When Consort Yi saw her friend Yan Xiaoying again, it was at Emperor Chunde’s funeral.

Amidst a hall full of white mourning clothes and weeping, a face showing no trace of affected grief stood out particularly conspicuously.

However, the always astute Princess Ruixiang would certainly not make such an obvious misstep.

She took something out from her snack pocket under her mourning garment, applied it to the corners of her eyes, and within moments her eyes were rimmed with red.

It was no wonder Xiaoying couldn’t cry. She and her husband, Prince Ruixiang, had just arrived in the capital at noon. In less than a day, the Emperor had passed away.

In her memory, that robust emperor who had seemed capable of living a hundred years had, in a mere decade, developed white hair and symptoms of physical weakness.

Initially, Xiaoying couldn’t understand why, but upon seeing the beautiful consorts weeping bitterly in the hall, she suddenly comprehended everything.

When Empress Tang and Consort Shang had been competing for power, the number of consorts who could rise to prominence in the palace had been limited.

Emperor Chunde had focused much of his attention on state affairs, and had exercised moderation in his relations with women.

But after Yi became the new Empress Tang, she no longer restrained the palace women from vying for favor. As long as they weren’t ambitious enough to compete for the position of Empress, gaining the Emperor’s attention was considered a matter of individual capability.

At once, various schemes to “coincidentally” encounter His Majesty emerged in endless succession.

Men in middle age are particularly susceptible in this regard, and some women have a special talent for making men believe they are still virile. That sudden recapturing of confidence, more than feminine allure, can make older men obsessed.

However, some unsavory methods come at the cost of depleting health. Burning the candle at both ends—between bedroom affairs and state matters—gradually exhausted his precious vitality.

The decline of a person often occurs in an instant. So when Emperor Chunde experienced a moment of dizziness while hunting and fell from his horse, hitting his head, his condition quickly deteriorated.

Before losing consciousness, he at least remembered the important matter of succession, summoning his chief ministers and announcing the transfer of power to his eldest son, Feng Yuan.

However, this edict was quite peculiar. While Feng Yuan was named Crown Prince and heir to the throne, his wife Yan was designated as a secondary consort.

The implication was clear: when his son was merely a prince, he could indulge in whatever caprices he pleased.

But once he became Emperor, how could a woman of obscure origins sit in the position of Empress?

Emperor Chunde had even chosen a future Crown Princess for his eldest son—a woman from the powerful Zhou family, virtuous and beautiful, worthy to be the Empress of the nation.

After completing the edict and dispatching urgent messengers to summon Feng Yuan to the capital, Emperor Chunde’s condition worsened, showing signs of a stroke.

Emperor Chunde had presented his son with the final test that all rulers must face: a choice between empire and love.

He believed that with power within easy reach, Feng Yuan would weigh the advantages and disadvantages and make his choice.

After all, more than ten years had passed, and even the deepest love should have dissipated by now. What about a woman could be worth a lingering attachment?

Perhaps Feng Yuan would even secretly appreciate his father for providing him with a reasonable excuse to marry another virtuous and elegant wife.

After all, over the years, news from the Prince’s residence in Jiangzhe occasionally reached Emperor Chunde’s ears.

His son’s life with that female bandit wasn’t as harmonious as it appeared.

Otherwise, why had that woman not been with child for a full decade?

It was said that Yan Xiaoying lacked all wifely virtues. When arguing with Feng Yuan, she never yielded, even biting and scratching his face—more than one servant from the Prince’s residence had witnessed such scenes.

There had even been several occasions when Feng Yuan was driven from the residence by this fierce woman, forcing him to spend the night in the military camp.

Hearing this, Emperor Chunde could hardly believe that this tolerant man was his eldest son.

But that woman was also somewhat cunning. Perhaps fearing her husband might change his heart, she had somehow found a secret method and finally given birth to a child.

Such ploys were commonly used by women. Emperor Chunde thought this was the perfect opportunity to allow his son to change his primary consort without damaging their father-son relationship.

However, when Prince Ruixiang entered the capital, he brought fifty thousand elite troops without imperial summons, disregarding the prohibition against unauthorized military entry into the capital. With such a formidable force, he entered the city gates.

This news made Emperor Chunde’s eyes, which had just regained clarity, turn blood-red with anger.

What did Feng Yuan mean by this? Did he suspect the imperial summons was a trap, leading him to bring an army in full armor to blatantly storm the city gates and surround the palace?

When Feng Yuan arrived at his bedside, Emperor Chunde’s throat was filled with phlegm. Moving his eyeballs—the only part of his body he could still control—he asked in a muffled voice why, when he was being summoned to inherit the throne, Feng Yuan had to make such a show of force, as if staging a coup.

When Feng Yuan entered the palace, he was fully armored, his sword still at his waist. The imperial guard commanders knew he was the heir to the throne who had been summoned by imperial edict, so none dared to remove the Grand Prince’s sword.

Even the Zhou lady, reportedly His Majesty’s chosen future Crown Princess, mustered her courage and, amidst the palace attendants, assumed the posture of a virtuous empress. In front of several ministers, she gently urged the Grand Prince to remove his armor before seeing His Majesty.

