Before the Mao hour (5-7 AM), Emperor Yongxing rose and dressed with the assistance of his eunuchs. The sky was still dark, but lanterns illuminated the imperial bedchamber.

Zhao Xuanzhen, who had served behind Emperor Yongxing since his Crown Prince days, had now risen with his master to become the Chief Eunuch.

“Lin’an didn’t return to the palace last night?”

Emperor Yongxing spread his arms, becoming a human clothes rack to facilitate the eunuchs dressing him in imperial robes.

“This servant had people watching at the palace gates, ready to report the moment Princess Lin’an returned. With no news yet, she must still be at the Bureau of Astronomy.”

Seeing Emperor Yongxing’s slight frown, Zhao Xuanzhen quickly added: “Princess Huaiqing hasn’t returned either.”

Emperor Yongxing’s brow immediately smoothed, and he nodded slowly: “It seems they stayed at the Bureau. Mm, the night wind was bitterly cold—the princesses have delicate constitutions and shouldn’t travel back and forth, lest they catch cold.”

Having served together for over a decade, Zhao Xuanzhen had easily read His Majesty’s concern, which was why he’d added that “Princess Huaiqing hadn’t returned” to ease the emperor’s mind…

Sure enough, hearing that Huaiqing hadn’t returned either, His Majesty relaxed, no longer worried about Lin’an being “bullied.”

Zhao Xuanzhen, who was about the same age as Emperor Yongxing, hesitated before saying: “This servant knows Your Majesty pities the common people who lack coal in severe winter, but please don’t forget to warm the hearts of the imperial consorts as well.”

Emperor Yongxing cast a sidelong glance at his Chief Eunuch and sneered: “You dog, how much silver did you collect from the consorts?”

Zhao Xuanzhen answered truthfully: “Five hundred taels, all stored in the inner treasury.”

Actually, Emperor Yongxing wasn’t completely inactive. Knowing the imperial treasury was empty and lacking funds for disaster relief, he had privately devised many money-raising schemes.

One of these involved using palace eunuchs to solicit bribes from officials.

Unfortunately, as an emperor-in-training of only one month, his money-gathering techniques were quite crude compared to his predecessor’s forty years of experience.

Emperor Yongxing nodded with satisfaction before responding to Zhao Xuanzhen’s words: “Since ascending the throne, I frequently handle state affairs until late at night, falling asleep at my desk, truly laboring hard.”

Zhao Xuanzhen understood—His Majesty wouldn’t be visiting the imperial consorts for quite some time, both recently and shortly.

Emperor Yongxing suddenly sighed: “If this matter fails, the Prime Minister and his son-in-law will have to bear the blame.”

He planned to propose the donation campaign at today’s court session. Of course, neither the emperor nor Prime Minister Wang would take the lead—instead, Hanlin Academy Scholar Xu Xinnian would present it.

In return, he had promised Prime Minister Wang to promote Xu Xinnian.

As the Mao hour arrived, accompanied by drum beats, the civil and military officials orderly passed through the Meridian Gate, crossed the Golden Water Bridge, and attended court.

During this first month of the new emperor’s reign, the Beijing officials’ most direct impression was:

When would these court sessions end?

Court sessions were held at the Mao hour (5 AM). Officials living within the Imperial City only needed to leave their residences half an hour early.

But some officials living in the Inner City, far from the palace, had to rise at the start of the Yin hour (3 AM). In this bitter winter with cutting winds, it was truly painful.

The frequency of court sessions mainly depended on the emperor’s attitude. Like Emperor Yuanjing, an immortality cultivation enthusiast, who might not hold court for ten to fifteen days.

Back then, the self-proclaimed patriotic officials privately jumped in rage, cursing Emperor Yuanjing for neglecting his duties, clamoring “Return our court sessions!”

Now with the new emperor, there had been daily morning courts for a month straight.

Every time the officials painfully crawled from their beds to face the cold wind, they would reminisce about the late emperor.

Xu Qi’an’s biological clock also aligned with the Mao hour. Upon waking, his first action was to close his eyes and sense the energy changes in his dantian.

“The energy boost from dual cultivation is gradually weakening, trending toward a more constant level. Well, this makes sense—if the effect remained so dramatic, two years of dual cultivation with the National Preceptor would have led to instant ascension…”

Just five days of dual cultivation with Luo Yuheng had directly advanced him from early Third Grade to mid-third Grade.

This was a journey that would typically take ordinary Third Grade martial artists years, even decades.

This demonstrated how crucial the quality of a dual cultivation partner was. Luo Yuheng was not only from the Dao School but also a Second Grade Tribulation stage cultivator.

Perhaps no other woman in the world could match her ability to simultaneously pleasure him while dramatically advancing his cultivation.

