Instead, perhaps because the carriage was warm, perhaps because the Shen residence had finally vanished behind them, or perhaps because Xiao Jingyuan’s eyes were far too focused, Shen Yuheng said lightly, “That depends on Your Highness’s sincerity.”

Xiao Jingyuan’s gaze dropped to his lips.

The air in the carriage changed.

“Yuheng.”

“Mm?”

“You should not tease me in a carriage.”

“Why?”

“Because I cannot guarantee I will remain dignified.”

Shen Yuheng’s eyes curved. “Then Your Highness should practise.”

Xiao Jingyuan stared at him for one breath.

Then he reached out and pulled the curtain fully closed.

By the time the carriage returned to the Seventh Prince’s residence, Qingmo noticed that Wangfei’s lips were slightly redder than when he had left.

His Highness’s expression was stern.

Too stern.

Qingmo lowered his head at once and pretended to see nothing. A servant who wished to live long learned many skills, and blindness at the correct moment ranked above literacy, loyalty, and the ability to brew tea without spilling.

That night, the palace received the report.

The emperor read it once.

Then he read it again.

The lamp beside his hand burned steadily, gilding the edges of the paper, but the light did nothing to soften his expression.

“Poisoning before an imperial banquet. Dowry manipulation before a prince’s wedding.” His voice was low, each word pressed flat by anger. “The Shen House has truly learned courage.”

The chief eunuch stood silently with his hands folded inside his sleeves. He had served in the palace long enough to know that when the emperor spoke softly, the room should breathe even softer.

The emperor placed the report down.

“Do not make a public case yet. Send a reprimand. Strip Madam Xu of her authority over ancestral and dowry records. Fine the Shen household half a year’s ceremonial stipend. As for the servants involved, send them to the authorities. Let the capital know enough to understand, but not enough to turn it into theatre.”

The chief eunuch bowed.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

After a moment, the emperor added, “Send a copy to the empress.”

Empress Ji received the report before bedtime.

The inner palace was quiet at that hour. Agarwood smoke curled thinly from the bronze burner, and the lamps had been covered with gauze so the light fell soft over the carved screens. Empress Ji sat beneath that muted glow and read the report carefully from beginning to end.

When she finished, she smiled faintly.

“Shen Yuheng did not overreach.”

Her senior attendant lowered her eyes. “Does Your Majesty mean he was merciful?”

“No.” Empress Ji placed the report beside the lamp. “I mean he knew exactly how much to take in the first strike.”

The attendant understood at once and said nothing more.

Empress Ji’s gaze moved toward the window, where the dark branches outside scraped gently against the winter night.

“Seventh has chosen well.”

Within two days, the Shen household’s punishment spread quietly through Tianjing.

The official wording was restrained.

Improper household management. Dowry record irregularities. Servants punished for medicinal negligence.

It was all very proper, very polished, and very empty to anyone without eyes.

Unfortunately for the Shen family, noble households were born with eyes sharpened on scandal. They were especially skilled at reading what was not written.

Madam Xu lost control of the main storeroom.

Shen Huaili was reprimanded.

Shen Yulan’s invitation to a spring poetry gathering was withdrawn before the ink on the guest list had fully dried.

The Xu family sent someone to “visit” Madam Xu and left with ugly expressions. By the time their carriage rolled away from the Shen gates, even the horses looked eager to distance themselves.

No one dared say aloud that Shen Yuheng had been poisoned.

But everyone knew something had happened before the wedding, and everyone knew the Seventh Prince’s residence had not swallowed it.

As for the Seventh Prince’s Wangfei, he did not appear publicly during those days.

Rumour said he was resting.

In truth, he was recovering, reorganising the Seventh Prince’s household accounts, training Xiao Jingyuan to interpret system warnings more efficiently, and making the battle prince forget his own name whenever he smiled too gently beneath the lamps.

One evening, Xiao Jingyuan sat behind him on the couch, arms loosely wrapped around his waist while Shen Yuheng reviewed a map of northern supply routes.

This posture had begun as “keeping Wangfei warm.”

It had become something neither of them bothered to explain.

The study was quiet except for the low crackle of the brazier and the faint scrape of Shen Yuheng’s brush against paper. Outside, the night smelled of snow and pine smoke. Inside, the air held the bitter warmth of medicine, ink, and the clean scent of Xiao Jingyuan’s robes.

Xiao Jingyuan rested his chin lightly near Shen Yuheng’s shoulder.

“Here,” Shen Yuheng said, pointing at the map. “If winter snow blocks this road, grain must detour through the eastern ridge. But the eastern ridge has no proper storage point. Why has no one built one?”

Xiao Jingyuan looked at the map.

“Because the local officials claimed the ridge road was too narrow for regular use.”

“Is it?”

“No. Difficult, not impossible.”

“Then someone benefits from keeping the western route dominant.”

Xiao Jingyuan’s eyes sharpened.

“You think this affects military supply?”

“I think every repeated inconvenience has an owner.”

Xiao Jingyuan looked at him for a long moment.

Then he lowered his head and kissed the side of Shen Yuheng’s neck.

Shen Yuheng’s hand paused.

“Jingyuan.”

“Yes?”

“I am discussing logistics.”

“I am listening.”

“You are not.”

“I heard every word.”

“Then what did I say?”

“You said every repeated inconvenience has an owner.” Xiao Jingyuan’s voice was low, warm against his skin. “You are correct. I will have someone investigate the western route merchants.”

