Chapter 118: Chapter 117. The North Wind Bites.

Chapter 117.

In a past life, Xie Yunchuan had never missed an opportunity to attack him.

Xie Yunchuan, a self-proclaimed paragon among civil officials, held himself as above reproach, always scoffing at the likes of him—a eunuch who wielded power in ways they deemed vulgar and dishonorable. Especially since he controlled enough authority to subtly coerce the emperor, making him nothing short of a thorn in Xie Yunchuan’s eye.

Their battles weren’t confined to the imperial court either. Even the harem wasn’t spared. Every petition recommending the emperor take a consort or establish an empress bore Xie Shu’s name, as if he relished meddling in every sphere of influence.

At the time, Yin Chengyu had already grown formidable, with these civil officials—weak in body but lofty in rhetoric—yearning to replicate the tales of old dynasties by dragging down this "treacherous power" to immortalize their own reputations.

Even after Yin Chengyu’s death, when the two of them shared regency over the young emperor, their enmity remained fierce. They clashed constantly over policies, locked in a ceaseless cold war, their hostility palpable even before the young Emperor Yin Chengyue.

But now? Now this so-called “paragon of virtue,” this future Grand Chancellor, stood before him, bowing low with gratitude and speaking to him with heartfelt sincerity.

Xue Shu swept his gaze over Xie Yunchuan from head to toe, scrutinizing every gesture, every word, searching for any hint of pretense.

Yet, there was none.

So, Xie Yunchuan had finally come to this.

It made sense. At this time, Xie Yunchuan was still far from the seasoned schemer he would become in the future. No matter how composed he tried to appear, he was just a young man, new to power and still raw around the edges.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Xue Shu’s lips. He reached out, pulling Xie Yunchuan to his feet, mimicking the benevolent demeanor of Zheng Duobao as he adopted a perfectly amiable tone. “No need for such formalities, Master Xie. I’ve always detested those corrupt eunuchs who bring suffering to the common folk. What I did was but a small act of justice—hardly worth mentioning.”

Xie Yunchuan froze for a moment, clearly unprepared for such unexpected cordiality from the feared Overseer Commissioner of the Eastern Bureau.

Before he could respond, Xue Shu’s tone softened further, warm and inviting. “I never had the chance to study in my youth, so I’ve always admired scholars like yourself. Should you ever face difficulties in the future, don’t hesitate to seek my help. Whatever I can do, I will.”

The words only deepened Xie Yunchuan’s surprise. He studied Xue Shu’s expression carefully, searching for a hidden agenda but finding none.

And yet, unease stirred in his chest.

What could Xue Shu possibly want from him?

Then again, he mused, what was there to take?

Apart from unfulfilled vengeance, he had little to offer.

With that thought, Xie Yunchuan bowed politely, bid farewell, and left with his suspicions gnawing at him.

Xue Shu remained where he stood, watching Xie Yunchuan’s retreating figure. Only after the man had disappeared from view did he drop the façade, letting a cold smirk curl his lips.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, “let’s see if Xie Yunchuan dares to criticize me again after this little favor.”

*

Inside the Hongren Hall.

Through the window, Yin Chengyu had been watching. He’d spotted the moment Xue Shu and Xie Yunchuan crossed paths and couldn’t help but worry. Would Xue Shu, in his usual jealous and possessive manner, make trouble for Xie Yunchuan?

But as he continued observing, his apprehension shifted to confusion. The two men seemed... almost amicable.

His gaze lingered on the easy smile gracing Xue Shu’s lips, his own brow furrowing slowly.

When Xue Shu finally entered the hall, Yin Chengyu remained composed, pretending to be engrossed in the memorials on his desk. Without looking up, he asked lightly, “What were you discussing with Xie Yunchuan just now?”

Xue Shu thought for a moment, keeping his little schemes to himself. Instead, he said casually, "Nothing much. Master Xie was just expressing his gratitude for my help during the Sun Miao case." He paused briefly, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "I never noticed it before, but Master Xie is quite the good man."

So gullible. Almost laughably so.

Yin Chengyu studied him for a moment, her sharp gaze unwavering before he dismissed him with a disinterested glance. “Is that so?”

Xue Shu nodded affirmatively, quickly shifting the conversation back to more pressing matters. “My men have uncovered the connection between Yao Shi and the heir of Prince Ziyang. Five days after the Third Prince’s wedding, he took Yao Shi to the hot spring villa outside the city. They stayed there for about six days before returning to the capital. Coincidentally—or not—the heir of Prince Ziyang was also outside the city during those days. He has a mistress in a nearby town, a widow he visits discreetly every month or two. That town is less than two miles from the Third Prince’s villa. Based on the timing of Yao Shi’s rumored pregnancy, it lines up perfectly with their stay at the villa.”

