I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 102

Jiang Fangsong rubbed his eyes in disbelief, looked at the palace wall, then rubbed them again.

The vermilion palace walls towered before them, mottled with the marks of time. Every morning on his way to court, he had passed through the South Gate — he was more than familiar with this wall.

Trembling, he walked up to it and placed his hand on the stone. The heavy, icy chill against his palm told him this was indeed the same familiar wall.

Jiang Fangsong turned back, dazed, and looked at Gong Hongbo. “M-my lord, can you see the palace gate?”

Gong Hongbo’s face was dark as water, brows knitted tight. “……”

Clearly, he could not.

Jiang Fangsong ran his hands up and down the wall, muttering, “How could this be? How could the gate be gone?”

Such a massive palace gate — even if it had sprouted wings, where could it have flown off to?

Could it be that His Majesty had already known of their plot to rebel, and had the gate dismantled beforehand? The thought drained all color from Jiang Fangsong’s face — then he suddenly slapped himself across the head. If His Majesty had truly known, troops would have been sent to seize them long ago. Why go through the trouble of dismantling a gate?

Besides, the gate hadn’t been dismantled. It had vanished into thin air.

What on earth was happening? Could it be they’d stumbled into some ghostly maze?

Gong Hongbo’s expression grew grim, his gaze bleak as he looked up at the city tower. To the Empress Dowager he said, “Elder Sister, could it truly be Heaven’s will… that His Majesty is the true dragon incarnate, under Heaven’s protection? If so, then let it be.”

The Empress Dowager’s hand clenched the armrest so tightly the veins stood out across her pale knuckles. She glared, hatred flashing in her eyes, and ground her teeth. “Heaven’s will? What nonsense! How could a gate simply disappear? This must be sorcery. Find it! A gate this size can’t just fly away. It must be here somewhere!”

At her command, a great column of soldiers marched along the towering wall, heading south to north, east to west — from under the bright moon to beneath the fading stars. After a long, endless circuit, they ended up back at the South Gate.

Up on the wall, Zhang Jin looked down at the circling men in dismay. So everyone was searching blindly for the missing gate too. That was… reassuring, at least.

Perhaps this was the perfect chance to confess to His Majesty. Maybe, by daybreak, the palace gate would reappear.

Jiang Fangsong collapsed onto the white jade bridge, panting, and waved a hand weakly. “Your Grace, let everyone rest a while. We’ve walked a full circuit and still haven’t found it. If we keep this up, the soldiers will collapse before we do.”

The Empress Dowager’s face darkened. “How can you speak of weariness? A troop of men, and you’re weaker than a frail woman like me?”

Jiang Fangsong fell silent. He glanced at the Empress Dowager’s sedan chair. Sitting comfortably like that, of course she didn’t feel tired.

But dare he say it aloud?

He swallowed the truth, and looked helplessly at Gong Hongbo. Gong Hongbo spoke up for him, and only then did the Empress Dowager reluctantly allow the troops to rest.

The soldiers sprawled out, watching the sky shift from deepest black to pale blue, then to white. In the distance, a rooster crowed.

Jiang Fangsong rubbed his stomach and couldn’t help saying, “Lord Gong, perhaps we should all go back for breakfast first and return to search afterward?”

The Empress Dowager immediately snapped, “Opportunity waits for no one! You may not go!”

Just then, a street vendor pushed his cart down the avenue.

Each morning, he arrived early to sell wontons, flatbreads, and rice balls to the officials heading to court.

But today, as he crossed the bridge, he realized something was amiss. He was suddenly surrounded by a pack of fierce, wolf-eyed soldiers, eyes gleaming green with hunger.

Following the delicious aroma, Jiang Fangsong lit up. “Boss, how many flatbreads do you have? We’ll take them all!”

“Coming right up!”

Jiang Fangsong tossed him a silver note. “And we’ll take the cart too. Now go!”

The vendor hesitated a moment, then said, “Alright!”

But of course, one cart of flatbreads was nowhere near enough to feed the entire army. Most soldiers were left hungry — and hunger made them restless.

Gong Hongbo tried again: “Elder Sister, why not end this now?”

The Empress Dowager’s eyes were bloodshot, her face twisted with madness. “End it? Do you think we can turn back now? This is sorcery — we’ll see how long it can last. By dawn, the gate may reappear!”

But dawn never came for them.

