After the first formal greeting to the imperial household, Tianjing quietly developed two new opinions.

First, the Seventh Prince had truly been bewitched by his newly married Wangfei.

Second, his Wangfei was not someone who should be provoked casually.

The first opinion made many people laugh behind painted screens and lowered carriage curtains. The second made those same people glance around before speaking Shen Yuheng’s name, as though the syllables themselves might travel to the Seventh Prince’s residence and return with soldiers.

Inside that residence, life became unexpectedly peaceful.

At least, it appeared peaceful to anyone standing outside the gates.

The residence had always been orderly. Xiao Jingyuan had spent most of his youth at the northern border, and his Tianjing estate carried none of the heavy perfume, coquettish laughter, or velvet idleness of an indulgent prince’s inner courtyard. There were no favoured concubines competing over curtain colours, no side spouses comparing jade hairpins, and no old nurse guarding a register of bedding arrangements as solemnly as an imperial seal.

There were only guards, stewards, ledgers, weapon racks, military maps, and servants who walked as though the smallest sound might disturb a war council.

After Shen Yuheng entered the residence, that order did not disappear.

It simply learned warmth.

The curtains in the main courtyard were changed to softer winter brocade, pale grey with faint silver threads that caught the light like frost on bamboo. The kitchen began preparing medicinal soups that actually suited Shen Yuheng’s constitution instead of merely sounding expensive. The bitter scent of herbs no longer smelled like punishment; it was softened with red dates, ginger, and slow-cooked marrow until even the steam seemed gentler.

The study, once filled with military reports stacked like small fortresses, gained a low couch by the window and a brazier placed exactly where the afternoon sun fell.

Xiao Jingyuan said the couch was for Shen Yuheng to rest.

Shen Yuheng accepted the explanation on the first day.

By the third day, he discovered that the Seventh Prince had developed a habit of sitting beside him whenever he rested there, reading reports with one hand while holding Shen Yuheng’s fingers with the other.

By the fifth day, the reports were often placed aside.

By the seventh day, the servants had learned to knock very softly before entering the study.

That afternoon, snow fell outside the window.

It came down in fine white sheets, veiling the courtyard tiles and gathering on the dark bamboo leaves until the branches bent under the weight. The world beyond the carved window lattice smelled of cold earth, wet wood, and winter silence.

Shen Yuheng leaned against the couch, a pale fur blanket draped loosely over his knees. His black hair was half-bound and half-scattered, with loose strands falling over the white collar of his robe. Illness had once sharpened his beauty into something cold and distant, like a blade left under moonlight. Now that colour was gradually returning to his lips, that beauty had become even more dangerous.

He looked like snow beginning to melt beneath the moon.

Xiao Jingyuan sat beside him, supposedly reading a military report.

He had not turned the page for half a cup of tea.

Shen Yuheng lowered his eyes to the ledger in his hand. The paper smelled faintly of ink and old storage wood.

“Jingyuan.”

“Mm.”

“The report in your hand is upside down.”

Xiao Jingyuan paused.

Then, without changing expression, he turned the report around.

Shen Yuheng’s lips curved.

“Your Highness is very diligent.”

Xiao Jingyuan looked at him.

The words were proper.

The tone was not.

In the days after their wedding, Xiao Jingyuan had discovered something that had never been mentioned in any military manual, court lesson, or imperial instruction.

His Wangfei enjoyed teasing him.

Not loudly, and not frivolously. Shen Yuheng was still Shen Yuheng—calm, elegant, and controlled, with the bearing of someone who could turn a room silent without raising his voice. Yet behind closed doors, when the servants withdrew and the lamps softened the edges of the world, he would occasionally say one sentence in that clear, composed voice and calmly watch Xiao Jingyuan lose half his discipline.

Xiao Jingyuan suspected Shen Yuheng did it deliberately.

He had no evidence.

The system had evidence, but after being muted twice in one morning, it had wisely chosen survival over justice.

Xiao Jingyuan set the report down.

“Yuheng.”

Shen Yuheng turned a page. “Yes?”

“You are doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what?”

His face was serene.

Far too serene.

Xiao Jingyuan leaned closer, and the scent of cold snow on his robe mixed with the faint bitterness of Shen Yuheng’s medicinal tea.

“Making me unable to read.”

Shen Yuheng finally lifted his eyes.

The snow outside was reflected in them, making those calm dark pupils seem deeper than usual. He looked at Xiao Jingyuan for a breath before saying, “If Your Highness can be defeated by someone sitting quietly beside you, perhaps the northern border’s military reputation has been exaggerated.”

