“Miaoyi…” Zhao Jia’s eyes scanned her from head to toe. Seeing that she had no injuries, the tension in her chest finally eased.
“Duke of Zhen, your household is large and wealthy, yet you still lack servants to care for you?”
After the husband finished the morning court session, he ordered her to invite Miaoyi. But when she inquired at the Shen residence, the person was not there.
This Duke of Zhen had gained such favor from His Majesty that his ego was through the roof.
He was capable of doing such a shameful thing.
Zhao Jia had to retract what she said yesterday—Shen Jueming was truly inhuman.
“I, the Princess, specially requested that His Majesty grant the Duke ten beautiful maidens. Now, there should be no lack of attendants to care for him.”
She did not openly mention Miaoyi’s dignity, but her words already carried a warning: if he did not know better, he would have no mercy from her.
Zhao Jia helped Miaoyi onto the carriage.
“Miaoyi, I will take you into the palace to see the Emperor. Rest assured, with me here, the Duke will dare not act arrogantly.”
Miaoyi’s eyes were slightly red. She leaned into Zhao Jia’s arms, her shoulders trembling with sobs. “Sister Zhao, thank you.”
“It’s alright, Miaoyi. Your husband treats you like a younger sister, so I will be your elder sister-in-law. In the future, if you encounter trouble, come to me, and I will ensure justice is served.”
Zhao Jia was straightforward and righteous. Seeing Miaoyi so heartbroken, her heart ached deeply.
At that time, when her husband spoke, she hadn’t paid attention. She hadn’t realized Miaoyi was quietly seeking her help.
The wind slightly lifted the carriage curtain. Miaoyi, composed, lifted her hand and let a handkerchief with her orchid scent fall outside.
The wind carried it onto the man’s face. Recognizing the familiar scent, Shen Jueming lifted the handkerchief and saw the embroidery: “Shen Lang.”
His eyes immediately turned red.
It was hers.
She must be in pain now, believing that he had betrayed her, and that she had suffered much at the Duke’s residence.
That despicable Ruan—he would pay for taking another man’s wife.
The broken brush was clenched tightly in his hand, his eyes cold. At this moment, there was not a trace of scholarly elegance in him.
Miaoyi, it was not I who betrayed you. It was Ruan’s arrogance; everything he did was to protect the two of you.
He swore that one day he would crush Ruan under his feet.
To be humiliated like this, to become the laughingstock of the world, and to be separated from his beloved—he would never forgive it.
Suddenly, he coughed up blood, stumbling to his knees.
“Sir…”
Miaoyi, composed, watched Shen Jueming spit blood and withdrew her gaze.
This was only the beginning. Everything you desire, I will take back.
What you owe my father, you will repay with your life.
Hall of Eternal Life.
“What do you mean by not letting me in?” Zhao Jia, hands on her hips, glared at Li Dequan, who shivered inwardly. Princess Zhao Jia was nothing less than a little demon.
He knew that look well—ever since childhood, Zhao Jia had led His Majesty to climb trees, pick eggs, and wade into rivers.
The most dangerous year was when she stole all the eunuchs’ treasures in the palace, reorganized them, and even now he didn’t know which treasures belonged to him.
Li Dequan truly feared Princess Zhao Jia.
“His Majesty said that Minister Yan cannot leave you even for a moment. If you return late, he will worry.”
“Li eunuch, if we return this early, what are we going to do!”
“Naturally, what a married couple should do.”
“What a married couple should do—remove your clothes and just talk under the quilt?” Zhao Jia’s voice trembled, dust falling from the beams.
Li Dequan’s heart raced. His tongue should have been slapped. He had chosen the wrong words.
“Let me ask our wise and valiant Emperor—he fears women, abstains from them, yet the civil and military officials must do the same? Become monks?”
Seeing Zhao Jia rush forward, Li Dequan hardened his heart.
Loyal to His Majesty, he had done his duty.
“Princess, watch Minister Yan,” Li Dequan said, distracting her while two strong Golden Guards pressed her to leave the palace.
“Damn you! Wait for me—”
Li Dequan quickly pulled out a Bodhisattva pendant, muttering, “Bodhisattva above, protect this servant’s life.”
When Miaoyi entered, the Emperor sat on the Dragon Throne reviewing memorials, his expression stern, exuding imperial authority.
“Qingzhou’s Miaoyi greets Your Majesty.”
As she knelt, the Emperor raised a hand. “Grind the ink.”
She paused, confused, and began to grind the ink.
The Emperor’s posture was upright, the desk stacked with memorials, cinnabar still wet.
Every comment he made on the memorials was thoughtful, not perfunctory.
The Emperor who reviewed petitions like this and the one issuing frivolous edicts yesterday were seemingly different people—a paradox impossible to predict.
