“Ouch.”
It was midday, and the scorching sun hung high in the sky.
At the Huanqiu Altar in the southern outskirts of the Mo Dynasty, sacrificial officials in gorgeous robes knelt tremblingly, none daring to raise their heads.
The Grand Ceremony of Sacrifice to Heaven, meant to be celebrated by the Emperor of Mo for subduing Western Xia, had been abruptly halted due to a sudden assassination attempt.
Chu Yi, the master planner behind this sacrificial ceremony, was currently kneeling before the Emperor. He had originally planned to pack his bags and run for his life amidst the chaos of the assassination.
Yet who would have thought that less than two miles into his escape, imperial guards would block his path? He was promptly dragged back before the Emperor in utter disgrace.
About the time it takes to burn half a stick of incense, Chu Yi had transmigrated into this world.
This was a story of court intrigue.
In the book, the three realms of Da Mo, Qianlin, and Western Xia were locked in a tripartite division, and the male protagonist was none other than the Emperor of Da Mo.
Although this male protagonist was the eldest son born after the late Emperor’s ascension, he was the child of the Emperor and a palace maid. He had received no favor since childhood and was constantly abused by the Empress. Perhaps because the late Emperor had ascended the throne with the support of the Empress’s maternal clan, he simply turned a blind eye to her mistreatment of the male protagonist.
Consequently, the male protagonist was locked away in the Cold Palace from a young age, where even the palace slaves cared nothing for his status as an imperial prince. Over time, the male protagonist developed a ruthless, cold-blooded, and merciless personality, ultimately embarking on the path of patricide and usurping power.
After ascending the throne, the male protagonist purged all treacherous officials from the previous regime and executed every dissenting faction. To consolidate imperial power, he led a personal military campaign, conquering the traitorous Western Xia in a single year.
Chu Yi had transmigrated into a military strategist in the book who shared his exact name. After the male protagonist’s ascension, he was immediately appointed as the Prince Regent, wielding immense authority over state affairs. However, as the male protagonist grew older and more suspicious over time, the two gradually drifted apart. Eventually, consumed by the Emperor’s paranoia, Chu Yi died after being framed by sycophants, facing death by a thousand cuts with his corpse hung from the city walls.
Chu Yi had no desire to be a scapegoat. Casting a rough glance at the room’s layout, and feeling intensely thirsty perhaps due to the tense atmosphere, he picked up a cup of already-brewed tea on the table and took a sip.
He tasted a hint of bitterness, but simply attributed it to the poor water quality of ancient times. Rummaging through the room for all available money, Chu Yi quickly packed his bags. Amidst the panic, the commotion outside caught his attention. Seeing everyone fleeing in terror, he grabbed his bundle and slipped away down a narrow alley without looking back.
Throughout his escape, he only noticed he was sweating profusely, never expecting to be caught.
Right now, kneeling before the male protagonist, the sweat on his body seemed to pour out even more uncontrollably.
Sheng Qianheng stared fixedly at the flushed, lotus-tinted skin of Chu Yi’s neck, a sudden urge compelling him to reach out. Yet, remembering the rift that had grown between them since his ascension, his hand ultimately stopped, coming to rest only upon the other man’s shoulder. He asked, “Chu Yi, the imperial guards said they caught an assassin. Why is it that you were the one dragged before Us?”
Whether due to tension or some other reason, Chu Yi felt dizzy. He managed a shaky reply, “Your Majesty, it is only natural the imperial guards did not recognize me. I was patrolling the area on your behalf, searching for the assassin.”
Sheng Qianheng instructed the eunuch beside him to pass along a command, then brought Chu Yi and the guards who captured him into a nearby room.
Sheng Qianheng ignored Chu Yi’s previous words. However, the moment he stepped inside, he seemed to catch the faint scent of a Kunze in the air. He stood up, lifted his gaze, and asked the guard, “Are you a Zhongyong?”