Xiao Jingyuan’s gaze darkened.

“Yuheng.”

“Jingyuan,” Shen Yuheng corrected without hesitation.

The correction sounded obedient.

The faint smile beneath it was anything but.

Xiao Jingyuan reached out and took the ledger from his hand.

Shen Yuheng allowed it.

“Your Highness is confiscating household work?”

“I am preserving the border’s reputation.”

Before Shen Yuheng could answer, Xiao Jingyuan leaned down and kissed him.

The kiss began with restraint.

Most things with Xiao Jingyuan did.

He would approach as though asking permission, even after Shen Yuheng had long since learned the rhythm of his breath. His hand would settle at Shen Yuheng’s waist, warm and careful, waiting for any sign of refusal. Only when Shen Yuheng did not move away would his restraint loosen slowly, like a drawn bow being lowered but not set aside.

Shen Yuheng’s fingers curled lightly into the front of his robe.

Xiao Jingyuan paused against his lips.

“May I?”

Shen Yuheng’s lashes trembled once.

“Jingyuan, you are asking after already kissing me.”

“That was one kiss.”

“So Your Highness keeps accounts in such matters?”

Xiao Jingyuan looked at him seriously.

“With you, yes.”

Shen Yuheng laughed softly.

That laugh was Xiao Jingyuan’s undoing.

He kissed him again, deeper this time.

Outside, snow slid silently from the bamboo branches. Inside, the brazier burned low and warm, breathing red light through the study. The ledger slipped from the couch onto the carpet with a muffled sound. Xiao Jingyuan’s hand tightened at Shen Yuheng’s waist, then loosened at once, as if he feared his own desire had shown too clearly.

Shen Yuheng noticed.

Of course he noticed.

This young battle prince, who could look unmoved while ministers argued and assassins were dragged away bleeding, became painfully careful whenever desire touched him.

It was not that he lacked hunger.

He was full of it.

It lived in the way his eyes followed Shen Yuheng whenever he crossed the room, in the way his voice lowered when Shen Yuheng called his name at night, and in the way his hand would stop at Shen Yuheng’s sleeve before waiting, every time, as though Shen Yuheng were both treasure and blade.

Shen Yuheng had been desired before.

At the imperial banquet, he had felt gazes like hands. In the Shen household, he had learned early that beauty could invite admiration and malice in equal measure. In his interstellar life, his birth and appearance had also drawn attention, though discipline and military rank had kept most people cautious.

But Xiao Jingyuan’s desire was different.

It was possessive, yes.

It was intense, certainly.

Yet it never tried to reduce him.

Instead, it seemed constantly startled by the fact that Shen Yuheng was real, alive, and willing to remain beside him.

That made Shen Yuheng softer than he intended to be.

When Xiao Jingyuan drew back, his breathing was uneven.

Shen Yuheng looked at him, eyes bright beneath lowered lashes.

“Your report?”

Xiao Jingyuan closed his eyes briefly.

“Cruel.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Shen Yuheng raised one hand and adjusted Xiao Jingyuan’s slightly loosened collar with deliberate calm.

“Your Highness wrongs me.”

Xiao Jingyuan caught his wrist.

The touch was warm.

For a moment, the air between them sharpened again.

Then the system spoke in Shen Yuheng’s mind with inhuman professionalism.

【Reminder: scheduled recovery scan overdue by one quarter-hour.】

Shen Yuheng’s expression paused.

Xiao Jingyuan immediately noticed. “System?”

“Mm.”

“What did it say?”

“Recovery scan.”

The desire in Xiao Jingyuan’s eyes receded at once, replaced by concern so swift and clean that Shen Yuheng almost found it unfair.

“Scan now.”

Shen Yuheng looked at him.

“Your Highness orders my system very naturally now.”

Xiao Jingyuan said, “It concerns your body.”

“So serious.”

“Yuheng.”

Shen Yuheng sighed lightly, though a faint smile remained in his eyes.

“System, begin scan.”

【Full body recovery scan initiated.】

A cool sensation passed through Shen Yuheng’s body, fine and weightless, like a thread of snowmelt slipping beneath his skin.

Xiao Jingyuan had already become familiar with the system’s limited permissions. He could not see the full data Shen Yuheng received, but when Shen Yuheng allowed it, he could receive basic health summaries.

A moment later, the auxiliary voice sounded in his mind.

