I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 85

The emperor reached out to wipe away the ink stain, but instead of cleaning it, the smudge spread, leaving her face pitch-black.

She looked just like a dirty, scruffy tabby cat.

Eunuch Fushou quickly carried a basin of water, pattering along behind:
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, at least wash your face before going over!”

Thus, a rather comical scene unfolded on the hunting grounds: Wei Ying strode ahead with long steps, the slightly shorter emperor hurried after her, and the shortest and roundest of them all, Eunuch Fushou, had to pump his stubby legs just to keep up with the other two.

By the time Wei Ying reached the prepared steeds, there was only a thin layer of water sloshing at the bottom of Fushou’s basin.

Wei Ying turned her head and saw the emperor’s smudged “cat face.” She couldn’t help but laugh, grabbed the cloth draped over Fushou’s arm, and briskly wiped the stain clean. The pitch-black ink was gone, revealing tender white skin beneath—so delicate it looked as if the slightest touch might break it.

Wei Ying’s movements grew gentler. After carefully cleaning the emperor’s face, she vaulted onto her horse and extended a hand to pull her up.

The emperor sat down happily in front of Wei Ying, instantly going limp, like boneless jelly, slumping against her chest with her hands resting on Wei Ying’s shoulders, slowly sliding downward.

Wei Ying, expressionless: “…”

Eunuch Fushou beamed: “Ah, Your Majesty is making progress!”

Wei Ying snapped the whip, and the stallion dashed out like a streak of black lightning, galloping across the autumn plains. In the blink of an eye, only a small black speck could be seen in the distance.

Fushou folded his arms and giggled for a long while before suddenly realizing:
“What are you staring for? Hurry and chase after them! If something happens to Her Majesty, none of your heads will stay on your shoulders!”

The magnificent steed sped forward, hooves pounding through the autumn grass. The late autumn wind, tinged with golden sunlight, swept past them.

Yunshao wrapped her arms around Wei Ying’s slender waist, burying her head against the girl’s chest. She couldn’t help but smile.

So soft—like a pillow.

She remembered long ago, lying on a cold wooden headrest. Her neck would ache, and she could never fall asleep. No one cared about her, no one liked her… until Yingying came along.

Yingying had gathered fallen osmanthus blossoms, stuffed them together with cotton, and made her a little pillow. Sleeping on it felt like sinking into soft clouds, with a sweet fragrance of osmanthus drifting up.

She loved that pillow so much. She loved Yingying.

Her only regret was that Yingying had made many of those pillows and given them to everyone—it wasn’t hers alone.

Yunshao frowned slightly, then smiled faintly, hugging Wei Ying tighter. Now, Yingying belonged only to her. The sweet chestnuts, the fragrant little osmanthus pillow, the amethyst-bright purple grapes—everything was hers, and no one else’s.

After six years, she had finally gotten her wish, to hold this happiness to herself.

She whispered in Wei Ying’s ear:
“Yingying, back then you also took me out like this. I sat on horseback, and you held me. Outside the capital, the maple forest was blazing red, like fire. We rode through it together, and you plucked a leaf and gave it to me. You had even written a word on it.”

Still riding at full gallop, Wei Ying asked casually:
“What word?”

Yunshao clenched her hand, her voice soft:
“Peace and Prosperity.”

Once upon a time, envy and jealousy had gnawed at her like a ravenous worm, chewing holes in her heart until it was battered and scarred. She chattered on about the past as if that could fill the void that jealousy had left behind—
As if, in doing so, Yingying would truly and completely belong to her.

From the beginning to the end—belonging to her alone.

The town near the hunting grounds was called Huaqiao Town.

In the original novel, this town was mentioned briefly: here, the heroine’s body was frail, and after being misdiagnosed by a quack, she bled excessively during a miscarriage, leaving her with chronic weakness. Even after rising to the position of empress, her health never recovered.

That was exactly what weighed on Wei Ying’s mind.

