Li Xun was silent.

Li Xun was confused.

Li Xun was—boiling with rage.

His face gradually darkened as he struggled to hold back his temper. But just as he was about to snap, his peripheral vision caught sight of Shen Qian holding a plate of egg tarts… Halfway into his stormy expression, he forcibly held it in.

He furiously tamped down the flames burning in his chest and asked through clenched teeth, “Is the Crown Prince… really that bad?”

Li Xun knew well enough that some ministers in the court, as well as taijian, inner officials, and palace maids, feared him more than they did his father, the Emperor. And he couldn’t really blame them. His temper wasn’t exactly mild. Backed by the Emperor, he always acted with little restraint, using some pretty intense methods.

When he first entered the court, there were old officials clinging to seniority—while they didn’t openly sabotage him, they sure weren’t cooperative. He came down on them with swift and tough tactics, which earned him a bit of a “ferocious” reputation.

But… eating children? Wasn’t that a bit too much?!

However, the maids and attendants exchanged looks—then nodded in agreement.

“Yeah… Because of the late Empress’s concern, His Majesty spoils the Crown Prince like crazy and doesn’t discipline him at all. I heard the Crown Prince is super violent, his moods are all over the place, and he loves using torture. They say he can’t eat without watching some cruel punishment, otherwise he has no appetite.”

Li Xun: “……”

Okay… sure, he did come down hard on criminals. In his view, leniency toward criminals was cruelty to victims. So any case he handled—once confirmed—he dealt with severely. And yes, he was a picky eater, often without much appetite. But he only gave the orders—he never actually went to watch any punishments, much less had some weird hobby of watching torture during meals!

What kind of psycho would have that kind of hobby?!

Zhu Er had a complicated expression and hesitated, “I also heard…”

Because she had been kicked out of the mansion for over a year, unlike the others stuck inside the courtyard, she’d heard a lot more colorful gossip outside.

Word was that His Highness the Crown Prince was also terrifying in bed. He had some… unspeakable tastes. At fifteen, when he first took a palace maid to bed, he apparently had two at once. The two of them were carried out of the Eastern Palace the next morning—literally done to death!

So scary!

Their gongzi was already so frail, barely had any flesh on him—how could he possibly survive serving that kind of Crown Prince?! But glancing at this room full of unmarried girls and young lads, she knew it wasn’t appropriate to talk about such raunchy stuff too bluntly. So she vaguely said, “I heard the Crown Prince is very violent in bed, so whenever the Siqin Bureau holds a selection for palace companions, all the girls and boys are scared out of their minds, terrified of being chosen to serve him. Whenever there’s a rumor about a new selection, matchmakers go wild with business…”

All the maids and servants gasped, covering their mouths and blushing like mad.

Li Xun: “……………”

Where the hell were these rumors even coming from……………

He hadn’t even had sex before, let alone violently!

Li Xun glanced at Shen Qian—and was even more depressed to see Shen Qian looking completely gobsmacked, clearly believing every word. “My god, that’s some hardcore stuff. Did ancient times already have S&M?”

Zhan Er, blushing, pinched him. “What kind of talk is that for a young master’s house!”

Then she tried to comfort Li Xun, “Good thing our Boye is such a scumbag, no way they’d pick our gongzi. If he ends up being a study companion, just keep a low profile and don’t let the Crown Prince see his face.”

Their gongzi was, after all, very good-looking.

The whole group started chiming in, voices overlapping, for once grateful that Fuchang Bo’s outrageous behavior might finally come in handy. There’s no way the Crown Prince would want such a man as a father-in-law, not even for a side consort.

Strangely enough, that actually gave them some peace of mind.

Li Xun was already numb from the flood of information, lying back on the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling. But after a while, something started to feel off.

Yeah, sure, he was bad-tempered, and yeah, politics was exhausting. Some ministers—he didn’t even know how they passed the civil service exam—were downright stupid and gave him endless headaches. So yeah, he got a little heated.

To outsiders who didn’t know the whole story and were intimidated by his status as Crown Prince, it was easy to paint him as some terrifying tyrant. So the “violent” rumors could make sense.

But… stuff about his sex life? How did that get out?!

When he was fifteen… Li Xun scratched his head. He had never even touched a palace maid.

But yeah, something did happen back then. That was when his father had given him his crown early and conferred on him the courtesy name Mingquan, officially starting his involvement in court affairs. He had just moved into the Eastern Palace. Guifei had the Siqin Bureau choose two palace maids for him to sleep with.