The guard replied, “Replying to Your Majesty, yes.”
Sheng Qianheng spoke coldly, though his own Qianye pheromones were already pressing down so heavily that the guard could barely keep standing: “Reeking entirely of a Kunze, and you’re this fond of mingling? Is this how you handle tasks for Us in ordinary times? Get out of here at once.”
Chu Yi followed close behind Sheng Qianheng. Moments after entering the room, his legs grew unbearably weak, leaving him with no choice but to kneel to the side.
Struggling to steady his breathing, a troubling thought crossed his mind: Could there be something wrong with that cup of tea he drank earlier? Why was he growing weaker by the minute?
A faint, wispy fragrance seemed to drift past the tip of Chu Yi’s nose, though he couldn’t quite catch it clearly. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind so he could handle the male protagonist and resume his escape.
The guards had already obediently retreated from the room, leaving only Chu Yi and Sheng Qianheng behind.
Yet Sheng Qianheng could still smell the scent of a Kunze. Lowering his gaze toward Chu Yi, he crouched down in disbelief, grabbed his collar, and took a sniff to confirm the source of the scent. “Chu Yi, aren’t you a Zhongyong? Why do you carry the scent of a Kunze? Didn’t you swear an oath to Me that I would take no concubines and you would never marry? Is this your way of seeking pleasure and breaking your vow to Me?”
Chu Yi’s consciousness was gradually clouding over. Pulled close to Sheng Qianheng, he felt even dizzier, barely comprehending the meaning of the barrage of questions. Raising tear-filled, watery eyes, he murmured, “Hot. Please help me.”
Sheng Qianheng rarely saw Chu Yi in such a state. In normal times, the man always maintained a desireless demeanor, showing any hint of annoyance only when discussing state affairs with him.
In disbelief, Sheng Qianheng released his grip on Chu Yi’s collar. Inhaling carefully, he traced the pheromone scent drifting from the back of Chu Yi’s neck. He reached out, preparing to brush aside the raven hair draped over Chu Yi’s shoulders to inspect the back of his neck.
As Sheng Qianheng leaned in, Chu Yi caught the scent radiating from him, a fragrance that seemed to soothe his burning discomfort. Completely beyond his own control, his body lost strength and he instinctively threw himself into Sheng Qianheng’s arms. Knowing only that the person before him could alleviate the burning heat in his body, Chu Yi frantically tugged at Sheng Qianheng’s collar.
Knocked to the floor by Chu Yi, Sheng Qianheng made sure to catch him securely. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he pinched Chu Yi’s chin and asked, “Chu Yi, do you know what you are doing?”
Chu Yi nodded in a daze.
“I asked you, why were you fleeing with a bundle?” Sheng Qianheng probed, watching the hazy depths of Chu Yi’s eyes. “Did you arrange for someone to assassinate Me?”
Flashing fragments of the book’s plot crossed Chu Yi’s mind. He hadn’t hired any assassin; he was merely a scapegoat for the rebels. Pressing both hands against Sheng Qianheng’s chest, he forced out a coherent sentence: “It wasn’t me. You have to believe me.”
The moment those words fell, a tear slipped from the corner of his eye, landing right on Sheng Qianheng’s cheek.
Supporting Chu Yi as he sat up, Sheng Qianheng raised a hand to wipe away his tears. Chu Yi softly rubbed his cheek against Sheng Qianheng’s palm at the contact. “Believe me, I beg you.”
Sheng Qianheng, previously half-doubtful, instantly cast aside all hesitation. Though he couldn’t understand why Chu Yi, a Zhongyong, was exuding the scent of a Kunze, he could no longer let his pheromones scatter unchecked.
He quickly scooped Chu Yi up in his arms. The moment Chu Yi rested against his shoulder, the intoxicating scent of a Kunze washed over him, shaking his own self-control.
Glancing around the room, Sheng Qianheng grabbed a cloak and draped it carefully over Chu Yi’s face, thinking that his identity and pheromone scent must not be exposed.
