Chapter 12 Prince Chen Lies on a Bed Soiled with Waste

Chapter 12: Prince Chen Lies on a Bed Soiled with Feces and Urine

Luo Sinian knew his guard’s character—he was no frivolous man. Unless something grave had occurred, the guard would never disturb him while he worked.

With that thought, Luo Sinian immediately set aside the letter in his hand and hurried over.

Before he even reached the front courtyard, a foul stench—of feces, urine, and stagnant filth—struck him full in the face. Luo Sinian’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

He assumed the servants of Prince Chen’s mansion had been negligent that day—failing to empty the chamber pots on time, allowing the odor to spread so far. It never crossed his mind that this reek could be emanating from the Ice Stone Bed.

It wasn’t until he entered the front courtyard and saw maids and servants covering their noses, their delicate faces twisted into grimaces like steamed buns, that Luo Sinian realized something was terribly wrong.

His own servants knew better than to behave this way. What on earth were they staring at?

Luo Sinian quickened his pace.

When he caught sight of the stone bed in the courtyard, he froze—his tall frame rigid as if struck by lightning. His expression hardened; a faint tremor twitched across his cheek.

Nothing could compare to the shock of seeing it with his own eyes.

The broad stone bed stood at the courtyard’s center, smeared everywhere with dried yellow stains of excrement and dark red splatters of blood. Its center was especially filthy—darker than the rest—and bore a complete, human-shaped imprint pressed deep into the stone, as though carved there. Not a single spot remained clean.

This was no bed—it was unmistakably a latrine.

Not even beggars from the ruined temples beyond the city walls would be caught dead lying upon it.

Luo Sinian’s breathing grew heavy as he stared blankly ahead. He felt as if an invisible hand were crushing his heart; his fingers clenched tightly inside his sleeves until his knuckles turned white.

He vividly recalled how, when Consort Li first presented this Ice Stone Bed to Prince Ye’s mansion, the stone had gleamed with pristine, snow-white purity.

How, in less than three years, had the stone used to craft it become stained such a deep, ominous red?

Had Prince Ye’s servants never cleaned it for his third brother?

Luo Sinian’s lips pressed into a thin, taut line. Sorrow clouded his expression; turmoil churned within his chest.

Though Luo Junhe was only his half-brother, their bond surpassed that of full-blooded royal siblings.

Aside from his own mother, Luo Junhe was the person in this world who treated him best.

Luo Sinian had always believed that his frequent visits to Prince Ye’s mansion—and how familiar its servants were with him—meant they would certainly never mistreat Luo Junhe.

Yet he had never imagined his third brother slept on such a filthy bed every single day.

Luo Sinian felt suffocated. He scarcely dared to consider further—what, then, had Luo Junhe been eating daily in Prince Ye’s mansion?

Was he starving each day—or worse, had no one even brought him food?

At that thought, Luo Sinian’s eyes darkened. Slowly, he lifted his gaze—and, without conscious intent, his legs carried him toward the Ice Stone Bed.

Su Mu guessed his intention. Shocked, he stepped forward instantly to stop him. “Your Highness, you must not!”

But Luo Sinian brushed Su Mu aside. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed; his voice emerged hoarse and strained.

“If my third brother—frail, broken, and barely clinging to life—could sleep upon it, why can’t I?”

He recalled Ji Yuntang’s earlier words—and finally understood why her reaction had been so visceral upon seeing this bed.

It was tragic that, for so long, Luo Sinian had never once stepped into Luo Junhe’s room.

Whenever he wished to visit, Nanny Xu would always intercept him—saying the prince had taken his medicine and fallen asleep, or was bathing in ice water to suppress the fire poison, or was undressed and unfit for visitors…

Excuse after excuse.

Luo Sinian had never doubted them. He knew better than anyone that Nanny Xu had once saved Luo Junhe’s life—and how deeply Luo Junhe cherished her.

In Prince Ye’s mansion, Luo Junhe had never treated her or her daughter poorly.

Every reward he received from battle, he shared generously with Nanny Xu.

Yet he never imagined that this very trust and affection had enabled such unjust, cruel abuse.

Luo Sinian remembered how, each time he saw Luo Junhe, it was when he was carried out to sunbathe. A wooden lounge chair would be placed in the courtyard—one lying, the other sitting—chatting and laughing merrily.

Fearing Luo Junhe would grow bored from lying too long, Luo Sinian would keep him company, recounting all the interesting happenings—great and small—in the capital.

Yet Luo Junhe had never once complained to him about Nanny Xu—or the servants.

His emotions grew increasingly complex. Disregarding the filth entirely, Luo Sinian removed his boots and lay down directly upon the Ice Stone Bed—soiled with feces and urine.

The instant his body touched the stone, Luo Sinian shuddered violently from the cold—unable to suppress a sharp, involuntary gasp.

As a martial artist, he possessed Internal Energy shielding his body—yet still he felt a bone-deep chill, as surging cold air rushed into his body, vying for entry.

Before even lying there for the duration of a single incense stick’s burn, Luo Sinian was already unbearably cold.

His lips paled. He sat up abruptly from the Ice Stone Bed and ground out through clenched teeth, “Su Mu—prepare hot water. This prince must bathe—and then enter the palace.”

This Ice Stone Bed had been personally prepared for Luo Junhe by Consort Li. He had to go to the palace and demand answers—clearly, unequivocally: What exactly was happening?

*

Prince Ye’s Mansion

To better care for Luo Junhe, Ji Yuntang had moved herself into the side room adjacent to the West Courtyard—the two rooms sharing a common wall.

In her spare moments, she began using medicinal herbs from her spatial realm to detoxify the accumulated poison on her face.

Previously too occupied to examine herself closely, Ji Yuntang now gazed into the mirror and realized—the original host’s face was identical to her appearance in her previous life.

In other words, this face was hers—ten years younger.

In her past life, after earning dual doctoral degrees and returning from overseas studies to serve her country, Ji Yuntang had unhesitatingly abandoned a million-yuan annual salary to join the military as an army physician.

Her features were striking and radiant—her eyes dazzling and fox-like, her skin porcelain-pale, her lips naturally crimson without adornment—beautiful to the point of being intimidating. Yet she seldom smiled; her demeanor remained cool and aloof, effortlessly creating distance.

Ji Yuntang had always believed being an army physician was a sacred calling. Others called her the “Ice Beauty of the Military”—unapproachable, untouchable.

Thus, she held no doubt: once healed, this face would be breathtaking.

Following precise herbal ratios, Ji Yuntang quickly prepared a detoxifying facial mask. Donning disposable gloves, she applied it evenly to her face—then reclined on a soft chair in the courtyard to sunbathe.

After returning from Prince Chen’s mansion, Chen Hu burst excitedly into the West Courtyard. Searching everywhere but failing to find Ji Yuntang, he instead spotted a woman with a pitch-black face sitting beneath a tree in the corner—startling him so badly he froze on the spot.

“Who are you? Why are you in Princess Ye’s courtyard? Where is Princess Ye?”

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