I've Decided To Be This Tyrant's Dark Moonlight - Chapter 99

Within the vermilion palace walls, a narrow jade-paved path wound its way through.

Several eunuchs carried the imperial palanquin, and on it sat the Emperor, head slightly lowered. The twelve-jewel tassels swayed before her eyes, casting overlapping shadows across her brows.

Her chin rested upon her hand. Her pale skin, wrapped in a robe embroidered with soaring golden dragons, seemed even whiter in the sunlight. The faintly curled fingers looked almost transparent under the light, delicate blue veins faintly visible beneath.

Palace attendants passed along the path, bowing respectfully with a soft greeting of “Your Majesty.”

Yunshao remained immersed in her own thoughts, oblivious to the world around her—until suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in her line of sight.

Her long lashes trembled. Those watery eyes widened, staring in disbelief past the palace wall.

From the side path came a young woman in plain robes, hair simply tied up, head slightly lowered, her demeanor calm and graceful. In an instant, the vermilion walls seemed to shatter, fragments of memory flashing chaotically before Yunshao’s eyes. That figure walked toward her from the end of the path, carrying with her the faint, sweet scent of roasted chestnuts from the day they first met.

In that instant, Yunshao’s body tensed. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she softly whispered, “Teacher…”

Meanwhile, Wei Ying was secretly peeking from behind the wall.

Standing on a little stool, she poked her head out, fingers gripping the top of the wall, able to see everything below clearly.

Originally, she had assumed that the Emperor, upon seeing her so-called “white moonlight,” would instantly rush forward in excitement to reunite. Yet what she saw instead was Yunshao’s face draining of color, her lips trembling lightly, her body actually shrinking back in fear.

Wei Ying’s head filled with question marks: Could it be that she had a bad relationship with the Emperor before? Did she… hit her often?

No—that couldn’t be. If she really hit her often, wouldn’t the Emperor be delighted right now?

On the wide dragon throne, Yunshao curled her body slightly, black hair damp with sweat sticking to her pale face, her posture betraying a weak, helpless fragility.

Wei Ying’s heart softened a little at the sight. But then she remembered the card-drawing system and forced herself to stay hidden, crouching low against the wall to wait for the mission prompt.

According to the plot, the Emperor should have fallen in love at first sight with this beauty, bringing her into the palace to favor above all others—so much so that even the female lead was momentarily overshadowed. It was precisely at that point that the heroine, disappointed beyond repair, would plead illness and retreat to Yunwai Temple for recuperation.

But ever since Wei Ying had gotten involved, the story had gone wildly astray, sprinting in uncontrollable directions.

By now, even the “power of plot” seemed exhausted, growing lazy. Otherwise, how could the beauty have been washing clothes in the Laundry Bureau for an entire month and still not had any contact with the Emperor?

So Wei Ying decided to give the plot a push—stimulate it, make it pull itself together and start working again!

As long as the plot resumed its course and the Emperor developed the idea of bringing the beauty into the palace, the little system chicken would issue her a mission to stop it. Then she could complete the task and draw another card.

She’d even thought out how to intervene.

The moment the Emperor showed signs of affection, she would leap down from above, pounce on the Emperor, and snuff out those worldly desires—while also giving everyone a taste of the legendary “Heavenly Descent Palm.”

The little system chick’s “beep-beep-beep” alarm rang in her mind, and Wei Ying rubbed her hands together in excitement.

But the very next second, the sound cut off abruptly.

Wei Ying tilted her head. “Little chick, why’d you stop beeping? Is it about to issue the mission?”

System Chick: “Caw-caw-caw, nope, no need to issue a mission.”

Wei Ying: “What? Did you break down? Are you malfunctioning? Oh, little chick, you died such a tragic death!”

System Chick: “…You dumb host, just look down there!”

Wei Ying leaned over, peeking beneath the wall.

Yunshao’s gaze was icy cold as she looked at the approaching girl. “So it’s you?”

The little cicada-like girl struggled not to flee. Just standing before the Emperor had drained all her strength. At those words, she flinched violently, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground. “Zzzrr—waaahhh—Your Majesty, spare meee!”

The “white moonlight” image shattered in a single instant.

Wei Ying sighed in disappointment. “Alas, this child has no talent at all.”

Even after she had poured out all her teachings, how could she wear the skin of a “white moonlight” and still put on a performance like this?

Wei Ying’s pain! And her ears were hurting too!

Looking at the beauty, whose face was nearly identical to her own, crying like a wailing cicada, Wei Ying’s chest tightened. She wanted to jump down just to shut the girl up. But then she thought better of it—surely the Emperor must be even more conflicted at this moment.

After all, who wouldn’t feel gutted to see their supposed “white moonlight” sobbing and screeching like a banshee?

With interest, Wei Ying observed Yunshao’s expression. The Emperor stood frozen, staring at the cicada-like beauty, her face a tangle of emotions.

Wei Ying whispered, “Little chick, don’t you think the Emperor’s face is covered in words?”

The system, as always, couldn’t follow her train of thought. “Huh? No, her face looks perfectly clean.”

Wei Ying poked her cheek with a finger, smiling. “Look closer. Here it says ‘life is meaningless,’ and over there it says ‘the sky is falling.’”

She couldn’t help but chuckle with glee.

Seeing the Emperor resist the pull of the plot and refuse to take the cicada beauty into the palace—outwardly she looked worried, but inside she was secretly delighted.

Yunshao strode forward, looking down upon the girl with raised chin, and barked sharply: “Who allowed you to appear before me again?”

Beauty: “Waaaahhh—it was Lady Ying who told me to come!”

She sold out her ally in an instant.

