Help! The Regent Is No Gentleman

A proud, sharp-tongued uke with a soft heart × a gentle, refined seme with a cunning side

Three years into He Zixu's reign, everyone in court feared him. The satisfaction he felt after taking the late emperor's head, finally avenging his family, lasted only an instant. All that remained was emptiness. He remembered his mother holding his hand on her deathbed and saying, “Zixu, live safely and happily. Be kind and upright.” But now, apart from the imperial robes on his back, he had nothing. He wasn't happy. He had never been happy.

Shen Huaijin was the regent. Though gentle and refined on the surface, deep down he hated He Zixu. In his eyes, this madman who had murdered both emperor and father did not deserve to sit on the throne. The person he favored was the late emperor's eldest son, the kind and virtuous First Prince. What he didn't know was that the First Prince had repeatedly sent assassins after He Zixu, only for every attempt to fail.

The two clashed at court, neither willing to yield.

Until that night.

Someone secretly drugged the guests at a palace banquet. He Zixu was overcome by an aphrodisiac and collapsed in his bedchamber. Shen Huaijin had been given the same drug and stumbled inside. By the flickering candlelight, the two men, their minds clouded, ended up tangled together. When the drug wore off and dawn broke, He Zixu coldly put on his red robes. His voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like his own. “The regent would do well to forget what happened today.” Shen Huaijin remained seated by the bed. Looking at his own hands, he suddenly remembered how the man beneath him had bitten through his lip the previous night rather than make a sound. His heart gave a sudden leap.

From that day on, nothing was the same.