Hoofbeats thundered from behind, shattering the silence of Shengjing’s dawn.

Pei Jian had finally arrived, leading troops from Mulan Hunting Grounds, encircling the lot of them.

The young man wore a crimson robe embroidered with a fierce tiger. Mounted tall upon his horse, he looked down at the ministers and their troops. “Your Grace, honored sirs — let us return to the palace to face His Majesty.”

At his signal, soldiers surged forward, swiftly subduing Jiang Fangsong and the others.

Gong Hongbo’s face turned ashen. Knowing the game was over, he sighed and ordered his men not to resist, letting their weapons fall.

But the Empress Dowager was still defiant. “I am the Empress Dowager, Mother of the Nation! How dare a snot-nosed boy like you lay hands on me?”

Pei Jian only smiled. “Your Grace, please step down from the carriage.”

Her body shook with fury. “How dare you — how dare…”

Pei Jian ignored her. He ordered men to pull her from the sedan, then turned toward the palace gates — only to stop short.

Before him loomed the towering vermilion walls… but not the mighty palace gate.

He did what Jiang Fangsong had done earlier, reaching out to touch the wall. “Where… is the gate?” he muttered.

But he didn’t linger in confusion for long. With a sweep of his arm, he declared with great vigor, “We’ll march along the wall in a circuit — the gate must be somewhere!”

At once, Jiang Fangsong’s legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground. “Again? Please… not again! I beg you!”

Up on the wall, Zhang Jin poked his head out, watching the men below begin to circle once more. He took a bite of his cold bun, thinking: Pei the young general had arrived with troops. Clearly the coup was finished. Perhaps now was the time to go report to His Majesty. Maybe, just maybe, he could redeem himself and escape a nine-clan execution.

He pulled a colleague aside and whispered his idea. “If we hurry to declare our loyalty before they enter the palace, His Majesty may be pleased enough to spare us.”

His colleague frowned. “Redeem ourselves? For what crime?”

Zhang Jin darted his eyes nervously. “F-for colluding with the rebels, and opening the palace gate for them!”

“Did the gate open?”

Zhang Jin: …

Well, come to think of it…

Not only had the gate not opened — no one could even find where it was.

His colleague glanced at the circling mob below. “And this so-called coup — did they even manage to enter the palace?”

Zhang Jin was struck dumb again.

The colleague patted his shoulder. “At most, this counts as a brawl. But since no fight actually happened, it’s more like… a crowd gathering to walk in circles. They won’t chop heads off for that.”

Zhang Jin: … Somehow, that made perfect sense.

——

That night, for the master of the Yangxin Hall, was still absurdly long.

Yun Shao lay on the dragon bed, curled on her side, holding Wei Ying’s hand. Her long lashes drooped, hiding the turmoil in her eyes.

The night was deep. Candle flames flickered faintly, shrouding everything in a haze of unreality.

She had thought that Gong Hongbo and the Empress Dowager would not be able to restrain themselves and would storm the palace tonight. But she had waited and waited — why had they not come?

A flicker of confusion passed through Yun Shao’s gaze. Subconsciously, she leaned closer to Wei Ying, inhaling the familiar faint fragrance. Only then did her tense body ease.

Half-asleep, Wei Ying hugged the woman in her arms tighter. “Your Majesty?”

Yun Shao gave a soft hum of acknowledgment. Wei Ying chuckled, her sleepy voice husky: “Your Majesty should rest well, don’t make trouble.”

Yun Shao sighed. How could she possibly sleep?

If anything happened to Yingying — if she…

She thought of that day six years ago. At once, her hands and feet went ice-cold, as if plunged into a frozen abyss. That despair… every time she remembered, her heart split anew. It was like falling into a bottomless pit, cold wind screaming past her ears, her whole body stiff with frost, sinking, sinking, endlessly down…

How had she survived those six years without her teacher?

When she ascended the throne, her eyes instinctively searched the sea of faces for a familiar figure.
When she first read a memorial, the delicate brushstrokes on silk made her so uneasy she nearly rose to seek her teacher’s corrections.
That first autumn, the purple grapes in the courtyard covered the trellis like strings of amethyst. She washed them carefully, peeled one, and placed it on her tongue.

The grapes were as sweet as ever. But her smile was gone.

That suffocating grief once again filled her chest. She clutched Wei Ying tightly, as if only then she had something solid beneath her feet, no longer falling.