Wei Ying’s smile vanished, her little face falling flat. She quietly hopped off the stool, frowning. What now? Not only did I fail to trick the plot and draw a card, I even got sold out. How am I supposed to explain this to the Emperor?

She trudged away gloomily toward the Jade Dew Hall. After a few steps, she thought perhaps she should hide at the Noble Consort’s quarters first—but then remembered the consort had already left the palace.

Had they reached Yunzhou yet? Would they be able to block the next plot-driven twist?

Wei Ying sighed again, and turned instead toward the Changchun Palace, hoping for a little comfort from the Empress.

When she arrived, the Empress was still bent over her desk reading.

Wei Ying climbed onto the beauty couch as if she lived there, heaving a deep sigh. “Alas.”

She’d miscalculated.

First, she hadn’t expected the “power of plot” to be this useless—failing at even such a trivial chance encounter.

Second, she hadn’t expected the little cicada to betray her so cleanly, without even the courtesy of a pie chart smile before confessing.

Lying sprawled across the couch, she accepted the tea a maid handed over, sighing once more as she inwardly cheered the plot on: Come on, Little Plot, pull yourself together! Don’t wilt on me—how can you fail at something so small?

The Empress raised her eyes. “Yingying, what troubles you?”

Wei Ying drained her tea. “Your Majesty, please go on with your work. I’m just here to sit for a while.”

The Empress tilted her head, eyes twinkling with a faint smile, and then calmly returned to her reading.

Wei Ying flopped about like a dead salted fish, peeking at the Empress immersed in her books, recalling the woman’s fate in the original novel.

Later in the book, the Noble Consort took her own life, the heroine descended into darkness, yet the Empress suppressed her and kept her from gaining power.

Eventually the Empress withered away, leaving the position vacant. Only then did the heroine seize authority over the inner palace, climbing step by step.

But Wei Ying had inexplicable faith in Yue Qinghui. Knowing her personality, it was impossible for her to “wither away.” Far more likely, she’d fake her death and slip away. It was nothing strange—after all, Wei Ying herself had taught her the trick of faking death.

Fake death feels great once, and feels even greater every time you repeat it.

Sensing Wei Ying’s gaze, Yue Qinghui looked up. “What is Yingying thinking about?”

Wei Ying sat up. “Will Your Majesty one day leave the palace?”

Yue Qinghui thought for a moment, then replied calmly, “Yes.”

Wei Ying lay back down. So the “withering away” in the book really was just a death-feigning escape. She knew this palace could never cage the woman before her. Born a swan, she was never meant to live her life trapped in this gilded prison.

Yue Qinghui smiled lightly. “But, Yingying—I’ll always remain not far from you.”

Wei Ying blinked. “Eh? What do you mean?”

Yue Qinghui winked playfully.

The cold, elegant beauty giving a wink left Wei Ying clutching her chest. Yue Qinghui was always so proper and composed—this sudden wink, this little act of mischief, was too much for her to handle.

Too cute!

By dusk, Wei Ying finally left the Changchun Palace.

After so long in the palace, she had figured things out: the Emperor and the Empress lived like respectful coworkers—polite, distant, never interfering with each other. Other than working late on state affairs, they barely interacted at all.

So hiding in the Changchun Palace was truly the wisest choice.

Sneaking back under the cover of night, she headed toward the Jade Dew Hall. She figured she’d take a bath and rest, then return to the Empress’s place in the morning while the Emperor was at court—so the Emperor wouldn’t be able to find her.

But halfway there, she froze. At this hour, the Emperor was almost certainly waiting in the Jade Dew Hall. Returning would be walking straight into the trap. She knew this woman far too well. So she turned and went instead to the Golden House.

The once desolate Golden House had long been cleaned and refurbished. Now it was spotless and neat, a place she often stayed in for fun.

She boiled water at the stove, poured it into the bathing tub, and slipped out of her clothes to sink into the steaming bath.

Eyes closed, she pondered her dilemma. The plot had collapsed—without missions, she couldn’t collect memory shards, couldn’t open blind boxes, couldn’t draw cards.

But soon the New Policies would be announced. Surely the court factions would make some move. Unlike before, the Eastern Palace and the Empress Dowager had been strangely quiet. Their silence only made Wei Ying feel something ominous was brewing.

She furrowed her brows. This situation is anything but simple.

Just as she was deep in thought, a pair of pale arms silently slipped around her shoulders from behind, pulling her close.

Wei Ying jolted, but upon catching the familiar scent, she sighed helplessly, muttering, “Your Majesty… why are you here?”

Yunshao bowed her head, her reflection rippling in the water. At the corner of her lifted eye, that single red mole glowed faintly.

She asked softly, “I should be asking—you, Yingying. Why are you hiding from me?”

Wei Ying: “Uh… Your Majesty, let me explain!”

But before she could, Yunshao smiled gently, scooped a bit of water, and sprinkled it onto Wei Ying’s cheek. “Is it because you were jealous?”

Wei Ying: “Huh??”

Yunshao continued, “You saw how much she resembled the you from before, and thought I might be moved by her?” She chuckled softly. “Yingying, you’re too lacking in confidence. I didn’t fall in love with my teacher because of her face alone.”

Wei Ying froze. “Not because of her looks?”

Yunshao was quiet for a moment, then lowered her gaze, her voice soft and vulnerable. “…Well, maybe a tiny bit because of that.”

With that, she quickly stripped down and slipped into the tub, burrowing into Wei Ying’s arms. “Anyway, Yingying, you caring about me like this makes me so happy.”

Wei Ying: “…Could you maybe be less happy about it, Your Majesty?”

I can’t even draw a card anymore, for crying out loud!

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