“What did you dream about?”
The Third Prince pointed lightly at Mu Xueshi’s head, his tone carrying a trace of amused curiosity.
Mu Xueshi froze for a moment. Then he scratched his head and forced out an awkward smile.
“I dreamed about… a lot of zombies. Tons of them. They all had their tongues hanging out, hopping toward me one by one. They said I was a little ghost that had escaped from hell and shouldn’t be wandering around in the world of the living… so they wanted to drag me back.”
“And what about you?” The Third Prince raised an eyebrow. “Did you fight them?”
Mu Xueshi let out two weak laughs.
“Of course. I told them I was a heavenly general sent from the Celestial Army. After that, none of them dared touch me.”
A long silence followed.
Only then did Mu Xueshi notice that the Third Prince had shown no reaction whatsoever. He lifted his head—and met a pair of icy, penetrating eyes.
“Did I not tell you,” the Third Prince said slowly, “what punishment awaits those who deceive me?”
Mu Xueshi hurriedly stepped back. His large round eyes darted about as his head shook vigorously like a rattle drum.
“I don’t remember! Those little ghosts scared my memory away. I forgot everything!”
Before he even finished speaking, the Third Prince caught hold of Mu Xueshi’s slender ankle and began pulling him back with deliberate slowness. His gaze grew increasingly dangerous.
“I said before—what I hate most is being deceived.”
By the time Mu Xueshi heard those words, he had already been dragged back within reach. In his panic, he immediately pressed his face against the Third Prince’s chest—an old trick that had always worked to soften the prince’s temper.
After a while, Mu Xueshi felt the breathing above his head gradually grow calmer and steadier. He let out a quiet sigh of relief—yet the whole situation felt strangely unreal.
“Say…” he muttered after a pause. “If… someday I lose my memory again, what would you do?”
As he spoke, he deliberately burrowed his head deeper into the prince’s chest, hiding the unease on his face.
“Hm?” The Third Prince frowned slightly, suspicion flickering across his handsome features.
Mu Xueshi had already opened his mouth, so he forced himself to continue.
“I mean… what if one day I suddenly regained my old memories, but forgot everything that happened recently… what would you—”
“I would force you to remember every single thing,” the Third Prince replied without hesitation.
“No!” Mu Xueshi abruptly lifted his head, his expression carrying a hint of stubborn defiance.
The Third Prince looked displeased.
“And why not?”
“That belongs to… me…” Mu Xueshi muttered vaguely.
Then he closed his eyes and fell silent.
At that moment, Qingya entered carrying a bowl of pitch-black medicinal soup.
Mu Xueshi’s nerves, which had just relaxed, instantly tightened again. He leapt out of the Third Prince’s arms and dashed toward the bed, intending to dive beneath the covers and pretend to be dead.
Unfortunately, the Third Prince had already anticipated the trick.
Two large hands seized him effortlessly and pulled him back onto the prince’s lap.
“The medicine must be taken.”
“I’m not sick,” Mu Xueshi protested, staring at the foul-smelling brew with utter horror. “I was just frightened.”
The Third Prince did not waste words.
Seeing Mu Xueshi refuse, he simply restrained him in his arms. One leg pinned Mu Xueshi’s lower body in place. One hand pried open his mouth while the other forced the bitter medicine down his throat.
The rough treatment made Mu Xueshi glare in furious indignation, yet the prince acted as though he saw nothing at all. Only after the entire bowl had been swallowed did he release him.
“That was torture…” Mu Xueshi gasped, sticking out his tongue in a desperate attempt to air out the horrible taste.
The exaggeratedly cute gesture made something stir in the Third Prince’s heart. Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed that outstretched tongue.
“Mmph… you’ve got to be kidding…”
Mu Xueshi felt a pair of large hands roaming over his body, caressing him. Before long they slipped beneath his inner garments, fingers sliding lightly around the most sensitive place.
“But… didn’t we just—” Mu Xueshi tried to protest with the air of a righteous gentleman, even as he made no move to push the prince’s hand away.
