TGFH Chapter 26: Prince Lou

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In mid-November, as the weather gradually turned colder, snow began to fall lightly in Shengjing.

Since Xiao Yiran had returned his military authority and taken leave to rest at home, the past month had seen various factions stirring restlessly. The court of Zhao was rife with undercurrents of intrigue. 

Since Xiao Yiran returned his military power and took leave at home, various forces have been ready to move in the past month, and the court of Zhao State has been turbulent. 

Externally, after the Battle of Fengqing, although Di State was defeated, it refused to surrender completely like Yan State, and was only willing to sign a non-war and non-surrender agreement with Zhao State; internally, after Xiao Yiran returned power, another minister reported that Marquis An was ill for a long time and was not suitable for managing the imperial guards, which angered the emperor. Finally, it came to an end under the mediation of Prince Luo and Prime Minister Mu. 

However, a few days later, news came from the Anguo Marquis's Mansion that Marquis An was seriously ill and in a coma. The emperor was shocked. It happened that the genius doctor Yun Mozhi returned to Shengjing. The emperor ordered the genius doctor to go to the Marquis's Mansion to treat Marquis An, and the imperial guards would be temporarily managed by Deputy Commander Yan Langyue.

At this moment, Prince Luo, Rong Chuhuan, had just returned from visiting the ailing Marquis An. As his sedan chair stopped in front of the prince’s residence, Rong Chuhuan stepped out, lifting the curtain. With a handsome face, a tall figure, and a faint smile on his lips, he indeed lived up to his reputation as a charming and debonair prince.

Standing at the gate to greet him was Murong Yao, who bowed politely. “Murong Yao greets Your Highness.”

Rong Chuhuan raised an eyebrow and pulled Murong Yao close by the waist, teasing, “In such cold weather, why is the heir standing at the gate? These servants are becoming more and more careless.” With that, he cast a glance at the guards at the entrance before leading Murong Yao into the residence. The black-clad bodyguard, Ye Han, who had been following Rong Chuhuan, gestured for the kneeling servants to resume their duties and then followed the prince inside.

Once the three entered the room and dismissed the servants, Rong Chuhuan released Murong Yao and returned to his usual aloof demeanor. “The heir arrived quite early. Could it be you couldn’t wait to see me? How amusing that outsiders think I’m the one forcing you.”

Rong Chuhuan and his twin brother, Rong Chuhua, bore strikingly similar appearances. When Rong Chuhuan adopted a cold expression, he bore an even greater resemblance to the composed and reserved Rong Chuhua.

Murong Yao adjusted his clothes, which Rong Chuhuan had just held, and retorted with a sneer, “Enough of this. Your Highness, report what you saw at the Marquis An’s residence today.”

Rong Chuhuan casually took a seat, sipped the tea Ye Han handed him, and replied leisurely, “Why the rush? Yan waited over twenty years; surely, you can wait a few more days.”

“Rong Chuhuan, don’t waste time. Have you forgotten your monthly antidote is still with me?” Murong Yao snapped coldly.

Rong Chuhuan’s eyes darkened. He placed the teacup heavily on the table. “So, the heir intends to threaten me with this?” Closing his eyes, he stopped speaking.

Murong Yao’s expression shifted, and after a long pause, he stiffly replied, “Your Highness, you misunderstand. The antidote is always delivered personally by my father’s men. I dare not use it to threaten you.” He took out a jade bottle from his robe and handed it to Ye Han. “The antidote is here. Now can you speak?”

Rong Chuhuan opened his eyes, watching Ye Han sniff the bottle and nod in confirmation before speaking slowly, “Bu Huaiyuan is indeed unconscious. Yun Mo is staying at the Marquis An’s residence to care for him. Xiao Yiran and Mu Qi were also there today.”

“In that case, we can proceed with the plan, can’t we?”

“It’s not time yet,” Rong Chuhuan replied coolly, casting Murong Yao a sidelong glance.

“What do you mean, it’s not time? When will it be time? We’ve waited five years! You used to say it wasn’t the right moment because Bu Huaiyuan commanded the imperial guards and Xiao Yiran’s army was nearby. But now Xiao Yiran has stepped down, and the assassination of Bu Huaiyuan has succeeded. Even Mu Qi has joined you. If not now, then when?” Murong Yao exclaimed, his voice filled with suppressed fury.

“Next month, Rong Chuhua will go to the ancestral temple to offer sacrifices. Have your men ready and wait for my signal,” Rong Chuhuan said calmly, gazing out the window.

“Fine. Next month it is. I’ll be ready, but I hope Your Highness doesn’t disappoint me,” Murong Yao said, his voice returning to a cold calm as hatred welled up within him at the sight of Rong Chuhuan’s indifferent demeanor.

