“Your Majesty?” Song Mingyue, standing outside, received no response. Summoning her courage, she pushed the door open.
The moment the door opened, Jing Miaoyi shrank like a startled rabbit, frightened as she hid in the Emperor’s arms.
Her soft body collided against the young Emperor’s chest, trembling uncontrollably. Her fingers clutched his robe so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her pale face lost all color in an instant. “Your Majesty, please save this subject’s wife.”
The Linhui Emperor looked down at the woman in his arms, tears falling like rain. Her delicate figure pressed against his chest, stirring boundless imagination.
Seeing how pitiful she looked only seemed to awaken a darker amusement within him.
His large hand stroked her trembling body. “Save you? What will you offer me in return?”
The moment his words fell, the room sank into a deathly silence.
Jing Miaoyi lifted her tear-reddened eyes, gazing at the Emperor with grievance.
“I…”
Though the Linhui Emperor had reigned for eight years, beneath his ruthless decisiveness still lingered a trace of youthful mischief.
“To me, this is nothing more than a passing dalliance. But to you…”
Hearing the approaching footsteps grow closer, her body trembled. With the resolve of someone facing death, she hooked her arms around the Emperor’s neck and pressed her lips to his.
At the side, Li Dequan instantly turned around, wishing he could gouge out his own eyes and deafen his ears.
Oh my ancestors, Your Majesty, what are you doing?!
What on earth is wrong with the Zhao family’s imperial tombs?
First, the founding emperor forcibly took his elder brother’s wife. Then Emperor Taizong seized one of the founding emperor’s consorts. And now—was His Majesty about to take a minister’s wife?
If that happened, those stubborn censors would be the first to submit memorials condemning him.
Song Mingyue looked toward the silhouette behind the floral screen, a charming smile appearing on her face as she adjusted her clothing. “Your Majesty, this subject’s daughter…”
She lifted the curtain before her, but before she could step behind the screen, a teacup was hurled straight at her.
“Insolent fool!”
The Emperor’s roar crashed like a tidal wave, frightening Song Mingyue into immediately dropping to her knees, not daring to raise her head. “Your Majesty, spare me! This subject’s daughter did not mean to intrude—please spare me!”
“Tell me who you are,” the Emperor said softly, his tone devoid of anger.
The fear in the young woman’s heart dissipated, replaced by a coquettish tone. “This subject’s daughter is Song Mingyue, daughter of Marquis Dingyuan.”
“So, the Marquis Dingyuan’s daughter. Quite lively, I see.”
“This subject’s daughter thanks Your Majesty for the praise.”
Praise?
You’re done for.
Li Dequan knew his young Emperor too well. Did she really think that was praise?
She wouldn’t even know how she died.
Still smiling—soon enough, she’d be crying.
As for Marquis Dingyuan, he must have grown senile. His title had been passed down for three generations, and fearing his son couldn’t hold onto it, he went to such lengths to push his daughter before the Emperor.
Daring to scheme against the Emperor—did he think his merits surpassed those of the regents who had been killed, exiled, or demoted?
“Send her to the Shuofang garrison. Make her a military prostitute.”
Song Mingyue’s body trembled before collapsing to the ground. “Your Majesty, what has this subject’s daughter done wrong?”
Li Dequan’s expression turned cold. “If Miss Song does not know, she may reflect on it along the road to Shuofang.” With a wave of his hand, guards rushed in and dragged her away.
“Your Majesty, I know my mistake—I know my mistake…”
The door closed, and silence returned once more. Only a single embroidered shoe she had dropped remained in the room.
Such was the Emperor’s ruthlessness.
“Your Majesty, I beg you to spare Miss Song.”
Jing Miaoyi knelt before him, bowing deeply with utmost sincerity.
The Linhui Emperor smiled faintly, his tone tinged with amusement. “A compassionate heart, I see.”
This was no praise.
