Saving My Life By Simping For My Empress - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Qin Ji is rambling quite a bit, sounding like an old mother fussing over her son.

Wei Yu walked into Qin Ji’s study filled with total bewilderment. Gao De was stacking memorials on the desk; the pile was so high it reached the level of Qin Ji’s head as he sat there.

What was the Tyrant planning now? Summoning him to the high-security study… surely it wasn’t just to make him grind ink?

Qin Ji, who had looked utterly soul-crushed a moment ago, suddenly had his eyes light up when he saw Wei Yu: “Wei Yu, come here quickly!”

Wei Yu: “…” It seems the Tyrant’s brain has truly malfunctioned.

Walking over slowly, Wei Yu arched his hands in salute: “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

Qin Ji patted the extra space on his wide chair: “Come, sit here.”

Wei Yu: “???” Qin Ji was asking him to sit by his side? Was this a mistake?

Seeing Wei Yu remain motionless, Qin Ji urged him again: “Come on, sit down!”

Having no other choice, Wei Yu moved over and sat. However, he didn’t dare take up much space; he perched on the very edge, with barely a sliver of his weight on the chair, his whole body tense and suspended.

“Why are you sitting so far out?” Qin Ji stood up, scooped Wei Yu up, and plopped him firmly back into the seat. “How can you even sit on such a tiny bit of space?”

Gao De’s expression was hard to describe. Something is definitely wrong with His Majesty’s head. Should I call an Imperial Physician to check his brain?

Qin Ji pulled out a memorial, opened it, and placed it between himself and Wei Yu: “Wei Yu, read this to me.”

Wei Yu: “…” Do you have any idea that this is Qin State internal policy? I am a Prince of the Wei State!

He felt exhausted. After his rebirth, he had feared he would suffer the Tyrant’s physical torture and be better off dead; now, he was still being tortured—but on a mental level.

Gao De initially wanted to stop Qin Ji, but then he thought: I’m just a servant, why should I stick my neck out in front of the Emperor? I’m not a remonstrating official. Forget it, don’t provoke him.

Under Qin Ji’s expectant gaze, Wei Yu began to read the memorial. Qin Ji was clever; he paid close attention to where Wei Yu paused for punctuation to help himself recognize the characters. There were many traditional characters that weren’t just “not identical” to simplified ones—they were completely unrelated.

As a qualified prince, Wei Yu was different from the Tyrant, who had only ascended the throne because his father had no other sons. Wei Yu had been taught by masters since childhood and was naturally brilliant. Even his Royal Father had said that if he weren’t a prince, he would have at least placed second in the Imperial Examinations. His talent was undeniable.

Wei Yu handled the memorial Qin Ji couldn’t understand with ease. Once he finished reading, he naturally understood the matter at hand.

He peeked at Qin Ji. He was actually curious: how would the Tyrant respond?

How would he respond? Ha. He hadn’t understood a word.

So what if there was punctuation? If he couldn’t understand Classical Chinese, he couldn’t understand it!

Qin Ji was on the brink of a breakdown. God, please, send me home. I just want to be a rich second-generation heir inheriting the family business; I can’t carry the weight of being an Emperor.

“Wei Yu, if it were you, how would you solve this?” Qin Ji decided to seek help from the “real” prince.

Wei Yu, once again: “…”

He seriously suspected Qin Ji was fishing for a reason to trap him.

Under Qin Ji’s burning gaze, Wei Yu finally stated his solution: “Disaster relief is the duty of the Imperial Court, but the victims must not become dependent on it. ‘Relief through work’ is the appropriate method.”

Qin Ji grabbed a vermilion brush and stuffed it into Wei Yu’s hand: “Perfect. You help me write the response.”

Gao De was horrified: “!!!”

What is going on with His Majesty? He’s not violent anymore, but he’s not sane either. Maybe I really should find a physician.

The thought of calling the doctor, which had just been extinguished, began to stir in Gao De’s mind again.

Wei Yu stared at the vermilion brush in his hand, his gaze dull. Fine. He was now absolutely certain that this dim-witted Qin Ji was definitely not the Tyrant who tortured him in his previous life.

Because no matter how absurd a ruler was, they wouldn’t let someone else use the vermilion brush to reply to memorials at will.

Under Qin Ji’s sparkling, expectant eyes, Wei Yu dipped the brush in cinnabar and began to write the response on the memorial.

He didn’t consider sabotaging the document. Although he had been humiliated by the Qin State, that was the Tyrant’s fault and had nothing to do with the Qin commoners. In any case, a qualified prince should always want the people to suffer less.

Qin Ji observed Wei Yu. Wei Yu’s calligraphy was excellent—each character was neat and upright, looking almost as if it were printed. His brushstrokes weren’t sharp or aggressive; judging a person by their writing, Wei Yu was likely a gentle person by nature.

Such a fine person staying in his own country could have been a pillar of the Wei State, even if he weren’t Emperor.

“Your Majesty, the memorial is finished. Would you like to check it?” Wei Yu remained on guard; since he hadn’t written anything inappropriate, he wasn’t afraid to show it.

