On Zhan's side, he had already showered and changed. Hunger pushed him out of his room in search of food...he could no longer sit still. At that hour, the living room was empty, filled only with a soft fragrance and the cool sweep of air-conditioning that chilled the skin. It surprised him; normally during stormy weather the system was only used when necessary. He pressed his lips together and headed toward the dining room, separated from the living space by a glass divider....everything in the palace was meticulously secured.
Zhan reached for the flask to make tea, but the moment his hand touched the metal, a sharp stabbing pain shot through his head. He snatched his hand back instantly and stared intensely at the flask. He tried a second time....again the pain hit, sharper, pounding through his skull like a blow.
He pulled away again, breath unsteady, sinking into a chair, eyes fixed on the flask. For three long minutes he sat motionless, watching it, before trying once more. This time, even with the burning pain searing through him, he kept his hand there for several seconds.
His eyes darkened rapidly, his expression shifting into something fierce and unfamiliar....almost unrecognizable from the calm Zhan of moments ago. Abruptly, he stood, grabbed the tray with the flask, and marched it to the kitchen.
He walked with slow, steady steps...controlled yet powerful, like a trained hawk surveying its territory. His poise and composed confidence erased any trace of his youth, especially when he carried that commanding air.
His sudden entrance into the kitchen threw the staff into a panic. They bowed low, knees to the floor, but Zhan only raised a hand in acknowledgement. His burning gaze fell on three labeled boxes of premium tea leaves...one of which the staff was unpacking.
"What is this?" he asked coldly.
"It's the King's tea," they replied quickly.
"Where is it from?"
"Delivered regularly from the supplier."
"I want to see him. Within the next two hours," Zhan ordered. He prepared a fresh tea blend himself, refusing any help, and left the kitchen without another word.
Just then, King Yibo entered....dressed simply in casual home clothes, clearly not planning to leave the residence. His face remained harsh, stiff with tension, without the faintest sign of a smile. Quietly, Zhan placed the tea on the dining table, sitting down opposite him as Yibo reached for the jug of milk.
Zhan stared at the milk too, a sharp, assessing gaze. Then, softly but firmly, he spoke:
"That milk is dangerous for anyone who drinks it. Leaving it untouched is the wiser choice, Your Majesty."
Yibo acted as though he hadn't heard. Slowly, he turned his head toward Zhan. Zhan's expression softened into something pleading, his voice tightening as he added,
"Please, don't drink it. There is a serious issue with it."
(Who is this boy really?) Yibo wondered, narrowing his eyes sharply at Zhan.
Gently, Zhan placed his hand on Yibo's, taking the milk jug away and setting it aside. He poured the tea and placed the cup in front of him.
"You'll enjoy this far more than the milk," he said quietly.
Still Yibo said nothing, nor did he reach for the cup. He simply stood, chest lifted with cold authority, and began to walk away. Zhan watched him from the corner of his eye, anger simmering beneath his controlled expression....but he would never show it openly in front of the King. His head bowed, lips pressed tightly, eyes squeezed shut to restrain himself.
Then Yibo paused.
He stepped back, turned around, and fixed Zhan with a long look. For the first time, he allowed a faint, sharp smile....a rare sight, and a difficult one to witness without faltering. Slowly he sat down again, picked up the tea, and drank.
It tasted amazing, but nothing in his face revealed it.
Zhan turned his gaze away completely, refusing to look at him. Before he realized it, Yibo had already finished and swept Zhan off the chair in one swift motion, carrying him straight to the bedroom.
He dropped him on the bed.
(No details today, I can see eyes all ready to read some smug. 😏)
------
Within minutes, King Yibo's orders regarding the imprisonment of Prince Langya and Consort Xuan Ji spread across the palace. Whispers erupted everywhere, just as tradition encouraged. Everyone questioned what could have driven Consort Xuan Ji to Prince Langya's quarters, knowing there was no official connection between them...aside from her being the wife of his elder brother.
Surely there was something hidden beneath the surface. People speculated rumors freely...if not, why else would the pair meet in the dead of night, without attendants, without purpose? Why would it end with a violent attempt to kill her?
Something was very wrong—and King Yibo clearly had discovered it.
