After I Faked My Death, the Dog Emperor Completely Lost His Mind - Chapter 30

Shen Yuheng never expected that he would one day be selecting concubines—even if he was just helping Xiao Huai. He chose with extreme caution, weighing looks and family background, yet the Emperor seemed entirely indifferent. The number of selected concubines far exceeded that of previous years. Seeing the joyous expressions on the selected girls’ faces, Shen Yuheng’s anxiety only deepened.

The spring selection lasted for ten days. On the day they entered the palace, the chosen candidates flocked through the vermilion walls, staring at everything with wide-eyed curiosity. Once they had changed into their robes, they were led to the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The hall, vast as it was, felt cramped with so many beauties in their finery.

Xiao Huai’s tastes were unpredictable. There were quiet and elegant girls, as well as those who were nimble and lithe; every type of beauty was represented. Under the eaves, small eunuchs whispered among themselves.

“So many people… where will the palace put them all?”

“The Emperor insisted. What can be done? New halls and towers are being built. Who knows if he’ll even live to see the day they’re finished…”

The other eunuch lowered his head and shushed him repeatedly. Though Xiao Huai never spoke of his health, it was obvious to everyone that he grew weaker by the day. He wouldn’t be around much longer. While the ministers cared little about the new concubines, they were obsessed with who would inherit the throne: Xiao Jin, or the lurking Xiao Qi, who was likely preparing to launch a coup.

In the hall filled with beauties, a few men sat on the periphery, looking out of place. They exchanged awkward glances. “Which family are you from?” one asked. “I’m from Sui County; my father is the county magistrate…” Hearing that men had a chance this year, their families had sent them in. Very few men had applied, and the requirements were far stricter than for the women; in the end, only these few remained. They felt a strange sensation, though they couldn’t name what was odd.

“His Majesty arrives” the head eunuch’s shrill voice rang out. Everyone knelt in welcome.

“Rise.”

Xiao Huai sat down and let out a soft sigh, as if those few steps had exhausted him. Shen Yuheng sat beside him on the same chair, appearing intimate, yet his expression was one of profound unease. The new concubines were surprised to see a man by the Emperor’s side, but seeing the man’s worried frown, they felt a flicker of pride. They say the Emperor loves young beauties; how could we lose to a man?

However, when the other male consorts saw Shen Yuheng’s face, their hearts gave a violent jolt. In an instant, they understood the strange sensation from before.

On the dragon throne, Xiao Huai looked at the startled male consorts and gave a satisfied smile. His hand rested lightly on Shen Yuheng’s shoulder. “Look at them. Do they not look like you?”

Shen Yuheng looked at them, his lips parting as if to speak, but he said nothing. A smile curled on Xiao Huai’s lips. “The one on the left has a mouth like yours. The one on the right has your eyes.” His voice was raspy, and his breath was cold. “I found them interesting and wanted you to see.”

Shen Yuheng’s lip trembled. He didn’t answer and he didn’t smile.

Xiao Huai looked out at the sea of beautiful faces. “Does Consort Shen also think me a foolish ruler?”

“This servant would not dare.”

Xiao Huai opened his mouth to say more, but the hand on Shen Yuheng’s shoulder suddenly slipped, and his entire body lurched downward.

“Your Majesty!”

Shen Yuheng hurried to support him. Fang Qing stepped forward quickly to block the view of the shocked crowd. “Your Majesty, it is time to return to the Hall of Mental Cultivation for rest.”

Xiao Huai closed his eyes, clutching his forehead, and painfully managed a single word: “Good.”

Shen Yuheng helped him stand. The Emperor was tall and boney; despite it being spring, his gaunt frame was wrapped in heavy robes. He moved like a collapsing mountain slowly and with great difficulty.

In the hall, the new concubines were in an uproar. Xiao Huai had left without giving them titles or assigning their quarters. But that wasn’t the most terrifying part. The Emperor’s health had deteriorated to this level. The Great Zhou had a tradition of funeral sacrifice; while the victims were chosen by the Emperor, now anyone could be selected. They had only just entered the palace, yet they were already facing such a fate. Many burst into tears as they were led away.

Shen Yuheng stayed with Xiao Huai in the Hall of Mental Cultivation, watching him drift into a deep sleep. The face that had always terrified him was now pale and fragile, the lips bloodless. His breathing was so shallow it seemed he might vanish at any moment. Only then did Shen Yuheng realize the man wasn’t a demon he was just a mortal near death.

As he rose to leave, Eunuch Fang stopped him. “Consort Shen,” he said airily. “Congratulations. His Majesty has flipped your tablet tonight.”

Shen Yuheng was stunned. “The Emperor is in this state; why is he still summoning concubines?”

“I tried to dissuade him, but… sigh.” Eunuch Fang shook his head. “If the Consort has no other business, please remain here.”

With so many new arrivals, even the sedan-bearers were in short supply. Shen Yuheng let out a sigh and returned to the hall.

