I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 49

Yun Shao smiled gently, unable to suppress a chuckle, and the corners of her lips curved slightly as she whispered, “Yingying treats me so well.”

Even if it seemed otherwise on the surface, she was always taking care of her, quietly helping her. The last time in front of Taihe Gate when she whipped the ministers, it was to protect her. Helping her scare away Gong Hongbo—again, it was for her. And this time, too.

Wei Ying blinked, “Ah ha?”

The palace intrigue strategist thought silently: Perhaps the emperor has some misunderstanding about Yingying.

As for what kind of malice Yingying could have—probably only she would believe such a thing.

Yun Shao leaned close to Wei Ying, her cheeks flushed, and said, “Yingying treats me so well, I can’t think of how to repay you, so I can only offer my body…”

Wei Ying interrupted, “Then just make me empress, okay? No need to demote me first, just let me be some empress here or there—I don’t care.”

This could count as completing her mission in a roundabout way: succeed in palace intrigue and quickly exit this world.

Yun Shao stared at her steadily, the deep black in her eyes shimmering with light.

Wei Ying obediently met her gaze: “Your Majesty, I don’t want to exert myself anymore.jpg.”

Yun Shao asked, “If I make you empress, will you leave me?”

Wei Ying paused, then laughed softly, blinking rapidly, her almond-shaped eyes curving slightly upward at the ends, glinting with a bright light. “Of course I won’t leave Your Majesty~”

Yun Shao said no more, gripping her sleeve tightly, pulling her forward.

It wasn’t until they reached the gate of Yangxin Hall that Wei Ying realized the “dog emperor” had said he would take her to Yulu Palace, yet they ended up here. She had been distracted by other thoughts and hadn’t noticed—careless.

The grand palace loomed overhead, with a plaque reading “Yangxin Hall.”

Yun Shao looked up, slightly dazed. “How did we end up here?”

Wei Ying tugged at her little handkerchief. “Your Majesty, you led the way.”

Yun Shao opened her mouth, paused for a moment, and then whispered, “I was distracted, thinking about other matters. Yingying… since we’re already here, why not…”

Wei Ying pursed her lips, thinking, Play along, just act naturally!

Yun Shao leaned close, brushing against her ear: “I was thinking about making Yingying empress.”

Wei Ying instantly perked up, magnanimously saying, “It’s just a wrong turn. How can Your Majesty’s mistake be called a mistake? Besides, we ended up at Yangxin Hall—this is called old hands knowing the way.”

Yun Shao: …

Wei Ying awkwardly smiled twice, then took her hand, and they entered Yangxin Hall together. She busied herself around the room, pretending to organize memorials for the diligent emperor.

The emperor leaned against the desk, silently watching her, his expression growing colder.

After a while, as if remembering something, he smiled slowly: “Yingying, if you wish to be empress, you must exert yourself in practice.”

Wei Ying tilted her head, looking up at the emperor standing in the golden hall. She wore a sleek dark outfit, her robe embroidered with subtle golden dragons, her back straight as a sword, eyes dark and intense.

The emperor’s pale face framed by dark brows and eyes, lips thinly pressed together—he looked every bit the ruthless young ruler from the ancient paintings.

Suddenly, she realized that if Yun Shao had made this expression in the imperial garden, even the North Xue emissary would not have mistaken her.

“Your Majesty,” she pondered his words for a moment, and asked slowly, “How do I exert myself in practice?”

Yun Shao stepped down, grabbed her waistband, and led her to the dragon bed, raising an eyebrow, silently challenging her: Can you handle it?

Wei Ying: A true woman cannot say no!

But when she saw the emperor slowly unbutton her collar, revealing a slender collarbone, she couldn’t help averting her eyes. “Y-Your Majesty, this… isn’t proper, is it?”

Yun Shao asked, “Why wouldn’t it be proper?”

Wei Ying thought for a moment. “Publicly indulging in lust… of course it’s not proper.”

Yun Shao tilted her head to look out the window. Sunlight streamed through the carved lattice, dust floating in the beams. She glanced back, expression unchanged, continuing to unfasten her collar: “Hasn’t Yingying heard? Spring nights are short, mornings come soon. From now on, the ruler need not attend court early?”

Wei Ying stepped back, inadvertently catching sight of the emperor’s ivory shoulder, cheeks burning, eyes darting away, scolding herself for being so flustered. Sleeping with the heroine or bathing with the consorts had never made her this flustered.

Perhaps it was because their intentions were pure—just ordinary sleeping and bathing—but the dog emperor… he clearly just wanted to sleep with her!

The dog emperor was far from pure; his mind filled with lewd thoughts. He must have flipped through the Harem of Passion many times.

Suddenly, Wei Ying had an idea. She smiled at the emperor.

Yun Shao’s hand trembled. Something felt wrong.

Wei Ying scanned the room and quickly found a Buddhist scripture on a bookshelf. She handed it to the emperor: “I do not harbor worldly desires, Your Majesty. I suggest you read this often—it will help you transcend yourself and discover happiness beyond earthly desire.”