Now, Xiao Qianxue hadn’t miscarried, but she was still ill. The symptoms resembled miscarriage too closely. Perhaps the plot intended to force her into poor health anyway, the same as in the original story.

Thinking of her silly, foolish friend, Wei Ying resolved to protect her.

If the “plot god” wanted to force things straight, she would bend them crooked.

They arrived at the town’s only clinic, horse hooves clattering outside.

Hearing the sound, Pei Que came to the door. At the sight of them, her expression lit up with joy, but then quickly dimmed with guilt.
“Yingying…”

Wei Ying dismounted swiftly.
“How is Qianxue?”

Pei Que waved her hand, grim-faced.
“Not good. The doctor says she’s been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” Wei Ying handed her whip to the emperor and followed the noble consort inside.
“How? What did the doctor say?”

Pei Que lowered her head further, avoiding the question.
“The doctor is preparing medicine, but if this drags on, she may be left with a chronic ailment.”

Wei Ying’s heart gave a heavy thud. As expected—the “plot god” was tormenting the heroine again.

The plot god must have a personal grudge against her.

Pulling back the bed curtain, she saw Xiao Qianxue lying pale and unconscious, no trace of color on her face.

Wei Ying leaned closer, called softly twice:
“Qianxue? Qianxue?”

Hearing her voice, Qianxue weakly opened her eyes. Light flickered in her gaze, and she smiled faintly.
“Yingying, you came.”

Wei Ying sat down, holding her hand gently.
“How do you feel?”

Qianxue pouted, pitiful as a child.
“My stomach hurts.”

Pei Que, standing by the bed, frowned deeply, self-reproach in her voice.
“It’s all my fault.”

Wei Ying asked:
“What happened?”

Pei Que fiddled with her fingers, head bowed low.
“We went out together and… saw a mushroom under a tree.”

Wei Ying: “…”

She sighed.
“All right, no need to say more.”

Pei Que pouted.
“I usually don’t even like mushrooms, but for some reason I suddenly really wanted to eat it.”

And Qianxue had felt the same.

So, the two of them grabbed a little spade, dug the mushroom up, built a fire, and roasted it. Qianxue, being greedy, took the first bite and immediately collapsed from poisoning.

Panicked, Pei Que rushed her to the doctor, only to learn it was a local poisonous variety—one bite could kill. Even with antidote, the damage couldn’t be fully undone.

Wei Ying suspected the “plot god” had lured them into eating it. Still, knowing Qianxue’s gluttony, she thought, even without divine meddling, that little piglet might’ve eaten it anyway.

The old doctor entered with freshly boiled medicine, his face grim.
“This poison is troublesome. She’ll need rare herbs to maintain her health, and even then, she’ll be left weakened. Sigh, of all things, why eat such ugly mushrooms?”

Pei Que looked away, ashamed.

Qianxue, wincing in pain, still tried to defend her.
“It’s my fault for being greedy. But…” she pouted again, “it really did look delicious.”

The doctor sighed.
“Well, if you can eat, then it’s a blessing. Drink this medicine first, my lady.”

Qianxue downed the bitter concoction, face screwed up, sticking out her tongue before gulping down water.

Even then, she clutched her stomach, brows furrowed in pain.

Pei Que asked anxiously:
“Still hurting? Not any better?”

The doctor snapped:
“I already said it won’t fully heal. She’ll suffer pains in the future too.”

Pei Que lowered her eyes, lashes wet, biting her lip in silence.

Qianxue noticed and, struggling to sit up, tugged at Pei Que’s belt with her pale hand.
“My lady, don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. I was just greedy.” She gave a weak smile, her eyes shining tenderly. “Luckily you’re fine. If something had happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

The more Pei Que listened, the worse she felt. Finally, mumbling something about “checking the medicine,” she hurried out.