The rumors turned into confirmed truth when Jasrah finally regained consciousness. Crying uncontrollably, she told Dowager Ruyan, who was seated beside her along with Dowager Taihou, that she had long suspected Consort Xuan Ji. She explained that there was a night when she found Prince Langya's phone....he had forgotten it when rushing out to take an urgent call. When she checked the screen, she saw Xuan Ji's name calling him in the middle of the night. She answered, but Xuan Ji cut the call immediately....yet she had already heard her voice. When she dialed the number from her own phone, it did not connect. The next morning she ordered an investigation into the number, only to learn it was no longer active.
Since then, she had kept her suspicions silent and watched closely. There were no more calls....but sometimes she would catch the scent of a woman's perfume, the very same scent she smelled on Xuan Ji last night.
Jasrah broke down again, heart torn apart. Dowager Taihou could do nothing but seethe with rage....she cared for Jasrah deeply. And now, facing Consort Xuan Ji, who was technically her co-wife, old rivalry resurfaced. Although Dowager Taihou knew that her late husband had never loved Xuan Ji, and that Xuan Ji never held real power in the palace, the resentment remained....she believed one should never underestimate an enemy, no matter how insignificant they appear.
She was now certain that Prince Deng and Consort Xuan Ji were involved, and that everyone believed so after hearing Jasrah's testimony. The way King Yibo had handled the situation left the royal household deeply impressed; some even began speaking favorably of him, softening the resentment they once held. He himself was unaware of the praises....he was having fun with his baby husband. His silence meant he would not appear in public for the entire day.
Just as Zhan had instructed earlier, the message ordering a meeting with the tea supplier was delivered. At 4:30 PM, while Zhan was deep into studying a book, he received a call through the intercom system announcing the visitor's arrival. He did not want his reading interrupted, but meeting this person was too important. He closed the book gently, stood up, and straightened his clothes....it was time.
Earlier, Zhan had spent hours planning his approach carefully. He and Daneen had discussed it thoroughly. At first, Daneen struggled to understand Zhan's objective and remained silent, confused. But once Zhan explained everything in detail, step by step, she finally understood and threw her full support behind the plan, agreeing without hesitation.
The area where visitors were allowed in the King's wing was limited to the first living room. Anyone who crossed into the second room was already considered an extremely distinguished guest. The third living room.... beyond even that....was untouched territory. In the entire history of the palace, only Dowager Ruyan and Dowager Taihou had ever been allowed beyond it, and recently Daneen, only because of Zhan's intervention. King Yibo did not use the same residence where his father once lived; his father had ordered the construction of this private wing long before Yibo returned to Beiping.
No one knew the full structure or secrets of that wing except the King himself.
Zhan received respectful bows in every sitting room he crossed. Though he took the stairs and tired easily, he walked with steady purpose. Even the King's most trusted attendants....who by rule never descended into the second living room without direct cause.... walk with attention, trailing behind him like a Lion King guarding his cubs.
The elderly man, whose appearance clearly showed he was someone of high status....neatly dressed and composed....quickly stood up to show respect to the Royal Consort. Zhan took his seat, secretly observing the man from the corner of his eye without letting anyone notice.
The man bowed slightly in greeting, and Zhan raised a hand lightly, signaling him to sit.
"Thank you, Your Royal Highness,"
he said humbly as he sat down.
Zhan allowed a quiet pause to stretch for nearly two minutes before speaking, breathing out deeply.
"I requested to see you for two reasons. First, from today onward, no tea leaves should be delivered under His Majesty's name to this residence again. Second, there is a task I need you to carry out."
Visibly alarmed, the man glanced at Zhan before lowering his head again.
"Your Highness, forgive me...has something happened?"
"Nothing has happened. There is simply a change of system. Can you list the names of all ingredients used in preparing His Majesty's tea?"
"Certainly, Your Highness. What would you like to know?"
"Everything."
Zhan replied briefly.
The man quickly opened his bag and pulled out a large notebook. One of the attendants stepped forward to receive it and respectfully handed it to Zhan.
Zhan accepted it calmly, showing no sign of emotion as he began flipping through the book. The notebook contained concise details about each component and the method of blending the leaves.
Although the old man knew there was nothing harmful inside, he was still uneasy....Zhan's sharp gaze and intimidating presence made him feel as if the walls of the room were closing in. Besides, this was the first time he had been summoned like this; usually, he only visited to present a new tea blend in hopes of impressing the King.
