Sima Jiao awoke to find himself asleep in the carriage. He rarely slept soundly, especially in a moving carriage. Recalling what happened before he fell asleep, he realized his memory was somewhat hazy—it seemed he had been talking with Liao Tingyan, and as they conversed, he began to feel drowsy. This woman was suspicious, he immediately realized.

The suspicious woman was hugging his neck, leaning against his chest, sleeping soundly. When Sima Jiao first awoke, his mind still not entirely clear, he instinctively held her waist and squeezed the back of her neck. Only after doing this did he come to his senses, looking at his hand with an inscrutable expression.

Who exactly was this woman?

After all, Sima Jiao was a typically irritable emperor who wouldn’t allow “anyone to snore beside his bed.” No living creature could sleep peacefully beside him, and generally, if someone was near him, he absolutely couldn’t sleep.

“Wake up,” Sima Jiao shook the woman in his arms who showed no signs of waking.

Liao Tingyan, relaxed and sleeping comfortably, felt the familiar rhythm of this wake-up service and naturally had a conditioned response—Sima Jiao was disturbing her again.

So following her conditioned reflex, she tightened her arms around Sima Jiao’s neck, buried her face in his neck, and mumbled vaguely: “Mm-hmm, don’t make noise.”

She didn’t even open her eyes.

Sima Jiao felt her nose and lips near his neck, her breath brushing his skin, making his entire body feel strange. It was the type of feeling where his rationality detected something amiss, but he couldn’t quite react; his vigilance and estimation of danger couldn’t be deployed.

This Liao Tingyan had a face that often appeared in his dreams. Could it be because of this that he could tolerate her to this extent? Sima Jiao didn’t quite understand, furrowing his brow in deep thought for a while. When he came back to his senses, he found that he was still holding her in his arms without pushing her away, and his hand seemed to have its consciousness as it caressed her waist.

His Majesty’s face was full of contemplation as he thought, quite pleasant to touch.

He rubbed his fingers and thought, very well, he would keep her by his side and observe. If anything was amiss, she would eventually reveal herself. Since this woman was so close and eager to please him, he might as well give her a higher rank when they returned to the palace.

As he thought, he lifted the carriage curtain to look outside. Brilliant sunlight poured into the carriage, shining on Liao Tingyan’s face.

Liao Tingyan: “…Hot.”

Sima Jiao: “…”

He rapped his knuckles on the carriage wall, and the carriage immediately slowed down. An attendant opened the gauze door and brocade curtain, kneeling before the carriage door: “Your Majesty—”

At a glance, he saw Sima Jiao holding Liao Tingyan and showing a surprised expression, which quickly turned to terror as he lowered his head under Sima Jiao’s suddenly darkening face.

Sima Jiao: “Bring ice.”

To be ready to satisfy His Majesty’s various needs at any moment, the caravan carried many luxury items. The attendant acknowledged the order and quickly had others bring up an ice container emitting cold air.

Liao Tingyan had awakened after that cry of “hot.” She had been careless in her sleepy state and almost used magic to cool herself down. Fortunately, she remembered the current situation—it was her first day meeting the mortal emperor Sima Jiao, and such a display might frighten him.

What if he mistook her for some demon, like a fox spirit intent on disrupting the court? She didn’t want to follow that script.

She had been too relaxed around him; she couldn’t continue like this and needed to be more careful.

Sima Jiao: “If you’re awake, get up. My leg has gone numb from your weight.”

Liao Tingyan slowly sat to the side, looking at his leg. Mortal bodies were truly too fragile. In a moment of distraction, a scene flashed before her eyes like a rippling light.

Sima Jiao, dressed in a black robe, sitting on a giant snake, looking down at her in his arms, saying somewhat disdainfully: “With such little cultivation, you’re too weak. Wouldn’t you die if I used just a bit of force?”

And then she saw this same Sima Jiao, unhesitatingly piercing his palm to feed her his blood.

She had once been as fragile as an ordinary person; it was he who had transformed her into what she was now.

…

The sixteen-year-old emperor in the carriage didn’t notice Liao Tingyan’s expression. He had someone open the ice container and take out the chilled fruits inside, indicating that Liao Tingyan should eat.

“Eat.”

He leaned back, tapping his knee, suddenly wondering, why I so naturally wanted her to eat.

Liao Tingyan blinked, holding the cold peach, and moved to Sima Jiao’s side, pretending to massage his numb leg while sending several streams of spiritual energy into him to improve his blood circulation.

His Majesty, who had been about to call an attendant to massage his leg, grunted twice through his nose, then leaned back like a lord, feeling that this beauty was indeed fond of him—embracing him, sending secret glances, and now massaging his leg of her own accord.

His Majesty felt rather inflated.

Liao Tingyan only massaged three times before withdrawing her hand to eat the peach. How to put it? It was indeed difficult to go from luxury to plainness—after eating too many spiritual foods and fruits from the cultivation world, this flavor wasn’t quite enough.

