In the height of summer that year, Emperor Ai of Han died young without leaving an heir. Grand Marshal Dong Xian, who had been exclusively favored by Emperor Ai, also followed the emperor to the Yellow Springs. Wang Yan’s father resumed the position of Grand Marshal and enthroned the young Prince of Zhongshan as emperor. The new emperor was the same age as her.

With a weak ruler and strong minister, even though Wang Yan didn’t understand court politics, she knew her father must hold absolute power.

But her father had always valued his reputation, so this absolute power would naturally not give others cause for criticism. It was said her father bestowed grace and rewards upon nobles and aristocrats above, and supported widowers, widows, and orphaned commoners below. When disasters struck, he led donation efforts and provided full rescue assistance, earning unanimous praise from court and countryside, all calling him the Duke of Zhou reborn. Who couldn’t do good deeds? Moreover, in her father’s position, sometimes he only needed to make a gesture and naturally people would rush forward to do things for him.

Wang Yan silently stayed in their still simple and shabby residence, accompanying her mother in needlework, occasionally staring blankly at the elusive Xiezhi. Time quickly flew by like flowing water, slipping away through her fingers.

In the blink of an eye, the new emperor was already twelve years old, reaching the age according to the Rites of Zhou when one could marry. Wang Yan heard that her father had issued an edict selecting famous families’ daughters throughout the realm to choose an empress. To avoid suspicion, he had deliberately crossed out her name in public. Instead, this action provoked strong protests from the people, with many officials feeling this was unfair, crowding daily at the palace gates or the Wang mansion gates to submit petitions.

Wang Yan originally thought her father was right to do this—she didn’t want to enter the palace as empress anyway. But when she saw the Xiezhi lying on the cushion with its seemingly amused gaze, she was suddenly startled.

Was this another of her father’s schemes?

When she heard the crowds outside the courtyard loudly calling “We wish to have the Duke’s daughter as mother of the realm,” she knew she was definitely going to become this empress.

Wang Yan actually didn’t want to marry. She had fantasized about her future husband, but never imagined it would be the emperor. Yet she couldn’t refuse to marry. Her eldest brother Wang Yu, who opposed their father at home, felt their father’s willfulness would definitely offend the new ruler and wanted to secretly help the emperor’s maternal relatives avoid being sent away from the capital. But when word leaked out, her eldest brother was arrested and imprisoned by their father using thunderous methods, personally given a cup of poison. Moreover, he blamed this incident on the emperor’s maternal clan, using it as pretext to eliminate them all at once.

The court’s attitude toward this matter was that her father had righteously destroyed his relative for the public good, forgetting personal interests.

So Wang Yan had no choice but to marry, because this was definitely her father’s expectation.

Her father had already obtained power equal to an emperor’s, so even if he couldn’t sit on that throne himself, he wanted descendants with his bloodline to sit there.

However, when Wang Yan sat in Weiyang Palace for the first time in her life, adorned from head to toe with gold hairpins and jade ornaments, heavily made up, in the most beautiful attire of her life, she knew she could not bear the emperor’s children.

Because he simply wouldn’t let her approach.

It seemed the other party knew her father’s intentions just as clearly.

Just like the brilliant and mighty Emperor Wu of Han, Liu Che, who also had the childhood name Liu Zhi (Little Pig), imperial clan children, like commoners, were given rather crude childhood names, hoping they would be easier to raise.

Before Wang Mang named him Liu Kan, he was called Liu Jizi. Not meaning the star constellation Winnowing Basket, but the winnowing basket used for holding grain or trash. Fortunately, with Emperor Wu’s childhood name of Liu Wild Boar preceding him, Liu Kan was actually quite satisfied with his own childhood name.

But now he was called Liu Kan. This name was given by the person he most despised. Liu Kan, Liu Cut—did that person want to cut him down? It definitely didn’t mean joy and stability! Look how everything from his name to his empress was arranged by that man’s hand—how could he be joyful and stable?

