After I Faked My Death, the Dog Emperor Completely Lost His Mind - Chapter 12

Lately, Xiao Jin had become even more distant.

Shen Yuheng couldn’t figure out where he had gone wrong. Trying to get the boy to stay for a bit of reading or a quiet dinner was harder than reaching the heavens. Xiao Jin never revealed where he went and showed zero interest in communicating, leaving Shen Yuheng with nothing but a cold, imposing back.

After three consecutive days of failing to catch even a glimpse of him, Shen Yuheng was reaching his boiling point.

“System,” he grumbled, “how am I supposed to ‘redeem’ him? Is the difficulty setting a bit too high for a novice? I’m asking for a friend!”

In a typical redemption novel, the protagonist does everything for the future big boss laundry, cooking, childcare, the works. But Xiao Jin? He refused to let Shen Yuheng interfere in anything, priding himself on absolute independence.

Why is this kid so difficult? Shen Yuheng broke out in a cold sweat. If he was doomed either way, he’d much rather a quick car accident over being torn apart by five horses!

The System quickly tried to soothe him: [Host, stay calm! You are a master of redemption!]

However, the System was also a bit puzzled. [Um, while I was in sleep mode, did anything… happen between you and Xiao Jin?]

Shen Yuheng pouted. “What could have happened? I asked him to apply some medicine, he made it hurt like hell, smashed the jar, and left my letters and ink in a total mess.”

The System made a confused “whirring” sound. Then why… did Xiao Jin look like he wanted to strangle Shen Yuheng every time he saw him? If it were just typical indifference, that shouldn’t be the reaction.

A few days later, the funeral for the Sixteenth Prince arrived. The arrangements were modest and plain, as few truly cared. The Bureau of Astronomy chose the date, and the Ministry of Rites sent mourning clothes to every palace, inviting the consorts and princes to attend.

Qingzhuo Hall received a set for Xiao Jin. This was the first time Shen Yuheng had seen him in white. The youth’s cold, deep features combined with the pure white mourning attire actually softened the murderous aura surrounding him.

The mourning dress had specific requirements for how it was worn. Shen Yuheng moved to help him, but Xiao Jin brushed his hand away with a sharp, dismissive wave.

“No need,” he said, a trace of self-mockery in his smile. “It’s not my first time wearing this.”

Shen Yuheng: “…” If I’m a genius at redemption, this kid is a prodigy at killing a conversation.

Shen Yuheng lowered his gaze, lost in thought. Suddenly, he steeled himself and asked, “The day the Sixteenth Prince died… you were covered in blood. What really happened?”

The System shrieked: [Host! Host?! Are you insane?!! You can’t just ask that!!!]

Xiao Jin himself looked up slightly, observing the man before him with a hint of surprise. He hadn’t expected Shen Yuheng to have the courage to ask.

That day, Xiao Qi’s assassins had infiltrated the harem to kill the Sixteenth Prince, unaware that Xiao Jin was waiting for them. Though they succeeded in their mission amidst the chaos, they lost over a dozen elite agents a devastating price. Xiao Qi had been furious; imperial princes weren’t allowed private armies, and losing such skilled death-soldiers was a massive blow. To this day, Xiao Qi hadn’t discovered who had slaughtered his men.

The Sixteenth Prince had no powerful maternal family; aside from Xiao Qi, no one would investigate the details. So why was Shen Yuheng risking his life to ask?

Xiao Jin suddenly let out a cold laugh, his eyes seemingly reflecting the blood-red light of that day. “Do you want to tell my Imperial Father?”

The youth suddenly grabbed Shen Yuheng’s chin, his fingertips brushing the corner of his mouth. That skin was softer than the finest pillow he’d ever rested on; with a light press, a deep crimson color would bloom.

Shen Yuheng hasn’t changed, Xiao Jin thought. He just wants to use my life to trade for a bit of pathetic favor from the Emperor.

But Shen Yuheng was different from Xiao Jin’s own birth mother. He actually held the Emperor’s favor something rare for a consort. Because of his noble birth, he was far more dignified. Even in death, he would likely be buried in the Imperial Tombs. He belonged to the Emperor until the very end.

The strange sensation on his jaw made Shen Yuheng feel odd, and a shiver ran down his spine. Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?

