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Chapter Text

When Zhang Hao wakes up, it’s in a garden, of all places. 

He spends a few groggy moments wondering if he’s fallen asleep on the set of filming for their debut music video before realising it’s unusually quiet . He can’t hear the din of staff rushing around perfecting their makeup, or cameramen telling the members to turn this way and that, or his members trying not to giggle as they watch him preen– Wait.

As a matter of fact, he doesn’t see his members. As another matter of fact, he doesn’t see anyone . Or the bright lights of the cameras. Or that one omnipresent sasaeng on a tree, though he supposes that’s a good thing.

Something isn’t right. Hao’s definitely not on the set of their music video filming, no, but he certainly doesn’t remember sleeping in a garden either. Everyone knows Zhang Hao hates the sun. (And grass. And insects.)

Off in the distance, someone shouts at someone else to get dinner ready.

Zhang Hao’s brain registers this without any issues, thinks that yes , it would like some food right about now, and then it promptly hits him that the person hadn’t been speaking in the Korean he was getting so used to, but instead the more familiar tones of his mother tongue.

Fuck.

He rolls over and comes two centimetres away from making intimate contact with the koi in the fish pond. 

The sleepiness receding, Hao quickly examines his surroundings: tree. Pond. Flowers. A gong ringing in the background. The red roofs of oriental-style Chinese buildings. The growling of his hungry stomach.

He sits up, looking at his reflection in the clear waters of the koi pond. A familiar face looks back at him (thank God , because Zhang Hao is very proud of his face, and with good reason), framed by… long hair tied into a high ponytail.

Hao looks down, wordlessly taking in the green robes that hung from his frame. 

Zhang Hao thinks he has a very good idea of what has just happened to him. Fuckity fuck , he didn’t die and isekai into ancient China, did he? Bloody hell, he was only two weeks away from debut!

It’s not like he did anything special or weird before falling asleep the day before either, no, just practise for fifteen hours and go to sleep like he did every day. He didn’t fight with any of his members, or staff, or kiss anyone, or suddenly die of a heart attack–

Right, calm down, Hao tells himself , you weren’t even half this anxious when Yujin and Gyuvin burned their mattress to ashes, and they burned their mattress to ashes .

Taking a deep breath, he stands, straightens his robes, and heads for the nearest building, determined to discover 1) where, 2) when, and 3) who he is. 

The place is incredibly huge, with servants milling about everywhere once he’s left the koi pond and its surrounding garden. Wherever he is, the owner of this place is richer than God. Zhang Hao sincerely hopes it’s him (after all, you never know what’s going to happen in isekai tropes). 

Unfortunately, given his luck, it probably isn’t, so when a pair of guards (armed! With very pointy, very sharp, very real swords!) round the corner, he ducks behind a wall and trips on the hem of his robes. Fuck! Fuck it all! It’s not his fault that he’s not used to walking in this long fucking outfit!

“Who’s that! Show yourself!” One of the guards whips around and shouts in Hao’s direction, “What are your intentions? Are you an assassin?”

Hao really isn’t an assassin. He can barely manage to cut an apple with his knifework. 

Somehow, he’s watched enough historical dramas to know that the guards are probably not going to believe him, but are probably going to arrest him and either kill him or sell him to a rich merchant (because he’s so ethereally beautiful, of course), so he stays hidden.

The guards’ footsteps grow closer.

Zhang Hao really does not fucking want to be sold to a rich merchant.

Right, ancient China. Think, think… Right! The windows, they’re made of– 窗纸 (paper windows)! Turning desperately, Hao searches the wall he’s currently crouched against for a window, praying desperately that what little possibly inaccurate historical drama-based knowledge on ancient China he had served him well.

Oh, fuck yeah. He always knew the Legend of Zhen Huan would serve him well.

Pulling himself up onto the window ledge with much difficulty, he gets ready to punch a hole in the window paper like he’d always seen in movies (it looked cool as fuck! He’s rightly excited!). 

“Went that way,” one of the guards tells the other, “Quickly, don’t let him get to His Highness.”

Startled by the sudden voice, Hao’s only chance to realise his childhood dream of punching a hole in the window is quickly shattered as he loses his balance and falls through the window. Head first.

On his way down, he topples a bottle of ink on the table, which dyes his entire right sleeve black. 

He also makes a really loud clatter (he hits a chair, which then hits the floor), cringing in case one of the guards follows him in, but there’s only silence outside. They’ve… disappeared? Hao didn’t expect that, but he’s not going to complain.

Rising to his feet, he surveys the room yet again, eyes trailing the sheets of paper on the floor (again, wow. The quality of this paper is… the owner of this place is really fucking rich! ). 

“Ahem,” a very familiar voice clears its throat.

Hao whirls around to meet Sung Hanbin’s eyes, his own almost filling with tears as he recalls the inexplicable events of the afternoon. He might’ve suddenly been transported to this strange, strange historical world, and not have been able to find anyone he knew, and gotten chased by armed guards, and fallen through a window, and gotten half his beautiful green robes stained by black ink– but that’s okay! That’s all okay! He’s not alone! He’s found Hanbin, his best friend , his other half , his– oh, everything’s going to be just fine.

“Bin-ah!” Hao throws himself at Hanbin, “Oh, I missed you so much, you have no idea what I just went thro-”

Hanbin slams the bamboo scroll he’s currently reading from into Hao’s face.

“...”

Hao gingerly pokes at the red mark on his cheek, then experimentally asks, “Bin-ah…? Is everything… Oh, sorry, should I speak Korean?”

“ Korean ?” Hanbin furrows his eyebrows, “Um… who are you, and what are you doing in my room?”

“Bin-ah, you don’t recognise me? I’m Hao! Zhang Hao! Your Hao-hyung!” Hao’s mouth falls open, “Your ZB1 teammate!”

“Wait– hyung? ZB1? What are you saying?” Hanbin rises to his feet, slowly, gracefully, “Zhang Hao, was it?”

“...Yes? Should I not be Zhang Hao?” Hao takes a step back, colliding with the chair on the floor and nearly tripping over it.

The furrow between Hanbin’s brows deepens, “Chief Advisor Zhang, do pardon me for not recognising you earlier, but…” His eyes flit between Hao’s ink-covered sleeve and the Hao-shaped hole in his window, “I’m not sure I know the meaning of this… sudden visit.”

“What?”

Hanbin sets his jaw, adopting a slightly more aggressive tone, “Chief Advisor Zhang, what I would like to ask is what exactly you think you are doing, uninvited, in the private quarters of the Crown Prince at an hour before dinner-time. I could have your career for this. Or your head.”

