Chapter 42: Chapter 41. The past is too much to think about.

Chapter 41.

Yin Chengyu looked utterly exhausted, his face pale and haggard. Xue Shu, noticing his worn-out state, took it upon himself to knead his shoulders for a while. Not stopping there, he called for someone to bring hot water and a warm towel, gently pressing it against Yin Chengyu’s eyes and the back of his neck. The soothing heat offered a sliver of relief, enough for Yin Chengyu to finally exhale a long, weary sigh.

He had been holding himself together for days, a taut string threatening to snap, but for now, there was this brief moment of respite.

Xue Shu, still working his hands along Yin Chengyu’s shoulders, broke the silence. "What’s got you so tense? Trouble in Xuanfu again?"

Though the refugees fleeing to Shaanxi had been intercepted and returned, Yin Chengyu’s furrowed brow suggested something deeper, something unresolved.

“The number of people sent back from Xuanfu doesn’t match those who fled,” Yin Chengyu admitted, his voice heavy with concern. “And among them, who knows how many are carrying the plague? I fear it will spread into Zhili.”

Problem after problem—it was endless. Just as the epidemic seemed to ease, a new crisis reared its ugly head. Fatigue and frustration gnawed at him, though he refused to let it show.

“Shanxi has managed to control the outbreak,” Xue Shu said, his tone calm but firm. “Even if the worst happens and Zhili faces an epidemic, following Shanxi’s example will keep it manageable.”

“I hope so,” Yin Chengyu murmured, though his gaze remained distant. Shaking his head, he shifted topics. “Have you gotten anything out of those two yet?”

Xue Shu straightened, his expression turning serious. “The uprising among the refugees in Datong was definitely orchestrated. Some people deliberately stirred them up, blending in to escape detection. The two we caught? Just pawns—ordinary folks who were incited to act, chosen because they knew the routes to Shaanxi.”

As much as Yin Chengyu had expected this, hearing it confirmed only deepened his anger. His jaw tightened, and his voice grew sharp. “Utterly despicable!”

The culprits behind this chaos weren’t hard to guess. Even with his eyes closed, he could pinpoint them. It had to be one of his brothers.

The Emperor, accompanied by Consort Wen and Consort De, had traveled south to Nanjing, taking his younger sons, Yin Chengzhang and Yin Chengjing, along for the journey. That left Yin Chengyu, the Crown Prince, behind to govern in his absence. No doubt, both brothers were watching him anxiously, terrified he’d resolve the Shanxi epidemic and add another achievement to his name—a feat that would only make toppling him more difficult in the future.

“Short-sighted fools,” Yin Chengyu spat, sitting up straighter as he forced his anger down. “Enough. Getting angry won’t solve anything. The priority now is containing the epidemic in Shanxi and preparing to shield Zhili before it’s too late.”

He handed Xue Shu a stack of meticulously drafted directives. “The general in Datong is useless. I’m counting on you to oversee the situation there. We can’t afford another mass escape of refugees.”

The unrest had already kept Yin Chengyu stuck in Datong for nearly ten days. But with his personal involvement and Xue Shu’s oversight, the disaster relief efforts in Datong finally began to stabilize, following the plans he had put into motion.

By late May, Yin Chengyu completed his inspections of other affected regions and returned to Taiyuan. The city, once reduced to a lifeless “ghost town,” now buzzed with activity. By day, citizens labored to construct plague hospitals and charity halls. By night, they returned to the city, resting behind fortified gates. Witnessing the sick being treated properly had given the people hope. Even though corpses still left the plague hospital daily for cremation, the once-hopeless victims no longer faced death in despair.

Those who exhibited symptoms, or had sick family members, now actively reported their conditions and sought treatment. The hospitals outside Taiyuan’s city limits had expanded repeatedly, with separate wards for severe and mild cases. Physicians diligently monitored the patients, recording symptoms and administering herbal remedies. Though cures remained elusive, mortality rates had declined noticeably.

After returning, Yin Chengyu headed straight to the administrative office to review the latest reports. Meanwhile, Xue Shu visited the kennel constructed to house the plague-ridden dogs. Reports had come in: the dogs, confined with infected rats as part of an experiment, were succumbing one by one. Most had grown lethargic, refusing food or water. A few even developed swollen nodes on their necks, eerily similar to the symptoms in humans.