Liu Kan lived suffocatingly in the palace, so naturally he wouldn’t show Wang Yan a pleasant face. From the second day after Wang Yan married into the palace, she washed off all her makeup, removed her heavy ceremonial robes, and put on simple old clothes again. The palace maids reminded her this wouldn’t win the emperor’s favor, but Wang Yan was calm about it. The emperor disliked her because of her father. She couldn’t change her birth, so whether she dressed beautifully or plainly made no difference. Why make herself uncomfortable?

Moreover, with her father there, which palace maid would dare secretly climb into the emperor’s bed? They weren’t seeking death. Even the little emperor himself probably didn’t dare arbitrarily ennoble consorts or take beauties.

Furthermore, Wang Yan could see this little emperor was willing but unable.

Liu Kan was the same age as her, but his health was poor, constantly suffering from heart pain, chest obstruction, shortness of breath and other symptoms—supposedly ailments brought from the womb. Presumably, this was also why her father chose Liu Kan from countless Liu clan members: young age, weak and sickly, posing no threat to him whatsoever.

Looking at the young emperor’s pretense of coldness masking actual weakness, even when arguing with her he would clutch his chest halfway through and gasp for breath, this appearance as if he’d fall over in a breeze made Wang Yan feel involuntary sympathy from the bottom of her heart. Regardless of his cold expression, she always treated him gently, carefully attending to him.

Having grown accustomed to independence since childhood, Wang Yan never let palace maids serve her closely, doing everything she could manage herself. Incidentally, Liu Kan was also cared for by her with meticulous attention.

Wang Yan had younger brothers. Since her second brother’s death, her father and mother had never spoken to each other, and her father quickly took concubines. But Wang Yan never acknowledged the children born to those concubines as her siblings, never showing them any warmth. She cared for Liu Kan like her own younger brother, putting her heart and effort into it regardless of his cold mockery and disdain.

“The empress need not trouble herself with such tasks.” This was a phrase Liu Kan often had on his lips.

But Wang Yan pretended not to hear, personally taking care of Liu Kan’s clothing, food, housing, and daily needs. Liu Kan was imperial clan, naturally handsome and talented. Though not yet of high age, short in stature, and physically weak with shortness of breath, he already possessed considerable bearing. Sometimes when Wang Yan tied his robe sashes, she couldn’t help staring at him in a daze.

How could there be such a beautiful person in the world?

The youth’s thin frame couldn’t support the heavy emperor’s ceremonial robes, showing only one or two parts imperial dignity while arousing involuntary feelings of pity.

This was her husband, her heaven.

Wang Yan became even more devoted. Though she knew her father probably wouldn’t move against the young emperor so quickly, she personally inspected everything that would enter his mouth, tasting it first before presenting it to Liu Kan.

Liu Kan wasn’t made of stone and iron. In day-to-day interaction, the young emperor and empress were like two newly acquainted young people, their feelings growing deeper daily.

However, in the three years since Wang Yan married into the palace, Liu Kan’s health grew worse. The Imperial Physician and multiple Assistant Imperial Physicians diagnosed heart pain syndrome. Though pampered with fine clothes and food, this ailment was ultimately difficult to cure. Wang Yan held a bowl of medicinal soup, tasting it first as usual before bringing it to the lips of Liu Kan, who lay sick in bed. But he directly swept his hand, smashing the medicinal soup to the ground.

Wang Yan’s expression didn’t change as she summoned palace maids to clean up and ordered the kitchen to prepare another bowl of medicinal soup.

Tch, this boy definitely suspects you of poisoning him. Won’t you explain? The Xiezhi lazily rolled over on the luxurious, comfortable soft couch, as usual making sarcastic comments about Wang Yan and Liu Kan’s interaction. In its view, Wang Yan’s kindness to Liu Kan was simply unnecessary—she could obviously live more happily by not caring whether Liu Kan lived or died, especially since this Liu Kan was so ungrateful.

Wang Yan knew her explanations would be useless. Liu Kan was in a difficult environment and couldn’t help being suspicious. Combined with his worsening illness, his temper was increasingly irritable. Sitting by the bed, watching Liu Kan cough heart-rendingly, Wang Yan could only quietly light a burner of benzoin incense. Watching Liu Kan gradually quiet down and sink into sleep in the swirling fragrance, Wang Yan finally breathed a soft sigh of relief.

