With the sash covering her eyes, Yu Lingxi’s vision was a blur of white, all her senses infinitely heightened.

“What is it?”

Her red lips parted slightly as she reached out to touch Ning Yin’s cheek.

His face still held a trace of coldness, but his lips had warmed, and through the sash, he lightly pecked her moist eyelashes.

“Enough, enough. Where do you find all this energy?”

Yu Lingxi pressed down his wandering hand, speaking softly.

After much persuasion, she finally managed to push Ning Yin back onto the couch.

Before she could catch her breath, her waist was seized, and she was pulled into his firm embrace.

Then the sash over her eyes loosened, and light flooded in. Yu Lingxi opened her eyelashes with slight discomfort, her vision focusing on Ning Yin’s deep, captivating eyes just inches away.

Yu Lingxi was momentarily dazed, wondering if the sight Ning Yin had seen last year when the sash was removed in the hidden chamber beneath Golden Cloud Temple had been as dazzling as what she now beheld.

“Am I that handsome?”

Ning Yin curved his lips into a faint, satisfied smile, reaching out to press the corner of her eye.

After their exertions, much of the coldness had dissipated from his body.

“Yes, handsome.”

Yu Lingxi nodded honestly, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a smile. “Not enough to look at for two lifetimes.”

Ning Yin appeared nonchalant, but the faint red marks on his chest betrayed his current excitement.

“You’ve been busy all night. Get some sleep.”

Yu Lingxi touched the dark circles under his eyes with her fingertips, then retrieved the apricot-white sash from beside the pillow and gently placed it over Ning Yin’s eyes. “I’ll stay with you.”

Beneath the sash, his eyelashes fluttered, and he finally yielded, very slowly closing his eyes.

When his breathing grew deep and even, Yu Lingxi carefully adjusted her position, raising her gaze to his peaceful sleeping face.

The gentle sash concealed his intimidating, indifferent eyes, and with his straight nose and thin lips, he presented an image of quiet, harmless docility.

Yu Lingxi’s lips quirked upward.

“Rest well,” little madman.

…

Ning Yin did not sleep for long.

When Yu Lingxi awoke from her nap, he was already energetically giving orders to his subordinates, his commanding presence showing no signs of fatigue.

Surveillance messengers came and went. Yu Lingxi estimated the date and roughly guessed what had happened in the palace.

Sure enough, just after they had finished their evening meal, the mourning bells of the palace rang out, their sorrowful sound echoing throughout the imperial city.

The old emperor had passed away.

In an unspeakably awkward manner, he had died on the dragon bed in Changyang Palace.

It was a tumultuous night.

The emperor’s sudden death without naming an heir threw the court into chaos.

As people from the palace came one after another to report mourning affairs, not a hint of emotion showed on Ning Yin’s perfectly cold face.

“Even in death, he couldn’t pick a good day.”

Seemingly displeased with the emperor’s premature demise, Ning Yin’s light voice carried a trace of disgust. “He’s completely spoiled this prince’s wedding joy.”

The palace servants kneeling on the steps prostrated themselves even lower, none daring to question his treasonous words.

Returning to the bedchamber, Yu Lingxi had already removed the crimson clothing worn after the wedding and changed into plain white robes. Her hair was loosely fastened with the white jade hairpin flecked with red that Ning Yin had given her. Though bare-faced, she possessed a naturally beautiful charm.

Ning Yin sat behind the dressing table watching her, unable to resist reaching out to lightly hook his finger in the plain silk sash at her waist.

“White is too stark. Suisui suits vibrant adornments better.”

Ning Yin tugged slightly, pulling Yu Lingxi into his embrace.

She knew of Ning Yin’s hatred for the old emperor, the enemy he was determined to avenge even at the cost of being labeled a patricide and regicide.

Concubine Li had not treated Ning Yin well, but Yu Lingxi had never heard him express any hatred toward his birth mother, only cold indifference.

Because he knew that the man on the dragon throne was the source of all evil.

But with the emperor newly deceased, Yu Lingxi felt she should at least wear white for appearance’s sake.

Not out of foolish loyalty to the emperor, but to avoid causing trouble for Ning Yin with eccentric behavior. After all, with the emperor dead and no crown prince, it was a time of potential chaos.

“When will we enter the palace?” Yu Lingxi rested her forehead against Ning Yin’s shoulder, asking softly.

“Changyang Palace is too filthy. We’ll wait until he’s in his coffin.”

Ning Yin stroked her cool hair, speaking casually, “Last night the old emperor tried to establish a codicil, but unfortunately, I destroyed it… Heh, you really should have seen his expression then, so angry his eyeballs nearly bled.”

