Today, the newly qualified imperial scholars took office and entered the court, filling vacant positions. The court was unprecedentedly lively.

“Now that worthy talents have entered the palace, we cannot be without a wise ruler. We ministers respectfully request His Highness the Prince of Jing to ascend the throne and extend the nation’s destiny!”

Several perceptive officials jointly petitioned, repeatedly imploring Ning Yin to ascend the throne. Most were merely flattering words, after all, in the past, Ning Yin had ignored them as if they didn’t exist.

But today, the Prince of Jing, sitting on the only bloodwood cross chair in the Hall of Golden Bells, casually swept his gaze over the densely kneeling new and old ministers, and unexpectedly opened his golden mouth.

This time he was neither confiscating someone’s property nor dismissing someone from office, but coolly said: “Why are you all still kneeling? Am I supposed to arrange the ascension and coronation ceremony myself?”

The hall instantly fell silent.

No one had expected Ning Yin to agree so readily. On the shining floor tiles reflected the varied expressions of the high officials.

Especially those who secretly supported the young emperor, hoping to control the court situation, their faces were particularly panicked and complex.

“Your Highness takes on this dangerous responsibility, which is the blessing of our dynasty!”

Several officials from the Censorate were the first to stand out, controlling the court’s direction.

The Minister of Rites also followed up: “I will arrange the ceremony for worshipping Heaven and ascending the throne immediately!”

Grand General Yu Yuan and his son Yu Huanchen exchanged a glance, a brief moment of surging thoughts that settled into calm.

As if making a major decision, father and son stepped forward and knelt again, proclaiming loudly: “We are willing to follow Your Highness in supporting the country!”

The declaration echoed in the hall, startling.

Ning Yin said methodically: “It’s rare to have someone as intelligent as General Yu.”

With this final verdict, many observant ministers in the court knelt in succession, united in their voices: “Your Majesty is wise! The Empress is brilliant!”

The young official who came to greet Yu Lingxi wore a pine-green official robe, with a fair face and bright eyes, naturally carrying an air of integrity.

He bowed to Yu Lingxi and said: “The documents have been verified correctly, please wait a moment, Your Highness.”

His words were sparse, his demeanor reserved and solemn.

Yu Lingxi recognized this stern yet handsome face and smiled slightly: “It’s you, Zhou Yunqing.”

Zhou Yunqing’s face showed a trace of surprise as he nodded: “Your Highness still remembers me.”

“Of course, I remember.”

Yu Lingxi’s memory was always good; she had an impression of his appearance since the Double Seventh Festival last year. “In the future, Lord Zhou will become the most outstanding Junior Minister in the Court of Judicial Review.”

Zhou Yunqing was young; even with the Prince of Jing’s favor, upon first entering the court, he had only been given the sixth-rank position of a department clerk, far from the position of Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review…

However, who was Yu Lingxi? She was the person the Prince of Jing cherished in his heart. The remnants of the Third Prince’s faction who had once abducted her were still suffering worse-than-death torture in the deepest levels of the Court of Judicial Review’s prison.

Her words of praise were more effective than an imperial edict.

Having received the compliment, Zhou Yunqing showed no sign of self-satisfaction, saying neither humbly nor arrogantly: “Your Highness flatters me.”

“By the way, although the County Lady of Qingping may not care about minor details and may act a bit bluntly, she is extremely loyal and righteous, truly a rare good girl.”

Yu Lingxi was discreet, saying, “If Lord Zhou doesn’t mind her difficult situation, please remember her kindness in supporting you and treat her generously.”

At the mention of Tang Buli, Zhou Yunqing’s bland, cool expression finally gained some respect: “I understand.”

Just as the words fell, two officials personally escorted a figure in plain white into the hall.

Yu Lingxi raised her head from her seat and saw Xue Cen standing behind the two officials.

After being confined in the Court of Judicial Review for nearly a month, he appeared thinner, his brilliant grace faded into pale melancholy, like a pearl covered in dust.

But his eyes were still gentle and clean. Looking at the incomparably beautiful woman with a magnificent hairstyle for a long while, his dry lips parted several times before he gathered his robe, bowed, and said: “This criminal greets… the Prince Consort.”

The form of address took a turn at his lips, sounding particularly dry.

“Second Young Master Xue, please rise.”