The kennel, isolated in a desolate hollow, had been fortified to prevent rats from escaping. Iron plates with tiny holes surrounded it, allowing ventilation but no way out.

Xue Shu took one glance at the grim situation before sending for the imperial physicians.

The past weeks had seen court doctors and summoned physicians from across the region striving to devise a cure for the plague. Though progress was painfully slow, this new evidence linking the rats to the disease might provide a crucial breakthrough.

About half an hour later, not only did the three imperial physicians arrive, but Yin Chengyu and Wen Ling came along too.

“What are you doing here, Your Highness? This place is rife with infection,” Xue Shu frowned, handing him a cloth soaked in mugwort to ward off disease, stopping him from coming any closer.

“I heard about the situation in the kennels. I wanted to take a look myself. When did you set this up?” Yin Chengyu halted, observing the physicians and Wen Ling as they donned thick robes and masks, their bodies thoroughly smoked with mugwort, before cautiously approaching the kennel.

“After returning from Wangjia Village. I remembered some old remedies I’d heard before and decided to try my luck,” Xue Shu replied. “I only hope it proves useful.”

While they spoke, attendants dragged the sick dogs out of the kennel. After a round of examinations by the imperial physicians and Wen Ling, the conclusion was unanimous: “The symptoms resemble those of the plague.”

“These rats truly carry lethal contagion. Whether consumed by man or beast, the likelihood of infection is extremely high,” one physician stated.

Wen Ling, scrutinizing the dogs more closely, called for the last two unaffected ones to be brought out. Comparing them side by side, she hesitated, then said, “But if it’s only about eating rats, why are three out of five dogs in the other pen also showing signs of plague when they weren’t fed any? These infected dogs have severe skin ulcers, likely caused by flea bites. Meanwhile, the two unaffected dogs appear much cleaner with no visible bites. Could it be that merely being in close proximity to the rats spreads the disease?”

Having worked with the physicians and heard about Wangjia Village, Wen Ling added, “The villagers, desperate for food, began catching and breeding rats as a food source. Living in cramped homes, they kept these rats in courtyards or kitchens. They must have had frequent contact while slaughtering them, which likely exposed them to fleas from the rats.”

“Dr. Wen makes a valid point,” one of the physicians mused. “If the rats carry plague, the fleas living on them might also be infected.”

Yin Chengyu nodded. “So, if we exterminate the rats and ensure fleas don’t spread, we might significantly reduce human transmission?”

“It’s worth trying. However, the plague has already spread. Killing the rats now is like closing the barn door after the horse has bolted,” a physician sighed.

“Better late than never,” Yin Chengyu said with a faint smile. “You all focus on developing a cure. I’ll ensure everyone understands the dangers of rats and organize a citywide extermination.”

After ordering the sick dogs and the entire kennel to be burned, Yin Chengyu and Xue Shu returned to the city.

That very night, he instructed his men to draft public notices. By dawn, soldiers were distributing and reading them aloud throughout the city, warning citizens about the dangers of rats.

Additionally, large quantities of mugwort were distributed among the populace, and soon the city was blanketed with its pungent scent to repel fleas and insects.

By June, the entire city of Taiyuan smelled of mugwort. Streets were swept daily, kept immaculately clean, and rats became a rare sight.

But just as Taiyuan’s epidemic eased, dire news came flooding in from other regions. The plague had spread to Daming Prefecture, Shunde, and Xuanfu, with no signs of slowing down.

Yin Chengyu, who had just begun to relax as Shanxi's situation improved, found himself tense once more. He’d predicted this when refugees fled Shanxi earlier, but hearing the confirmed reports weighed heavily on him.

Summoning Shanxi’s governor, Jing Weishan, Yin Chengyu handed over the reins. “The situation here is stabilizing. Follow protocol, and there won’t be any major issues. With the escalating crisis in Zhili, I must return to the capital to oversee the response. I leave the people of Shanxi in your hands.”

Jing Weishan, reinvigorated after working under the crown prince, was initially startled by the announcement but quickly steadied himself. “I will not disappoint Your Highness’s trust.”

*

On the evening of June 12th, Yin Chengyu returned to the capital.

Before he left, he'd only informed a few trusted confidants—his maternal grandfather, Yu Huai’an, and his loyal aide, Zheng Duobao.

The rest of the court? Clueless.

