**Imperial Medical Institute—**
Physician Zhou had anticipated Qin Lu's visit since hearing of his palace entry.
Yet as noon approached without sight of the prince—
Doubt crept in.
Then—
A junior eunuch scurried in:
"Physician Zhou! Prince Li summons you!"
"Understood."
Without hesitation, Zhou retrieved a lacquered box from his medicine chest—
Following the eunuch out before colleagues could react.
The moment Zhou departed—
Fellow physicians clustered like startled sparrows:
"Why does Prince Li always summon Zhou?"
"His favor must soar! A meteoric rise awaits!"
"Nonsense! Prince Li's favor burns hotter than fever rash!"
"What's the purpose this time? He took a box..."
"Like last time? Surely he knew in advance!"
"Did Prince Li... harm the Princess Consort again?"
"Ninety percent likely!"
"But rumors claim he dotes on his consort! Didn't he indulge that gambling hall scheme?"
"Rumors are wind! That wasn't indulgence—it was 1.2 million taels! Even His Majesty's eyes gleamed at that sum..."
"True enough. Pity the Princess Consort..."
"And poor Zhou—caught between them!"
"Indeed!"
Had Physician Zhou heard these speculations—
He'd have laughed outright.
No victim here—
No tragic entanglement.
Quite the opposite:
Prince Li's devotion was very real.
(Why else demand another batch of medicinal jade so soon?)
The so-called "jade" was more ointment than gem—
A salve absorbed completely after each... application.
Last time's unannounced visit had depleted Zhou's private stock (originally meant for a friend).
Given the prince's... enthusiasm—
Replenishment was inevitable.
Zhou's foresight pleased Qin Lu:
The box changed hands without a word spoken.
Yet the medicinal jade wasn't Qin Lu's sole purpose today.
"Physician Zhou."
"Your Highness." Zhou bowed deeper.
"The Princess Consort shows no illness, yet seems frailer than most. With winter approaching, he feels the cold more acutely. Are there...regimens to strengthen him?"
Despite his earlier deductions about their relationship—
Zhou still marveled at the depth of Qin Lu's attentiveness.
(Who'd believe the Battlefield Reaper fretted over chill sensitivity?)
But medical advice required caution:
"This humble official would need to examine the Princess Consort—or at least review his pulse records—before prescribing."
"The manor physician checked him two days ago," Qin Lu supplied. "Mild qi deficiency—expected after his recent severe illness. Recommended foundational nourishment."
Zhou nodded. The Prince Li Manor's doctor was no amateur—
Though perhaps more skilled in bone-setting than tonic blends, hence Qin Lu's concern.
Noting the prince's pensive expression, Zhou ventured:
"If Your Highness remains uneasy...perhaps the Princess Consort could train in martial arts?"
"Martial arts?"
An unprecedented suggestion.
"Indeed."
Encouraged by Qin Lu's thoughtful silence, Zhou elaborated:
"Martial practice inherently fortifies the body. Since the Princess Consort's qi deficiency is minor, daily exercise may suffice. Medicine, however beneficial, carries toxicity with prolonged use."
The logic resonated.
Qin Lu's own childhood proved it—
Despite his birth mother's meticulous care, he'd remained slight for his age until martial training under imperial instructors transformed his physique.
Decision crystallized:
Gu Yanshu would learn combat.
Even if Gu Yanshu never became a peerless martial artist capable of defeating ten opponents single-handedly, simply improving his physical constitution would be worthwhile.
Qin Lu's tone softened slightly—a rare occurrence—as he addressed Physician Zhou:
*"This prince understands. Thank you for your counsel."**
He handed Zhou a silk pouch before turning to leave.
Zhou stood frozen, staring at the exquisitely crafted silver ingots inside.
Since when did the "Bloody-Handed Prince" reward subordinates?
(Unbeknownst to him, this habit was wholly borrowed from Gu Yanshu.)
After sharing his study with Gu Yanshu—
Qin Lu had observed his consort's methods closely.
Gu Yanshu governed with military precision:
Clear hierarchiesMeticulous protocolsStrict merit-based Rewards and Punishments
Within days of taking charge, he'd overhauled Prince Li Manor's regulations—
Demanding every servant adhere to his revised code.
Initially, resentment simmered.
Even Xing Ren had cautiously reported the staff's discontent—
Warning of potential unrest.
But Qin Lu had deferred completely: "The Princess Consort decides."
(Privately, he'd discussed it with Gu Yanshu, who assured him: "I have a plan.")
True to his word—
Within weeks, complaints transformed into praise.
Why?
