thank goodness I showed up just in time!”
But seriously, was the blood really necessary?
Fu Ye tilted his head up and looked at Fu Huang. “Are you going to kill me, Brother Emperor?”
As he spoke, he lay down in the snow, revealing the pale, slender curve of his neck. On the nape, right at the bony ridge of his spine, was a small mole—faint, but clearly visible against his white skin.
That mole had once been one of the key signs used to confirm the Sixth Prince’s identity.
It was said there was another one on his chest.
Fu Huang rested his sword on Fu Ye’s shoulder, then touched his topknot with the blade. Fu Ye closed his eyes, forehead pressing against the icy ground.
Oddly, he wasn’t that scared anymore.
Damn it. All those years of effort, just to die like this?
With a flick of the blade, Fu Huang cut through his hairpin. His hair came loose, spilling across the snow like ink across a white scroll.
Fu Huang twisted the hilt slightly and sliced off a length of his hair. “A face like a demon’s.”
Fu Ye: “…”
He raised his head slightly—Fu Huang pressed the sword back against his neck. “Look at me again.”
Fu Ye said, “Your humble brother can treat your headaches. May I give it a try?”
His hair, now uneven, draped messily down his back. Blood at the corner of his mouth made his lips look even redder. His face was narrow, sharply defined, and deathly pale—he truly looked otherworldly.
Eunuch Qin had already dropped to his knees, clutching Fu Huang’s leg. “Please, Your Majesty, calm your anger.”
Fu Huang said nothing. His eyes were unfocused, his whole body radiating exhaustion—as if he were nearing death.
Could he even survive long enough for the next kingdom’s army to reach the capital?
Fu Huang let go of the sword.
His eyes were striking—long, slanted, dark with shadows underneath, holding the lifeless disdain of someone who had already given up on the world.
His hands were long and sinewy, with strong bones and joints tinged with a bruised blue—like the rest of him, faintly discolored with fatigue and sickness.
Eunuch Qin hurried to pick up the sword and held it close to his chest.
The blade was sharp enough to slice through Fu Huang’s crimson robe.
Fu Huang walked away, slow and quiet.
Eunuch Qin whispered to the adjudicator, “Quickly, escort His Highness back.”
But the adjudicator had already collapsed to the ground.
Fu Ye quickly helped her up.
Eunuch Qin climbed to his feet and followed Fu Huang back inside.
The snow on Fu Huang’s feet had melted into water. His toes were long and red with cold, leaving faint wet footprints as he walked.
Inside the hall, not a soul remained—just chaos. The curtains were slashed by sword marks, scraps of silk scattered all over the floor.
Eunuch Qin laid the sword down and prostrated himself.
Fu Huang looked at the trembling eunuch and said, “Once I’m dead, you’ll be free. Why cry?”
Eunuch Qin raised his head, already in tears. “Your Majesty…”
Fu Huang sat down heavily, brow furrowed with exhaustion. “He came back at this time—maybe it’s fate. The Empress Dowager and the others should be pleased.”
He seemed lost in thought, or maybe simply spacing out. He collapsed onto the couch, staring at the torn canopy above him, unmoving.
A voice quietly said, “Your Majesty, the Sixth Prince says he can treat your headaches. Should we let him try?”
Fu Huang let out a cold laugh.
Eunuch Qin also found the whole thing absurd—but at this point, even if it wasn’t the Sixth Prince, even if some beggar showed up claiming he could cure His Majesty’s migraines, he’d take the chance!
He would’ve scoured the entire world for physicians—quacks and charlatans included—if he thought it could help.
Because what if?
Even that tiny sliver of a chance was worth a try.
Eunuch Qin bowed low, sobbing. “This old servant can’t bear to see His Majesty suffer like this any longer. I’m willing to risk everything to recommend the Sixth Prince for treatment.”
Fu Huang stared blankly for a moment, then said, “Well… he is nice to look at. Taking him down to the underworld with me wouldn’t be so bad.”
Eunuch Qin: “……”
But there was no time to worry about that. He immediately scrambled to his feet and rushed out of Qingyuan Palace, straight toward the side hall.
Fu Ye had just lain down. The attendants around him were all pale with fear, silent and shaking. Only Qingxi remained calm, standing by his side and assisting steadily. The imperial physician was checking Fu Ye’s pulse—his hands trembled so badly he nearly couldn’t keep hold of Fu Ye’s wrist.
“I’m fine. Just a bit shaken, that’s all,” Fu Ye reassured them.
He really was fine. It was just that sickly “debuff” Xiao Ai had slapped on him. Scientifically speaking, he just needed to rest and recover a bit.
But just as he finished speaking, Eunuch Qin’s voice rang out:
“Sixth Prince!”
The imperial physician instantly dropped into a bow.
Fu Ye turned his head to look and saw Eunuch Qin kneeling in the doorway. “His Majesty requests an audience with the Sixth Prince.”
The entire hall went dead silent. The servants and attendants turned ghostly pale. The court adjudicator clenched her hands tightly. “I’ve already sent someone to inform the Empress Dowager…”
“His Highness said he could treat His Majesty’s condition,” Eunuch Qin said quickly. “We humbly ask the prince to try.”
