I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 43

Recently, Yun Shao’s responsibilities had decreased significantly.

With Gong Hongbo’s return to the capital, the former ministers loyal to the Gong family began to stir, and resistance to the new policies was increasing.

The previous emperor had been reckless and neglected governance. For decades, the court had been controlled by the Gong family and other aristocratic in-laws, forming an unbreakable fortress in the palace. To create even a small breach, it was necessary to implement reforms and recruit new talent, preferably from humble backgrounds.

The emperor set down the vermilion brush, exhausted, and closed her eyes, rubbing her aching forehead.

Even in such a busy and tense time, she longed to see the girl in the cold palace… the thought was almost maddening, as if a part of her heart were missing, only to be completed by seeing her.

—Thinking of the girl, Yun Shao’s heart ached faintly, unable to rest. She picked up the memorials again to continue attending to state affairs.

The girl was still suffering in the cold palace, so how could she stop? Perhaps only when she truly ruled the realm could she protect her safely.

A few days later, Yun Shao could no longer suppress her longing. After court, she made a detour to Anle Hall.

She looked around at the surroundings. Anle Hall, located in a remote corner of the palace, had always been desolate. The previous emperor had established it to confine neglected concubines, who endured loneliness, hunger, and cold—it was a very harsh experience.

The palace always had countless ways to torment people, and Anle Hall was one such method.

Anle Hall was far from “peaceful.” Those who had stayed there would say life there felt like a year per day.

Thinking of what the girl might be going through, Yun Shao furrowed her brows. Her watery eyes glimmered faintly, a veil of melancholy settling over her expression.

She stood behind a large tree, tilting her head toward the secluded palace garden bathed in the sunset. The cold palace, with its broken walls, was tinged with golden light; sparse vegetation grew nearby, and even the wind felt bitter.

Yun Shao’s brows knit further, a look of tender pain appearing in her eyes as she murmured, “She truly is suffering.”

Fushou, standing nearby with her hands tucked away, watched the emperor lost in thought. She felt the urge to speak but restrained herself, thinking, She will understand soon enough.

The emperor hid in the shadows of the tree, her emotions churning, her gaze deep. After a while, she finally calmed, pulling away from that strangely homesick anxiety, and stepped forward—then quickly retreated.

Two young palace maids emerged from Anle Hall, chattering lightly.

Yun Shao thought they were probably palace maids of Anle Hall.

She had come quietly, not wanting to draw attention, and pressed herself behind the tree to wait for them to leave. Their crisp laughter reached her ears, and her frown deepened.

“Half-immortal is amazing! Last time she told me where my key fell, and sure enough, it was in the corner by the wall—she’s like a magician!”

The other said, “The divine doctor is amazing too. A few years ago, I hurt myself washing clothes in winter. My joints ached every cold day, but after using her medicine, I haven’t felt pain in ages. That was my happiest winter!”

“If only they could stay here longer, that would be wonderful.”

“Yes, I hope the palace lady keeps her promise!”

Hearing this, Yun Shao was confused, recognizing only the term “palace lady.”

Had Gong Beinu been here?

Her brow furrowed as countless scenarios of the unfortunate girl being bullied by Gong Beinu ran through her mind, her hands clenching.

But who were the “divine doctor” and “half-immortal”?

She had many small question marks floating above her head. When their footsteps faded, she stepped out again—then quickly retreated.

—More people came.

Two elder maids strolled slowly, chatting.

“This place hasn’t been so lively in years.”

“Yes, when the previous emperor was alive, so many concubines feared coming to Anle Hall.”

“Thanks to the two nobles, it’s finally lively again.”

“The nobles are so kind, curing my chronic cold legs without taking any money, truly living saints.”

Yun Shao leaned against the tree, her expression slightly dazed. She glanced at Fushou, who lowered her head silently, the corners of her lips curling faintly.

Divine doctor? Half-immortal? Could it really be them?