And that’s not all. The spies sent to the villa reported that Yao Shi took fertility-boosting tonics every day while she was there.

Piece by piece, the truth was falling into place.

Anyone else might have failed to connect these dots—after all, who would imagine a prince of royal blood borrowing his cousin’s seed?

Yin Chengjing’s gamble was dangerous, reckless even, but if it paid off, the rewards would be undeniable. The heir of Prince Ziyang and Emperor Longfeng were first cousins. With their shared lineage, the resemblance between Yin Chengjing and the heir of Prince Ziyang was close enough to avoid suspicion. If Yao Shi gave birth to a prince, Yin Chengjing’s position would be unshakable.

But one had to wonder—how did he keep this secret from Yao Shi and the heir of Prince Ziyang? Judging by their reactions, neither seemed aware of the truth, especially the heir of Ziyang.

“Send Uju to test Yao Shi’s stance,” Yin Chengyu said after a moment of thought. “If possible, win her over.”

Yao Shi’s father, Yao Zhao’an, held the powerful position of Left Governor-General of the Rear Army Command. The Rear Army Command oversaw 18 military guards in the capital and 20 more in the nearby provinces, not to mention its control over 11 other garrison units. Together, they commanded a force of over 200,000 troops in the capital and surrounding regions, with even more stationed elsewhere.

Yao Zhao’an had risen through the ranks on military merits and enjoyed significant influence in the army. However, tensions between the civil officials and military aristocracy had deepened over the years. Yin Chengyu’s maternal family, the esteemed Yu clan, belonged firmly to the former, while Yao Zhao’an and his peers leaned toward the latter. In fact, Yao Zhao’an had already aligned himself with Yin Chengjing to protect his interests.

Now, however, an opportunity had presented itself—a chance to shatter their alliance.

*

Upon receiving the reply, Uju wasted no time devising ways to approach Yao Shi.

Yet Yao Shi, now as skittish as a bird startled by a bowstring, flatly rejected Uju’s attempt to pay her respects. Restless, she paced the room, her fingers absentmindedly brushing over the slight curve forming on her abdomen. Realizing what she was doing, she jerked her hand away as if burned.

Just before Uju came seeking her, a letter from her family had arrived. Previously, she had secretly asked her most doting third brother to investigate the whereabouts of the heir of Prince of Ziyang, careful not to reveal her true reasons.

The news brought today was unsettling. According to her brother’s messenger, the heir of Prince Ziyang had been away from the capital in late February, spending time in a small town near Wangjing. Coincidentally, that town was not far from the Hot Spring Manor.

Too many coincidences were piling up, leaving Yao Shi unable to ignore the gnawing truth. Her thoughts drifted back to the Qianqiu Banquet.

That banquet, hosted in the grand Huangji Hall, was split into two sections: officials in the outer hall and the accompanying ladies in the inner hall.

That evening, she had stayed in the inner hall for hours, only to feel faint and suffocated. Seeking fresh air, she quietly slipped out into the garden with her maid. Halfway through the garden, she had the misfortune of running into a drunken heir of Prince Ziyang.

She had long heard of his reckless reputation and wanted nothing to do with him. Pulling her maid close, she tried to avoid him. But the heir, emboldened by drink, dared to grab her, muttering incomprehensible words in his stupor.

She hadn’t dared to scream, only panicking as she and her maid wrestled him off. Yet in the scuffle, his robe collar had been pulled open, revealing a distinct birthmark on his left chest—a bluish mark in the shape of a coin.

The sight struck her like lightning.

That birthmark awakened memories she dared not recall. And in her dazed shock, she couldn’t help but notice a faint resemblance between the drunken Prince of Ziyang and her own husband, Yin Chengjing.

The absurdity of the thought overwhelmed her. She fled in a panic, but as she left, she heard something chilling—the heir of Prince Ziyang calling her by her childhood nickname.

That name was a secret shared only with her family and Yin Chengjing. Only during those fleeting nights at the Hot Spring Manor had Yin Chengjing ever called her by it.

She tried to shake off the deluge of absurd thoughts, but her mind wouldn’t stop circling back to that haunting possibility. It was as if she were peering into a dark, bottomless well, knowing that delving further would doom her forever—yet unable to resist inching closer.

