Chapter 32 “How Many People Want to Climb into His Bed”

Chapter 32: "How Many People Want to Climb into His Bed"

The words "Crown Prince's residence" nearly stopped my breath, and instinctively, my fingertips curled.

To me now, Xie Yan is a more terrifying existence than any flood or beast.

Open malice at least puts one on guard, but Xie Yan is more like a venomous snake, lurking in the shadows, exuding chilling malevolence. He encircles your very flesh and bones as his own, a beast in human skin, exceptionally skilled in disguise and deceit, stopping at nothing to achieve his aims. When you unknowingly fall into his trap, he merely reels you in methodically, letting you suffocate peacefully in a beautiful dream, willingly offering your fresh, tender flesh for him to devour.

At this thought, my chest burned not only with surging hatred but also with a suffocating terror. I felt like a seabird with broken wings, on the verge of being brutally hunted.

Fortunately, it wasn’t Xie Yan himself who arrived, but rather the Crown Prince's personal guards. They were merely carrying out their duties, informing us of the specific time for the journey to the capital.

Father Chou politely entertained them and desperately tried to slip them bribes, hoping his son would receive better treatment in the capital.

The guard, however, wouldn't have any of it. He placed the silver back on the table and said sternly, "The Crown Prince has his own criteria for selecting attendants. We are only responsible for ensuring the safe passage of all young masters to the capital. Their food, lodging, and travel will be treated equally—no special treatment, but no neglect either."

"Yes, yes, of course," Father Chou said, somewhat embarrassed but still forcing a smile. "I’m just worried sick, that’s all. Please don’t take it to heart, sir."

"No matter, no need to worry," the guard replied. Though straightforward, he was not difficult to deal with. He carefully instructed, "You depart tomorrow, so make preparations early. The procession will arrive at your door at noon sharp. Do not delay."

"Very well, very well," Father Chou said, his face tinged with reluctance but still smiling. "Take care, sir. I won’t keep you."

After the guard left, I emerged from behind the screen, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

During my previous time as an attendant in the Crown Prince’s Mansion, Xie Yan never required my presence when he was busy. I spent my days wandering idly around the mansion, occasionally encountering some of his guards. Most of them had seen me before, so I didn’t dare appear rashly, afraid of causing unnecessary trouble.

"Sigh, I thought I could keep you here longer. Who knew you’d have to leave at noon tomorrow? It seems you regained consciousness just in time."

"If you were still unconscious, I doubt they would have forced you to go. Ah," Father Chou sighed deeply, his voice filled with reluctance. "Perhaps this is fate’s arrangement."

"Father, there’s no need to worry so much," I said, now more comfortable calling him "father." I couldn’t bear to see Father Chou so sorrowful and could only comfort him, "If I’m not selected, I’ll return soon enough."

As soon as I finished speaking, Father Chou stared at me intently, his tone certain and somber. "With looks like yours and mastery in all four arts—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—how could you not be selected?"

He sighed again, his words brimming with endless worry for the future. "The Crown Prince is a coveted position—everyone wants him, everyone wants to claim him, everyone wants to curry his favor."

"You, with your innocent nature—Father is afraid you won’t be able to handle the scheming and deception in the capital and will be taken advantage of or bullied by others."

I didn’t understand the complexities and only tilted my head slightly to ask, "Isn’t this just about selecting an attendant? What does it have to do with scheming and deception?"

Seeing my naivety, Father Chou frowned even more deeply and patiently explained to me.

"The reason I didn’t want you to go isn’t just because the Crown Prince has already given his heart to someone—a dead person, no less—and has driven himself half-mad over it. It’s also because the Crown Prince holds extremely high prestige in the court and commands military power. He’s already in his twenties, yet his consort position remains vacant. All these years, he hasn’t even taken a single concubine."

"Aside from his entanglement with that calamity from Feng Jiuyue’s family who died, there haven’t been any romantic rumors about him all these years. Such purity and deep affection—how many people must see him as their ideal romantic partner?"

"Guess how many people want to climb into his bed, and how many want their children to become the Crown Princess."

"The position of Crown Princess is now the focus of the entire nation. The Crown Prince’s selection of attendants is by the Emperor’s order, indicating he himself has no such intention, nor any intention to select a consort. But it’s hard to prevent influential families from harboring hopes, thinking that being close might give them an advantage, and desperately pushing their sons into the Crown Prince’s residence."

"You, with your looks, talent, and temperament—all outstanding—are bound to attract jealousy. I just tried to bribe that guard, hoping he’d watch out for you in the future, but it didn’t work. Tell me, how can I not worry? If something happens to you on the way to the capital, what will your father and mother do? We only have you."