Except for that cheat, the Flower God’s reincarnation.

Xu Qi’an yawned, sitting up on the collapsed couch, and looking around the meditation room. The furnishings were simple—sleeping wasn’t part of Luo Yuheng’s normal routine.

So they had used the meditation couch she usually sat on.

Now it was destroyed.

Luo Yuheng lay curled up, her jade body covered by a large robe.

After each dual cultivation session, she needed sleep to calm her karmic fire and transition personalities.

The robe was Xu Qi’an’s—last night she hadn’t wanted to soil her Dao robe, so she’d used his as a blanket.

It didn’t cover her completely, reaching only to the top of her thighs, leaving her long, fair legs exposed.

Luo Yuheng had a pair of irresistible long legs. As Great Fan’s connoisseur of female beauty, Xu Qi’an could best appreciate a woman’s wonderfulness.

The National Preceptor’s legs weren’t comparable to those stick-thin legs of young girls outside. They combined a maiden’s slenderness with the roundness unique to mature women while maintaining taut elasticity.

Ten years wouldn’t be enough to tire of them!

Xu Qi’an held Luo Yuheng, silently counting time. At one point, her thick eyelashes trembled, then her eyes opened.

Their gazes met, and she smiled enchantingly.

Whew, looks like it’s the “Joy” personality… Xu Qi’an felt relieved.

If the “Evil” personality had awakened, Xu Qi’an would have been prepared to keep her bedridden for twenty-four hours.

Only this way could he prevent the National Preceptor from doing unconscionable things, like eating the lovely fish in his pond.

Luo Yuheng lay flat, stretching her arms and waist.

Her fair body emerged from the robe. Xu Qi’an looked down and saw a half of her perky, round bottom.

“I haven’t felt this relaxed in many years.”

Luo Yuheng sighed contentedly, smiling sweetly: “Dear Xu, having you are wonderful.”

Yes, wonderful, you’ve socially died even more deeply, how wonderful… Xu Qi’an maintained a blank expression while internally wearing a crying face and frantically snarking.

They rustled into their scattered clothes and leisurely ate breakfast, not conversing much but maintaining a harmonious atmosphere and tacit understanding, like companions who had spent many years together.

After breakfast, seeing Luo Yuheng make no mention of last night’s events as if forgotten, Xu Qi’an felt somewhat relieved.

Just as he was planning to visit home, he suddenly felt pain and swelling in his nape.

The Seven Deadly Poison was about to transform… His heart leaped with joy.

“National Preceptor, I need a quiet room where I won’t be disturbed.”

Luo Yuheng nodded with a slight smile: “Just return to the room—no one will disturb you.”

The room she meant was where they had practiced dual cultivation.

This quiet courtyard rarely received visitors; even disciples of the temple wouldn’t come without urgent business.

It had been better during Emperor Yuanjing’s time—after his death, it had grown even quieter.

After Xu Qi’an entered the room, Luo Yuheng thoughtfully raised her palm to establish a barrier.

Xu Qi’an sat cross-legged on the meditation mat, closing his eyes and adjusting his body to its optimal state to handle the Seven Deadly Poison’s transformation.

Since its creation, the Seven Deadly Poison had remained dormant in its larval stage.

Over the past month, living as one with his body and nourished by his blood essence, after compensating for the LSP deficiency, it had grown.

“The Seven Deadly Poison’s next stage should give me abilities not inferior to Fourth Grade.”

Xu Qi’an felt expectant.

Even in its larval stage, the Seven Deadly Poison had let him stand undefeated before Fourth Grade experts—though he couldn’t win, he could certainly protect himself.

Now that it was initially maturing, it should raise his overall combat power to Fourth Grade.

This way, it would complement his martial arts system.

“Wonder if the seven poison insects’ abilities will change…”

As he anticipated this, he monitored the changes in his nape.

Time flew quickly. After a quarter hour, he felt the flesh of his nape being pushed up, forming a swollen lump.

Beneath the flesh invisible to the eye, the Seven Deadly Poison began growing, its form becoming more elongated, its joints more robust, further embedding itself into Xu Qi’an’s flesh and spine.

This relationship, like that between host and parasite, formed a life community between person and poison.

Xu Qi’an’s powerful divine soul “witnessed” this scene.

“Not too painful, far less than when it first parasitized me. I haven’t received the evolution feedback yet…”

The moment this thought emerged, Xu Qi’an’s divine soul was pierced by a sudden force.

This power came from the Seven Deadly Poison.

Abruptly, he felt as if his divine soul had been torn into countless fragments.

His consciousness floated in a boundless void, unable to find a landing point, unable to return to reality, unable to sense his physical body’s existence.

This process continued for an unknown duration until he contacted some fragments of broken memory.

Memories that didn’t belong to him.