The golden staff clattered to the ground with a crisp chime.
The sound startled the black-clad guards hidden in the shadows. Like a flock of black crows, they emerged soundlessly from the darkness and landed one after another, dropping to one knee in salute.
“Your Highness, you were startled.”
Blood covered the floor.
As the candlelight flickered, it looked like an indistinct sea of blood, its surface shimmering ominously.
Ji Xun gathered his robes and stepped down from the bed. Barefoot, he walked across the bodies scattered across the floor. The hem of his black robes dragged through the scarlet pools of blood, slowly soaking them up until the fabric seemed to have drunk its fill, spreading into a strange, dark red.
One of his subordinates knelt on the floor.
“Your Highness has been unconscious for half a month. There has been no movement from the Eastern Palace. We secretly sent people to Jiangnan to search for the renowned physician Bai Ji—”
Ji Xun raised his hand slightly.
The subordinate immediately stopped speaking.
Ji Xun stared at him for a long while before suddenly asking,
“Which one are you?”
The man seemed accustomed to this and answered smoothly, “This subordinate is Yin Chongshan, one of Your Highness’s secret guards. I have followed Your Highness for more than twenty years.”
Ji Xun gave an “Oh,” as though he had finally remembered.
“What day is it?”
“The sixteenth day of the twelfth lunar month.”
Ji Xun asked, “Did you find the renowned physician Bai Ji?”
Yin Chongshan lowered his head.
“No.”
“Didn’t find him?” Ji Xun smiled meaningfully. “Then how did those assassins get here?”
Yin Chongshan froze.
Prince Jing held a special yet awkward position at court. He had offended far too many people and had long since become the infamous “God of Death” whom everyone wanted to see dead.
Rumor had it that the famous physician Bai Ji of Jiangnan possessed extraordinary medical skills and was particularly skilled at treating strange poisons. Half the court was practically praying for Ji Xun to die as soon as possible. Naturally, they would want to kill him before Bai Ji could reach the capital, lest something unexpected happen.
This time, Ji Xun had been unconscious and no one knew whether he would ever wake up. If they hadn’t even managed to find the miraculous physician Bai Ji, how could the assassins have dared to risk an attack on his wedding night?
Yin Chongshan held his breath and carefully answered, “Today’s assassins infiltrated the Prince’s residence by hiding among the wedding procession sent by the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence. Since the marriage was decreed by His Majesty, everything was arranged by the Imperial Household. That was how they managed to slip through the cracks.”
Ji Xun tilted his head.
“Hmm? Who got married?”
“You did.”
Ji Xun seemed to only now notice that the bedchamber had been decorated in bright red for a wedding.
Then, belatedly, he remembered the person with the deathly pale, ghost-like face who had been lying on the bed earlier.
He went, “Ah.”
That was the bride?
He had thought some little ghost had come to claim his life.
Yin Chongshan cautiously watched his master’s expression, trying to determine his attitude toward this marriage.
Ji Xun, however, didn’t seem particularly resistant.
Instead, he asked with interest, “Not bad. Which family’s daughter is she?”
“She is… the young master of the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence.”
The eldest young master of the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence, Chu Zhaohuai, had fainted from the shock, but he woke after only a short while.
The sight of the God of Death killing someone had been far too horrifying. In his dazed state, Chu Zhaohuai thought he had merely suffered a nightmare.
He propped himself up and sat blankly on the bed, still shaken to the core.
Although he lived far away in Jiangnan, he had heard of Prince Jing’s fearsome reputation.
Prince Jing, Ji Xun, had led troops to conquer fourteen border cities at a young age and guarded the frontier for several years, accomplishing feats that would go down in history.
Yet a year ago, he had suffered severe injuries on the battlefield, even losing the use of one leg.
After that, Prince Jing’s temperament changed drastically.
Because he had taken some extremely potent medicines, he developed a form of madness. Whenever an episode struck, he became like an uncontrollable mad dog—violent, deranged, and capable of killing people without batting an eye.
Chu Zhaohuai had originally thought the rumors were probably exaggerated.
Only today did he realize that they hadn’t been exaggerated in the slightest.