Ensuring Chu Yi’s face was completely covered, Sheng Qianheng carried him toward his own bedchamber. Before stepping inside, he instructed strictly, “No one is permitted to enter without a summons. Have the imperial physician wait in the side hall.”
Pitch darkness descended upon Chu Yi’s vision. Amidst a dizzying spin, he felt himself being placed gently upon the mattress.
A dry, unbearable heat scorched his body, and everything around him appeared blurred and indistinct. Clinging to the edge of the bed, Chu Yi pulled himself up into a sitting position. Glancing down at his garments, he realized ripping open his clothes to let out the heat was his only option.
Through his hazy vision, he barely made out a figure standing before him and whispered, “Help me, it’s so hot.”
The overwhelming Kunze pheromones in the room were stirring a restless heat within Sheng Qianheng. He turned his back and closed his eyes, fighting to keep himself from being consumed by the pheromone mist. When he turned back to face Chu Yi, what met his eyes was a breathtaking, alluring scene.
Chu Yi’s garments hung loosely from his arms, leaving almost his entire chest bare to the cool air. His skin was flushed with a soft, lotus-like hue. Muddle-headed and entirely unaware of what he was doing, he slowly reached out to touch the person before him, pleading, “Hot. Won’t you help me?”
Sheng Qianheng instinctively raised a hand to catch Chu Yi’s fingers, but pulled them back behind his back a moment later. At this point, he was entirely certain that Chu Yi had undergone secondary differentiation and entered his very first heat cycle as a Kunze.
A Kunze in heat was almost completely at the mercy of their pheromones, and any Qianye could help them soothe the fever. Yet he refused an ambiguous relationship with Chu Yi, nor could he ever bear the thought of Chu Yi bonding with any other Qianye. Once more, he asked, “Chu Yi, do you know who I am?”
Chu Yi gave a slight shake of his head. Trying to kneel upright, he accidentally tipped forward. The moment he pressed against the silk fabric of Sheng Qianheng’s robe, the heat on his skin subsided slightly. Resting against Sheng Qianheng’s chest, he relied on his remaining sliver of reason to murmur, “I heard them call you Your Majesty. Then you must be my Emperor.”
Sheng Qianheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The mating pheromones of a Kunze drifted endlessly from the back of Chu Yi’s neck, an unmistakable enticement whose meaning he understood all too well. As a vigorous young Qianye, he was rapidly losing the ability to suppress his darkest impulses.
Over the years since his ascension, for reasons unknown, he and Chu Yi had drifted apart. This was never what he wanted.
“Chu Yi, do you know what you are doing?”
Chu Yi reached out again to fumble with Sheng Qianheng’s already loosening robes, only for his wrists to be caught the next second. Tilting his head with blurred vision, he answered, “I’m so hot. Can Your Majesty help me?”
Sheng Qianheng pinched Chu Yi’s chin, applying just enough pressure to try and snap him back to lucidity. “Do you truly know what you are doing? Will you regret this?”
Chu Yi only knew that the faint fragrance emanating from Sheng Qianheng was wonderful, that the burning heat inside him was agonizing, and that Sheng Qianheng could bring him relief. “I’m uncomfortable. Help me, I beg you.”
With his last shred of willpower, Sheng Qianheng asked one final time, “No regrets?”
Chu Yi couldn’t understand why he would regret seeking relief from the heat. Why would he regret anything when he was just trying to untie his clothes? He had no idea what kind of garments he was wearing; they were layered inside and out, completely impossible to peel off and far too complicated.
“No regrets. Why would I regret it? If you won’t help me, I’ll go find someone else.”
Before Chu Yi could finish, his words were effectively cut off as Sheng Qianheng captured his lips. Amidst the collision of teeth and lips, he clutched the other man’s lapels, refusing to let go until he made direct contact with Sheng Qianheng’s skin.
