I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 106

Wei Ying clung to the emperor, soft and boneless as if she had melted into her arms, smiling sweetly:

“Your Majesty and the Duke of the State should go on discussing business, just pretend I’m not here.”

Yunshao, still clutching the bundle and unwilling to let go, even softened her tone, speaking gently with Gong Hongbo about trivialities.

Gong Hongbo, having just returned from the gates of hell, his forehead covered in cold sweat, knew very well that the moment Wei Ying left, the emperor would shed this façade of warmth and leniency and reveal the tyrant beneath.

He knew he was doomed, but if his death could at least secure a way out for his two daughters, then so be it.

With that in mind, he bowed and knelt.
“Your Majesty, I hear the frontier is in dire straits. Supplies and weapons are lacking. The Ministry of Works has just forged a new batch of arms. I beg permission to personally deliver them to the northern front.”

Yunshao fixed her gaze on the kneeling man for a long while without answering.

Wei Ying fluttered her lashes.
“Ah, but the battlefield is so dangerous! Blades and arrows have no eyes. Better that uncle-in-law doesn’t go.”

Gong Hongbo slowly closed his eyes and said in a low voice:
“A true man can give his life for the country.”

Wei Ying clapped her hands.
“Wow, so brave!”

Yunshao tilted her head, gave Wei Ying a faint smile, and said,
“Then so be it. Once you’ve delivered the arms and provisions, you shall remain there to oversee the troops.”

Kneeling, Gong Hongbo bowed deeply.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for your boundless grace.”

Wei Ying lowered her gaze and asked softly:
“Before leaving the capital, would you like to visit Consort Shu and the Lady of Brightness? You’ll be gone for so long; surely they’ll miss you.”

Gong Hongbo’s body trembled slightly. With his head lowered, his expression could not be seen.

After a long pause, he finally replied:
“No need. My ladies are kind-hearted. I must trouble you, Your Ladyship, to look after them henceforth.”

By the time Wei Ying and Yunshao left the Gong residence, the sky had already darkened, and lanterns lit the streets.

They walked together to the top of the city wall and looked down at the sea of lights below. Groups of young scholars, flushed with wine, spilled out of teahouses and taverns, singing loudly, brimming with youthful pride.

Wei Ying pressed her hands against the wall, pushed off, and sat on top of it.

Yunshao, alarmed, clutched at her sleeve.
“Yingying, be careful, don’t fall!”

Wei Ying curved her eyes into crescents and teased:
“If I fall, Your Majesty will catch me, right?”

Yunshao, even more nervous, gripped her tightly as if facing a deadly peril, nodding hard.
“Yes!”

Wei Ying tilted her head back, gazing at the river of stars. The night wind lifted her skirts, the gauze rippling like water. She smiled.
“Your Majesty, let me teach you the stars.”

Afraid she might fall, Yunshao loosely circled her waist with her arms.
“…Alright.”

Wei Ying leaned back into her arms without worry, lying against her. She raised her hand and pointed to a small, unremarkable star in the Milky Way.
“Look, that one is our star.”

“Our star”—those words made Yunshao’s heart jolt. She held her tighter, taking a deep breath.

Wei Ying turned, rubbing her cheek against Yunshao’s soft skin.
“Your Majesty, why don’t we give it a name?”

Yunshao blinked in confusion, her voice careful.
“You want me to name it?”

Wei Ying beamed.
“Yes!”

Yunshao thought seriously for a long while.
“But…I haven’t thought of one yet.”

Wei Ying kissed her.
“No rush. You can take your time—there’s still plenty of time ahead.”

The following month passed for Wei Ying in sheer boredom.

The Virtuous Consort took over the Empress’s duties of managing the six palaces, with Lady Li assisting at her side. Neither had time to accompany her. The Gong sisters were confined in Longhua Hall, and whenever Wei Ying tried climbing the wall to visit, she was denied entry.

Even Gong Benu seemed to sense something and avoided her.

The emperor herself was busy with the palace examination, recruiting new talents, and meeting ministers until late at night.