Jing Miaoyi had already witnessed the Emperor’s unpredictable temper. Her plea was not out of pity for Miss Song.
“Miss Song… she may also be a pitiful person.”
“You mean to say I am cruel?”
“This subject’s wife would not dare.”
The beauty bowed low, her fair back revealing the perfect line of her spine, like a crescent moon—smooth, luminous, faintly tinged with pink, irresistibly alluring.
The Emperor idly turned the ring on his finger, his gaze sweeping over her body before settling into a mesmerizing smile.
Li Dequan, as the chief eunuch, knew exactly what that smile meant.
This woman… would not escape unscathed.
What a sin.
“Your Majesty, Marquis Dingyuan is her father, and she is his daughter. She had no choice.”
As if thinking of her own fate, she couldn’t help but sob again.
This woman was made of water—crying again.
I haven’t even said anything harsh.
The Emperor lifted her chin, his cool fingertips roughly wiping away her tears. “Why are you crying? You insinuate against me, yet before I even punish you, you start weeping. Do you expect me to comfort you?”
“No… that’s not it.” Jing Miaoyi let out a sorrowful cry. “Seeing Miss Song reminds me of myself.”
“The Duke Zhen is my husband’s superior and adoptive father. This matter…”
Suppressing her sobs, she pushed the Emperor away slightly. “This subject’s wife begs Your Majesty to spare Miss Song.”
The Emperor frowned. What had this Duke Zhen done? She sounded even more distressed than when she had been beneath him.
“I like those with kind hearts,” he said lightly. “How about this—do you want me to keep your secret, or do you want me to spare Song Mingyue? Choose one.”
“See? I am just as kind as you.”
He was the Son of Heaven. Whether thunder or rain, all was imperial grace. His mercy was not so easily obtained.
Jing Miaoyi looked at the man who held her life in his hands. Her face turned pale again and again. After a long moment, she suppressed the sorrow in her eyes.
“As a daughter-in-law, I am to enter the household and serve my father-in-law. Sooner or later, I will be ridiculed by the world.”
“If I can save an innocent woman’s life, it will at least count as a good deed.”
After speaking, she kowtowed heavily before the Emperor, then rose abruptly and rushed toward a pillar as if ready to die.
The Emperor was startled, quickly grabbing her wrist and pulling her back into his arms.
“You really are foolish,” he said, his handsome face and narrow phoenix eyes fixed intently on the tearful woman in his embrace.
“I have no desire to be recorded in history as a tyrant who drove a minister’s wife to death.”
Jing Miaoyi stared at him blankly, her clear, deer-like eyes shimmering with allure, easily stirring one’s heart.
“?”
“Madam Shen, His Majesty means that this matter will never be known to a third person.”
“Then… Miss Song?”
“You do know how to push your luck,” the Emperor said, tapping her forehead.
“His Majesty came today only to worship at the temple. When has he ever seen Miss Song?” Li Dequan explained.
His Majesty was being unusually agreeable today—he must be in a good mood.
Miss Song was fortunate.
“This subject’s wife thanks Your Majesty.” Jing Miaoyi grabbed her outer robe from the ground and hurriedly fled.
The Emperor looked at his now-empty hand. The faint orchid fragrance lingering on his fingertips made him suddenly feel that he had let go too easily.
“Investigate the Duke Zhen and Shen Jueming.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
When she stepped outside, she spotted Baozhu approaching from afar.
“My lady, you…” Baozhu pointed at Jing Miaoyi’s neck.
She adjusted her collar and took the handkerchief from Baozhu, wiping the sweat from her hands.
Who could truly grasp the Emperor’s temperament? She could only hope that today’s events would leave some impression in his mind.
“Let’s go back quickly. We mustn’t let Shen Jueming grow suspicious.”
Princess’s Residence.
“Your Highness, Princess Changle has returned.”
Behind a gauze curtain, the Eldest Princess slowly sat up from her bed.
“Didn’t she go to the Cui residence?”
