After Losing My Memory, I Became My Rival's Palm-Sized Chirper - Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Touching Heaven and Earth

After drinking the Silver Moon Peach Blossom Dew that Yu Baixi had personally collected for him—perhaps because the sentiment behind the Heavenly Emperor’s gesture was so profound—Qi Jia felt his injuries recover significantly.

He went out for another stroll. For the time being, he couldn’t find anything in the Heavenly Realm quite like the Peach Blossom Dew to give Yu Baixi in return, so he decided to move on to the next item in his romance notes—

In the afternoon, the Heavenly Emperor returned from his duties and sat at his desk to handle memorials as usual.

The chubby little bird flapped his wings and flew in. Taking advantage of a gap in the other’s paperwork, he pushed a letter in front of him.

“…What is this?”

The Heavenly Emperor looked at the two large characters written on the envelope—”Love Letter”—and his pen came to a dead halt.

“It’s a love letter I wrote for you.” The little bird squatted obediently on the table. After speaking, he lowered his head in a show of shyness. “I wrote it by hand myself!”

Yu Baixi: “…”

In the afternoon twilight, the Heavenly Emperor’s long eyelashes dropped heavily, casting a shadow over his eyes. His expression remained devoid of joy or sorrow.

When his lashes lifted again, he reached out and placed the letter to the side.

“Aren’t you going to look at it?” Noticing his movement, the little bird tilted his head to ask.

“I will read it after I finish processing these urgent memorials,” Yu Baixi said. As he spoke, he wrote two words on the memorial in hand: Acknowledged (Read).

“Fine.” Qi Jia felt that as the Empress, he shouldn’t be someone who “cuts in line,” so he lightheartedly left the love letter on the Emperor’s desk.

He squatted by the table, watching Yu Baixi review the memorials.

Having spent so much time together, Qi Jia had noticed a pattern: the Heavenly Emperor’s replies were generally concise, usually consisting of only two responses: “Acknowledged” or “Denied.”

“Acknowledged” either meant permission was granted or served as a neutral acknowledgment—meaning he didn’t necessarily agree but didn’t object, simply noting that he was aware of the matter.

“Denied” meant exactly that.

As for other cases, it was either that a proposal wasn’t comprehensive enough and required the Emperor’s personal instructions, or it was a serious matter that went against his wishes… In these two scenarios, the first was manageable, but if it was the second… the Emperor wouldn’t even pick up his pen. Instead, he would summon the offending immortal or seek them out personally.

Regardless of the method, it was quite a test for the mental state of the immortal submitting the memorial.

In the Heavenly Realm, no one usually wanted a private audience with the Heavenly Emperor.

Qi Jia squatted on the table for a while. Finding that these urgent memorials were all regarding financial matters he had no interest in, he yawned and made his escape, no longer watching.

He hopped over to a small side table with his wings tucked, suddenly transformed into human form, and began practicing calligraphy on his own.

Ever since he had encountered ink and brush in the Emperor’s study, Qi Jia discovered that his handwriting was remarkably beautiful.

Whether writing in running script or regular script, his strokes were vigorous and powerful, possessing an air of elegance combined with a strong sense of presence.

What he appreciated was that Yu Baixi’s handwriting was also excellent.

When the Emperor made notes on memorials, he usually used a neat Zanhua small script. It appeared effortless, yet it was as graceful as a startled dragon, grand and vigorous.

…This made Qi Jia wonder if he had been some particularly accomplished scholar or artist in the past.

Otherwise, how could he—with no memory and no prior contact—easily distinguish the quality of someone’s handwriting?

With this thought, Qi Jia fell in love with writing. Every day, he would pull out a sheet of Xuan paper and leave behind some “masterpieces,” feeling that this was a way to reconnect with his past.

The study fell into silence for a while.

After finishing a complete page of powerful calligraphy, Qi Jia admired it for a moment before looking back at Yu Baixi with a smile.

By now, the Heavenly Emperor had finished the urgent memorials.

It looked like his love letter had also been read.

Qi Jia immediately turned back into the pale yellow bird and flew onto the Emperor’s table.

Seeing him approach, the Emperor naturally handed the envelope back to him.

Qi Jia: ?

