ITVCFITB CHAPTER 62

 Chapter 62 — On the House

For once, Luo Shuyu’s expression cracked. Of all the things the diagnosis might throw at them, infertility was not the one he expected to latch onto his mind.

They hadn’t been in any rush to have a child. They’d chalked up the lack of result to careful precautions and timing. Apparently… not?

He’d agreed with Li Mingjin to wait, but it had never crossed his mind that the poison in Li Mingjin’s body might affect their chances. In his last life they did have a child, perhaps that preconception had dulled his sense of danger.

After a long beat, he asked, “Your Highness… can’t have children?”

Lin Yuan nodded. “For the moment, Consort. This toxin compromises His Highness’s fertility. It’s been accruing for years. Only after it’s fully cleared can…”

Ah. So that was why Li Mingjin had floated the idea of waiting first. He already knew there was a hurdle. Still, with the memory of a future child to anchor him, Luo Shuyu fixed on the real enemy.

“Doctor Lin, what exactly is the poison? Let’s focus on purging it. We’re not in a hurry for children.”

Lin Yuan explained, “It’s a western toxin with a pretty name: ‘Immortal Bliss.’ The first doses produce euphoria. With repeated use, it becomes addictive, miss a monthly dose and you get splitting headaches and violent irritability. The longer it goes, the harder it is to quit. During attacks one fails to recognize people, grows increasingly aggressive, and in severe cases, self-harms.”

Li Mingjin shared a look with Luo Shuyu, received a small nod, and decided on candor. “That’s the one. I’ve had it over ten years. The rumors of my cruelty, most came from it. I was told this poison had no antidote.”

Luo Shuyu added softly, “Doctor Lin, please help free His Highness from this for good.”

Lin Yuan was no fool. He knew the prince’s birth mother hailed from the Western Kingdom; obtaining such a drug wouldn’t have been difficult for someone in her orbit. He didn’t ask who administered it. If the prince did not offer, he would not pry.

“I can’t promise a complete cure,” Lin Yuan said, choosing his words, “but I am confident I can greatly reduce the frequency and severity of episodes, provided His Highness stops taking the poison entirely and follows a regimen of decoctions and acupuncture. It will be a long course, and… trying.”

He didn’t boast, but the quiet confidence in his tone was balm. Suitable physicians who understood poisons and could be trusted were rare; to have one within reach in the north felt like a gift.

“How long?” Luo Shuyu asked.

“To purge the toxin thoroughly, three to five years,” Lin Yuan replied. “It depends on His Highness’s constitution and adherence. If only restoring fertility is the goal, perhaps one to two years.”

“…Understood.” Luo Shuyu glanced at Li Mingjin and then back. “Our priority is to stop the episodes. The last time, he hurt himself. Can we address that early?”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Lin Yuan said. “Give me a few days to draft a full plan. Ideally, we’ll combine internal and external treatment. The outset will be uncomfortable. I beg Your Highness’s patience.”

“Agreed,” Li Mingjin said. “But keep this between us.”

Luo Shuyu proposed, “Then come under the pretext of treating Mister Chen. See him first, then step next door to treat His Highness.”

“Perfect,” Li Mingjin said.

Lin Yuan had no objection. He was already coming often for Chen Rong; now he’d simply make more frequent visits and accomplish twice as much.

After they set the plan, Lin Yuan left to prepare. He hadn’t promised the moon, but he hadn’t sounded doubtful either. Confidence, not bravado.

And that was enough for hope to break through like gentle beams of light in Luo Shuyu’s world.

Seeing the sky clear, Li Mingjin asked, “Want to go out for a walk?”

They’d been in the north for nearly a month and hadn’t truly gone out together once. One due to being busy and the other was the unfamiliar terrain. Now that Mingjin had spread his eyes and ears around the city and felt the area secure, he dared take Luo Shuyu out. The person he couldn’t afford to risk most was his softest armor and his fiercest reason to fight.

“Of course,” Luo Shuyu said, eyes brightening. “I haven’t really seen Gu City.”

Outside, the view matched his first impression: stark, cold, a little desolate. Still, air that hadn’t been breathed fifty times in a courtyard tasted good.

Their carriage drew stares. Doors cracked a thumb’s width so people could peer out. The stories about the Third Prince had been monstrous: ten kills a day, warm human blood, child meatballs for hotpot. Parents had shuddered when they heard he’d be stationed here.

But then there was the talk of “consolation prizes” at the barracks tournament and the lack of missing children. Maybe the wolf’s tail hadn’t shown yet or maybe there was never a wolf.

Near the city gate, Li Mingjin helped Luo Shuyu down. The crowd nearly popped their eyes. A consort, and a male one at that, was supposed to be a brainless indulgence. Instead they saw a young man like a god in white fox fur, fine-boned and luminous, and a prince who looked entirely human: handsome, intent, and gentle whenever his gaze fell on his consort. Not a demon in sight. Frankly, the gate guard Liu Laoliu looked fiercer.

This was where they’d entered the city, their new beginning. Under this arch mingled the scent of iron and snow; above it, a horizon that could be theirs.

“Afraid of heights?” Li Mingjin asked, straightening Luo Shuyu’s cap.

“No,” Luo Shuyu smiled. “I’ve always wondered what the city looks like from up there.”

“Careful on the steps,” Mingjin said, taking his hand.