“This servant does not know what happened at Chancellor Cui’s residence, but the Princess returned in tears.”
“Cui Hao has quite the nerve, daring to bully my daughter.”
Outside the curtain, Madam Wang dared not speak. She only saw the silhouette shift as the brocade quilt stirred, a hand extending outward.
“Your Highness need not be angry. Chancellor Cui is the Princess’s father—how could he tolerate her being wronged?”
The man rose, helping the Princess into her outer robe. “This subject will not disturb Your Highness and the Princess.”
The curtain was lifted. The young man stood, dressed in white, his face as refined as jade, his bearing elegant and gentle.
“Shen-lang, leaving in such a hurry—are you eager to see your delicate wife at home?”
The curtain parted fully, revealing the Princess in peach-colored garments, her seductive eyes fixed on the man kneeling before her.
Shen Jueming glanced toward the window, a flicker of impatience crossing his face.
“How could a rustic village woman compare to Your Highness, whose beauty crowns the world?”
The Eldest Princess Rong Chen smiled, pleased by his flattery. “I thought men preferred the young.”
Though well-maintained, traces of age could still be seen on her.
She was Emperor Taizong’s first daughter—now over forty.
Her eldest daughter was the same age as the man before her.
“If this subject did not admire Your Highness, why would I have sent her to my adoptive father?”
“Shen-lang, I do like your frankness.” The Princess lifted his chin with her jade-like foot.
Shen Jueming clenched his fists, burying the hatred in his heart. He was a dignified fifth-rank official, yet here he was, like a kept man in the Princess’s residence.
“You may leave.”
On a soft couch, a beauty reclined on her side, holding a book. The room was filled with the faint fragrance of orchids.
Her long hair cascaded down as the setting sun bathed her delicate face in golden light—like jade, like a treasure.
Shen Jueming entered quietly and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
“Miaoyi.” His hand stroked her palm, feeling her warmth.
This was his wife—the one he had vowed to cherish for a lifetime.
If not for the Eldest Princess interfering, how could he have endured serving an older woman?
His hand slipped beneath the thin fabric, resting on her slender waist.
Miaoyi was so beautiful—how could he willingly give her to another?
He lifted her into his arms. Before sending her to the Duke Zhen’s residence, he would make her understand who her husband was—who could truly give her pleasure.
Jing Miaoyi raised her hand and pushed him away. “Shen-lang, where have you been? You smell so fragrant.”
Shen Jueming’s expression froze.
In her previous life, she had smelled this fragrance too—so why hadn’t she seen through him?
Her lips curved into a cold smile.
No wonder he always looked exhausted, needing aphrodisiac incense even in their private moments. So he had been busy serving someone else.
“Shen-lang, why are your eyes darkened and your lips pale? You must be overworked.”
She beckoned to Baozhu. “Shen-lang, I specially prepared lotus seed soup for you. It clears heat and calms the body.”
“Miaoyi is thoughtful.” He said as he drank it.
Drink it—drink more. A man like you having children would only bring disaster.
“My lord, someone has arrived from the palace.”
The main hall was filled with people kneeling.
Li Dequan stood at the entrance with palace attendants behind him, holding a golden imperial decree.
“By the command of the Son of Heaven: Shen Jueming, a Ministry official, has submitted an excellent proposal. He is hereby promoted to Vice Minister of Personnel and awarded a pair of divine turtles.”
“This subject thanks Your Majesty.”
Li Dequan glanced at Jing Miaoyi kneeling to the side before looking back at Shen Jueming.
“Lord Shen has risen from a minor official to Vice Minister in just three years. Even the Eldest Princess mentioned you before His Majesty. Your future is indeed boundless.”
“These divine turtles were a gift from the Eastern Isles, called Ninja Turtles. Upon hearing the name, His Majesty immediately decided to bestow them upon you.”
“Lord Shen… do you understand the meaning behind His Majesty’s gift?”