With that, she slipped away without looking back.

Yun Shao took the scripture from the floor after a while, her face tight, flipping through two pages, muttering a curse under her breath.

Outside, Fushou stood obediently, expecting the emperor to linger with Yingying, but before long, Yingying returned, beaming, greeted him briefly, and walked toward Yulu Palace.

Fushou considered the imperial will, sensing the emperor’s mood might not be pleasant, and waited outside for a long time until sunset, the crimson clouds pressing down. He finally pushed open the hall doors, entering the silent Yangxin Hall.

In the dim twilight, he was startled to meet the emperor’s dark eyes, recognizing her at last.

The hall was unlit, the emperor sitting in a chair, seemingly there for a long time.

She said nothing, gaze vaguely falling toward the door, resting her chin on her hand.

Fushou lit the candle, kicking something inadvertently. He picked up a crumpled Buddhist scripture, muttering silently: “Buddha forgive me,” then approached the emperor: “Even if Your Majesty does not believe, one should not desecrate such things. I—should not speak of this—but, but…”

Even if one does not believe, one cannot act like this—there might be karmic retribution.

Yun Shao said: “Worried I’ll face retribution?”

I’ve already suffered it. If I had known, I wouldn’t have been handed the scripture back then. Now, half-dressed, with a scripture shoved at me—I could kill.

Fushou’s hands trembled, the candle flickering. He looked up; the emperor’s face was illuminated by the flame, half in light, half in shadow, the dark eyes even colder.

He finally said, “Your Majesty has dragon energy protecting you. How could there be retribution?”

“Dragon energy?” Yun Shao scoffed. After a moment, her expression softened: “I know you care for me. In this deep palace, only your heart leans toward me. However—”

She snorted coldly, voice firm: “I’ve decided to tear down all the monk temples in Shengjing!”

Fushou dropped to his knees. “Your Majesty, reconsider!!!”

Wei Ying didn’t know the emotional turmoil the emperor went through that night, nor that a single word from her almost left the monks of Shengjing homeless.

She happily curled up under her blanket, thinking of the emperor’s flustered expression, giggling quietly. Perhaps too excited, she couldn’t sleep.

After tossing and turning, she got up, dressed, and stepped outside. The slender crescent moon had just risen on the phoenix tree.

She wandered, ostensibly “moon-gazing,” but really roaming. Unknowingly, she arrived at an abandoned palace garden. Hesitating, she pushed the door open.

Since regaining her abilities, she could see clearly at night. Tonight was the first time observing this palace garden.

Wei Ying lifted her lantern, staring at the plaque reading “Golden House,” silent.

Golden House… a secret chamber. No wonder the system hadn’t told her initially.

Palace intrigue strategist: “Host, I can hear you cursing me.”

Wei Ying: “Oh, dog system!”

Palace intrigue strategist: “…dog host!”

After a round of playful insults, Wei Ying entered the garden, startled by the eerie atmosphere.

She admired the world with aesthetic appreciation. In her eyes, the small Yulu Palace was a petite beauty, the gem-walled Baoyun Palace a dazzling beauty, and the grand yet austere Changchun Palace a dignified beauty. Each palace mirrored its inhabitant.

But in this abandoned palace, the aura suggested only hauntings. Fittingly, the resident was a pale, dark-eyed beauty.

She lingered in the cold, dark garden, waiting for someone, guarding a secret.

Holding the lantern until it swayed in the wind, she finally regained composure, stepping inside. At the gate, she found it locked.

Pouting, she examined the surrounding area. Inside the walls was a small peach grove, soft pink blossoms drifting.

The central building resembled not a palace, but a wealthy household.

Red lanterns swung on the eaves, dulled by weather, some broken, creating a tragic, eerie beauty.

Faded “double happiness” characters still clung to the walls.

She guessed this Golden House mirrored the emperor’s past memories—perhaps she had once been the “white moonlight” living here for a brief, unforgettable time.

The abundance of red suggested her demise might have occurred on her wedding day.

After pondering, she continued toward Yulu Palace, casting one last glance at the swaying lanterns.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice: “Master! You can’t go this way—it’s haunted!”

Another voice: “You little servant are lying. Where are ghosts in this world?”

It was Peng Liguo.

He waved off the little eunuch following him, needing some fresh air and thinking about avoiding the king’s wrath later.

The plan to intimidate Dazheng by drawing borders now… was complicated. If the North Xue king asked about the talks, he couldn’t reveal the truth.

Peng Liguo’s memory was extraordinary; he could recall and draw maps of anywhere.

Today, he planned to sketch the palace layout, though it might not help militarily, it demonstrated diligence and helped with promotion.

The eunuch nervously pleaded, “Master, perhaps we should go back—this place is haunted!”

Peng Liguo waved him off: “Afraid? Where are ghosts in the world? Only Dazheng people are superstitious.”

