I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 44

The year’s end arrived drifting in with the pure winter snow.

The world was draped in white frost; overnight, icicles formed on the trees, glittering in the sunlight like a spectrum of colors.

Wei Ying had completed several missions, and her constitution had nearly returned to normal. This winter was no longer difficult for her; when the sun came out, she would occasionally step outside, curling up lazily in a reclining chair with a heater, basking in the sunlight like a drowsy cat.

One after another, New Year gifts arrived at Anle Hall. The palace attendants’ presents were not expensive but were very practical—warm quilts, smokeless silver charcoal for heating.

As the Lunar New Year’s Eve approached, Consort Xian brought over carefully prepared dumplings for the two girls to eat.

The dumplings were filled with a variety of ingredients, packed into several food containers, and carried over.

The kitchen in Anle Hall was steaming and warm. Several girls were busy in the kitchen. Consort Xian skillfully dropped dumplings into boiling water, while another batch was placed in a steamer.

Wei Ying and Xiao Qianxue, unable to resist their cravings, sneaked into the kitchen to steal a dumpling or two.

Consort Xian sighed: “Be careful, they might not be fully cooked.”

Xiao Qianxue grabbed one with long chopsticks and popped it into her mouth, instantly being burned by the hot juice. Tears filled her eyes as she panted and said awkwardly, “It’s cooked, huff… huff… but it’s hot!”

Consort Xian smiled helplessly. Once the dumplings floated to the surface, she scooped them out, placed them in prepared soup, sprinkled some bright green scallions on top, and served one bowl each to the two girls. She took a bowl for herself and let Aunt Zhang distribute the remaining dumplings to the palace attendants.

Thus, everyone could enjoy hot dumplings.

Consort Xian said, “One of the dumplings has a coin inside. Whoever eats it will have a year of good luck.”

Xiao Qianxue laughed upon hearing this, picking another dumpling and saying, “Be careful when you eat it, don’t bite your teeth.”

In the end, Wei Ying got the lucky dumpling.

According to the palace gossip princess, it was because she had received the protagonist’s aura, and her luck had started to improve steadily.

Wei Ying smiled, looking forward to a new year of good fortune—and hopefully finishing her missions early!

Halfway through the dumplings, the door to Anle Hall was pushed open, and a cold wind with snow blew in.

The visitor loosened a teal cloak patterned with plums, shaking off the chill. “Am I late?”

Wei Ying and the others quickly moved to bow, but the Empress stopped them.

Yue Qinghui approached the table. “I just wanted to see the two younger sisters; I didn’t expect you to be here too.”

Consort Xian smiled as she went into the kitchen to fetch a bowl of cooked dumplings. She wasn’t particularly close to the Empress; both preferred to stay indoors, rarely meeting except during banquets or when assisting the Emperor with memorials.

In fact, they had a previous connection.

Back then, neither had entered the palace. Yue Qinghui studied under her father at the academy and had a rare talent that surpassed many self-important scholars. When Consort Xian wrote Ode to Shengjing, many praised the young daughter of the Cui family, saying her talent rivaled Yue Qinghui’s, and that her reclusive nature made her more admirable than the always-public young lady.

Consort Xian, like her father, preferred staying home and avoiding trouble. After entering the palace, she also tried to avoid meeting the Empress, to prevent awkwardness.

But today, Yue Qinghui took the initiative: “When I was young, I often heard of Awu’s talent. Reading Ode to Shengjing, I was enthralled and wished to fly to Shengjing immediately to meet you. I didn’t expect Awu not only writes so well but is also such a good cook.”

Consort Xian smiled softly: “Your Highness is too kind.”

Yue Qinghui ate the dumplings and asked, “You look much thinner than before; has something happened?”

Consort Xian shook her head and then smiled: “Just a small matter.”

Yue Qinghui’s lips curved slightly, glancing at Wei Ying and the others: “Are you doing well here?”

Wei Ying thought, the Empress seemed aloof, yet her heart was kind. She was considerate of women in the harem, probably because of her sense of responsibility.

Wei Ying smiled, but before she could speak, Yue Qinghui continued: “I’ve always known you would do well.”

Wei Ying: “Ah—?”

Did she know the Empress very well?

Yue Qinghui finished her dumplings and, after a few words, left together with Consort Xian.

After all, a palace banquet was being prepared, with the Empress presiding and Consort Xian assisting. Lately, the palace had been busy. Perhaps the Empress came only to bring the lazy Consort Xian along to help her with the tasks.

Wei Ying watched their backs, feeling a strange sense of unease.

The two walked through the snow. Consort Xian held the umbrella for the Empress, tilting it toward her while exposing most of herself. She was short, stretching her hand to hold the umbrella, growing tired quickly.

The Empress looked down and, speaking softly, took over holding the umbrella. They walked closer together, sharing the cover.

Wei Ying shook her head, shifting her gaze, curling up by the heater, and dozing off comfortably.

When she woke, the room had more brocaded clothing, jewelry, and a chest of weapons—gifts from the Noble Consort.

Xiao Qianxue played with the weapons, pouting: “The Noble Consort clearly isn’t mad at you.”

Wei Ying touched her lips, thinking it was probably because, in the new year’s palace events, she had been in the background.

During the New Year’s palace banquet, the palace was bright and festive, music floating on the wind from afar. Only the two of them were nestled in a warm room, holding bowls of dumplings, guessing who was singing from the sounds outside.

“Definitely Li Pin singing. She’s so good!”

“That’s Consort Xian playing the zither!”

“Too bad we can’t see Consort Shu’s waist-bending dance. She dances so beautifully.”

They critiqued and appreciated the performances from afar, as fireworks exploded across the sky.