The emperor’s rare expression revealed a childlike confusion, unconsciously wringing her sleeves before letting them fall. Her thoughts were crowded, as if something blocked her from speaking. When the maids left, she slowly stepped out from behind the tree—then retreated again.

Anle Hall had been bustling, leaving the emperor no chance to move forward. This cold palace was not so cold, perhaps even warm.

Yun Shao quietly stood in the shade, sunlight fragmented by dry branches, falling upon her. Her expression was serene, though her eyes seemed to hold suppressed, swirling emotions. After a long while, she pressed her brow and sighed softly.

Fushou glanced at the constant flow of palace people outside and whispered, “Your Majesty, the two nobles are doing well. Perhaps you should rest and visit them later?”

Yun Shao shook her head, a faint smile on her lips—

She should have realized: with their abilities, no matter where they went, they would thrive.

They had always been like this, never needing anyone’s worry.

Yet she still longed to see them again; the emptiness in her heart clamored relentlessly. She finally could no longer resist and stepped from the shadows, moving toward Anle Hall.

By then, the light had dimmed; it was dusk. The last batch of palace maids had left, and the cold palace returned to its usual quiet.

It seemed as if the previous bustle had been just a fleeting, beautiful dream.

Yun Shao stood at the entrance, staring at the girl.

She sat in a chair, leaning slightly, reaching for a snack. Hearing footsteps, she did not look up and said, “That’s enough for today. Come early tomorrow.”

Yun Shao said nothing. The thunderous noise in her ears, the emptiness in her heart, was finally filled upon seeing her.

Just one meeting, and her restless heart felt calm, though soon it began clamoring again, wanting to be even closer.

She silently crossed the courtyard and arrived under the eaves.

Wei Ying stuffed a cake into her mouth, waiting for a response. Curious, she looked up and saw the emperor wrapped in a bright yellow dragon robe, standing silently before her.

Their eyes met, and both froze for a long moment.

Wei Ying crunched on her snack, tilting her head in confusion. Why did the dog emperor suddenly appear? And why does he look so scary, like he wants to eat me?

The silence was broken when Xiao Qianxue emerged from the inner room with a loud “Long live Your Majesty!”

Wei Ying casually joined the greeting, still relaxed.

Yun Shao nodded slightly but continued to gaze at her.

Xiao Qianxue asked, “Your Majesty, why are you here?”

Wei Ying blinked, “Are you here to get a plaster too?”

“I’ll get it for Your Majesty,” Xiao Qianxue chirped, lifting her skirts and rushing inside, leaving only Wei Ying and the emperor in a staring contest.

Xiao Qianxue returned quickly with a bundle of plasters.

“Your Majesty, your plaster!”

Yun Shao paused, then said, “I don’t need it.”

Xiao Qianxue tilted her head, mirroring Wei Ying’s expression.

Wei Ying asked, “Then why are you here?”

Yun Shao clenched her hands.

She wanted to say: I was worried about you, couldn’t sleep at night… but you’re here eating, drinking, and playing, and even looking a bit fuller.

She wanted to say: Last time, confining you to the cold palace was a temporary measure, so don’t blame me.

She wanted to say: I waited outside all afternoon, and your room was so busy… did you think of me at all?

But in the end, she closed her eyes, her delicate lashes trembling slightly, and said only, “I came to see you… all.”

Wei Ying: “Oh.”

Xiao Qianxue nodded, echoing, “Oh—”

Yun Shao suddenly didn’t know what to say. Her misty eyes glanced at Wei Ying, who blinked, her peach blossom eyes curling slightly at the corners, hints of pink on her cheeks, utterly captivating.

Indeed, she had gained a bit of weight. Her previously pale, thin frame had gradually regained color and vitality, her figure slender yet graceful, her skin fine as cream, radiant and striking. Like a piece of raw jade, with rough surfaces gradually polished away, shining ever brighter.

Yun Shao’s cheeks warmed as she murmured, “Looking good… a bit rounder.”

Wei Ying’s pupils practically shook.

Rounder? Rounder? Rounder?

Had she been hiding in Anle Hall, indulging in the cold palace, neglecting her figure?