“You’re not…” Hao takes another step back, careful to avoid the chair, “You’re not Sung Hanbin.”

“I am Sung Hanbin, Crown Prince of the Wen Dynasty. You are Zhang Hao, Chief Advisor to the Emperor. And we are in the 30th year of the rule of Emperor Wen Chang.” Hanbin pauses, “My father.”

Hao’s head is spinning. Great. Just great! 

This was Hanbin, yes, but this was a Hanbin of another era, who had a very different sort of relationship with him, and who was definitely not his homie. And he was all alone again. And this Hanbin was probably going to call the guards on him, and oh–

“Please don’t sell me to a rich merchant.” 

The words come out in a rush, and Hanbin’s expression morphs from anger to mild confusion, “Chief Advisor Zhang…”

“No, no, wait. I didn’t mean that. I mean, yes, please don’t sell me to a rich merchant, but I didn’t mean to imply that you would–” Hao cuts his own babbling off, deciding that he needs a quiet spot where he isn’t surrounded by members-turned-strangers and armed guards to sit down, clear his head and think about what he’s supposed to be doing (practising for fucking debut, but as luck would have it…). 

Recalling the Legend of Zhen Huan again, he curtseys and begins, “This one…”

Hanbin’s facial expressions are both extremely diverse and extremely interesting.

Self-consciously, Hao digs deep into his memory bank, coming up with the horrifying realisation that the person he’d seen doing this in the drama had been the emperor’s favourite concubine, and… “Ahem,” he clears his throat, “Allow me to start over. This one apologises for… the events of this afternoon, and asks for Your Highness the Crown Prince’s forgiveness. To be honest, I have no idea why I am here, nor do I want to be here, nor do I have any interest in assassinating you.”

Hanbin raises an eyebrow, “You don’t know why you fell into my room through the window?”

“I lost my balance.”

Ignoring the remark, Hanbin continues, arms crossed, “So you’re telling me that you just appeared in my palace then, without any warning or want to do so?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m telling you,” Hao sighs, “Look, I’m not even Chief Advisor Zhang. I’m just Zhang Hao, I suck at history, I have no fucking idea – wait, that’s not important. My point is, do I look like I can evade all your guards and make my way to your sleeping quarters? Given that I lost my balance outside on the window ledge and fell through the paper?”

Hanbin considers the possibility for a few seconds, “Hm. You do have a point, Chief Advisor Zhang. So tell me, what do you intend to do now?”

“Go the fuck home!” 

“...If you promise to not fall through my window again, that can be arranged,” Hanbin blinks at him, “Now please leave my room.”

“Gladly,” Hao mutters.

Chapter Text

“Chief Advisor, Sir,” one of Hanbin’s guards calls for him, “We have arrived.”

“Many thanks,” Hao murmurs, lifting the curtain of the carriage to take in the vast mansion before him. He bites back a question about the ownership of this house.

“Chief Advisor!” A girl comes running towards him from within the mansion. Zhang Hao really hopes that this is not his fiancee, because he is gay and that would be a rather awkward situation to find himself in. 

She falls to her knees. Great! Not his fiancee, then!

“Chief Advisor, where were you? We were searching for you the whole night– You went into your room and just disappeared, we–” 

Hao gives her a brief look of confusion, an expression that the original owner of this body must not have worn very often, because the… servant girl? completely misinterprets this (although the servants are supposed to be the best at understanding what their masters wanted), ducking her head, “Right, of course, this one apologises, not here…”

“We will take our leave now, Chief Advisor Zhang,” Hanbin’s guard bows.

“Right,” Hao wracks his brain to come up with an appropriate way to respond to this, “Send… my thanks to the Crown Prince?”

The girl behind him clears her throat softly.

Right. Right . “His Highness the Crown Prince,” Hao amends, nodding, “Um… let’s go back in…?”

“Lan Xiang will bring the Chief Advisor to the study,” the girl—Lan Xiang—bows to him again. Hao really needs to get used to all this bowing, which is really weird considering he’s never had anyone kneel before him—or bow to him with such frequency—before, but he supposes his status here isn’t the same as his status in ZB1 , so. 

He’ll get used to this.

Anyway, more importantly… this is his house? It’s definitely not as extravagant or opulent as the palace of the Crown Prince, but goddamn! Before Boys Planet, he could only afford to rent a two-room flat in some remote area of town, but this huge. Fucking. Mansion was in the middle of town (he assumes, based on the scenery on the way here from Hanbin’s place)! He loves Ancient China.

“The study?”

“Your study, Chief Advisor,” Lan Xiang’s features morph into mild confusion, “Is everything alright?”

“Right, yes,” he sighs, “Everything is alright.”

An hour later, he’s rejected all of Lan Xiang’s attempts to dress him and insisted on figuring out the robes himself, then tripped over the hem of his robes into a puddle of mud (he does not fucking love Ancient China!) and Lan Xiang is starting to give him really weird looks. 

“Master, is everything–”

“Yes,” Hao grits out through clenched teeth, “Everything is peachy , thank you.”

“Peachy?” The girl tilts her head, “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Perfect, I said perfect,” Hao rushes out. Considering the situation in the past few hours, Hao really doesn’t think the original owner of this body used to act like this (of course he didn’t, because Hao is a young Chinese lad from the 21st Century and this is not the 21st Century), but if this continues on, he’s going to get arrested as an impersonator (which he is, but still) and then sold to a rich merchant. 

An outcome no one wants, except maybe the rich merchant.

“Lan Xiang, could you please help me collect what people are saying about me? What everyone’s impression of me is? All the good and nasty, I want to hear them all,” Hao smiles at her.

She shrinks back in fear.

Ah, fuck. He shouldn’t have said please, should he? Fuck him and his politesse and his good upbringing.

“And the different political powers at play in the government– nevermind.” Hao doubts that the real Chief Advisor would’ve spent a lot of time talking to his servant girl about politics, so he cuts himself off, “I’ll be off to the study now.”

“Yes, Chief Advisor,” she curtseys and leaves. 

The Chief Advisor had really good taste, actually. Hao spends a few moments admiring the decor in the study before flipping through the letters on the table. Thank God they didn’t use a different writing system here, because it’d be quite difficult to explain why the Chief Advisor is suddenly illiterate. 

Hm… So it seems that he had pretty good relations with his subordinates, one of which he’d taken care of for a few years after saving him from certain death at the hands of a couple of bandits, and who was currently a lower-ranking official in the government… and whose name was Cai Jinxin.