Father Chou’s words were all reasonable, filled with concern, and I couldn’t help but be moved.

When my own father was alive, he treated me the same way—doted on me unconditionally, caring for me in every detail, and patiently tolerated me.

Though my birth father is no longer here, Father Chou's care warms my heart.

I held back the sting in my nostrils and assured him, "Perhaps things aren’t as serious as you think, Father. The protruding nail gets hammered down—being too conspicuous isn’t necessarily good. Yun Qing won’t expose himself to danger. Please don’t worry."

"Ah, once a son grows up, he’s not meant to stay," Father Chou sighed, gently patting my head. "Qingqing, it’s Father who is useless—merely a Prefect of Yuanzhou, unable to be a strong support behind you."

"Even so, Father will do everything to arrange for a comfortable and safe environment for you, at least for the journey to the capital, so you can rest well."

My throat tightened, and my eyes stung.

Parents everywhere probably all love their children like this—wanting to give them the best of everything, and when faced with helplessness, first blaming themselves.

My father was like this, and Chou Yunqing’s parents are like this too. Though they may not be the most powerful, wealthy, or capable, they give the best they have.

Thinking of this, the surging hatred within me mixed with sentimental reflection. No matter what plans I make in the future, I cannot drag Chou Yunqing’s parents into it.

Countless times before my death, I imagined reuniting with Xie Yan—I would plunge a dagger into his chest without hesitation, using his gushing blood to commemorate my father's spirit.

Now heaven has given me a chance to live again. I should seize every opportunity to kill Xie Yan, but now I’ve changed my mind.

This life was given to me by Chou Yunqing. If I recklessly assassinate Xie Yan, regardless of whether I succeed or fail, whether Xie Yan lives or dies, Father and Mother Chou, and even the entire Chou Mansion, will not escape blame.

I cannot let others bear the consequences of my mistakes. Moreover, the love and care from Father and Mother Chou envelop me like a clear spring, calming the unease of my rebirth and clearing my thoughts.

Even if Xie Yan must die, he must die deservedly, without implicating anyone from the Chou Mansion.

Xie Yan is so cunning and sinister—if I go to the capital and meet him, will he use me again?

Now, without my father as prime minister and no longer the son of the prime minister’s mansion, I have no value left to exploit. The absurdity of returning from death—he probably wouldn’t believe it.

No, on second thought, someone as cautious and vicious as Xie Yan would always want to eliminate all roots. He would fear me exposing his true nature in public, revealing the filth and ugliness beneath his cold exterior.

At this thought, my blood turned cold, and my skin trembled with fear. Until Xie Yan is dead, I must not let him discover I am Feng Jiuyue.

Unless my great vengeance is achieved, the identity of Feng Jiuyue will remain buried with my father’s death.

Now, I can only be Chou Yunqing, the beloved only son of the Prefect of Yuanzhou.

But Xie Yan is so shrewd—can I hide it from him?

My current appearance differs from Feng Jiuyue’s only by the absence of the crimson mole beneath my eye. Will Xie Yan still notice me? Will he? Will he remember me—the monster he used and who cowardly ended my own life?

Thinking of this, a mocking smile touched my lips.

I still remember our wedding night, when I mustered all the courage in my life to tell him about the nightmares that had plagued me for years. Instead of disgust, Xie Yan looked at me with eyes full of tenderness and affection, kissing me more passionately.

When I tremblingly showed him my deformed body, he was such an actor—his eyes clear as water, his face feigning not a trace of revulsion. He even leaned down to kiss my monstrous body.

I wept continuously, and he continuously kissed me. We seemed like lovers embracing with intense love, yearning to merge into each other’s flesh and blood.

It’s just a pity it was all a lie.

The next day, when I set off, Chou Yunqing’s parents stood at the door to see me off to the carriage. The procession set out grandly, a long line of luxurious carriages.

Though Father Chou is only a minor Prefect of Yuanzhou, my carriage was no less impressive.

The carriage was spacious enough to hold many people, carpeted thickly with silk rugs, with fragrant incense burning in the corners. A low table was laden with fruits and pastries. Huai Xin occasionally asked if my head still hurt and if I needed to call the traveling physician.

I shook my head to decline, and curiously lifted the carriage curtain.

Not only did each carriage radiate opulence, but even the servants accompanying outside were cultured, courteous, and well-dressed. From this, it was evident that their masters were also extraordinary. It seemed the competition for the position of study attendant was truly a fierce contest of talents, like a hundred flowers blooming.

I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. Xie Yan, are you selecting a study attendant or choosing a consort?

Where there is competition, casualties are inevitable.

