Fu Ye thought about how the past couple of days had left him anxious and on edge, his face worn and haggard. He was so tense, he figured even Fu Huang would start worrying if he saw him like this. Now, with Huang Tianyi’s unstoppable momentum, Fu Ye recalled an old saying—that a person’s thoughts could shape their aura, and that aura could affect their fortune.
So no matter what, he had to stay positive. He couldn’t let himself spiral into despair!
At once, he picked out the most striking, regal robe he owned—a bright apricot-colored long robe, embroidered with fiery pomegranate blossoms in threads of pure gold. The red and gold patterns cascaded from the shoulders down to the hem, blazing and jubilant in color.
The sudden clear skies after the rain swept away the gloom, and with the sun glinting off him, His Highness the Prince looked positively radiant. Even the palace servants of Qingyuan Palace felt their spirits lift at the sight.
The sunshine streamed into the hall, making everything gleam. When Fu Huang came in for breakfast and saw Fu Ye, he paused in surprise and said, “You look much better today.”
Yesterday, he’d seemed so listless, curled up against him like a little chick. Today, dressed in splendor, his brows and eyes seemed to glow with vitality.
Fu Ye smiled and said, “I’m in a good mood. I told you—my dreams are always spot on.”
He looked up at Fu Huang as he spoke, and when their eyes met, his ears flushed pink.
Fu Huang asked, “And all you dreamed about was the battle?”
Fu Ye didn’t answer.
Maybe it was the bright light, but looking at Fu Huang today made his heart surge even more.
That morning, lying under the covers, he’d used his own body to trace and memorize Fu Huang’s shape and length. Now, his mind was halfway in the gutter.
If only the realm were at peace right now—they’d probably already be living as true husband and wife.
But with the nation in peril and war looming, those fleeting surges of longing that crept up between fear and duty were almost torturous.
He thought, Fu Huang truly embodied the essence of manhood.
That strength came from his noble birth, his status as Son of Heaven, and his own path—serving in the military as a boy, enduring blood and battle to ascend the throne, unafraid of death, unbothered by the world’s judgment—a man among men, one of the greatest under the heavens.
Ahhh. How did he get so lucky?
His heart swelled with love, mingled with that restless, consuming desire. After breakfast, as he helped Fu Huang change clothes, his ears stayed flushed red the whole time.
Fu Huang asked, “What’s got you so preoccupied?”
Fu Ye looked up, met his gaze, then quickly lowered his head and mumbled, “Nothing.”
Fu Huang gave a quiet laugh and lowered his head, breathing in the scent of Fu Ye’s hair.
And that simple gesture—just breathing him in—had Fu Ye blushing from head to toe. But Fu Huang wasn’t satisfied with just a glance; he gently cupped Fu Ye’s head and took his time, lingering in that fragrance.
Fu Ye, in turn, stole a breath of the faint herbal scent clinging to Fu Huang.
It was bitter, that scent, as herbs always were—the kind that made one think of restraint and purity. Fu Huang’s robes were fresh and immaculate, exquisitely made, but knowing the body beneath—lean, angular, yet brimming with power—that contrast only captivated Fu Ye all the more.
It seemed that even Fu Huang’s sickly thinness and brooding aura had somehow turned into an advantage.
In short, there wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t good. Everything about him made Fu Ye fall deeper.
Not a single flaw.
He embodied everything Fu Ye had ever dreamed of in a lover.
Just then, Qin Neijian came in and caught them in an embrace, quickly turning his eyes away out of respect.
Fu Huang turned his head and asked, “Have they arrived?”
Only then did Qin Neijian report, “Yes, Lord Meng and the others are already in the imperial study.”
“You’d better go,” Fu Ye said, slipping from his arms.
Fu Huang didn’t linger for more affection—he went straight off to his duty.
Fu Ye turned to Qin Neijian and said, “Tell the Secretariat to bring all the memorials over here.”
Qin Neijian thought to himself: Just now His Highness was all soft and tender—‘gentle’ wouldn’t even begin to cover it. But the moment His Majesty left, the prince’s air of authority came right back!
