I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 98

“Living doesn’t have to be so clear-headed.” Yue Qinghui smiled faintly, removing a snow-white glass bead from her coronet. “The past is already over. What use is there in asking about it again?”

Wei Ying arched her brows with a playful glint. “I simply don’t like being lied to.”

Yue Qinghui: “But Yingying, you already guessed most of it, didn’t you? Besides, I’ve sworn to someone that I can never speak of that matter.”

Wei Ying leaned lazily against the railing, the corners of her lips curling up. “You don’t need to tell me. I’ll just ask questions, and the Empress only needs to nod or shake her head.” She clasped her hands together, leaned slightly forward, and asked, “First question: Was that person also an acquaintance of His Majesty’s in the past?”

Yue Qinghui nodded.

Wei Ying tightened her palms, then asked again, “Was it a family member?”

Yue Qinghui narrowed her eyes slightly, then nodded once more.

Wei Ying pressed further: “When the Imperial Preceptor came to Shengjing back then, it wasn’t actually for His Majesty—but for him?”

Yue Qinghui hesitated, then replied, “…Yes. Yingying, don’t ask anymore.”

Wei Ying, as if looking into a mirror, let out a soft sigh. She slumped against the railing, gazing up at the cold, bright moon above.

The moon was full and luminous, haloed by prismatic light, breaking through thin clouds, casting shifting shadows like idle flowers.

Yue Qinghui glanced at her. Bathed in moonlight, the girl’s serene, gentle face seemed to hold an entire galaxy in her eyes. She leaned back, her gauzy skirts fanning out around her like drifting clouds.

The legendary goddess clad in mist and orchids could hardly surpass this.

A beauty as distant as flowers beyond the clouds.

Beautiful indeed, yet she seemed cold and unreachable.

Yue Qinghui spoke softly: “Actually, His Majesty is rather formidable.”

Wei Ying tilted her head and smiled. “Oh? I thought the Empress never admitted anyone was better than herself.”

In her fragmented memories, Yue Qinghui had always been untouchable, never conceding superiority to anyone.

Yue Qinghui only smiled faintly, lifted her gaze to the solitary moon above, and said no more.

They sat together in silence for a while, until the Virtuous Consort poked her head out from the flower bushes. “Elder Sister Empress, may I pick some flowers?”

Yue Qinghui laughed. “As you please.”

The little head withdrew, and before long the Virtuous Consort emerged again with an armful of blossoms, hugging them happily. “Wonderful! Tomorrow I’ll put them in a vase—Qianxue’s room can finally have flowers too.”

After escorting the Virtuous Consort back to the Jade Dew Palace, Wei Ying slipped away from Lüla and snuck back into the Golden House for another wander.

Sitting on the bed, a thought struck her. She pouted, bent down, and peeked under the bed, pulling out a bundle wrapped in floral cloth.

Her heartbeat quickened with excitement—could it be some clue related to the past?

She hesitated for a few seconds before unwrapping it. Layer after layer came off, until the contents were revealed. She fell silent.

A small suona flute lay quietly atop the cloth.

The palace system-chicken couldn’t help but screech: “Cluck cluck cluck cluck cluck!”

Ignoring the chicken’s cries, Wei Ying hugged her beloved little suona, rolled onto the bed, and went to sleep.

The next morning, while the Emperor was at court, she secretly snuck into the Hall of Mental Cultivation and opened a red-lacquered wooden box. Inside, she indeed found a charred maple leaf. But it didn’t bear the words “Peaceful Chang’an, Rivers and Mountains Like a Painting” that Yunshao had once mentioned.

Instead, carved upon it were the words: “I return to Cloud Mountain.”

She stared at them for a while, then lowered her gaze and flipped through the box.

It was filled with small, unremarkable trinkets. She picked up a withered stalk of foxtail grass and froze.

Wasn’t this lost long ago?

The Emperor had retrieved it and hidden it here?

It seemed His Majesty had some sort of collecting obsession—unable to discard even the tiniest thing related to Wei Ying. Whether it was the foxtail grass long since dead, or the Yunying flower necklace she had only just given days ago.

Even so, the collection was pitifully small, not even enough to fill one tiny box.

A vague, indescribable feeling welled up in Wei Ying’s chest—sour, bitter, tight. She didn’t look further. Closing the box, she carefully returned it to the sandalwood cabinet and left.

The skies were clear, the flowers fragrant, birds singing.

But without Xiao Qianxue, the palace suddenly felt colder.

Wei Ying headed to the Laundry Bureau, where she found the spy-beauty. She smiled sweetly and waved.

The woman jumped in fright, collapsing onto the ground.

Wei Ying crouched down, still smiling. “Hi, good morning. Want me to help you with the laundry?”

The spy-beauty immediately dropped to her knees. “Your Ladyship, please don’t torment me!”

Wei Ying winked. “The Empress Dowager sent you in here to seduce the Emperor, didn’t she? But it’s been days and you’ve made no progress. That won’t do.”

The spy trembled, her pale little face ashen. She stammered, “N-no! I have nothing to do with the Empress Dowager. She never told me anything!”

Wei Ying sighed. “Ai.”

She pulled over a little bench, sat beside the woman, and said warmly, “Don’t be so formal. Actually, we’re on the same side. I, too, would love for you to win away some of His Majesty’s favor.”

The spy blinked her wet, confused eyes at her.

Wei Ying took out an oiled paper packet. “Here, have a qingtuan. It was stored in the ice chest, so it’s a little cold.”

The woman, teary and desperate, bit into it with the resolve of facing death—only to find she was still alive. Her expression grew blanker.

