After I Faked My Death, the Dog Emperor Completely Lost His Mind - Chapter 15

Separated only by a pane of glass, Xiao Jin’s silhouette was faint and ghostly, lacking solid form. Only those dark, terrifying pupils remained constant a sight more chilling than any horror film Shen Yuheng had ever seen.

Why is he here? How long has he been watching?

Thinking of what had just transpired, Shen Yuheng’s face flushed with a mix of heat and pallor. He didn’t dare meet those eyes, but in his heart, fear far outweighed shame. Xiao Jin simply felt too dangerous.

He struggled to suppress his trembling, terrified of waking the sleeping Xiao Huai on his lap, and even more terrified of what Xiao Jin might do next. Even if he pushed the Emperor away, with his sprained leg, how far could he actually run?

A rustling sound came from outside the window. Shen Yuheng didn’t dare look up; his lips were quivering. After an eternity, he finally found the courage to peek. The ghostly figure was gone.

Yet, the dread lingering in his chest didn’t vanish with the shadow.

After seeing Xiao Huai settled into sleep, he hurriedly left the Hall of Mental Cultivation. Eunuch Fang was waiting outside as usual.

Shen Yuheng hesitated, then stopped the old eunuch. “Eunuch Fang… did anyone pass by the hall just now?”

Fang Qing looked at him sideways. “I have been standing guard right here, Master. I haven’t seen a soul.” Noting Shen Yuheng’s contemplative look, Fang Qing raised a brow. “Did the Consort see someone while serving His Majesty?”

Shen Yuheng shook his head quickly. “I just thought I heard a noise. I must have been mistaken.”

What would telling Fang Qing accomplish anyway? If Xiao Huai found out Xiao Jin had been prowling around the Hall of Mental Cultivation and punished him, it would only sabotage Shen Yuheng’s redemption progress. He decided to keep it to himself.

However, the thought that everything every touch and word might have been witnessed by Xiao Jin brought the suppressed shame rushing back. His face burned; he wanted nothing more than to find a hole and crawl into it. Even if nothing “substantial” happened with Xiao Huai, they were still sharing a bed…

On the way back to Qingzhuo Hall, Shen Yuheng was noticeably distracted. Once the System woke up and learned of the encounter, it was equally spooked.

[Host, you-you-you… could you have seen wrong?] The System’s voice was shaky. [We all heard it yesterday Xiao Jin was badly injured by Consort Yao’s people. The Emperor even sent physicians. How could he have the strength to scale walls and peek today? Maybe it wasn’t him, but an assassin!]

“…” That’s even worse! Shen Yuheng thought.

As he stepped out of the sedan chair, Yundou and Jiaobai rushed toward him before he could even find his footing.

“Master! The Ninth Prince…!”

Shen Yuheng’s heart skipped a beat. After today, he felt like he was holding a lotus in his hands at peace with whatever disaster came next. But as he listened to Yundou, his calm gaze turned into confusion.

“You’re saying… Xiao Jin came back a long time ago?” Shen Yuheng blinked. “He never left Qingzhuo Hall?”

“He hasn’t left,” Yundou replied honestly. “When Jiaobai delivered the medicine just now, the Ninth Prince was right there. Imperial Physician Xu and several others just checked on him. He’s badly injured and definitely can’t move.”

“Badly injured?”

Yundou nodded. “He was covered in blood when he returned. It terrified everyone…” Jiaobai added, still shaken. “I didn’t think Consort Yao’s people would be so cruel.”

They didn’t particularly like the Ninth Prince, but the sight of him drenched in blood had been horrifying. A thick scent of iron still hung in the air around the hall like an unmovable fog. The physicians had performed a quick suturing and rushed back to the Academy to prepare specialized medicine.

In just half a month, a prince had died and a consort had gone mad. If the Ninth Prince died too, the physicians’ heads would be on the line.

Shen Yuheng rushed into the inner hall. He saw irregular pools of blood on the floor, forming a trail leading straight to the curtains to Shen Yuheng’s own bed.

Xiao Jin was collapsed on the mattress, the sheets stained a jarring, violent red. Sensing Shen Yuheng’s approach, the youth clutched the wound on his abdomen and instinctively retreated. He glared at Shen Yuheng with absolute suspicion, like a wounded beast that refused to let anyone near.

Despite the ferocity in his eyes, there was a palpable fragility in his state. Shen Yuheng was speechless at the carnage. When Xiao Jin tried to move back further, Shen Yuheng quickly pressed him down.

“You’re injured, stop moving!”

The wound was stitched, but he couldn’t afford to be active. Shen Yuheng moved the bloodied blankets aside and called the maids to help. As he tended to the boy, a question began to bloom in his mind.

If Xiao Jin is this badly hurt and can’t walk… then who was the shadow at the Hall of Mental Cultivation?

He had a surreal feeling, unsure if his memory or the blood before his eyes was more real.

