A bulging money pouch was pressed into Taehyung’s hand. He discreetly weighed it—quite a sum indeed.

The man gazed at him longingly. The young boy wore his hair in twin buns, adorned only with two delicate silk cherry blossoms. Yet, his beauty was radiant as spring—a flawless porcelain complexion, rosy lips, bright eyes, and delicate features that needed no embellishment. Even dressed in the simplest pale apricot hanbok, he stood out effortlessly in any crowd. What a pity he was marrying someone else. Taehyung was reluctant too.

He’d miss Bogum’s imposing physique, his brawny arms, and simple mind. He had been one of his carefully selected candidates for marriage. At sixteen, Taehyung was a palace servant in the Imperial Kitchen. Though low in rank, his silver tongue had won him favor among the higher-ups. The scraps from their tables kept him well-fed, hopeful, and glowing. As the saying goes, "Well-fed and warm, desires stir." Under the guidance of his aunt Somi—who had married the captain of the imperial guards—Taehyung was determined to follow in her footsteps.

Young and beautiful, Taehyung refused to spend his days greasy and unnoticed in the Imperial Kitchen. In his free time, he befriended several unmarried guards. With luck, he’d marry smoothly after leaving the palace at twenty-five. Without it, he’d end up like Bogum—abandoned after sweet promises. Orphaned and rootless, Taehyung had no one to arrange a proper match for him. He was adrift, forced to plan his own future. Regrets? A few, but not many. Without Bogum, there were still Kang Dohyun, Namjoon, Seungho... Truthfully, most palace guards were tall and strapping, rarely unattractive. But hearts were fickle. Today’s declarations of love could turn into tomorrow’s betrayal. Hence, he needed options—a safety net. Bogum was decent enough to leave him with a generous sum. He could use part of it to treat Kang Dohyun’s ailing mother, earning his undying gratitude and loyalty. Pleased with his calculations, Taehyung’s steps lightened. Yet the next morning, grim news spread through the palace— The Crown Prince, infamous for his cruelty, bloodlust, and a reputation that silenced crying children, was returning.

The title alone seemed taboo. Even the stalwart Min Yoongi shuddered.

News of the Crown Prince’s return soon swept through the Forbidden City. Yet when Taehyung and other curious servants asked the Imperial Kitchen veterans about him, they clammed up, terrified of repercussions.

The speaker paled, drawing a finger across her throat. The servants exchanged uneasy glances and fell silent. Taehyung concluded: The Crown Prince was not to be trifled with. But he carried on eating and sleeping as usual. After all, the East Palace was worlds apart from the Imperial Kitchen. What did he have to fear? Yet days later, the head eunuch announced shocking news—with the Crown Prince’s return imminent, the East Palace kitchens, long neglected, required restaffing. The Imperial Household Department would transfer ten cooks and dozens of eunuchs and servants from the Imperial Kitchen to serve the Crown Prince’s meals.

Rumor had it the Crown Prince was not only ruthless but also insatiably lustful—indiscriminate in his tastes. Thus, the eunuchs sent were all fair and delicate, the servants tender and comely. None dared risk offending his eyes. Taehyung, unfortunately, was among them. He couldn’t fathom it. If the Crown Prince was so lustful, why not fill his chambers with beauties? Why extend the criteria to the kitchens? Did pretty people cook better? Seeing his former colleagues mourn as if he were heading to the underworld, Taehyung grew uneasy. Upon arriving at the East Palace, he realized it was far grander than imagined—a microcosm of the Forbidden City, complete with its own administrative offices, hundreds of staff, and even a Privy Council. Compared to this, the kitchens were insignificant. He’d never cross paths with the Crown Prince. Dishes passed through countless checks before reaching noble hands. If the Crown Prince sought pleasure, wouldn’t he do so in his chambers? Would he really visit the kitchens to claim someone? Relieved, Taehyung settled in, determined to make the best of it. As the Crown Prince’s return neared, the East Palace bustled with activity—renovations, cleaning, decorations. Within half a month, the entire estate gleamed, down to the glazed tiles on the roofs. While others toiled, the kitchen staff focused on meals, with ingredients supplied by the Court of Imperial Entertainments. The work was lighter than expected. But the guards Taehyung had befriended grew distant, wary of his East Palace posting and its restricted access. Meetings dwindled, dampening his spirits. No matter. Once the Crown Prince returned and he established himself, he’d reassess his options.

The Moonview Pavilion was located in the southwest corner of the Eastern Palace. Rumor had it that the palace had specially selected over a dozen beauties from the Imperial Music Bureau to rehearse songs and dances there for the past two months, all to entertain the Crown Prince upon his return.

