Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fu Ye stirred awake hazily, his entire body aching and burning up with fever.

"What happened?"

Xiao Ai: "I gave you a new persona—a frail, delicate beauty that inspires pity. Even a tyrant would soften toward someone so fragile and pretty."

"Thanks a lot."

As he opened his eyes, he met a piercing, predatory gaze. A man with an ashen complexion was staring down at him.

He was gaunt, but not weakly so—his leanness was sharp and unyielding, like a sword steeped in lifelessness. His narrow, single-lidded eyes slanted slightly upward at the corners, giving him a jaded viciousness.

Even if he were to favor someone, it would be while stepping on their throat.

Fu Ye: "..."

Maybe pretending to sleep was better.

"Your Highness, you're awake." An elderly eunuch immediately leaned in slightly.

Judging by his attire, he seemed far more distinguished than the other attendants—likely the chief eunuch.

Seeing no way to keep up the act, Fu Ye had no choice but to sit up. Meeting those narrow eyes again, he put on a panicked act: "Your Majesty."

The corner of the quilt slipped, revealing a slender, pale neck—glowing and flawless like jade.

"You’ve changed since childhood," the man suddenly remarked.

Fu Ye: "!!"

"Faces change with age, especially in the eyes and brows," the old eunuch said. "But in this old servant's opinion, Your Highness's lips and chin are the spitting image of His Majesty's."

The comment made Fu Ye think of Consort Ling from *My Fair Princess*.

As a child, he’d thought her an angel, but now he realized she was a shrewd player in palace schemes. Just as he was about to assess whether this eunuch was genuinely kind or scheming, fingers clamped around his chin.

The fingers were long, their joints tinged bluish-black, but the fingertips were rough—not a nobleman’s pampered hands.

The man tilted Fu Ye’s chin, examining him.

His hand was scorching hot, his eyes bloodshot—was the emperor high on something?!

Fu Ye didn’t dare move.

The coppery tang of blood rose in his throat. Fu Ye quickly pressed his lips together.

Thankfully, Xiao Ai had held back—he only tasted a faint coppery tang before swallowing it back. Trying to appear ingratiating, he mustered a meek smile, only for the man to immediately release his chin like he’d seen a specter.

...

Was his smile *that* horrifying?

He’d transmigrated into this body, and plenty of people had told him his smile was heart-stoppingly gorgeous!

The man stood, wiping his fingers as if disgusted by Fu Ye’s unnaturally flawless skin.

The old eunuch said, "Does Your Highness recall this palace? His Majesty and you once shared quarters in Qingyuan Palace’s east wing."

Fu Ye could have claimed he didn't remember.

After all, His Sixth Highness was only six years old when he disappeared, and many people don't remember much from before that age.

But now, he was committed to the persona of "answering questions about palace affairs with perfect recall," clearly taking the route of having an excellent memory.

"Xiao Ai!"

Xiao Ai: "The hall looks just like it did before."

Fu Ye quickly followed her lead, pretending to look around: "The furnishings here haven’t changed at all."

The emperor, now at the doorway, turned back upon hearing this.

The old eunuch beamed with delight: "Indeed, His Majesty has never allowed anyone to alter the east side hall."

Xiao Ai: "But brother, you've changed so much."

Fu Ye: "..."

His gaze fell on Fu Huang's face.

He gave a weak cough, playing up his frailty: "As for Your Majesty, I almost didn’t recognize you."

"..." Eunuch Qin's face instantly paled.

Fu Ye gasped and sank back onto the moon-white cloud-patterned pillow, his dark hair spilling out, his cheeks flushed, looking so pale and fragile that even Eunuch Qin was startled. He glanced at Fu Huang, only to see him lower his eyelids without a word before leaving.

Eunuch Qin said quickly, "His Majesty is indeed somewhat different from before. Your Highness must be more careful with your words."

Though the emperor had left, numerous sword-bearing Black Armor Guards stood watch outside.

Eunuch Qin explained: "These are inner palace guards, here to protect you. Just pretend they don’t exist."