Ah! Cai Jinxin, he knows. Even though after Hanbin’s little stunt this morning, he highly doubts Jinxin will be the same Jinxin as before, but it seems as though the Chief Advisor trusted him very much and so he was probably a safe person to ask regarding politics! Perfect. He’d rather face a familiar face than a stranger too, anyway. 

“Hello?” He calls, and an aide appears immediately. Ooh, forget what he said about having to get used to this. Hao could get used to this. How convenient too, indeed, that this aide’s name was embroidered on his robes. All the servants should do that so Hao can differentiate them.

“Fu Xue, send for Cai Jinxin to come meet me as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Chief Advisor.”

He needs to figure this shit out really urgently; he’d have to go to parliament tomorrow and he really does not want to stick out like a sore thumb because one of the most vocal officials suddenly falls silent and starts daydreaming in front of the Emperor. 

Then he wouldn’t need to worry about the rich merchant anymore, because he’d be dead .

–

Cai Jinxin is welcomed without much fanfare. Hao chases everyone else out of the room and points at a cushion on the floor, “Sit.”

“Hao-ge,” the familiar address nearly brings tears to Hao’s eyes, but Jinxin only narrows his eyes shrewdly, tone a little cold, “You’re acting weird today.”

“I’m not acting weird, Jinxin, I just called you here because I need a refresher on the current state of politics,” Hao averts his eyes carefully as Jinxin’s eyebrows shoot up, the younger boy humming thoughtfully, “I, err, hit my head yesterday and can’t remember the complicated interpersonal relations…”

Internally, he cringes at the horrible reason. He’s not sure his poor acting skills were sufficient to convince Jinxin.

Jinxin snaps his folding fan closed with one hand and taps it gently on the table, “You hit your head yesterday, Hao-ge?”

“Yes,” Hao grits his teeth, “I had a… an interesting experience.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jinxin continues quietly, “And you have suddenly forgotten everything about politics.”

“Yes,” Hao sighs. Fuck, he shouldn’t have picked Jinxin; he’s close to the original Chief Advisor, but he’s too fucking smart—and he’s so close that any anomalies would be obvious. He swallows, looking Jinxin in the eye, only to see him looking back at Hao with thinly-veiled mirth in his eyes.

“Tell me, Chief Advisor Zhang,” Jinxin switches to a more formal title, taking a sip out of his cup of tea, “What did I tell you when we first met?”

“When we first… met?”

The way Jinxin’s smile spreads slowly across his face reminds Hao of a tiger baring its teeth. The amusement in his eyes fades to coldness, a type of cold that the Jinxin he knew back in 2023 could never command. Hao’s body is screaming at him to get up, run out, leave , but no matter how dangerous the Cai Jinxin of this universe is, Hao cannot simply abandon his own study (Jinxin can probably kill him in 1000 different ways). 

“Yes, Chief Advisor Zhang,” Jinxin smiles patiently. Hao shivers. Jinxin licks his lips quickly, a swift flick of his tongue, “You said you’d take me under your wing if I could introduce my specialty to you. What was my answer?”

Oh. He knows this, he knows this… Jinxin filled in this question in Boys Planet in 2023 as well. He really fucking hopes Jinxin hasn’t changed. Hao swallows, dragging his answer out so he has more time to think, “I’m not sure you should be questioning me like this in my own study, Cai- cishi . But if you wish, you said you were good at being positive and mind control.”

Surprise flashes across Jinxin’s face, “Hao-ge, so it really is you. What’s wrong? You actually forgot about politics?”

“I mean, I am your Hao-ge,” Hao sighs, “But I can’t seem to remember anything about anyone. I’ve forgotten everything about life here too, and the only people whose names I can remember are you, H– the Crown Prince, and I’ll only know if there are more people I know when I see them.”

“Oh dear,” Jinxin frowns, “That is rather unfortunate and inconvenient. This, coupled with that little escapade you had in the palace of the Crown Prince… might have some supernatural happenings going on. Did you go to the temple recently or run into any paranormal occur– nevermind, you don’t remember anyway.”

“Thanks, Jinxin,” Hao rolls his eyes, “That makes me feel so much better.”

“You’re welcome,” Jinxin smiles smoothly, “Anyway, don’t you worry about it. You’ve got me to help, and I’ll make sure you don’t get thrown into jail.”

“Right, we’ve got to get me up to speed before parliament tomorrow.”

Jinxin hits himself lightly on the side of his head with his fan, “No, no. Before tonight . We’re meeting His Highness the Fifth Prince, and you’re his most trusted confidante, so, um… there’s quite a lot to cover.”

“His Highness the Fifth Prince? What are we meeting him for?” 

Jinxin looks at him like he’s stupid, “It’s a secret meeting.”

Hao does not glean any information from that sentence, nodding at Jinxin to go on.

Jinxin sighs, muttering something insulting that Hao pretends not to hear, “Look, there’s a Crown Prince, and then all the other princes are having secret meetings with a group of their most trusted officials, so what do you think?”

“Oh. It’s a fight for the throne.” Realisation dawns on Hao, but he’s quickly shushed by Jinxin, who’s looking around cautiously, “The walls have ears.”

“This is my house,” Hao grumbles, affronted.

“Right,” Jinxin straightens up, “Sorry about that.”

“Who’s the Fifth Prince?”

“24 this year, born to Noble Consort Chen, is more inclined to the military aspect of things, and the person that our future careers, success and lives depend on,” Jinxin thinks for a few moments, “If it helps, his name is Chen Jianyu.”

“Oh! I know Jianyu,” Hao nods happily.

“ The Fifth Prince ,” Jinxin emphasises, “Really, it’s almost as if you’ve turned stupid.” 

Hao doesn’t say anything in response to that.

Jinxin sighs again, picking up a brush from the table, “Sit tight now, I’ll explain the, as you mentioned, complicated interpersonal relations.”

–

“...here’s the Seventh Prince, Wang Nanjun, who couldn’t give two fucks about power, so he’s taken a very neutral stance, but His Highness—the Fifth, of course, our prince—has been attempting to win him over to our side, he’ll be a good help because his wife’s the sister of Shen- jiangjun , remember I mentioned him just now–”

“Shen Quanrui?” Hao perks up, “Another name I remember.”