Yu Lingxi raised her arm, gesturing for him to stand.

Xue Cen turned his head and coughed lightly, his cheeks showing a faint redness—the remnant poison of the Hundred Flowers Killer acting up in his body.

Yu Lingxi turned her head and ordered an attendant to present a package that had been prepared in advance.

Seeing the precious items packed into the package, Xue Cen was stunned, then shook his head: “A dying man dares not accept Your Highness’s favor.”

His eyes never dared to look in Yu Lingxi’s direction.

Though she was so gentle and radiant that just a glimpse from afar would force tears to his eyes.

“I have also received your favor.”

Yu Lingxi rose and opened the items in the package one by one to show him. “These are detoxification pills I had people refine, enough for a full year’s supply, which can temporarily suppress the toxin in your body. Here are transit passes and a letter of recommendation I wrote personally. Go north from the capital to Yan City, and according to the address in the letter, find the medicine master, he will help you…”

Hearing this, Xue Cen finally understood Yu Lingxi’s intention.

“Is Your Highness… letting me go?”

Xue Cen’s chest heaved as he said with difficulty, “My sins are deep; only death can atone. How can Your Highness…”

“It is my husband’s wish,” Yu Lingxi deliberately invoked Ning Yin.

Xue Cen froze, a bitter taste lingering in his heart.

“Moreover, those with deep sins have already received their due punishment. Second Young Master Xue, if you passively seek death, dying as lightly as a feather, that would truly be despicable.”

Yu Lingxi smiled faintly, saying gently, “Consider it a general amnesty before the ascension ceremony. Go. Everyone must live for themselves once. The mountains are high and the seas vast—roam as you please.”

Everyone must live for themselves once.

The gentle words carried an earth-shattering power.

Xue Cen recalled his short twenty-one years of life, living under the protection of his elders, always passively swept along by his family. When the family revealed the filth beneath its splendid exterior, his beliefs collapsed, and he seemed to lose all direction for living.

Drinking poison was both to atone for his sins to the Yu family and to save the precarious Xue family.

He had never thought about solving problems while alive; he used righteous actions to mask his inner cowardice of escaping through death—how ridiculous!

As the mental barriers in his heart dispersed, Xue Cen’s eyes grew moist with tears.

He had not yet had the chance to collect Xue Song’s remains, nor had he seen his grandfather who had been dismissed and fallen gravely ill. There were still so many things he could do…

Xue Cen raised his eyes, looking at her as gently as he had in his youth, slowly gathering his sleeves and bowing deeply: “Xue Cen thanks, Your Highness!”

“Then, farewell.”

Yu Lingxi nodded, passing by him as she left the great hall, walking into the vast slanting sunlight, her figure tall and graceful, gilded with gold dust, vaguely swaying with dazzling majesty.

Outside the Court of Judicial Review, a carriage waited at the steps.

The curtain was half-open, and inside, a handsome young man in a deep purple imperial robe was leaning casually, propping his head as he watched her.

Yu Lingxi’s eyes brightened. She released her handmaid Hutao’s supporting hand and, smiling, lifted her skirt to board the carriage: “Why did you come?”

“To pick someone up,” Ning Yin moved his fingers, pointing to the spot beside him.

So Yu Lingxi sat next to him, her knee intentionally brushing against his leg through their clothes, smiling flawlessly: “My husband is so busy with court affairs, yet still makes time to pick me up, how considerate.”

Before the words were finished, she was already in Ning Yin’s arms.

“Suisui went to see someone I dislike.” His eyes deep, he leaned down to peck her eyelashes.

“You smell of someone I dislike.” He moved lower, biting her exquisitely indented collarbone.

Yu Lingxi found Ning Yin particularly interesting.

When acting mad, he was extremely harsh with his own body, cutting his hair, tattooing, and even slicing his palm to bleed, without blinking an eye. Yet when jealous of her, no matter how harsh his words, he only dared punish her with his mouth.

Because she understood his unusual way of showing love, Yu Lingxi felt especially sorry for him.

“Some matters began because of me, so naturally they should end with me.”

Yu Lingxi shuddered from the tickling sensation, stopping Ning Yin from going lower. “Besides, didn’t you agree to release Xue Cen last night?”

Ning Yin raised his eyes: “When did I say that last night?”