He really was insane.
Before Chu Zhaohuai could calm himself, he faintly heard voices outside the bed curtains.
The curtains floated in the cold wind like willow branches, and a voice from his nightmare drifted faintly toward him.
“…Young Master?”
Someone answered, “Yes. The young master of the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence. His Majesty decreed the marriage, and the Imperial Astronomical Bureau selected today as an auspicious day suitable for marriage.”
Chu Zhaohuai froze.
“Who?”
“Chu Zhaojiang.”
Ji Xun still couldn’t remember.
Yin Chongshan, well trained in dealing with his master’s condition, quickly supplied several key details.
“At the end of the eleventh lunar month, His Majesty decreed the marriage. Chu Zhaojiang caused a scene in the middle of the street, crying and cursing Your Highness, calling you a short-lived ghost and a dead pervert. He said he would rather die than marry you.”
Ji Xun had taken those powerful medicines, leaving his mind clear at times and muddled at others.
At the beginning of the eleventh lunar month, he had suffered an episode in court and gotten into a confrontation with Marquis Chu Jing.
When His Majesty casually mentioned that Ji Xun should start a family, he had laughed and said directly,
“I think the young master of the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence would be quite suitable. Imperial Brother, give him to me.”
His words made it sound as though the pampered young master of the Marquis’s residence were merely an object that could be casually given away for his amusement.
Chu Jing had been so furious that he had nearly drawn his sword right there in court.
Everyone at court had assumed that Ji Xun was merely joking.
Who could have expected that three days later, an imperial decree granting the marriage would arrive at the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence?
Ji Xun said, “Hmm. I remember now.”
Chu Zhaohuai: “……”
He had cursed him in public?
Chu Zhaohuai nearly suffered another heart attack and fainted again. He covered his chest and struggled through another wave of palpitations.
At the beginning of the twelfth lunar month, Chu Jing—who hadn’t cared about him for more than a decade—had suddenly sent an urgent letter to Lin’an, claiming that his grandmother was seriously ill and ordering him to return to the capital.
After traveling thousands of li back to the Marquis’s residence, Chu Zhaohuai had immediately been shoved into a bridal sedan and sent to Prince Jing’s residence.
He had thought his bad luck was simply the reason he had somehow been mistakenly chosen for the imperial marriage.
He had never imagined that the entire capital knew the “young master” named in the imperial decree was actually Chu Zhaojiang.
Chu Zhaohuai’s stomach churned.
He had no emotional attachment to the Marquis’s residence. In fact, he had always planned to remain in Jiangnan for the rest of his life.
He had never once considered returning to the capital to compete with these people for the title of Marquis.
Chu Zhaojiang had publicly gone mad and cursed Prince Jing. Ji Xun had been unconscious the whole time, so perhaps things had been fine.
But now that Ji Xun was completely awake—
Given how he had casually driven that staff through a man’s body, would he possibly spare the “Chu Zhaojiang” who had insulted him?
Chu Jing was clearly indifferent to whether Chu Zhaohuai lived or died.
He even seemed to want Chu Zhaohuai to die in Prince Jing’s residence.
Chu Zhaohuai’s vision darkened. His ears rang, and he nearly collapsed again.
After the dizziness finally subsided, a cool, crisp scent like melting snow suddenly drifted into his nose.
He looked up in a daze.
Ji Xun had appeared at some point.
Brocade embroidered with golden patterns adorned the hem of his black robes. His bearing was elegant and noble, unmistakably that of an imperial descendant.
He sat lazily at the edge of the bed.
There was no sign of a limp.
Nor was there any sign of madness.
“Did I really frighten you?” Ji Xun was very fond of smiling. His eyes and expression could even be described as gentle. He teased, “I heard the young master learned martial arts under General Huang and even hunted snow wolves when he was a child. Such a brave and fearless man—how did seeing a little blood today make your face turn so pale?”
His voice was as gentle as a spring breeze.
Yet Chu Zhaohuai suddenly shuddered.
Ji Xun was still smiling, but if one looked closely at his eyes, there was not the slightest trace of amusement in them.
Only bone-deep coldness.
The indifferent gaze one would give a corpse.
“I…”
Chu Zhaohuai’s throat was dry.
He swallowed with difficulty, swallowing the denial along with it.
Regardless of whether the imperial decree had explicitly named anyone, even Ji Xun’s own guards believed that the person who had married into the residence was Chu Zhaojiang.
That meant Chu Jing had clearly never told Prince Jing the truth about the substitute marriage.
If Chu Zhaohuai admitted on his wedding night that he wasn’t Chu Zhaojiang, then Ji Xun—having been deceived—would undoubtedly fly into a rage.
And Chu Zhaohuai would be the only person there to bear the full force of that rage.
Whether he would survive was anyone’s guess.
Even if Prince Jing’s residence and the Imperial Palace investigated the matter, Chu Jing could simply claim that the “young master” mentioned in the imperial decree referred to the legitimate eldest son of the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence.
What a convenient excuse.
Chu Jing had tricked Chu Zhaohuai into the bridal sedan while hiding Chu Zhaojiang inside the Marquis’s residence.
Once Chu Zhaohuai’s true identity was exposed on the wedding night and the truth about the “substitute marriage” became known throughout the world, it wouldn’t matter whether Chu Zhaohuai lived or died.
Chu Zhaojiang would regain his freedom and continue living without a care in the world as the rightful “young master” of the Marquis’s residence.
Kill two birds with one stone.
What a clever scheme.
Chu Zhaohuai clutched his chest, his face deathly pale.
They certainly had a beautiful plan.
Perhaps he had been pushed too far.
With the God of Death standing right in front of him, Chu Zhaohuai unexpectedly stopped being afraid.
Instead, a slightly unhinged thought calmly surfaced in his mind.
The truth about the substitute marriage would eventually be discovered.
Rather than endure Ji Xun’s wrath alone, why not hold on until the day he returned to his family home and drag the entire Chu family into the mess with him?
If the Marquis’s residence wanted him dead, then none of them should expect to live peacefully.
Chu Zhaohuai did not deny being the “young master.”
He said calmly, “I wasn’t frightened. I was hungry. Weddings are complicated, and I haven’t had a drop of water all day. My legs simply gave out just now.”
Ji Xun raised an eyebrow.
“So I was mistaken. The young master actually fainted from hunger just now.”
Chu Zhaohuai nodded.
“Exactly.”
Ji Xun reached out and rubbed two fingers across Chu Zhaohuai’s cheek.
Looking at the white powder that had rubbed onto his fingertips, he smiled.
“Didn’t you bring half the Marquis’s grain reserves on your face? You could probably scrape off a piece of this powder and eat it for six months. How could you possibly be hungry?”
Chu Zhaohuai: “……”
What a vicious mouth.
Perhaps Ji Xun noticed the faint look in Chu Zhaohuai’s eyes that was somewhere between a glare and a curse.
For some reason, his mood seemed to improve considerably.
He clapped his hands.
“Chongshan, prepare some food for the young master.”
Chu Zhaohuai froze.
For the past two days, Chu Jing had locked him in a drafty side courtyard without giving him anything to eat. After everything he had endured today, he was already starving.
Hearing this, he could hardly believe that the God of Death could actually possess such kindness.
Soon, several maids entered in succession and silently arranged the dishes on the table.
The bodies and pools of blood beside the bed had somehow disappeared.
If there weren’t still faint traces of blood in the air, Chu Zhaohuai might have thought it had all been a dream.
He cautiously lifted the bed curtains and climbed down.
Indeed, the table was filled with delicacies.
Unfortunately, they were all cold.
But having food was already better than nothing.
Chu Zhaohuai didn’t complain. Forgetting all etiquette, he sat down and casually picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks.
Before he could swallow it, Ji Xun, who was sitting by the window watching the snow, spoke leisurely.
“Chu Jing sent you here with the intention of having you kill me. You had such a perfect opportunity just now. Why didn’t you do it?”
Chu Zhaohuai: “……”
He nearly spat out the food he hadn’t swallowed.
Kill—kill someone?
Had Chu Jing actually assigned him such a difficult task?