This was perfect—he still wasn’t familiar with the layout of the Eastern Palace, and with its strict order, he couldn’t just wander around freely. This trip to the Moonview Pavilion would give him a chance to scout the area. Xiang Xing was a seasoned servant in the Eastern Palace. She had worked in the palace kitchens even before the Crown Prince left for war, and over the years, she had developed a timid and cautious nature. Seeing this new boy brazenly looking around,

At the mention of the Crown Prince, Xiang Xing’s face paled. How dare he gossip about that demon! Though she worked in the Eastern Palace, as the most insignificant kitchen servant, she had only ever caught a distant glimpse of the Crown Prince once. That day, an assassin had appeared in the Chengguang Hall, and the Crown Prince had flown into a thunderous rage. In the end, both the assassin and the traitorous eunuch who had aided him were left in pieces. Xiang Xing remembered it vividly—the Crown Prince striding out of Chengguang Hall with a sword in hand, his robes drenched in blood, his entire being radiating a murderous aura, like a vengeful spirit crawling up from the depths of hell.

Even years later, the mere memory of that scene made her legs weak and her hair stand on end. The Crown Prince’s cruelty was infamous. Even his campaign to the northern borders was said to be a self-imposed exile—punishment for executing several officials without the Emperor’s approval. Just when everyone thought they could finally breathe and wait out their days until leaving the palace, this demon was returning—and after slaughtering seven cities in Northern Wei, no less! His bloodthirsty nature hadn’t changed a bit. Who wouldn’t be terrified?

Taehyung unconsciously lowered his voice, affected by Xiang Xing’s fear

By mid-October, news spread through the palace—the Crown Prince had been ambushed by bandits on his way back to the capital. Struck by multiple arrows, he now hovered between life and death. He had been rushed back to the Eastern Palace. The Emperor and Empress were beside themselves with worry. Every physician from the Imperial Hospital had gathered there, the Medical Bureau was overwhelmed, and even renowned doctors from the common folk were summoned to the palace. Basins of blood were carried out one after another. For days, the Eastern Palace reeked of thick, metallic blood, yet the Crown Prince remained unconscious. The kitchens could only prepare medicinal broths and bland congees, but since the Crown Prince couldn’t even swallow medicine, let alone food, their efforts were in vain. Taehyung carefully suppressed the excitement bubbling in his chest—if the Crown Prince was on death’s door, maybe he could return to the Imperial Kitchen? Yes! In high spirits, he closed his eyes, ready to enjoy a good night’s sleep, when he remembered—he had been in the Eastern Palace for two months now. Had Bogum gotten married yet? Maybe he could sneak into his dreams and find out. Yes, at some point, Taehyung had discovered that he occasionally saw strange scenes in his sleep—Mark drooling over braised pork knuckles, Kang Dohyun rolling around on a pile of gold, or the eunuch Xiao Luzi from the Imperial Kitchen discovering that his… missing parts had grown back. All sorts of bizarre things. Why was he dreaming about Xiao Luzi?! He didn’t care at all! Later, during a casual chat with Mark, Taehyung tested the waters and realized that these scenes were actually other people’s dreams. But he couldn’t just peek into anyone’s dreams—only those of people he interacted with often, those he knew well. Someone like Bogum was easy to slip into. Muttering his name in his mind, Taehyung closed his eyes and drifted into a hazy slumber. The glow of red candles nearly blinded him. Blinking, he took in the sight—two brides in red wedding dresses and veils sat side by side on the bed. Had he stumbled into Bogum’s wedding night in his dream?! Wait… why were there two brides? Just as he was about to investigate, the door creaked open. Bogum, dressed in lavish red wedding robes, stumbled in drunk. Picking up the ceremonial scale from a tray, he lifted the veils of both brides one after another. The bride on the left must be his beloved cousin—delicate and graceful. But the one on the right, gazing at him with tender affection… wasn’t that Taehyung?! Taehyung stared in disbelief as Bogum raised two cups of wedding wine, sitting between him and his cousin. In a bizarre yet harmonious arrangement… the three of them linked arms and drank together. After draining the cups, Bogum beamed, clasping both their hands in his. "From now on, as long as the three of us live happily together, nothing else matters." Taehyung was furious—so furious he jolted awake. The audacity! Marrying his cousin wasn’t enough—he wanted two wives?! What a two-faced scoundrel!

Late at night, the Cheng Guang Palace was brightly lit. Wispy smoke rose from the gilded openwork incense burner, and the dim glow of crimson candles filtered through layers of drapes, faintly revealing a figure lying on a huanghuali wood bed. His eyes were tightly shut, shadows of gloom lingering between his brows, his face deathly pale. Even in unconsciousness, the fierce, unyielding aura around him remained sharp and intimidating, deterring anyone from approaching. The Crown Prince furrowed his brows tightly, the poisoned wound sending waves of excruciating pain deep into his bones. His body felt as though it were tossed between a blazing furnace and an icy abyss. At the same time, fragmented and chaotic voices flooded his ears like a rising tide.