Shen Yuheng was silent.

He had answered perfectly.

Xiao Jingyuan’s lips curved faintly against his neck.

“May I continue listening?”

Shen Yuheng closed his eyes briefly.

“You have become shameless.”

“Only behind closed doors.”

Shen Yuheng turned slightly to look at him.

Xiao Jingyuan’s eyes were dark, but his hands remained steady around Shen Yuheng’s waist. Hungry, restrained, waiting.

Always waiting for him.

The warmth that rose in Shen Yuheng’s chest was softer than desire and more dangerous than trust.

He set the brush down.

“Then listen carefully.”

Xiao Jingyuan did.

The map remained open for a long time.

Not all discussions that night concerned military supply.

When the system scheduled another recovery scan two mornings later, Xiao Jingyuan insisted on being present.

Shen Yuheng sat beside the bed in a white inner robe, his hair loose over his shoulders and still carrying the faint languor of someone who had woken late. Morning light filtered through the window lattice, pale and thin, catching on the dark fall of his hair and the soft folds of his robe.

Xiao Jingyuan stood nearby, looking more nervous than he had before facing enemy cavalry.

Shen Yuheng glanced at him.

“It is only a scan.”

Xiao Jingyuan said, “Your old poisoning damaged your body.”

“And it is recovering.”

“I want to hear it.”

The words were plain, but the worry beneath them was not.

Shen Yuheng’s gaze softened.

“Very well. System, begin scan. Share basic results with auxiliary user.”

【Scan initiated.】

The familiar coolness passed through his limbs, light and precise, as though a thread of winter water had slipped beneath his skin.

For several breaths, the room remained quiet.

Then the system spoke.

【Residual toxin: minimal.】

【Recovery from prior poisoning: favourable.】

【Nutritional restoration: improved.】

【Cold accumulation: reduced.】

Xiao Jingyuan exhaled slowly.

Before he could fully relax, the system continued.

【Additional physiological change detected.】

Shen Yuheng stilled.

Xiao Jingyuan looked up sharply.

“What change?”

The system paused for half a breath.

【Early pregnancy markers detected.】

The room became completely silent.

Outside, a winter bird called once from the eaves.

Inside, Xiao Jingyuan stared at Shen Yuheng as though language itself had failed him.

Shen Yuheng lowered his eyes to his own hand resting over his abdomen.

His expression remained calm.

But his fingers trembled once, very slightly.

The system added with professional composure:

【Estimated gestational stage: early.】

【Current status: stable.】

【Recommendation: reduce overexertion, continue nutritional support, avoid toxin exposure, and adjust medication plan immediately.】

Xiao Jingyuan finally moved.

He knelt before Shen Yuheng.

Not because of ceremony.

Because his knees seemed to have made the decision before his mind remembered how to command them.

“Yuheng.”

His voice was almost hoarse.

Shen Yuheng looked at him.

The battle prince who had guarded the northern border since fifteen, who had stood before the emperor and rejected future concubines, who had returned to the palace garden because of a partial warning and held himself together through blood, poison, and court knives, now looked at him with shock, joy, fear, and tenderness so naked that even Shen Yuheng’s composure nearly cracked.

Xiao Jingyuan carefully placed his hand over Shen Yuheng’s, not pressing, only covering.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

That was his first question.

Not heir.

Not bloodline.

Not celebration.

Are you uncomfortable?

Shen Yuheng’s heart softened completely.

“No.”

Xiao Jingyuan swallowed.

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

The system said:

【Primary user emotional fluctuation elevated. Auxiliary user emotional fluctuation significantly elevated.】

Neither of them paid attention.

Xiao Jingyuan lowered his forehead to Shen Yuheng’s hand.

For a long moment, he did not speak.

Shen Yuheng looked down at him, at the proud prince kneeling before him in the morning light, and slowly placed his other hand on Xiao Jingyuan’s hair.

A child.

Their child.

A new life formed after poison, after death, after two worlds had folded impossibly into one.

Shen Yuheng had faced battlefields, court halls, family schemes, and the edge of death with steady eyes.

But at this moment, his throat tightened.

Xiao Jingyuan raised his head.

His eyes were red at the edges, though no tears fell.

“I will protect you both,” he said.

Shen Yuheng looked at him.

Then he smiled, very softly.

“We will protect this child together.”

Xiao Jingyuan’s hand tightened around his.

Outside the room, the Seventh Prince’s residence continued its orderly morning. Servants carried water. Guards changed shifts. The kitchen prepared breakfast. Somewhere in the courtyard, a broom whispered over snow-dusted stone.

No one yet knew that behind the closed doors of the main courtyard, the future of the household had changed.

The system’s final prompt sounded in Shen Yuheng’s mind.

【Child-safe protection protocol may be prepared when user permits.】

Shen Yuheng lowered his gaze to his abdomen.

“Prepare it.”

Xiao Jingyuan heard the auxiliary notification a moment later.

【Future offspring protection protocol pending.】

He went still again.

Shen Yuheng looked at him with faint amusement through the warmth in his eyes.

“Jingyuan.”

Xiao Jingyuan answered immediately, “Yes?”

“You may breathe.”

Xiao Jingyuan inhaled.

Then, carefully, reverently, and with all the restraint of a man holding a miracle he feared to startle, he leaned forward and kissed Shen Yuheng’s hand.