He really did have something of the emperor’s bearing about him.
He went to call in the Secretariat clerks, then quickly started tidying up the sleeping couch in the Spring Morning Hall.
He drew the curtains properly and adjusted the screens, making sure to hide the fact that the couch had two pillows and one quilt.
Better safe than sorry! He was sure the Empress Dowager had her people keeping a close eye.
Once everything was in order, he instructed the palace attendants at Qingyuan Palace’s gate: if anyone came from the Empress Dowager’s residence, they were to report it immediately.
Sure enough, by noon, Grand Palace Steward Sun showed up.
She’d come bearing dishes bestowed by the Empress Dowager.
These days, Qingyuan Palace was bustling, with ministers practically living there. Palace Steward Sun led a small army of lady officials through the ornamental gate and into the Spring Morning Hall.
Even before stepping inside, she spotted Fu Ye and the Secretariat clerks in their red robes, all busy at work.
She stood quietly in the courtyard for a while, watching. When Qin Neijian emerged, only then did she proceed.
“One dish of shredded chicken and bird’s nest soup, one of pheasant breast, and a plate of jewel-like rainbow cakes,” Palace Steward Sun announced. “Her Majesty the Empress Dowager says, though the state is in crisis, His Highness and His Majesty must take care of their health. She sends these dishes for them to share.”
She put special emphasis on the words His Majesty.
Qin Neijian played along perfectly. “Her Majesty is most kind. His Majesty and His Highness are truly blessed.”
When Palace Steward Sun entered and took a good look at the Prince of Huan, she quickly returned to report to the Empress Dowager: “Your Majesty, the prince looks perfectly normal in every way.”
Qingyuan Palace was tight-lipped as ever. Since the prince had moved in, no one really knew what went on inside. But given that the emperor clearly had intentions, and now the prince stayed by his side day after day, she wondered if His Majesty still harbored any improper desires.
“His Highness is currently at the Spring Morning Hall reviewing memorials. I watched him for a while—he’s become quite adept at handling state affairs. His Majesty trusts him deeply, leaving everything in his hands, while His Majesty remains in the imperial study, consulting with his closest generals about the war.”
The two brothers worked in seamless harmony, their trust in each other absolute. If one didn’t already know the emperor once harbored those kinds of feelings for the Prince of Huan, this sight would honestly be heartwarming.
“Now that the war is pressing, His Majesty surely has no room for such thoughts toward His Highness. And seeing how seriously the prince tends to state business, His Majesty must truly hold him in high regard. Otherwise, His Highness wouldn’t be so composed—he would’ve long since run to our palace seeking protection.”
The Empress Dowager felt this was sound reasoning. Her heart settled at last, and she devoted herself fully to fasting and praying for the soldiers on the front lines.
The Great Zhou was on the verge of a new dawn. They absolutely couldn’t let that rebel scum from Great Liang ruin everything.
Fu Huang stayed holed up in the imperial study nearly the entire day.
Together, they’d gone over every one of Huang Tianyi’s victories—large and small.
That man was undeniably gifted—a natural-born military genius, fierce and ambitious to the extreme.
When Fu Huang finished analyzing it all, one truth became clear: commanding from afar wouldn’t cut it.
The capital was simply too far from the front. Even the swiftest imperial edicts would take days to arrive. Most of the burden would fall on the frontline generals—but Fu Huang wasn’t sure any of them were a match for Huang Tianyi.
If Great Liang managed to seize a few key cities and build momentum, their position would become truly perilous.
After all, morale meant everything in war.
The best option was for Fu Huang to lead a campaign himself—take personal command at the front.
Truth be told, the moment he heard about Zuozhou’s fall, he’d realized this. Last night, while holding Fu Ye in his arms, he’d thought it through for a long time.
Today’s analysis only confirmed it. He had to go.
But Meng Xiao and the others strongly objected.
