Chapter 1

A snowy night.

Gale-force winds howled fiercely.

The red lanterns hanging from the eaves swayed precariously. One of the gold-inscribed, red-backed “double happiness” banners, whipped up by the wind, slapped against a pillar with a clatter. It struggled for a moment before being helplessly blown away.

The entire prince’s mansion was decked out in lanterns and decorations, brimming with festive cheer. Even beggars passing by could beg a hearty meal. But inside the bridal chamber, the exact opposite reigned: the two occupants were at daggers drawn, without a shred of joy between them.

Well, to be precise, only the half-naked ger bound on the bridal bed was bristling with tension. The other man—the bridegroom, newly recovered from illness—had a pale face and an innocent expression. He sat there holding a cup of hot tea, sipping it cautiously.

Liu Yuanxun guiltily averted his eyes to the ceiling and then the floor, doing his utmost to ignore the gaze raking over him like knife scrapes. He desperately wished he could spit blood and faint like he had three days ago, washing his hands of the whole affair.

But he had already fainted once. Fainting again probably wouldn’t work.

This marriage—he would have to go through with it whether he wanted to or not.

But this wedding night…

Liu Yuanxun sneaked a glance at the ger on the bed. What met his eyes was smooth, pale skin and the coarse ropes binding him tightly. The knots were as thick as thumbs, arranged in a tortoise-shell pattern that constricted his body.

Whoever had tied those knots must have been one of the palace’s old eunuchs who delighted in tormenting people—each one was laced with erotic intent. If not for the murderous glare from the man on the bed, the scene could almost be called seductive.

The moment Liu Yuanxun’s gaze landed there, the man on the bed began thrashing wildly, like a fish flung onto the shore. The rough hemp ropes chafed his skin, carving shocking red welts in mere moments.

“Hey, don’t—” Liu Yuanxun jumped up hurriedly, about to dissuade him. But as he raised his eyes, he met a gaze sharp as daggers. Those scarlet eyes seemed stained with blood, brimming with such hatred and malice that Liu Yuanxun’s heart stuttered in fear.

He didn’t dare look and didn’t dare approach. Instead, he sat back down, turning his body sideways to avoid those eyes. In a soft voice, he said, “I won’t come closer. You stop moving too…”

Rather than heed him, the ger on the bed struggled even harder. Tortoise-shell bondage was an intensely erotic restraint to begin with. When still, it was one thing, but the slightest movement turned it into deliberate provocation.

The ger soon realized the consequences of his struggling. Forcing down his hatred, he went still. His bewitchingly demonic face twisted nearly out of shape, and the fury in his eyes threatened to burn Liu Yuanxun alive.

Liu Yuanxun had nowhere to hide. His hands shook so badly as he clutched the porcelain cup that the water sloshed and spilled, soaking a large patch on his gold-embroidered, feathered wedding robe.

He held the cup, wanting to cry but having no tears. And yet, his troubles were only just beginning.

Three days earlier, His Majesty had suddenly decreed the marriage. Liu Yuanxun had been weak from illness and chilled at the time. No sooner had the eunuch finished proclaiming the decree than he lacked even the strength to accept it. His vision went black, and he fainted dead away.

When he woke, he was already dressed in his wedding robes. The ger had been tightly bound, stripped of his upper garments, and stuffed onto his bed before he could even refuse.

If that had been all, it wouldn’t have been so bad. It was just a marriage. He could bring the man into the household without mistreating him and simply let them live peacefully.

The problem was that the ger had been drugged.

The marriage was decreed by His Majesty, so the drug must have been by His Majesty’s order too. Things had reached this point, and there was clearly no turning back.

Liu Yuanxun couldn’t help closing his eyes in silent prayer: Hold on, just hold on…

If he endured until dawn, he could summon an imperial physician.

But the ger on the bed had other ideas. Perhaps his struggles had ignited the drug’s effects—for as the joyful wedding candles on the incense table flickered twice, the man’s breathing grew heavy and ragged.

Gu Lianzhao panted laboriously. A tantalizing, muffled whine escaped from around the soft cloth stuffing his mouth, while his long, powerful legs began to rub together…

The moment he realized what he was doing, he tried to bite his tongue, hoping the pain would keep him clear-headed. But the cloth was packed too tightly; he couldn’t even move his jaw.