The Empress's voice. However, the Empress of Dazhao had always been a wolf in sheep’s clothing, skilled at putting on a facade. Even if she wished for his death, she would never openly bare her fangs in front of others. Had she abandoned all pretense now that he had returned to the capital? Or was he trapped in some bizarre dream?

Those must be the voices of the old foxes from the Imperial Medical Bureau.

Insufferable. The Crown Prince’s frown deepened. He wished he could rise this instant and strangle that chatterbox of a maid.

It was unmistakably the same person as the noisy one before, but now his tone was docile and proper. The moment he spoke, the entire hall collectively held their breath.

The Empress studied his face—a breathtaking beauty, with eyes like pools of autumn water, full lips, and a figure boasting ample curves and a slender waist. Who knew such a peerless youth was hiding among the palace maids? After a brief pause, the Empress inwardly sneered. Another scheming wench aiming for the royal bed.

Hearing these absurd murmurs, the Crown Prince’s temples throbbed, veins bulging in irritation.

Taehyung rose and hurried back to the kitchens, first swiftly relieving himself, then rummaging through the ingredients until he found what he needed. After scrubbing it thoroughly, he returned to the Cheng Guang Palace.

As he spoke, the gazes of the physicians and palace staff converged on him. The kitchen servants recognized it immediately—though presenting it raw to the Crown Prince was borderline blasphemous. Most of the physicians knew it too, but their expressions were a spectacle in themselves.

Even in his unconscious state, the Crown Prince could hear the hushed discussions in the hall—along with voices that shouldn’t have been audible at all. As if... he were hearing their innermost thoughts? Taehyung carefully poured the medicinal broth into the sheep’s intestine casing, tying both ends securely. The filled casing swelled into an unmistakably suggestive shape, prompting several physicians to avert their eyes awkwardly.

The Crown Prince was baffled. What in the world was this thing? How was he planning to administer the medicine? What kind of ingredient was so repulsive, yet Physician Shen had "used two"? "Used"?

The Crown Prince’s eyes remained shut, his jaw clenched. As the youth’s mental ramblings faded, a slight weight pressed against his eyelids, blocking out the faint light that had seeped through before. Taehyung’s heart pounded wildly, nearly leaping out of his throat. He lifted the drapes and immediately covered the Crown Prince’s face with a handkerchief, leaving only his mouth exposed. This way, he wouldn’t have to face his terrifying visage. Even if he woke abruptly, he wouldn’t see his face right away—buying him time to beg the Empress for mercy.

Before he could finish the thought, a warm, soft touch grazed his jaw, carrying the gentle fragrance of a woman. The Crown Prince’s mind blanked momentarily, veins faintly pulsing at his neck in his unconscious state. No one had ever dared to touch him. Taehyung pinched the Crown Prince’s chin, his gaze lingering on his jade-like yet icy skin and the sharp, cold contours of his face. He froze for a moment. Just this glimpse of his jawline was strikingly handsome, though his lips were excessively pale, his skin nearly bloodless, and his touch colder than winter snow. Were it not for the faint signs of breath, the Crown Prince would resemble a corpse more than an actual corpse. Even blindfolded and unconscious, the oppressive aura of authority radiating from him was palpable, sending chills down one’s spine.

Suppressing his nervousness, Taehyung gripped the Crown Prince’s gaunt, pale jaw, forcing his lips slightly apart with his fingertips. Then, in one swift motion, he squeezed the medicinal broth from the sheep-intestine casing straight into his throat.

A bitter, pungent taste flooded the Crown Prince’s throat, and his eyes snapped open in an instant. Before he could react, his throat instinctively convulsed, swallowing the foul-tasting medicine. Having held his position for years, he had always been highly vigilant about anything entering his mouth. No one had ever dared to force-feed him like this. This was a first. Unaware that the man beneath him had awakened, Taehyung prepared to squeeze in more medicine when his wrist was suddenly seized in a vice-like grip. Already engaged in a perilous task, the abrupt pain in his wrist scared him half to death. He shuddered violently, dropping the sheep-intestine casing in fright.

The Empress and the physicians rushed forward to examine him. Before the Crown Prince could remove the cotton cloth covering his eyes, Taehyung wrenched his wrist free, scrambled to the floor, and knelt with his head bowed.

Grateful beyond words, Taehyung kowtowed without raising his head and hastily retreated.