“The situation on the front lines isn’t clear yet, Your Majesty. You can afford to wait. Besides, the capital is a nest of competing interests. If Your Majesty personally leads the army, who will you leave in charge here?”
Fu Huang straightened, his expression solemn. “If I leave the capital, you are to regard the Prince of Huan as if he were me. Have no doubt about it.”
Meng Xiao and the others were stunned.
They were all generals who had rendered great service during the upheaval of Qing Tai, and were trusted confidants of Fu Huang. Just now, their words had subtly hinted that His Majesty should be on guard against none other than Prince Huan, Fu Ye.
“Your Majesty… do you trust His Highness that much?”
Everyone raised their heads to look at the Emperor, only to hear him say, “There is no distinction between him and me—we entrust our lives to each other, come life or death.”
Meng Xiao and the others: “…!!”
They’d known His Majesty favored the prince, but they hadn’t imagined the trust ran this deep!
This was no less than entrusting the vast empire and his own life and fortune to the prince!
After Meng Xiao and his men had taken their leave, Fu Huang returned from the western annex. By now it was evening. Standing in the courtyard, he saw Fu Ye seated beneath the window, reviewing memorials.
Quick-witted as he was, Fu Ye had gotten a firm grasp on state affairs in no time. A red-robed official from the Secretariat sat opposite him, with others dividing the work in an orderly fashion. Shuang Fu had his sleeves rolled up, grinding ink for Fu Ye.
He wondered how Fu Ye would react if he told him. He was about to entrust him with the heavy responsibility of guarding the capital—but could Fu Ye shoulder it?
And yet, if he was to personally lead the imperial army to the front, the only one he could truly trust and depend on was Fu Ye.
If not for Fu Ye, he likely would have already ridden out to the battlefield, heedless of life or death.
But now, because of his attachment, he found himself for the first time clinging to life, unwilling to part with the splendor and comforts of this Spring Court Hall.
He wanted just a little more of this life.
But what he wanted for a moment, he wished for a lifetime.
Only, the price was steep. There was no war that could promise complete safety.
Ah, but how reluctant he was to leave.
He stood in the courtyard for a long time, until dusk had fully fallen and the palace lanterns were lit by Qin Neijian and the others. In the glow from the window, Fu Ye became a living painting.
Only then did he step into the Spring Court Hall.
Fu Ye, seeing him return, asked, “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
Fu Ye immediately ordered Qin Neijian to call for dinner, while he gathered a few important memorials and brought them over.
Fu Huang went to sit on the kang opposite the bed, reclining slightly. His frame beneath the thin robe was like a half-leaning pine tree—sturdy, yet at ease.
Fu Ye placed the memorials on the small table by the kang, then sat down beside him. “Tired, aren’t you?”
Fu Huang gave a soft “Mm.”
Seeing his dry lips, Fu Ye took the honey water Shuang Fu handed over and offered it to him. Fu Huang took two sips, then started reading through the documents.
Having not seen him for most of the day, Fu Ye missed him terribly. He sat quietly leaning against him, fingers secretly rubbing at Fu Huang’s robe.
After a while, Fu Huang called him up.
When the palace attendants came to set the meal, what they saw was the Emperor holding the Prince close while reading memorials.
The prince, who had earlier reviewed those same memorials with such seriousness and dignity, now seemed to have no strength left in him. His legs straddled His Majesty’s waist, his whole body draped over him, arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him sweetly.
He dared to act so intimately—but they dared not even look!
If word of this got out, it would shock the entire nation!
In this world, only the prince could embrace His Majesty like that.
When Fu Huang finished reading the documents, he said, “You’ve done well.”
When Fu Ye saw that supper had been set out, he was about to climb down from Fu Huang’s lap, but Fu Huang tightened his hold on him and said, “Let me hold you a little longer.”
He still didn’t know how Fu Ye would react once he told him.
Fu Ye obediently wrapped his arms around Fu Huang’s neck again and gave a little playful wiggle as he sat on him.
His backside was soft and fit perfectly in Fu Huang’s hands. Fu Huang cupped it, gave it a light pat, and said, “Let’s eat.”