“Yes, yes, but you need to stop calling people by their full names or you’ll go to jail in no time,” Jinxin rolls his eyes, “Anyway, General Shen commands the special forces, a symbol of power and a force we need to win over if His Highness is to be Emperor or they’ll always pose a threat. The interesting thing is that General Shen maintains a strictly neutral standpoint on the outside, but of course, I have my reservations about that because he grew up with the Fourth Prince—Ma Jingxiang, please say you remember him—but then again, Ma Jingxiang killed his cousin’s husband’s brother, and I heard that they hadn’t gotten along in school, so you never know.”

“His cousin’s husband’s brother ? What has that got anything to do with Ricky?” Hao wonders aloud.

“Hao-ge,” Jinxin looks him in the eye, “WHO THE FUCK IS RICKY???”

“I mean, General Shen,” Hao grins sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“Ugh,” Jinxin rolls his eyes again, “Who knows, maybe he was really close to his cousin’s husband’s brother. Moving on, the Ninth Prince Liu Tianyue…”

Oh, Ollie’s somewhere in this too. Hao may not know Ollie here, but he sincerely hopes Ollie’s staying out of this bloodshed.

“...he’s only seventeen this year, and he’s a dear. Another one not interested in the power struggle—as he should, honestly, he’s too young to effectively join in at this point and it’d just be too dangerous, why not just stay as the youngest and win no matter who gets the throne in the end—so you don’t need to worry too much about him.”

Thank God.

“Wait, what about the Eighth…? You missed him out. What’s his name? Maybe I remember him too.” Hao points out.

Jinxin has realised at this point that by ‘remember’ Hao means ‘can match face to name or vice versa’ and nothing more than that. “I never miss anyone out, my dear Chief Advisor,” Jinxin shakes his head, “The Eighth Prince was Tao Yuan.”

“And he’s not involved? Completely?” Hao remembers Tao Yuan from their brief interactions. He’d left before the first mission in Boys Planet though, so Hao doesn’t know much about him.

“Um, it’d be quite difficult for him to be involved in any way considering he died when he was three, so…”

So 2023 was reflected in some way in this universe, was it? Hao falls silent, pausing to think for a while, “But even dead people play a role sometimes, don’t they? In the struggle for the throne, I mean. Anything is possible.”

“Yup,” Jinxin pops the ‘p’, “The only limits are your imagination and the intelligence of your advisors, which, in His Highness’ case, is us. Speaking of, we better go.”

“Right,” Hao nods, “Let’s go.”

“Tell your maid that we’re going– oh, you don’t remember their names, do you?” Jinxin looks upon him with pity as Hao smiles awkwardly, “Look, there’s a simple solution. Just tell everyone you’re going to rename them all.”

“Oh, you’re right.” He’d almost forgotten that servants were given new names by their masters in Ancient China; names that could be changed whenever their master wanted.

“I always am, Hao-ge. Do that later, we’re leaving.”

“Coming!”

Chapter Text

Under the cover of the night, Hao and Jinxin make their way to the Fifth’s palace on foot. Hao pulls the cloak a little tighter around his neck (fuck, he really misses UNIQLO) and does his best to remain nondescript behind Jinxin.

There were so many people they had to avoid.

(“The guards will be patrolling and we’ve got to avoid them since there’s a curfew here, we are most definitely out past curfew, and the Emperor will get suspicious if his sons start having secret meetings with their advisors since he likes to think he’s young and nowhere near dying,” Jinxin had told him, “Given your previous athletic ability—nevermind, I’m not sure if you retained any of it—given my current ability, we should be able to get rid of all the guards that we meet, God forbid, except the leader of the guards.”

Hao waited patiently for the continuation.

“His name is Chen Kuanjui, though I don’t suppose you’d know him—unless, of course, you somehow do, I really don’t understand what happened to you—but it doesn’t matter since he’s only one person anyway and it’d be hard to recognise him since everyone’s dressed in black. Just avoid all the guards.” Hao nodded.

“Oh, and,” Jinxin added after a thoughtful pause, “We don’t know for sure, but there might very possibly be other princes calling meetings tonight, so if you see them, just pretend… you didn’t.”

“That works,” Hao nodded again, “I’m pretty good at being inconspicuous.”

“If you were good at being inconspicuous, Hao-ge,” Jinxin sighed, long-suffering, “Then before you got yourself into this nonsense you wouldn’t have been facing assassination attempts left and right, fuck the Second (“Jongwoo?” “Yes, Yoon fucking Jongwoo, Hao-ge, really ! The Second Prince! God!”) and after you got yourself into this nonsense you wouldn’t be escorted back from the palace of the Crown Prince at 7am in the morning!”)

Hao has never been one for exercise, but the Chief Advisor clearly put a lot of effort into upkeeping his physical fitness, because Hao’s been walking for quite a while and he’s tired, but not as tired as he would usually be.

Jinxin, meanwhile, is not breaking a sweat.

“Jinxin,” he pants, “How are you so relaxed?”

Jinxin looks at him with an expression of pity—one that he’s worn quite often in the past few hours, unfortunately for Hao—and presses his fingers to Hao’s shoulder, “Here, you should feel some energy entering your body from your shoulder—that’s me—now breathe in and direct that energy towards your legs, imagine your body light as a feather… You’ve really forgotten all your wugong and cultivation, haven’t you?”

Hao gapes at Jinxin, horrified, “You’re entering my body?”

“...Why did you have to say it like that? Concentrate!” Jinxin’s bony fingers prod harder at his shoulder, “This is how you taught me to cultivate after picking me off the streets, remember? Oh, wait…”

“Can you stop rubbing it in that I can’t remember anything ?” Hao focuses again, and tries his best to concentrate. He’s always heard that in Ancient China, wugong —or their martial arts—involved many different sects and methods of cultivation, but most of these were lost in history and weren’t passed down through the years. His 21st Century body wouldn’t be able to handle this energy, or direct it, since cultivation was best amassed from a young age, but given that this body wasn’t his and used to cultivate all the time … Zhang Hao was going to learn to fly across roofs and walk on walls. Just like his wuxia dramas. 

His excitement shoots up as he identifies a warm stream of something flowing in from his shoulder. Jinxin , his subconscious tells him. Shut up , his conscious self shoots back, that’s weird as fuck. Brows furrowing, he imagines himself grasping it, and almost as if a dam broke, Hao feels his entire body charging with energy, so much so that it takes him a moment to subdue and control it.

Gasping, he looks up at Jinxin, who’s removed his fingers and returned to clasping his folding fan in his left hand, “Why’d you suddenly direct so much energy in?”

Jinxin’s lips curl up in the shadow of a smirk, “Me? Ah, no, Hao-ge, that’s all you. Looks like you haven’t lost your cultivation after all.”

