ITVCFITB CHAPTER 39

 Chapter 39: Did He Hurt Someone?

After doing things in broad daylight in the study, the sort of shame-inducing business one does not dare recall. Luo Shuyu gave Li Mingjin the cold shoulder for the entire morning.

Twice Li Mingjin sidled up to coax him; twice Luo Shuyu offered nothing but a frosty profile. In the end, Li Mingjin could only rub his nose, mount up, and trot into town to buy the snacks his spouse liked.

While he was gone, Luo Shuyu didn’t sit idle. He had the thin summer curtains swapped for thick ones, winter was nearly here, and the rooms needed dressing accordingly.

These past days he’d also been watching the four maids he’d assigned to rough work in the main courtyard. All four could endure; none had slipped yet. He’d mentioned the matter to Li Mingjin as well, asking him to set watchers on them.

Now that they’d given each other both body and heart, their trust had deepened. Anything that struck Luo Shuyu as suspicious, he told Li Mingjin outright.

So far, nothing off about the four maids. The kitchens, however, turned up a sneaky rat. Under questioning, the man claimed he’d been planted by the Crown Prince. The whole thing smelled fishy; Li Mingjin quietly “handled” it. Whether that confession was true or planted was hard to say.

Maybe someone wanted to frame the Crown Prince. He was riding high lately. Or maybe it was the Fourth Prince stirring the pot in the dark.

Li Mingjin’s brothers, none of them were tender herbs.

It had rained the night before. With the wind today, the temperature dropped another rung; even your breath had begun to fog.

Autumn slips by in a blink and the sky changes with it.

Luo Shuyu ordered winter clothes prepared and the cellars stocked deep for the cold months. Life in the royal orbit could be extravagant, but some stores you simply do not skimp on.

Around this time in his last life, he hadn’t yet married out, but he remembered hearing that locusts had ravaged the fields that year; many commoners couldn’t fill their bellies.

Come winter, a tide of refugees might flood the capital. He thought to set up porridge kitchens under the Third Prince’s name.

Then he caught himself being single-minded. Better to tell Li Mingjin and let the court marshal a plan. A few vats of porridge wouldn’t touch the root; refugees needed a winter, not two or three days’ thin gruel.

In the book, Shen Mingyun never lifted a finger for famine relief. There’s only a scene where a refugee thief picks his purse, just a setup so he can “bump into” the Zhou prince again. Nothing more.

Li Mingjin returned from town with several roasted sweet potatoes, still piping hot when they touched Luo Shuyu’s hands.

Seeing the redness seared into his palms, Luo Shuyu frowned. “Where did you even find a hawker?”

“Ah, just wandered,” Li Mingjin mumbled.

Luo Shuyu set the sweet potatoes aside and caught his hands for a look, then reached to undo his robe.

Li Mingjin stepped back. “Shuyu, what are you doing?” He was still supposed to be “in trouble” from this morning.

Face stern, Luo Shuyu scolded, “It’s colder by the day. Galloping back from the main street takes a quarter hour at least. How are these still this hot?” His fingers didn’t stop working the ties.

Li Mingjin didn’t shake him off. When the robe parted, a patch of skin at his chest was visibly reddened.

“Are you a fool?” Luo Shuyu rolled his eyes and told Qingwang to fetch the burn salve.

“It’s nothing,” Li Mingjin hedged. “Just a little red.”

Luo Shuyu pressed that red spot… hard. Li Mingjin hissed.

“A little red and you yelp?” Luo Shuyu took the salve and smoothed the cool ointment over the flushed skin at his chest and hands.

Watching Shuyu fuss over him, warmth pooled in Li Mingjin’s chest.

The next words dunked him in ice water. “Since you’ve made me worry, Your Highness will sleep on the side couch tonight.”

A small voice of rebellion: “Let’s… not?”

Luo Shuyu drew his robe closed and looked up at him. “I don’t go back on my word.”

“Can I refuse?” Li Mingjin tried. How could one sleep on that narrow little thing?

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“…” Fine. He’d take the couch.

At dinner they shared the roasted sweet potatoes. Luo Shuyu ate half of one and left the rest for Li Mingjin to finish.

At bedtime, Luo Shuyu personally laid out the side couch. Li Mingjin dawdled over, lay down with infinite grievance in his eyes.

When the candle was snuffed, his voice floated through the dark. “Shuyu, are you cold?”

Luo Shuyu knew exactly what he was angling for. “Not cold.”

A beat later: “Shuyu, are you asleep?”

“Almost. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You’ll sleep anyway. However you slept before, sleep now.”

