Chapter 11: Entering the Palace Part 1

Jiang Sheng looked carefree on the surface, but he had still taken a fright, and in the middle of the night the nightmares came. Lu Yan had always been a light sleeper all these years—the slightest stir would wake him, and some nights he couldn’t sleep at all. It was only recently, with Jiang Sheng back at his side, that things had gotten a little better.

The moment Jiang Sheng cried out, Lu Yan’s eyes snapped open. Instinctively he pulled him tighter, gaze sweeping sharply across the room. It was empty and dim—Jiang Sheng was only calling out in a nightmare.

Realizing this, Lu Yan quickly gathered him into his arms, gently cradling his back. “Baby, don’t be afraid…”

Jiang Sheng wouldn’t wake, eyes squeezed shut, a sob caught in his voice as he called Lu Yan’s name over and over.

Lu Yan lowered his head and kissed him. “I’m here. Lu Yan is here.”

He tried to wake him, but no matter how he patted Jiang Sheng’s back, there was no response.

Lu Yan was growing frantic. Just as he opened his mouth to call for the Divine Doctor, Jiang Sheng suddenly let out a cry, his voice rising. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m going to go find Lu Yan now.”

The man went rigid. “Baby… what did you say?”

Jiang Sheng woke. His lashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes, blinking blankly at Lu Yan. “…Husband?”

The heart Lu Yan had been clutching in his throat finally dropped back into place.

He reached up and touched Jiang Sheng’s cheek. “Baby, does anything else hurt?”

Jiang Sheng shook his head, voice hoarse. “I think I had a nightmare.”

Lu Yan soothed him in a warm murmur. “Don’t think about it. It was only a dream.”

He called for lamps to be lit and warm honeyed water to be brought, then held Jiang Sheng and coaxed two sips into him. He didn’t ask what he’d dreamed, or why he’d said what he’d said.

The bed curtains fell shut again. Jiang Sheng didn’t lie back down—he burrowed into Lu Yan’s arms instead, resting against his chest, letting Lu Yan pat and soothe him to sleep.

It was just like when he was small. Whenever Jiang Sheng had a nightmare, he would come trotting over clutching his pillow, demanding that Lu Yan lull him to sleep.

Coaxed to sleep by the same person from childhood to now.

Lu Yan patted him gently, occasionally dipping down to press a kiss to his hair. He brushed aside the stray hairs at Jiang Sheng’s temple and studied his sleeping Wife carefully, then leaned in close to listen to his breathing.

Sometimes it was no wonder Jiang Sheng called him a pervert—Lu Yan suspected something really was wrong with him. Especially now. Eight years apart, and then to have his Wife lost and found again—Lu Yan couldn’t hold himself back. He was physically obsessed with every inch of Jiang Sheng’s body; he wanted to devour him whole, to melt into one person with him.

Lu Yan held him like that until dawn. Jiang Sheng slept so deeply that being set down with the utmost care didn’t stir him at all; he just rolled over, hugged his pillow, and kept snoring with his bottom stuck in the air.

Lu Yan had to attend morning court. He should have requested leave to stay home with his Wife today, but there was something more important to handle.

After giving the steward a string of instructions, Lu Yan ordered Cheng Jing to bring him his sword. Cheng Jing’s heart lurched; he glanced at Lu Yan involuntarily and couldn’t help speaking up. “Your Highness, bearing a sword into court is a grave offense…”

Lu Yan just looked at him, expressionless.

Cheng Jing dared say no more and hurried to fetch it.

Lu Yan didn’t take the carriage today. He mounted his horse directly and gave Cheng Jing a cold order. “Stay at the manor and watch Master. If anything else happens, you needn’t come report to me at all.”

Cheng Jing didn’t dare lift his head, and hurriedly complied.

And so, when Jiang Sheng woke, he was greeted by this deeply strange sight.

“Why are you squatting next to my bed?!”

He’d nearly fainted from fright the moment he opened his eyes, shrinking back into the covers.

Cheng Jing said, aggrieved, “I’m afraid of losing you! After what happened yesterday, the Prince nearly sent me straight to my death.”

Jiang Sheng said quietly, “It wasn’t your fault. And nothing happened to me anyway. Where’s Lu Yan?”

Cheng Jing answered honestly, “The Prince went to morning court.”

To court. To chop people.

Jiang Sheng gave an “oh” and went back to staring contests with Cheng Jing. After a while, he couldn’t help saying, “Could you wait outside? I need to change.”

Cheng Jing froze, then nodded rapidly and rose. “Then—Master, I’ll wait right outside.”

He had been genuinely scared out of his wits. He shadowed Jiang Sheng every step of the day, even staring while he ate. Cheng Jing knew perfectly well: if Master got lost one more time, the Prince really would kill him.

Lu Yan came home late that day, not returning until the afternoon. A pity ancient times didn’t even have cell phones—no way to talk to his Wife every moment of the day.

He had gone to the Ministry of Justice. Two of the assassins dragged back yesterday hadn’t quite died, and he’d put them through interrogation today; a trace of blood inevitably clung to him.

Lu Yan didn’t want Jiang Sheng to smell it. After returning, he washed and changed first, then had incense burned over his clothes, and only when he was certain not a trace of scent remained did he head to the main hall.

Cheng Jing was still squatting at the door. The moment he saw the Prince return, he blurted, “Master’s still in his room! I’ve been watching him like a hawk!”

Lu Yan didn’t spare him a single glance, pushing the door open and walking straight in.

Jiang Sheng was sprawled on the bed, feet kicked up, reading a storybook. At the sound of the door he sighed. “Cheng Jing, you’re going to break the door down at this rate. Is it really necessary? You’ve come in to check on me a hundred times this morning. If you’re that bored, just get on the bed and read with me… Ow!”

A slap landed on his backside.

Shocked and furious, Jiang Sheng sprang up like a startled Kitty, whipping his head around—there stood Lu Yan at the bedside, eyes narrowed, glaring at him fiercely.

Jiang Sheng out-glared him. “You hit me the second you walk in the door! Are you addicted to smacking your Wife or something?!”

Lu Yan’s face was stern. “The moment I’m gone, you’re inviting people into our bed?”

Jiang Sheng rubbed his bottom and huffed. “Well, what else can I do? You guard me so tightly you might as well line up a row of people to stand at the bedside and watch me.”

Lu Yan sighed, a little helpless. “These are troubled times. I’m afraid something will happen to you.”

He bent down and gathered Jiang Sheng into his arms, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I promise—nothing like that will ever happen to you again.”

Jiang Sheng poked him in the waist, amused. “How can you promise that? They’re the ones who come to assassinate you. Can you control that?”

“Besides—” Jiang Sheng drew out his words, tilting his head up to look at Lu Yan, “we’re a properly married couple. I’m your Wife. Whatever happens, of course we face it together.”

“Lu Yan, you never have to be alone.”

Jiang Sheng patted his own chest. “Your Sheng is here.”

Lu Yan: “…”

Exasperated and charmed in equal measure, he patted Jiang Sheng’s back.

Their thinking was completely different. He didn’t need Jiang Sheng to shoulder these things with him—Jiang Sheng only needed to stand behind him.

But that didn’t stop his heart from going soft over it.

His Shengsheng was always, always this good.

Lu Yan dipped his head and kissed him. “In a couple of days is the Empress Dowager’s birthday banquet. We’ll enter the palace together. Baby—let’s get married again.”

Jiang Sheng’s eyes lit up and he nodded hard. “Okay!”

“But Husband, what’s that smell on you?”

Lu Yan blanked. “Hm?”

Blood? No way.

Jiang Sheng leaned into the crook of Lu Yan’s neck and sniffed delicately, then announced in mourning, “It’s a fragrance… but it’s not my fragrance.”

Zero to sixty in an instant: “You smell like his perfume~”

Lu Yan clapped a hand over his mouth. “It’s incense from the clothes. Save it, Little Ancestor.”

Jiang Sheng shut his mouth obediently, but those darting eyes were clearly cooking up no good.

One roll of his eyes, one new scheme.

The moment Lu Yan let go, he started wailing again. “Where did my gold go? That was a whole big bag of gold!”

Lu Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or scold. “Little liar. Didn’t you say yesterday you were giving it to me?”

Jiang Sheng shouted, unconvinced, “That was just for you to look at! The money still has to be mine. I’m in charge of the finances in this family.”

Lu Yan laughed. “Fine. This household finally has an administrator. I’ll have Cheng Yu hand you the storeroom keys later. One condition—you only get to manage my money. No one else’s.”

“It’s just a bag of gold. Your Husband has plenty more. Don’t go accepting things from every random cat and dog out there.”

