I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 72

Fushou was dumbfounded. What on earth was happening? Why had the assassin’s knife broken? Why was His Majesty still sleeping soundly in Consort Ying’s arms? And why… why was the atmosphere so calm?

He glanced at the assassin and realized the assassin looked even more stunned than he did, his face pale, frozen in place, as if scared senseless.

“Hurry and apprehend this traitor!”

The guards immediately surged forward and bound the assassin. Even after being tied up, the assassin did not resist.

Fushou noticed that as the assassin got out of the carriage, his legs kept trembling, almost unable to walk. This struck him as strange—he knew that assassins sent on missions were usually “death soldiers,” professionally trained, and generally fearless unless…

What on earth had happened inside the carriage?

Wei Ying asked softly, “Is everything outside handled?” Her voice was light, but Fushou felt a sharp pressure, as if struck by something immense.

“Your Highness, the assassins have all been captured. We intended to interrogate them, but they bit down on the poison pills in their mouths and died instantly.”

Wei Ying nodded. “They were death soldiers, prepared to die. Even if you dragged them down to interrogate them, nothing useful would come out.”

Fushou carefully looked at her, meeting her calm eyes, and lowered his head again. He didn’t know why, but even though in front of him was only a small consort, he was more afraid of her than he was of His Majesty. At least with the Emperor, he knew that although the young emperor could look fierce, he was soft toward his own people. Just soothing him would suffice, and everything would soon be fine.

But he couldn’t read the girl in front of him. When he met her gaze, it felt as if she saw straight through him. Her eyes were indifferent, as if looking down on all mortals from above. Even the smallest actions could not escape her scrutiny.

Fushou lowered his eyes, not daring to meet hers, feeling that this was only natural, that it should be this way.

Wei Ying glanced at the sleeping emperor and said lightly, “Let’s continue to the hunting grounds.”

Fushou asked, “Shall we not inform His Majesty?”

Wei Ying replied, “No need.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I’ll tell him when he wakes up.”

Fushou nodded and got off the carriage, giving instructions to continue the journey. Being a senior eunuch and having just descended from the imperial carriage, everyone assumed it was the emperor’s order and did not halt.

Wei Ying, having sat for so long, felt a bit tired. Looking at the emperor in her arms, she rested her chin on him and closed her eyes, basking in the dappled sunlight filtering through the carved window.

After reaching a “ten-point fusion,” she soon drifted into another dream.

This time, she dreamt of another child. Young Yue Qinghui looked similar in facial features to her grown-up self, but with chubby, pink cheeks, utterly adorable. It was probably the summer of the sixteenth year of the Qingyuan era. The sun blazed overhead, scorching the green grass.

She heard a knock on the door and saw a girl carved from jade and snow.

“Senior sister!” The little girl leaped into her arms like a swallow.

Wei Ying hugged her tightly, lifted her to the stone table under the grapevine trellis, and picked up a vine. With a cold expression, she asked, “Did you come out alone?”

The little girl hadn’t realized the seriousness of the situation, mumbling, “I wasn’t alone! The uncles on the road were so kind to me!”

Without another word, Wei Ying spanked her repeatedly. The little girl’s bottom wriggled on the table as she cried out, but Wei Ying, heartless, paid no mind and continued.

Suddenly, little Yue Qinghui stopped crying. Wei Ying, fearing she had hurt her, quickly paused. Looking down, she realized Yue Qinghui was staring at something behind the trellis.

Following her gaze, Wei Ying saw a small child hiding in the grapevine shadows. Their eyes met, and even in the dream, Wei Ying felt her heart tremble.

Young Yun Shao was very beautiful, yet stiff and pale like a lifeless doll. Black glass beads set in her eye sockets stared at her. Sunlight fell around her, illuminating everything except her.

When their eyes met, the child’s eyes flashed with emotion, and she fled behind the trellis, no longer a lifeless figure.

When Wei Ying woke, the emperor was still curled up in her arms, sleeping soundly. His pale cheeks were tinged with red, long eyelashes resting softly, a few strands of hair catching the sunlight, glimmering like malachite.

Wei Ying gazed at him for a long time, smiling faintly. The emperor was very beautiful now, delicate and resplendent, though no longer as gloomy as he had been as a child, knowing how to feign innocence, lie, and act submissively to be endearing.

Suddenly, she felt the emperor was like an exquisite doll, only activated and brought to life when she was near.

After a couple of hours, Yun Shao woke. She slowly blinked and found herself leaning against one end of the carriage, Wei Ying sitting at the other, reading.

Yun Shao was a little annoyed; she had wanted to talk more with Wei Ying during the journey, but had fallen asleep from exhaustion. She stretched and rubbed against Wei Ying, her voice nasal, “Wei Ying, what are you reading?”

Wei Ying put away her book and tilted her head, smiling. “Just a storybook. Your Majesty, I need to tell you something.”

