Sima Jiao, the ruler of Hu Kingdom, had suffered from insomnia and frequent dreams since childhood. His dreams were often chaotic, mostly without specific imagery—just vast red skies, blood, and flames, occasionally dark palaces and chains pressing down on his head, all extremely oppressive.

Just like those teachers who had once lectured him, with their lengthy sermons and contemptuous, rejecting gazes, these dreams were deeply unpleasant.

Yet, occasionally, he would dream of a person—a woman.

Sometimes she sat by a mountain stream, her bare feet in the water, reaching up to break off a tender green leaf, which she casually swept through the clear waters. Sunlight fell on her ankles, on her long lashes and cheeks, and her fingers as they created ripples in the water.

In his dreams, he felt very peaceful, even harboring gentle emotions as he watched. Through these dreams, he seemed to feel the coolness of the stream water.

Sometimes, she lay in soft, luxurious bedding, sinking into its plush embrace like a date wrapped in sweet pastry, exuding a faintly sweet fragrance. Occasionally she would turn over, stretching out her hand to rest it on the edge of the bed. In his dream, he would lift her hand and squeeze each of her fingers one by one.

At other times, she would weep before him in his dreams, as if he had broken her heart, making her unable to find joy even in dreams, compelling her to shed tears for him, forcing him to have no outlet for the pain in his heart.

The face of the person in his dreams had gradually become clearer as he grew older, becoming increasingly vivid. However, the question of who she was had troubled him for years.

“Who are you?”

“Liao Tingyan, I am Liao Tingyan.” By the time they met, she was already Liao Tingyan.

Sima Jiao stood before Liao Tingyan, his hand caressing her chin and cheeks. His fingers carried a slight coolness, and his gaze held much curiosity.

Liao Tingyan had finished crying and had finally recovered from the emotion of their reunion. She sat there looking up at Sima Jiao, as though gazing at a flower that had bloomed again after many years. After the initial surge of emotions subsided, waves continued to wash against the shore, creating small splashes.

If there hadn’t been so many people watching, she might have been unable to resist touching his face as well.

Hmm… she looked carefully and noted that the current “Your Majesty” was still a young one, appearing to be about sixteen years old, quite different from his former self, seeming more immature. The previous Sima Jiao had appeared as a young adult—after all, he had lived for many years—and his usual expressions, demeanor, and movements all carried an adult quality. But the current Sima Jiao… was truly tender.

His eyes were the same eyes, but without the layering of hundreds of years of memories, they appeared much clearer, and slightly rounder. His facial contours were also softer than his adult appearance, less sharp, as were his nose and lips—all quite adorable.

This feeling was like suddenly returning to her teenage years and seeing a young lover’s face—she was nearly killed by how cute he was! Even if he had previously been a selfish old bastard, it couldn’t diminish his current cuteness.

His little face was so delicately smooth.

Liao Tingyan couldn’t resist reaching out to touch the emperor’s face.

Sima Jiao: “…?”

The beauty before him, who had been weeping just moments ago, had been brought to him by force. Of course, he could touch her face whenever he wanted, but what was her deal, touching his face so naturally in return? Was he truly the tyrannical ruler with the frightening reputation, or was it her?

Sima Jiao looked at her strangely: “You dare to touch my face?”

Liao Tingyan: “…” To be honest, Your Majesty, I’ve touched your backside before, so what’s the big deal about touching your face?

Sima Jiao discovered that he wasn’t angry at being disrespected; instead, he found it curious and asked: “You don’t seem to fear me?”

Liao Tingyan: Huh? Do I need to act afraid of you now?

But she had just arrived in this place and hadn’t completed her backstory as his former partner. She didn’t know what terrifying things this tyrant had done, so where should she begin showing fear? Honestly, her acting skills hadn’t improved at all over the years, and she wasn’t sure if she could handle this Sima Jiao.

Sima Jiao: “Haven’t you heard that I kill as easily as crushing ants?”

Liao Tingyan: “Wow?”