System: "Tyrants sure are careful."

Fu Ye had no time to dwell on such matters. The hall was so warm, and it had been ages since he'd slept this well.

"The imperial physician has just examined your pulse and said you are too weak and need rest. His Majesty said you may stay here as long as you wish. If you need anything, simply instruct the attendants around you." With a light clap of his hands, a young eunuch in blue robes stepped forward. He appeared to be in his early twenties, good-looking though tight-lipped, as he bowed respectfully.

"This is Qing Xi. From now on, he will lead the palace servants in attending to Your Highness. If you have any requests, just tell him."

Though Qing Xi’s name sounded auspicious, what was so 'joyful' about him? His demeanor clearly marked him as someone from the emperor’s side—lean, silent, and precise in his movements.

Too exhausted to care, Fu Ye nodded and lay back down. The Inner Officials drew the curtains, leaving the room dead silent. Even Qing Xi, standing outside the curtains, looked like a paper cutout—thin and lifeless.

He didn’t actually want to sleep.

Afraid of dying in his sleep.

Xiao Ai: "Sleep. I’ll check the full story for you."

True enough, as soon as the sixth prince fainted upon arriving at Qingyuan Palace, Eunuch Qin knew the empress dowager would be difficult to appease. Sure enough, just as the prince had fallen asleep, a delegation of court ladies in ornate palace robes made their way through the heavy snowfall into the courtyard.

Eunuch Qin hurried forward and bowed: "Palace Matron Sun."

Palace Matron Sun gave a slight nod: "I'm here on the empress dowager's orders to visit Your Highness."

Eunuch Qin said, "His Sixth Highness has just taken medicine and fallen asleep."

Palace Matron Sun's expression was rather cold. "Her Majesty insisted that I go in and see His Highness."

Eunuch Qin quickly replied, "Of course."

Palace Matron Sun then led her attendants toward the eastern side hall. Before entering, she glanced back and saw Eunuch Qin had already gone into the main hall.

Before long, when they emerged from the side hall, they saw Eunuch Qin and others standing in the courtyard with two imperial physicians. Black-Armored Guards were stationed along the corridors and inside the hall, turning the small eastern annex into something like a prison.

Eunuch Qin said, "His Majesty said that he would trouble Palace Matron Sun to bring the physicians back to deliver a message to Her Majesty the Empress Dowager." He tried to soften Fu Huang's words. "His Sixth Highness is frail. Her Majesty should be aware of his condition, so that if anything unfortunate happens, it won’t be difficult to explain."

"Ci'en Palace has ample staff and wouldn’t mind taking His Sixth Highness in. However, Her Majesty can’t very well insist," Palace Matron Sun replied.

Eunuch Qin lowered his hands and remained silent. Palace Matron Sun then led her attendants away.

Once outside, Palace Matron Sun finally let out a sigh of relief.

This was an awful task she truly didn’t want to handle. Yet, within Ci'en Palace, she was the only one with enough clout. Fortunately, she usually dealt with Eunuch Qin, so at least both her dignity and the Empress Dowager’s were preserved.

She could just picture the emperor’s exact words:

"Lest one day the Sixth Prince dies, and Her Majesty blames me for it."

Though the emperor appeared reckless, his thoughts ran deep. No one knew why he insisted on keeping His Sixth Highness by his side. The snow lay thick and cold, and a wind whistled through the long palace corridors. She turned back to look at the solemn and remote Qingyuan Palace. Suddenly, a flock of crows burst forth, their dark swarm startling her, making the place feel even more desolate and frigid.

Qingyuan Palace was where the emperor had lived as a child. Back then, she had often visited. The emperor was still young then, calling her "Auntie"—so proper and courteous. Now, looking back, it was like a different world.

Eunuch Qin returned to the main hall of Qingyuan Palace and reported, "Palace Matron Sun has left."

Fu Huang said nothing. Nearby, young eunuchs were sorting through memorials, the only sound the rustling of paper. He picked up a memorial and skimmed it, his interest clearly fading.

