I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 81

In the end, the Emperor still agreed to Prince Luling’s request for dismissal.

The ruler and her subject rode side by side across the golden autumn plains, wild grass swaying around them.

The Emperor tightened her grip on the reins. Her golden robe, long and slender in cut, accentuated her slim figure; five-clawed dragons embroidered on her sleeves coiled upward as if soaring through the clouds, glinting in the sunlight. Tilting her head slightly, the twelve beaded tassels of her imperial crown fell to obscure her dark eyes, revealing only her pale, refined chin.

Prince Luling dismounted and knelt on the ground, taking leave of his sovereign.

From above, Yun Shao gazed down at him, her eyelids lowered. The shadows of the twelve tassels flickered across her snow-pale face, giving her an air of impenetrable depth, as though her heart bore the weight of ten thousand matters.

Prince Luling dropped his eyes after a single glance, kneeling with sincerity this time—kneeling in full conviction.

If the Emperor, with that slight frame, could handle the terror of the harem and so many formidable women, then this throne was hers by right, hers beyond all dispute!

Yun Shao vaulted lightly from her horse and walked up to him. Looking down, her long lashes cast a small shadow beneath her eyes, the corners of which drooped faintly; not even the blazing autumn sun could dispel the shadow within.

Once again, Prince Luling connected this image of her with the pale, gloomy youth in his memories. He thought, perhaps the Emperor had always been this way. The fleeting glimpses of a carefree, spring-bright boy were nothing more than a passing bloom.

If he thought it through carefully, there was nothing enviable about sitting on that throne. In his memory, the late emperor too was always somber, brows knotted with sorrow. Standing above all others, with wealth beyond measure, yet bearing the burdens of an entire realm.

Floods in the southeast—must be managed. Invasions from the north—must be managed. Earthquakes in the southwest—must be managed. Bandits rampant—must be managed…

No matter how vast the wealth, the portion one person could enjoy was minuscule; no matter how small the sorrows, gathered from all under heaven, they became insurmountable.

Truly, being Emperor was hardly the work of mortals.

In the short span of kneeling, Prince Luling had already thought it all through—

It was precisely because the Emperor sacrificed her body and beauty within the harem, serving a host of “demonic” women for the sake of peace, and because she bowed her head like an ox without and toiled tirelessly over memorials, quarrels with ministers, and state affairs, that royal relatives and pampered scions like himself could idle their lives away, feasting and reveling.

The more he thought on it, the more grateful he became—until tears welled up.

Good thing he hadn’t listened to the Empress Dowager and others, who urged him to covet the throne. That would have been pushing him straight into a firepit!

To have someone else do all the work while he still enjoyed his idle pleasures—where else in the world could one find such a bargain?

Suddenly enlightened, divine light flashed through his mind, and his spirit lifted at once.

He understood! He would return home to enjoy his soft rice, eat his meals, and feast from the largest bowls!

The Emperor frowned slightly at the brightening eyes of Prince Luling. “You are about to leave. Does my royal brother have anything to say?”

Prince Luling blurted, “Your Majesty, hungry hungry.”

The Emperor tilted her head, perplexity in her gaze. “What?”

Snapping back to his senses, Prince Luling burst out laughing. “Your Majesty must take care of yourself from now on. State affairs are wearying.” He glanced meaningfully at the women behind the Emperor, then added with deliberate weight, “In any case, do not overtax your body. Your Majesty’s health is the foundation of the realm.”

With that, he led his cavalry swiftly back toward his fief, to his happy homeland.

The Emperor watched, bewildered, as he bounded away like an eager hound, and for some reason felt as though she had been badly shortchanged. Turning back, she looked blankly at Wei Ying.

Wei Ying leaned close and whispered, “What is Your Majesty thinking?”

Yun Shao was silent for a moment, then said softly, “He told me to take care of myself… Shouldn’t he hate me?”

