Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 46

“We should add a rule that prohibits playing with adult toys during work hours,” Lu Hanzhang said suddenly as he emerged from the bathroom, carrying Chu Muyun, who was freshly showered and wrapped in a large bath towel. He gently placed him on the bed.

“Hmph, who else would be as shameless as you?” Chu Muyun snapped, biting Lu Hanzhang’s hand in mock anger.

Then, a thought struck him. “Wait, I saw something online—every absurd company policy exists because someone actually did it. If you tell Human Resources, they’ll know you’ve been playing with toys at work! You’ll be exposed!”

Lu Hanzhang remained silent, watching Chu Muyun with a smile. His sharp features and angular jawline, which usually exuded an intimidating coldness, softened into a warm, melting expression. It was as if the ice on a snow-covered mountain had thawed, giving Chu Muyun the fleeting illusion of tenderness.

Seeing Lu Hanzhang’s smile, Chu Muyun realized his earlier remark had been a tease.

Ahhh, why is he like this? I used to be the only one who teased the Big Boss. How did he become so mischievous, too?

“Get dressed. Let’s eat,” Lu Hanzhang said.

“Okay!”

In the afternoon, President Lu, who was always busy, continued working. Chu Muyun sat beside him, reading a script on his tablet while snacking on a small cake the assistant had bought.

When he grew tired of reading, he glanced up at Lu Hanzhang and their eyes met.

“What’s wrong? Why are you staring at me?” Chu Muyun asked.

“Nothing,” Lu Hanzhang replied, averting his gaze and returning to his work.

Hmm, the Great King keeps looking at me silently today, lost in thought. Did he remember something again?

The Little Demon Consort’s eyes twinkled. He lifted his legs and rested them on Lu Hanzhang’s lap, using the man as a human cushion.

When Lu Hanzhang looked over, Chu Muyun deliberately drawled, “Oh dear, am I bothering you?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Then should I move?”

“…Stay.”

“Hehe.”

Chu Muyun resumed reading his script in that position.

Before long, he grew restless and began whining, “My legs are going numb~ It’s your fault for having such a hard lap. It’s not comfortable enough.”

Lu Hanzhang paused his annotations on a document, his voice laced with exasperation, “Then put your legs down.”

“No.”

Suddenly, Lu Hanzhang reached out and touched Chu Muyun’s leg, gently rubbing, kneading, and massaging it for a while.

“Is it still numb?”

“N-no, it’s not numb anymore. I’m just hungry… I want to eat you.”

Hehe, why is the Martial Emperor being so considerate today? He seems particularly easy to handle.

The Little Demon Consort, who had already forgotten the pain of his earlier injuries, conveniently ignored Lu Hanzhang’s deliberate act of setting the toy to its highest setting that afternoon.

“…We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Lu Hanzhang said, his face reverting to its usual impassive expression.

“Aww, okay.”

Later that evening, after feeding the Little Canary—who had been whining about hunger all day, only to cry about being too full once they reached the bed—Lu Hanzhang picked up his phone and scrolled through the supplementary historical materials sent by his history professor.

His brow furrowed deeply.

Damn it.

He couldn’t quite remember the details. But if Emperor Wu of Yu really was him… then those treacherous ministers should have been executed!

No amount of hindsight could change the past now.

Lu Hanzhang gazed at Chu Muyun’s exhausted, sleeping face, his expression softening. I will strive to live a long life and never let you suffer again, Beloved Consort.

During this time, Chu Muyun was incredibly clingy, sticking to Lu Hanzhang like glue.

Lu Hanzhang brought him to various social events, effectively making their relationship public. He showered Chu Muyun with jewelry: a complete sapphire set, several diamond-encrusted brooches with colorful gemstones, the latest luxury brand pieces, and more classic pearl necklaces and jade bracelets, allowing him to change his accessories for different occasions.

Chu Muyun accepted it all without a second thought. After all, wasn’t this exactly how things had been in his previous life?

In the exclusive group chat of wealthy playboys who didn’t include Lu Hanzhang, members often exclaimed:

[The Crown Prince is really spoiling the Crown Princess! My sister couldn’t get her hands on that jewelry set, and now the Crown Princess is wearing it.]

[Lately, Lu Hanzhang has been inseparable from the Crown Princess. He’s got him completely tied down.]

[The Crown Princess must be a master manipulator. He’s got our Crown Prince, who’s never been in love before, completely bewitched, haha!]

[I’m pushing back my bet on their breakup by another three months.]

[I’ll postpone mine by half a year.]

While attending banquets, Chu Muyun didn’t forget his main task. He read a bit each day and finished the script for his new drama, Snow Moon’s Intertwined Radiance.