Yun Shao’s big, beautiful eyes looked at her innocently. “What is it?”

Wei Ying: “Assassins came earlier.”

The emperor’s smile froze. “Huh?”

Startled, she opened her mouth slightly, cheeks still pink from sleep. She looked adorable yet clueless. Wei Ying couldn’t help pinching her face and continued, “But Your Majesty need not worry. They’ve been caught.”

The emperor breathed a sigh of relief, still shaken. “I… did I sleep too deeply? Wei Ying, what happened?”

She thought for a moment, then said, “The assassins must not have made it onto this carriage; the guards stopped them.”

Wei Ying: “No, they did get on.”

The emperor’s pupils practically exploded.

He rushed to lift Wei Ying’s clothes. “Wei Ying, were you hurt? Why didn’t I know?”

Wei Ying smiled, holding his shoulders to stop him and said, “No major problem, but the assassins had big problems.”

She hoped the assassins could recover from the trauma and regain new life.

The red flushed from Yun Shao’s face, returning her pale complexion. She looked at Wei Ying with tear-filled eyes and grasped her sleeve, hands trembling. She tried to speak several times, but no sound came out.

After a while, she calmed down, pinched her brow, and quietly hugged Wei Ying, burying her face in her neck. “Why didn’t you wake me, Wei Ying?”

Wei Ying: “It wasn’t serious. Besides, Your Majesty rarely sleeps this well.”

Yun Shao’s body trembled, saying nothing, only greedily inhaling Wei Ying’s scent and feeling her warm body, slowly relaxing.

Wei Ying sensed the slight trembling and gently patted her back. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. Everything’s fine.”

“Hmm,” Yun Shao murmured, sulking. “Next time, if something like this happens… you should tell me.”

The emperor got up and went outside to ask Fushou about the assassins.

The assassins were all dressed in black, tall, and had failed in their mission. All of them had bitten down poison pills and died. Upon removing the black cloths from their faces, the guards discovered they were all from Bei Yue.

Hearing this, Yun Shao’s brows furrowed. “Bei Yue?”

Fushou nodded. Bei Yue had always been arrogant. The last time their envoys came to the capital, it was obvious they had no intention of negotiating, aiming only to declare war on Da Sheng. Their actions were unsurprising.

Yun Shao stood outside the carriage, her expression thoughtful.

The carriage moved across the open fields, the golden millet swaying in the autumn wind. The emperor gazed at the fields and asked softly, “Wei Ying… are you alright?”

Fushou, anticipating the question, smiled. “Your Highness, I saw the lady holding you in the carriage. She looked fine. She even instructed me to keep quiet, so as not to disturb you.”

Yun Shao’s lips curled. “What about the assassins?”

Fushou hesitated, then slowly said, “The assassins… their knife broke.”

“Knife… broke?” Yun Shao’s brow furrowed, many question marks appearing in her mind as she looked at Fushou suspiciously.

Fushou assured her, saying he had not seen it wrong—the assassin’s knife truly broke!

“Then perhaps Bei Yue is not to be feared,” Fushou added. “If even their assassination knives are this poor, their soldiers’ swords would probably break too. Da Sheng is certain to prevail!”

Yun Shao pressed her brow and had him present the broken blade. She curved her fingers and flicked it lightly. A crisp metallic sound rang out. The blade, although not a legendary sword, was made of fine steel and clearly wouldn’t break easily. From the break and the curl on the edge, it was evident it had struck a heavy object.

Yun Shao smiled brighter and returned to the carriage to hug Wei Ying.

Wei Ying was startled by the sudden embrace. “Your Majesty?”

Yun Shao: “Hmm,” she said, pressing her face into Wei Ying’s neck. “I knew you were a celestial being!”

Such miracles and wonders could only be by divine blessing.

Wei Ying feigned melancholy: “But everyone says I’m a demon consort.”

Yun Shao’s eyes darkened. Expressionless, she said, “Do not be upset, Wei Ying. Soon, they will no longer dare speak of it.”

Wei Ying’s heart skipped a beat. Fearing the emperor’s displeasure might result in someone getting punished, she quickly said she had only been joking. After coaxing, the emperor lightly humored her, agreeing not to pursue it—but as repayment, Wei Ying had to let him hug her for an hour.

Wei Ying pressed her lips together, thinking, being a demon consort was too difficult.

But the emperor, lifting his face, smiled triumphantly, the sunlight illuminating the dust in the light beams.

Wei Ying suddenly remembered the child in her dream, standing quietly as golden sunlight bypassed her, unwilling to fall upon the girl. She raised her gaze, sunlight scattering across her eyes, eyelashes catching flecks of gold.

In the end, she extended her arms, embracing the soft, fragrant emperor.

If the sunlight refused to fall on the emperor, then she would hold the emperor herself, for she herself radiated light.

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