Hao frowns again, trying his best to control the flow of energy within him, and finds it to be significantly different from Jinxin’s. Warm, pulsing and passionate, this energy was… him . He flips his palms up, “I feel lighter.”

“Yes, you should,” Jinxin grins, “Now let’s go faster and don’t you dare say you’re tired. I’d thought earlier that you were just lazy, not that you’d actually forgotten everything .”

“Can you stop–”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Jinxin concedes, “Let’s go .”

A few moments later, Hao recalls his dream of flying across the roofs, “Hey, why aren’t we crossing the city over the roofs? We’re in black, and it’s night…”

“Out of consideration for your safety, of course,” Jinxin snaps his fan open at Hao’s indignant expression, “Okay, fine, come join me, then.”

With a tap of his foot on the ground, Jinxin snaps his fan closed and pushes it firmly to the side before he lands perfectly on a tree branch, hands behind his back and not a single thread out of place.

“Wow,” Hao can’t help but wonder, “Wow.”

Jinxin arches an eyebrow at him, “All that I know today was taught by you.”

Damn, the Chief Advisor must’ve been so cool !

He then promptly attempts to do what Jinxin did and succeeds in lifting himself off the floor before falling halfway up the tree, only saved from kissing the ground by a descending Jinxin grabbing the back of his cloak, “And this is why we are not flying across the roofs.”

Hao taps Jinxin’s thigh urgently until he lets go, “You’re fucking strangling me!”

“ Language !” Jinxin cocks his head, “Alright, now we really have to go or we’ll be late, and His Highness isn’t going to be happy.”

–

They come to a stop before a towering mass of buildings, not very different from that of Hanbin’s home. Jinxin checks cautiously to ensure that no one is around before he moves a flower pot out of the way, the gigantic ceramic bowl creaking as it turns to reveal a flight of stairs leading downwards.

This was actually so fucking cool.

“In this way,” Jinxin leads the way cheerfully, “When we go in later, there should be five of us in attendance, not including His Highness. You, me, Zhang Shuaibo, Lee Seunghwan, and Guan Lan. We’ll stay back after the meeting to notify His Highness of… your condition, but during the main meeting, it’ll probably be better for you to speak as little as possible. We’re all on the same side of things here, but it’s still for the best if as little people know about what happened to you as possible.”

Hao nods his assent, then bows, following Jinxin as they enter a brightly-lit conference room with three other men already there. He ticks them off in his mind: Jianyu, Seunghwan, and the pretty non-Boys Planet (2023) contestant must be Guan Lan. 

“Your Highness,” Jinxin bows. Hao echoes his words.

“Sit,” Jianyu waves his arm, “Let us begin.”

“Your Highness, are we… all here?” Jinxin asks cautiously.

Hao takes this time to examine Jianyu closely. This Jianyu had the same cold handsomeness as did the Jianyu he knew, but where he knew warmth, the Fifth Prince only had a brooding expression on his face. Right, he had expected all the trainees to be different, anyway. It’s not as if the idiots from Boys Planet would be able to survive in a full-blown power struggle in Ancient China. Jianyu’s eyes are calculative as he looks at Hao, and a little scared, he averts his eyes, avoiding Jianyu’s gaze.

The other man chuckles softly, lips turning upwards in a barely-there smile before he turns to Jinxin, “Zhang Shuaibo is otherwise occupied today. We are assembled here to discuss the matter of recruiting General Shen Quanrui to our cause. Guan Lan, I recall having asked you to have this matter investigated…”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the young man bows, then rises to his feet, “It is well-known that General Shen went missing for a year when he was younger, about five or six, but what is not well-known was that a travelling merchant from the West had taken him and another wandering boy in. A couple of months ago, he was sending word out to search for that merchant, demonstrating the importance of this short encounter to him— I hear the merchant has passed, but the other boy has yet to be found.”

“You’re suggesting…” Seunghwan frowns, “We pretend to be the other boy? Are you absolutely sure that is feasible?”

“Yes,” Guan Lan raises an eyebrow daintily, “He’s looking for the other boy too, and it’s been so long that I think it rather impossible for him to be able to identify the other boy; besides, since the other boy hasn’t been found in so long, he probably won’t appear and ruin our plans.”

Hao opens his mouth.

Jinxin gives him a look.

Hao ignores him and speaks anyway, “But it would be… rather sudden for us to suddenly show up and claim to be his long-lost friend.”

“That’s true,” Guan Lan muses, “Hmm.”

“Shen Quanrui has only recently returned from the borders where he was guarding, though,” Jinxin points out, “It has been less than a month; if we move quickly, we can claim we were simply hesitating as we did not know if it was truly him.”

“近乡情怯? To be afraid to meet up with someone of the past because you’re scared they’ve changed too much?” Hao asks.

“Something like that, I suppose,” Jinxin agrees.

“Is there any way to prove that we are the person he is looking for?” Jianyu says, “General Shen is an intelligent man.”

“About that,” Guan Lan sits down again, “The travelling merchant is said to be from the West, and General Shen has an English name… No one knows about it. We could use that to prove our identity.”

“And have you discovered his English name?” Another man clad in black pushes the door to the room open, bringing with him some of the chilly air of the night, “Or do you need help?”

“Did I not just say no one knows about it? No one means no one!”

“Then how do you intend to find out his name so that we can pretend to be his childhood friend?”

Jinxin grabs Hao’s hand under the table, cold fingers tracing letters on his palm. Ji Feng . Ah, the man’s name, then. Hao nods once, Jinxin taking it as a cue to continue writing. Ji Feng X Guan Lan.

Hao jerks upwards, gaze landing upon the two men glaring at each other on the other end of the room. Damn, he hadn’t thought about it that way before, but… yes, he supposes they did have sexual tension. Bless him, thank God for the ever-present gossip that never changes, regardless of space and time. 

To confirm, he grabs Jinxin’s hand back, tracing a heart shape on his palm with a questioning expression. Jinxin gapes at him in horror, hissing, “No! Hate! Hate!”

Oh . Ugh, that’s disappointing. Hao does see potential, though.

Jianyu watches them with amusement, “Chief Advisor, Cai- cishi , do you need me to send out an imperial decree mandating your marriage?”

“...I like women,” Jinxin manages.

“What the fuck?” 

Jinxin pinches Hao’s thigh at that, hard , “Shut up.”

Jianyu pretends not to notice Hao’s slip of tongue, turning back to the two still arguing about Shen Quanrui’s English name, “Any ideas on how we can find that out, then?”