He gave him the letter; why was the other returning it?…

Was Yu Baixi exchanging letters with him?

The round eyes of the yellow bird brightened instinctively.

In the dozens of sweet storybooks he had read, at least half featured plots where lovers sent letters back and forth.

But Qi Jia didn’t bring it up; he didn’t want to insist that Yu Baixi write him a reply.

Because if he said that, it might end up like the grooming or the peach blossom dew—where something he intended to do for the other ended up being something Yu Baixi did for him.

Regardless, since the other had “replied,” Qi Jia was happy to take a look.

He transformed back into human form, took the letter, and unfolded it.

He saw that the letter inside was still the one he had written to Yu Baixi.

The difference was that some red ink had been added to the blank space on the last page… in a beautiful Zanhua small script.

The Heavenly Emperor’s touch was brilliant and flowing. With a flourish of his vermilion pen, he had written two words:

“Acknowledged.”

Qi Jia: …?

“You, you, you… this, this, this…” Qi Jia was dumbfounded. After a long pause, he found a word to describe it: “This is too perfunctory!”

“How is it perfunctory?” Yu Baixi looked up at him.

Qi Jia: “This isn’t a memorial!”

Even if he was the Empress, this was a private love letter written by a bird to the Emperor. How could it still only have the words “Acknowledged”!

He immediately unfolded the letter again in front of the Emperor. The first line read, “Slender clouds perform arts, flying stars convey resentment,” confirming it was indeed the love letter he had penned.

Qi Jia couldn’t help but raise his voice: “Did you even read what I wrote? To such an obvious love letter, you actually replied ‘Acknowledged’? Truly, truly… you have no sense of romance!”

Yu Baixi, however, had a different opinion. He said slowly, “I have read the contents. It is indeed a love letter, though the first four lines are taken from ancient poetry, and the middle and final parts are from two different segments of the storybook you were reading, God Ancestor Bless Us, May We Last Forever.”

Qi Jia: “…?”

Qi Jia’s beautiful eyes wavered, his aggressive stance suddenly turning into guilt. “You… you remember all that…”

The Heavenly Emperor’s lips quirked slightly. “The excerpts were well-chosen.”

Qi Jia remembered that he had indeed brought that book to the Emperor yesterday.

As an immortal, if one reads with divine consciousness, one can indeed grasp the essence of a book in an instant.

But the problem was that Yu Baixi had only held it for a brief moment. Could a cursory reading really allow him to remember such detailed segments?… The content he copied was a letter written from one character to another; it didn’t take up much space in the book!

In short, Qi Jia occasionally felt that he probably wasn’t some literary scholar in the past.

Though his handwriting was beautiful, his head was empty—he even forgot words when he picked up the pen! He simply couldn’t think of a love letter to write to Yu Baixi on the spot.

He could only rely on the wisdom within books.

Copying wasn’t inherently a problem, but it was a bit embarrassing to have the recipient find out and precisely identify the source.

In that case, it was no wonder the other only replied with “Acknowledged.”

Qi Jia suddenly felt very frustrated. He curled his fingers, intending to crumple the two pages into a ball.

But before he could, Yu Baixi raised his hand faster. The two pages and the envelope flew into the Emperor’s palm. Meeting Qi Jia’s black eyes, Yu Baixi’s gaze flickered. “Keep them… even if it is a copy, you put heart into it.”

The Emperor’s voice suddenly became strained. His long fingers gripped the two pages tightly. After a moment of silence, he added, “Consider it practice for your composition. I will hold onto them for you for the time being.”

Qi Jia: …

Hearing him say this, Qi Jia’s eyes suddenly lit up!

Right! Even if it was a copy, isn’t the point of a love letter to convey one’s feelings between two people? It wasn’t meant for publication under his own name or to demonstrate literary talent, so why couldn’t he copy it?

Besides, he had gone to the trouble of finding a poem and two segments from a book to transcribe—how was that not putting heart into it!

The handsome young man with black hair and eyes suddenly said, “I understand what you mean. I truly can’t remember anything right now and have no literary talent, but don’t worry. When this Sovereign takes action, it will surely touch heaven and earth!”