Chu Zhaohuai pretended to remain calm.
“Your Highness must be joking. Although my father and you have different political views, you’re both officials serving the same court. How could he commit such a treasonous act and harbor murderous intentions toward a member of the imperial family?”
Ji Xun seemed to enjoy this sanctimonious answer very much.
He nodded in satisfaction.
Seeing that Chu Zhaohuai had stopped moving his chopsticks, he considerately asked, “Didn’t you say you were hungry? Why have you stopped eating?”
Chu Zhaohuai saw that he had no intention of pursuing the matter and breathed a partial sigh of relief.
He picked up his chopsticks again and took another bite.
The moment he put it into his mouth, Ji Xun spoke again.
“Among the assassins who attacked just now, half of them hid inside the wedding dowry chests carried over from the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s residence and infiltrated the palace while waiting for a chance to kill me. Do you have any idea how that happened?”
Chu Zhaohuai: “……”
This time, he really coughed as though he were about to cough his lungs out.
He stared at Ji Xun in shock.
The assassins had hidden inside the dowry chests?
Then wouldn’t that mean…
As the realization struck him, Chu Zhaohuai’s face turned as pale as gold paper.
Ji Xun’s tone remained as casual as ever.
But Yin Chongshan, who stood nearby, could hear the murderous intent hidden beneath his master’s voice.
He secretly glanced toward Chu Zhaohuai.
His Majesty had decreed the marriage, and Chu Zhaojiang was a noble young master. Under normal circumstances, he couldn’t be killed on his wedding night.
But if Ji Xun’s madness flared up, then even if His Majesty punished him afterward, he would probably kill this person first simply to satisfy his rage.
The bridal chamber fell silent.
Ji Xun wiped the last drop of blood from the dove-headed staff.
His pale fingertip gently stroked its golden head.
It seemed that in the next instant, he could casually drive it through Chu Zhaohuai’s chest and pierce his heart.
Yin Chongshan’s breathing tightened.
Finally, Chu Zhaohuai spoke.
He asked blankly,
“Then… what about the dowry?”
If assassins had been hiding inside the chests, then hadn’t that damn well meant that more than a dozen chests of his dowry were missing?!
Yin Chongshan had experienced countless battles. Even when blades and axes came crashing down upon him, he could remain completely expressionless.
Yet now, he was utterly stunned by a single casual question.
The important thing was the dowry?!
Ji Xun’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
Then, suddenly, he smiled again.
He comforted Chu Zhaohuai gently.
“Only twenty or thirty chests are missing. Besides, half of the remaining ones were empty anyway. Princess Consort, there’s no need to worry.”
Chu Zhaohuai clutched his chest.
He nearly fainted again.
Half of the one hundred and twenty chests of dowry Chu Jing had promised him were empty.
That blow was even more devastating than learning that Chu Jing had schemed against him.
He was so furious that he nearly spat blood.
With a sharp slap, Chu Zhaohuai put down his chopsticks.
Ji Xun asked, “You’re not eating anymore?”
Chu Zhaohuai pressed a hand against his chest and answered weakly,
“I’m full.”
He was full of anger.
More importantly, he was afraid that if he kept eating, Ji Xun would deliberately say something else to scare him again.
This man’s personality was terrible.
He was the sort who did nasty things with a perfectly innocent face.
Ji Xun smiled and beckoned to him.
“Come here.”
Chu Zhaohuai had no idea that he had just walked back and forth across the gates of hell.
He supported himself on his weak legs and slowly returned to the bed.
Ji Xun smiled at him.
His expression was as gentle as water, yet the light in his eyes held the cold glint of a drawn blade.
His voice was frighteningly soft as he asked, seemingly out of nowhere,
“My memory isn’t very good. Princess Consort, what’s your name?”
Chu Zhaohuai’s breathing stopped.
Almost instinctively, he blurted out the answer.
He braced himself and replied,
“Chu Zhaojiang.”
Ji Xun scrutinized him for a long time.
No one knew what he had noticed.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
“Good. Since this is our wedding, then let’s drink the nuptial wine and consummate the marriage.”