Ignoring Ye Han, who remained in the room, Murong Yao suddenly smiled and approached Rong Chuhuan. With a swift motion, he pulled the prince close and began undoing his clothes. “Since we’ve finished discussing business, let’s attend to other matters, Your Highness.”

He shoved Rong Chuhuan onto the bed, pressing down on him. Yet Rong Chuhuan, as if anticipating the move, remained expressionless, letting Murong Yao do as he pleased, though his gaze grew more withdrawn. As he was pushed onto the bed, Rong Chuhuan softly called out, “Ye Han.”

Ye Han, who had been silently standing by, clenched his fists at Murong Yao’s actions. Upon hearing his master’s faint call, he closed his eyes briefly and disappeared from the room.

...

About the time it would take to burn an incense stick later, Murong Yao left the prince’s residence. Rong Chuhuan lay on the bed, his clothes still in disarray. The room was eerily quiet, as if no one else was present. But Rong Chuhuan knew that someone had been there all along.

“Ye Han,” he called softly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Master.” A figure appeared out of nowhere, standing at the bedside. It was Ye Han, who had vanished earlier. Moving quietly, Ye Han helped Rong Chuhuan sit up and retrieved the jade bottle Murong Yao had left behind. He poured out a pill and placed it into Rong Chuhuan’s mouth.

After swallowing the pill, Rong Chuhuan reached out, grabbing Ye Han by the collar and pulling his head down. He kissed him fiercely and only let go after a long while. Smiling, he lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, and said softly, "Take off your clothes. I'm tired. Do it yourself."

Without hesitation, Ye Han deftly removed his clothes and climbed onto the bed. He began to caress and stroke Rong Chuhuan's member while using his other hand to prepare himself with a simple stretch. Once Rong Chuhuan began to react, Ye Han positioned himself and slowly sat dow, despite his body still being unprepared.

The sudden tearing pain made Ye Han’s breathing heavy, but after a moment of adjustment, he started to move slowly. Throughout the process, Ye Han was careful and deliberate, seemingly intent on bringing Rong Chuhuan as much comfort and pleasure as possible.

Soon, both bodies trembled slightly, and a white liquid began to seep from where they were joined. Rong Chuhuan suddenly opened his eyes, flipped Ye Han over, and pressed him down beneath him. He began thrusting violently, as if he had lost all reason. Ye Han silently endured, letting out only faint groans when the pain became too much to bear.

Rong Chuhuan was poisoned years ago. This poison was given by the King of Yan before Rong Chuhuan returned to Zhao five years ago. He had to take the antidote every three months. The antidote was secretly sent by the King of Yan, but only to the Crown Prince of Yan, Murong Yao, who then passed it to Rong Chuhuan. Because the poison contained Murong Yao's blood, he had to have sex with Murong Yao before taking the antidote and accept Murong Yao's body fluids as a medicine.

Therefore, Rong Chuhuan and Murong Yao had such a transaction every three months, and in order to facilitate their exchanges, they simply used this relationship as a cover. In view of the identities of the two, they always let people think that Murong Yao was Rong Chuhuan's male lover, but in fact, it was Rong Chuhuan who was always controlled and suppressed.

Every time after such interactions with Murong Yao, Rong Chuhuan would vent his frustration by taking Ye Han fiercely. Rong Chuhuan knew it was meaningless. No matter how many times he asserted dominance over Ye Han, it could not erase the fact that he had been dominated by Murong Yao. Yet he couldn’t help himself. Ye Han was the only one in this world who would never betray him, the only one who would let him have his way. And so, he indulged himself time and time again.

Only after releasing himself fully inside Ye Han did Rong Chuhuan withdraw and slowly lay back on the bed. Without opening his eyes, he said, "Don't move."

"Master, let me fetch water to clean you," Ye Han said softly.

"Stay with me a little longer," Rong Chuhuan replied gently. Then, after a brief pause, he asked, "Ye Han, do you hate me?"

"Master..."

"No need to answer. I know you don’t hate me." Rong Chuhuan interrupted with a smile. But I hate myself more and more. These words he kept to himself, saying them only in the silence of his heart.

Turning his head, Rong Chuhuan gazed at the man beside him. Ye Han’s appearance was rather ordinary, fitting for someone who had started as a death guard following Rong Chuhuan. After Rong Chuhuan was named Prince Luo, Ye Han was promoted to chief bodyguard of the prince’s residence.

"Ye Han, I have a task for you." Rong Chuhuan smiled, reaching out to pull Ye Han closer. He whispered a few words into Ye Han’s ear.

"Yes, Master," Ye Han replied earnestly, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Alright, go fetch water," Rong Chuhuan said, releasing Ye Han and watching him quickly rise and leave to fetch water. Left alone, Rong Chuhuan lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a silent smile.

"Rong Chuhua, will you hate me?"

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