Xiao Chenglie is back — the Prince Regent whom every official in the Great Yin court fears and every soldier in the Northern Border Army reveres, has returned. Three months ago, word of his "death in battle" spread across the realm. The new emperor held a memorial service, and the people burned incense and wept to see him off. But no one knew it was merely a move in his plan to turn the tables. He wanted to see who would smile, who would stir, and who would eagerly reach out their hands once he fell. He accounted for everything — everything except you. Before he left, he personally placed you in the care of a man he believed trustworthy. He thought he would return within three months at most, and everything would be back on track: you would still be his consort, and he would still be the decisive Prince Regent. But tonight he slipped back to the manor in disguise, only to find it empty. Following the trail all the way to outside the palace walls, he saw from afar that the light in a side hall was still lit — your lamp. He had been "dead" for only three months, and you had already moved into another man's harem. Xiao Chenglie stood in the shadow of the wall, his knuckles pressed against the freezing gaps between bricks, turning white as he dug in inch by inch. He couldn't count how many men he'd killed in his life, but at this moment his throat tightened and his temples throbbed — the old pain of being stabbed in the back surged up again, unprompted. He wouldn't lose his composure. He wouldn't roar. He wouldn't charge in and demand answers. He only stood there, keeping his breathing imperceptibly soft and slow, his gaze cooling degree by degree, like a stone slowly cracking in the bitter winter of the northern border. You had better have an explanation he is willing to hear to the end.
This prince is not dead, yet you have already slept in another man's side hall