The plot was simple: Bu Chongxue, the pampered and willful Young Sect Leader of the Demonic Sect (not a young lady!), disguises himself to escape taking over the sect. He meets Xue Ming, a righteous young swordsman, and the two become bickering rivals. As they travel the martial world, righting wrongs and dismantling the villain’s plot to overthrow the entire martial arts community, they eventually achieve enlightenment. Bu Chongxue leads the Demonic Sect to reconcile with the righteous factions.

To better understand his character, Chu Muyun browsed online fan discussions and was surprised to discover that in the original novel, Bu Chongxue had actually given birth to a child with Xue Ming. The script had changed this to post-marriage adoption.

Huh? How can a man give birth?

If he could, Chu Muyun would gladly bear a child for the Great King. Not because he longed for a child himself, but because he wanted a Crown Prince to inherit their combined bloodline. With a Crown Prince, the infamy from his past life would surely diminish.

Chu Muyun lowered his gaze to the coffee-colored rabbit nuzzling against his leg as it slept, stroking its soft, fluffy fur.

It doesn’t matter, he thought. Times have changed. Even a rabbit can be a Crown Prince now.

Before filming began, Chu Muyun met with the production crew’s stylist. The stylist took his measurements and photographs, preparing to tailor his costumes and design his look.

Historical dramas required far more time for costume and prop preparation than modern dramas.

Many low-budget web dramas relied on rented costumes or mass-produced studio costumes from Taobao. Ill-fitting garments were hastily altered on set, or belts and padded linings were used to mask the poor fit. This production, however, had a substantial budget. While extras could wear studio costumes, the lead actors’ outfits and headdresses were custom-made.

Chu Muyun’s official announcement of joining the cast of Snow Moon’s Intertwined Radiance coincided with the soaring popularity of Misaligned, which was about to premiere.

The Misaligned production crew launched an extensive marketing campaign that proved highly effective, drawing widespread attention. In addition to viewers eager to watch the drama, many casual observers were drawn in by the off-screen drama surrounding Chu Muyun and Luo Yi.

Even before the premiere, the official fan forum erupted in debate. Most participants were book fans who had previously argued in the novel’s comment sections, now simply continuing their battles on a new battlefield.

The central question was: who was the “third wheel” between Gu Minglun and Bai Xiaoyang? In the original story, the Gu and Xu families had arranged a marriage alliance years ago. While the specific partners hadn’t been determined, Gu Minglun had always considered Xu Yi, the male lead, his fiancé, and Xu Yi, though lukewarm, had tacitly accepted this.

Ultimately, however, Bai Xiaoyang and Xu Yi held a lavish wedding, while Gu Minglun suffered a tragic car accident.

[Isn’t Bai Xiaoyang clearly the third wheel here?]

[Are you serious? The marriage alliance was originally meant for Bai Xiaoyang. If he hadn’t gone missing at age three, Gu Minglun wouldn’t even be in the picture!]

[No one expected Bai Xiaoyang to ever be found. Everyone assumed Gu Minglun and Xu Yi were a couple, including themselves. How is that not being a third wheel?]

[Gu Minglun is perfect, but he chose Bai Xiaoyang instead. Xu Yi is both a jerk and blind.]

[Gu Minglun has done so many terrible things. How can he be redeemed? Do people’s morals really follow their looks?]

[Bai Xiaoyang shamelessly stole someone else’s fiancé. How dare his fans criticize others’ morals?]

The debate raged endlessly, with neither side budging. Meanwhile, the hashtag’s popularity soared daily.

Some arguments even spilled over from the characters to the actors themselves.

[Just from the two-minute trailer, it’s clear Luo Yi’s makeup doesn’t suit the role, and his acting is terrible. Yet his fans are still blindly doting on him. Hilarious.]

Chu Muyun casually replied: [Maybe he has pica.]

He was using his burner account, a newly registered one, not the one that had been bombarded by Luo Yi’s fans.

His manager, Jin Ming, had repeatedly warned him, “Don’t log into your main Weibo account to lurk. You might accidentally like something you shouldn’t. The company’s PR budget is generous, but it’s not for you to squander. If you want to use Weibo, stick to your burner account. And don’t post any photos there—not even scenery. Avoid mentioning anything related to the real world.”

Chu Muyun listened carefully. This alt account used a default profile picture and a jumbled alphanumeric ID, making it look like a bot. Yet its homepage exuded a distinct human presence. Scrolling down revealed a series of incoherent, squealing posts:

[Love him, love him, love him, love him, love him, love him, love him!]

[Dreamed of him again…]

[Just seeing him makes me so happy, hehehe!]

[I want to steal his underwear and sew it onto my pillow!!]

[I want to hear him speak, I want him to kiss me…]

[I want to buy all the flowers that smell like sunshine and give them to him!]

[My husband is so handsome, ahhh!]

[My husband is way hotter than yours!!!]

He had disguised himself as a typical fangirl, but every “him” referred to his own Crown Prince.