Sima Jiao was dissatisfied with her clueless response. He figured this young lady must be too young and too sheltered, unaware of the world’s suffering, not even having heard of his reputation. She probably couldn’t imagine what his killing was like.

So Sima Jiao sat down grandly beside her, leaning against the table, waving away the attendants standing nearby, then looked her up and down brazenly. In a perversely twisted tone, he said: “I once played a person who dared to curse me and hung him at the palace gate until wind and rain reduced him to white bones.”

Liao Tingyan: Yes, that’s truly frightening—if there wasn’t the comparison to the former Sima Jiao who would casually exterminate entire clans, kill everyone in the inner circle of Gengchen Immortal Mansion with a single move, and burn half the demon generals of the Demon Realm to use as flower fertilizer.

Sima Jiao could tell that the beauty before him wasn’t frightened. He chuckled softly, lifting her chin, “Aren’t you afraid that if you anger me, I’ll deal with you the same way? I’m not someone who cherishes beautiful women.”

Of course, this man had never been associated with cherishing women. She remembered how when she first entered Gengchen Immortal Mansion and was selected for his Three Sacred Mountain Tower, she had watched him kill many beautiful women. When he wanted to kill, he never discriminated between men and women.

Yes, she had recalled a small portion of her memories—memories that returned after Sima Jiao had turned himself into a candle. Perhaps the shock had triggered them.

The sixteen-year-old Sima Jiao leaned in close, deliberately trying to frighten her by recounting his “great achievements,” but Liao Tingyan wasn’t scared at all; she even wanted to laugh.

Alright, she should give His Majesty some face. After all, he was supposed to be the terrifying emperor.

“So… so scary.” Her voice trembled slightly—trembling from holding back laughter.

Sima Jiao: “…” He felt something strange about this woman.

Sima Jiao: “You don’t seem to understand your fate. I am Emperor Sima Jiao, and you will accompany me to Yan City, the royal capital.” From now on, she would leave her hometown and be locked in that palace cage.

Liao Tingyan nodded with restraint: “Alright, I agree.”

Sima Jiao: “…I am not asking for your agreement. I am telling you that from now on, you are my woman.” His meaningful gaze swept over her body, waiting to see her panic and dismay.

Panic and dismay were impossible. Liao Tingyan hesitated as she looked at the young emperor’s smooth face, thinking that youth was truly wonderful. Even when he said such nonsense, seeing his tender face, she couldn’t get angry.

However, being his woman didn’t seem appropriate. Considering such matters now was far too early.

Although this wasn’t the modern world, Sima Jiao’s current body was only sixteen years old—he probably hadn’t even fully matured. He likely didn’t remember his past life, and his mentality was still that of a rebellious teenager. She really couldn’t bring herself to take advantage of him.

No, her conscience wouldn’t allow her to sleep with an underage boy. She would wait at least two more years.

“Your Majesty, can we discuss this in two years? Or perhaps one year?” Liao Tingyan tactfully changed the subject pronoun from ‘you’ to ‘I’.

“I’m still young and a bit scared.”

Sima Jiao: “…” What nonsense was this person talking about?

His fair face darkened, “You think you have a choice? If I want it, you can belong to me right now.”

Liao Tingyan: Stop, don’t force me to commit a crime. My willpower is very weak, and my sense of morality is diminishing. With one careless moment, I might do something.

Perhaps because she was now much stronger than Sima Jiao, she found it amusing to hear a sixteen-year-old boy try to provoke her. Liao Tingyan considered herself an adult now, a powerful demon master who could pin Sima Jiao to the bed with just one finger, so she was quite tolerant.

Huh, no matter what you say, I won’t get angry with you, you little brat.

But later, when she was “abducted” to a spacious carriage and was being taken back to Yan City, the royal capital, Sima Jiao suddenly said to her as she was naturally lying beside him, preparing to rest: “Are you stupid? Why aren’t you reacting at all? If you enter my harem like this, you’ll be eaten alive by the women there.”