Wait. Shen Quanrui’s English name? Given the undeniable similarities between this universe and his own, and how Jinxin’s personal information was identical to what he had written on Boys Planet… Hm. Shen Quanrui’s English name, Hao knows. He’s called him that for years .

“That’s easy,” Hao shrugs, “It’s Ricky.”

Seunghwan looks up at him, “Did you just name him whatever you felt like?”

“No, I’m a hundred percent certain. It’s Ricky.”

Guan Lan eyes him sceptically, “Are you sure ? This impacts His Highness’ road to the throne, you know, so…”

“I’m absolutely sure.”

“Your Highness,” Ji Feng folds his arms, “Not to comment on Chief Advisor Zhang’s ability—which we all know is incredible—but I really don’t think this is reliable information.”

Jianyu hums, “Actually, I think it quite reliable. Alright, it’s late, so we’ll end the meeting here for today. Zhang Hao, Cai Jinxin, you two stay behind. I want to discuss more regarding the Shen Quanrui, er… Ricky, situation.”

“Your Highness ,” Ji Feng glares, annoyed, “I just got here.”

Jinxin flicks the fan open again and speaks to Hao behind its cover, “He used to study with His Highness in the palace when they were young. They’re as close as friends can get.”

“Oh, is that so, A-Feng ?” Jianyu smiles, showing just a glint of white teeth, “Should’ve reached earlier.”

“Even His Highness doesn’t want to see you around,” Guan Lan comments snarkily from the door, “Get the hint and fuck off .”

“ Language ,” Seunghwan chides absently. 

Somehow, somewhere between the quips that emerged after the serious discussion elapsed, Hao senses a bond closer than that of prince and advisors, or of collaborators and coworkers. Deep down, this group of people feel almost like friends— not quite and not entirely, unsurprising due to societal restrictions— but almost. They interacted just like… how some of the trainees did in Boys Planet.

“Goodnight,” he can’t stop himself from saying.

Seunghwan looks over, surprised, “The Chief Advisor never did use to bid us goodnight. What happened?”

“I happened,” Jinxin grits his teeth. Hao can hear him internally cursing at Hao from here.

“ Ohh ,” Ji Feng looks him up and down, “Is that why you were holding hands beneath the table?”

“For the last time , Ji fuc– ahem, Ji Feng. I like women ,” Jinxin points at the door, “His Highness and I have important things to discuss. Out .”

“Women?” Ji Feng doesn’t let up, “Who?”

The opportunity was just too fucking good. Hao can’t be blamed for this. He really can’t.

“Your mother,” Hao blurts out.

Ji Feng and Jinxin both turn at the same time to face him, scandalised. Guan Lan snorts out a laugh, “I never thought you’d be capable of this, Zhang Hao. That was highly inappropriate and extremely fucking funny. Really, you used to be so… uptight and cold. What happened? Is it love?”

Jinxin rolls his eyes at Hao.

“No,” Hao smiles, “If you suggest that Jinxin and I are engaged in inappropriate relations one more time, I will be making advances on your mother instead.”

Jinxin looks like he significantly preferred nervous, scared and socially incompetent Zhang Hao over comfortable, has-associated-this-group-of-people-with-Boys-Planet-trainees, and equally socially incompetent Zhang Hao.

“Oh, I’m terrified,” Guan Lan feigns a shiver.

Jianyu eyes the door, the coldness in his eyes receding somewhat, “If you don’t take your leave, your mother will be terrified too.”

“I hear Madame Guan rather enjoys young and handsome men,” Seunghwan grins, “Successful, too!”

“No, my mother will certainly be terrified,” Guan Lan deadpans, “Normally Chief Advisor Zhang looks like an expressionless corpse. No offence.”

“Well, my mother will be too,” Ji Feng grabs his arm, “Let’s go .”

“Goodnight, Seunghwan,” Jianyu smiles.

“Goodnight, Your Highness,” Seunghwan bows slightly, “I will take my leave.”

“What, only Lee Seunghwan? What about the rest of us?” 

Ji Feng clasps a hand over Guan Lan’s mouth, “His Highness couldn’t give two fucks about you!”

The door slams. Distantly, Hao hears Guan Lan shrieking.

“How haven’t they gotten caught by any guards yet?” He wonders aloud.

Jianyu leans forward, steepling his fingers against the table. “Yes, I wonder that too. But more importantly,” he pauses, smiling in a way Hao knows is definitely not friendly, “I am wondering who you are and what you have done with Chief Advisor Zhang.”

“I promise I’m Zhang Hao,” Hao clasps his hands together, “Like, actually, please believe me, Jia– uhh, Your Highness.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jianyu considers, “I’ve heard some artists can make impressive imitations of faces with human skin. If I just tried to peel off a layer of your skin…” He trails off.

Hao’s heart skips a beat. Fuck! He knew it, this group of people, no matter how stupid and Boys-Planet-trainee-like they seem, are as dangerous as fucking t-rex es. 

“DON’T!” Hao screams, “My face is really pretty, and I appreciate it a lot, and so do thousands of people, and–”

Jinxin places a hand on Hao’s thigh, “Your Highness, I vouch for him. He really is Zhang Hao.”

A few minutes of explanation later, Jianyu’s expression has morphed into a confused, calculating one, “Is that why the two of you are now romantic partners?”

“Your Highness ,” Jinxin sighs, “We really are not.”

“Well, you could’ve been seduced by this imposter,” Jianyu shrugs, “You never know.”

Using the same tactic as he’d applied to Jinxin, Hao rushes to speak again, “Your Highness, you like dressing up and going to restaurants by yourself.”

Jianyu raises an eyebrow, “Chief Advisor, it really is you.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that a lot today,” Hao sighs.

“With an attitude, too,” Jianyu adds, “So, Jinxin, what you say is that he showed up at my brother’s palace in the middle of the night with no knowledge apart from names and faces? And now he is stupid and has gone through a personality change?”

“...Something like that,” Jinxin nods, “Concisely put.”

“I am not stupid !” Hao defends himself, “And, look, that’s how I know Rick– General Shen’s English name too!”

“Fine,” Jianyu acquiesces, “I believe you. No one else knows about my little dining habit, anyway. Not even my mother.”

“Yes, because Noble Consort Chen would ground you,” Jinxin points out.

“Your input is unnecessary, Cai Jinxin.”

“So… about General Shen,” Hao attempts, “What are we going to do?”

“You’re mistaken,” Jianyu stands up, “You mean, what you are going to do. How stupid has he become?”

Jinxin shrugs, “Just lost his memories of people. Brain works fine.”