Thus, within the vast palace, only Wei Ying remained—like a salted fish, lying on her lounge chair, occasionally flipping over with a flutter.

Wei Ying sighed, feeling lonely, empty, and cold.

“This world is so unfair,” she told Palace-Fight Ji sadly, clutching her chest. “I used to bring warmth to so many people. Now, not a single person warms me!”

Palace-Fight Ji: …

Wei Ying: Sob. I feel like I can’t love anymore.

Her only solace came in the form of letters from Xiao Qianxue.

In her letter, Xiao Qianxue wrote that they had safely arrived in Yunzhou and met old General Pei. The Noble Consort had once again donned her armor and returned to the battlefield. Xiao Qianxue, after reuniting with her family, also planned to join the army alongside the consort.

She even sent Wei Ying some local gifts—Yunzhou wool felt for her to stitch when bored, along with packets of preserved dried fruit cakes.

But she said little about the actual war.

Wei Ying couldn’t rest easy. In the book, the great defeat and ambush would happen soon. She would only know whether the story had truly changed when that moment came.

Still, with the Noble Consort gone from the capital, there would be no cold palace exile, no assassination at a banquet, no tragic death, nor the heroine’s descent into darkness.

Half a month later, once the palace exams ended, a grand banquet was held to celebrate the new scholars. Bored, Wei Ying dragged along the Virtuous Consort to join in the fun.

The Virtuous Consort rubbed her shoulder and sighed.
“I wonder where the Empress has gone. These palace matters are so troublesome to handle. Yingying, you should hurry and learn palace affairs to help me.”

Wei Ying laughed.
“How would I know how?”

The Virtuous Consort snorted softly.
“What don’t you know? You know everything—you just won’t put in the effort.”

Wei Ying spread her hands.
“I’m just a little salted fish.”

The Virtuous Consort smiled helplessly, then looked ahead. The imperial garden glowed with lanterns and music. She stopped walking.

Wei Ying tugged her forward.
“Why stop? Let’s go, c’mon.”

The Virtuous Consort hesitated.
“But we are consorts. How can we go over there?”

Wei Ying didn’t care.
“Why not? If I say we can, we can!”

The Virtuous Consort: “…” Dragged along, she whispered,
“People will gossip.”

Wei Ying:
“Let them! Whoever gossips, the emperor will dismiss them!”

She was a demon concubine, after all—of course she could do as she pleased.

“Oh, by the way, I heard the top scholar this year is extraordinary—caused quite a stir during the palace exam.” Wei Ying turned back with a mischievous smile. “We can ignore the others, but how can we not see the champion?”

The Virtuous Consort’s curiosity was piqued.
“How extraordinary?”

Wei Ying tilted her head, thought for a moment, and said:
“He wrote an essay that shook the whole capital. Pure as snow in white robes, a talent unmatched, and handsome as an exiled immortal. They say when he rode through the streets, countless hearts swooned!”

The Virtuous Consort, too busy lately to know much of outside affairs, was delighted by this description. Her eyes lit up with admiration and joy.
“Such a man now serves Her Majesty? That’s wonderful! What’s his name?”

Wei Ying’s eyes curved in amusement.
“Yue Zhengming.”

The Virtuous Consort clapped her hands.
“To contend with the sun, to contend with the moon—such a magnificent name! Yingying, let’s go sneak a peek. But we must hide well, lest we be seen.”

The two of them slipped into the flowerbeds, crouching low among the leaves, peering through gaps at the young men flush with triumph.

The newly-minted scholars in their blue robes lifted their cups, laughing and toasting, glowing with success.

The Virtuous Consort looked east to west, west to east, searching for the champion’s red robe, but could not find it.

Puzzled, she tugged Wei Ying’s sleeve.
“Yingying, where is the top scholar?”

Wei Ying chuckled softly.

At that moment, the Virtuous Consort felt a tap on her shoulder. Instinctively, she turned—and her gaze fell upon crimson robes.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes and saw a face she knew too well.

She cried out in shock and delight:
“Elder Sister Empress! Why are you here? You’ve returned!”