Mature Adult·Never Gets Angry·Liao Tingyan: Harem women? What women? Sima Jiao, you’re dead. Your decades of life are about to end prematurely!

Seeing Liao Tingyan’s expression finally changed, Sima Jiao felt extremely satisfied. He thought, “Now you’re afraid,” and said with slight smugness: “If you can please me, I will ensure you have no worries.”

He calculated his current harem situation, trying to recall what the most prominent women recently looked like, but having been away for a while, he couldn’t remember clearly.

As an emperor, he naturally had a harem. Some beauties were selected according to tradition, while others were gifts. Various lords and nobles loved exchanging beautiful women as gifts—this was the custom in Hu Kingdom. Sima Jiao, as ruler, particularly enjoyed giving concubines to others.

When he disliked a certain official, he would gift that official a beautiful woman. Those he sent out were all exceptional competitors in his harem’s power struggles; none of them were easy to handle.

He kept beauties sent from various parties as if raising crickets, making them fight each other. Whoever had the skill and cunning to prevail was something he could use.

This troublesome emperor, every time he gave away a beauty, would claim it was for harmony between ruler and ministers. But when the virtuous King Hu gave beautiful concubines to his generals, it was because of brotherly feelings and sharing. Sima Jiao, however, did it with the intention of tormenting officials he disliked. Giving one beauty could turn an official’s household upside down, causing chaos. He had disrupted countless harmonious families of court officials.

Now those officials feared most the emperor’s whims during festival banquets, where he would always give away several beauties. This wasn’t giving beauties; it was sending harbingers of disaster.

Liao Tingyan didn’t know these details. She gritted her teeth, looking at Sima Jiao sitting there like a lord, then suddenly raised her hand and waved. Sima Jiao blinked, then slowly closed his eyes. His eyelids lowered, but his eyeballs still moved, as if struggling to wake up.

Liao Tingyan put her arm around his neck, softly comforting him: “You’re tired, sleep.” Only then did Sima Jiao stop struggling and slowly fall asleep.

After putting him to sleep, Liao Tingyan took his wrist and pressed it, then curled her lip.

Tsk, this innocent boy.

However, his body was truly in poor condition.

Liao Tingyan examined him carefully and found that his soul had indeed been damaged back then and hadn’t integrated well with his current body. He probably often suffered from headaches. There were dark circles under his eyes, visible now that he was peacefully asleep, indicating poor sleep quality.

Was insomnia hereditary for him? How could he still sleep poorly even in a different body?

His body was too weak, influenced by his soul and congenital illness. He probably didn’t care much, being so young, but if he were an ordinary person without spiritual medicines for treatment, he might only live to his thirties.

She had been a bit angry with him earlier, but now seeing his frail body, her heart began to ache with sympathy. Fortunately, she was a cultivator.

“How do you manage to make yourself so miserable wherever you go?” Liao Tingyan said softly, pecking the emperor’s cheek.

She took out a jade bottle. This was Ginseng Dew from Senior Brother of Guyu Valley. It didn’t contain much spiritual energy—cultivators mostly drank it for the taste—but for ordinary people, it was a top-grade nourishing tonic. She had many better options, but this was the most suitable now.

She took a small sip, then lowered her head to kiss Sima Jiao’s lips, feeding him a small amount. Even this he couldn’t drink much of now, but in the future, she could give him a little each day.

Sima Jiao frowned, his fingers twitching once, appearing unsettled. Liao Tingyan held his neck, her hand brushing his forehead to calm him, then rested against his chest.

His senses were keen; even with an ordinary body, his soul was still Sima Jiao’s.

His chest was somewhat thin now, indeed that of a teenage boy. His chest wasn’t as cold as before, carrying the warmth characteristic of youth, only his hands were slightly cool. His heart beat slowly, indicating he had entered deep sleep.

Liao Tingyan gazed absently at his chin for a while, then nuzzled against his chest and fell asleep beside him.