【Primary user condition: improving.】

【Residual toxin level: reduced to non-critical range.】

【Organ strain from prior poisoning: recovering.】

【Nutritional deficiency: improving.】

【Recommendation: continue rest, medicated meals, avoid overexertion, and avoid cold exposure.】

Xiao Jingyuan’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

Shen Yuheng glanced at him.

“Now Your Highness is satisfied?”

“Not fully.”

“What else?”

“You still need rest.”

“I am resting.”

“You were reading ledgers.”

“You were reading military reports upside down.”

Xiao Jingyuan had no answer.

Shen Yuheng looked at him for a moment before smiling.

“Jingyuan, have you practised document scanning today?”

Xiao Jingyuan’s expression became solemn with suspicious speed.

The topic had changed.

He accepted the defeat.

Over the past half month, Xiao Jingyuan had been learning to use the system’s partial permissions.

At first, he treated the system like an extremely strict military instructor hiding inside his skull. He listened carefully, asked practical questions, and occasionally frowned when the system’s answers were too direct.

The system, for its part, treated Xiao Jingyuan as a newly authorised auxiliary user requiring repeated training.

Their relationship was efficient.

It was not necessarily harmonious.

Shen Yuheng found it entertaining.

A stack of copied household records lay on the table. Xiao Jingyuan picked up the first one and placed his hand over it as instructed.

“System, scan document.”

The mechanical voice replied in both their minds.

【Auxiliary scan initiated.】

【Document type: Shen household procurement record.】

【Detected inconsistency: ink age mismatch on three entries.】

【Detected inconsistency: payment route changed after original notation.】

【Detected inconsistency: medicinal herb purchase marked as winter tonic; actual item associated with sedative and vascular toxin preparation.】

The study seemed to lose its warmth in an instant.

Xiao Jingyuan’s face turned cold.

Shen Yuheng sat up slightly, the fur blanket sliding against his robe with a soft whisper.

“Which entry?”

The system highlighted the line in his visual field.

Three days before the original poisoning worsened, the Shen household had purchased a batch of herbs under the name of winter tonic ingredients. Among them were two items that, when processed together, could form the base for the plant neurovascular compound detected in Shen Yuheng’s body.

The procurement had been signed by a kitchen manager.

The kitchen manager belonged to Madam Xu’s people.

Qingmo had secretly written the name in his crooked account booklet months ago.

Xiao Jingyuan’s hand tightened around the paper until the edge bent sharply beneath his fingers.

“I will have her arrested.”

“Jingyuan.”

He looked at Shen Yuheng.

Shen Yuheng’s voice remained calm. “Madam Xu will say the servants acted on their own.”

“Then arrest the servants first.”

“And alert the people behind them before the chain is complete?”

Xiao Jingyuan’s jaw tightened.

He wanted to act.

Shen Yuheng could see it in the hard line of his shoulders and the stillness of his fingers. In the northern army, when one found an enemy scout, one seized him and interrogated him before the camp could be endangered. Blood, rope, confession, command. The method was brutal, but it was simple.

Inner-household crimes were different.

Here, the battlefield was reputation, timing, and evidence that could survive tears.

Shen Yuheng reached out and gently pressed Xiao Jingyuan’s knuckles.

“Let me handle the first strike.”

Xiao Jingyuan looked at him for a long moment.

Then he exhaled slowly.

“Tell me what you need.”

No “I will handle it for you.”

No “You should not involve yourself.”

Only: tell me what you need.

Shen Yuheng’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly.

“People who can verify handwriting without belonging to the Shen family. Someone to find where the unused herbs went. And a reason for the Shen household to open its storeroom records publicly without realizing they are being investigated.”

Xiao Jingyuan thought for a moment.

“The Ministry of Rites.”

Shen Yuheng smiled.

“Exactly.”

Three days later, an official from the Ministry of Rites visited the Shen residence.

The reason was extremely proper.

Because Shen Yuheng had married into the imperial family as the Seventh Prince’s principal spouse, the Ministry had to finalise certain ritual records concerning his dowry, ancestral offerings, and maternal inheritance items. Since the original dowry list had already been corrected once before registration, the Ministry wished to compare the final list with the household storeroom records to avoid future discrepancies.

The explanation was so upright that no one could refuse it without looking guilty.

Shen Huaili nearly fainted from anxiety.

Madam Xu’s smile turned stiff.

Shen Yulan hid in her courtyard and refused to come out.