Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 23

The entire set fell silent. The director’s jaw dropped, his lips silently forming a “wow.” These young people were truly something else.

Chu Muyun’s lightning-fast change of expression stunned Luo Yi for a moment before he erupted in fury, “What did you just say?!”

Chu Muyun chuckled, ignoring him as he stood up and walked away.

That’s a wrap! Time to go home~

Luo Yi clenched his fists repeatedly, his manager desperately restraining him and murmuring about “brand considerations,” looking like he was about to explode from suppressed rage.

Hehe.

Chu Muyun rode back to his hotel.

Having finished work early, he showered and settled into bed, texting Lu Hanzhang while watching an episode of Empresses in the Palace. He was completely absorbed, even reciting the lines dramatically along with the subtitles.

“The maple leaves don’t seem red enough this year~”

“Is that so? Then let’s reward Luo Yi with a scalp. His blood will add some color to the palace maples~”

Before sleeping, Chu Muyun checked his Weibo.

His follower count had surged by half a million overnight, thanks to the free publicity from his opponent’s blunder. He welcomed future contributions.

Perhaps influenced by the drama, Chu Muyun dreamed of events from a thousand years ago.

In his dream, he was the undisputed champion of palace intrigue (self-proclaimed).

This wasn’t a typical harem power struggle for the Great King’s favor. In truth, Chu Muyun had originally been a male consort of the Late Emperor.

He had entered the palace as a consort because he had simultaneously offended the Young Marquis of the Duke’s Manor and the Young General of the General’s Manor. His father, fearing he would inevitably cause greater trouble and believing he lacked the talent for either literature or martial arts to secure an official position that would benefit the family, seized the opportunity when the Late Emperor announced his search for male consorts.

Despite Chu Muyun’s vehement protests, his father hastily pushed him into the palace.

Chu Muyun felt deeply wronged. While he admitted to being flamboyant, neither incident was his fault! The Young Marquis had always resented his perceived delicacy, constantly picking fights with him—the two had been bitter rivals for years. As for the Young General, Chu Muyun had done nothing to provoke him, yet the man suddenly began avoiding him, darting away whenever their paths crossed. Chu Muyun had no idea what had happened.

Reluctantly, he entered the palace.

Initially, he confined himself to his quarters, fearing the Late Emperor’s attention. He had no desire to share a bed with an old man who could be his father, even if he was the emperor.

But he couldn’t escape the Late Emperor’s notice.

The Late Emperor frequently summoned him for chess games and conversations and even arranged for palace servants to teach him zither playing and dancing. Gradually, the emperor began summoning him over a dozen times a month, rarely visiting other palaces.

The Late Emperor never touched Chu Muyun. Initially, Chu Muyun was relieved, but later he secretly suspected that the Late Emperor wasn’t actually homosexual. Perhaps he was simply old and frail, unable to perform, and unwilling to admit it. After all, the imperial harem hadn’t produced any offspring in over a decade—not a single newborn Imperial Prince or Princess. The Late Emperor’s pretense of doting on his male consorts was likely a cover for his long-standing impotence.

After all, no matter how favored a male consort might be, he could never conceive.

Chu Muyun knew the Late Emperor’s affection was an act, but the harem ladies didn’t see it that way. They waged covert war against him, stopping only short of slipping musk into his tea or sending him chestnut cakes laced with oleander powder—abortifacients. Their schemes ignited Chu Muyun’s competitive spirit, and after a series of maneuvers, he managed to outmaneuver a significant number of them.

After several years of navigating the palace’s treacherous currents, the political landscape shifted dramatically. The Late Emperor fell gravely ill and took to his bed, while the Imperial Princes engaged in open and covert power struggles.

The final scene of the dream was the day the Late Emperor passed away and the Fifth Prince, then known as the Great King, led his troops into the Forbidden Palace. It was also the first formal meeting between Chu Muyun and the Great King in either of his lifetimes.

Chu Muyun huddled in his Spring Blossom Palace, too afraid to venture out. Panic gripped the palace.

The walls were too high to scale, and he couldn’t sprout wings and fly away.

Dongqing, his little palace maid, burst through the door, scrambling on her hands and knees. Her voice trembling with tears, she cried, “T-that Fifth Prince is heading this way! I heard they’ve slaughtered Consort Jing’s Harmony Palace and set it ablaze! Young Master, what are we going to do?”

Sigh. What could Chu Muyun do? He was terrified, too.

He frantically tried to recall if he had ever offended the Fifth Prince.

No, surely not. They barely knew each other, having only exchanged distant glances at palace banquets. The Late Emperor’s sons had all been handsome, but the Fifth Prince stood out with his exceptional looks. As a male consort, Chu Muyun had no reason to stare.