Recalling the strange cloud from earlier, he paused, then reassured: “Even if there are ghosts, I’m here, it’s fine.”

The eunuch trembled.

Wei Ying hid, letting them pass. She had a bit of regret using a purple card yesterday—this supreme VIP service was something she only used for the dog emperor.

When she heard a sharp feminine voice, she realized this was a scene from the original story.

In the original, the heroine discovered the North Xue emissary’s maps, warning the emperor. Here, Wei Ying needed to replicate that scene to maintain her mission.

She peeked out and saw the people on a narrow palace path: Xiao Qianxue back to her, two others approaching.

Wei Ying used a gray card, passing behind Xiao Qianxue.

The eunuch and Peng Liguo saw a radiant beauty in palace attire with a floating head behind her.

They turned pale, sweating.

Xiao Qianxue: “Who are you? What are you doing here at this hour?”

No one replied. The head turned slowly toward them.

The eunuch dropped the lantern and fled.

Peng Liguo ran after him, yelling.

Xiao Qianxue paused two seconds, muttered, “Yingying protect me!” then saw Wei Ying and blinked.

“Yingying!” she ran over, clutching her hand.

Wei Ying and the heroine walked to Yulu Palace.

Wei Ying asked, “Why did you come out?”

Xiao Qianxue frowned: “I don’t know. Couldn’t sleep… wanted a walk.”

Wei Ying realized the invisible plot force was affecting events, just as when the emperor first tried to take the heroine.

She asked: “Qianxue… do you like the emperor?”

Xiao Qianxue blinked. “Huh?”

Wei Ying repeated: “Do you like him?”

Xiao Qianxue thought: “Aren’t we all the emperor’s women? Shouldn’t we like him?”

Wei Ying: “We shouldn’t.”

Xiao Qianxue looked at her with big deer eyes, still confused.

“If you had a chance to leave the palace, go home without punishment, would you?”

Xiao Qianxue nodded eagerly. “Of course! I miss my parents so much.”

Wei Ying held her hand: “Then that’s it. You’d leave if you could, just like me.”

Xiao Qianxue, puzzled, didn’t fully understand.

Wei Ying took her to her room, snuggling under the blanket, warming hands.

Xiao Qianxue said: “But at first, when I saw Your Majesty, I thought you were so handsome… I imagined staying by your side…”

Her fantasy bubble burst immediately as the emperor approached the little pear blossom instead.

Later, she realized her infatuation was just from the emperor’s beauty.

Only Wei Ying knew it was due to the plot force. Without her interventions, the emperor and heroine would have followed the original story.

Wei Ying opened her mouth, unsure what to say, and saw Xiao Qianxue curled up, sleeping like a snowflake, skin warm in candlelight.

She simply felt warmth, like having a cozy heater in bed, nothing more.

Perhaps after reading the Buddhist scripture, she had no worldly desires.

The next day, the scared emissary packed to return to North Xue. Dazheng was terrifying—flying clouds, floating heads at night.

Peng Liguo hadn’t finished packing when the emperor pulled him to the hunting grounds.

The emperor wore a bright yellow robe, pants tucked into boots, riding a horse, accompanied by ministers and consorts.

Yun Shao held the reins. “I heard North Xue values martial skills, born to ride and shoot. How’s the emissary’s horsemanship?”

Peng Liguo perked up. Even in North Xue, he was skilled. The Dazheng men looked weak. He gladly accepted the emperor’s invitation to compete.

He mounted the horse, took the bow, approaching the targets. Just as he prepared to shoot, three arrows whistled past, striking the bullseye.

A beautiful young woman rode past, dismounted, chin lifted proudly.

Pei Jian arched her brows.

Pei Que ignored him, riding to Wei Ying: “Making progress?”

Wei Ying applauded: “My lady, you’re the best.”

Pei Que snorted, then said: “You’ll ride later—scare this barbarian’s arrogance!”

Wei Ying felt a little guilty, thinking she had already done so yesterday.

Peng Liguo’s ears rang, looking at the archer, slightly stunned.

Pei Jian kindly introduced: “Emissary, this is our Dazheng noble consort. Idle in the deep palace, she occasionally shoots arrows. Such basic horsemanship can’t match yours.”

He handed Peng Liguo five arrows.

Peng Liguo gulped, thinking he could manage.

Pei Jian teased: “You won’t lose to a palace maiden, right?”

Peng Liguo: “Of course not—”

His words were cut off.

The consort gently squeezed Wei Ying, whispering: “Go on!”

Wei Ying stayed put.

The consort: “You must!”

Wei Ying remained still.

The consort gave her a whip on horseback; the startled horse bolted into the crowd.

Wei Ying: …

The consort exclaimed: “Five arrows barely insult the emissary. Yingying, you handle it!”

This translation preserves the narrative’s humor, palace intrigue, and playful dynamics between Wei Ying and Yun Shao, as well as the scenes with the North Xue emissary.

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