Gu Yanshu's system offered:
Defined responsibilities (no overlapping duties)Increased rest periods (precise shift rotations)Generous bonuses (performance-based rewards)
For Prince Li Manor's already elite staff—
This was a revolutionary upgrade.
Same work. More breaks. Higher pay.
Who wouldn't cheer?
Witnessing this transformation—
Qin Lu had studied Gu Yanshu's playbook—
Adopting both the regulations and that habit of timely rewards.
Returning to the manor, Qin Lu sought Zhi Ge to discuss Gu Yanshu's martial training.
(While Qin Lu was the superior fighter, Zhi Ge had more teaching experience—regularly drilling army recruits.)
Yet spotting Zhi Ge across the courtyard—
The guard spun on his heel and fled.
No bow. No greeting.
Just uncharacteristically hurried footsteps.
"What's wrong with Zhi Ge?" Qin Lu frowned at Xing Ren.
"Unknown," Xing Ren admitted. "But after Your Highness departed this morning, the Princess Consort summoned him. He's been... skittish since."
"Ah."
Of course.
Gu Yanshu's fingerprints were all over this.
Rather than chase Zhi Ge—
Qin Lu strode toward the study.
(Interrogating the architect would be faster than cornering the pawn.)
**Qin Lu entered the study to find Gu Yanshu bent over parchment—**
Whether alerted by footsteps or coincidentally finishing his task—
The moment Qin Lu crossed the threshold, Gu Yanshu set down his brush.
"Your Highness returns."
"Mn." Qin Lu nodded. "His Majesty adored the glass lamp covers. Noble Consort Hui was so taken with the tea set, she gifted replicas to the entire inner court."
"Their satisfaction pleases me." Gu Yanshu's response was smooth—
Until his gaze snagged on the familiar lacquered box in Qin Lu's hand.
"This is...?"
"A visit to the Imperial Medical Institute."
Those three words explained everything.
Though the medicinal jade had worked wonders on Gu Yanshu's endurance—
He cringed imagining Physician Zhou's assumptions.
(How could I face those old men again after this?)
Before embarrassment could take root—
Qin Lu continued:
"Physician Zhou specializes in restorative care. After consulting him about your constitution...his recommendation was martial training. Would the Princess Consort consent?"
"Martial training?"
All thoughts of physicians' gossip evaporated.
Gu Yanshu's eyes lit with the fervor of boyhood dreams:
"Could I truly become that skilled? Leaping rooftops? Moving like the wind?"
Every boy once fantasized about soaring above mortals—
Every man secretly yearned for sword-lit heroics.
For Gu Yanshu—
Who'd survived an apocalypse where power alone dictated survival—
The longing ran deeper.
He'd envied elementalists hurling firestorms—
Coveted spatial masters folding reality—
Initially, even a brute-strength mutation would've sufficed.
(Just to stand unaided during a zombie tide.)
But when he learned awakened abilities favored the physically robust—
Hope died.
His wasted lungs and brittle bones barred that path.
So he'd turned ambition elsewhere—
Building an empire of steel and gold instead.
(Wealth bought loyalty from those blessed with power.)
Now—
Qin Lu offered a second chance at strength.
For ten apocalyptic years, Gu Yanshu's name commanded awe—**
Yet none knew his secret regret:
Never awakening an ability.
Though this sting had dulled in Tianqi's healthy body—
Watching Gu Yanli's martial prowess or Qin Lu's effortless roof-leaping—
That old envy flickered.
But both men had trained since childhood.
The original "Young Master Gu's" memories confirmed it—
Fragments showed Gu Yanli's boyhood drills:
Dawn starts. Bloodied knuckles. Relentless repetition.
The pampered young master had initially shown interest—
Until his concubine-mother's warnings:
"Brutal hours. Broken bones. No luxury."
Then came the defining image—
Gu Yanli limping home after sparring, face mottled with bruises.
The boy's resolve shattered.
He'd not only abandoned training—
But physically barred his brother from teaching him.
Thus—no foundational skills.
No robust physique.
Just mediocre endurance.
Accepting this, Gu Yanshu had dismissed martial arts entirely—
(This body, though average, still surpassed his terminally ill past self.)
Now—
Qin Lu's proposal reignited long-abandoned embers.
The Hard Truth
"Reaching my level...is improbable."
Qin Lu hated crushing that hopeful gleam—
But honesty was kinder than false promises.
Age mattered.
Talent mattered more.
Even among lifelong practitioners, few attained Qin Lu's mastery.
Gu Yanshu's brightness dimmed visibly—
A sight Qin Lu couldn't bear:
"But light-footed agility? Achievable with dedication."
True—basic qinggong required more technique than inner energy.
