After I Faked My Death, the Dog Emperor Completely Lost His Mind - Chapter 23

At the family banquet, wine cups were exchanged and laughter mingled. Scattered princes, princesses, and familiar courtiers networked with one another. In their tipsy states, they spoke half-truths and blurred words, deepening the collective intoxication.

Shen Yuheng, possessing a low tolerance for alcohol, listened to the dazed sounds as his eyelids began to droop. The original owner had been shielded since childhood and had rarely touched a drop. Shen Yuheng was the same; even after becoming a kindergarten teacher, he could always decline social drinking by saying he “didn’t want the children to smell it the next day.” Consequently, he had become a “one-sip-and-done” drinker.

He couldn’t even remember when he had been led to Xiao Huai’s side. The cold sensation of the dragon throne against his thigh finally pulled back a sliver of his consciousness.

His hair, mussed from his earlier nap, was partially scattered behind his back and partially stuck to his pale skin. Shen Yuheng watched as Xiao Huai reached out toward him. He shivered but lacked the strength to retreat.

Xiao Huai’s long, withered fingers threaded through those soft, messy locks, brushing them aside. The movement was casual, almost idle, yet precise enough not to touch Shen Yuheng’s skin directly.

Shen Yuheng blinked slowly. He rarely saw Xiao Huai sitting atop the dragon throne. Their previous meetings were almost always for the business of “serving in bed,” so he was most familiar with the massive bed in the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the incense burner perpetually drifting with warm mist, and… Xiao Huai himself.

The Xiao Huai who summoned him was usually clad in loose Taoist robes, looking like a spectral phantom in a fog, carrying an inexplicable dread. But now, sitting in his dragon robes with a crown and a deep smile, he looked increasingly unfathomable.

“…Your Majesty.” Shen Yuheng’s drunkenness cleared by half. He didn’t understand why Xiao Huai had summoned him. Wasn’t the threat before the Hall of Mental Cultivation that day enough? He sat on pins and needles, backing away instinctively, not daring to get close.

The sight of Shen Yuheng trembling caused Xiao Huai to let out a soft laugh. Nearby, Eunuch Fang signaled for a set of chopsticks and a bowl to be brought to Shen Yuheng.

“Consort Shen, please test the dishes for His Majesty.”

Usually, palace servants tested every dish for poison before the Emperor ate. Why was this job falling to him? Eunuch Fang offered no explanation and silently withdrew.

Just as Shen Yuheng reached for the chopsticks, Xiao Huai’s hand—nearly twice the size of his—grabbed them first. He picked up some vegetables and pinched Shen Yuheng’s cheek with his other hand. “Good child, open up.”

Shen Yuheng froze. Is… is Xiao Huai feeding me?!

This isn’t right!! He was an adult, for heaven’s sake; the last time he’d been fed like a child was over a decade ago. Moreover… he peeked at his surroundings with his peripheral vision.

Xiao Huai’s grip on his cheek suddenly tightened.

Ouch!

The moment he opened his mouth, the red sandalwood chopsticks drove straight in. The jade inlay at the end was bone-chillingly cold, pressing against the sensitive tissue deep in his throat and grinding roughly.

A wave of nausea surged. Shen Yuheng’s eyes welled up with physiological tears; he instinctively wanted to spit the foreign object out, but he had no choice. After ten seconds of agonizing endurance, his throat bobbed, and he finally swallowed the morsel of food.

“Good.”

Xiao Huai withdrew the chopsticks. The jade tip shimmered slightly, and his smile remained leisurely. “Next dish. Continue.”

At that same moment…

With a sharp clack, a jade wine cup hit the floor and shattered into powder.

The officials surrounding Xiao Jin jumped in fright. Palace maids and eunuchs scrambled to their knees to clear the mess. Following the youth’s gaze, the officials looked across the hall.

There, at the far end of the banquet, sat their Emperor, Xiao Huai. And sitting beside him on the throne was Xiao Jin’s Mother Consort, Shen Yuheng.

When did they… again…

Between them, graceful dancers waved their long sleeves. Amidst the hazy incense, the silhouettes of Shen Yuheng and Xiao Huai leaning together looked like an endless, recurring nightmare.

The officials had no idea what kind of emotion Xiao Jin was suppressing. They laughed among themselves, looking quite merry.

“Seeing His Majesty and Consort Shen reconciled sets this old official’s mind at ease.”

“The Consort has favor, and the Ninth Prince has broken the curse of the stars. I am truly gratified.”

The officials were happy to see this. In their eyes, though Shen Yuheng was a man, if the Emperor said he was the Mother Consort, then he was the Mother Consort. The favor shown to the Consort and the status of the Ninth Prince were now inextricably linked two sides of the same coin.

With the Second Prince punished and Consort Shen’s favor restored, it proved the Emperor intended to support the Ninth Prince. Many of Xiao Qi’s former supporters had been vocal after his imprisonment, but while they were screaming for justice one day, they had defected to Xiao Jin the next. The older officials, pressured by the shifting tides, felt they had to gamble on Xiao Jin.

Now, it seemed they finally had their answer.

In a dark, remote corner behind Xiao Jin, Su Cheng sat silently.