“But…”

“Hm?”

“I was wrong.”

“What exactly was wrong?”

“I shouldn’t joke with my body. Shouldn’t be careless with it and make you worry.”

“And will you do it again?”

“I don’t dare. …Can I come back to bed?”

“Reflect on your behavior for one night.”

“…”

Holding his quilt, Luo Shuyu couldn’t quite keep the smile off his lips. Even without the man on the bed, the room still smelled like him; he slept easy.

In the middle of the night, he fell into a warm embrace anyway. Li Mingjin had crept into bed after all.

Newlyweds sleeping apart? Absolutely not.

---

In the morning, noises drifted in from the courtyard.

“Your Highness is practicing today,” Qingwang said. “Would you like to watch?”

“Practicing?” Luo Shuyu had never seen Li Mingjin train in the main courtyard; usually he sparred with the guards on the drill ground. Practicing here piqued his curiosity. He hadn’t seen this in his last life either.

A gray sky, a slight wind.

Dark Three, lurking by a pillar, flashed a signal. “Your Highness, the princess-consort is here! That fancy taiji-sword set you just did is the floatiest, quick!”

The door slid open. Li Mingjin promptly changed routines and began to flourish the sword.

What Luo Shuyu walked in on: Li Mingjin in training garb, sword work flowing like water.

But… didn’t Li Mingjin use a whip, usually? So he knew the sword as well. It did look good.

Each motion had weight; his sleeves flared with the turn, almost immortal-like. Which didn’t quite match that stern, handsome face.

How had he decided on swordplay today?

Watching for a bit, Luo Shuyu smiled. He thought he knew why.

He didn’t want to sleep on the couch.

Li Mingjin finished with a flourish and collected a round of claps and praise. “Your swordplay is lovely, Your Highness.”

“If you like, I’ll perform again tomorrow,” he said quickly.

“So you were performing,” Luo Shuyu replied.

Caught again, Li Mingjin: “…”

Luo Shuyu dabbed his sweat with a handkerchief. “But you prefer blade and whip, don’t you?”

His eyes lit. “And how do you know that?”

“Take a guess.” Caring about everything you like is only natural.

He couldn’t guess. His spouse’s mind was a prism; standing before him felt like being transparent and he loved it.

They flirted through the early hours, and then Li Mingjin headed out. Emperor Tiansheng was reviewing the imperial guards’ annual competition on the parade grounds; all princes were required to attend. Li Mingjin left right on time; Luo Shuyu didn’t urge him to hurry.

As the third son, keeping a low profile suited him best. The emperor still harbored a father’s softness for him; once the other sons eroded that away, he’d learn who truly deserved his care.

That was Luo Shuyu’s initial plan, very much in line with Li Mingjin’s own.

Not long after Li Mingjin left, a letter arrived from the Luo manor. Luo Shuyu read it and his mood brightened.

The Fourth Prince had finally done something satisfying: he’d “taken” Shen Mingyun.

That night, the prince hadn’t hesitated to sleep with him, clearly a ploy to tether him.

Of course there are antidotes for aphrodisiacs. No need to “solve it with your body.” The Fourth Prince clearly had other aims. Coupled with what Li Mingjin had said about his childhood, it was reasonable to suspect the Fourth had sensed Shen’s “specialness” and wanted to harness it.

If so, the man was dangerous indeed. Keen observer, deep schemer. Shen was the opposite: easy to read; everything showed on his face. He’d probably exposed himself long ago without realizing it; the boy had a very poor grasp of himself.

By that logic, the Fourth’s pursuit last time hadn’t been for love, but ulterior motives. Li Mingchun was not simple; his heart wasn’t clean.

Thinking of how, in the book, Shen worshiped the Fourth, tenderness, worry, and devotion, only to give him everything in the end, Luo Shuyu couldn’t help finding it darkly funny. The man didn’t even know his pillow partner.

He’d read the entire novel, but it ended with Shen becoming empress; there was no epilogue. Whether they grew old together, no one knew.

Now that the Fourth and Shen had “advanced,” their trust was thinner than in the last life. Shoved together suddenly, who knew what sparks would fly: passion, or a hard clash?

Luo Renshou’s letter said the Fourth Prince would take Shen into his manor now and, later, raise him to pingqi, which means equal wife.

But that promotion required the prince to have a principal consort first. As long as Shen stayed a nobody, the emperor would point a legitimate bride his way.

---

After fleeing the Luo manor, being drugged, and then having skin-to-skin with Li Mingchun, Shen Mingyun felt thoroughly shattered. He had admired the man, yes, fantasized about the body, sure, but this? Like this?