“Yingying,” she whispered.

Wei Ying’s lashes trembled. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled at the pale-faced emperor. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. Sleep soundly. Tomorrow you still have court.”

Yun Shao hesitated, then suddenly sat up. Pulling Wei Ying with her, she stepped off the bed.

Wei Ying, bleary-eyed, yawned. “Your Majesty, where are we going this late?”

“The Golden House,” Yun Shao replied.

Wei Ying blinked fully awake. “Eh? What for?”

Yun Shao looked back at her, her expression complex. In a low voice, she said, “The palace is too dangerous. I’ll take Yingying away first.”

Wei Ying made no protest, following quietly.

The secret passage lay behind the wardrobe in the Golden House. Yun Shao opened it, revealing a pitch-black tunnel. She gripped Wei Ying’s sleeve tightly.

Wei Ying peeked her head in. “Wow, there really is a passage! Though without any kind of mechanism or trap — isn’t that a bit too obvious? And what about ventilation? There aren’t poisonous gases inside, are there? You won’t be poisoned walking through?”

Curious, she ran her hands along the entrance, about to step in — when she was suddenly yanked back.

“Your Majesty?”

Wei Ying turned. Yun Shao was staring at her silently.

The emperor stood in the lamplight, the warm glow falling across her shoulders. Yet though she was bathed in light, her face seemed shadowed — only her dark eyes shone, frighteningly bright.

“Does Yingying truly want to leave?” Yun Shao asked softly.

Wei Ying blinked. “Your Majesty?”

“You looked so happy just now…” Yun Shao’s grip on her sleeve tightened. “If Yingying goes… will you come back?”

Wei Ying was stunned. Happy? She had only been intrigued by the crude little passageway.

“Don’t overthink,” she sighed, trying to pull her sleeve free.

She tugged once — no use.

A second time — still no use.

Wei Ying: …

A sheen of tears covered Yun Shao’s eyes. “So Yingying truly does want to leave, don’t you? And… you’ve remembered the past, haven’t you?”

Wei Ying frowned. “What nonsense, of course not.”

Yun Shao blinked slowly, her long lashes trembling. “That box… you opened it, didn’t you?”

Wei Ying was silent a moment, then chuckled. “What box?”

Yun Shao leaned closer, resting her chin on Wei Ying’s shoulder. In her ear she whispered, “There was a strand of hair in that casket. It’s gone. Yingying, you opened it, didn’t you?”

Wei Ying: ???

“Your Majesty, are you playing some kind of spy game?”

For a moment Yun Shao was left speechless. She took two deep breaths before asking quietly, “Yingying… you remember, don’t you?”

Wei Ying: “Your Majesty, what do you think I remembered?”

Yun Shao’s lips pressed white. Her voice shook. “Guiyun Mountain…”

Her eyes were red, the tiny mole by her hairline half-hidden. Speaking those four words seemed to drain her completely.

Wei Ying blinked. “Oh, isn’t that the phrase people use when they want to retire together in seclusion? Back then, I must have loved Your Majesty very much, right? The maple leaves had scorch marks — the rest must have been burned in that great fire.”

Yun Shao’s eyes widened. She stared blankly at Wei Ying.

Wei Ying: “Am I right?”

Yun Shao clenched her fists and nodded rapidly. “Yes… yes. Yingying, you’re exactly right.”

Wei Ying arched a brow. “Then why did Your Majesty’s eyes redden just now when you spoke of it? What did you think I remembered?”

Flustered, Yun Shao wiped at her eyes. After a long pause, she said softly, “I thought… I thought you’d remembered that…”

Wei Ying folded her arms, watching the flash of panic on her face. “Well? Remembered what?”

Yun Shao’s cheeks flushed. In a tiny voice she said, “If I tell you, you mustn’t laugh.”

Which only made Wei Ying more curious.

Tilting her head, she smiled. “I won’t laugh, I promise. Quickly now.”

Yun Shao whispered, voice barely audible, “Six years ago, once… I deliberately stood in the rain, caught a chill, and pretended to have a fever — just so I could climb into Yingying’s bed. I was… trying to seduce you.”

Wei Ying raised a brow. “And? Did it work?”

Yun Shao instinctively shook her head, then nodded.

Wei Ying chuckled. “Silly girl.” After a pause, she added in the faintest voice, meant only for herself: “Little liar.”

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