Qixue’s eyes were very beautiful—lovely almond-shaped eyes with slightly upturned corners. His pupils were pitch-black yet crystalline, like translucent jade marrow rippling with shimmering light. Even without smiling, they brimmed with seductive charm, softening the body with just a glance.
He gazed blankly at Helan Ji, his consciousness gradually clearing as he recognized the man’s identity.
Whether it was his features or his aura, this man gave him an intensely familiar feeling. Could he be…
Qixue’s eyes widened, his heart fluttering like a lively little bird. With a hint of nervousness, he called out, “Your Majesty?”
Helan Ji met his gaze for a moment before withdrawing his hand. “Zhen has never seen you before. Who are you?”
It was His Majesty—truly His Majesty… He had finally met him!
After so many years apart, the chance to reunite with Helan Ji filled Qixue with overwhelming joy, making the tip of his nose tingle and his body tremble slightly. He rose and bowed to Helan Ji. “This servant Sang Xue pays respects to Your Majesty.”
His heart was a tumult of emotions. Though His Majesty had no memory of him, Qixue knew full well this wasn’t their first meeting.
So different from the cute, snow-white little immortal child in his memories, His Majesty had grown much taller and thinner, his skin exceptionally pale. There was a sickly pallor amid his cold indifference—just as the books described, His Majesty’s health was poor. Even in the Warm Pavilion’s spring-like warmth, he dressed in thick layers.
Qixue felt overflowing pity and affection for Helan Ji. Even after more than a decade, with Helan Ji no longer a three-year-old child but a young man nearing twenty, Qixue still saw him as a kid.
Unfortunately, such thoughts could only stay buried in his heart. Remembering his status as a lowly eunuch, Qixue bowed his head deeply and paid his respects properly.
“…”
Helan Ji silently watched Qixue, his gaze carrying an icy scrutiny.
Suddenly, he frowned slightly, as if encountering something incomprehensible, but the expression vanished in an instant, his face returning to indifference. “Rise.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Qixue responded obediently and was about to stand when Xu Taifei helped him up first.
“Silly child, why are you bowing so formally to your brother?”
Xu Taifei held his hand and said softly, “Remember, A’Man is your brother. You don’t need to be so deferential to him. If he bullies you, just tell Mother Concubine, and she’ll teach him a lesson for you.”
With that, she took Qixue’s hand and Helan Ji’s, overlapping them together. Full of anticipation, she said, “Come on, A Xue, call him brother.”
Qixue’s fingertips rested in Helan Ji’s palm, feeling a chill. Helan Ji’s constitution was extremely yin-cold; even his hands were cool.
He bit his lip, wanting to grow close to Helan Ji but hesitant to address him that way. To gauge Helan Ji’s reaction, he quietly lifted his head for a stealthy glance.
He thought he was being restrained, unaware that his gaze toward Helan Ji was so full of tender affection—gentle, lingering, brimming with fondness and pity that nearly overflowed, sweet as honey.
Helan Ji took in his every reaction without a word, not releasing his hand. He simply said, “Do as the Taifei says.”
Qixue’s spirits soared instantly, though mindful of his status, he didn’t show excessive joy. He lowered his exquisite eyes shyly and called out, “Brother…”
“Mm.” Helan Ji responded faintly.
Xu Taifei beamed. “You two should get along well from now on. A’Man, A Xue is still young, so you must look after him.”
“Understood,” Helan Ji said.
After sitting briefly, Helan Ji left Cuiwei Palace—likely to attend to state affairs. Qixue saw him off contentedly. He hadn’t imagined he’d speak with Helan Ji so soon; he owed it all to Xu Taifei.
Xu Taifei asked Qixue with a smiling face, “A Xue, do you like your brother?”
“I do!”
Qixue nodded vigorously, emphasizing, “I really like His Majesty.”
“Just call him ‘brother’—it makes you sound closer,” Xu Taifei laughed. “Come, let’s have lunch with Mother Concubine. This afternoon, I’ll set up your room for you. How about living right next to Mother Concubine?”
Thanks to Xu Taifei, Qixue moved to a new bedroom that afternoon. The room was bright and luxurious, with agarwood incense burning in the censer. The brocade bedding on the bed was freshly sewn that day, scented faintly, soft and warm. Qixue slept comfortably once more.
When he woke, Xu Taifei was absent from Cuiwei Palace—she had reportedly gone to the weaving room herself to select fabrics for Qixue’s clothes.
Qixue felt touched, but more puzzled. Xu Taifei surely knew he was male, and today was their first meeting. Why insist on treating him as a “daughter” and being so kind?
Even if her “deranged mind” explained it, it didn’t hold—why not adopt someone else as her daughter? Did he resemble her late daughter?
This hypothesis made sense of why Eunuch Dong had insisted on sending him to Cuiwei Palace and why Supervisor Cui had given him a palace maid’s outfit. They must have planned the same.
Just then, Eunuch Dong came to visit. Qixue voiced his doubts, and Eunuch Dong smiled, admitting, “Young Master guessed a little right.”
“A little?”
Eunuch Dong explained, “Your appearances aren’t similar at all, but the Taifei claiming you as her daughter is indeed tied to the late princess.
“Back then, the princess died suddenly—not from illness, but murdered right before the Taifei’s eyes. The shock drove her mad, giving her dementia.”
Qixue’s eyes widened. “Who killed the Taifei’s daughter?”
“The successor empress, who was then the Rong Consort.”
Eunuch Dong detailed the whole story.
The Rong Consort had been the late emperor’s most favored consort, but she was vicious and loathed the Late Empress intensely. After the Late Empress and Crown Prince both passed, she proposed exiling Helan Ji to the Imperial Mausoleum and harming the Late Empress’s allies.
Xu Taifei was one of them. Learning Xu Taifei had secretly aided Helan Ji, the Rong Consort flew into jealous rage and poisoned her daughter to death before her very eyes.
The poison was vicious; the princess died in agony, her piercing screams echoing through the hall. The matrons held Xu Taifei down, forcing her to watch as her daughter bled from all seven orifices and breathed her last. She went mad on the spot.
The deranged Xu Taifei was locked in the Cold Palace. To torment her, the Rong Consort repeatedly sent beauties there, poisoning them just like her daughter to recreate the horror.
Over time, Xu Taifei’s madness worsened. She instinctively protected beauties, claiming them as daughters—the more beautiful, the stronger her reaction, regardless of gender.
“…”
Qixue ached for Xu Taifei’s ordeal and asked with a complicated expression, “Did you guess early on that the Taifei would claim me as her daughter?”
“Of course.” Eunuch Dong’s eyes narrowed in a smile. “Young Master is so beautiful; she surely wanted to protect you. And indeed, in just days, you’ve caught her eye. Congratulations.”
Qixue fell silent. Eunuch Dong chuckled lightly, his heavily powdered face inscrutable. “Is Young Master upset, feeling I’ve schemed against you—too despicable?”
“No.”
Qixue shook his head. He was uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t blame Eunuch Dong.
He was the one reaping the benefits. Even unknowingly, unless he rejected Xu Taifei’s care and left the palace now, he bore inescapable fault and responsibility.
“I’m just thinking I can’t betray the Taifei’s kindness to me. I must repay her with all my strength.”
Qixue said as much.
He could never leave the palace, and to approach Helan Ji, he needed her help. So he’d return the favor—perhaps by curing her madness or something equally vital.
“Young Master is truly a gentleman who repays kindness.”
Eunuch Dong seemed very pleased, his tone cheerful. “In that case, you’ll surely honor our deal. When Young Master rises in status, I am to serve at your side.”
“I won’t forget, of course.”
Qixue’s lips curved up, suddenly blooming into a smile. “But I’m no upright gentleman. I repay favors—and grudges. I hate being schemed against and won’t tolerate someone who’s plotted against me repeatedly by my side.”
Right—he couldn’t blame Eunuch Dong, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry. If Dong wanted to follow him later, a warning was necessary.
His smile was radiant yet icy, laced with danger, yet soul-stirringly beautiful. Eunuch Dong froze, mesmerized, until Qixue shot him a cold glance. Then he lowered his eyes.
“There won’t be a next time.”
Eunuch Dong’s voice softened. He suddenly knelt and crawled to Qixue’s feet. “From now on, I’m Young Master’s most loyal dog. This worthless life is yours to command. Even if you want me dead, I won’t flinch.”
“Is that so?” Qixue didn’t believe it, saying carelessly, “Then die for me now.”
Eunuch Dong smiled faintly. “As Young Master commands.”
He crawled to the brazier, reached in bare-handed for the scalding coals, and moved to swallow them. Qixue startled and yanked his wrist, knocking the coals away. “Are you mad?”
In moments, Eunuch Dong’s palm blistered badly—heart-piercingly painful—yet he seemed indifferent. “Young Master, see? I didn’t flinch.”
“You…”
Qixue had no choice but to believe. “Your hand’s badly burned. Go get it treated quickly.”
Eunuch Dong wasn’t hurried. “Did Young Master see?”
“I saw.” Qixue was out of patience. “Lord Dong, can you stand? Need help?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Eunuch Dong rose with curved brows. “Young Master can call me by my true name. To please you, even ‘mad dog’ or ‘vile dog’ would do.”
Qixue got goosebumps; he seemed off. “Dong Yuan, you’re not needed here. Leave.”
“Yes.”
Dong Yuan smiled, backing out of the room.
As he left, a flowing black shadow silently slithered out too.
It traveled underground to Chang Le Palace—the dwelling of emperors past and present, where Helan Ji resided after ascending the throne.
The shadow emerged from a dark corner, forming a slender figure that slowly traversed the dim corridor.
Chang Le Palace was poorly lit and bitterly cold. Though lavishly furnished, it lacked vitality—like an ornate coffin.
Flickering candlelight cast slender shadows behind carved doors and windows, eerie and ghostly, with low, spectral sounds.
Helan Ji was a master of witchcraft; these shadows were nightmare demons conjured by his spells. They lurked everywhere, coldly surveilling all. From Qixue’s entry to the palace, this one had followed him.
Moreover, the pill Qixue swallowed—not just preventing erections for eunuchs—contained a nightmare demon. Its true purpose: at Helan Ji’s will, it could seize the pill-taker’s life anytime.
Helan Ji could also link through witchcraft to these demons, peering into the pill-takers’ true emotions.
No matter their facade, they couldn’t deceive him. He sensed their inner states: usually anger, fear, hatred, disgust, deceit, murderous intent.
Aside from Xu Taifei, who doted on him, and Wei Huai, who saw him as a friend, no living soul liked Helan Ji.
But today, something unexpected happened: the eunuch “Sang Xue” harbored extreme fondness for him. The moment he recognized Helan Ji, joy, excitement, and love surged like a torrent.
Helan Ji was certain he’d never met Sang Xue, yet Sang Xue seemed to know him long ago. Those dark, limpid eyes held sorrow and nostalgia, full of tender pity for him.
He did not believe Sang Xue, but several times he had peered into Sang Xue’s heart through the nightmare demon, and the emotions he sensed were identical to what Sang Xue displayed outwardly.
Sang Xue even deliberately concealed his inner feelings, as if he did not want Helan Ji to know how much he liked him.
“…”
The nightmare demon passed through the corridor and entered Helan Ji’s bedchamber. Unlike the other halls, thick drapes hung inside, and several basins of silver-threaded charcoal fires warmed the space to an unusually hot temperature, like the scorching heat of midsummer.
Only in such a sweltering environment did color faintly return to Helan Ji’s pale face, making him look like a normal person.
He propped his chin on his hand, his body slightly tilted as he sat behind the desk. The nightmare demon stood silently before him. He raised his gloomy eyes and looked at the demon responsible for tracking Qixue.
Without needing Helan Ji’s command, the nightmare demon cracked open its pitch-black mouth, and a voice similar to Qixue’s emerged from its throat, imitating words he had spoken.