They were spotted at once. A young squad leader, one who’d won a consolation award, came forward so excited he nearly tripped over his own salute. “Your Highness! Your Highness Consort!”

“At ease,” Li Mingjin said. “We’re just going up for a look. Keep to your duties.”

The prince’s tone had shifted since arriving in the north: steadier, weightier. He no longer tamped himself down as in the capital. He didn’t need to.

“If it pleases Your Highness,” the squad leader blurted, “I could guide you.”

Luo Shuyu found the flushed youth endearing. “Your Highness, shall we let him show us around?”

“Very well,” Mingjin agreed, giving in at once as he often did when his consort asked for something.

Their appearance drew more folk into the open; no one fled the “blood-drinker.” Step by careful step, Mingjin guided Luo Shuyu up the narrow stairs. On the wall the wind bit sharper; the young officer steadied his quilted cap and stood windward to block the gusts.

Looking out from the parapet, Luo Shuyu saw a different world. The north was broad-shouldered plains rather than the capital’s ring of mountains and water gardens. The sweep of it pried his chest open and poured something hot and fierce inside.

The capital was elegant while Gu City was raw. Both had their charm. This expanse, they could win it. They would.

“That pair of low hills,” their guide said, pointing, “can you see the way they almost touch?”

“I see them,” Luo Shuyu replied.

“Since I was little, my ma told me anyone who sees those hills will have good luck, wishes answered,” the young man said with a grin.

“Your mother sounds gentle,” Luo Shuyu said.

“She was,” he said softly. “She got sick. The doctor said it couldn’t be cured. I was small; she feared I’d be too sad when she left. She brought me here, pointed at those hills, and said if I missed her, I should say a prayer and I’d see her in my dreams. It worked. She came and told me to marry a good wife and give her a chubby grandson. I did get married.”

Li Mingjin thought dryly: I didn’t need prayers to marry mine.

But children… that would be harder. Luo Shuyu said it didn’t matter; still, Mingjin wanted to give him everything.

“Let’s make a wish too,” he murmured. “Whether it works or not, we’re here.”

“Alright.”

They both turned to the hills.

Luo Shuyu: May our family be whole sooner; may Li Mingjin live a long life, free of torment; may this life go smoothly, wishes fulfilled.

Li Mingjin: May we have a child of our own; may we walk the rest of our days together; no illness, no disasters.

After more talk of customs, and a brief scolding from the young man’s superior that sent him back to duty, Mingjin slipped him a reward. Then he laced his fingers with Luo Shuyu’s, tipped his chin southward, and whispered, “One day, this and that, will be ours.”

Heat surged in Luo Shuyu’s blood. “I’ll be there to watch you take it.”

“You must,” Mingjin said.

They descended the wall and ducked into a hotpot shop. Inside was warm and lively. Chopsticks froze midair as the couple stepped through the door.

“Is that really the Third Prince and his consort?”

“Heavens, capital nobles are too good-looking.”

“Head down! He’s glaring at you!”

“Husband, as a fellow ger, I must say the consort is stunning, my dream self!”

“Dream on. You snore and talk in your sleep. Can you compare to the consort?”

“You can sleep in the donkey shed tonight!”

Their banter was anything but quiet. Luo Shuyu happened to catch it. He turned and smiled at their table, then said to the bowing shopkeeper, “Put their bill on me. Gu City folk are delightful. May you two live long and happily.”

The couple blinked. A free meal? From the consort?

By the time they scrambled up to kneel their thanks, the upstairs private room was already closed. Not what the rumors promised at all.

As the steam swirled around their table upstairs and they savored northern mutton, far to the south, a different drama simmered.

---

In Tong’an Commandery, Shen Mingyun and the Fourth Prince had finally limped into town and were at each other’s throats.

The reason: the amnesiac man wouldn’t stop clinging to Shen Mingyun.

Shen, delighted by beauty, had named him something painfully commonplace: Xiaoming. Compared with this naive, eager shadow, the Fourth Prince seemed distant and prickly.

Taking Xiaoming in had saddled Shen with a “caregiver’s duty.” At the restaurant, Xiaoming plopped right into the Fourth Prince’s seat. On the road, Shen had coddled him at every turn. Even a saint had limits; a moment ago Xiaoming had “accidentally” poured water on the prince’s boots.

The Fourth Prince’s temper snapped. Fingers clamped around Xiaoming’s throat; the man’s eyes rolled white.

Shen hugged his arm and shouted, “He’s got the mind of a six-year-old, what are you doing!”

“Get him out,” the prince snarled, shaking him off. “You’re mine. He’s a grown man. Stop clinging and cuddling in public!”

“You think that of me?” Shen stared, wounded. “He’s alone. I’m alone. I sympathize, am I wrong? If you hate it so much, I’ll go! Come, Xiaoming!”

They stormed out.

The prince smashed a teapot, chest heaving. Xiaoming burrowed against Shen’s side, all watery eyes and need.

Worse yet, Shen really left and rented rooms in a county under Tong’an jurisdiction and set up without the prince.

No sooner had he unpacked than the long-quiet system pinged.

【System Quest: Assist the Fourth Prince in solving the case quickly. Or else.】

Shen Mingyun: …F**k!

When it rains, it pours.

---

Author’s Note
Third Prince: “Wife, today we’re love rivals. I got jealous and dragged you to a hotel!”
Luo Shuyu: “…”

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