“You… just endure it a little longer,” Liu Yuanxun soothed in a small voice. “Come morning, I’ll call the imperial physician.”

Gu Lianzhao wasn’t buying it. His knife-like gaze scraped over Liu Yuanxun, making him tremble twice. Liu Yuanxun had a bad habit: when nervous, he talked too much, and when he talked, he often said the wrong thing. His lips moved a couple times, infuriating Gu Lianzhao into struggling again.

“You don’t want to marry me, and I don’t want to marry you either.” Liu Yuanxun swallowed and continued persuading him. “If you hurt me, you’ll die too. But if you’re good, it’ll be easier for both of us. How about this: endure tonight, and come morning, I’ll arrange a courtyard for you. You can think of it as just moving houses. Not to brag, but the prince’s mansion has a nickname—Little Jiangnan. Living here is way better than rotting in the Imperial Prison. You…”

He had no idea his words carried misleading implications. He was still earnestly reasoning with a man whose rationality had mostly eroded.

But the man on the bed could no longer listen. Those eyes, cold as winter gales, gradually lost focus. The drug eroded his mind, scorching his organs like fire. The air grew thinner and thinner, melting his proud spine into soft spring waters that wrapped around the finger.

His breathing grew heavier and heavier. Yet the drugged man endured, stifling even the inviting moans despite his fading consciousness.

“Seventh Lord, allow this old servant to overstep,” came a voice from outside amid the howling gale winds. Infused with internal force, it was steady as a bell, each word ringing clearly in Liu Yuanxun’s ears.

Liu Yuanxun shuddered and instinctively looked toward the door.

The old eunuch spoke again: “In this world, there’s nothing His Majesty cannot accomplish. Defying heaven brings nothing but death and injury. Why make it harder for yourself?”

Liu Yuanxun froze. Helplessness washed over him. He held the now-cold tea in his hands, staring blankly for a long moment before finally setting down the cup. In a small voice, he said, “I understand. Thank you, Eunuch Feng, for the reminder.”

Feng Yuan stood in the courtyard, eight feet from the eaves, his lips unmoving. Yet his voice was clear—transmitted via internal force. “This old servant doesn’t deserve your thanks. You are the master, I the servant. We servants are content so long as His Majesty is pleased and Seventh Lord is pleased—even in death.”

The words sounded pleasant, as if this marriage were some blessed union. But peel back the veil, and it was forced on both sides: one coerced into marrying, the other into taking a husband, neither willing.

Yet Eunuch Feng was right. There was nothing His Majesty could not accomplish in this world.

Since his Imperial Brother had laid this path before him, he would have to walk it whether he wanted to or not.

Liu Yuanxun stood in place, exhaling deeply. He walked slowly to the bedside and lifted his hand to part the gauze curtains, taking a clear look at the body clad only in red satin trousers.

Unlike his own frail form, bedridden from chronic illness, this man was the bastard son of the Minister of Punishments. He was also the interrogation prodigy who, as a ger, had secured his position as Pacification Commissioner of the Northern Pacification Division.

The North Pacification Commissioner oversaw the Imperial Prison, whose interrogation methods were notoriously brutal. Merely hearing the name was enough to terrify passersby; the North Pacification Commissioner was the cruelest and bloodiest of them all.

Before tonight, Liu Yuanxun had never closely examined his face. But now he discovered that Gu Lianzhao—the man whose notoriety could hush crying children—was breathtakingly beautiful, almost demonic. His skin was smooth and fine, his features strikingly vivid. A natural red mark adorned his brow, and especially those eyes—like red lotuses blooming amid raging flames, exuding startling clarity amid vibrant life.

It was a pity those intoxicating eyes burned with naked killing intent. Liu Yuanxun had no doubt that if the ger before him weren’t drugged, he would already be a headless corpse.

He pulled back one side of the wedding quilt and covered Gu Lianzhao’s body. Then, from the wide sleeve of his wedding robe, he reached out and felt for the ger’s wrist.

The pulse raced—six beats per breath—evil heat surging wildly. One touch confirmed it: an aphrodisiac. The palace poisoners were insidious; the longer it dragged on, the fiercer the effects.

Any further delay, and the ger before him might burn to death right there on the bridal bed.

The body beneath him had gone soft as water. The moment Liu Yuanxun’s hand touched it, Gu Lianzhao pressed forward like a fish desperate for water. His cheeks bulged slightly around the cotton gag, a hoarse moan thick with desire leaking out.