In the end, he was the one who seemed even more eager. His entire body clung to the Third Prince, his small hands wandering everywhere in disarray until he was breathless.
Meanwhile, the Third Prince remained as composed as ever.
When the storm finally passed, Mu Xueshi had once again been thoroughly devoured.
Pleasure was fleeting.
The discomfort that followed often struck far more fiercely than the brief moment of ecstasy.
Though Mu Xueshi shoved him away repeatedly, the Third Prince still cleaned him carefully. Yet the soreness remained.
Later, the two lay together on the bed, their bodies carrying the lingering scent of incense.
Mu Xueshi had already closed his eyes, intending to sleep, when he felt an intense gaze from beside him.
Opening his eyes, he found the Third Prince quietly watching him. The usual coldness in his eyes had faded, replaced by something gentler—something almost tender.
“Does it still hurt?” the Third Prince asked softly.
Mu Xueshi knew exactly what he meant. He had intended to snap back with a curse, but the seriousness in the prince’s expression made him swallow the words.
“It hurts… normally,” he replied with a careless shrug. “Not enough to kill anyone.”
It was a sideways complaint.
The Third Prince smiled knowingly and ruffled his hair.
“Then next time we won’t do it.”
“Wait—no!” Mu Xueshi blurted out immediately.
Only when he saw the teasing look in the prince’s smile did he realize he had revealed himself again.
“Well… what I meant was,” he said hurriedly, “I’m a broad-minded and resilient person. How could I fuss over a little pain? So in the future, do whatever you like… I wouldn’t want people saying that I, Mu Xueshi, mistreat the Third Prince whom thousands admire… heh…”
After finishing, he proudly pulled the blanket over himself and turned away so the prince could not see his flustered expression.
After a long while, when nothing happened behind him, Mu Xueshi cautiously lowered the blanket.
At that moment the Third Prince’s arm wrapped around his waist, but he made no further move.
Mu Xueshi felt the prince’s breath drawing closer. The familiar warmth quickly lulled him toward sleep.
Half-dreaming, he suddenly remembered something.
“Don’t forget,” he murmured, turning his head slightly, “you promised that after the Eight Homage Festival you’d take me out somewhere to have fun.”
Before he could hear the answer, he had already drifted into sleep.
In the middle of the night, the Third Prince felt movement beside him.
Opening his eyes, he saw Mu Xueshi unconsciously scratching at his own face, his brows tightly furrowed.
The prince’s heart tightened instantly.
He hurriedly rose from the bed to find medicine that might ease the discomfort. Yet the moment he stepped away, Mu Xueshi became visibly restless, groping blindly at the blanket where the prince had been, as though searching for something.
The sight tugged painfully at the Third Prince’s heart.
He lay back down again.
The instant Mu Xueshi touched him, the furrow between his brows smoothed away.
Carefully, the Third Prince peeled back the thin membrane covering Mu Xueshi’s face.
The sight beneath it was unbearable.
Scars covered the skin. Pus and blood marred the surface. It looked as though countless insects had gnawed at his flesh.
Remembering the once breathtaking face that had stolen the breath of all who saw it, the Third Prince could not help but feel a deep ache in his heart.
Mu Xueshi slept soundly that night—better than he had in a long time.
When he first woke, he worried that he might still be in the Cold Palace. But the sight of the delicate silk canopy above quickly reassured him.
The Third Prince was nowhere to be found.
Mu Xueshi searched both the inner chamber and the side rooms before finally going outside to ask Eunuch Tai’an.
“The Third Prince has urgent matters to attend to,” the eunuch replied.
With nothing else to do, Mu Xueshi began pacing the courtyard.
Only then did he realize he had not seen Su Ruhan since leaving the interrogation chamber.
Thinking of how Su Ruhan had taken care of him for the past three days, Mu Xueshi suddenly felt guilty.
How ungrateful I’ve been, he thought. The moment I saw the Third Prince, I forgot everyone else.
“Young Master Mu, where are you going?” Eunuch Tai’an hurriedly grabbed his sleeve.
“I’m going to find my master and practice martial arts,” Mu Xueshi replied without turning back.
The eunuch immediately grew anxious.