“…”

Yu Lingxi’s mind was filled with the urgent sound of golden bells and the fresh red tattoo on Ning Yin’s chest, her cheeks heating up as she gave him a soft, annoyed look.

Ning Yin laughed with pleasure, making her look at him, just like last night.

“Why don’t Suisui help me recall?” The carriage swayed, but his deep, pleasing voice remained steady. “Tonight, do you want to shake bells or use a seal?”

Yu Lingxi didn’t want to respond to him.

As night fell, the lamps in the imperial bedchamber cast beautiful shadows. On the couch, a beauty with black hair reaching her waist reclined.

It was the same appearance and posture as on the beauty seal, only that she was warm jade and perfume, white as snow.

“Isn’t a jade seal more interesting than a real person?”

Yu Lingxi yawned, enduring the late spring coolness, looking at Ning Yin who approached with a cold watery aura. “Do I look like it?”

Ning Yin paused before the couch.

Because he was accustomed to controlling everything, accustomed to Yu Lingxi’s gentle indulgence, he had forgotten that initially, she was the one most skilled at teasing.

The corners of Ning Yin’s mouth lifted as he leaned in to appreciate.

But Yu Lingxi held him back: “This seal, naturally, is for me to stamp on you.”

She deliberately emphasized the word “on,” with the ambition to tame the dragon.

Ning Yin narrowed his eyes, the pressure gradually encroaching. Yu Lingxi bit her lip, boldly trying to stamp her seal, but lacking experience in such insubordination, she stamped awkwardly.

After a while, Ning Yin let out a low, hoarse laugh, saying methodically: “How about I kneel to you?”

Without allowing refusal, the view suddenly flipped. The Prince of Jing, who neither respected ghosts nor bowed to emperors, knelt to her for half the night.

…

In early April, the ascension ceremony was held as scheduled.

Under the high sky and light clouds, imperial flags fluttered. Officials and palace people stood solemnly, respectfully awaiting the ceremony to worship Heaven, Earth, and the state.

Yu Lingxi’s black hair was piled high, adorned with a phoenix crown and flower hairpins, wearing exquisite and grand makeup, with a gold-woven phoenix robe trailing majestically. Before her, Ning Yin in a black imperial robe stood tall and handsome, his indifferent profile exuding awe-inspiring majesty.

According to the ritual, the empress should be one step behind the emperor.

However, before climbing the long white jade steps, Ning Yin stopped and, in front of all officials and guards, took Yu Lingxi’s hand, ascending the stone steps alongside her.

Yu Lingxi tensed, then smiled brightly, tightly gripping his strong, slender fingers.

Stepping onto the last stone step, they turned to gaze out. The vast world, mountains, rivers, and palaces lay before their eyes.

Magnificent horns sounded, and all officials prostrated, hailing “Long live Your Majesty, long live the Empress.”

The shouts echoed through the palace, deafening. Yu Lingxi glanced at Ning Yin beside her; his eyes were brighter than ever before.

The sinister madman of her previous life finally stood in the sunlight, at the peak, righteously accepting the officials’ kowtows.

After the lengthy sacrifice, they entered the Hall of Golden Bells to receive the court officials’ homage.

The majestic hall’s pillars were crimson, with golden dragons coiling upward. The throne at the front had been replaced with a new one because Ning Yin found the old one dirty.

The ministers the old emperor had used, the objects he had used, Ning Yin found them all dirty.

Yu Lingxi sat in the position beside the dragon throne. The officials entered the hall in an orderly fashion, bowing and prostrating. From such a close distance, Yu Lingxi could see her father in the front row, his gaze toward her loving and strong.

On the day of a new emperor’s ascension, an edict would usually be issued to win the people’s hearts, such as a general amnesty or a three-year tax reduction.

Even the Minister of Finance suggested: “Now the Yan people repeatedly violate our borders, causing panic among the people and soaring grain prices. If Your Majesty could reduce taxes, benefiting all, it would be a blessing for the world!”

Some nodded in agreement, all waiting for the seemingly leisurely but intensely cold and pressuring young new emperor to speak the final word.

“The Yan people come south to kill and plunder, and instead of thinking how to take back what’s ours, you ask me to reduce taxes.”

Ning Yin laughed, “Treating symptoms but not the cause, whitewashing peace—you all play this game quite well.”