Tch, dog emperor! Even if I gained weight, you can’t just say it straight!

Her heart ached.

Yun Shao met her gaze, then suddenly looked away, saying, “Then I shall leave.”

With that, she turned quickly, her steps somewhat hurried, like a defeated general fleeing the battlefield.

Xiao Qianxue scratched her head. “Why did Your Majesty come here? Is it concern for us?”

Wei Ying grumbled, “Is he so free that he comes just to pester us?”

Xiao Qianxue tilted her head, curious. He’s handsome and kind… why doesn’t Ying Ying like him?

Hearing this, Wei Ying paused, then smiled. “If your bowl fell and broke, what would you do?”

Xiao Qianxue tilted her head. “What else? Just get a new one.”

Does that relate to liking the emperor?

Wei Ying smiled, ruffling her head. “But people aren’t like… never mind. I heard Nian Peng released a new storybook; read it to me later.”

Xiao Qianxue immediately shifted focus.

Nian Peng’s new story remained pure and delicate, finely written with clever plot and subtle heartbreak.

Wei Ying was very pleased, her only dissatisfaction: in the story, Duan Xiaoying remained the submissive one.

Sigh, just another storybook.

She turned over, deciding to sleep, and dreamt.

In her dream, she sat on a flowering tree. Below stood a child, about eight or nine, eyes watery and bright, on the verge of tears.

The child was beautiful, pale, with delicate brows slightly drooping, eyes seemingly always brimming with tears. She wore a lotus-colored dress, holding a thick Di Fan, stumbling over lines; before being scolded, tears fell.

“Teacher… I still don’t know it… sob.”

The woman bent down and whispered a few words; petals and leaves fell.

The child’s eyes brightened, tears still wet, breaking into a smile. “I want to go out! Will you really let me, teacher? You’re my favorite teacher!”

…

Upon waking, Wei Ying pondered the dream briefly, then let it go—after all, she was a mission agent, experienced in many worlds, not remembering ever meeting such a beautiful girl.

She had no attachment to the mission world; once a mission was complete, she left without a trace—but keeping many rewards.

The girl in the dream had been too beautiful; who knew how she would grow up?

Wei Ying spent ten seconds reminiscing the dream before lying back, continuing to read the storybook with Xiao Qianxue.

She reflected on the emperor’s remark “a bit rounder,” her heart aching faintly. She pinched the soft flesh on her belly, thinking it was due to overwork.

It was all because she had been working too hard recently.

So she and Xiao Qianxue took a few days off, using the time to read the new storybooks released in Shengjing.

In the blink of an eye, it was the day when the virtuous consort sent supplies.

Wei Ying and Xiao Qianxue, like anxious hamsters awaiting feeding, each held a pile of sunflower seeds on the steps, chomping away, eyes straining. Finally, a cart bringing delicacies arrived.

It wasn’t anyone else—it was the virtuous consort.

The consort had lost weight, her eyes dark and shadowed, looking like she hadn’t slept, yet her spirit was good.

Xiao Qianxue worried she wouldn’t even enjoy the treats. “Your Highness, why do you look so weary? Haven’t slept at night again?”

The consort held their hands, smiling, “It’s fine, not a big problem.” She paused, “At least, my hard work has borne fruit.”

Xiao Qianxue asked, “Hard work, fruit? What have you been doing?”

The consort just smiled, “Nothing.”

Wei Ying sensed something was off, especially when the consort made them hold hands together after some gentle insistence. She was almost certain: something was wrong with the virtuous consort.

“Are you doing well here?”

Xiao Qianxue nodded eagerly. “Very well, especially well.”

The consort scanned the room: clean, well-furnished, no less than Yulu Hall, gifts piled on the windowsill, treats sent by palace cooks—full plates, abundant.

Even the emperor might not be living this well.

Seeing their slightly rounder faces, the consort finally relaxed. “Looks like you’re truly well.”

Xiao Qianxue covered her face, giggling foolishly.

The three sat inside, enjoying tea and pastries, talking about shared interests.