Consort Jing’s death must be retribution for harming Consort Rou, the Fifth Prince’s late mother. Chu Muyun had entered the palace long after Consort Rou’s passing.

Panic served no purpose. Chu Muyun sat in the courtyard and instructed Qiu Xing—now his assistant, Tian Xingzi—”Go check if the steamed cakes are ready in the small kitchen. Bring them here if they are.”

Soon, Qiu Xing brought a plate of pastries and placed it on the stone table before him.

The freshly steamed rice cakes, shaped into adorable little rabbit dumplings, were snow-white and tender, still steaming. He picked one up and popped it into his mouth in a single bite.

A pastry to calm my nerves.

Even if I die, I’ll die with a sweet in my mouth!

Not long after Dongqing returned with the news, a loud thud-thud echoed as someone pounded on the tightly shut palace gates.

A moment later, a cold, deep voice rang out, laced with impatience, “Is no one going to open this door?”

Dongqing, the young palace maid, collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. Qiu Xing, though terrified, hurried to open the gate.

Before she could reach it, a deafening crash erupted. Wood splinters flew as a massive fist punched a gaping hole through the vermilion gate, followed by a kick that sent it crashing to the ground. Qiu Xing’s scream mingled with the thunderous sound.

Chu Muyun stared in stunned silence, the pastry in his mouth forgotten. He watched the Fifth Prince—the man who had led the troops to seize the palace, driven his gravely ill father to his death, and slaughtered everyone in Consort Jing’s palace—stride purposefully toward him.

The Fifth Prince stopped before him and lowered his gaze.

He was so tall that the man’s shadow completely enveloped Chu Muyun.

The first thing Chu Muyun noticed was the blood splattered on the Demon God’s robes, and the metallic scent of blood that filled his nostrils. Then he saw the long, pitch-black blade hanging at the man’s waist. The massive blade made his leather-belted waist look even narrower by contrast. Chu Muyun’s eyes widened, his peach blossom eyes rounding into almond shapes. He tilted his head upward and met the man’s deep, obsidian gaze.

“What flavor is that?” the man asked.

Chu Muyun opened his mouth to answer, then realized he still had food in his mouth. His childhood upbringing had taught him to finish eating before speaking, so he quickly chewed several times and swallowed. His slightly puffed cheeks resembled a ball of frosted snow, “Date paste.”

“Oh,” the man grunted, then fell silent again.

Chu Muyun glanced at the porcelain dish. Only one small rabbit-shaped cake remained. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “Would you like to try it?”

The man stared at him, “Feed it to me.”

Chu Muyun pinched the cake between two fingers and held it to the Demon God’s lips. The man bit into it, finishing it in two bites. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.

“Um, you… what are you here for?” Sensing no murderous intent, Chu Muyun mustered his courage to ask. Surely he’s not here to steal the last piece of rice cake from me.

The next moment, his body lifted into the air as he was swept into the man’s arms. “I’m taking you away,” the man said.

They strode out of the palace. No one dared to stop them, the palace maids trembled and knelt to the ground.

On the road outside the palace gates, Chu Muyun asked, “Your father, the Late Emperor, never touched me. I don’t think he was gay, I think he used me as a cover. Are you doing the same?”

The man glanced at him and spoke the longest sentence Chu Muyun had heard from him since they first met.

“I will bed you tonight.”

That night, red candles flickered in Weiyang Palace. The young male consort’s innocent gasps gradually transformed into wanton moans.

Chu Muyun had initially believed that the Great King had snatched him away to become a consort out of sheer perversity—what we’d call a “degenerate” today. He’d assumed the king found bedding his own father’s consort particularly enticing and might later favor others from the Late Emperor’s harem.

But that never happened.

The Great King’s harem remained exclusively his. Chu Muyun didn’t need to scheme or compete, he simply lay in the king’s arms, eating lychees.

It was as if, even before that day, when Chu Muyun was still unaware, the Great King—then still the Fifth Prince—had already been silently watching him.

———

Weiyang Tent Warm Forum → Watercooler Zone → Homepage

Thread: “A newbie’s thoughts after diving in—this is the CP with the most dog-blood and smut tropes I’ve ever encountered!”

OP: Most of the stories seem to be about arranged marriages leading to love, forced relationships with stepmothers, forceful possession, and endless torment… After overdosing on the steamy stuff, it’s hard to find a sweet, wholesome romance for a change. #DogHead

1st Reply:

Have you read the historical accounts? This is actual history—not a single character is out of character.

The arranged marriage, forced stepmother relationships, forceful possession, and endless torment you mentioned? The Martial King did all of that.

2nd Reply:

Replying to 1st Reply:

Exactly! My man has a morally bankrupt kind of beauty (not).