Qin Ji snapped out of his daze, looked at the beautiful vermilion calligraphy, and waved his hand: “No need. Just keep going.”

Wei Yu: “???” He really doesn’t treat me like an outsider?

“Wei Yu’s handwriting is truly beautiful.” Gao De took a peek as he collected the memorial. It was much better than His Majesty’s handwriting, which looked like it had been scratched out by a chicken’s foot.

“Gao De,” Qin Ji asked gloomily, “is my handwriting that ugly?”

Gao De was terrified and dropped to his knees instantly: “Your servant misspoke!”

Qin Ji: “…” He scared the life out of me, why does he just drop to his knees like that?

“Go and get some of my old writing. I want to compare and see just how ugly it is.” Qin Ji thought that since the Tyrant was an Emperor and the late Emperor’s only son, his writing couldn’t be that bad.

Gao De’s expression was strained.

Your Majesty, can we have a little self-awareness?

Gao De silently went to fetch the papers the Tyrant had used for practice, hoping only that the Emperor wouldn’t fly into a rage and execute both him and Wei Yu upon seeing them.

“Your Majesty, I have brought them.” Gao De respectfully presented the rice paper.

Qin Ji reached out, opened one at random, and froze. This…

The Tyrant’s handwriting was actually uglier than his own, and he was a modern person who had barely touched a brush! What kind of ghostly scribbles were these?

Qin Ji tossed the paper back: “Go burn this immediately!” It was an eyesore.

Gao De: “…” So, Your Majesty, what exactly are you doing? Did you really not know how bad your own writing was?

But as a mere eunuch, his life depended on a single word from Qin Ji. He said nothing and simply followed orders to burn the paper.

“Wait,” Qin Ji stopped him. “Who used to give me lessons? Invite them back. Starting tomorrow, I want to take classes.”

In the modern world, Qin Ji wasn’t a top student, but he wasn’t a failure either. He really couldn’t stand being an illiterate. Besides, since he might never leave this world, he had to survive.

Take the memorials, for instance. He had no intention of being a Tyrant, so he had to learn to read them himself. Moreover… Wei Yu would eventually go back to the Wei State; he couldn’t help him read memorials forever.

Qin Ji felt a bit dejected. He didn’t want Wei Yu to leave him.

Wei Yu finished another memorial and happened to turn his head, only to see Qin Ji’s eyes were empty, staring blankly at the table.

He stopped his brush and looked closely. He realized that Qin Ji seemed to look a bit different from his previous life.

In his memory, the Tyrant’s eyebrows were thick, dark, and always scowling—very terrifying. But the Qin Ji before him clearly had handsome, star-like eyes. The Tyrant in his memory always had stubble and looked a bit unkempt, damaging the imperial image, whereas this Qin Ji was clean and tidy.

The difference in personality was even greater. This person was a bit silly and not at all violent.

Wei Yu thought of the supernatural tales he had read. The books mentioned “soul possession.” Could the Emperor of Qin have been possessed?

The startling thought gave Wei Yu a jolt. The vermilion brush slipped from his hand and rolled onto his clothes, leaving a bright cinnabar stain.

Crucially, it startled Qin Ji.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Qin Ji snapped back to reality.

Wei Yu lowered his gaze: “Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I dropped the brush.”

Qin Ji sighed in relief: “I thought it was something serious. It’s just that.”

He personally bent down to pick up the brush, though it was now dirty from the fall.

“Someone, come here.” Qin Ji didn’t know much, but he knew how to call for help.

Gao Huan entered: “Your Majesty.”

“Clean this up.” Qin Ji left the mess to the servants. He grabbed Wei Yu’s wrist and pulled him up.

“The clothes I ordered from the Palace Administration aren’t ready yet. For now, just make do with my old robes.” Qin Ji led Wei Yu back to his bedchamber.

Gao De, who had just finished finding a teacher for Qin Ji, returned only to be sent off again to find old robes for Wei Yu to change into.

Wei Yu felt more and more that this person was possessed. The Tyrant had never given him a single garment to ward off the cold, yet this one was being overly considerate.

“Tell the Palace Administration to hurry up and finish the new clothes soon.” Qin Ji looked at how the robes were far too big for Wei Yu and felt worried. He said to Wei Yu, “If you have nothing to do, don’t go outside so you don’t get caught in the wind. If you absolutely must go out, make sure your cloak is fastened tightly.”

Qin Ji was rambling quite a bit, sounding like an old mother fussing over her son.

Yet, Wei Yu listened to every single word seriously.

In his memory, it had been a very long time since he had heard such words of deep concern.

“Your Majesty, it is time for the midday meal.” Without realizing it, it was already noon.

The corners of Qin Ji’s mouth curled up. He had to admit, being an Emperor meant eating very well. The Imperial Kitchen was truly impressive.

“Wei Yu, come on, let’s go eat.” Qin Ji happily called Wei Yu to join him, sounding like a student calling his best friend to the cafeteria.

Gao De looked up at the ceiling of the Ziji Palace, unable to understand why the Emperor had suddenly stopped abusing Wei Yu and was instead so eager to treat him well.