As a result, without even glancing at her, the woman was rudely pushed aside by Prince Ruixiang’s guards.

Feng Yuan sat at some distance from the sickbed, looking coldly at his father, who had become almost unrecognizable in his weakness: “My ability to inherit the throne is not your favor, but what I’ve earned through my own merits.”

If the son designated to receive the edict had not been him but the Sixth or Seventh Prince, he would still have surrounded the imperial city today and changed the course of events.

Why need a ridiculous imperial edict that sought various ways to humiliate his Xiaoying?

Emperor Chunde knew Feng Yuan’s temperament, but hadn’t expected that at his age, he would still display the stubbornness of a young man.

What was he doing? Coming to show off his might to his dying father?

Feng Yuan stood like a tower before the bed, his shadow enveloping the soon-to-decay body. Looking at Emperor Chunde’s condition, he said calmly, “For ten years, I’ve lived far away in Jiangzhe, not because I lacked the ability to return earlier, but because Xiaoying enjoys greater freedom. If she were to be a prince’s consort of ambiguous status in the capital, there would inevitably be ignorant people parading before her, adding filth to her life. If she desires it, I would offer her even the imperial throne. How could you, Father Emperor, issue such an absurd edict?”

Since his father didn’t cherish their already meager father-son relationship, he couldn’t blame him for being disrespectful, leading his troops straight into the capital.

Imperial succession by edict? He couldn’t care less! Even if it earned him a reputation for usurping power, so what?

Let future history books write what they wish! But his primary wife could only be Yan Xiaoying of the Yan family!

Emperor Chunde trembled with anger, muttering indistinctly: “A dignified man, manipulated by a woman…”

“What’s wrong with being influenced by a woman? My mother was so virtuous, offering you strategies, yet she faced your suspicion because of her outstanding talents. Mu Shen, harboring ill intentions, wanted to force my mother away from you, so he colluded with the Wei people to set a trap that led to my mother falling into the Wei people’s snare. At that time, didn’t you feel quite relieved? Just like today, bestowing me with the ‘favor’ of thinking you finally had a reasonable excuse to marry a woman from a prestigious family? You didn’t openly abandon your disgraced primary wife, maintaining a reputation for being faithful, yet you allowed her to be tormented by the women of the rear palace until she died with resentment. Someone like you is unworthy of being a man—you’re not even as good as a woman!”

Emperor Chunde trembled all over from the scolding, pointing at Feng Yuan: “You… you…”

He wanted to say that such a rebellious son was unworthy of succession! But now, he had truly raised a tiger to his peril—this ungrateful wolf cub had already led a great army into the capital.

Feng Yuan was right; if he wanted to succeed to the throne, he needed no one’s favor!

Feng Yuan rose coldly. He didn’t want to remain in the same room with this man any longer, or it would trigger all his dormant violence.

That day, not long after Feng Yuan left, Emperor Chunde choked on the phlegm in his throat and breathed his last.

It was said that Emperor Chunde had left an edict before his death stating that the position for his wife in his tomb would be reserved for his first wife, Lady Ye, whose remains would be moved for joint burial.

Such a pretentious edict was naturally torn to pieces on the new Emperor’s desk.

His mother was buried in Jiangzhe, facing the mountains and waters she had loved. A man’s useless, cheap remorse should be buried with his bones underground, never to see the light of day again.

On the day of his ascension, Yan Xiaoying was proclaimed Empress by the new Emperor.

With her phoenix crown, embroidered robes, and trailing ceremonial dress, her brilliant and striking features made people too dazzled to look directly at her. Walking step by step toward the imperial throne alongside the tall man, she was indeed supremely noble.

Yet the fact that Yan, a woman of salt merchant origins, could securely hold the position of Empress was truly hard for many to accept.

Some elder ministers’ wives, relying on their aristocratic backgrounds, took it upon themselves to teach the new Empress proper etiquette, while suggesting she learn from former Empress Tang’s virtues by expanding the imperial harem to provide His Majesty with beautiful consorts.

After all, she had been married to the Emperor for over a decade with only one son—the imperial lineage was indeed thin.

The new Empress, hearing these words, merely smiled and said: “His Majesty favors martial prowess and dislikes delicate women. If any of your families have daughters with strong martial skills, feel free to send them. If they can defeat me, they may enter the palace.”

What kind of absurd statement was this? Now that she had become Empress, shouldn’t she know better than to behave like a street market shrew, fighting and pulling hair with women entering the palace?

Yet there were indeed some presumptuous military families who sent their daughters, claiming they had practiced martial arts since childhood and would surely please His Majesty.

Before these women could enter the palace, a martial arts tournament was again held in the capital, gathering martial experts from Dafeng and even foreign countries.

Among the various schools, the representative of Swordmaster Xiao Jiumu was a masked woman with a slender figure.

Although a woman, she had inherited the sword techniques that Swordmaster Xiao had recently devoted himself to creating. With ten years of rigorous training, her swordsmanship consecutively defeated several masters, stunning the audience.