Xiao Qianxue took out a storybook: “You read Nian Peng’s new work too, right? Very good!”

The consort smiled faintly, “Is it?”

Xiao Qianxue nodded, Wei Ying playing along. Both showered the consort with praise, delighting her, making her smile and nod.

The consort sipped tea, quietly saying, “The year-end approaches, it’s cold. Be careful of your health; is your heating sufficient?”

Wei Ying: “Never lacking.”

The consort nodded, adding, “Too bad we won’t see you at the New Year banquet.”

Wei Ying smiled, “The real pity is not getting your dumplings.”

The consort ruffled their hair, “No worries, I’ll send some dumplings over.”

As they were leaving, Xiao Qianxue asked, “If Qianqiu Yue releases a new storybook, can you have someone send us two copies?”

Wei Ying also looked expectantly, eyes shining.

The consort’s smile faded slightly. After a moment, she said, “Don’t you like Nian Peng the most?”

Xiao Qianxue: “Yes! We both do!”

Wei Ying: “They are like our wings.”

Xiao Qianxue: “Why wings?”

Wei Ying: “Because they help us soar in the literary sky!”

Xiao Qianxue applauded, “Ying Ying, you’re so cultured, you said it perfectly.”

Seeing them joking, the consort’s eyes showed a hint of hurt, turning away, her back exuding desolation.

Xiao Qianxue watched her leave, puzzled. “Why does she look unhappy?”

Wei Ying patted her shoulder. “Maybe it’s too cold; it’s not our fault.”

“You’re right!”

Days passed in light-hearted fun, spreading love and peace. Time flew by. One morning, the world was blanketed in silver, the first snow of the year covering the palace.

Snow symbolized a bountiful year; even old maids rarely leaving the palace smiled at the falling snow, anticipating next year’s harvest.

Xiao Qianxue leapt into the snow like an unleashed husky.

Wei Ying, bundled tightly, peeked out to watch, unexpectedly hit by a snowball.

“Ying Ying, come play!” Xiao Qianxue laughed, holding a snowball.

Wei Ying refused, calling Green Wax to help retaliate, then made tea and hugged a heater by the window, watching the girls play and enjoy the scenery, their crisp laughter accompanying the snow.

Her thoughts returned to the original story: on the first snow, the emperor came to see the heroine.

That snowy night, he met her at the palace’s highest pavilion, spoke much, and expressed many feelings. The supreme emperor revealed vulnerability for the first time, causing the heroine’s heart to stir, pledging to stand by him and share responsibility for the empire.

This was the key romantic moment of the story.

Previously, Wei Ying had prevented Fushou from helping, letting the emperor see that they were thriving in the cold palace. Following the story’s logic, the dog emperor would surely appear.

Sure enough, in the afternoon, the emperor, draped in a fox-fur cloak, arrived at Anle Hall.

Yun Shao, wrapped in a silver fox fur coat with a white fur collar, looked even more radiant, her brows deepened, likely due to some maternal Hu ancestry, her lips subtly conveying a thinly veiled aloofness.

In the snow, with black hair flowing and no gold or jade adornments, she appeared like a snow goddess, elegant and tranquil.

Xiao Qianxue didn’t recognize the emperor at first. “Ying Ying, look, where did this beautiful person come from?”

Wei Ying, hugging the heater, recalled her mission brief:

“Prevent the emperor from taking the heroine to the Star-picking Tower at night to fulfill the snowy night romantic plot. Rewards: Integration +10, Constitution +10, one card draw chance (guaranteed blue card). Extra completion yields an additional system reward.”

Wei Ying blinked, “Extra completion? Additional reward?”

The palace battle system explained: if she could complete parts of the story instead of the heroine, she would receive a New Year gift as a reward.

Wei Ying, touched, declined.

She stepped into the snowy world, calling on her purple card [Contrary to Wishes]—previously obtained with the suction device.

She squinted, lashes sprinkled with snow, seeing the beautiful figure in the distance, thinking: *I am always generous

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