With these words, the Minister of Finance anxiously knelt: “This old minister is dull-witted, I beg Your Majesty’s guidance!”

Ning Yin tapped the armrest of the dragon throne, raising his eyes to say: “Kill them back.”

These words shocked the entire court.

The new emperor’s first act was to expel foreign threats—this was unprecedented since the dynasty’s founding! One misstep and he would be labeled as “militarily aggressive, fond of war and killing.”

This… was truly an unorthodox decision.

Only Yu Lingxi knew that Ning Yin intended to establish his authority with the blood of the Yan people.

Reducing taxes would only make the common people’s lives slightly better for three years, while three years of avoiding war would be enough to fatten the newly rising Yan people, making them more difficult to deal with. If this war was won, it would intimidate all under heaven, boosting morale—a once-and-for-all solution.

The war had to be fought, but not in the same way as in her previous life.

“Today the Yan people plunder grain and fodder, tomorrow they will attack cities and kill our people. Step by step they devour, never satisfied.”

Yu Lingxi sat upright on the phoenix throne, each word clear and resonant, “If they want war, then war it shall be. Our Wei Dynasty has no cowards!”

Ning Yin glanced over, his eyes filled with unrestrained delight as he looked at her.

She said she wanted to stand beside him, not behind him.

So, it wasn’t just talk after all.

In the hall, Grand General Yu Yuan voluntarily stepped forward, his voice rich: “I request permission to lead the battle for our people!”

Immediately after, Yu Huanchen stepped forward: “I request to accompany my father to battle, to drive away the Yan people!”

Their voices echoed in the hall, startling.

Ning Yin said methodically: “It’s rare to have someone as intelligent as General Yu.”

With this final word, many previously hesitant ministers in the court knelt in succession, united in their voices: “Your Majesty is wise! The Empress is brilliant!”

The days that followed were busy and fulfilling.

When Yu Lingxi was the Prince of Jing’s consort, her days consisted only of walking, reading, resting, and brewing tea—days so leisurely they bordered on boredom.

Now, having just become empress, there were many things to learn slowly, keeping her so busy she hardly had time to rest. Forget brewing tea—even sitting down to properly enjoy a cup of tea was a luxury.

But Yu Lingxi had no regrets. Every word she spoke, every decision she made, had profound significance.

Because of the need to dispatch troops for battle, military expenses were enormous. Yu Lingxi took charge of reducing the palace staff by half and dismissing the former emperor’s concubines who had not borne children, cutting costs to share Ning Yin’s burden.

Just as she was instructing a palace lady to handle this matter, someone entered the hall.

When not attending court, Ning Yin rarely wore dragon robes, instead wearing a crimson casual attire as he strolled in with his hands behind his back, his face appearing cold and white, deeply handsome.

“You’re here, have you finished reviewing all the memorials?”

Yu Lingxi personally poured tea for him, breaking into a radiant smile.

Ning Yin clicked his tongue, lifting his robe as he sat down: “Suisui doesn’t care about me, only about memorials?”

Yu Lingxi used a register to hide her face, exposing only her almond eyes: “How could that be?”

Ning Yin’s madness was real, and so was his intelligence. Piles of memorials were as easy as clay in his hands; even the most difficult problems could be solved after half a night’s deliberation.

Although he often threw memorials aside halfway through, planning to confiscate the entire clan of a disobedient minister, or had “drag him down and behead him” on the tip of his tongue, frightening those around him.

But undeniably, Yu Lingxi admired his methods to the point of near jealousy.

She considered herself not stupid, but before Ning Yin, she still lacked some experience.

If she had half his decisiveness, she wouldn’t have spent nearly ten days just reducing the palace staff.

Seeing Ning Yin looking at her, Yu Lingxi hurriedly reported on her current work: “Regarding the expedition against the Northern Yan, with Father and Brother there, you need not worry.”

In her previous life, Ning Yin had no outstanding military generals capable of commanding armies, so a war dragged on for two years, exhausting human and financial resources, and drawing countless criticisms.

In this life, with her father and brother present, and traitors already removed from court, they would surely not follow the same path as in her previous life.

Ning Yin seemed unconcerned about this matter, still looking at her.