After about five minutes of thoroughly reading, Zhan closed the book and looked up.
"Everything here is fine. However, from now on, we will only be using fresh leaves....grown and harvested inside the palace grounds."
"As you command, Your Highness," the man replied, his anxiety now completely visible.
Zhan stood up, expression unreadable.
"Prepare everything needed and deliver it to me. Once I finish my arrangements, I will call for you again."
"Thank you, Your Royal Highness."
He bowed deeply.
Zhan simply raised a hand in dismissal and walked away, leaving the attendants stunned and scrambling to follow him quickly.
(So this young man, hmm? 🥱😂)
:-*:-*:-*:-
From the moment Langya was brought into the cell next to Deng's...two confinement rooms positioned opposite each other....they stared directly at each other. Deng, however, didn't move from his rigid position in the corner where he sat, exhausted and withdrawn. The room was dim, illuminated only by a faint light filtering through, just enough for them to see each other's faces.
They remained like that for an hour before Deng slowly stood up, staggering slightly. He had not been eating the food he was given, and though his injuries had been treated, his body was still weak. He walked to the iron barrier separating their cells and leaned against it, then suddenly burst into a harsh, wild laugh....like someone who had lost control of his mind.
Langya's burning anger and bitterness were written across his face as he watched him, but he said nothing....letting Deng finish his outburst in silence.
"Oh! So you actually think this ends with Deng alone? You're more of a fool than I imagined," Deng said, laughing again, his voice dripping with mockery. "I swear, if your mother were alive today, realizing she had given birth to such a disgrace would be enough to end her. Honestly, are you even sure she carried you into this house legitimately?"
"DENG!!!!!!!"
Langya's voice exploded through the cell, shaking the metal strongly enough that it seemed it might break....yet being reinforced beneath the ground, it didn't budge. Deng stepped back, lifting both hands mockingly as if surrendering, then laughed harder, gripping the iron again.
"Oh, so you do understand exactly what I'm saying. Fine then...yes, she gave birth to you under this roof. But I still refuse to believe it, considering you're nothing but a treacherous snake, an ungrateful coward who hides behind women to save himself. How much did she pay for you, Langya?"
Langya's voice turned low and poisonous, shaking with rage.
"The same way they paid for your mother in a brothel. If you ever insult my mother again, I swear I will curse you so badly you will feel it in your bones. Fool, idiot...maybe it's you your mother dragged you here in her belly after some reckless mistake. Or have they not told you? Nobody here even knows your mother true origin."
Deng stepped closer to the bars, voice turning cold as ice.
"Don't forget I could kill you right here and bury your body in this cell. Let me remind you who Deng is. You think you can stand beside me? You're only worth watching from a distance, and even then, barely. You believe I don't know your secret plans? You've been supporting me... hoping that once we eliminate him, I will then be eliminated too. But you miscalculated."
He tapped the bars with one finger.
"Before you even see the monkey, the monkey sees you. Deng sleeps with one eye open. And you...are right here in the center of my palm. You'll understand that soon enough."
He ended with a twisted laugh, returning to his corner and sitting firmly, still laughing to himself.
Langya remained silent....motionless like a statue carved from stone, his eyes fixed on Deng. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts, or perhaps Deng's words were burning through his mind. He had never expected him to know about such ambitions, not even in his darkest imagination.
FIVE DAYS LATER
Five days had passed since Langya was placed in the underground cells, while Deng had already been there for a week. King Yibo had not spoken a single word regarding their case since then. In fact, today he announced he would temporarily withdraw from court matters.
He appointed Prince Aoying to handle all responsibilities, explaining that he was leaving for a honeymoon trip with his family.
This time, it was clear that King Yibo was not playing. The entire palace immediately straightened itself. Even the highest-ranking nobles fell silent....despite having unresolved matters to address and unfinished judicial proceedings to discuss, none dared to speak. He concluded his final statement, wished them well, and took his leave.
While King Yibo was at the palace saying his farewell before his temporary leave, Zhan was in the Grand store of Beiping, under the supervision of Dengue, the eldest son of the late Prince Maiqing. Zhan was giving orders for various categories of food supplies to be separated and prepared for distribution to the citizens. The young men of the royal household—fifty of them selected personally by Dengue....were assigned to oversee the delivery across different town and regions, including distribution to displaced families from war-torn areas and those suffering extreme hardship.