He used to post frequently on this alt account, but lately he hadn’t been writing much. When he did, it was usually about their intimate moments, reliving them as he wrote his thoughts. Though Chu Muyun was open-minded, he still felt too embarrassed to share such personal content publicly online.

A casual remark from Chu Muyun had ignited a powder keg.

Luo Yi’s fans, who had stormed his alt account to investigate, finished scrolling through his Weibo posts and sneered: [So you’re a Chu Muyun fan, and a delusional one at that. Just wait—your idol’s career will collapse sooner or later, and he’ll be back to being a nobody. No, worse—he’ll end up quitting showbiz to become a male model in nightclubs, where a single bottle of alcohol will buy you the right to call him ‘husband.’]

While the online drama raged, Chu Muyun joined the production crew of Snow Moon’s Intertwined Radiance. This time, filming would take place at Hengdian World Studios in Donghua.

The night before his departure, he and his Great King clung to each other, their farewell lingering throughout the night. From the bathroom to the bedroom to the terrace, they embraced until the first pale light of dawn painted the horizon. On the plane, Chu Muyun slept soundly, exhausted. He only woke up when his assistant, Tian Xingzi, nudged him upon landing.

His previous project, Dance Storm, had been a closed-set production that didn’t allow assistants. Xiao Xing had just returned from a long vacation.

After arriving at the airport, the production crew’s private car transported them to the hotel for check-in.

The next day, during his costume fitting, Chu Muyun arrived on set with a radiant smile. He snapped a selfie and sent it to Lu Hanzhang: [Ready to start work~ This is me in my natural state.]

[After makeup and wardrobe, I’ll be a whole different flavor~]

Lu Hanzhang replied in seconds: [Handsome.]

A moment later, he added: [I want to eat you.]

Hehe.

Chu Muyun typed quickly: [Alright, alright, you can eat me. But only you.]

A voice came from behind him, “Morning.”

Chu Muyun turned to see Han Jin.

Up close, he was 100% certain this was Han Jingchuan. But Chu Muyun hadn’t changed his mind, he wasn’t ready to reveal his identity. He simply replied, “Morning.”

“I watched The Joyful Place. Your portrayal of Young Master Xie was very memorable,” Han Jin said.

Huh? That minor character who kept falling on his face in that terrible drama?

Chu Muyun replied, “You have a good memory. I often see you in dramas too. Your acting is excellent, and your fight scenes are so fluid.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

After a brief, awkward conversation, Han Jin left to get his makeup done.

In the President’s office, Lu Hanzhang saw the photo and immediately typed, [Handsome.] He then zoomed in to admire it more closely.

His gaze suddenly froze on a passerby walking toward the camera behind Chu Muyun, and he frowned.

The man looked vaguely familiar.

A quick search revealed he was an actor, Chu Muyun’s co-star in the new drama.

He remembered seeing this man in the dream he’d mentioned to Chu Muyun but hadn’t described in detail.

In the dream, a kneeling figure loomed before the bed.

He sat propped against the headboard, acutely aware of his impending death. Splattered bloodstains mottled his robe, remnants of violent coughing fits.

Even in the dream, he could feel the dull ache in his chest and the creeping weakness that threatened to overwhelm his body.

“I summoned you here for a task,” the dying emperor rasped. “When I pass, the court will undoubtedly pressure my Consort Chu. The Crown Prince I’ve appointed is weak-willed. If he wavers, you must steel his resolve! Cough, cough. Can you fulfill this duty? If not, I’ll strip you of your command over the Imperial Guard… Cough, cough. I’ll find someone who can.”

The gravely ill monarch resembled a wounded tiger, his regal authority undiminished.

“…Yes, Your Majesty. I accept this command.”

“Cough, cough. General Han,” the emperor called to the kneeling figure outside the tent, “will you safeguard the Yu Dynasty’s realm?”

“I will. This humble subject pledges his life to protect the Yu Dynasty’s lands.”

“If I were you,” the emperor sneered, his voice dripping with reckless arrogance and contempt, “cough cough, I would seize this empire and claim the dragon throne for myself.”

Outside the tent, the kneeling figure remained respectfully silent, head bowed.

“Remember your words today, Han Jingchuan. Cough cough… Since you’ve chosen to be a loyal subject of the Yu Dynasty, adhere to your proper station. Don’t covet what isn’t yours to covet.” His tone was icy.

“…Yes,” the kneeling figure replied, lowering his head further, his voice strained. “This humble subject understands.”

The actor in the photo and the kneeling figure in the dream were the same person.

Lu Hanzhang frowned and instructed Li Weide, who had just entered to report, “Cancel all weekend plans. Book me round-trip tickets to Donghua City—I’ll leave after work on Friday and return Sunday evening.”

He then sent a WeChat message to Chu Muyun: [Visiting you this weekend.]

Chu Muyun replied instantly: [Ahhh! Yay! Boss loves me! Flying kiss from Rabbit.jpg]