The world knows only the Duke, but not His Majesty. The Xiezhi squeezed its voice thin to imitate a eunuch’s tone. Finding this amusing, it cackled with laughter.

Wang Yan glanced at it, knowing this creature wasn’t really a divine beast that could distinguish good from evil, but one that feared the world wasn’t chaotic enough. Fortunately, only she could see it, or who knew what havoc it might wreak. Though she’d rather not have this fortune. While thinking helplessly, she walked to the bed to cover Liu Kan with blankets when she suddenly heard commotion outside the hall.

Not wanting Liu Kan, who had finally fallen asleep, to be awakened, Wang Yan frowned and walked outside, stopping the palace maids and eunuchs’ disturbance. Though not yet sixteen, she had been empress for three years. Despite wearing no silk or satin, with only a phoenix coral hairpin casually inserted in her hair, when she stood there, her bearing made others dare not underestimate her. Seeing the palace maids quiet down, Wang Yan asked in a displeased low voice, “What matter causes such panic?”

“Reporting to the Empress, there’s an assassin!” The palace maids knelt trembling on the ground, reporting everything they had heard.

Wang Yan’s elegant brows knitted tighter. More precisely, what had entered the palace wasn’t an assassin but a thief. Thieves had infiltrated the Grand Empress Dowager’s palace, turning the sleeping chambers upside down. But Wang Yan’s great-aunt had always led in frugality—if the thieves had the ability to infiltrate the palace, why run to the palace with the least valuables? Could it be the thieves wanted specific treasures from beside the Grand Empress Dowager? Wang Yan suddenly thought that the Imperial Seal, the He Shi Bi, was kept with her great-aunt. She specifically inquired whether anything was missing and only nodded reassuringly after receiving a negative answer.

Instructing the guards to maintain full vigilance, Wang Yan pondered while walking back into the hall. But just as she turned past the layers of curtains, she heard voices speaking inside. With only the sleeping Liu Kan in the hall, who else could be there? Startled, Wang Yan thought of the thief from before and nearly cried out in alarm. But fearing the thief had already taken Liu Kan hostage, she forced herself to concentrate and listen carefully.

She heard a clear male voice say, “…You’re saying this is the Han Dynasty now? Well, that makes sense—there aren’t even tables and chairs here. There’s no boss here either… Eh? Holy crap! That little sheep on the soft couch is actually alive! Why does its head look like a qilin’s? And it has a horn on its forehead! Damn! What kind of divine beast is this? Did it also run out of the Classic of Mountains and Seas?”

Wang Yan was stunned, her anxious heart somehow calming down. Though the Xiezhi was always unreliable, she still believed its claim that those who could see it were truly good people.

Then another steadier male voice spoke up, “Keep it down. Don’t you see someone’s sleeping on that bed? Want to wake them up and have guards catch us? Also, what little sheep? I don’t see anything.”

“…You can’t see it? Fine. Maybe it’s some strange divine beast that ran out of the Classic of Mountains and Seas. Don’t mind it… Eh? Speaking of which, this person has congenital heart disease! Look, his lips, nose tip, and cheeks already show cyanosis. He definitely has intermittent breathing difficulties or fainting symptoms.”

“You want to treat him?”

“Can’t treat it. In modern times, this would just need a small surgery to fix, but in this era…”

Wang Yan clutched the clothes at her chest, too upset to speak. She didn’t hear clearly what else those two people said. She didn’t know their origins or why one of them could see the Xiezhi clearly, but she could tell that Liu Kan’s illness wasn’t optimistic.

Quietly wiping away tears, when Wang Yan came to her senses, she found the sleeping chamber had returned to silence. She tiptoed in and indeed found that apart from the sleeping Liu Kan, there were no outsiders in the hall.

The Xiezhi lay thoughtfully on the soft couch. Facing Wang Yan’s questioning gaze, it slowly yawned.

The incident of thieves entering Weiyang Palace caused a sensation for a time, but ultimately came to nothing.