Behind him, Xiao Jin’s gaze was fixed on him, showing none of the pain he’d displayed moments ago. Shen Yuheng, who usually loathed filth, showed no anger at seeing his bed ruined with blood. The twisted face of rage he expected to see never appeared.

Xiao Jin felt a sense of disappointment. He wanted to see how much longer Shen Yuheng would play the role of the “Mother Consort.”

As Shen Yuheng leaned in with clean linens, the youth reached out a blood-stained hand. Because of his past as a teacher, Shen Yuheng was used to “children” making a mess while he worked. He didn’t pull away. Xiao Jin’s bloody finger accidentally left a streak of crimson on the white skin near Shen Yuheng’s lip.

The warm, sun-dried scent of the fresh blankets briefly pushed back the smell of blood, only to be reclaimed by the metallic tang of iron.

Xiao Jin’s mind flashed back to the intimacy he had witnessed at the Hall of Mental Cultivation. He stared at the corner of the man’s mouth. If my Imperial Father had bitten him there, would he have seen this same shade of red?

He let out a silent sneer, his jaw tightening. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it. This man spoke of being a “Mother Consort,” yet while Xiao Jin was locked in the Cold Palace, he was off cozying up to another man, completely forgetting his words.

Now, Xiao Jin was simply using this sea of blood to remind him.

Cheng Xiao had asked why he would pay such a price just to test a man like Shen Yuheng. The death-soldier had begged him to reconsider. And just as Cheng Xiao feared, the exertion had caused the wounds to tear open, nearly leaving the physicians helpless.

Xiao Jin couldn’t explain it; he just hated what he had seen including the Shen Yuheng before him, who was currently feigning such deep concern.

Xiao Jin gripped Shen Yuheng’s sleeve. The blood loss made his already pale face look deathly white. Before he lost consciousness, he felt something warm cover his hand.

In his delirium, he saw a woman who looked slightly like himself. She touched his hand and walked out of the Cold Palace a place where Xiao Jin knew every blade of grass. He followed her silhouette to a dark, abandoned hall. There, he heard strange sounds sometimes joyful, sometimes pained.

It was his mother and his elder brother. A scene he had seen in his nightmares countless times.

Xiao Jin’s heart hammered like a drum. He gripped a blade, kicked open the door, and charged in.

However… inside, there was no twisted, lewd imagery. Only a clear, beautiful man, smiling as he gently coaxed a father to sleep.

The knife in his hand clattered to the floor.

During the night, Xiao Jin’s condition took a turn for the worse. Several physicians stayed by his side, terrified of a fatal outcome.

[What do we do?!] The System was in a frenzy. [If the target dies, the mission fails! We don’t have a Plan B!]

“He’ll make it,” Shen Yuheng comforted the System. “The physicians said his life isn’t in immediate danger.”

Imperial Physician Xu urged him to rest, but Xiao Jin was gripping Shen Yuheng’s hand so tightly he couldn’t leave. Besides, he couldn’t sleep even if he tried. He looked at the youth’s sweat-beaded face and constant muttering. At the end of the day, Xiao Jin was only seventeen.

This was my fault, Shen Yuheng thought. I shouldn’t have left him alone in the Cold Palace just to force a plot point with Su Cheng. He sat by the bed, keeping watch through the long night.

When Xiao Jin woke, he was drenched in a cold sweat, feeling as though he had just returned from the gates of the underworld. He recovered quickly; moving his fingers, he felt weak but stable.

When he tried to move his right hand, he realized it was holding something. He looked over, and Shen Yuheng’s quiet, sleeping face filled his vision. The man’s black hair was soft, and the stray locks brushed against the back of Xiao Jin’s hand a fuzzy sensation that felt like an itch in the heart.

Shen Yuheng’s face was clean, devoid of the heavy makeup he once wore, revealing a clear, natural beauty. He had fallen asleep right there, holding Xiao Jin’s hand.

Xiao Jin jerked his hand away in disgust. Then, as if possessed, he leaned in and pried open the older man’s lips with his finger.

The soft flesh of the lips unconsciously pressed against the boy’s finger, as if mimicking a suckling motion. Xiao Jin felt a jolt go through him. He yanked his finger back like he’d been electrocuted. Suddenly, he felt a warm wetness at his abdomen the wound had torn open again, soaked through with blood.

“…Mmm?”

Waking to the commotion, Shen Yuheng rubbed his eyes. He saw Xiao Jin was awake, but before he could celebrate, he saw the fresh blood on the boy’s stomach. How did the wound open again just sitting there?!

He frantically called for Imperial Physician Xu. As he moved to check the injury, the youth gripped the blankets tightly, refusing to let go even as the blood spread.

“Ninth Prince, stop it!” Shen Yuheng grew desperate. As he tried to pry the boy’s hands away, he accidentally brushed against a certain area near the wound…

Xiao Jin turned deathly pale. He violently shoved Shen Yuheng’s hand away, his voice feral: “Get away from me!”

Shen Yuheng retreated, his face flushing red as he looked away. He… he didn’t realize that was the situation!