Sheng Qianheng nibbled lightly at the corner of Chu Yi’s mouth, letting go only when he heard a soft whimpering sound. “Chu Yi, who am I?”
Breathing shallowly with hazy eyes, Chu Yi recognized the man before him as the male protagonist from the book and replied, “You are Sheng Qianheng.”
Only then did Sheng Qianheng yield, letting Chu Yi have his way. Chu Yi straddled his lap smoothly, his hands clawing clumsily at the other’s lapels, though his movements lacked strength, feeling utterly soft and feeble.
Amidst the motion, the hairpin in his hair began to wobble. Fearing it might scratch someone, Sheng Qianheng reached up and pulled it out. In an instant, Chu Yi’s cascade of raven hair tumbled down, brushing past Sheng Qianheng’s nose and leaving a delicate fragrance behind.
The collar that Chu Yi had pulled open earlier was now even more disheveled. Looking up, he was practically half-naked, a sight that stirred endless imagination.
Chu Yi took Sheng Qianheng’s hand and guided it down to rest against his waist, his eyes swimming with moisture. “Hot. Why won’t you help me?”
The corners of Sheng Qianheng’s lips curled upward as a soft, involuntary laugh escaped him. The Chu Yi before him seemed to have regressed to how he was years ago. “If we do this, won’t you feel terribly shy once you’re sober?”
“What?” Chu Yi tilted his head, staring blankly at Sheng Qianheng.
The room was already thick with the aroused pheromones radiating from Chu Yi. No matter how ironclad Sheng Qianheng’s willpower was, he could no longer resist them. His chest heaved as he gripped Chu Yi’s trembling arms and, with a single fluid motion, pinned him beneath him.
Sheng Qianheng cupped the back of Chu Yi’s head with one hand, drawing upon his final reserves of resolve as he stared down at the person beneath him, his voice raspy. “I will help you through your heat. Alright?”
Chu Yi didn’t understand what a heat cycle was, but simply being in such close physical contact with Sheng Qianheng brought relief to his discomfort. Without a moment’s hesitation, he nodded.
The midday light filtered through the lattice window, spilling into the room as the faint sound of breathing drifted softly from the bed.
Sunlight slowly crept up the face of the beauty resting on the mattress. Chu Yi’s brows knitted tightly together, and tears rolled down from his eyelashes like broken beads.
No matter how Sheng Qianheng tried to soothe the person beneath him, it was of no use. Pressing his thumb against the small mole behind Chu Yi’s ear, he kissed his earlobe. “Chu Yi.”
Chu Yi shook his head weakly.
Planting both hands against Sheng Qianheng’s chest, Chu Yi’s weak arms were entirely incapable of pushing the man away, leaving him with no choice but to bite down hard onto Sheng Qianheng’s shoulder.
Sheng Qianheng massaged the back of Chu Yi’s head with his palm, gradually releasing his own pheromones. Only when Chu Yi began to relax under the soothing influence of his scent did he finally let out a breath.
Stunned by the sudden wave of intensity, Chu Yi bit down hard enough to draw blood from Sheng Qianheng’s shoulder. Tasting a hint of metallic iron, he finally loosened his bite. With tear-stained eyes, he stared blankly at the sweat beading along Sheng Qianheng’s temples, speaking in a halting whisper: “Uncomfortable.”
Cupping Chu Yi’s flushed cheeks in both hands, Sheng Qianheng kissed his lips and coaxed him gently, “You’ll feel comfortable in a moment. Be a good boy.”
Chu Yi didn’t understand why Sheng Qianheng seemed almost fanatically obsessed with nuzzling and licking the back of his neck, but he found himself enjoying the sensation immensely, as it brought him profound comfort.
Moments later, sharp canines pierced deeply into his skin, injecting a potent surge of pheromones that slowly placated the frantic, burning cravings of the Kunze currently caught in his heat.
“Chu Yi, Chu Qingci, you had better wake up and never try to run away again.”