He was willing to accept the Fourth Prince, but being the one “pierced”. It stung his pride.

A few days ago, he and the system had calmly discussed “after marriage” logistics. Now they’d skipped half the track, no protection used in the “process,” either. Worse, plenty of people saw him leaving the Fourth’s residence at dawn. Try explaining that away.

All told, the Fourth Prince pressed him to enter the manor first; the marriage rites could come later.

Under Luo Renshou’s pressure, Shen had to agree. The memory of that night before Li Mingchun arrived still made his skin crawl. A pack of rabid dogs had almost torn him apart. If not for the prince, who knew what would have happened.

Fine, fine. As long as the Fourth committed himself and with his system on his side, becoming a prince’s consort was only a matter of time.

He could write himself a “Prince-Consort Promotion Manual.”

If not for the witnesses, he would’ve pretended the night hadn’t happened. Now the tiger’s back was under him; he couldn’t climb down. He had to enter the Fourth’s manor.

On this front, the system could only offer items and quests, and the occasional nudge. No more.

He stared at a high-quality wedding outfit draped carelessly across the table and snapped at the system, “If you were a bit more awesome and warned me those guys were scum, would I be swallowing this crap now?”

System: “…”

“And what if I got pregnant?!” he yelped. “Shit!”

“The shop now carries contraceptive pills and sheaths. Host may purchase as needed,” the system replied blandly.

He thought of the Fourth Prince not that long, but… quite a few times. Barely acceptable.

While he compared the cost-effectiveness of pills versus sheaths, Luo Shumo was in Luo Renshou’s study, shouting again, still over Shen.

“How can you just hand Mingyun to the Fourth Prince?” he cried.

“Why not?” Luo Renshou snapped. “That morning, half the city saw him leaving the prince’s manor. What fig leaf is left?”

“Father, I want to marry him,” Luo Shumo said.

The slap cracked across his face. “Your mother has just died, and you’re thinking of marrying Shen Mingyun? He’s more ambitious than any of us. First he used schematics to flirt with the Eldest Prince, now it’s the Fourth. What about him deserves your affection? Our Luo household cannot hold that Buddha!”

Kneeling, Luo Shumo insisted, “He’s got no parents. If he doesn’t fight for himself, who will?”

“I will not agree to take him as a daughter-in-law. Not now, not ever,” Luo Renshou said, steel-hard.

Reeling, Luo Shumo left and went straight to Shen’s Youyou Cottage.

Shen’s face brightened, seeing him.

But the moment Luo Shumo crossed the threshold, he grabbed Shen and kissed him. “Don’t marry the Fourth Prince. Come away with me!”

Shen blinked, stunned. Bro… what are you doing?

He shoved him off. “Cous- Cousin, I only see you as a cousin. There’s no love. Don’t do this.”

Luo Shumo pressed him onto the bed. “That’s not true. That night when we drank if you didn’t like me, why did you kiss me back?”

“I didn’t,” Shen said, even more flustered. “I was drunk. I thought it was my dog…”

“You don’t have a dog!” Luo Shumo snapped, half-crazed, tearing at Shen’s clothes, teetering on the edge of forcing him.

Shen fought like mad. “Get off me, you lunatic!”

Smack!

He slapped Luo Shumo across the face.

“If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Can’t you understand human speech?”

That slap knocked the last sense back into Luo Shumo. He sagged, gave a bitter laugh. “So it was all in my head.”

He stumbled out of the cottage.

Shen Mingyun barred the door at once.

Damn. Almost lost the chrysanthemum.

---

While the Luo clan’s love and hate tangled into knots, life at the Third Prince’s manor stayed comparatively easy.

Luo Shuyu had Qingwang bring out a dusted guqin, wiped it down, and sat to tune. He pictured playing something for Li Mingjin that evening, the two of them sipping a little wine in the autumn wind, and perhaps a sword dance to match.

It sounded beautiful.

Halfway through his first song, a guard from Li Mingjin’s side asked to see him.

He paused, a faint thud in his chest. “What’s the rush? Did something happen to His Highness?”

The guard saluted. “Your Grace, His Highness used his whip to injure someone at the parade ground. His Majesty has had him confined!”

Luo Shuyu bolted to his feet. “He injured someone? How would he injure someone? Where is he being held? Is he hurt?”

He’d left perfectly well this morning. Cheerful, even. How could he possibly have hurt someone?

Nothing like this had happened in the last life. What on earth had gone wrong now?

---

Author’s note:
Third Prince: “Wife, I’m fine, see? I can still stand straight!”
Luo Shuyu: “…”

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