This development shook the entire city, for nothing like this had ever happened before. In previous years, food aid was only sent to a few provinces, and even then, only small quantities....handled directly by the regional kings, never organized and led by representatives from within the palace.
Furthermore, since the beginning of King Yibo's reign, it had always been Dowager Taihou who held the authority over such distributions as the King's mother. But today, everything had changed....news spread quickly that the Male Royal Consort now held command, and with significant reforms.
When the news reached Dowager Taihou....who was already working on her annual plan for food distribution following Cao's old system....she was stunned. The yearly distribution was usually scheduled once every seven months, and the delivery was supposed to begin the very next day. Yet Zhan had ordered the release of goods far exceeding what she had ever approved....almost a hundredfold. He had even commanded that all food stored for over three years be removed and handed directly to trusted representatives.
The young men, energetic and eager to prove themselves, supported Zhan completely. Despite his youth, they respected him deeply....his authority, his composed strength, and the quiet threat in his presence left no space for disrespect.
Dowager Taihou's breath seized when Jazaa rushed in with the news. She stared intensely at her, as if trying to read truth from her expression, before suddenly rising in a storm of anger and heading into her bedroom. Within minutes she reemerged, already dressed to leave. Jasrah entered just as she was stepping out....since her discharge from the hospital, she had returned to stay in the Dowager's wing. One look at Dowager Taihou's face was enough to understand the fury burning inside her. Jasrah had heard the news too from the palace attendants, and she quickly followed, knowing her sister was on the verge of exploding.
She was still shocked by how much Dowager Taihou's behavior had changed recently. Since returning, Jasrah had tried repeatedly to help her understand who Zhan truly was, but she refused to listen....and now Zhan had introduced yet another dramatic shift.
"Sister, please, calm down. Going to that boy right now is not the solution....it will only damage your dignity. I think you should wait until Zhan leaves the store and then ask for his reasons for making this decision. Or you should contact Yibo. You know Zhan would never act without his knowledge."
"Move out of my way, Jasrah," Dowager Taihou snapped sharply, as if she hadn't heard a word.
Jasrah stood firm. "I won't let you go, Sister. Think about what you're trying to do. What has changed you like this? This isn't who you used to be. Don't forget... we spent almost four years grieving over the consequences surrounding the death of Yibo's wives. But now everything has changed. Thanks to Zhan, the truth became clear, and people finally understood the deceit behind the accusations instead of blaming him."
She stepped closer, voice soft but steady.
"We should embrace him, celebrate his role as the husband of our son.... not fight him at every step. Our only problem with him was what we believed he did in the past. Now that we know the truth, why shouldn't we let go and move forward? Especially for the happiness he has brought to our son."
The sharp sound echoed as Jasrah felt the sting of a clean slap across her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away while Dowager Taihou breathed heavily in anger. It was something that had never happened before. Even when Jasrah was a child, she had never once struck her.... she spoiled her like a daughter she gave birth to, not a younger sister, protecting and raising her like a fragile egg resting carefully in a spoon.
Jasrah opened her reddened eyes, giving a painful, trembling smile.
"I can accept any punishment you want to give me, sister. To me, you are a mother, not just a sister. But I will never allow you to throw away your dignity."
Finishing her words, she pulled the key from the door, stepped out quickly, and locked it firmly behind her.
No matter how loudly Dowager Taihou called her name, Jasrah ignored her. She walked straight into the room that now belonged to her, tears streaming down her face. Jasrah was overwhelmed with confusion about the sudden change in her sister's behavior. She couldn't understand what was troubling her anymore.
Could it be that those who despised Yibo had returned to manipulate her, planting hatred between her and the boy, Zhan? Now she understood Zhan.... she felt genuine affection for him deep in her heart, just like from the very beginning. And the problem that followed was caused by what they believed he had done. But now, she felt ashamed even to face him. She had no idea how she would ever begin to ask for his forgiveness.
Yet above all, the deepest wound was her husband betrayal....someone she trusted more than anyone, today stabbed her in the back, destroying her pride with the wife of his own brother. What a cruel and bitter fate.
Hot tears slid down her cheeks, burning with pain and humiliation. Since that day, the shame had weighed heavily on her chest, and she could barely step outside without fear.... now seen by many as the wife of a person chasing after the former King's concubine.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