Yue Qinghui’s brows arched gently as she nodded.

Then the Virtuous Consort realized something was wrong. She stepped back, carefully examining Yue Qinghui’s attire.

Scarlet robe with a round collar, white undergarment, a slim waist bound with a silver belt, from which hung a long jade pendant.

It was the official uniform of the top scholar.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

Across from her, the figure stood bathed in moonlight, crimson robes blazing—contending with the sun, contending with the moon.

Yue Qinghui:
“What’s this? Don’t you recognize me?”

The Virtuous Consort stammered:
“Your Ladyship, why…why are you wearing this outfit?”

Wei Ying stood up, joining them by the pond apart from the crowd, smiling.
“Don’t call her Ladyship anymore. At the palace exam, she personally divorced the emperor.”

Yue Qinghui corrected calmly.
“It was a mutual separation.”

Wei Ying shrugged.
“Fine—separation.”

The Virtuous Consort recalled how the Empress had always seemed busy. So it wasn’t writing stories like herself, but serious study—preparing for the exams. Heat rose to her cheeks in shame. Yet when she glanced at Wei Ying, lazing like a true salted fish, she felt less embarrassed.

She might not be as diligent as the Empress, but at least she was better than Wei Ying!

Still, she was confused.
“But Your Ladyship—”

Yue Qinghui interrupted:
“No longer ‘Ladyship.’”

The Virtuous Consort bit her lip.
“Lord Yue, then?”

Yue Qinghui laughed, amused.
“Call me elder sister, as always.”

Blushing, the Virtuous Consort lowered her head.
“…Elder sister, why choose this path? Wasn’t life in the palace good enough? As Empress, your position was supreme, second to none. This path—so hard. No woman has ever stepped into officialdom before. It will be fraught with hardship. Why must you do this?”

Yue Qinghui thought for a while before replying:
“Ah Wu, your talent is no less than any man’s. Would you truly accept a life of obscurity, without even a line in the history books?”

The Virtuous Consort twisted her fingers nervously.
“But what else can there be? I’m only a woman. To marry the most exalted man alive—that’s already the best fate one could hope for. That’s what they all say.”

Yue Qinghui asked in return:
“And because ‘they all say,’ does that make it true?”

The Virtuous Consort fell silent.

Yue Qinghui smiled.
“Perhaps I simply refuse to live in another’s shadow. If history were only to record me as ‘Empress Yue,’ would that be enough? Since no precedent exists, then let me be the first. Every beginning is difficult, but all things must begin somewhere, mustn’t they?”

Her eyes shone brightly, piercing to the heart. Overwhelmed, Cui Wu turned her head away, unable to bear that brilliance.

After a long while, she murmured:
“Elder sister, you shine so brightly…surely many will follow you.”

Yue Qinghui laid a hand on her shoulder, then stood and gazed up at the moon.
“I don’t want followers. I want companions who will stand beside me.”

Cui Wu’s heart trembled, dazed for a long time. She didn’t even notice Yue Qinghui leaving.

“Virtuous Consort?” Wei Ying waved her hand in front of her face several times until she blinked back to herself, staring blankly.

Wei Ying laughed.
“What had you in such a daze?”

The Virtuous Consort shook her head, saying nothing, her eyes tinged with sorrow. She whispered:
“So the Empress will never return.”

Wei Ying nodded casually.
“Right, don’t expect her back to share the work. From now on, the palace affairs are all on you.”

The Virtuous Consort froze, eyes wide in shock.

If the Empress never returned, then she herself would be like an old ox, plodding and toiling forever, burdened with the six palaces’ affairs. She had thought this was temporary—that she only needed to hold on until the Empress came back. Now it was a life sentence.

Tears burst from her eyes.
“Waaah! No! The Empress must come back! I can’t bear this alone—waaah!”

Wei Ying patted her back.
“There, there, don’t cry, my lady. It’s just work. You’ll get used to it. Didn’t the Empress manage like this before?”

The Virtuous Consort clung to Wei Ying’s sleeve, sobbing like a pear blossom in the rain, choking out:
“And that’s why she left!”

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