Yet to Gu Yanshu, who'd mythologized the skill—
It sounded like empty consolation.
"Truly?"
"Have I ever deceived you?" Qin Lu arched a brow.
"Fair point."
Hope rekindled, Gu Yanshu vibrated with impatience:
"When do we start?"
"Dawn tomorrow," Qin Lu decided. "Post-court session. Come fasting."
(Late starters needed every advantage.)
Qin Lu's personal regimen demanded predawn drills—**
(Yin hour, when night clung thickest and frost bit deepest.)
But Gu Yanshu's civilian habits made that unthinkably cruel.
(Risking frostbite for fitness? Counterproductive.)
Thus—the compromise:
"As Your Highness advises."
Gu Yanshu recognized the unspoken accommodation—
His smile warmed further.
That obedient glow stirred Qin Lu's affection—
And reminded him of Zhi Ge's earlier flight:
"Speaking of secrets...why did Zhi Ge flee from me today?"
The teasing lilt confirmed he already guessed the answer.
Gu Yanshu played along:
"I assigned him a confidential task. Perhaps he feared Your Highness's interrogation."
"Oh?" Qin Lu's voice dropped to a velvet purr. "What secrets does my consort hide?"
Even months into marriage, that tone could short-circuit Gu Yanshu's resolve.
(Almost.)
"Patience, Your Highness. All reveals in time."
Qin Lu chuckled but didn't press—
Until Gu Yanshu pivoted abruptly:
"I've a request requiring Your Highness's approval."
The shift to formality sharpened Qin Lu's focus.
"Proceed."
"I wish to renovate the main courtyard."
Gu Yanshu lifted the architectural sketches he'd been drafting—
(Two days' meticulous work.)
Tianqi's living standards frustrated him endlessly—
Especially housing.
Though Prince Li Manor dwarfed commoners' dwellings—
Its lack of modern amenities grated:
No insulation against creeping draftsNo plumbing beyond chamber potsNo adjustable lighting beyond candles
At Marquis Cheng'en's estate, he'd tolerated it—
(First convalescing, then awaiting marriage.)
In Prince Li Manor, initial caution had restrained him—
But observing Qin Lu's near-total indulgence?
(If not principles, then permitted.)
The teahouse renovations proved local craftsmen could execute his visions—
And Taoran Kiln's latest breakthrough promised the crowning element:
Full-pane glass windows.
No more stuffy darkness.
No more silk-gauze's feeble light-filtering.
Just crystal clarity ushering sunlight indoors.
As Qin Lu studied the sketches, Gu Yanshu leaned in—**
Finger tracing key zones:
"Here—our bedchamber. This quadrant redesigns the washing area for bathing and grooming..."
The master courtyard's sprawling layout allowed strategic compartmentalization—
Gu Yanshu had preserved its bones while modernizing its organs:
Sleeping quarters (positioned for optimal sunlight)Upgraded bathing suite (his priority renovation)Dressing annex (eliminating cluttered chests)
After detailing each innovation, he paused:
"Your Highness's thoughts? Any dissatisfactions?"
Qin Lu's needs were Spartan—
Battlefield years had stripped him of domestic fastidiousness.
(A roof. A bed. That sufficed.)
Yet holding these meticulously drafted plans—
Hearing Gu Yanshu's quiet passion for steam-heated baths and sunlit reading nooks—
Something unfamiliar stirred:
Anticipation.
"I defer to the Princess Consort's expertise. These designs are... impeccable."
Gu Yanshu's chuckle held playful warning:
"Total authority? Then no complaints later—I shan't entertain them."
"None will come." Qin Lu's smile was small but certain. "Your touch improves everything."
From another, such words might ring hollow—
But Qin Lu's grave sincerity transformed them into a vow.
Approval secured, Gu Yanshu mobilized immediately—
Beginning with evacuating the master courtyard.
Here, the long-vacant Chengying Court finally served its purpose.
Upon entering, Gu Yanshu's first observation was dry:
"This courtyard is... remarkably distant from the main residence."
"Indeed—the farthest in Prince Li Manor," Xing Ren answered absently, supervising furniture transfers.
(Then froze—realizing his blunder.)
Gu Yanshu had requested "maximum distance from renovation noise"—
And Xing Ren, recalling Chengying Court's recent refurbishment (originally meant to house an estranged consort)—
Had offered it reflexively.
Now, facing Gu Yanshu's arched brow, he stammered:
"Y-yes...?"
(First time in decades someone besides Qin Lu made him sweat.)
The courtyard's isolation wasn't accidental—
Its back gate led directly to a side exit.
(Qin Lu's initial plan: mutual avoidance made convenient.)