Since the moment Shen Yuheng had been summoned by the Emperor, Su Cheng’s gaze hadn’t moved. His seat was in a corner, meaning the dancers didn’t block his view.

Though Xiao Huai was Shen Yuheng’s husband in name, the intimate sight caused Su Cheng to grip his chopsticks so hard they nearly snapped. His feelings were strange. Unlike when he discovered the affair between Shen Yuheng and Xiao Jin… this time, his heart felt as if it were being squeezed.

It was as if he were watching his own precious, untouchable wife being forced to please another man. He imagined a thousand times pushing Xiao Huai away and stealing Shen Yuheng back; the imagery was so vivid his fingertips trembled with excitement.

He shifted his gaze to the side and suddenly froze.

…Unnoticed by anyone, Xiao Jin had vanished.

A consort stood on either side of Xiao Huai, holding incense burners. The warm mist drifted through the Emperor’s hair, seemingly isolating him from the noise of the banquet.

Shen Yuheng would have preferred to stand guard with a burner rather than test another dish. Xiao Huai was mercilessly rough; Shen Yuheng’s mouth felt numb. He had been poked so hard by the jade tip that he’d cried several times.

Xiao Huai’s fingers were incredibly nimble. Holding the long chopsticks, he reached deep into Shen Yuheng’s throat as if two hard wooden fingers were prodding him inside. There must be a wound, he thought. And wine on an open wound… that’s going to hurt.

Before he could negotiate, Xiao Huai pressed a cup to his lips. The colorless liquid had a pungent, heavy aroma. Shen Yuheng coughed, trying to decline, but Xiao Huai showed no sign of yielding.

Hasn’t he already drunk from this cup? Why does he still need me to test it for poison?

Being a lightweight, Shen Yuheng hesitated for a long time before carefully sipping a tiny amount from the rim. Xiao Huai smiled, patted his head, and casually threw the cup aside, letting it shatter.

Shen Yuheng went rigid.

Xiao Huai’s voice was low and airy. “The Consort dislikes wine, yet I happen to enjoy watching. What is to be done?”

With that, Xiao Huai stood up and grabbed a wine jug from the table.

“Your Majesty, I—”

His chin was grabbed, and the bronze spout of the jug was jammed between his soft lips. His pupils dilated in terror. He wanted to slap the hand away, but he was afraid the wine would spill. The sound of the earlier shattered cup still echoed in his ears.

The liquid poured in. Shen Yuheng could only wrap his lips around the spout, his throat bobbing frantically as he struggled to swallow the spicy, stinging liquid. The weight of the jug lightened until not a drop remained.

When Xiao Huai withdrew the spout, a red ring was pressed into Shen Yuheng’s lips. A stray trail of wine he hadn’t managed to swallow trickled down his chin. His head throbbed, his breathing was erratic, and his abdomen felt as if it were on fire.

The drunkenness blurred the pain, flushing his ears a deep red. In his blurry vision, he saw Xiao Huai looking at him with a trace of… fatherly affection.

“It seems the Consort truly does not know.”

Know? Know what? Shen Yuheng couldn’t understand the words anymore. He collapsed straight onto the Emperor’s lap. Xiao Huai gently stroked his back, patting him to sleep as he had done before.

Shen Yuheng’s head was pounding. His limbs felt as if they were sinking into a whirlpool. In a daze, he heard Xiao Huai chuckle and say: “Your elder brother… I… know…”

He didn’t understand. He only remembered the person gently peeling back the fabric at the back of his neck and tracing every inch of his skin with a sharp fingernail.

That night, Shen Yuheng’s sleep was terrible. He woke and slept in cycles, but each time he woke, it felt like sleep paralysis he couldn’t open his eyes or move. He felt feverish and his clothes were stiflingly uncomfortable, yet he couldn’t take them off.

Soon, a comfortable coolness soothed the heat. The thing stifling him vanished, replaced by a tingling… strange sensation.

Through his closed eyelids, he vaguely sensed a dark shadow. The shadow said nothing, but whenever it drew near, that inexplicable sensation deepened. It felt obstructive, as if he were about to lose his breath. He whimpered, trying to speak, but could only produce blurred, broken syllables.

The next morning, Shen Yuheng woke up with an agonizing ache through his entire body. He shook his head, feeling as if it were filled with lead. Recalling the events of the previous night, his face went through a rainbow of emotions.

Hungover on New Year’s Day… what a mess!! Wine is the enemy!

Hearing movement, Zhou Yuan rushed into the room. “Master, how are you?”

“Manageable,” Shen Yuheng said flatly. “Meaning, I’m dying.”

Zhou Yuan smiled helplessly. “Wait a moment, I will fetch Imperial Physician Xu.”

“Wait.”

As Zhou Yuan turned to leave, Shen Yuheng stopped him to ask what had happened after he passed out and if anyone had seen him.

“After the Master passed out, His Majesty had you escorted back to Qingzhuo Hall,” Zhou Yuan said. “After that, aside from myself and a few maids, no one else saw you.”

“Is that all?”

Though it felt strange, Shen Yuheng couldn’t find anything suspicious. It was just… that strange dream about a dark shadow standing beside him.