Heavenly Emperor: ?…

However, the young man laughed heartily before turning back into the round bird. He flapped his wings and flew straight out the window, leaving only one sentence: “I’m going to the Library. You carry on with your work.”

And then he was gone.

Yu Baixi: …

The next day, after the morning court, the Heavenly Emperor returned to his study only to find that the stack of memorials on his desk had grown much thicker.

Since there were matters that required private discussion, the Prime Minister and several cabinet immortals had accompanied him. Yu Baixi asked casually, “Why are there so many memorials today?”

The Nine Heavens of the Heavenly Realm covered a vast area; Yujing alone occupied two million hectares. Even though the number of immortals was not large, the daily influx of memorials was usually like falling snowflakes.

Under these circumstances, ordinary memorials were first reviewed and approved by the cabinet immortals; only those deemed necessary for the Emperor’s attention were presented to him.

Thus, the cabinet immortals were the best suited to answer Yu Baixi’s question.

But this time, the officials looked at each other—because the memorials they had submitted today weren’t actually this numerous.

Reporting to Your Majesty, regarding those memorials at the bottom with the bright red brocade patterns, your servants have no recollection of them,” a cabinet immortal reported tremblingly.

Another official took the opportunity to say, “And those dark green ones, I also have no memory of them.”

Because the Heavenly Realm mostly favored plain white, and for millions of years the immortals from top to bottom had preferred simple colors, memorials presented to the Emperor would never feature such vibrant colors.

…Unless someone had cast an illusion on them, these were memorials that had not passed through the cabinet.

This made the situation even more serious—who would, or rather, who had the ability to bypass the cabinet and present so many memorials directly to the Emperor?…

“Could it be the Empress Junshang?”

The Prime Minister raised the question.

He was well aware that the Sovereign had been following the Emperor in the study these past few days to learn about administrative affairs.

Yu Baixi: “…”

Actually, even without the Prime Minister’s suggestion, the Heavenly Emperor had already considered this possibility.

And the phrase Qi Jia used yesterday—”touching heaven and earth”—suddenly flashed in his mind. After flying away yesterday, the little bird had been missing for the entire afternoon and evening, only flying back late at night, looking very mysterious.

Thinking back now, that had likely been a look of great satisfaction.

With this thought, Yu Baixi raised his hand and pulled two memorials from the pile the officials hadn’t seen. One was bright red, the other dark green.

On the bright red brocade cover, even the sash was red.

Perhaps because the red was so striking, the two large characters written in black ink were particularly eye-catching:

“Love Letter.”

Yu Baixi: “…”

Looking closely, beside those two large characters was a line of neat yet bold small script: “Heavenly Calendar Year 300,006,588, respectfully submitted by Empress Jia.”

The Officials: “…”

Yu Baixi didn’t open the memorial on the spot.

Instead, he gripped the memorial firmly, his fingertips turning white.

After a stunned moment, he steadied his breathing, pulled the bright red “Love Letter”—which was not a memorial at all—and tucked it against his palm. Then, he looked at the dark green one.

On the dark green cover, symbolizing dignity and nobility, the sash was still red.

The large characters on that one were equally striking:

“Still a Love Letter.”

Heavenly Emperor: “…”

The Officials: “…”

Seeing this, there was no need to explain the contents of the rest of the extra memorials. It was self-evident.

He guessed there would probably be one with handwriting saying, “Bet you didn’t expect this, still a love letter.”

The study was silent for a moment.

The Prime Minister was the first to laugh, praising: “The Empress Junshang is truly unexpected, spirited, and lovely. This old servant first congratulates Your Majesty on finding a good match, and second, celebrates the beautiful and deep affection between Your Majesty and the Sovereign.”

The other officials realized what was happening and hurried to follow suit, congratulating the Emperor. Some even praised the Sovereign for his thoughtfulness and noted how beautiful his handwriting was.

As the praise continued, the Prime Minister suddenly thought of something. Looking at the majestic Emperor, his eyes grew moist. “Setting aside everything else, for the Sovereign to hand-write so many love letters in a row, his admiration for Your Majesty truly touches heaven and earth and is as clear as the sun and moon. This old servant only feels relieved…”

The other officials followed in relief: “Clear as the sun and moon! Touching heaven and earth!”

Yu Baixi: