Saving My Life By Simping For My Empress - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The distance between the two was too small, almost intimate.

The distance between the two of them was too close, bordering on a lingering embrace.

“Lying on the ground—what kind of decorum is this?” Wei Yu hurriedly averted his gaze. He bit his lip uncomfortably and made a move to get up from atop Qin Ji.

However, Qin Ji’s arms were tightened too firmly. With Wei Yu’s strength and this awkward posture, he simply could not break free.

Wei Yu was truly anxious now: “Qin Ji!”

If a palace servant were to walk in and see them like this, it would be a disaster.

Qin Ji took a bold risk with the great beauty; he rested his forehead against Wei Yu’s for a moment before finally letting go.

Wei Yu’s face flushed a deep crimson instantly. Even the skin of his neck, partially hidden by his collar, turned a shade of pink. He fled the scene in a panic, leaving Qin Ji with only the sight of his retreating back, as if staying for one more moment would mean being devoured alive.

Qin Ji didn’t get up. He sat on the floor with his legs propped up, touched his forehead where it had just met Wei Yu’s, and smiled.

His teacher was right; he truly had fallen for Wei Yu.

Qin Ji couldn’t quite trace the mental journey that led him here. He had only been in this book-world for a few months. In that short time, he had not only learned how to be a competent emperor but had also, for the first time, felt the stirrings of romantic love.

However, he didn’t know what Wei Yu thought of it. He wouldn’t use his status as Emperor to force Wei Yu. Given Wei Yu’s temperament, if he truly forced the issue, Wei Yu would likely stab him to death before taking his own life.

As long as Wei Yu lived well, ate well, and slept well, that was enough.

…

The wound on Qin Ji’s arm was quite deep and required ongoing medication. Gao De brought the medicine and fresh gauze to change the dressing.

“Gao-gonggong, let me do it.” Wei Yu had returned after taking a moment to clear his head, and he no longer showed the agitation from earlier. However, if one looked closely, his eyes were still shifty, not daring to meet Qin Ji’s gaze directly. He feared that the moment their eyes met, everything would spiral out of control again.

“Ah, then I’ll trouble the Prince.” Gao De, being highly perceptive, immediately cleared the space for Wei Yu.

Qin Ji glared at Gao De before turning back to Wei Yu. “Why are you stealing Gao De’s job?”

Wei Yu’s movements were very gentle. He unwound the gauze from Qin Ji’s arm layer by layer. Seeing the jagged, ugly wound, his heart sank.

Qin Ji deliberately used his left hand to tug at Wei Yu’s sleeve. “It’s not that bad, is it? Surely a Prince of Wei has seen an injury before?”

Wei Yu whispered, “But this injury was sustained for my sake.”

Except for the guards who protected him back in Wei, no one had ever stood in front of him. Even with guards, he had never actually encountered an assassin before, so no one had ever been hurt for him. Ironically, the first assassination attempt of his life was sent by his own brother, and the first person to be wounded for him was the man his brother dreamt of killing.

Wei Yu dipped a cloth in warm water and meticulously cleaned the area around the wound. His movements were excessively tender.

Qin Ji curled his lips into a smile. “Gao De, Wei Yu’s touch is much lighter than yours.”

Gao De chuckled and agreed repeatedly. Isn’t that obvious? Wei Yu was a pampered Prince whose fingers were like white jade, never having touched “spring water” (manual labor). How could an old eunuch like him compare?

Wei Yu applied fresh medicinal powder and wrapped the arm in new gauze. “Your Majesty should use your right arm less. Remember, do not exert strength,” he said, tying the end of the gauze into a neat knot.

Qin Ji lifted his arm to admire it. “Since you applied the medicine yourself, I will definitely take good care of it.” Even the bow Wei Yu tied looked better than the ones the imperial physicians made.

“Your Majesty, Prince, it is late. Please rest,” Gao De prompted warmly.

Wei Yu stood up. “Then I shall return to my quarters.”

Qin Ji caught his hand, looking at him imploringly. “Stay with me tonight, alright? It is, after all, both our birthdays.”

Those eyes, which usually intimidated the court, were now soft and pitiable.

“Alright,” Wei Yu agreed, as if possessed.

Qin Ji immediately made room. “Come, you sleep on the inside.”

Gao De was already used to this. He extinguished the candles and lowered the bed curtains as usual. Sleep, sleep. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Wei Yu found himself on the Emperor’s dragon bed yet again. He felt numb; he must have been bewitched by Qin Ji’s soft words.

Qin Ji noticed Wei Yu wasn’t sleeping. “Not tired?”

“I am tired,” Wei Yu said, closing his eyes tightly, refusing to open them again. Qin Ji gave a muffled laugh and closed his own eyes.

…

Unlike Wei Yu, who could sleep until dawn, Qin Ji had to wake up early every day. On the tenth day of the third month, he had to wake up especially early.

As the sovereign of a nation, his twentieth birthday was a grand affair. This was even after he had scaled things back; had it not been just one year since the previous Emperor’s death, there would have been even more ceremonies.

When the servants woke him, Qin Ji climbed out of bed quietly. Before he could leave, his sleeping robe was caught by a hand.

“Your Majesty, happy birthday.” Wei Yu had also woken up; he wanted to wish Qin Ji well before he left. Everything he had now was given by Qin Ji. He couldn’t afford a grand gift, but he could be the first to offer his congratulations.

Qin Ji patted Wei Yu’s shoulder. “I’ve received it. I’m very happy. You go back to sleep. Save your energy so I can take you to meet those people from Wei tonight.”

“You’re taking me to the banquet?” Wei Yu was surprised, given his awkward status as a hostage.

“There is one more birthday gift waiting for you when I return from the Ancestral Temple,” Qin Ji smiled and tucked Wei Yu back into the blankets. “Listen to me, sleep a bit longer.”

…

The reason for the early start was the trip to the Ancestral Temple. The Minister of Rites had spent the last few days cramming ritual etiquette into Qin Ji’s head.

The Ancestral Temple was outside the palace. After the sacrifices came the Capping Ceremony, and only after that could he return to Ziji Hall to rest before the evening banquet, where foreign envoys would present their gifts.

On the dragon carriage, Qin Ji began to doze off. The heavy ceremonial crown (mianliu) made it hard to lean back, so he propped his head on his hand. He wondered why so many princes in history killed each other for a throne that involved so much hard work.

…

At the temple, Qin Ji followed the grueling “kneel, stand, kneel again” process. His main grievance was reading the sacrificial text. The text was archaic and filled with obscure allusions. Thankfully, he had asked Wei Yu to help him parse the grammar and explain it word by word weeks ago. Without Wei Yu, he would have made a fool of himself. He truly missed pinyin and punctuation.

During a break, Qin Ji summoned Prince Cheng, an elder of the Qin clan.

“Your Majesty.” Prince Cheng prepared to kneel.

“Gao De,” Qin Ji signaled, and Gao De held the old man up. “Royal Great-Uncle, there is no need for such ceremony. I have something to discuss.”

Prince Cheng was wary. His impression of Qin Ji was still that of the “Tyrant.”

“Your Majesty, please speak.”

Qin Ji was direct: “Royal Great-Uncle, I know you have a grandson.”

Prince Cheng trembled. “Does Your Majesty wish to adopt my grandson as your heir?”

“You guessed correctly.”

Prince Cheng was confused. Qin Ji was only twenty. Why adopt now?

Qin Ji explained calmly, “The throne cannot be without an heir. I need a legitimate royal bloodline. Because… the person I love cannot bear children.”

“Is the lady infirm?” Prince Cheng asked, risking his life. “The imperial physicians are skilled…”

“Great-Uncle, no matter how skilled the physicians are, this person cannot bear children. He is a man,” Qin Ji stated.

Prince Cheng dropped his teacup in shock. “Your Majesty! Think twice! You are the sovereign; you must consider the state!”

Qin Ji’s gaze was steady. “I am considering the state. You and my grandfather were brothers. By adopting your grandson, the bloodline remains pure.” He bowed to the old man. “I beg for your fulfillment.”

Prince Cheng sighed. The Qin family seemed destined to produce “love seeds” (romantics). “I agree.”

Qin Ji was overjoyed, but Prince Cheng added conditions: “I want to raise him a bit longer until I pass. And… Your Majesty must marry first.”

Prince Cheng was testing him. If Qin Ji couldn’t make the man he loved the Empress, or if his love faded over time and he took a traditional harem, then he wouldn’t need an adopted heir.

“Rest assured, Great-Uncle, I will.” Qin Ji was in high spirits. Even if Wei Yu didn’t feel that way yet, he would work hard to win him over.

…

Returning to Ziji Hall past noon, Qin Ji found Wei Yu waiting for him.

“Why are you waiting for me?” Qin Ji felt warm. “Are you hungry?”

Wei Yu fidgeted with his sleeves. “I made a bowl of Longevity Noodles for you. Would you like to try them?”

Qin Ji was delighted. “You made them yourself?”

“They might… not look very good.”

“Anything you make is the best! No royal chef can compare!” Qin Ji was quick to praise. They ate two bowls together. The noodles were uneven, but the chicken broth was rich.

“How do you know how to cook?” Qin Ji asked.

“I only know how to make noodles, and I’m not good at rolling the dough.”

Qin Ji suddenly felt jealous. “Did you ever make noodles for Wei Qiong or Wei Wuxia?”

Wei Yu laughed. “They are my siblings; it’s normal to have eaten them, right?”

Qin Ji was unreasonably possessive. “Don’t ever make them noodles again. They don’t deserve it!”

“Alright, I won’t.” Wei Yu indulged him.

…

After the meal, Qin Ji presented his second gift. Gao De led in a woman dressed as a maid.

“Secret Guard ‘Bailu’ greets Your Majesty and the Prince.” She knelt on one knee.

“Wei Yu, this is Bailu. She is one of Chen Xuanwen’s top guards. I am giving her to you. Her martial arts are top-tier; she will protect you.”

To prove her skill, Bailu lifted her skirt to reveal various hidden weapons strapped to her legs, then showed the mechanisms on her wrists. Wei Yu was fascinated.

“Bailu is your maid and your guard. Wherever you go, she follows,” Qin Ji said. Even if one day you decide to return to Wei, she will protect you.

Wei Yu was troubled. “You give me so much, but I have nothing to give you.”

“Who says?” Qin Ji counted the affairs Wei Yu helped him handle and the lessons he taught him. “Wei Yu, you have been a benefactor to me and to the Qin State.”

…

That afternoon, they played “Five-in-a-Row” (Gomoku) to pass the time. Qin Ji, thinking he’d be an expert from his student days, lost repeatedly to Wei Yu.

“Why do I always lose?”

Wei Yu began explaining the strategy. Qin Ji realized his brain wasn’t built for that level of logic. “Don’t be discouraged,” Wei Yu smiled. “All board games share similarities. I’m good at Go, so I’m just applying those principles.”

Suddenly, Gao De entered. “Your Majesty, the Wei envoy has entered the palace early, requesting an audience with the Prince.”

Qin Ji’s smile vanished. “To request an audience only now… how rude.”

Wei Yu handed him a cup of tea. “Don’t get angry on your birthday. It’s not worth it.”

“Do you want to see them? If not, I’ll chase them away.”

Wei Yu thought for a moment. “I’ll see them. I want to see what they intend.”

Qin Ji ordered the meeting to take place in the Imperial Garden, specifically in a curtained pavilion, leaving the envoy to stand in the cold wind outside.

…

Wei Yu met the envoy, Qu Tingquan—a loyal follower of his brother.

“I greet the Second Prince,” Qu Tingquan bowed outside the pavilion.

Wei Yu ignored him, sipping his tea. After a long silence, he said coldly, “Rise.” He didn’t offer a seat.

“The King and I have been worried about you,” Qu Tingquan lied.

“Does my brother not know exactly how I am?” Wei Yu snapped.

Qu Tingquan was embarrassed. He expected the hostage prince to be moved to see someone from his homeland. Instead, he met a wall of ice.

“Prince, I have an important matter. Please dismiss your attendants.”

Wei Yu slammed his teacup down. “I was recently kidnapped; my guards stay with me. Speak or leave.”

Qu Tingquan, seeing the fierce gaze of the “maid” Bailu, gave in. “The King wishes for you to facilitate a marriage between the Emperor of Qin and our Eldest Princess (Wei Wuxia).”

Wei Yu smashed his cup. “Nonsense! There is no such destiny between the Emperor and my sister!”

He was furious. Was he mad at his siblings’ shamelessness—sending assassins one day and suggesting marriage the next? Or was he mad that someone was coveting Qin Ji?

Qu Tingquan knelt. “Prince, please consider the state!”

Wei Yu wrapped his cloak tighter. “Qu Tingquan, Wei lost the war because people like you think only of schemes, not the people. Get out. If you mention this again, I will kill you.”

…

Back at Ziji Hall, Qin Ji noticed Wei Yu’s dark mood. He quickly learned the truth from Bailu.

“So Qu Tingquan wants you to play matchmaker for me and Wei Wuxia?” Qin Ji sneered. Did Wei Qiong think he was a remote-controlled car he could steer?

“He must have a high pillow to dream such beautiful dreams,” Qin Ji mocked. “Bailu, is there more?”

“I suspect,” Bailu said, “they might try to force your hand—perhaps by compromising the Princess’s virtue today and forcing a marriage.”

Qin Ji was disgusted. Such a low-tier political move. “If he likes matchmaking so much, I’ll play matchmaker for him.”

He turned to Wei Yu. “I don’t doubt you.”

Wei Yu’s mood improved. “Your Majesty, it’s time for the banquet.”

…

The banquet was held in the Taiji Palace. Qin Ji sat at the head, but notably, there was an identical table set right next to his own. This sparked frantic whispering among the guests. Was there a secret Empress?

Zhao Anhong, the Prime Minister, suffered in silence. Your Majesty, are you trying to scare everyone to death?

When the guests were all seated, Qin Ji and Wei Yu arrived.

“All rise,” Qin Ji said after taking his seat. When the officials looked up and saw Wei Yu sitting in the seat of honor next to the Emperor, a collective gasp swept the room.

Qin Ji swirled his wine, a cold smile on his lips. “Is it cold, everyone?”