Yu Lingxi continued: “I have reduced the palace staff by half, saving at least 70,000 taels of expenses annually. Some elderly imperial concubines without children refused to leave the palace and caused a small disturbance, but it has been settled.”

Seeing Ning Yin still watching her, Yu Lingxi became somewhat nervous, reflecting for a moment before tugging at his sleeve: “What’s wrong, Ning Yin?”

Perhaps some minister had made a mistake in word or deed, offending him?

As she was thinking, a shadow fell before her eyes.

Ning Yin reached out to touch the faint fatigue beneath her eyes, then took the register from her hand and tossed it aside.

With a light thud, the palace maids standing in the hall were startled.

Yu Lingxi blinked: “What…”

Before she could finish speaking, Ning Yin grasped her wrist, pulling her out of the great hall.

Outside, the sunlight was perfect, the clouds light, the breeze gentle.

The air was filled with the fragrance of late spring flowers, no longer piercingly cold, yet not oppressively hot. Yu Lingxi was pulled by Ning Yin along the long palace path, her light gold skirt fluttering, until the imperial garden’s sea of crabapple blossoms appeared before them. Only then did she understand that Ning Yin had deliberately brought her out for a stroll.

Yu Lingxi didn’t particularly like crabapple blossoms; in her previous life, the Zhao residence had planted large patches of them.

“Don’t you like them?”

Ning Yin noticed her momentary hesitation, then seemingly understood, “Cut them down.”

The attendants moved quickly, truly beginning to fall trees and dig up flowers.

Seeing the crabapple blossoms about to meet a cruel fate, Yu Lingxi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “Stop! Cutting them down and replanting would cost thousands of taels of silver.”

The silver she had worked so hard to save!

Fearing Ning Yin would level the crabapple garden, Yu Lingxi had to pull him to continue forward.

Ahead was a patch of camellias, layer upon layer of large blossoms, blooming beautifully.

Walking along the flower garden for about half an hour, a dilapidated, cold palace gradually came into view, surrounded by high walls, completely sealed off.

Beside her, Ning Yin’s gaze paused, his steps slowing.

Yu Lingxi didn’t notice, raising her hand to shield her brow: “What palace is that ahead? Why is it so desolate?”

“The Morning Dew Palace,” Ning Yin said.

“What?” Yu Lingxi felt the name somewhat familiar.

“The Morning Dew Palace.”

Ning Yin faintly repeated, “It has another name, called the Cold Palace.”

Yu Lingxi remembered: this was where the former emperor had imprisoned Ning Yin’s mother.

Ning Yin had spent twelve years of purgatory-like life here, yet escaping from one purgatory, he fell into another.

Yu Lingxi couldn’t read what was in the depths of Ning Yin’s eyes, but she felt a dense pain.

“Let’s take another path.”

She considerately held Ning Yin’s fingers, smiling gently at him.

Light returned to Ning Yin’s eyes, his smile filled with interest: “Would you like to go in and take a look?”

Yu Lingxi shook her head: “No.”

“You’re lying,” Ning Yin pinched her little finger.

Indeed, Yu Lingxi wanted to. She wanted to understand everything about Ning Yin.

But she knew these were painful memories he’d rather not revisit, and she didn’t want him to be hurt.

She could come back secretly to see it alone, privately feel sorry for him for a while, and then return to embrace him tightly.

But Yu Lingxi underestimated Ning Yin’s near self-destructive ruthlessness.

When he made up his mind to lower his defenses, he was willing to tear open the wounds in his heart, bloody and raw, and present them to her.

“This is the small room where that woman imprisoned me.”

Ning Yin pointed to a side hall’s earroom. “Whenever I disobeyed, I would be locked in here for a night.”

Of course, if the old beast came to spend the night with her, he would also be locked in here, desperately covering his ears to block out the intermittent, shameful cries from outside.

“Once that woman fell ill after being tormented, forgetting I was still in the dark room. I stayed in there for two days and one night before being discovered.”

Ning Yin, in a matter-of-fact tone, spoke words that sent chills down one’s spine. He pushed the door, and the decayed wooden board fell with a crash, raising a cloud of dust.

He raised his sleeve to cover Yu Lingxi’s nose and mouth, holding her in his arms as he looked into the cramped dark room, remarking with surprise, “It’s so small? When I stayed here as a child, it always felt dark and spacious.”