The ger looked fair-skinned on his own. But when Liu Yuanxun’s hand covered it, the contrast was stark. Gu Lianzhao’s fairness was honeyed, full of vitality and wildness. Liu Yuanxun’s was the pallor of snow—deadly and frail.

One scorching hot, one ice-cold. In that instant of contact, Liu Yuanxun even felt a moment of disorientation: it had been so long since he had felt such burning body heat.

Should he save him?

Liu Yuanxun hesitated.

In the end, his conscience won out. With a silent sigh, he tried to shift the man deeper onto the bed. But his body was too weak to budge him. He could only gather his sleeves and climb onto the bed, then retrieve a coarse porcelain medicine bottle from a hidden compartment at the headboard.

He uncorked it with the red cloth stopper and shook out a single black pill.

This medicine was his lifeline. Each pill was precious; the physician who made it had long passed away. Lose one, and he shortened his own days.

Gu Lianzhao was delirious now, twisting his body to plaster himself against Liu Yuanxun. The feverish heat made the perpetually chilled Liu Yuanxun reluctant to pull away. But recalling the youth’s ferocity—the way he would sooner die than let him off easy—he climbed off the bed properly, retreating from the ger’s reach.

He was a ger after all. If he liked the heat, Liu Yuanxun could stuff him with extra hand warmers. No need to take advantage for a bit of warmth.

He reached to remove the soft cloth from Gu Lianzhao’s mouth. As he pulled it free, a thread of blood trailed from the corner of his lips.

He bit his tongue?!

Liu Yuanxun jolted in alarm and pinched the ger’s jaw to check his tongue. But the delirious youth bit down viciously on instinct. If Liu Yuanxun hadn’t dodged quickly, he might have lost half a finger.

Liu Yuanxun retreated two panicked steps, only to see the man on the bed with dazed eyes and limp limbs. That bite had clearly exhausted his last strength.

“Eat the medicine, and you can’t eat me,” Liu Yuanxun muttered. Wasting no more time, he pinched the ger’s cheeks and shoved the earthy-smelling black pill into his mouth. Whether or not he had bitten his tongue, this one pill would bring him back so long as he still drew breath.

The youth, tormented by the aphrodisiac into madness, didn’t care what was stuffed in his mouth. He sucked and swallowed greedily. Even drawing his hand out as fast as he could, Liu Yuanxun still felt the wet tip of a tongue brush his fingertip.

A shiver ran up Liu Yuanxun’s spine, and he couldn’t help stepping back half a pace.

He wasn’t afraid of being licked. He was afraid that one day, when Gu Lianzhao found out, he would chop off Liu Yuanxun’s finger with a knife.

After all, on the day Gu Lianzhao had publicly executed the corrupt official Zhu Hongli on the street, Liu Yuanxun had been leaning by the window on the second floor of Mingcui Pavilion, sipping tea.

First came the thunder of hooves that made him look up. Then a tall figure in black official robes somersaulted through the air, drawing his eye. With a flash of white light, the white horse carrying Zhu Hongli in his desperate flight reared and froze mid-air.

That instant stretched endlessly, so long Liu Yuanxun forgot to breathe. And yet it was so brief—by the time he blinked, blood was spraying. The man’s body and the horse’s crossed and fell separately. Half-exposed organs spilled onto the ground, the smooth cross-sections still visible…

The stunned commoners gradually regained their senses, one after another. They began screaming hysterically as they fled in a frenzy, plunging the streets into utter chaos. The stench of blood permeated the entire marketplace.

Yet the culprit behind this farce remained utterly calm. He drew out a plain silk handkerchief and stood amid the pooling blood on the ground, leisurely wiping the fresh gore from his blade.

Before the youth could even look up, Liu Yuanxun instinctively sidestepped, ducking behind the bamboo curtain. When he peered out again, the only thing he saw lying on the ground was a plain handkerchief, now thoroughly soaked in blood.

At the time, he could only lament the overwhelming aura of slaughter radiating from the youth. Little did he know their next meeting would take place on the bridal bed during their wedding night.

Though he was exhausted to the point of collapse, Liu Yuanxun dragged the wedding quilt from the bed—for the sake of his own life—and spread it out across the Noble Consort couch to one side.

All he could hope was that when morning came, those who needed to leave would have gone, and those who needed to sober up would have regained their clarity.