Eunuch Qin observed for a moment before saying, "Your Majesty, there is no doubt that this man is indeed His Sixth Highness."

Fu Huang replied, "Real or not, he is now."

That was true.

The old palace servants acknowledged him, the Empress Dowager acknowledged him, and now even the emperor acknowledged him.

This acceptance was likely given, at least in part, out of respect for the late Lady Zhaoyang.

After all, His Majesty and the Sixth Prince had once lived together under Lady Zhaoyang’s care for a time. Though it wasn’t exactly happy, compared to the other princes, this Sixth Prince was somewhat special, wasn’t he?

Had the Sixth Prince never gone missing and remained in the palace all along, would His Majesty still be so... alone as he is now?

As he pondered, Fu Huang suddenly remarked, "Still, he does seem genuine. That fake way of his is just like his mother’s."

"..."

Well, he had overthought it.

Clearly, the time His Majesty had spent with the Sixth Prince under Lady Zhaoyang’s care had been even worse than he’d thought.

Quietly, he said a prayer for the newly returned Sixth Prince in the side hall.

Fu Ye slept deeply and woke up feeling refreshed. So much time had gone by—had Xiao Ai found out anything more?

"Xiao Ai, Xiao Ai." Xiao Ai wasn’t there.

He had his hands full.

He didn’t even have his own personal system!

Fortunately, the emperor hadn’t shown up again in days. Aside from being confined to this courtyard, he was doing pretty well. The Empress Dowager kept sending people over with tonics, which had him looking livelier.

By the seventh day, he finally got the chance to leave the courtyard.

The Empress Dowager had summoned him.

Though he hadn’t yet met the Empress Dowager in person, she had been sending a matronly figure called Aunt Sun to check on him almost daily. While imperial families lacked genuine familial affection, compared to the downright terrifying emperor, the Empress Dowager at least showed him considerable care.

However, going out wasn’t easy. Getting dressed alone took half the day. It was cold outside, so Qing Xi helped him into a red cloak bestowed by the Empress Dowager, with layers upon layers of fancy robes underneath. His skinny, weak frame could barely handle the weight—just the clothes alone weighed over ten pounds. After only a few steps, he was panting from exhaustion. Though many attendants surrounded him, not so much as a cough was heard. Whether it was the Inner Officials or the court ladies like Aunt Sun, their court outfits were weirdly stiff—their collars were stiff, with a white band pressing against their throats, likely reinforced with rigid lining. Even a tiny nod jabbed at the throat, presumably to enforce proper posture.

This palace was bizarre. The emperor was a wild card, yet the palace staff moved like mindless robots.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was trapped in a dream—a fancy but creepy nightmare. Glancing at his reflection in the bronze mirror, he saw a face that wasn’t delicately beautiful but straight-up stunning. Though gaunt and weary, his allure remained undiminished. These days of care had restored his complexion to a flawless jade-like sheen, radiant and luminous. It was his own face, though his hair was now much longer, cascading past his waist, jet-black like ink.

His hair was even more eye-catching than his face.

He thought the buff Xiao Ai had given him was a bit unrealistic. In ancient times, nobles and commoners could usually be distinguished at a glance—not just by clothing, but by physical traits like teeth and skin. As someone who had wandered abroad, living in hunger and deprivation, he should have been emaciated, with sharp cheekbones and a sickly pallor—not much better than his ghostly imperial brother. Logically, someone malnourished shouldn’t have such luxuriant hair.

No shampoo could’ve given him hair this good!

*"You don’t understand. Lady Zhaoyang, the birth mother of the Sixth Prince, was favored precisely because of her beautiful hair. This is the crucial buff that lets you pass as him!"*

*"You finally showed up!"* Fu Ye shot back. *"How many hosts are you handling now?"*

*"Hmm, you’re my 003572nd host."*

Fu Ye: *"..."*

*"The main system’s brutal. This job sucks. Speaking of hair, I’m so busy I’m going bald. If I retire and don’t get to live as a carefree noble, I swear I’ll sue."*

Fu Ye: *"..."*

After years in the Quick Transmigration Department, he was used to these systems.