Hearing that, Fu Ye stood up.
The adjudicator called out anxiously, “Your Highness—”
“It’s alright. I’ll go have a look.”
He threw on a heavy cloak and followed Eunuch Qin out. As they walked, he asked about the symptoms and how it had started.
Eunuch Qin replied, “The first episode was in the spring of the 18th year of Tianyun. His Majesty was campaigning with the late emperor in Zou Prefecture. I wasn’t with the army at the time, so I don’t know the full details. But the officers said His Majesty went on a night raid ahead of the troops. On the way back, he stayed overnight in a farmer’s house. After returning, he couldn’t stop vomiting and developed a high fever. At first, they thought it was food poisoning—or maybe poison—but the symptoms disappeared after two days. Everyone thought he’d recovered.”
“Then, on the third day, blood soaked the walls of his tent. When they rushed in, they found His Majesty unconscious and delirious, having slaughtered his personal guards. From then on, he started suffering from violent headaches and bouts of madness.”
“No diagnosis from the imperial doctors?”
“They said it was dian gu—a type of Gu curse that causes madness,” Eunuch Qin said grimly.
Fu Ye was taken aback. “If it’s a Gu curse, then there must be a cure—right?”
Eunuch Qin said, “They traced the curse back to that farmer. He confessed that all the men in his family had died in battle, and he resented the Crown Prince—so he poisoned him. The entire household was executed afterward, but by then, the Gu poison had already seeped deep into His Majesty’s body. Since then, he’s suffered from severe chronic headaches.”
Xiao Ai chimed in quietly, “I looked it up for you. According to the Expanded Compendium of Verified Remedies, Gu madness causes splitting headaches and loss of sanity. The symptoms tend to flare up even more after drinking alcohol.”
“Gu poison is often exaggerated or mixed with superstition,” Fu Ye muttered.
“This is a fictional world—who knows what kinds of poisons exist? Real or not, the symptoms are consistent with poisoning. But if the toxins have damaged the nerves too deeply, even a celestial immortal might not be able to cure it.”
Fu Ye’s expression darkened.
He followed Eunuch Qin into the main hall.
The last time he’d come here, he hadn’t dared look too closely. Now, he noticed just how vast and empty the space felt. Things were scattered all over the floor—no one had even bothered to clean up.
Fu Ye tilted his head slightly. Not a soul in sight.
He walked past layer after layer of curtains until he finally caught sight of a group of palace attendants. They were standing stiffly behind a bronze screen, hands folded properly, posture perfect.
Clearly, they hadn’t been given permission to move.
Eunuch Qin looked back at Fu Ye and gestured for him to wait. He stepped forward a few paces and bowed slightly. “Your Majesty, the Sixth Prince has arrived.”
Fu Huang didn’t respond.
Eunuch Qin moved closer. “Your Majesty?”
Fu Ye pressed his lips together tightly. That’s when Fu Huang slowly opened his bloodshot eyes.
Eunuch Qin instantly lowered his voice even more, nearly inaudible. After a moment, he motioned for Fu Ye to approach.
Fu Ye walked forward.
Fu Huang’s eyes were red and full of broken blood vessels. His hair was disheveled. His inner robe had slipped halfway down, exposing a lean, muscular chest.
Only now did Fu Ye notice the claw marks all over him.
They looked self-inflicted—scratches from the pain, no doubt.
Still reeling from his earlier brush with death, Fu Ye was extra cautious now. He behaved more like a physician than a brother. He bowed deeply, then knelt beside the bed.
Fu Huang didn’t move—just stared at him, blank and listless, as if stuck in some deep, soul-draining trance.
Fu Ye reached for his wrist to check his pulse. It was frighteningly weak, almost lifeless, but his body burned with heat, and his skin had taken on an eerie red tint. Fu Ye stood, circled behind him, and knelt once more.
Eunuch Qin watched him carefully.
Fu Ye said, “A cloth and hot water.”
Without a word from Qin, a young servant slipped out. Moments later, they returned with a basin of steaming water and a folded hand towel. Fu Ye washed his hands, wiped them dry, then pressed his cool, slender fingers against Fu Huang’s temples.
The tension in the room was thick. Eunuch Qin looked like he might pass out from nerves. Fu Ye was anxious too. Xiao Ai whispered, “You know massage probably won’t help with this kind of illness, right?”
“It’s the first step. Gotta take it slow.”
He couldn’t just dive in with acupuncture—not yet. Even if Fu Huang allowed it, Eunuch Qin would never approve of something that invasive on the Emperor without permission. Massage might not help much, but it wouldn’t hurt either. At least it could bring a bit of relief.
He needed to earn Fu Huang’s trust, bit by bit.
Xiao Ai muttered, “Honestly, someone like him… it’d be easier to kill him than save him.”
Fu Ye didn’t respond. He lowered his gaze and saw the ridge of vertebrae at the back of Fu Huang’s neck.