Fortunately, on the journey to the capital, I kept my face veiled and maintained a low profile. Additionally, although the arrangements provided by Father Chou were the best he could offer, they were still somewhat modest compared to others. Thus, no one paid much attention to me, assuming I was merely there as a non-contender. The conflicts did not extend to me.

Yet I witnessed many quiet but cutthroat conflicts.

I could only murmur to myself—Xie Yan’s charm indeed remained undiminished. Just the name "Xie Yan" was enough to make people flock to him.

By keeping a low profile, I managed to arrive safely in the capital.

Everything in the capital was much the same as in my previous life. The bun shop on East Street was as bustling as ever, Tianxiang Restaurant still had a constant flow of patrons, and people continued with their lives as usual.

Forgetting is an easy thing. People carried on with their lives in an orderly manner, as if the capital had never had a Prime Minister named Feng or a person called Feng Jiuyue. All traces of our existence had been erased by time’s passage.

After entering the capital, the procession put up at an inn for the night before proceeding to the Crown Prince’s residence the next day.

My thoughts lingered on my father’s memorial tomb, so I set out from the inn late at night. Huai Xin wanted to accompany me, but I refused. The Prime Minister’s residence had been sealed off for years, and what I intended to do might violate the law. It was not suitable for him to come with me.

My father lived a humble life; even the location of the Prime Minister’s residence was extremely remote and seldom visited.

Though he was a Prime Minister, he had a humbler life than a magistrate. Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but sigh.

This estate was where I had lived for nineteen years, holding countless precious memories of my father and me. Now, it stood desolate and neglected. The vermilion paint on the walls was peeling, and even the stone lions flanking the entrance were damaged. Only the government seal at the door still screamed of past humiliation.

I dared not use the main entrance or even linger too long there, fearing to arouse suspicion. The back door was more concealed, so I quietly scaled the wall to enter.

Inside, everything remained largely unchanged, far from the decay and desolation I had imagined. It was unnervingly neat and clean, without even a trace of cobwebs. I had no time to ponder these oddities, focused only on quickly reaching my father’s room to find his personal belongings.

I wanted to build a memorial tomb for him.

Everything in my father’s room was untouched. Moonlight fell on the desk, and the pages of the books rustled softly in the breeze.

I remembered my father sitting just like this, reading. Not only was he handsome, but his posture while reading was also impeccable—his back straight, like sturdy pine or bamboo. Compared to my laziness and decadence, my father was truly a model for our generation.

I opened the wardrobe, embraced a black robe he often wore, as if drawing endless warmth from it.

It felt like just yesterday that I last saw my father. He wore a dark blue court robe on his way to morning court. He didn’t look back at me, only raised his right hand to wave. I had thought there would be countless such days ahead, but he left me forever.

Now I finally understand the saying: "The tree longs for stillness, but the wind never ceases; the son may wish to care for his parents, but they await not."

In the past, I was immature, cowardly, and troublesome, often worrying my father endlessly. Now that he is gone, I feel as though I have suddenly lost my moorings.

I once believed that parents were both our origin and our destination—the haven for wanderers, the meticulously sewn stitches before a journey, the heartwarming sip of winter broth.

Now, I have lost it all.

My throat constricted, and my chest ached so much I could barely breathe. The pain was unbearable. I longed to join my father and tell him how much I missed him.

But I couldn’t. Xie Yan was still alive. I couldn’t die before him. Silently, I shed tears in the moonlight, eventually taking only my father’s scent pouch and hiding it in my sleeve before slowly leaving the room.

In the midst of the dark, silent night, faint, scattered footsteps approached from afar. My heart leaped to my throat, and suspicion flared immediately.

Who could be here at this hour? Could it be a thief?

I tilted my head to listen in the darkness and realized the footsteps were coming from my room. The person did not try to soften their tread, clearly not a thief. Then who was it?

At that moment, the moon was shrouded by thick clouds. Without any light, it was utter darkness, and I couldn’t make out the person’s face, only a faint, blurry silhouette.

The person was extremely tall—my head barely reached his chest—but very thin, dressed in pale, austere robes, emanating an air of melancholy. If a wind blew then, it might have carried him away, I thought.

The person did not avoid me, as if this were not my home but his. In the deep darkness, he seemed unaware of my presence, walking unsteadily while drinking. He was deeply intoxicated, his steps faltering.

I squinted hard to see him clearly, but in the darkness, with my ordinary vision, it was impossible. As I prepared to leave, a sudden gust of wind blew, and the clouds parted from the moon. Finally, I saw him clearly.

He had finely arched eyebrows, pale irises, a handsome nose, and defined, thin lips. It was Xie Yan.