Chapter 346

Chapter 346

Surveying the primordial-like extreme environment, with entire regions collapsing into ruin, the colossal sword had barely touched down before the ground splintered along the cracks like shards sinking into the sea.

The volcanic zone was a charred wasteland—volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, earthquakes, and bitter cold already declaring this place unfit for habitation.

You could say it was utterly 'dead.' The marine life had long received warnings and fled together in mass migration, escaping at breakneck speed.

Because she had drained the land’s spiritual veins to nourish herself, using its fortune to sustain her, she was able to fuse with her body in such a short time.

This scorched-earth tactic was a bit ruthless, but perfect for the situation.

The Kunlun method was a gradual, long-term approach—if she lay low for a hundred years or so, she’d be ready just in time to leave before the end of the Dharma Age. That was the slow-and-steady way.

But when there's a ready-made, quick-fix option?

Of course she’d go—mountains and oceans be damned~

If she ended up killing herself and failing to survive, this place would serve as her tomb. If she did survive? Then everything here would feed her.

As for the resulting disasters growing more frequent, or countless lives lost in the thunder tribulation that accompanied her rebirth—so what? Such tainted bloodlines didn’t deserve to continue anyway. Letting them die out was better than letting them grow up to harm others. She was doing this for the peace of all living beings.

Now she felt suspiciously normal.

This was nothing like that flimsy old body from before—the kind a single lightning bolt could knock her out of.

Getting yeeted out and having to crawl back in? Now that'd be embarrassing.

How was that any different from a headless zombie scrambling around looking for its head, sewing it back on, only for it to pop off again the moment it made one big move?

Since she was stuck in this world for the time being, she had agreed to some temporary contracts.

Like staying put, no large-scale use of abilities, and keeping her cultivation suppressed to Foundation Establishment level.

That was the deal. Su Yi had passed out right after, and upon waking, hastily absorbed the message Jun Sheng left before the lightning started frying her.

He said he was going into seclusion and told her to bide her time without causing trouble. Otherwise, when he came back to take her home, he’d rat her out to A’Ruo—including all those past incidents where she’d framed him. That shut Su Yi right up.

But hold on—was this really the plan?! The thunder that hit her when she emerged was brutal, not showing the slightest mercy.

It looked like it was trying to kill her outright, or at least make her suffer if it couldn't finish the job. And you're telling me this was part of the agreement?!

You little snake—did you greenlight a full-power strike?!

If the situation allowed, she’d have marched straight to Kunlun and dug Jun Sheng out just to annoy him.

Before suppressing her cultivation, Su Yi used the "shrinking the ground to inches" technique to escape that wretched place.

Back on dry land—finally free of that endless seawater. Even the wind used to taste salty before.

Now, how to kick off this shiny new life? Su Yi slapped on invisibility and "ignore-me" charms just so she could stand there like a weirdo zoning out, without actually being stared at.

—With her conscience back online, she’d become much more reasonable. Now it was everyone else’s turn to act unhinged.

This was exactly what she was thinking while invisibly looming over Kangxi.

Being called by her true name did ping her senses, but she didn’t need to chase every signal—it was like a Wi-Fi network, some strong, some weak. She could mute the annoying ones to avoid getting pestered.

But Kangxi? Impossible to ignore. And downright unmuteable.

Especially when the signal source seemed to be gradually dimming, yet the sensation became increasingly impossible to ignore.

Su Yi knew this was a trial she was destined to face, but with the right remedy found and successfully endured, it would pass.

It's fine, it's fine. She'll be alright.

And then she got struck by lightning.

Wait, wait a minute?!

Hit dead-on, Su Yi stood expressionless, her eyes blank, her mind shrieking internally.

Thought you were just toying with feelings, but turns out you were serious.

Cut and run, leave the rest to them.

Only to realize in the end that I was the con artist all along!?

Pure guilt. Just plain guilty.

It's fine, it's fine. We won’t meet again anyway. She'd just crash somewhere and sleep until she could go home.

Su Yi: ...

Lurking unseen, she watched as they found the cinchona bark and tested it successfully on the sick palace attendants, only to be stymied by Emperor Kangxi’s refusal.

He looked every bit like someone putting his affairs in order. Though weakened by illness, the Emperor still carried an air of solemn authority; his stern expression radiating icy authority.