The Ning Yin of her previous life had been even more mad and extreme than the current one, so Yu Lingxi wasn’t particularly surprised.

The emperor had committed countless atrocities under the guise of being a virtuous ruler—he deserved his fate.

She gave a soft “mm” in response, then asked, “Without an imperial edict, what does my husband plan to do next?”

She rarely addressed him as “husband,” and when she occasionally did, the trailing sound was alluringly captivating, like a hook.

Ning Yin’s hand stroking her hair slowed.

After a moment, he pinched her delicate nape, signaling her to turn her face toward him.

“Would Suisui like to be emperor?”

He asked with a smile, his eyes both crazed and gentle. “If Suisui wishes it, I can make it happen.”

Such shocking words.

Yu Lingxi was frightened—she, a person with no great ambitions, was being entrusted with such weighty expectations by the little madman.

She even suspected that Ning Yin had misspoken, or was perhaps joking.

But quickly, she realized Ning Yin was not jesting.

She remembered before their wedding at the Yu residence after Ning Yin had written a love poem on the small of her back, he had impassively asked her, “Want to be emperor?”

At the time, Yu Lingxi thought something was off about the question, assuming he had meant, “Want me to be emperor?”

…Now it seemed Ning Yin hadn’t misspoken at all!

Preposterous, inconceivable.

But daring to commit such an outrageous act against the world was indeed something the little madman would do.

“Why so dumbfounded?”

Ning Yin grasped Yu Lingxi’s chin and gave it a gentle shake, smiling, “That blank stare makes this prince want to take a bite.”

And indeed, that’s exactly what he did.

As her cheek was gently caught between his teeth, his muffled laughter brushing against her ear, Yu Lingxi finally came to her senses.

“You’re truly going to frighten me to death.”

Yu Lingxi’s fair cheeks quickly showed the faintest of teeth marks, like pale peach blossoms against snow, beautiful even in her annoyance.

She cupped Ning Yin’s lean, distinguished face, gazing into the madness in his eyes, and said seriously, “I’ve never thought of being emperor, nor am I suited for it. Such things shouldn’t be said carelessly.”

Yu Lingxi was never born to wield power or enjoy having life and death in her hands. Her only wish was to grow old together with her loved one, surrounded by happy friends and family.

Moreover, placing a woman with no royal bloodline on the imperial throne would be nothing short of perverse, resulting either in a sea of blood and corpses engulfing the realm or in backlash against her and Ning Yin.

Ning Yin looked at her for a moment, then nodded, “Yu Huanchen or General Yu would also be acceptable.”

“Father and Brother don’t want it either!”

Yu Lingxi couldn’t help but rub Ning Yin’s cheeks, truly wondering what shocking things filled that head of his.

Ning Yin’s skin was taut and his cheeks somewhat thin, leaving Yu Lingxi unsatisfied with her rubbing. She reluctantly said, “My family has no ambition to usurp power. My husband should seriously consider who to put on the throne after the mourning period.”

Despite her words, Yu Lingxi had a pretty good idea.

If Ning Yin were to follow the same path as in her previous life, he would certainly place the young prince on the throne.

A child who couldn’t yet speak, who couldn’t even sit steadily on the dragon throne, would be easiest to control. However, this would not eliminate the open and hidden attacks from her previous life, and the position of regent would not be comfortable.

As the young prince grew older and court officials changed, no one could predict the situation ten years hence.

Unless they selected a worthy adult prince from the imperial clan, allowing Ning Yin to accomplish what he wished before peacefully spending the rest of his life with her.

Or perhaps…

Yu Lingxi raised her eyes, scrutinizing Ning Yin’s face.

Ning Yin openly allowed her to look, turning his head to bite her fingertip, “What do you want to say?”

Yu Lingxi swallowed, tentatively voicing the question that had long puzzled her: “Ning Yin, have you never thought about becoming emperor yourself?”

Her voice was soft, her eyes clear and gentle, without a trace of shadow.

Unlike his advisors and attendants, and even unlike Yu Yuan who had asked the same question, Ning Yin knew that more and more people under his command followed him devotedly, not out of loyalty, but out of fear and self-interest.

Many hoped he would take the throne so they could rise with him, but he deliberately disappointed them.

“Suisui, I’m different from you all.”

Ning Yin calmly gazed back at her, a faint curve to his lips. “I’m not an emotional person. Today there’s famine here, tomorrow people die there—none of it stirs the slightest compassion in my heart. Are you sure you want someone like me…”

He paused, lazily finding an appropriate term: “…a monster, to be emperor?”

“You are my husband, not a monster.”

Yu Lingxi’s expression became more solemn, though her voice remained as gentle as ever. “You simply cannot love all under heaven as you love me.”