Just as panic set in—
Salvation came:
"Xing Ren merely executed my orders." Qin Lu's voice cut through the tension. "Spare him your interrogation, Princess Consort."
The steward bowed hastily—
Fleeing as the newlyweds' banter pursued him:
"If not Xing Ren, shall I interrogate you instead?"
"If the Princess Consort insists..."
"I know that tone! I'd be the one 'interrogated' by night's end!"
"Slanderous accusations—when have I ever..."
Though the words faded with distance—
Their playful undertones conveyed everything.
At that moment, Xing Ren finally understood Fifth Prince Qin Hao's bewildered expression after exiting the study days prior.
(Who could withstand such shameless marital harmony?)
Meanwhile, Gu Yanshu surveyed Chengying Court—
Its decor, admittedly, surpassed the main courtyard's in ornate delicacy.
(Xing Ren had clearly spared no expense.)
Yet no auxiliary courtyard could rival the symbolic weight of the master residence.
Qin Lu, ever perceptive, noted the fleeting wistfulness—
And broke precedent:
"This prince erred in presuming separation was necessary."
"Not Your Highness's fault," Gu Yanshu countered.
Had he not insisted on this marriage despite warnings?
The original arrangement had been prudent contingency planning.
"Besides—" He gestured at their shared luggage. "You're here now."
A master courtyard's primacy came from its lord's presence.
By relocating with Gu Yanshu, Qin Lu had redefined centrality.
The unspoken acceptance soothed Qin Lu's residual guilt:
"Henceforth, we share every courtyard."
Gu Yanshu's pause was brief—
Then came a sunrise smile:
"Agreed."
Prince Li Manor's staff worked with military precision—
Within two hours, the transfer was complete.
Watching servants organize Chengying Court, Gu Yanshu remembered tomorrow's demolition:
"Your Highness."
"Mn?" Qin Lu glanced up from a ledger.
"The main courtyard harbors no... sensitive structures, does it?"
"Pardon?"
"Hidden chambers. Dungeons." Gu Yanshu's lips quirked. "It'd be awkward if workers accidentally unearthed them."
Qin Lu's laugh was startled but warm:
"No such concerns exist."
(A half-truth.)
The manor did contain interrogation cells and secure vaults—
But their depth and concealment defied casual discovery.
Gu Yanshu, however, caught the evasion:
"So there are some?"
"Indeed." Qin Lu offered, unexpectedly eager: "Shall I give you a tour?"
"Pass."
Post-apocalyptic life had shown him enough human-made hells to last eternity.
(No curiosity for Tianqi's versions.)
Reading genuine disinterest, Qin Lu conceded gracefully:
"Should that change, Xing Ren or Zhi Ge can escort you."
*"Mn."**
With assurances that no renovations would trigger security breaches—
Gu Yanshu's blueprints were cleared for execution.
The next dawn brought demolition crews—**
Doors. Windows. Non-load-bearing walls.
All marked for removal.
Even barely-used furnishings were hauled away—
Creating a spectacle even commoners gossiped about within days.
("Prince Li Manor's tossing out sandalwood cabinets like rotten cabbages!")
Teahouse Gossip
A block from Prince Li Manor, teahouses buzzed:
"Heard about the Prince's renovations?"
"Who hasn't? Their trash piles could furnish ten households!"
"They say the Princess Consort demanded it—claimed the rooms 'choked his spirit.'"
"And Prince Li allowed this?"
"What choice had he? That consort's the type who'd dismantle heaven if inconvenienced!"
"Such waste! Those carved rosewood lattices weren't even weathered!"
"At this rate, he'll bankrupt Prince Li Manor by autumn!"
"Unlikely—his dowry could buy three counties. Plus the ChangLe Den winnings..."
"Still! No fortune withstands such profligacy! If Prince Li indulges him now, imagine later—"
"Mark my words: that beauty's leading our War God to ruin."
"A classic tale—heroes felled by pretty faces."
(Had Gu Yanshu heard these whispers, he'd have laughed outright.)
The Reality Behind Chaos
Gu Yanshu operated on military-grade schedules—
(Without such precision, even cloning himself wouldn't suffice.)
Priorities stacked relentlessly:
Script Approvals—The manor's storytellers delivered draft commentaries daily.Business Overhauls—Two teahouses and Taoran Pavilion awaited redesign sign-offs.Renovation Supervision—Ensuring craftsmen translated sketches into reality.Movable Type Milestone—Qin Lu's team reported 90% completion on character molds.
The newspaper project—the very reason he'd invented printing—
Hadn't even progressed to staff recruitment.
(So much for efficient time management.)