They didn’t even notice the Crown Prince had slipped away to Shanxi for disaster relief until after several futile attempts to track him down. By the time they realized, he was long gone. Throwing a tantrum wouldn’t bring him back, especially with the ailing Grand Chancellor Yu keeping the court in check. No one dared stir up trouble under his watchful eye.

By the time Yin Chengyu returned, reports of a spreading epidemic in the northern provinces had already reached the Imperial Cabinet. Without wasting a moment, he summoned the Grand Secretaries to discuss containment strategies. Directives were issued, plans laid out, and after three or four grueling days, he finally had a moment to breathe.

Slumping back into his chair as the dusky evening light spilled into the room, he set aside a stack of memorials and sighed, exhaustion etched into his face. His first instinct was to call for Xue Shu to rub the tension out of his head. Halfway through opening his mouth, he remembered—this wasn’t his private quarters but the Ciqing Palace.

Xue Shu wasn’t here.

Leaning into the carved armrest, he massaged his temples and called for Zheng Duobao.

The door creaked open, and in walked Zheng Duobao, quietly setting a steaming bowl of noodles on the desk.

Yin Chengyu frowned at the offering, his voice sharp with confusion. “Why are you bringing me noodles at this hour?”

But something felt off. He glanced up, his sharp gaze narrowing, and froze. Standing by the desk, hands respectfully clasped, was none other than Xue Shu himself.

A faint smile curled on the Crown Prince’s lips, his fatigue briefly melting away. “What are you doing here?” he asked, one brow arched in playful curiosity.

Xue Shu’s voice was steady, his expression just shy of serious. “Today is Your Highness’s birthday.”

The words caught Yin Chengyu off guard, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before realization dawned. “Ah. Zheng Duobao might have mentioned that a few days ago.”

Since his return to the capital, he’d been drowning in the crisis management for the northern epidemic. When Zheng Duobao had asked if he wanted to celebrate, he’d brushed it off without a second thought, saying there’d be no festivities this year. But clearly, Xue Shu had remembered.

A slow, knowing smile crept onto his face as his gaze swept over Xue Shu. “So, is this bowl of noodles all I get from you? Think you can appease me with this?”

Xue Shu’s lips twitched slightly before he pulled a small embroidered box from his robes. “The noodles were Zheng Duobao’s idea. This”—he held out the box—“is my gift.”

With a composed bow of his head, Xue Shu offered it, his lashes low as he avoided direct eye contact.

Yin Chengyu took the box and, with no intention of feigning modesty, flipped it open. Nestled inside was a pristine jade longevity buckle, its translucent sheen marking it as a rare treasure—far too refined to be an afterthought.

“You’re thoughtful,” Yin Chengyu remarked casually, closing the box and tucking it away. His tone turned playful as his sharp eyes met Xue Shu’s. “When’s your birthday?”

Not that he needed to ask. After living an entire lifetime, Yin Chengyu knew Xue Shu’s birthday better than anyone. Yet he couldn’t help himself. His mind drifted to the last life, the one where he’d only celebrated Xue Shu’s birthday once.

That first time, he’d put genuine thought into the gift. But instead of gratitude, Xue Shu had smirked wickedly, claiming, “Your Highness, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with gifts. After all, aren’t you the best present I could ever want?”

And, naturally, that “present” had been thoroughly unwrapped that same night—right there in the Crown Prince’s bedchamber, leaving Yin Chengyu with no energy to entertain such thoughtful gestures ever again.

Of course, Xue Shu had thrown his share of tantrums in the years after when no gift appeared. But Yin Chengyu had learned quickly: whether he gave a gift or not, Xue Shu would find his way into his bed regardless. Why waste effort on a present when the outcome was the same?

Amusingly, Xue Shu had retaliated by making his own birthday celebrations into a game. Every year, his gifts for Yin Chengyu came wrapped in ornate boxes, the insides packed with scandalous, utterly inappropriate “toys.”

“July 16th,” Xue Shu answered evenly.

“Exactly one month after mine,” Yin Chengyu murmured, a wicked glint sparking in his eyes. Memories of those audacious gifts from the past life bubbled to the surface, and a slow, devilish grin spread across his face. His voice turned low, teasing, every word dripping with intent. “When your birthday rolls around, rest assured—I’ll have a gift ready for you, too.”

Xue Shu blinked, sensing the trap in those words, but before he could respond, Yin Chengyu added, his tone smooth and dangerously soft, “This time, it’ll be something you’ve never had before.”

———TN:

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