Wei Ying remembered something, placing the steamed dumplings in an ivory food box and carrying some incense she had recently received. “I’m going outside for a bit.”

Xiao Qianxue worried: “But didn’t the Emperor forbid us from going out? It’s cold and dark…”

Wei Ying just smiled: “It’s New Year; no one will notice me sneaking out.”

Besides, with her connections in the palace, even if she slipped out, the maids and eunuchs would likely just smile and say, “Happy New Year, Noble Lady.”

Xiao Qianxue continued to worry: “But it’s so cold and dark outside. Can I come with you?”

Wei Ying shook her head, hugging the food box and running off: “I want to wish someone a ‘Happy New Year.’ This is my secret. You go to bed early; don’t wait for me.”

Xiao Qianxue watched the heavy evening darkness, melancholy. She knew Wei Ying had many friends—palace consorts, maids, eunuchs, even her little pear blossom companion.

Sitting by the window, Xiao Qianxue quietly picked at the lamp wicks, listening to the fireworks, unable to help judging Wei Ying.

Usually, she rarely commented on others, but at this moment, looking at the palace lantern blending into the night, she thought: Wei Ying could easily get along with everyone, like a naturally shining sun attracting everyone around.

But the sun is there for everyone, fair and equal.

No one can claim it all for themselves.

She shrank her neck by the stove, warming herself, then climbed into bed. Before sleeping, she thought of her mother, who used to sit by the window waiting for her father to return every night, feeling a bit grateful that her feelings for Wei Ying were just that of a close friend, not romantic.

Otherwise, falling for someone like her could drive one mad.

Wei Ying ran lightly, excited at the thought of breathing in fresh luck. She went to the Cold Palace. The ghost girl didn’t appear, so Wei Ying burned incense and joss paper, comforting her spirit.

The cold wind bit, and she shivered slightly, carrying a lantern back inside.

Her constitution had improved; she could barely see at night, but much better than before. She soon found the door, pushed it open, and curled up by the fire. She hadn’t come here in many days and accidentally touched a book on the bed. Lighting it by the fire, she saw the cover clearly: Records of the Harem’s Entanglements.

Inside, the tiny print was still like a mass of black ants, impossible to read.

Unexpectedly, the Cold Palace even had storybooks.

Wei Ying gained a new understanding of Yun’s ghostly existence. Hearing footsteps outside, she placed the book on the table and ran to open the door, giving the visitor a big hug. “Happy New Year!”

Yun Shao, caught off guard, collided into the warm embrace, stunned for a moment before quietly responding, a bit flustered.

Wei Ying sniffed, detecting a faint scent of alcohol on her. She laughed: “So, the underworld is quite lively, reading storybooks and drinking too. Are they celebrating the New Year there as well? Did you go to an appointment, and that’s why you came back now?”

Yun Shao didn’t know how to reply. The north wind howled, and she held the girl’s hand, pulling her inside to sit by the fire. Glancing at Records of the Harem’s Entanglements, her fingers curled nervously, her heart pounding.

Wei Ying took out the just-heated food box, smiling: “Eat the dumplings, they’re still hot! Oh, you should burn the incense first; then I…”

Suddenly, her wrist was grabbed. The ghost’s hand was icy, her voice cold: “No need to burn it.”

Yun Shao had drunk a bit at the palace banquet; her head was dizzy, and she struggled to open the food box.

The dumplings, plump with thin skin, still steamed, lay quietly in the ivory box.

She pressed her brow, the redness along her temples burning, her chest pounding as if her eardrums would burst. After a while, she picked up a plump dumpling and bit it gently.

Her movements were restrained and graceful.

Wei Ying, propping her chin on her hand, guessed that the ghost girl must have been raised strictly, every gesture refined.

Yun Shao slowly ate it and softly asked, “Did you make these dumplings?”

Wei Ying replied truthfully, “No, Consort Xian made them.”

Yun Shao froze, setting down the ivory chopsticks, methodically wiping her mouth.

Wei Ying asked with concern, “Not eating anymore?”

Yun Shao softly replied, “Mm.”

Wei Ying asked again, “Are you full?”

Yun Shao shook her head. She hadn’t eaten much at the palace banquet, enduring hunger from noon until now. She was used to enduring discomfort; nobody cared about her besides luck and longevity.

But looking into the girl’s earnest eyes, a dull pain arose in her upper abdomen, her stomach burning, churning with acid, making her frown, her face pale, head bowed.

It was as if nothing could hide from Wei Ying.

Yun Shao clenched her palms.

Wei Ying curiously asked, “If you’re not full, eat more. Don’t like dumplings?”

“I like them,” Yun Shao said softly, “but they’re not yours.”

Not yours, so I don’t want to eat.

Wei Ying was amused, speechless for a long moment.

After saying this, Yun Shao regretted it, cheeks flushed, bright red. Somehow, she felt like she had returned to childhood, confidently acting spoiled, when nothing she did could be blamed. Now, everything had changed, the past shattered, leaving only traces of ash.

Her voice sounded pretentious.

She nervously looked at Wei Ying, as if awaiting judgment.

The girl remained silent for a while, then tilted her head, smiling with crescent-shaped eyes, reaching over to pinch Yun Shao’s cheek: “You’re so cute. Is there a kitchen here? I’ll cook something for you.”

Yun Shao, disappointed, tugged her sleeve: “No.”

There was one, but it hadn’t been used for a long time, gathering dust.

She regretted not cleaning it. She seldom came here before, but since meeting Wei Ying, she had come more often, increasingly treating this place as home.

Home is a place, even without fire, lights, or rich food, where warmth can still be found.

Wei Ying picked up a dumpling, coaxing her: “Then I’ll feed it to you. That counts as me making it, right?”

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