No one knew this woman’s background, but she had the new Emperor’s support. When she decisively kicked two men off the platform, the new Emperor stood up, carried a cup of water to her, and said:

“If you’ve had enough fun, go back now. The sun is too harsh; if you stay out here any longer, you’ll complain about your face hurting tonight.” The usually cold and taciturn Emperor spoke with gentle persuasion. When such a tall, handsome ruler showed tenderness, it naturally stirred the hearts of those watching.

The noble ladies and girls in the viewing stands blushed with excitement.

So it was true that His Majesty preferred martial women! This both delighted and disheartened those women who knew some martial arts.

Although they had some fighting skills, the woman on the platform was too formidable!

According to some experts, this woman had surpassed her teacher. No one knew how Swordmaster Xiao had trained her, but if she hadn’t been holding back, those martial experts who fought against her would likely have been either dead or seriously injured.

They wondered if the arrogant Empress would regret her boastful words. Once this outstanding disciple of Swordmaster Xiao entered the palace, how would the salt merchant Empress handle the situation?

But at that moment, the woman removed the veil that had been shielding her from the sun, revealing a stunningly beautiful face, smiling as she allowed the new Emperor to personally hold the cup for her to drink.

Everyone was dumbfounded, staring blankly at the woman being personally attended to by the new Emperor.

“Isn’t… isn’t that the Empress?”

“Heavens, it is the Empress! She possesses such skills!”

The Third Prince, now Prince Zhenxi Feng Qiwu, who had been suppressed for many years, could finally speak freely without restraint. With refreshed spirits, he began boasting about his sister-in-law: “What’s this? You haven’t seen the Empress’s magnificent display when she killed Wei’s master Sui Yin years ago! Surrounded by over a hundred men attacking a courier station, the Empress remained calm in the face of danger, commanded effectively, slaughtered them until blood flowed like water, with broken arms and legs flying everywhere, and even captured their commander alive to honor the fallen souls…”

Memories from so many years ago had become distorted in the Third Prince’s mind as he exaggerated wildly, frightening the noble ladies with wide eyes.

He had stayed by his elder brother’s side for many years, influenced by him, and hadn’t taken any concubines. His wife, Yanyan, secretly tugged at his sleeve, quietly reminding him: “Haven’t you mixed things up? This is actually about the Empress leading troops to encircle Wei forces at Changling.”

Over the years, the Little King of Hell had won too many battles, so it was no wonder the Third Prince was confused.

The husband and wife’s back-and-forth left those military officials’ wives who had intended to send their daughters into the palace pale with fear.

With military officials in their families, they could certainly piece together the truth.

Wasn’t the one who encircled Wei forces at Changling the terrifying Little King of Hell?

How could Prince Zhenxi claim it was Empress Yan who led the troops?

When His Majesty personally held an oil umbrella to shield the Empress, escorting her into the imperial carriage to return to the palace together, rumors about the new Empress being the elusive Jiangzhe bandit leader, the Little King of Hell, began to spread.

However, no matter how plausible these rumors might be, no one would be foolish enough to seek confirmation.

As Xiaoying had said before, recovering lost territories on behalf of Dafeng! The strategic plot within couldn’t be exposed.

Some who didn’t believe sought confirmation from the Sixth Prince.

Feng Qiruo involuntarily covered his forehead, as if someone were flicking it, and said irritably: “The matters between His Majesty and the Empress are not for someone like you to question. Get away from me, don’t bring me bad luck!”

After this tournament, no one dared presume to mention sending women into the palace again.

Previous poisonous empresses had merely schemed to harm others.

But the current Empress would openly draw her sword to kill people herself—a fierce woman who would even grab His Majesty’s face!

“What should I do? I’m too jealous, and the palace women’s kickball team doesn’t even have enough players!” Xiaoying said lazily, lying in Feng Yuan’s arms under the moonlight.

Feng Yuan handed her a peeled grape, taking the opportunity to kiss her: “Aren’t there enough women left by the late Emperor for you to torment? I see you’re getting along well with Empress Dowager Tang?”

Xiaoying stretched lazily: “I asked Tang Mi if she wanted to leave the palace. If she did, I would make arrangements. But she’s grown accustomed to palace life. Being a widow suits her—she’s healthy, not pressured by her maternal family, and doesn’t need to weigh advantages and disadvantages. Oh, that Huo Buchen still writes to her every year!”

Hearing this, Feng Yuan coldly raised an eyebrow: “If you think the Empress Dowager is lonely, when we conquer the Wei capital, I’ll capture that romantic king and give him to the Empress Dowager as a male consort!”

Xiaoying heard this with some dreamy fascination and couldn’t help asking: “Aren’t there two brothers? What about the other one?”

Feng Yuan couldn’t help pinching her waist, pulling her forcefully into his embrace: “Didn’t I save one for my Empress? Are you finding fault? It seems I haven’t served my Empress well enough! Haven’t satisfied my Empress!”

Xiaoying laughed as she tried to evade, but was still pulled into the layered curtains. Soon, the faint sound of chains rattling could be heard amidst the warmth and fragrance of spring!