Fu Huang didn’t resist. He was like a shell—drained and hollow—too far gone to fight back.
Eunuch Qin knelt beside the bed, watching Fu Ye as he nearly leaned fully against Fu Huang. Neither of them had tied up their hair—it fell loosely around their shoulders. Fu Huang’s complexion was pale and ashen, which only made Fu Ye look even more porcelain-fair by contrast.
He thought to himself, Fu Ye really does have imperial blood. So young, and he just faced death head-on—yet now he’s this calm and collected.
Fu Ye’s fingers were slender and fair, bluish veins faintly visible beneath the skin. He gently kneaded Fu Huang’s temples, slowly moving further back along his scalp. His touch was delicate, clearly practiced.
Fu Huang closed his eyes.
He was simply too exhausted. The illness had drained him to the core. By the time Fu Ye withdrew his hand, Fu Huang had leaned in and rested against his shoulder.
Fu Huang was much larger in build, but Fu Ye didn’t move an inch. He held his weight steadily. Fu Huang’s body radiated intense heat. He seemed to be wearing nothing under that thin robe, and as Fu Ye looked down, he caught a glimpse through the parted fabric—lean, sharply defined abs and a powerful chest.
His body was absurdly fit—brutally strong. No doubt the physique of a tyrant, drawn taut like a bow ready to snap.
Just a bit lower, barely visible beneath the gauzy fabric, was the faint, winding mark of a dragon-shaped birth seal.
Fu Ye’s breath caught. He shut his eyes immediately.
No wonder he’s called the true Son of Heaven. Even asleep, he looks like a god among men.
Then—shouting from outside shattered the moment.
“The Empress Dowager has arrived!”
The sharp announcement jolted everyone. Fu Huang stirred violently, and both Eunuch Qin and Fu Ye jumped.
Eunuch Qin scrambled up, but before he could even speak, the sound of pounding footsteps filled the hall. The curtains were flung open, and in stormed the Empress Dowager.
Zhang, the Empress Dowager, her hair already streaked white, was wielding a sword.
“Fu Huang! Give me back Ye’er!”
Eunuch Qin dropped to his knees. “Your Majesty, the Prince is only here to treat His Majesty’s illness!”
Fu Ye quickly stepped down from the bed. “Mother, I’m fine!”
The Dowager raised the sword, her jewelry clinking sharply with the movement. She motioned for him to come to her.
Fu Huang caught sight of the cold gleam of the blade and suddenly… laughed.
The laugh was terrifying—low and guttural, like it came from the pit of his stomach. His expression twisted into something cruel and eerily beautiful.
He stepped down from the bed barefoot, robes loose around him. The unkempt, predatory look in his eyes made him seem even more dangerous. His sheer size gave him an oppressive, suffocating presence. But the Empress Dowager wasn’t here to argue. She grabbed Fu Ye by the arm, clearly intending to take him away.
She snapped, “I’m taking him with me. You can pretend this child never existed—never show your face to him again.”
Fu Huang moved toward her.
She raised the sword and pointed it straight at him.
He didn’t even flinch. The blade came within inches of his chest, but he walked on as if it weren’t there. The Empress Dowager didn’t budge either.
Just like he thought, Fu Ye mused. Fu Huang is a madman—but the Empress Dowager is no ordinary woman either. Neither of them is going to back down.
Her voice was still thick with fury: “Does Ye’er mean nothing more to you than your other brothers?”
Fu Huang’s expression was cold and aloof. He was tall, and as he looked down, his eyes glinted with disdain. “This is the first time I’ve seen Mother wield a sword—how fitting that you’re pointing it at me.”
Fu Ye grabbed the blade. “Mother, please—”
Everyone around the Empress Dowager dropped to their knees in unison.
No one else dared to disarm her. She couldn’t back down now, but if she actually injured the emperor, things would spiral out of control. Fu Ye judged the moment carefully and tried to take the sword from her—but her grip was fierce. Instead, she lifted the blade higher, aiming it at Fu Huang’s neck.
“You’ve committed more than enough sins already.”
“Then go ahead and kill me,” Fu Huang said coldly. “There’s someone else ready to inherit the throne now.”
He looked at Fu Ye. “What a beautiful little puppet.”
The Empress Dowager’s lips trembled. Then, with a clatter, she let the sword fall to the ground.
Her voice turned glacial—less fury, more executioner’s chill. “If this keeps up, I won’t need to lift a hand. Heaven itself will deal with you.”
A vein throbbed on Fu Huang’s temple.
She took Fu Ye’s hand and turned to leave—until Fu Huang’s voice rang out behind them.
“Fu Ye.”
The Dowager stopped and turned back, gripping Fu Ye’s wrist tightly.
Fu Huang, like a man playing a meaningless game, drawled lazily, “Go ahead. Try stepping outside this palace.”
The Empress Dowager, enraged, pulled Fu Ye tighter. “I’d love to see you try.”
Fu Ye: “…”
Xiao Ai (internally screaming): “Oh my god. You’re stuck right in the middle of an imperial deathmatch! This is so intense and so terrifying!”
Shit.