They were all just workers—might as well cut each other some slack.

*"You mentioned Lady Zhaoyang earlier?"* He cut to the chase.

*"Yes, I just unlocked the Sixth Prince’s backstory."*

Outside, the palanquin sent by the Empress Dowager was already waiting at the gate. With Qing Xi’s support, he boarded it and rocked along the way to Cien Palace.

The hall he currently resided in was extremely far from Cien Palace. Heavy snow fell outside, with only palace attendants sweeping the paths. The palace was vast but desolate—the whole place felt like the Cold Palace. As they traveled, Xiao Ai filled him in on the Sixth Prince’s origins.

The late Emperor Wuzong was notorious for his lust, packing his three palaces and six courtyards with beauties. But in terms of favor, only a few stood out. In his middle and later years, Lady Zhaoyang of the Yang clan was the most beloved.

Lady Zhaoyang came from an official family, but her childhood was marked by misfortune. Her uncle had once served Crown Prince Mingyi, the elder brother of Emperor Wuzong. After the Crown Prince died in a riding accident, the then-Emperor Renzong, grief-stricken, ordered the execution of all his attendants. The Yang family was implicated, and Lady Zhaoyang was reduced to a servant in the Zhang household. At seventeen, the Zhang family sent her to serve Empress Dowager Zhang, who was then the empress. She started as a personal court lady in the empress’s palace.

It was said her beauty was bright as the sun, with a charm unmatched in the harem—especially her waist-length raven hair, so shiny it could double as a mirror.

With such a stunning woman serving as a court lady, no wonder the emperor zeroed in on her.

Yet Lady Zhaoyang repeatedly declined Emperor Wuzong’s advances.

Xiao Ai: *"Records say she refused Emperor Wuzong four times, angering him at one point. It wasn’t until her third year in the palace that she finally became his consort—and was instantly monopolized. Compared to Consort Li, who rose to favor in Emperor Wuzong’s later years and was bossy and full of herself, Lady Zhaoyang had a far better reputation. She got along well with Empress Zhang and the other palace ladies. Her father and brothers were promoted to high-ranking positions, turning the ruined Yang clan around into a prominent noble family in Jiantai City."* In short, Lady Zhaoyang was an extraordinarily beautiful and intelligent woman.

Unfortunately, fourteen years ago, the nomadic Hu invaders breached the capital, and the imperial family fled to the Lihua Palace, where they encountered a coup and a raging fire. The sixth prince disappeared in the chaos, and Lady Zhaoyang died not long after. The Yang family was a family of loyal martyrs—her father and brothers mostly perished in battle for the country, leaving only one brother, Yang Maozhi, who was later killed by Fu Huang.

"That doesn’t sound good."

Xiao Ai: "Why?"

"Too many tragic tropes."

Fu Ye recalled the shouts and prostrations he heard before entering the palace.

Born with stunning beauty, a family of loyal martyrs, and a tragic fate—such a prince would be fine beside a wise ruler, but with someone like Fu Huang, whose notorious reputation already makes him look bad, wouldn’t it just make the emperor seem even worse?

And his maternal uncle was killed by Fu Huang, which suggests Fu Huang didn’t have a good relationship with the sixth prince’s mother’s clan.

"Exactly. So, the impostor was displayed on the city walls just days after being acknowledged as kin—not necessarily just because he was an impostor."

"Huh?!"

Fu Ye stumbled and clutched the palanquin’s frame as one of the Inner Officials carrying it slipped. The officials set down the palanquin and knelt in panic: "Your Highness, have mercy!"

Qing Xi didn’t speak but merely raised a hand slightly. The four replacement Inner Officials relieved the four who’d slipped, but the latter remained kneeling and kowtowing: "Your Highness, have mercy!"

Seeing the black-armored guards on either side step forward, Fu Ye realized their intent and quickly said, "It’s fine. The roads are slippery in the snow—it’s understandable. Spare them this time."

Qing Xi looked at him, his refined eyes icy cold.

Fu Ye met his gaze: "My words."