No one had ever cared for her, not her parents—who treated her as an enemy—nor her mother and teacher, who had wished only for her death. Yun Shao had long understood she was alone in this world, unloved and unsupported. That was why she dared climb to the highest peak, to pluck stars from the sky.

She frowned slightly, turning over the possibility of Prince Luling’s rebellion in her mind. But recalling the troops she had already stationed in the prefectures near his fief, she calmed—if he dared to rise, he would be crushed at once.

Yet if he continued acting so bizarre, she wouldn’t hesitate to add another line to her record as a tyrant.

But to Wei Ying’s eyes, this confusion and hesitation looked more like that of a pitiful child, neglected by family, so starved for affection that even the smallest kindness left her overwhelmed.

Wei Ying’s heart softened. She reached out and clasped the Emperor’s hand gently. “Your Majesty, you are already good. No one should hate you.”

Yun Shao was startled by this kindness, her eyes glimmering with sudden joy, quickly veiled in a thin sheen of tears. She lowered her gaze and whispered, “Since childhood, only my teacher ever liked me.”

Even though the touch of Wei Ying’s hand filled her with triumphant delight, she forced herself to feign a pitiful air, tears brimming as she murmured, “No one likes me.”

Wei Ying fell silent.

Yun Shao sniffled on. “I know I am worthless, that is why no one likes me. When I first returned to the palace, my father despised me, shut me in a pitch-black room, gave me only one meal a day, no charcoal in the bitter cold of winter…”

Just then, the Noble Consort passed by.

She looked at the Emperor in surprise.

Pitch-black room? Did she mean the Eastern Palace? As far as the Consort knew, the Eastern Palace had fixed stipends for food and clothing, second only to the Son of Heaven. For the Emperor to speak so—it was sheer ingratitude.

Unable to listen further, the Noble Consort pulled Xiao Qianxue away, instructing the guards to retreat a li’s distance so as not to hear the Emperor spreading such slanderous household tales. The imperial family was not some vulgar street gossip.

Wei Ying noticed the retreating soldiers, turned back, and caught the Consort’s disdainful look.

Her lips twitched, face warming. She nodded slightly to Pei Que, grateful for having the guards sent away.

The Noble Consort huffed coldly and, with Xiao Qianxue and Lady Li, went off to stroll with their horses.

Yun Shao lowered her eyes, murmured a while, then lifted her misty gaze and concluded, “So I am but a solitary soul.”

Wei Ying propped her chin in her hand, quietly watching until she had finished.

What began as an act of pitiful pretense slowly slipped into genuine emotion. Tears rolled down Yun Shao’s cheeks, the jeweled tassels of her crown swaying and half-hiding her tear-drenched eyes.

Wei Ying brushed the beads aside, studying her closely.

Yun Shao lowered her eyes, then looked up again, suddenly thinking perhaps Yingying might kiss her. Her heart leapt with joy, and she leaned subtly closer, waiting for that heaven-sent kiss.

The beads clattered back into place.

Wei Ying waved a hand, sighing. “Your Majesty, the corners of your mouth are already reaching the heavens. What could be making you so happy, crying and laughing at once?”

Caught, Yun Shao failed her expression management. Flustered and angry, she lunged toward Wei Ying—who quickly snapped her whip and darted away.

—

That mission earned Wei Ying twenty fusion points. That night, her dream became especially long and vivid.

Once again, she returned to the courtyard the Emperor so cherished.

By the lotus pond, sunlight spilled, sparkling across the rippling water. The lotus blossoms had already withered, leaving only a few drooping stalks above the surface.

Beside the pond stood a trellis of grapevines, heavy green leaves glistening like jade in the sun.

Wei Ying stepped beneath the trellis, parting tangled leaves and weeds, half-expecting to find a little emperor hiding there, just as in the last dream: a chubby-cheeked child crouched behind the grass, round black eyes staring wide.