“The Third Prince specifically instructed that you must not leave this area today. You are to remain near the sleeping chamber.”
“It’s fine,” Mu Xueshi said breezily. “I’m not leaving the courtyard. Besides, I trust you all. With so many expert guards here, what danger could there be?”
He patted the eunuch’s shoulder reassuringly.
The next moment, however, his own guards—Lu Fei and Lu Fan—grabbed his arms and dragged him straight back inside.
“How dare you betray me! I’m your master!” Mu Xueshi glared fiercely, trying to imitate the Third Prince’s intimidating demeanor.
The effect, unfortunately, was more amusing than frightening.
“Reporting to Young Master,” one guard replied calmly, “in daily matters we follow your orders. But when the Third Prince gives special instructions, we must obey him.”
Mu Xueshi slumped into a chair in defeat and waved them away.
So the prince really doesn’t want me getting close to Su Ruhan, he thought. Remembering the jealous words the Third Prince had spoken earlier, his suspicion seemed confirmed.
Turns out he’s that petty.
Yet somehow the thought made Mu Xueshi’s mood improve instantly.
But after entertaining himself for a while, he began to feel something strange.
Even sitting still, his body felt light and weak. His legs trembled when he walked. His head felt heavy and dizzy.
Though the symptoms were not as intense as the night before, the abnormal sensation soon became unmistakable.
Is this karma catching up with me? Mu Xueshi wondered uneasily.
If he simply returned to his former state, he could accept it.
At least there would still be hope.
But if his soul were to scatter and vanish entirely…
Then everything he cared about would cease to have anything to do with him.
The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became.
Wangyun Peak
The Third Prince rode swiftly from the palace toward Wangyun Peak. The journey was long, but when he arrived, someone was already waiting there.
Hao Lin gazed at him with open admiration.
Though he had secretly sent people to track the Third Prince for years, it had been a long time since he had observed him so closely.
The young prince had long since shed all traces of boyishness. His features had sharpened, his eyes gleaming with keen intelligence and cold authority.
His thin lips remained pressed together in their usual indifferent line.
At some point a small pavilion had been built atop Wangyun Peak.
Hao Lin sat leisurely at a stone table within it, sipping chilled tea.
Beside him stood Shangchuan Hong, silent and expressionless from beginning to end.
“Do you have nothing to say to me?” Hao Lin asked with a faint, meaningful smile.
The Third Prince shot him a cold glance.
“What I wish to say,” he replied icily, “the Emperor of Lubei surely already knows.”
“Why not play a game of chess with me?” Hao Lin gestured to the board before him.
The Third Prince did not even look at it.
His gaze remained fixed on Hao Lin’s smiling face.
“Antidote,” he said flatly.
Hao Lin seemed disappointed.
“This chess puzzle,” he said slowly, “is one I once lost to Prince Dingnan. I’ve always believed I should not have lost… yet I cannot find the move that would turn defeat into victory.”
He looked up.
“If you can solve it, the antidote will be yours.”
The Third Prince finally glanced at the board.
At first glance it seemed a dead game.
But upon closer inspection, there was still a faint path to survival.
After a moment’s thought, the Third Prince picked up a chess piece and placed it in a seemingly chaotic position—one that concealed a subtle strategy.
Hao Lin’s face immediately lit with approval.
“I have always admired the Third Prince of Yunxi,” he said, rising and stepping closer.
Before he could approach further, the Third Prince’s sword was already pressed against his chest.
The disdain in his expression was unmistakable.
Hao Lin ignored the hostility.
Even with the blade against his heart, he spoke calmly.
“Most people who see this puzzle focus only on how to escape defeat. But Your Highness instead seeks life through destruction.”
“Ordinary players, upon seeing your move, would relax in confidence—believing victory assured. Yet at the final moment they discover that a single misjudgment has turned them into the loser.”
The Third Prince snorted softly, clearly uninterested.
Hao Lin continued with a faint smile.
“But there are also those who hold a different belief from the start…”
“That the Third Prince is no ordinary man—and that every move he makes must be examined with the utmost care.”
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