The System was confused: [Why is he flipping tablets now? He’s in no condition to… well, he has the will but not the way, right?]

Shen Yuheng shook his head. A person near death always wants to use their last ounce of strength to grab hold of something vibrant and alive something that is the exact opposite of their own fate. All those young men and women had been brought in just so Xiao Huai could look at them.

[Don’t be afraid, Host. Once Xiao Jin takes the throne… it will all be over!]

“Right.”

As long as Xiao Jin kept his promise, the Shen family would be safe. But Xiao Qi was still missing. The search had lasted three days and nights without finding his camp. The mercenaries he had hired were vicious, greedy, and clever. Shen Yuheng worried for his family every night and found it hard to sleep.

Fortunately, the “strange sensation” at night hadn’t returned. For the past few nights, Xiao Jin had stayed at Qingzhuo Hall to keep watch, and Shen Yuheng hadn’t experienced any nightmares. It seemed everything really was as Xiao Jin had said.

Yet, as time passed, Shen Yuheng’s suspicions grew. Were those things really Xiao Huai’s doing? He was so sick during that time. He had no evidence, but every time Xiao Jin called him “Mother Consort,” he felt a blurred familiarity. He felt as if he had heard a voice in the darkness chewing on those two words with a deep, lingering hatred.

After waking, Xiao Huai’s condition seemed slightly better. He told Eunuch Fang, “Bring that jug of wine.”

Fang Qing froze, a flash of shock crossing his eyes as he looked between the Emperor and the Consort. The old eunuch hurried away.

“What wine?” Shen Yuheng asked.

The man smiled, saying only that it was a fine wine. He looked at Shen Yuheng with that same fatherly affection, as if he were admiring a beautiful flower. Shen Yuheng’s palms grew damp with sweat.

Fang Qing returned with a jug and a single cup. Xiao Huai personally poured the clear, fragrant liquid and held it out to Shen Yuheng.

Shen Yuheng’s hand trembled as he backed away. “…Why does Your Majesty not drink?”

Xiao Huai smiled but said nothing.

He wants me to be a funeral sacrifice. All of Shen Yuheng’s fear and suspicion exploded in that moment. He turned to run, but Fang Qing was ready. The old eunuch’s strength was incredible; he instantly pinned Shen Yuheng down and bound his hands.

Looking at the struggling man, Xiao Huai gently lifted his chin. “Don’t be afraid.” His eyes were like pitch-black voids. “It won’t be long before I come to join you.”

Shen Yuheng gritted his teeth, but Xiao Huai forced his mouth open and jammed the cup inside. The warm, stinging liquid was forced down his throat; he tried to spit it out, but his jaw was held tight until every drop was swallowed.

Fang Qing withdrew as Shen Yuheng was laid on the bed. The substance in the wine worked quickly; his palms grew damp, and a heat flared in his abdomen.

Xiao Huai waited for the poison to take effect. But Shen Yuheng wasn’t like the others. He didn’t die in agonizing convulsions. Instead, a strange flush rose to his pale skin, his body became feverishly hot, and he began to move restlessly against his clothes.

Touching Shen Yuheng’s damp, burning forehead, Xiao Huai suddenly laughed. “The same again…” he murmured, stroking the man’s face with a mix of pity and sorrow. “I didn’t want it to be like this.”

A sharp sting.

A drop of blood appeared on the back of Xiao Huai’s pale hand where Shen Yuheng had bitten him. Shen Yuheng glared at him with a burning fury, refusing to let go.

He had feared Xiao Huai, so he had been submissive; he had served him like a loyal subject and consort. He thought that would keep him safe, yet the man wanted him dead. Shen Yuheng’s eyes cleared for a moment before losing focus again. Xiao Huai withdrew his mangled hand, leaving a deep, bloody tooth-mark on his knuckle, and smoothed the hair on the man’s forehead.

Shen Yuheng’s consciousness was fading. The substance in the wine felt like a burning snake slithering through his body, searching for a way out.

So hot.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. He woke up in a high fever, his mind still trapped in a swamp. It took him a while to remember what happened before he passed out. I didn’t die. Did Xiao Huai let me go? He had no way to know. His breathing grew more ragged. He felt like he was drowning, and he clutched the person in front of him with all his strength. There was a fire inside him, burning away every scrap of logic.

A soft “Tsk” came from above. The voice was much younger than Xiao Huai’s clear and pleasant, yet filled with intense irritation. Shen Yuheng opened his eyes a sliver and realized he was being carried, his head resting against the person’s chest. He didn’t know who it was or where they were going. Their skin was touching, separated only by a thin layer of clothing. He tried to pull away, but the person let out another sharp “Tsk.”

The moonlight was cold.

A moment later, with a creak, all the light vanished. He was carried into a pitch-black room filled with a familiar incense. Shen Yuheng looked up into a pair of eyes that were familiar, yet so burning with intensity they were unrecognizable.

He saw the person’s lips move as they growled two low, deep words:

“…Mother Consort.”