Marriage Completed, Bans Lifted on the Crown Prince and Prince Rowan

The reason Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan was able to defeat Serena was that he had already studied her chess skills thoroughly. Not only did he know her playing style inside out, he’d also long ago devised counter-strategies.

He played with a mind free of distractions against someone with something to prove, and with his own formidable chess skills, Nolan—who always thought ten moves ahead—made Serena’s level seem insignificant.

Being so openly looked down on by Nolan, Serena naturally refused to accept it. She wasn’t a chess master, but she was nowhere near as bad as he made her out to be. She insisted fiercely on a rematch, determined to wipe away her humiliation.

“Another game? Fine—but there should be stakes. Otherwise, where’s the fun?” Nolan toyed with a chess piece, secretly amused. The little fox had finally taken the bait; bringing out the chessboard to lure her in had paid off.

“What kind of stakes do you want?” Serena edged back slightly, adopting a wary posture.

Usually, she was the one playing dumb to outwit others. Nolan’s tone and tactics right now reminded her a lot of how she’d handled the Su Clan before.

“If I lose, I’ll spend tonight with you.” Nolan said this with utter seriousness, startling Serena so much she nearly jumped up. “What did you just say?”

“Exactly what you heard. What’s wrong—afraid to bet?” Nolan leaned to the side, one brow slightly raised. In the candlelight he was half cold, half tender, his posture exuding a languid, seductive charm.

Serena’s mouth went dry. She admitted it—she was tempted by his beauty.

“Fine, I’ll bet. Who’s afraid of who?” Anyway, they hadn’t said what would happen to the loser…

The result of their chess match? Did Serena Feng stick to her three-month rule and keep Ninth Royal Uncle out of her bed, or did Nolan’s superior skill make her surrender her principles?

Even the secret guards wanted to know the answer to that...

Regardless of who won or lost, the next morning the sun rose as usual, and morning court convened as always. Ninth Royal Uncle returned to his manor to change before entering the palace. The main topic remained the hunt for the killers, but there was also a new matter concerning Lyndaria.

Envoys from Lyndaria reported that their Emperor was gravely ill, and urged that Princess Yara Valen and Prince Adrian’s wedding be held as soon as possible.

Everyone present understood the subtext: if the Lyndarian Emperor really died, Yara would have to observe three years of mourning.

This news was hardly good for Nolan. Lyndaria openly announced the Emperor’s illness and pushed for Yara’s marriage, proving that the power had shifted to Crown Prince Terrence Valen. Now Terrence rules as Regent, waiting for the Emperor’s death to ascend the throne.

Though Nolan worried, he kept his composure—after all, until the very last moment, no one can claim victory.

Lyndaria sent a formal state letter. The Eastlyn Emperor could snub Terrence as Crown Prince, but not Lyndaria itself, so he promptly agreed. Once the Imperial Astrologers fixed a date, preparations for Princess Yara and Prince Adrian’s wedding began immediately.

With so much chaos in Eastlyn lately, a happy event was needed to dispel the gloom. The Emperor did not make things difficult for Yara; once the date was set, he ordered the wedding preparations to begin.

But with Yara’s imperial brother gravely ill, the Lyndarian envoys had to handle all the wedding details. Neither the Emperor nor Yara objected; anyone clever knew Prince Titus was no longer in Eastlyn.

Yara received news that her long-awaited wedding was finally imminent, feeling both joy and anxiety. She was glad because marrying now meant the situation favored Crown Prince Terrence; but she worried, because until he actually ascended the throne, Terrence was still just a Crown Prince and Regent.

Though the search for the killers could not be slackened, it would be unseemly to make a public spectacle of it during such a high-profile international wedding. To avoid losing face before the Lyndarian envoys, the Emperor ordered the capital to return to its usual order.

Insiders, however, knew that the capital was calm on the surface but tense within. The overflowing prisons made it clear: this time, the Emperor was determined to drag every hidden threat into the light.

Nolan kept his opinions to himself, maintaining his usual routine: morning court at the palace, afternoons at Feng Manor, nights resting in his own residence. His schedule was so regular that you could tell where he was just by checking the hour.

The Emperor glanced at the surveillance reports on Nolan’s whereabouts and couldn’t help but twitch his lips: “If it’s the same next time, don’t bother telling me.” As Emperor, he was busy—he had no time to track Nolan ‘clinging to Serena Feng every day.’

"Yes, Your Majesty," the spy replied woodenly, then quietly withdrew.

After finishing official business, the Emperor picked up the report detailing Nolan’s daily movements and sighed. His Ninth Brother truly had fallen deep this time. Afraid he would be away at the mausoleum for years, unable to protect Serena, Nolan was making a public show of his attachment—so that after he left, others would think twice before bullying her.

“Ninth Brother, if you just asked, I’d allow Serena to go with you,” the Emperor muttered sarcastically, though he knew it was impossible.

Rebuilding the Imperial Mausoleum was an act of filial piety—bringing a ‘bed-warmer’ woman along would be a scandal.

After court business, the eunuchs brought the green tally for imperial bed selection. Without even glancing at it, the Emperor named Concubine Su. The eunuchs, knowing she was in high favor, dared not comment and hurried to notify her to prepare for the imperial visit.

The Emperor dined in Concubine Su’s quarters, then impatiently went to bed with her. This time, she unleashed every skill she had, serving the Emperor with utter perfection.

All the Emperor’s consorts were noble ladies, and though Concubine Su came from a great house, she had been trained like a Yangzhou courtesan-pony. On the surface, she carried herself with aristocratic dignity, but in reality, she was more uninhibited than any brothel courtesan—the Emperor could not help but sink into her charms.

After their passionate encounter, Concubine Su’s skin glowed red, slick with sweat, and a faint fragrance lingered on her body. The Emperor buried his head in her chest, unable to resist breathing in her intoxicating scent.

With seductive light in her eyes, Concubine Su seized the moment while the Emperor lingered on her body, softly chatting about recent happenings in the harem—how kindly the other consorts treated her, how magnanimous the Empress was, how blessed the Emperor was, and how happy she herself felt.

Eventually, she mentioned the Empress’s longing for her son. She confided that she couldn’t bear to see the Empress so heartsick, and said that if she herself had a child, she would keep him by her side always, showering him with affection.

Throughout her words, she never mentioned Prince Adrian by name, yet the implication was clear enough to soften the Emperor’s heart toward lifting the Prince of Luo’s ban. The next morning at court, some officials took advantage of the upcoming Yara–Adrian wedding to propose lifting the bans on both the Crown Prince and Prince Adrian. Influenced by last night’s conversation, the Emperor agreed without hesitation.

The Empress, hearing that Adrian’s restrictions had been lifted, felt both joy and anger. She was glad Adrian finally had a chance to regain favor, but furious that a single sentence from Concubine Su proved more effective than all the arguments of veteran ministers.

“Your Majesty, you mustn’t get angry. Concubine Su is just a plaything. I’ve examined her body—it’s been trained especially for men. She’s taken many secret medicines to keep her waist slim and her skin flawless. No matter how favored she becomes, she’ll never conceive. She has no family in Eastlyn. In the palace, she has no refuge except to rely on you. There’s no need to be angry over a favored concubine who can never have children.”

The old nurse patiently comforted the Empress, analyzing every angle, until the Empress finally calmed down...