Clearly, Lu Yan was still nursing a grudge over that “Jiang Sheng’s Older Brother” trying to take his person away.

Jiang Sheng was satisfied. He burrowed obediently into his Husband’s arms. “Okay, Husband.”

His voice was soft and sweet, coquettish beyond bearing.

Lu Yan loved him to death like this. He knew perfectly well that at least half of it was an act, and he still couldn’t help lowering his head to capture that chattering little mouth in a kiss.

Having a Wife was wonderful.

The Empress Dowager’s birthday this year fell on a full-decade year, and it was being celebrated in grand style. Knowing they were entering the palace today, Jiang Sheng crawled out of bed early and rummaged through the wardrobe, picking through everything twice over.

A maid held one out to him. “Master, why not this one? It just arrived from the imperial weaving workshop—supposedly the newest fabric, tribute from the Southern Kingdom. There’s a special gold dust woven into it. You hardly notice normally, but if it touches rain, it shimmers faintly, like light on water. It’s quite beautiful.”

Jiang Sheng nodded. “All right, this one then.”

The servants below were expert flatterers. They knew exactly who ran the Prince’s Manor now, and good things poured in free of charge. Just yesterday, someone had sent a box of pearls, each the size of a pigeon’s egg, “for Master to play marbles with.”

Jiang Sheng hadn’t thought twice—he’d actually gotten down on the floor with Cheng Jing for a rousing, cutthroat game of marbles. Pearls had rolled everywhere, and only that evening did he learn:

Those were Night-Luminous Pearls!

They lit up the whole room like broad daylight.

Dressed and adorned, Jiang Sheng strutted a full circle in front of Lu Yan to show off his new clothes and new hair crown. Only after receiving a comprehensive eight-hundred-word commendation was he satisfied enough to leave with Lu Yan.

Outside the palace gates, carriages from every manor lined up in rows. Ordinary officials’ carriages couldn’t enter; all family members had to dismount and walk in on foot.

Only the North-Guarding Prince’s carriage rolled through unimpeded.

Everyone watched, and not a soul dared breathe a word.

After all, just two days ago, the North-Guarding Prince had strode into court wearing his sword—one step short of pointing it at the Son of Heaven himself. He had dressed down the Metropolitan Governor and the Commander of the Imperial Guards, sword tip at their noses, demanding whether this Capital could even be governed—if it happened one more time, this Prince would cut them down first, and so on.

The entire court held its tongue. The Little Emperor trembled faintly on the Dragon Throne.

Lu Yan was violent-tempered even normally, but he had never been this unrestrained—like a dragon whose reverse scale had been touched, going mad without care for consequence.

So now, everyone was behaving beautifully.

The whole way there, Lu Yan kept instructing Jiang Sheng to stay close to him.

Jiang Sheng’s ears had grown calluses from hearing it.

“I know, I know.” He waved it off breezily. “Every step you take, I take. I’m your little tail, happy now?”

Lu Yan gave his ear a squeeze.

But as it turned out—

Kitties have no credibility.

It wasn’t entirely Jiang Sheng’s fault. He had followed Lu Yan off the carriage obediently and was walking toward the great hall, but today the whole court was feasting, families were permitted, and there were simply too many people.

It was Jiang Sheng’s first time inside the Imperial Palace. This was an actual ancient palace! And there it stood, sparkling right in front of him. His eyes couldn’t drink it in fast enough, glancing left and right…

Wait!

Through the crowd, a familiar figure flashed past.

Jiang Sheng’s eyes went wide.

Jiang Feng?!

Why was his brother here?

Jiang Sheng chased after him on instinct, weaving through layer upon layer of people. But after turning one corner, the familiar figure was gone.

Had his eyes deceived him?

Jiang Sheng rubbed his face and sighed. When he turned back around, he froze.

Where was Husband!

Disaster!

He’d chased after that figure like he was possessed, never noticing where his feet had carried him. Ahead was a pond, looking somewhat run-down, and not a soul in sight in any direction.

This time, Jiang Sheng was genuinely starting to panic.

This Kitty just stumbled from one disaster into the next.

He tried to retrace his steps by memory, but the paths wound and twisted, and somehow he couldn’t find his way back.

At last, spotting a figure ahead, Jiang Sheng was overjoyed and hurried over. “Excuse me, could you—”

The man turned around, frowning. “Jiang Sheng?”

Jiang Sheng’s words caught.

They knew each other?

But he truly had no memory of this person.