Wei Ying beamed. “Good, isn’t it?”

The woman dumbly nodded.

Wei Ying slipped an arm around her shoulders, adopting the air of close sisters. “Actually, being the sole favorite of His Majesty is exhausting.”

The spy looked at her blankly.

Wei Ying: “Think about it. What’s good about exclusive favor? If His Majesty summons you every night, you’d never get a proper rest. Isn’t that tiring?”

The spy blinked. “…So tiring.”

Wei Ying continued, “And besides, because of such a trivial thing, the court ministers would hunt you down, calling you a—a demon consort—accusing you of bewitching the ruler, wishing to grind your bones to dust. If chaos broke out, the demon consort who did nothing wrong would be the first dragged out for sacrifice.”

She felt the woman shrink back in fear. Wei Ying sighed dramatically. “Since I entered the palace, I’ve been the only one His Majesty favors. I begged her to share her affections, but she simply refuses, refuses! Tell me, how can I bear such a burden?”

Wei Ying turned to her. “Now do you see my plight?”

The palace system-chicken sneered: “Host, who exactly are you fooling here?”

Yet the spy just stared with wide, empty eyes and nodded stupidly.

The chicken: …Doesn’t seem very bright.

Wei Ying’s eyes curved with a sly smile. “Therefore, let me help you win His Majesty’s love!”

The woman flinched, shaking her head violently. “N-no, I don’t want to. It’s too tiring. I don’t want to be a consort anymore. Laundry is good. Laundry is wonderful. The sisters in the bureau are all kind and cheerful. I really like it here.”

Wei Ying’s heart gave a lurch. Oops—maybe she’d overplayed the occupational hazards.

She grabbed the girl’s hands, speaking with heartfelt gravity: “How can you back down now? You’re a spy! Don’t you have any professional spirit? We spies must face every hardship with a smile!”

The woman wailed, “I’m not a spy! I’m not, I never was—you mustn’t say such things!”

Wei Ying: “Stand tall! Don’t give up!”

The woman: “Please don’t force me… I had no choice before, but now I just want to be a good person—an ordinary, boring, honest laundry maid.”

At last, Wei Ying’s single remark—“And what do you think the Empress Dowager will do with you?”—dragged back the terror of being controlled by the Dowager.

The woman sniffled, taking the handkerchief Wei Ying offered. “Life is so hard…sob…”

Wei Ying patted her shoulder. “It’s alright. I’m here with you.”

The woman cried harder. “You’re so kind…”

Under Wei Ying’s coaxing, the spy finally gathered her courage to try an “accidental encounter” with the Emperor after morning court.

Watching her return to her room to dress up, Wei Ying’s lips curved in satisfaction.

Ever since Xiao Qianxue left the palace, the force of the plot had grown lazy. With things between her and the Emperor progressing too smoothly, even the little system-chicken had no quests to give her.

No quests meant no draws. No draws meant no cards. And without cards, she wouldn’t be able to handle future plotlines.

Therefore she had to get this spy-girl back on her feet, stirring up little obstacles.

The beauty soon emerged in a garish crimson gown, spinning in place, skirts swirling, her looks brighter than flowers.

In less than half an hour, she was treating Wei Ying as her confidante. She lifted her skirts and asked, “Do you think this looks nice? Will His Majesty like it?”

Wei Ying propped her chin thoughtfully, then shook her head. “No. Do you have something more plain?”

In the dreams, the white moonlight beauty always wore pale greens and soft blues.

Following her advice, the woman changed into a light gauzy dress in pale hues, her long black hair left loose with only a wooden hairpin holding it up. When she walked back out, Wei Ying’s breath caught for a moment—she looked almost like her own reflection.

“I’m so nervous,” the girl whispered, wringing her hands. “His Majesty is so fierce… will she kill me?”

Wei Ying snapped out of her daze and smiled. “No, don’t be afraid. Even if His Majesty wanted to kill you, the way you look now—she couldn’t bear to.”

She reached out, brushed the girl’s cheek, and revealed a smile that was one-third tender, one-third indulgent, one-third sorrowful yet aloof—perfectly precise, like a pie chart.

It was the exclusive smile of the White Moonlight.

What protagonist could resist, once they saw it?

For the sake of a card draw, Wei Ying had unleashed her greatest skill.

The spy practiced alongside her, squinting and contorting her face. After much effort, she only managed something one-third close.

Wei Ying nodded with satisfaction nonetheless. “This takes practice. You’re learning fast already—good enough for now. Go on!”

The woman looked at her with teary eyes. “Then I’ll go.”

Wei Ying waved. “Go on!”

She took a few steps, but when she reached the doorway, she suddenly turned back, skirts clutched, crying again.

Tears streamed as she begged, “Can’t I not go? His Majesty is so scary…”

Wei Ying gently wiped away her tears. “Silly child, the Empress Dowager is scarier.”

The girl collapsed onto the bench, sobbing her heart out. “Waaah, life is so hard—waaah—”

Wei Ying bent over, dabbed away her tears with a handkerchief, and gave her that flawless White Moonlight smile again—more precise than any chart. “There, don’t cry. Nothing bad will happen.”

Seeing her smile, the girl’s heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t meet Wei Ying’s eyes. After a moment, she whispered, “His Majesty really won’t kill me?”

Wei Ying smiled. “Of course not. I’d never let her kill you.”

The girl lifted her watery gaze, lashes trembling. “Then I’ll go…”

Wei Ying waved cheerfully. “Go, little cicada!”

The beauty ran out, still crying as she went. “Waaah—waaah—”

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