Fu Ye asked him about the latest developments at the front lines, but Fu Huang said, “After we’ve eaten.”
Fu Ye really was hungry today and ate quite a lot. As they ate, he told Fu Huang about how the Empress Dowager had sent dishes to him at lunch. But seeing Fu Huang seemed distracted, he asked, “Is the situation at the front going badly?”
Fu Huang said quietly, “I’m thinking of leading the army myself.”
Fu Ye froze. Even Qin Neijian nearby startled at that.
“No!” Fu Ye said at once.
Fu Huang explained, “We analyzed the situation today. We believe Huang Tianyi truly has military talent. He leads every charge himself, and their morale is sky-high. We don’t know if Yuanzhou can hold. If they take Yuanzhou and Yuanfang, they’ll break into Hebei’s heartland—and it’s flat plains all the way in. Zhang Wei is badly injured, and Li Zhenyue can’t match them. If I lead the army personally, it will lift our troops’ morale, rally the people, make it easier to command, inspire the generals, and give us a better chance of victory when I face him myself.”
But Fu Ye still refused. “No. You can’t go to the front!”
Seeing how strongly he reacted, Fu Huang pulled him into his arms and asked gently, “Are you afraid I won’t win?”
Fu Ye murmured, “…He’s very skilled.”
“So am I.”
Fu Ye knew it was true—when it came to war, he couldn’t match Fu Huang. And any military decision Fu Huang made, he ought to support without question.
Fu Huang wasn’t someone who acted on impulse. And besides, hiding in the capital wasn’t a long-term plan. Lately, as he dealt with Red Lotus Society reports, Fu Ye knew all too well that if Da Zhou kept losing battles, their own people would rise in chaos before long.
But he was so afraid. Afraid this would be farewell for good. Before, the fear had been distant enough he could comfort himself. But now the parting was right in front of him, and it felt completely different.
The road was long and perilous. Once they were apart, even seeing each other would be hard. If something happened to Fu Huang… this might be goodbye forever.
“Then let me go with you!”
Fu Huang said, “I’d like that too. But the capital needs someone to stay. Otherwise, the people will think we’re like the late emperor, abandoning them and running for our lives.”
Fu Ye’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at him.
“You’re the one I love most. Everyone knows it. With you here, they’ll feel secure—and so will I.”
Fu Ye clung to his neck and said no more.
Fu Huang said softly, “I know you don’t want to part from me. I promise you, I’ll come back safe. I’m going to fight a war, not to die—I wouldn’t go unless I was sure of victory. If you don’t believe me, ask the steward.”
He finally looked over at Qin Neijian as he spoke.
Qin Neijian’s face had gone pale. After a long moment, he said, “Yes, Your Majesty has never known defeat. This time too, you will surely return in triumph.”
Fu Huang gave him a small smile, then turned back to look at Fu Ye.
Qin Neijian lowered his head, hands clenched together and faintly trembling.
Fu Ye was breathing hard, unable for the moment to find words. He couldn’t object, but couldn’t accept it either. His heart hurt so much it felt numb.
Fu Huang dismissed the attendants. When they’d gone, he gathered Fu Ye fully into his lap.
Fu Ye was terrified that Fu Huang wouldn’t come back. The nightmares he’d had rose up in his mind again, feeling like they were about to come true. And yet, he was just as afraid that, because of his own selfishness, he might end up hindering the greater cause and bringing harm to Fu Huang. If that happened, he truly would deserve death a thousand times over. His heart was a complete mess—he could only cling tightly to Fu Huang’s neck.
Fu Huang said softly, “The way you’re holding me… it’s making me want to kiss you.”
At that, Fu Ye took the initiative and kissed him.
Fu Huang couldn’t find words to comfort him—he could only kiss him deeply, endlessly.
Fu Ye collapsed into his arms, and as Fu Huang kissed away his tears, he tasted their saltiness. But in his mouth, they seemed incomparably sweet. For the first time, his emotions completely drowned out any physical sensation—desire, longing, everything else faded into a blur. All Fu Ye wanted was to keep kissing him, for a thousand, ten thousand years.