That was standard palace protocol—once a royal son came of age, he was supposed to learn bedroom skills from palace women. Fifteen was already considered late—some princes started at thirteen or fourteen.

Li Xun didn’t refuse, but the first maid sent over that night was so timid—actually gagging with fear. That definitely ruined the mood. He wondered, what kind of idiot sent someone this skittish? Weren’t they afraid he’d punish them? But he lost all interest and just kicked her out.

Then, not long after, the Siqin Bureau sent over a young man. This one knelt trembling at the door like he was having a seizure. Li Xun kicked him out too.

Okay, yes, it was two people in one night, but he never touched either of them. So how the hell did the story become “he slept with both and they died”?!

Even the noble households’ back courtyards—maids who never stepped outside—knew about this?!

Something didn’t add up.

And more importantly… ever since he transmigrated into the body of Fuchang Bo’s eldest son, he realized—he’d actually mellowed out a lot.

Back in his original life, there was no way he’d have had the patience to sit around listening to palace maids gossip. And what was more… Li Xun glanced at Shen Qian again… when did he ever bother coaxing a servant?

Normally, he’d have found all the chattering unbearable and told them all to shut up. And not just Xiao Die—he’d been unexpectedly patient with even Zhan Er and Xiao Wan lately.

Sure, maybe it was partly because of the body-swap and a new environment, but still… it felt weird.

Face dark as thunderclouds, he finally cut the conversation short. “Rumors aren’t to be trusted. None of us have ever met the Crown Prince, let alone spent time with him. How can we judge someone solely based on gossip? I believe His Majesty is wise—even if he loves the Crown Prince dearly, there’s no way he’d let him behave like that unchecked.”

The maids all nodded in agreement. Honestly, they were unlikely to ever meet the Crown Prince anyway. They just listened for fun and never bothered verifying anything—it had nothing to do with them.

But Shen Qian added, “Exactly. It’s like that story about the little horse crossing the river. Everyone has a different situation, a different perspective. The squirrel and the old ox weren’t lying, but their experiences didn’t match the little horse’s. From people like Zhao Pozi, Liu Wang’er, and Liu Yiniang’s point of view, we’re the villains.”

He had a thought—if the Crown Prince was cracking down on corrupt officials, then of course the others would feel threatened and start spreading slander.

After all, in this era, it was rare to find an official who wasn’t corrupt. Some hadn’t even started their careers yet—just passed the juren exam—and they were already raking in bribes. Wouldn’t they be terrified the Crown Prince’s heavy hand might come for them next?

Xiao Wan piped up, curious, “What little horse crossing the river? What squirrel and ox?”

Shen Qian blinked. All the other maids, even Li Xun, were looking at him in curiosity.

“Oh, that’s a story I overheard last time I went outside—an old grandma telling it to her grandson,” he replied casually, and then told them the tale.

He only summarized it briefly—not even close to a dramatic storytelling—but Xiao Wan and the others listened with rapt attention and even commented, “Not as vivid as the storyteller last time, but still kinda interesting!”

“Not just interesting—it’s actually kinda profound.” Li Xun looked at Shen Qian with a thoughtful expression. “For an old woman to be able to tell such a story, that’s pretty impressive.”

Shen Qian couldn’t help but sigh. Entertainment in this world was seriously lacking—especially anything cultural or thought-provoking. The fact that such a plain and stiff little fable from his childhood could earn so much praise from these ancient folks gave him a bit of confidence. He turned to Xiao Wan and said, “That storyteller last time? What the heck was he even talking about? That story was totally wrong.”

Xiao Wan and the others stared wide-eyed—what? That beautifully told story, and Xiao Die just dismissed it as “what the heck”? “Then what is the real version?”

That day’s storyteller had told the tale of The Legend of the White Snake, but it was the ancient version—very different from the modern retellings people were familiar with. For starters, in that old version, the white snake had no past-life karmic bond with the scholar, and she wasn’t some kindhearted good demon either. Her family’s pharmacy business was failing, so she poisoned the town’s well—and that’s how her identity as a demon was exposed.

The scholar, terrified when he found out she was a demon, rushed up to Jinshan Temple to beg the monks for help. After the flood of Jinshan, the white snake was seriously injured by the monks, yet still clung to the scholar like she was madly in love. In the end, the scholar beat her to death with a willow branch.

Beat her to death…

Shen Qian had heard this version before, and he remembered how hard it was to accept the first time. What baffled him even more was that people like Zhan Er had actually wept during that performance—eyes full of tears.

Like… from any angle, how was that story tear-worthy?

Now, since Xiao Wan and the others were crowding around him for more, Shen Qian decided to tell them the modern, drama-adapted version of The Legend of the White Snake. From the shepherd boy saving the snake, to meeting again at the Broken Bridge, borrowing the umbrella at West Lake… This time, he dropped the stiff tone and told it vividly, with all the flair and emotion.

Sure enough, the room full of little maids was completely enchanted.

But just as he got halfway through the West Lake umbrella scene, a little servant suddenly burst in to report, “Gongzi, the bookkeepers over at Quzhu Courtyard say the ledgers are all done. They’re nervous and didn’t dare decide on their own, so they’re asking if you could go take a look.”

Shen Qian stopped right there. “Alright, if you want to know what happens next—stay tuned for the next episode.”

A chorus of groans filled the room. Xiao Wan even tugged at his sleeve, whining, “They’re looking for you, not our gongzi. What’s it got to do with you? Just stay and—”

She cut herself off instantly, silenced by Li Xun’s death-glare.

Shen Qian gave a sly smile. “What’s the rush? I’m not going anywhere. I’ll tell a little bit every day, let you guys enjoy the thrill of waiting for updates.”

Xiao Wan and the others didn’t understand what “updates” meant, but since Shen Qian obviously wasn’t going to continue, they could only sigh in disappointment.

Li Xun, now fully dressed, was already heading out when he paused. “Where’s Boye? Go ask Boye to come too.”

—

Shen Yi’an was currently with Liu Yufu. That day, he’d taken Liu Mama’s advice to heart—made sense to him. He was worried that if Liu Yufu kept getting scared and upset, she might fall ill for real. So he had the four maids sent by Zhou Mama removed for now and also allowed Bi Tao to leave the courtyard, though she still wasn’t allowed beyond the second gate.

Liu Yufu knew that things had already reached a delicate balance, so she didn’t dare push for more. The two had slowly started getting along again. At the moment, they were eating together with Shen Chun and Shen Song.

Shen Song was only ten, and since he was already attending school, he usually lived in the outer courtyard. He hadn’t had much contact with Li Xun or Shen Qian. But lately, he’d been in a really bad mood too: his head maid, Yang Mei, had been taken by Li Xun and dunked into a pond like a tea bag. She wasn’t allowed any medical care afterward and was now gravely ill, practically on her deathbed.

Before he could even finish grieving, his study companion Liu Quan disappeared too—and when he asked around, it turned out he had also been detained by Li Xun.

Now, Shen Song was angrily pestering Shen Yi’an to get Liu Quan back. Liu Quan was the son of Liu Wang’er and Liu Saozi.

Shen Yi’an hesitated but finally agreed. “Alright. I’ll send someone to speak with your older brother later.”

In the end, it was Liu Wang’er and his wife who were greedy. Liu Quan was just a kid—what could he possibly know?

But Shen Song was fuming. “He’s not my brother. He’s a bad guy. He’s trying to hurt me, hurt my mother—he takes away or kills everyone around me, and that’s the only thing that makes him happy!”

Shen Yi’an frowned and looked toward Liu Yufu, but she kept her head down, stirring her porridge without saying a word—neither looking up nor stopping Shen Song from talking.

That made Shen Yi’an frown even deeper. “Where did you hear that kind of nonsense? Those people around you were problematic. Are two servants more important than your own brother? What’s he ever done to hurt you?”

The fact that Shen Song wouldn’t inherit the title had been decreed by His Majesty—how could he complain about that? “Don’t say stuff like this again.”

But Shen Song wasn’t about to back down. Before he could blow up again, noise came from outside—followed by a loud voice shouting, “The eldest young master asked me to deliver a message to the Boye!”

Shen Yi’an was stunned and got up to head outside. Liu Yufu’s expression changed, and she hurried to stop him—but it was too late.

Whenever she was with Shen Yi’an, she always kept a tight grip on him. If anyone wanted to see him, they had to report to her first and get her approval before being allowed in. That system had worked smoothly until now—very convenient for her. But now, someone from Ganlin Courtyard dared to just shout outside like that?

Of course. People from Ganlin Courtyard had always been loud. How else would they have attracted the attention of the Censorate?

Liu Yufu bit her lip in fury. These servants must’ve gotten too comfortable—now they weren’t even afraid of her anymore! But there was nothing she could do. She had no choice but to follow Shen Yi’an out.

By the time Shen Yi’an stepped into the front hall, he saw a round-faced servant boy locked in a fierce argument with Bi Tao and two of Liu Yufu’s favored maids. If he had come a moment later, they might’ve actually started fighting.

“What’s going on here?” Shen Yi’an’s head throbbed just looking at the mess. Bi Tao was no good, and no one in Ganlin Courtyard was easy to deal with.

The boy was indeed from Shen Qian’s side, and behind him were two second-rank servants from Ganlin Courtyard. They were all staring down Bi Tao and the others. The boy gave Shen Yi’an a cheeky smile and said:

“No wonder our gongzi only got to see Boye twice a year—turns out there’s a whole gauntlet of checkpoints just to get to you. Harder than a commoner getting into a government office. At least in the yamen you just have to deal with clerks—who knows what rank these roadblocks of yours are? I wonder how many of the letters or gifts our gongzi sent actually made it to you?”

Shen Yi’an had never paid much attention to his eldest son, but those words made something click in his mind. He remembered that Zhou Mama had once sent four maids into the mansion. They had mentioned in passing that Zhou Mama would make extra clothing every year. Anything she made for her own son or grandson, she’d make for Shen Yi’an too and send it over.

But he had never seen any of it.

He hadn’t really cared when he heard about it before—but now, those memories were starting to itch. His gaze turned suspiciously toward Bi Tao.

Liu Yufu’s heart skipped a beat. She snapped, “You servant! Where are your manners? Your master is inside eating and talking—what’s the rush? Can’t you wait a little? Since when does a master have to accommodate your schedule?”

“But it’s our gongzi who sent a message to Boye, not a servant asking to see him for themselves,” Shen Qian replied. “And besides, whether Boye wants to see someone or not should be his decision. What, are Meixiang and her crew the ones running things now?”

That last part—“they’re all just servants”—was a pointed jab. Whether he meant Bi Tao or Liu Yufu, it hit home.

Liu Yufu exploded, furious. “You insolent dog! You dare talk back to me?!”

Shen Yi’an was getting a massive headache from all the yelling. “Enough! All of you, shut up!” His eldest son was getting more sharp-tongued by the day, and the attendants around him weren’t any better!

He glared at Shen Qian. “If he has something to say, then hurry up and say it!”

But Shen Qian didn’t speak. He just glanced at Liu Yufu, Bi Tao, and the others.

Shen Yi’an grew impatient. “There are no outsiders here—speak!”

Still, Shen Qian kept his mouth shut.

Shen Yi’an was getting seriously annoyed, but after running into Li Xun’s hard edge a few times, his instincts for self-preservation kicked in. He wasn’t willing to cause any more trouble and subconsciously leaned toward stepping back where he could. So he turned to Liu Yufu and said, “You go back inside.”

Liu Yufu stared at him in disbelief. “An Lang?”

But Shen Yi’an didn’t soften this time. He waved her off impatiently. “Go, now!”

Saying that, he took a couple of steps outside, clearly intending to speak to Shen Qian in private.

Liu Yufu bit her lip in frustration and turned to go back into the room. But Shen Yi’an didn’t come back for a long while. When she asked the servant at the door, he replied, “Boye listened to the message from Di’e ge’er from Ganlin Courtyard, then left with him.”

Liu Yufu sank into her chair in a daze. She could feel the entire household slipping out of her grasp, and now even information wasn’t flowing to her. That little Di’e was clearly on guard against her—and Shen Yi’an was letting it happen. That made her feel more panicked than ever. She could no longer get in touch with Liu Mama either. Despair settled deep in her heart.

Bi Tao also paced the room anxiously, then suddenly had a brainwave. “Yinainai, do you remember? A few days ago Boye ran into Liu Mama—maybe Liu Mama said something to him, and that’s why those four maids were removed. Liu Mama’s definitely still working on your behalf.”

Liu Yufu said sadly, “Mama may have a thousand plans, but what’s the point if we can’t even leave the manor? How would we know anything?”

Bi Tao thought for a moment, then went and found the two boxes of pastries that Shen Yi’an had brought back that day.

—

Meanwhile, Shen Yi’an followed Shen Qian to Quzhu Courtyard, where Li Xun was already waiting outside.

“Wow, getting Boye to come over is harder than summoning a deity,” Li Xun said with a sarcastic smile. He had been waiting outside for quite a while, deliberately not going in to avoid suspicion.

Shen Qian quickly added, “We went over first thing this morning, but Bi Tao from Liu Yiniang’s side blocked us and wouldn’t even pass the message. If I hadn’t shouted at the gate, we wouldn’t have seen Boye at all.”

Shen Yi’an felt embarrassed and snapped, “You shut up!”

But Li Xun pretended not to hear him and turned to Shen Qian, continuing smoothly, “Oh, I see. That makes a lot of sense. When I fell into the water that day, the city wasn’t even sealed yet. We sent people to Yuxiang Tower to beg Boye to call a taiyi, but Liu Yiniang’s people blocked it. My life couldn’t even get past her cronies—what is there to be afraid of anymore?”

Zhan Er chimed in brightly, “Gongzi is absolutely right. With Zhou Mama, Mei Yiniang, and Ming Yiniang—all of them might as well not exist. If Liu Yiniang’s people say no, no one sees Boye.”

The way this master and servant tag-teamed their speech, it was like they had rehearsed it. They didn’t even acknowledge Shen Yi’an’s presence as they delivered their one-two verbal punch.

Shen Yi’an: “……”

He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. Then opened it again, only to close it once more. In the end, he had nothing left in him and sighed. “Enough, let’s go inside.”

—

In the inner room of Quzhu Courtyard, the six bookkeepers hadn’t stepped outside in over seven or eight days. Each day, food had been brought to their door by one of Shen Yi’an’s personal servants.

All six of them were skilled with numbers. They’d originally assumed that going through five years’ worth of records would take at least a month. But once they started digging, they found so many missing entries that there wasn’t even much to calculate—they just circled the blank spots and organized the rest.

Even so, as they worked, their anxiety only grew. Finally, today they finished the tally and immediately sent for Li Xun. The effort had been led by bookkeepers from both the Hua and Sheng Guogong households.

Now, seeing that both Li Xun and Shen Yi’an were present, they nervously laid the account books before them. “…A lot of the records are missing. It’s not that they were stolen or lost—whoever was supposed to record them never did. Just left them blank.”

Shen Yi’an fell silent, remembering Liu Yufu’s house management “skills.”

“But even with that, after comparing various documents, we were able to calculate that in these five years, the Bo Manor has lost… over 200,000 taels.”

One of the Bo household’s own accountants said this with a trembling voice. “Boye, please look here—huge sums of money were spent, yet there’s no note of what they were used for. And here—two pages are completely blank, and when the entries resume, we’re suddenly 50,000 taels short…”

Shen Yi’an’s headache intensified.

A Hua household bookkeeper then brought out another ledger. “Also, in the first three years, the manors and shops were still generating income. But in the last two years… aside from rental properties in the capital, there’s been no income. Some shopkeepers reported inventory shortages—couldn’t even pay their staff. And the manors meant to supply them, all located in Huainan, haven’t reported anything in two years. Only the manor near the capital is still supplying firewood, grains, and vegetables—that’s the only revenue left.”

Those manors in Huainan had been part of his grandmother Cheng Shi’s dowry.

Li Xun sipped his tea, completely unsurprised. “I told Boye from the start—this accounting had to be done, otherwise I wouldn’t be surprised if people tried to pin the blame on me.”

Shen Yi’an, brow furrowed, flipped through the damaged ledgers again and again. Then something clicked in his mind, and he asked Li Xun, “You seized a few stewards earlier—how much silver did you recover?”

Li Xun’s hand paused on his teacup. “Converted silver—107,400 taels.”

Shen Yi’an actually let out a sigh of relief. “That’s just the silver you recovered. Those disloyal servants must’ve wasted a good deal as well… That about adds up.”

Yufu… must have just been bad at managing things. Clueless. Tricked by the servants…

Yes, that had to be it…

200,000 taels was a lot, but the Fuchang Bo household had a deep foundation. With good management, they could recover that in a year or two. And look—didn’t they just recoup a good portion from those seizures?

Shen Yi’an’s chest heaved as he desperately tried to console himself.

Li Xun didn’t even know what to say anymore. That was only half the hole. Over these five years, the household should’ve brought in more income too. If they were expecting 100,000 taels a year, they were missing a full 700,000 taels!

And Shen Yi’an could still stare reality in the face and claim it “basically balanced out.” Just what kind of spell had Liu Yufu cast on him?

Sure, she was pretty—but not otherworldly. There were girls in the manor like Zhan Er and Zhu Er whose looks could rival hers. Even the not-so-pretty Xiao Die, standing nearby—if you judged by appearance alone, that was too shallow. A good match needed a good temper, compatible personality—that’s what really mattered.

But just as Li Xun was about to speak, the two bookkeepers that Shen Yi’an had hired spoke up again, their faces ashen. “Boye, that’s just the small issue. While reviewing things… we discovered that the land deeds for several Huainan manors from the old matriarch’s dowry—are gone!”

Clack! The ledger in Shen Yi’an’s hand fell to the floor, and he nearly collapsed right then and there.