Sima Jiao: “…Don’t you know how to please someone?” What did it mean to massage only three times?

Liao Tingyan: “…Is Your Majesty’s foot still numb?” Wasn’t it his foot that was numb? She had already used spiritual energy; three massages were enough.

Sima Jiao: “…” Indeed, it wasn’t numb anymore, but is this the extent of your effort to please me?

He fixed Liao Tingyan with an authoritative and oppressive gaze. Generally, when he displayed such an expression, whether ministers, attendants, or harem beauties, all would be terrified.

Liao Tingyan thought: Do you really have to look at me like this? Are you, Sima Jiao, wheedling?

Forget it, she thought, he’s only sixteen, hasn’t even passed his rebellious phase, what’s the harm in indulging him? Old grass shouldn’t quibble with young cattle—if he wants his leg massaged, so be it.

Although his goal was achieved, for some reason, His Majesty felt that Liao Tingyan’s thoughts weren’t quite aligned with his own. He had this feeling, even feeling as though he’d heard Liao Tingyan fondly calling him “little emperor” in her heart.

Sima Jiao: “…” Must be an illusion.

Looking at the river outside the window, he suddenly remembered something and knocked on the carriage wall again.

“Your Majesty.” A person riding a horse outside the carriage approached and spoke softly.

Sima Jiao asked: “What of Wei Xianyu?”

The attendant replied: “Governor Wei has returned.”

Sima Jiao rubbed his brow. He had forgotten to deal with Wei Xianyu. His visit to Liyang wasn’t random; Wei Xianyu had previously colluded with the Marquis of Nanyan, secretly engaging in many underhanded activities. He had originally planned to deal with Wei Xianyu during this trip, but… he glanced at Liao Tingyan beside him… something had happened, and he had momentarily forgotten about it.

He hesitated between “temporarily sparing Wei Xianyu” and “sending people back immediately to deal with Wei Xianyu while they weren’t far,” ultimately choosing the latter.

Since they had already come, he certainly couldn’t let him off. He immediately dispatched several people to return and resolve the matter.

Those people caught up with the entourage a few days later, bringing back results that satisfied Sima Jiao.

He had a group of obedient and useful eunuchs who were fiercely loyal to him. These eunuchs were as infamous as the vicious beauties in his harem; in the eyes of the ministers, none of them were good people. The venomous beauties ruined families, while the ruthless eunuchs took lives—inside and outside, they were complete in both killing and causing trouble.

Over the years, anyone who displeased Sima Jiao met a terrible fate.

If not for everyone being terrified of Sima Jiao, with his casual departures from the palace for one or two months at a time, the court would have been in an uproar long ago. How could it be so quiet as a chicken?

It was fortunate that he didn’t attend to court affairs; they were mostly handled by several elderly ministers representing different factions. These ministers could stage a grand drama in court, turning the emperor, who should have been the protagonist, into a mere spectator.

A feared and despised spectator.

As soon as Sima Jiao’s procession entered the royal capital of Yan City, many people waiting at the city gates rushed back to inform various parties that Sima Jiao had returned, signaling the end of everyone’s good days.

Liao Tingyan found it quite novel. Though she had been with Sima Jiao for a long time, and back then he was powerful and feared by all, he didn’t like to maintain an exaggerated posture or entourage. He preferred to travel with her and the black snake, becoming unhappy if disturbed. But now, with this grand procession, he truly appeared “imperial.”

The convoy traveled along the broad main street directly to the palace gates, with heavy guards already stationed along the route, preventing others from approaching.

The royal palace of Yan City was a vast complex of buildings, different from the cultivator and demon realm structures Liao Tingyan had seen before. This palace seemed to have some history; its architecture was majestic, with gray-green brick walls giving off an air of simple solidity—perhaps it was the trace of time unique to mortals, quite different from the perpetually new and splendid structures of the cultivation world.

She had been a “cultivator” for many years and had almost forgotten that she was once an ordinary person.

Sima Jiao noticed her gazing out the window with a somewhat melancholy, absent expression, which made him displeased. Could it be that she was unwilling to enter the palace? Had she only now realized what kind of life awaited her? What did her expression mean?

When Sima Jiao became displeased, he decided to raise Liao Tingyan’s rank even higher than he had originally planned.

Surely she would be happy then.

If she still wasn’t happy with this, it would be too presumptuous of her, and he wouldn’t tolerate it forever.

Liao Tingyan, completely unaware of what His Majesty had concocted in his mind, was taken to Sima Jiao’s imperial palace. After bathing, changing clothes, and being properly groomed, she attended the evening banquet.

Every time Sima Jiao returned from his wanderings, he would hold a banquet to enhance relationships with his long-unseen ministers—by giving them beauties.

His harem members sat in the inner hall, separated by a screen, their graceful silhouettes faintly visible. In the outer hall were the ministers, each with such a solemn expression that they looked as though they were attending a funeral.