Above personal feelings, there was reason. Beyond reason, there was duty to their nation. He couldn’t stop Fu Huang, and he shouldn’t. What he could do was stay and guard the capital for him—just as Fu Huang once had.
“I have a request,” Fu Ye said.
Fu Huang held him close, his heart aching. “What is it?”
Fu Ye tilted his head back to look at him, his eyes red and glistening with tears. “You… before you go, will you… sleep with me once?”
Fu Huang froze. “…”
Fu Ye’s face flushed. “I don’t mean… I’m not just… I just…”
Fu Huang touched his forehead to Fu Ye’s. “I know. My baby just loves me too much, right?”
Overcome by love and heartache, Fu Ye kissed him again.
Their entwined tongues spoke what words couldn’t. As Fu Ye kissed him, he wept.
Fu Huang didn’t want to see him suffer like this. “If I take you now, won’t you end up crying your heart out?”
Fu Ye said, “Let me cry myself to death, then.”
“But if you cry like that, how will I know why you’re crying?” Fu Huang said gently. “I want to see you cry from the pain, cry from the pleasure—not cry because we have to part.”
Those words only made Fu Ye break down further.
Fu Huang added, “We could get married first. Make it official.”
Married—so that even in death, he would be Fu Ye’s ghost.
Fu Ye answered without hesitation, “I want that. I want to marry you.”
Fu Huang’s eyes darkened, his pupils seeming to dilate, as if swallowing all the light.
“Think it through. Once we’re married, we’re husband and husband. We’ll share a bed in life, and the same tomb in death.”
Fu Ye thought—how could this be meant to make him think twice? This felt like the sweetest temptation in the world.
Could there be anything more blissful than this?
“I want it. I want it!” he said.
Fu Huang silenced him with a kiss, his tongue sweeping deep, as if he meant to devour him whole.
Separation had only stoked the wildfire of their passion. In this moment, Fu Ye would have followed him into death without a second thought. If climax was the body’s leap toward ecstasy, then this—this was the soul’s yearning to perish together.
Fu Ye felt like he couldn’t withstand the force of such overwhelming love. Just the kiss alone felt like it had killed him once already. Even pain gave rise to a fierce, unstoppable desire—as if, for a moment, they could hide from the sting of death and parting. His love had reached its peak as Fu Huang pressed him down onto the bed. Fu Huang’s large hands brushed over him through the thin robe, and Fu Ye trembled like a taut bowstring, vibrating with soundless tension.
Fu Huang thought, If I die, let it be here in his arms.
How could anyone… love him this much?
They hadn’t even done anything yet, and it already felt like Fu Ye had given him his whole soul.
His tears soaked his hair, his hairpin askew, his face marked by a pain too deep to bear—and in that moment, to Fu Huang, he was as beautiful and untouchable as a god.
Fu Huang thought that before he entered his body, he had already fused with his soul. Even the shadow of death tasted sweet, like honey laced with poison.
“Would you die with me?” he asked Fu Ye.
Fu Ye nodded.
“Would you give me anything I asked for?” Fu Huang asked him.
Fu Ye nodded again.
“You want me that much, don’t you?” Fu Huang said, watching him.
Fu Ye stared at him, his mouth slightly open, speechless.
A faint throb pulsed at Fu Huang’s temple, like a wave of dizziness—but there was no pain. Who said only physical union was the height of pleasure? It was the complete conquest of the soul that left him trembling with satisfaction.
But he wanted more.
He called Qin Neijian inside and said, “Go prepare everything we need for a wedding.”
Qin Neijian had just been outside, quietly crying. His eyes were still red. “…Ah?”
He looked up and saw the prince lying on the bed, his face streaked with tears, and His Majesty’s robes slightly disheveled. Yet the dark aura surrounding the emperor seemed to swirl upward like a coiling black dragon.
Fu Huang said, “We’re getting married.”