“Ah,” Jianyu comments lightly, “Well, that settles it. Zhang Hao, go meet Shen Quanrui and convince him to join our cause. I trust your confidence in your intel, regardless of what supernatural method by which you obtained it. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Yes, Jian– Your Highness,” Hao bows his head, “I’ll get it done as soon as possible.”

“You’re not used to calling people by their titles, are you?” Jianyu asks, amused (he’s really very easily amused, despite the cold appearance. Hao notes with thanks that he’s stopped glaring around the room, since he’s apparently now confirmed that Hao is one of them and isn’t suspecting him anymore.), “If that’s the case, earn my full trust back by completing this task and I’ll consider letting you call me Jianyu.”

“...Yes, Your Highness,” Hao nods, “I’ll… do my best.”

“He means he will get it done,” Jinxin grabs his hand, “Let’s go.”

Jianyu looks at them strangely, “This must be difficult for you… tell you what, when I become Emperor, I’ll pass a law legalising homosexual marriages. As my special gift to the two of you.”

“Your Highness, I do not like Zhang Hao ! He’s an old hag !” Jinxin denies vehemently. Hao is slightly hurt by the name-calling.

“Yes, I forgot,” Jianyu chuckles, “You like Zhang Shuaibo .”

“Your Highness! I like women!”

“Whatever,” Jianyu waves his hand, “You’re dismissed, too.”

Hao takes the hint and drags Jinxin kicking and screaming out of the room, “Is it always like this?”

“NO!” Jinxin whips around furiously, “You motherfucker , I’ve never had my sexuality questioned! This is all your fault!”

“His Highness seemed pretty sure that you liked Shuaibo.”

“You haven’t even met him since your strange personality change,” Jinxin grumbles.

Chapter Text

Upon his return home, Jinxin quietly reminds Hao that they don’t have to go to parliament the next day, but he has some other family commitments, so Hao’s going to be left alone in his (very huge) house. 

“For fuck’s sake, Hao-ge, please figure something out before we go to parliament. If the Emperor asks you something and you stare at him and ask ‘Who are you?’ I will not be able to save you. Not even His Highness will be,” Jinxin clutches his hand tightly, “Please don’t kill yourself. And figure out how to approach General Shen!”

“Yes, yes, I will,” Hao responds absently, “What family commitments do you have? Meeting Shuaibo?”

“ No ,” Jinxin rolls his eyes, “He’s busy, you know. As you should be, if you hadn’t… you know.”

“Fuck off,” Hao grits his teeth.

As the sound of Jinxin’s laughter fades away with a swish of his cloak, Hao turns and steps into the light of his study. Three men are waiting for him within, and Hao would’ve been terrified if he hadn’t recognised one of them as the aide he’d sent to get Jinxin in the afternoon. 

“Ah… Fu Xue,” Hao squints at the name embroidered on the other aide’s robes, “Shuang Hua.”

He turns to the man in the centre, whose robes were unfortunately missing an embroidered name. Word has apparently gotten around that the Chief Advisor’s acting a little strange, though, because the man in the centre only inclines his head respectfully, “Chief Advisor, I am the Keeper of your grounds.”

“Yes, yes,” Hao takes a step back a little nervously, “You are… um…”

“Xu Minghao, Sir,” the man—Minghao—says, “Is the Chief Advisor ready to turn in?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” Hao yawns, “I’m tired.”

–

Early in the morning the next day, Hao calls all the servants in his house to the central courtyard (which Hao has just discovered and thinks is extremely pretty, the highlight of which is the koi pond in the corner near the bamboo forest).

Pale fingers working at the lychees which Fu Xue brought him, Hao leans against a mahogany chair positioned just under the shade of his roof. The chair’s really hard and the cushion is really hot, but the chair costs more than two months of his rental back in 2023, so it’s not like he’s going to complain.

The servants exchange worried glances, seemingly scared that Hao was going to do something to them, but he only licked his finger, “All of you, praise me.”

“What?” 

That was Minghao.

Hao shrugs, “Praise me. What do people say about me here in the capital? I feel like being praised today.”

The servants exchange another set of worried glances before Lan Xiang speaks up, “Chief Advisor, you’re the youngest Chief Advisor our dynasty has seen!”

With someone having begun the praising, the whole group follows suit. While most of the praises were simply variations of how handsome and smart Hao was (which he does like to hear, useless though they may be to educate him further upon his present situation), he’s gotten more or less a complete understanding of his situation. 

Zhang Hao (the original owner of this body) was the top scorer in the imperial examinations three years ago, and the Emperor had liked him so much that within the span of a short three years, he’d been appointed Chief Advisor. In this world, he was an orphan, and the only semblance of family he had was Jinxin. 

Having run out of things to say after about twenty minutes, Hao calls the praising party to a halt upon hearing the third person praise his ability to eat more than one bowl of rice per meal.

“Now–” Hao is cut off by the sound of hooves hitting the paved floor, and the unintelligible shouting of someone’s aide outside his front door, “Shuang Hua and Fu Xue, go see what this nonsense is about.”

“Ahem,” Minghao coughs, “This, ah, nonsense, is likely another official coming to visit you today.”

“What!” Hao makes a face, horrified, “It’s a holiday .”

“Precisely why there would be visitors, Sir,” Minghao sighs, “On usual working days, visitors would only come in the evening.”

Fu Xue comes back then, panting, “Sir, it’s the Marquis of Dingxi. Shuang Hua is leading the entourage in now. Please follow me to the entrance hall to welcome him.”

“I have no idea who that is,” Hao smiles.

Minghao pipes up, “You were the top scoring scholar in the last imperial examinations, right? He was the top candidate in the martial arts, but he was born to the family that helped build this dynasty up. The first Marquis of Dingxi died protecting our dynasty’s first Emperor, which explains the honour of ‘Marquis’, and each generation they’ve produced talents that have been extremely loyal to the Emperors and have made outstanding contributions to society, so…”

“So they’re rich and powerful,” Fu Xue concludes, “And I hear you and the current one became good friends because of the imperial exam. He’s a neutral party.”

“I still have no idea who that is,” Hao shakes his head, “Please enlighten me.”

Minghao sighs, “Cui Zhan? Does that strike a chord?”

“Nope,” Hao pops the ‘p’, “Not at all.”

Whether or not the name strikes a chord doesn’t actually change Hao’s position in the end, because slightly over ten minutes later he finds himself smiling cordially at an (admittedly very handsome) man he does not recognise. Hao doesn’t think it’s so unfair to expect everyone in this strange historical drama (that is happening in real life!) to be someone he knows from Boys Planet. Ugh.