He tried to pull Xiao Jin’s hand away. “It has nothing to do with His Majesty. I’m just… a bit worried about you.” Shen Yuheng looked down at the youth in white. Xiao Jin’s eyes were red and his breathing was labored, as if he were suppressing a violent surge of emotion.

Shen Yuheng tried to make his voice sound steady and believable. “I am your ‘Mother Consort,’ after all…”

Outside the hall, Yundou and Jiaobai were sweeping fallen leaves while a few young palace maids gossiped nearby.

“Now that Consort Shen is in favor, he’ll surely move to a larger palace, right?”

“Exactly. Qingzhuo Hall is fine, but it’s inappropriate for him to stay in the same room as the Ninth Prince.”

“The Ninth Prince is only two years younger than him. What if he covets the Consort’s beauty…?”

“What are you talking about?!” Yundou snapped.

“Why are you so upset? The Ninth Prince isn’t even upset yet.” The maids giggled. Yundou was about to argue when a gasp came from behind her.

“Ah!” Jiaobai cried out.

Everyone turned to see the bedroom door slam shut. Xiao Jin walked out with rapid strides. Though he wore pure white, his eyes looked terrifyingly possessed. Since it was the day of the funeral, the maids were already on edge; they turned pale and fell silent instantly.

Yundou looked toward the hall, feeling a sense of dread. “I’m going to check on the Consort.” She and Jiaobai ran inside. The younger maids liked to joke about the living arrangement, but only those two truly worried. Shen Yuheng had treated Xiao Jin so poorly in the past… anyone would hold a grudge. Especially now that the boy was a recognized prince again.

They opened the door and let out a sharp cry. “Consort Shen!!”

Shen Yuheng was curled on the floor, reaching out weakly. They rushed to lift him up; his leg was still injured, making it impossible for him to stand on his own.

“Are you hurt? Was it the Ninth Prince…?” Yundou checked him frantically.

Shen Yuheng didn’t answer, only saying he was fine and needed to rest. But the servants couldn’t rest; they settled him on the bed and ran to find Imperial Physician Xu.

As they ran toward the Imperial Academy of Medicine, they stopped to catch their breath.

“What should we do?”

“What else can we do?” They were genuinely terrified. Their third young master had been pampered since a major childhood illness. He had never suffered this kind of grievance. “Maybe… we should write a letter home.” Despite past conflicts, the Shen family patriarch and brothers would never stand by and watch him be mistreated.

Inside his mind, the System was wailing. [Waaaaah! Host, I’m just glad you’re okay! I thought the mission was going to fail right then and there!]

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Shen Yuheng comforted it.

[But it was so scary! I thought…]

It was scary. Shen Yuheng didn’t know what had possessed Xiao Jin. The moment he mentioned the words “Mother Consort,” he was shoved to the ground. Before he could react, hands were around his throat. He had closed his eyes tight, waiting for the end.

But the hands never tightened. They just held him, palms warm against his skin. The expected suffocation never came. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the youth kneeling over him, backlit so that his features were in shadow.

All Shen Yuheng could see were Xiao Jin’s bloodshot eyes and an unusual flush rising on his face.

The System missed those details, but Shen Yuheng saw them. He just didn’t know what they meant. It couldn’t be some kind of twisted fetish, could it?

Imperial Physician Xu arrived and checked the bruises. The original body was weak; such a fall had left several dark marks. But the most serious was the ring around his neck.

“It’s a good thing your tablet was removed… if His Majesty saw this, there would be trouble,” the physician sighed. “Wear a high-collared cloak if you must see anyone.”

Shen Yuheng nodded.

While resting, he tried to draft a letter home. The original owner had a terrible temper and had cut ties with his family before entering the palace. Reconciling without raising suspicion was going to be tricky.

As he stared at the blank paper, Zhou Yuan came running in, looking frantic.

“Master! It’s just as you predicted! Something happened at the Sixteenth Prince’s funeral!”

The report matched the original book. At the funeral, Su Cheng had accidentally made a mistake in etiquette and was being tormented and physically punished by Consort Yao. Consort Yao was the Emperor’s favorite and held more power than the Empress; she could easily dispose of a minor male attendant.

“Is it resolved?” Shen Yuheng asked. He had sent people to look after Su Cheng.

“Attendant Su is fine, but…” Zhou Yuan hesitated. “The Ninth Prince was there… to protect Attendant Su, the Ninth Prince struck Consort Yao. He has been taken to the Cold Palace to receive punishment!”