“A child’s body is small, so the room would seem spacious.”

As Yu Lingxi spoke, she could imagine how young Ning Yin had curled up in the dark corner, shrinking into a small, trembling ball.

Her breath caught, and she pulled Ning Yin outside.

But the memories in the courtyard were no better either.

“At seven, I fell from this tree trying to pick up a discarded kite.”

He looked at the withered, crooked locust tree in the courtyard, narrowing his eyes: “How foolish.”

Walking further, they came to stone steps covered in dust and fallen leaves.

“Here is where that woman made me kneel.”

Ning Yin pointed to a tile embedded with sharp gravel in front of the steps, smilingly introducing it to her: “Roll up your trouser legs and kneel for half an hour, and your knees will swell red. Kneel for an hour, and the skin would break open. Kneel for a day, and you’d lose consciousness.”

“Stop, Ning Yin.”

Yu Lingxi could bear to hear no more, suppressing her emotions.

But the memories, like slow dismemberment, inflicted more pain on Ning Yin than on her.

Ning Yin wiped away the moisture from the corner of her eye. After a long while, he leaned in and said in a low voice: “That woman must envy me.”

His voice was light, carrying a hint of pride.

“Yes, she envies you.”

Yu Lingxi embraced Ning Yin, burying her face in his chest. “Because you are happier than she was, because… I love you.”

The words were soft, but Ning Yin heard them.

He narrowed his bright eyes as if he had won against an invisible enemy as if he had won against his own desperate and helpless self in the small dark room.

By the wall was a splash of red. Looking closer, it was a frail touch-me-not flower.

Its stem was thin, its leaves withered, so weak it seemed a breeze could topple it, but it had survived in the crevice of stones and had even bloomed a fiery red flower.

“There’s a flower,” Yu Lingxi smiled.

In this oppressive prison, life was struggling to survive, blooming passionately.

“Do you know, touch-me-nots have nectar.”

She carefully picked the flower that was about to wither and handed it to Ning Yin. “Don’t believe me? Taste it.”

Ning Yin lowered his gaze to look at the flower that could hardly be called beautiful. After a moment, he leaned down, taking the flower from her hand with his mouth, gently holding it.

The bright red bloomed between his thin lips, cool, somewhat bitter.

Yu Lingxi smiled skillfully, pulling at his clothes as she stood on tiptoe, raising her face to kiss the flower between his lips.

The wind rose, and tree shadows danced. The fragrance mingled, and the light red flower juice flowed down their lips, only to be quickly licked clean.

The wind stopped, and sunlight poured over the high wall into his eyes.

Ning Yin raised his finger to wipe her lips, as bright as the touch-me-not flower, and whispered in her ear: “This nectar is not as sweet as Suisui’s.”

Yu Lingxi’s eyes rippled with light as she gasped: “Your Majesty, mind your words.”

Ning Yin laughed with great pleasure.

After such commotion, Yu Lingxi was tired, so she pulled Ning Yin to find a clean stone step to sit on, resting her head on his broad shoulder.

For a moment, only the rustle of the wind stirring fallen leaves could be heard.

Ning Yin looked down; the beautiful empress leaning on his shoulder had fallen into a light sleep. Sunlight poured over the high wall, gilding the upper half of her face, making her eyelashes and hair strands glow.

In Ning Yin’s memory, the Cold Palace had only endless darkness and coldness.

But now, there was light.

Sleeping here would cause a chill, so Ning Yin simply scooped up her knees, lifting her entirely, and headed toward the Kunning Palace.

Red walls and golden tiles, palace people all made way and knelt. The young emperor in crimson robes carried his empress across the prostrating palace people, as if no one else existed, walking steadily step by step along the long palace path.

A gentle breeze caressed their faces, the golden shawl hanging long, floating like a golden mist. The dragon-patterned jade pendant at Yu Lingxi’s waist clinked against the auspicious rabbit sachet hanging from Ning Yin’s belt, turning and rubbing.

In the slight jostling, Yu Lingxi murmured drowsily.

“Ning Yin.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t be afraid.”

“…Mm.”

The slanting sun shone upon them, their long shadows merging into one, as beautiful as a painting.

May everything be as wished, and may Suisui always be peaceful.

Day after day, year after year, until eternity.

(The End)