After reviewing two stacks, the Emperor closed his eyes, tired.
A strong hand grasped hers. Startled, she tried to pull back, but he held her firmly.
His martial ring pressed against her palm, evoking memories of the Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple.
The Emperor had mischievously used the ring to tug open her undergarment ties.
The martial ring was not smooth like a scholar’s ring; every touch made her tremble.
She closed her eyes, turning her head slightly.
“Your Majesty…”
The Emperor ignored her. As a ruler determined to restore the empire’s glory, he was exhausted.
Handling endless state affairs daily, on top of dealing with fools, drained him completely.
Being Emperor was to bear the labor of all under heaven.
If so, requesting a little reward was not too much.
I only allow myself to be a tyrant for three hours.
He opened his eyes, suddenly pulling her into his embrace, fingertips grazing her sensitive earlobe. She tried to rise.
“Your Majesty…”
The Emperor held her immobile.
Miaoyi felt his erratic breathing, his sharp features alight with desire and determination.
She lightly struggled. “Your Majesty, this is improper…”
“Miaoyi, having received my favor, you belong to me.” The Emperor smiled, kneading her earlobe.
Her body trembled, her eyes blushed, and tears gathered.
“Your Majesty, the incident at Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple was an accident. I—”
The martial ring pressed painfully.
“Your Shen family divorce paper means you are no longer part of the Shen household.
To outsiders, you are merely a discarded wife.”
The Emperor exposed her humiliation without restraint.
She lowered her gaze. Her lively eyes went lifeless, as if her soul had been drained.
To love Shen Jueming so dearly, a man unworthy of standing in public.
Before her stood the Emperor of Great Qian, revered by ten thousand, with countless seeking his favor.
And yet, she could be moved by a petty man who sold his wife for fame?
“Miaoyi, you have great audacity.” The Emperor’s anger rose.
“Your Majesty, I—”
“You dare to think of another man in my presence?”
“Why, Your Majesty…” She looked at him, tears brimming, silently pleading. She had done nothing but think of her ex-husband.
Fine.
“Miaoyi, today I will make you understand the consequence of thinking of another man in front of me.”
“I haven’t thought of anyone else.” She stared at the Emperor, stubborn. “I am now a member of the Jing family; to think of anyone is reasonable.”
“You…” The Emperor saw before him a delicate flower whose stubbornness rivaled her father’s.
“Thought of no one? What about me?”
Miaoyi pressed her lips, eyes moist. Even held in his arms, her body stiff as stone, refusing to yield.
“I only had a bond with Your Majesty. Even after divorce, I have no relation to you. Even if I want to think, I would only think—”
“Ah—” The Emperor interrupted her.
My head hurts, my heart aches, my ears hurt. I don’t want to hear it.
I am Emperor, ruler of the world. If I want it, I must have it.
Today, I will be that tyrant, imposing my will.
Without reason, he lifted her, carrying her to the inner chamber, placing her on the bed.
“Your Majesty, like this… I-I am afraid?” Miaoyi’s shoulders shivered, head lowered, hair falling across her face.
The proper demeanor of a noble lady quietly gave way to subtle charm.
She bit her lips, holding back her sobs, tears poised to fall—softening the Emperor’s previously resolute heart.
Indeed, he was a good Emperor for the common people, a rare wise ruler.
Father, why did you teach me to be so virtuous? If I had half your shamelessness, it would be over already.
He was still too moral.
He bent to kiss away the falling tears, holding her close, feeling her soft tremble, the scent of orchids brushing his nose.
“Miaoyi, do you like orchids?”
He rested his head on her neck. After days of urgent reports, his mind ached.
Orchids?
Her eyes darkened. “Yes. Back in Qingzhou, in Xiaoxiang Garden, Shen Lang found me white jade orchids.”
She spoke, and he tightened his hold around her waist.
The Emperor laughed, the unnamed fire in him burning anew.
“Miaoyi, your words can truly enrage.”
“I-I didn’t.” She lowered her gaze, fingers fidgeting.
Like a wronged little dog.
I am not wronged, yet she feels wronged.
Worried she might sacrifice herself for Shen Jueming, the Emperor restrained himself.
Such is the state of an Emperor and a favored woman.
Yet she was still distressed.
If it were anyone else, they would laugh in their dreams.
This woman was insatiably demanding.
But she was a woman of propriety, first mistakenly sent to my Dragon Throne, then given by her husband to the Duke, and finally divorced.
Such a string of blows naturally made her uneasy.
Fine, fine. She is my subject as I am her ruler.
“I understand.”
“Hm?” Miaoyi seemed to lag behind the Emperor’s train of thought.