Wei Ying watched quietly, then turned to Qianxue.
“Not bad—you’ve even been sneaking mushrooms with the noble consort now.”

Qianxue’s eyes crinkled with a mischievous grin.
“Hehe, well, you only ever care about the emperor.” Her face paled again, clutching her stomach, moaning in pain even as she laughed. “But it was fun playing with Consort Pei~”

Wei Ying ruffled her hair.
“Hurts this much, and you can still laugh. Will you still be greedy next time?”

Qianxue pouted.

Wei Ying didn’t really scold her—after all, the heroine was most vulnerable to the plot god’s influence.

When it rains, the heroine munches mushrooms. What could you do?

She rubbed Qianxue’s head again, sighing.
“Raising you is really expensive.”

Qianxue thought she meant the cost of medicine. She muttered softly:
“When we get back to the palace, I’ll go to Anle Hall and sell some ointments.”

Wei Ying pulled out the orange card she’d drawn two days ago.

This was a State Modification Card, stronger than a purple one, able to alter a character’s condition.

Activating it, she saw Qianxue’s current status: Poisoned, frail as a blossom in the wind.

An idea struck her. Instead of using it right away, she glanced at the emperor. Yunshao stood by the window, smiling at her. Above her head floated the label: Esteemed “Longing-for-Wife Rock.”

Wei Ying: “…”

Whoever wrote these was truly talented.

The “Longing-for-Wife Rock” sensed her gaze, smiled even wider, and quickly winked at her.

Wei Ying’s lips curved upward despite herself. Only after a moment did she turn back to Qianxue, curled up in pain. Letting her suffer a little, she finally activated the card.

She crossed out Poisoned, frail as a blossom in the wind, and replaced “blossom” (hua) with “ox” (niu).

An ox in the wind.

Perfect.

The pain vanished from Qianxue’s belly. She poked her tummy, blinked, poked again, then lifted her little face with delight.
“Yingying, it doesn’t hurt anymore!”

Wei Ying: “… I hurt.”

Qianxue asked in alarm:
“Where does it hurt?”

Wei Ying gave her a meaningful look, sighing.
“Everywhere.”

Two golden legendary cards gone—and she was broke again.

Once reassured, Qianxue exclaimed happily:
“Yingying, not only does it not hurt, I feel so strong now!”

Wei Ying patted her head.
“Go call the noble consort in. She’s worried.”

Qianxue nodded eagerly.

Wei Ying slipped quietly outside and spotted Pei Que squatting on the steps, secretly wiping her tears.

When she noticed Wei Ying, she quickly scrubbed her face dry, pretending to be busy, and turned to check the fire in the pharmacy.

Wei Ying caught her arm.
“My lady, Qianxue is fine now.”

Pei Que gave a muffled “mm.” But then, realizing the meaning, she turned sharply.
“Fine?”

Wei Ying nodded.
“She’s perfectly well. Couldn’t be better.”

Pei Que bit her lip.
“The doctor said… even if she survives, she’ll be left with lasting weakness. Don’t try to comfort me. If I hadn’t taken her out, she wouldn’t have touched those mushrooms.”

Raised as a general’s daughter, she carried an immense sense of responsibility. Whenever something went wrong, she shouldered all the blame.

Wei Ying patted her shoulder.
“Really, I never lie. If you don’t believe me, go see for yourself.”

Pei Que eyed her suspiciously, but finally decided to trust her. After hesitating at the door, she mustered the courage to push it open.

Inside, Qianxue was still sitting up in bed, hair tumbling loose, pale face nestled in the quilt, but her complexion was already brighter.

“You… are you better?”

At the sight of Pei Que, Qianxue broke into a radiant smile.
“Of course! I feel amazing right now. I even want to jump out of bed and run around… and I really want to moo!”

Pei Que: “Moo what?”

Qianxue took a deep breath and let it out:
“Moooo—”

Pei Que froze, then turned on her heel and strode out.
“I’m going to get the doctor!”

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