But no child appeared. Disappointment tugged at her chest. Turning back toward the delicate pavilion, she thought, so this was where the Emperor had lived when cast out among the common folk. Life had not seemed so bad.

No wonder her character had grown into what it was now.

The scenery before her felt strangely familiar. She stood for some time before connecting this sunlit courtyard with the gloomy golden halls of the palace. Sitting on the stone bench beneath the trellis, she rested her chin on her hand, waiting for the memories to unfold.

After a while, hurried footsteps sounded outside the gate. She rose quickly to open it—but before she could, the world blurred like ink spreading in water. Out of the haze stepped a woman in light-green narrow-sleeved robes, drawing nearer and nearer.

The image grew sharper.

The first thing she saw was a face she knew all too well—long, upturned eyes tinged with red at the corners, a straight nose, porcelain skin, and lips that curved in a perpetual smile.

It was her own face.

Bright with youth, outshining anyone.

Whenever she traveled to other worlds for missions, Wei Ying usually chose to use her own body. Stroking her chin now, she admired herself, clicking her tongue: I truly am a great beauty!

Her mood soared.

Since the woman appeared, the dream seemed like a painting with Wei Ying standing outside, watching the figures inside move.

The wooden doors creaked open. A girl hurried in and halted at the threshold, silently gazing at the woman. In her deep, dark eyes glimmered a look Wei Ying recognized all too well.

Her heart skipped a beat. This must be the Emperor as a young girl.

Yun Shao’s hair was loose, her cheeks smeared with soot, her skirt singed by fire, as if she had just escaped a blaze. Clutching the door, her body trembled. “Teacher, I…”

The woman started in surprise, eyes widening, then seemed to understand. Smiling warmly, she beckoned. “I know it all already. Shao’er, come with me. I will tell you what comes next.”

Yun Shao’s eyes brightened. She followed eagerly behind her like a chick after its mother.

“Shao’er, the palace fire has broken into open conflict between you and the Gong family. But you must not panic or rush for vengeance. First, steady your footing. Remember, you are the late emperor’s child, the sole heir of the Great Sheng, the will of the people, the star at the center of the heavens.”

She turned and smiled. “Since you have chosen this road, then no matter how difficult, you must grit your teeth and walk it yourself.”

Yun Shao nodded blankly.

The woman continued, “I have already sent a letter to our teacher. Help will come. General Pei has always been loyal to you. And though Minister Cui appears neutral, he knows you are of true dragon blood; in his heart, he will support you. On the court, the Gong clan may seem all-powerful, but they have lost the people’s trust. One strike, and they will collapse.”

A cough escaped her lips. Reaching the trellis, she poured herself tea and sipped to ease her throat before speaking on. “After you ascend the throne, in the first years you must show weakness and bide your time. The Gong faction is deeply rooted; to cut them down at once would harm the very foundation of the realm. Step by step, Shao’er, or you risk hurting the people.”

“Once enthroned, your first duty is to marry the daughter of the Yue clan as empress, then take the daughters of General Pei and Minister Cui as concubines. Only thus can you stabilize the court immediately. I will write another letter. Deliver it to Qinghui, and she will understand. Qinghui is brilliant, with lofty ambitions. If ever you face difficulties in governance, consult her.”

“I will.” Yun Shao spoke firmly, “Teacher, I want to marry another woman.”

The woman paused, then coaxed gently, “When you ascend, the Gong family’s women will inevitably enter the harem. If you yield the empress’s seat to them, revenge will become impossible. Shao’er, the harem is another court in its own right.”

Yun Shao’s eyes reddened. Stubbornly, she lifted her chin and repeated, “But I want to marry another woman. I already have someone—” Her face flushed, voice dwindling to a whisper. “I only want that woman. With you at my side to guide me, it will be enough.”

Lowering her head, she gripped her scorched hem. Softly, she added, “I want revenge.”

The woman set down her cup, a sad smile on her lips. “But Shao’er… I want you to live.”

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