Her face grew ashen as she recalled the rumors about Yin Chengjing circulating in the capital before their marriage.

Then came the memory of their wedding night, when Yin Chengjing hadn’t come to her chambers but had gone instead to Princess Uju’s courtyard. Later, during their visit to her family, he took her to the Hot Spring Manor, showering her with tenderness and explaining that his absence on their wedding night was to save face for Uju, ensuring she wasn’t humiliated and thus preserving the alliance between the Yan Kingdom and the Tatars.

In the secluded warmth of the hot spring retreat, their nights intertwined with passion. He whispered promises, saying he wanted a child with her—his child—and swore that once they returned to the capital, no other woman would ever take her place.

True to his word, upon their return, he steered clear of other women’s chambers, even dismissing the two concubines gifted by the imperial consort. For a fleeting moment, it seemed like she had his undivided devotion.

Then came the discovery. The signs of life stirring within her left no doubt—she was carrying his child. His attentiveness grew almost suffocating, his every move calculated to keep her resting and undisturbed. He even relocated to the study, claiming it was for her peace.

She should have been happy. She was happy. But now, looking back, she saw it for what it was—a honeyed snare. From the day they left the hot spring estate, he hadn’t touched her once.

The memory of that peculiar greenish birthmark—the one she couldn’t quite recall seeing on him—lingered in her mind like an unanswered question.

Yao Shi crumpled to the floor, biting down on a handkerchief to muffle her anguish. She stayed there, wrestling with her spiraling doubts, until she finally rose, wiped away her tears, and summoned her maid to help her wash and dress.

Staring into the polished bronze mirror, her reflection betrayed nothing but composure. A calm smile touched her lips as she stepped out with her maid in tow, heading straight for him.

When a servant informed Yin Chengjing of her arrival, a shadow of irritation flashed across his face before he masked it with an affectionate smile. Greeting her at the entrance, he feigned concern. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting? What brings you here?”

She leaned into his embrace, her voice soft but deliberate. “I’ve been having nightmares. I can’t seem to sleep at all.” Her cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness as she hesitated, clutching his sleeve. “Your Highness… Could you stay with me tonight?”

For a heartbeat, his smile faltered. Then he stroked her back, his voice as tender as silk. “Of course.”

Later that night, he came to her room, freshly bathed and dressed simply in an inner robe. But even then, his collar was fastened high, concealing any hint of skin.

Her heart clenched, the truth teetering on the edge of revelation. Yet she needed to confirm it herself.

In the dim room, she waited, biding her time. When the third crow of the rooster echoed faintly, she opened her eyes and carefully reached for his tightly fastened collar. Her hands moved delicately, pulling the fabric apart inch by inch.

She barely breathed as she fixed her gaze on his exposed chest. Her world shifted as her eyes fell upon the smooth, unmarked skin of his left side.

Letting go, she lay still, struggling to steady the storm within her. The rumors she had heard began to churn in her mind, growing heavier with every passing second. Gritting her teeth, she dared to push further. Her trembling hand reached for his abdomen, sliding downward.

Before she could confirm her suspicions, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist with alarming swiftness.

“Rou’er?”

In the suffocating darkness, his voice, gentle yet laced with an eerie chill, carried the weight of a death knell. Yao Shi feigned the haze of a startled awakening, her sleepy eyes fluttering open as she murmured in a soft, drowsy tone, "Your Highness, what’s wrong?"

Yin Chengjing narrowed his sharp gaze at her, the silence between them stretching taut. After a long pause, he clasped her hand in his palm, his voice smooth but unsettlingly warm. “It’s nothing. You had another nightmare. Sleep.”

She hummed faintly in acknowledgment, her body instinctively shifting closer to him. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind into submission, willing herself into an uneasy slumber, terrified of revealing even a crack in her mask.

By the time she awoke the next morning, Yin Chengjing was already up.

Feigning innocence, Yao Shi rose, taking the sash handed to her by the maid and fastening it around him with practiced grace when he returned. Her tone remained soft, composed. “Your Highness, I had another nightmare last night. I fear I’ve offended some spirit. I’d like to visit the Jin Yun Temple to burn incense and pray for the child’s safety.”

His eyes lingered on her, probing, but she held her ground. Finding nothing amiss, he chuckled softly, his voice tinged with indulgence. “You’re carrying now. Take extra precautions. I’ll have Chen Da accompany you.”

Lowering her gaze, Yao murmured her compliance.