“Hao-ge,” the man begins, and Hao’s smile freezes on his lips. Fuck! If he’s calling Hao Hao-ge, Hao assumes they’re too close for Hao to call the man Marquis of Dingxi or Marquis Cui or something, meaning that he doesn’t know what to call him at all.

Hao clears his throat. “Hey…” 

Cui Zhan looks at him weirdly. Hao fixes his gaze upon a very expensive-looking pot of flowers in the corner of the room. He bets the Chief Advisor can tell you 10 different facts about the pot, no sweat. But Zhang Hao? Zhang Hao knows precisely two things. The flowers are pink and there are five flowers in the pot. He’s not even that sure about the first fact because the flowers are rather exotic and could very well be red.

“Hao-ge? What’s so interesting about that pot of flowers?” 

“Ah, yes…” Hao snaps back to attention. “What’s gotten you here today?”

Cui Zhan produces a bottle of something from within his sleeve. Hao absentmindedly considers the possibilities and potential of using his sleeve as a bag. Did everyone else have special sleeves? Hao looks forlornly down at the teacup that’s sliding out of his own sleeve.

The other man takes a swig of what Hao has come to realise is alcohol and raises an eyebrow. “Just here to say hi. Why are you doing that?”

“I do this a lot,” Hao says defensively.

“Okay…” Cui Zhan nods slowly and turns to Shuang Hua, who’s still standing behind his chair. Keeping the bottle of alcohol carefully obscuring his lips, he whispers, very loudly, that he thinks Shuang Hua should get a medic to give Hao a checkup. Perhaps a shaman too, since Hao could be possessed.

“I can hear you, you know,” Hao glowers, “and I don’t need a shaman!”

“I was only putting forward an innocent suggestion,” Cui Zhan shrugs. “Alcohol?”

“No, thank you.”

“Did you have other commitments today, Hao-ge? You seem in a rush to leave,” Cui Zhan muses without an ounce of guilt. “Perhaps something on your mind?”

“Well,” Hao clears his throat, eager to get away. “If you must know, I was thinking of paying Ric– General Shen a visit.”

“My!” Cui Zhan finishes the rest of the bottle in one swig and rises to his feet. “General Shen! I didn’t know you two were close. I’ve never heard him speak of you– or you of him, for that matter.”

“We are sufficiently well-acquainted,” Hao claims, leading the way out of the sitting-room. “Why are you following me?”

Cui Zhan blinks at him. “Really, I’d think you weren’t Zhang Hao. He’s my officer-in-command, remember?”

Hao sighs. There’s no getting rid of him, then. He makes to call for the carriage but stops at another funny look from Cui Zhan. The possibility of getting sold off to a rich merchant or—new achievement unlocked! Exorcised by a scammer shaman— is only increasing.

“You know General Shen stays next door, right? It’s, like, a two minute walk,” Cui Zhan says.

“Of course I knew that,” Hao turns right and starts walking as fast as he can.

“That’s the way to my house, Hao-ge,” Cui Zhan calls from behind him. “General Shen stays to the left.”

“That’s where I meant to go,” Hao turns smoothly on his heel and sets off leftward.

“Down the alley,” Cui Zhan sighs. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I am in the alley,” Hao insists, despite standing in the middle of the road and almost getting knocked over by a rogue horse-drawn carriage.

He makes it into the Shen residence without much fanfare and with a very concerned-looking warrior on his heel. There are two men standing in the middle of Ricky’s entrance hall, one wearing Gunwook’s face who nods stiffly at Hao before sweeping out in a full suit of armour, while the other in flowing blue robes makes considerable effort to school his expression into one that’s more palatable before greeting Hao and his newfound buddy.

“Chief Advisor Zhang,” the man acknowledges. “ Cui Zhan.” 

Well. He doesn’t seem to like Cui Zhan very well. Hao can only nod, not knowing the other’s name at all, and thankfully Cui Zhan comes to his rescue because the other wheezes, doubling over in laughter (why is he doing that? Is he drunk?) at the other man’s choice of robe colour. “Ah, Minister Zhou, fashionable as ever I see!”

“Cui Zhan, you–”

“Minister Zhou,” Hao quickly cuts in. “Have you seen Ric– General Shen?”

The man, who Hao is beginning to recognise from the paintings he keeps in his own study of the other court officials as Zhou Yunhui, Minister for Commerce and heir to the earldom of Danyang, pauses his fierce glaring at Cui Zhan and turns his attention to Hao. “He should be in the courtyard, Chief Advisor. Do you need me to take you there?”

“That’s quite alright,” Hao declines politely. “I’ll call for one of the servants to do it.”

Zhou Yunhui nods, then turns and snaps at Cui Zhan. “What problem do you have with my robes?”

“I’d rather see you out of them, if you know what I mean,” Cui Zhan gives him a flirtatious wink and ducks behind a column to avoid the teacup that goes sailing at his forehead. Hao feels his eyebrow twitch. That’s 1) EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE and 2) Ricky’s. 

“CUI ZHAN!” The other man bellows. How surprising. Hao had considered the Danyang Heir a gentle, well-educated man. “THAT’S HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE!” It was. Perhaps Cui Zhan had insisted on following him here just so he could harass the poor Minister of Commerce.

“It’s not as if we haven’t slept together– Yunhui, watch the cup!” 

Another shard of porcelain finds its way to the carpet near Hao’s foot. Hao is very invested in this strange relationship the other two have, but this may be overly concerning for his physical safety.

“Don’t put it that way!” Zhou Yunhui finds Hao with panicked eyes. “It was one time, it was really cold and we were stuck deep in enemy territory in a cage, knee-deep in snow– and don’t call me Yunhui, you fool!” He rounds on Cui Zhan.

“You liked it!” 

“I would’ve frozen to death if I hadn’t done that–”

Wisely, Hao elects to escape the room as fast as possible. He pats himself on the back for his wisdom. Catching the nearest servant by the shoulder, he asks them to bring him to Ricky. Bowing respectfully, the servant acquiesces, but not before he looks venomously over Hao’s shoulder at the two men in Ricky’s entrance hall. “Sir has said in no unclear terms that the Heir to the Danyang Earldom and the Marquis of Dingxi are not to destroy his tea sets in arguments.”

“I didn’t bring them here,” Hao finds it extremely important to clarify. “I didn’t. Cui Zhan wanted to come along for god-knows-what reason and Zhou Yunhui was already here.”

“To destroy the master’s tea sets, no doubt,” the servant mutters.