Ning Yin’s eyes flickered.

Strange, that such a hard heart would inadvertently soften when faced with her comfort.

“Indeed, what little clean conscience I have, the size of a fingernail, I’ve given entirely to Suisui.”

Laughter welled in his dark eyes. “With my nature that fears the world isn’t chaotic enough, I’m more comfortable being the villain. I truly lack the patience to safeguard any country or kingdom.”

From beginning to end, he only wanted to protect one person.

If Suisui disdained the throne, then whether it was Yu Huanchen or the young prince, anyone could be the puppet emperor.

As long as they didn’t stand in his way.

“Your Highness.”

The shadow of a guard appeared at the door, reporting, “Everything you ordered has been prepared.”

Only then did Ning Yin release Yu Lingxi, saying leisurely, “I can’t accompany Suisui to sleep tonight. What a pity.”

“What’s there to pity? What you missed at night, you’ve already taken in advance during the day.”

Yu Lingxi muttered softly, then suddenly realized, “You didn’t anticipate this earlier, did you? That’s why you refused to sleep during the day and instead…”

Ning Yin suddenly laughed, his eyes full of mischief.

“Be good.”

He brushed her beautiful eyelashes with his knuckle and said softly, “If you can’t sleep, shake the bells a bit yourself.”

The clappers of the golden bells had been installed; if one was shaken within thirty zhang, the other would vibrate in resonance.

Yu Lingxi was about to bid him a tender farewell when the words caught in her throat. She gave him an exasperated glance and ran off to the sound of his deep, pleased laughter.

By the time Yu Lingxi returned from her bath, Ning Yin had indeed left.

The vast bedchamber suddenly seemed empty.

Yu Lingxi sat at the dressing table, carefully recalling whether any major events had occurred when the emperor died in her previous life.

However, at that time she had been confined to the rear courtyard of the Zhao residence, cut off from news. Even if there had been a struggle over the heir apparent, it wouldn’t have reached her ears.

After Ning Yin became regent, apart from the persistent accusations of “fratricide and patricide,” other details were buried in time, shrouded in secrecy.

In any case, the matter of the new emperor’s ascension would have to wait until after the former emperor’s funeral, so there was still time.

Thinking thus, Yu Lingxi felt somewhat relieved.

Lost in thought, her gaze inexplicably fell on the small cabinet beside the couch.

After hesitating for a moment, she finally couldn’t resist her curiosity and walked over to quietly pull open the top drawer.

The red cord had been undone, leaving only one golden bell lying lonely in the brocade box, the other having disappeared without a trace.

Who had taken it?

“Little madman,” Yu Lingxi rested her chin in her hand as she picked up the bell and shook it.

A muted, tingling vibration came through, and her eyes curved with amusement. She loosened the length of the red cord, then hung the bell around her neck, hiding it inside her collar.

This thing wasn’t exactly proper, so she couldn’t let others see it.

The next day, they needed to enter the palace for the vigil.

Just as dawn began to break, palace maids entered one after another to help Yu Lingxi wash and dress.

Since elaborate adornments were forbidden during the mourning period, the tedious steps of drawing eyebrows and applying powder were spared. She merely inserted the white jade hairpin Ning Yin had given her at an angle in her simple hair bun, and was ready in less than half an hour.

Seated in the palanquin bound for the palace, Yu Lingxi touched the golden bell hidden in her white collar.

According to protocol, princes, imperial grandsons, and dukes would keep vigil inside the Fengxian Hall, while their consorts would kneel outside the Fengxian Gate with the imperial concubines.

Yu Lingxi calculated that from the Fengxian Gate to where Ning Yin would be was about ten zhang away. As long as Ning Yin moved, she would certainly sense it.

The palanquin stopped at the palace gate and could proceed no further. All attendants from the prince’s mansion and palace maids would remain outside the palace gates.

Coming to receive Yu Lingxi was an unfamiliar young eunuch and a somewhat familiar palace maid.

Yu Lingxi remembered that this round-faced young palace maid had served at Prince Jing’s mansion, among those who had tidied her clothes after the bathing pool.

“Princess Consort, this humble servant will guide you to the Fengxian Gate,” the young eunuch said respectfully.

Yu Lingxi nodded, “Thank you for your trouble.”

She followed behind the two, walking for about the time it took to drink a cup of tea, gradually sensing something wasn’t right.

Her memory was excellent, and she had toured the palace just two days before, so the layout of the palace halls was fairly clear to her.

Seeing Yu Lingxi stop, the young palace maid grew nervous and asked in a small voice, “My lady, what’s wrong?”

Yu Lingxi looked at the end of the palace pathway, her expression serene.

This was not the direction to the Fengxian Gate.