Qing Xi waved his hand, and the guards retreated.

The four new Inner Officials now carrying the palanquin were clearly much more careful.

"People probably die often in this palace," Xiao Ai remarked.

"..." Fu Ye continued questioning Xiao Ai: "How long did it take for the fake prince to be discovered and beheaded?"

"Indeed," Xiao Ai said. "Within two weeks of being acknowledged as kin, he was exposed as an impostor, swiftly beheaded, and hung on the city walls for three years!"

What a horrifying city wall spectacle!

"Oh, wait—no, he was torn apart by horses first before being hung on the city walls. After all, impersonating imperial bloodline is an unforgivable crime."

"!!"

Fu Ye gripped the handrail. After passing Xuande Gate, he spotted a crowd in the distance.

The figure in the middle was unmistakable—tall, gaunt, clad in black, like a blade, a lance, a specter... In short, not quite human.

It was the emperor who had the impostor prince torn apart by horses.

But from this distance, he decided to feign ignorance.

"Hurry, don’t keep the Empress Dowager waiting," he urged.

Since winter began, the capricious emperor had canceled morning court sessions.

He only summoned Chancellor Xie and a few senior ministers to the palace every three days.

Today, the emperor was in a foul mood, having suffered a headache all night. He called for the imperial physician early in the morning, and now his brow was shadowed with the agitation of sleeplessness. Finding the palace oppressive, he stepped out for a stroll, wearing only light everyday robes.

Because of his condition, perhaps he didn't feel the cold, but Chancellor Xie and the other elderly officials suffered miserably, shivering from the chill and gasping for breath from exhaustion.

Yet at this moment, the emperor acknowledged no bonds of kinship—not even Eunuch Qin, his trusted eunuch, knew better than to speak unnecessarily or attempt to show concern, such as suggesting, "It's freezing outside, Your Majesty, would you like to step into the warm pavilion?" or "Are you thirsty or hungry, Your Majesty?"

Don't offer any advice. Just follow quietly.

By now, not only him but also the attendants behind him had learned this rule.

Wait—these were mute slaves.

The emperor was volatile-tempered and preferred silence.

They knew it, and so did the ministers.

Chancellor Xie, over seventy years old and having served under three emperors, had seen his share of rulers. Even the late emperor, known for his impulsive and violent nature, could still be reasoned with when his words or actions went too far.

But now, he dared not.

While loyal ministers and famed generals who were punished or executed for remonstrating would earn their place in history, emperors typically avoided indiscriminate slaughter to preserve their legacy, which was why officials dared to risk their lives to advise. But this emperor was different—he truly killed.

When the first and second waves were executed, people weren’t afraid. By the third wave, as nearly all fifth-rank officials in the court had been replaced, the rest finally grew fearful.

The current emperor was skilled at playing mind games. During the succession dispute, Chancellor Xie had not supported him—this alone gave the emperor leverage over him.

As a seasoned and shrewd minister, Chancellor Xie knew that now was not the time for confrontation. Different emperors required different approaches. Unable to be an upright and outspoken official, he had to find another path.

Obey without question, work diligently, and become a hawk with clipped talons.

Standing behind Fu Huang, he watched as the emperor observed a group of attendants escorting Fu Ye toward the Palace of Compassionate Grace. In the heavy snow, the world was blanketed in white. Fu Ye, wrapped in a red cloak woven with gold and adorned with jade—a strikingly vivid red—leaned back in the palanquin as it swayed away, radiating opulent beauty.

The emperor maintained his weary, irritable expression, making it impossible to discern his attitude toward this returned sixth prince.

The emperor was not truly insane. He had accepted the sixth prince for many reasons—perhaps lingering sentiment, or perhaps because his throne was secure enough that he no longer feared having a brother. Or perhaps he simply wanted to play a grander game in the turbulent court.

But this sixth prince was undeniably beautiful.

Such delicate beauty had not been seen in the palace for years. No man traveled by palanquin within the palace, even in winter—hardly princely, he seemed more like... the emperor’s newly favored consort.