Sima Jiao brought Liao Tingyan in last. She felt that as she walked beside Sima Jiao, everyone was looking at her, even more than at Sima Jiao.

Sima Jiao sat in the main seat and, instead of sending Liao Tingyan to sit in the inner hall, had her sit directly beside him—a move that caused another wave of astonishment. Liao Tingyan’s keen ears caught the immediate commotion among the group of beauties in the inner hall.

“Begin the feast.”

At Sima Jiao’s command, attendants brought hot dishes and wine in an endless stream, removing the original pastries and other items. Elegant dancers swayed their waists, drifting in from outside the hall, and in the blink of an eye, there was a scene of song and dance revelry.

Liao Tingyan looked at the dishes before her and prepared to eat with appetite. She took a bite on her own, then heard the wine-serving attendant nearby gasp. Suddenly remembering that times were different now, her chopsticks froze.

Sima Jiao casually said to Liao Tingyan: “Eat whatever you like.”

Then, turning his head, he said to the attendant with displeasure: “Get out.”

The attendant hurriedly wiped the cold sweat from his brow and left. His Majesty’s temperament seemed somewhat better than before—truly a life saved.

After eating a few bites to try the flavors, Liao Tingyan noticed Sima Jiao resting his chin in his hand, watching her eat without touching his chopsticks. She couldn’t help asking: “Is Your Majesty not eating?”

During their time on the road, he rarely ate. He had been like this before—not fond of eating anything—but now he was a mortal. How could he survive without eating? No wonder his body was in such a state; this man had too many bad habits.

Liao Tingyan pondered when she could prepare some nourishing food for him privately, and casually scooped a meatball for him: “Your Majesty, this is delicious. Would you like to try it?”

The attendant who had just arrived with wine witnessed this and was so frightened that he dropped his tray.

Liao Tingyan thought: What’s with all these dramatic reactions?

Sima Jiao looked at the meatball in the bowl with annoyance, waving his hand to dismiss the attendant who was kneeling in fear to the side, while answering: “I won’t eat it.”

Was this picky-eating gene written into his soul?

Liao Tingyan sighed, taking back the meatball to eat herself.

Perhaps because His Majesty was too harmless tonight, the ministers, not experiencing his usual antics, gradually relaxed and enjoyed the feast of song and dance. After several rounds of drinks, many were drunk. As customary, ministers came forward to toast.

Then came the reward segment.

Sima Jiao, as usual, bestowed two beauties.

There was a minister surnamed Zhao who had been prominent in recent years, considered one of Sima Jiao’s direct subordinates, and highly valued by him—valued for being shameless enough and ruthless enough. Although only in his twenties, he had been promoted to Shaofu, one of the Nine Ministers. Having been floating on cloud nine for several months and now drunk on wine, feeling somewhat elevated, he spoke in a half-joking tone to show intimacy: “Your Majesty’s new beauty pleases me greatly. I wonder if you might part with her.”

The hall abruptly fell silent.

Sima Jiao did not speak. He turned his gaze toward Shaofu Zhao, his face expressionless.

The music and dancing in the hall stopped, and the noisy toasts fell silent. Everyone sensed something and spontaneously quieted down, leaving only an oppressive dead silence.

“You want my Noble Consort?” Sima Jiao leaned forward and asked softly.

His voice was light, but it struck like a thunderbolt, startling everyone’s hearts.

Noble Consort? In His Majesty’s harem, all the beauties held the lowest rank, just “beauties.” The positions of Empress, the three First Rank Consorts, and the nine Imperial Concubines were all vacant. He had never promoted any beauty in rank, yet now, without a word, he suddenly brought out a Noble Consort.

A woman of unknown origin suddenly became a Noble Consort?

If someone suggested Sima Jiao could be bewitched by beauty, no one would believe it. Yet now, they all weren’t quite so certain.

Shaofu Zhao finally sobered up somewhat. He stared in shock at Sima Jiao’s gloomy face, trembling as he knelt, stammering: “I, I had too much to drink and was momentarily, momentarily confused…”

Sima Jiao lightly tapped the table and said, “Cut out his tongue and hang him at the palace gate.”

Four of the eunuchs who had been standing like shadows nearby stepped forward, pouncing ferociously. Before everyone’s eyes, two held down his limbs, one forced open his mouth, and one cut out his tongue.

“Ugh—ah no—urgh—”

Liao Tingyan still held her chopsticks, watching as two people dragged the convulsing body away. A long red trail was left across the hall floor, with no one cleaning it up. Inside and outside the hall, all was silent.

Sima Jiao then looked at Liao Tingyan, smiling slightly. His youthful face showed no trace of the gloomy malevolence from moments ago. In a gentle tone, he said: “Why did you stop eating? Try this ox tongue dish.” It was as if killing someone had finally relieved him, and now he had developed an interest in the food before him.

Liao Tingyan: “…”