After seeing Yin Chengjing off, Yao Shi retrieved the carefully prepared abortion medicine from its hiding place, tucking it into her sleeve. She ordered the carriage and horses, setting out for the temple.

Upon arrival at Jin Yun Temple, she performed her prayers with meticulous devotion. Only then did she excuse herself, claiming a need to rest, dismissing Chen Da and the others with calculated ease.

Left alone in the meditation room, her fingers clenched the packet of herbs hidden in her sleeve. This was her only chance—leave it or discard it.

She had told herself over and over that she couldn’t keep this child. The very thought of how it came to be filled her with revulsion. But as her mind cleared, reality reasserted itself. This child wasn’t just a burden—it was her sole bargaining chip for survival.

If something happened to it, she couldn’t predict what Yin Chengjing, stripped of his thin veneer of humanity, might do next. Then there was her family. Though her mother and third brother doted on her, her father held absolute authority. And his love for power far outweighed his love for her. He had married her off to the Third Prince, staking the family’s future on this alliance.

Even if her father knew the Third Prince was impotent and the child wasn’t his, he would force her to keep the secret. For the family’s sake, for their ambitions.

Yao Shi’s mind churned with endless possibilities, but every path led to the same conclusion. The child had to stay.

With a defeated sigh, she stared at the medicine hidden in her sleeve. She had painstakingly crafted it herself, mixing it under the guise of preparing ordinary remedies. And now, it was useless.

Tossing the packet into the pool beneath the window, she sat for a long while, her thoughts a heavy cloud. Only when the weight became unbearable did she finally rise to leave.

Her mind adrift, she failed to notice her footing as she descended the stone steps. In a single misstep, she lost her balance.

A startled cry escaped her lips as instinct drove her hands to shield her belly. Just as the ground rushed to meet her, a firm hand caught her, steadying her with an unyielding grip.

Yao Shi steadied herself, still shaken from the close call. Around her, the maids and guards froze momentarily in shock before rushing to her side, forming a protective circle.

"Third sister-in-law, you must be more careful. You're with child, after all," Yin Ciguang commented smoothly, withdrawing his hand. His nose twitched slightly, catching the faintest trace of an unusual fragrance. His gaze on Yao shifted, sharp and calculating.

That scent… safflower.

Safflower—a herb known to invigorate blood circulation and relieve pain—was strictly forbidden for pregnant women.

Yin Ciguang's eyes lingered on Yao Shi's pale complexion as his mind replayed the whispers he'd overheard during the Qianqiu Banquet. Loose threads of suspicion began to weave themselves into a coherent, damning narrative.

"Thank you, elder brother," Yao Shi murmured, carefully avoiding his gaze. She lowered her head in gratitude, her voice steady despite her unease.

"No need for thanks, sister-in-law," Yin Ciguang replied, his expression gentle yet unreadable. "You're in a delicate condition. Such shocks aren't good for you. It just so happens I’ve finished my prayers; allow me to escort you safely home."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Yao Shi’s features, but she could find no excuse to refuse. She offered a polite word of thanks before stepping into her carriage.

True to his word, Yin Ciguang followed closely behind, ensuring her safe return to the Third Prince's estate.

Inside the gates, Yin Chengjing was informed of the incident. His wife, narrowly avoiding a fall, had been personally escorted back by the ever-helpful Prince An. Alarmed, he hurried out to meet them.

"Thank you for your assistance today, elder brother," Yin Chengjing said, bowing politely. Yet, the smile on his face was hollow, failing to reach his eyes.

"You're far too courteous, third brother," Yin Ciguang replied with an easy wave of his hand. "It was mere coincidence." Then, as though casually recalling something, he added, "Oh, by the way, I caught the faint scent of safflower earlier—emanating from sister-in-law, I believe. You’re aware it’s a forbidden substance for expectant mothers, aren’t you? You might want to be more vigilant. Wouldn’t want her accidentally using something harmful due to a lack of medical knowledge."

The mention of safflower turned Yin Chengjing’s expression to stone, the polite façade shattering in an instant.

But Yin Ciguang wasn’t finished. He stepped closer, his voice dropping low enough for only the two of them to hear. "Third brother," he said with a faint smirk, "given your current circumstances, is there really anything left for you to fight for?"

With that, he leaned back, his expression once again warm and unassuming. "Well, I won’t intrude any longer. Take care."

Turning on his heel, Yin Ciguang departed, leaving a storm of rage simmering in his brother’s eyes. Yin Chengjing’s fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms as he watched that smug silhouette disappear into the distance.

He knows. That bastard knows!