The Crown Prince, who might still be persuaded, was still on his way. If anything happened before his arrival, chaos was inevitable. Even if the Prince arrived in time to handle things, the imperial physicians would still be buried with him—the mere idea made them see black.

Su Yi also wanted to black out.

After dismissing everyone, the Emperor reclined weakly on the bed, his voice hoarse. "Even in my final days, you still refuse to see me?" He muttered to himself.

After a suffocating silence, as if drifting off from weakness, his lips moved faintly, the words nearly inaudible unless one leaned in close.

"...I miss you, Su Yi."

Su Yi fell silent. Now she got how Jun Sheng felt watching her lose it.

She's back to normal now, and it's someone else's turn to lose it.

Snatching the medicine with ease, Su Yi hit him with another sleep charm before revealing herself. She walked slowly to the bedside, her gaze lingering on his face—barely aged, just more weathered, though streaks of white now touched his temples. Her eyes paused briefly before she looked away.

She gave his cheek a rough pinch. Originally planning to shove it down his throat, she reconsidered and instead extracted the medicine’s essence, ensuring its purity while preserving its intensely bitter taste—now even more potent due to refinement.

Sure to leave his mouth bitter for hours.

Then she prepared to leave. With some rest, he’d recover.

"Mmm..." The man on the bed frowned, as if stirring awake.

Su Yi hesitated. Did the taste alone wake him up??

Just as she raised her hand to cast another sleeping spell, hers was grabbed in a vise-like hold.

Su Yi: !

Panicked inside, smiling outside—when in trouble, flash a grin and figure it out after.

She wore a flowing celestial dress made of pale yellow mermaid gauze, its hem drifting gracefully with every step, adorned with sparkling gemstones. Her hair was styled in a high half-updo with loose strands cascading down, occasionally braided finely, and she wore a crown of encircling glass pearls. A blue teardrop gemstone hung from the widow’s peak on her forehead. Her delicate features bore only a faint resemblance to her former self.

Kangxi had seen her solid true form—only briefly, but it was burned into his memory.

Before, she had shone like moonlight, making everything around seem dim by comparison. Though her beauty was gentle, Kangxi always felt that wasn’t truly her essence—it should be more radiant, just as she appeared now, glowing brilliantly.

In contrast, Kangxi seemed more brooding; beneath his calm exterior lay a soul tightly wrapped in darkness.

She shimmered because she had seen her beloved.

Yet she herself had been another's guiding light.

Only, at the time, she had not chosen him.

His almond-shaped eyes were wide open now, fixed intently on her. The emotions barely restrained beneath the surface were quickly hidden again. His lips curled slightly, stiff from disuse, yet his joy was unmistakable. “You’ve finally come to see me,” he said.

He suddenly pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck like an overgrown puppy.

Nestled against her skin, Kangxi’s gaze was intense and greedy as he deeply inhaled her long-missed scent, his expression disturbingly obsessive. Yet his voice was bright with excitement as he murmured how much he had missed her, tinged with slight complaint but mostly with sorrow. His lips brushed against her neck, his warm breath sending ticklish sensations across her skin.

This reunion was like being greeted by a loyal dog who had been abandoned yet held no grudge, returning only to nuzzle close. Had he opened with resentment, Su Yi might have turned and fled on the spot.

Guilty as she was, this display of a whining, clingy puppy worked on her. She was far more susceptible to tenderness than force—this way, she wouldn’t immediately knock him out to escape.

But as he clung to her, his affection grew bolder, leaning in for a kiss. Su Yi swiftly blocked his mouth with her hand, snapping back to reality. He had just taken bitter medicine—did he want to share that taste with her?

Since Su Yi left six years ago, Kangxi had also lost the ability to hear her thoughts, as though that connection had existed solely for her and vanished with her departure.

“Your mouth reeks of medicine,” Su Yi protested.

But a deprived puppy wouldn’t give up so easily. Warm kisses trailed from her palm to her fingers, then to her fingertips, sending tingles racing through her entire body.

A perfect example of covering his mouth just to keep him from kissing her outright.

“Stop,” Su Yi said, her brief guilt fading as she braced herself for a real talk.

“I won’t.” He tightened his embrace, his eyes reddening with hurt. Knowing force would only make her flee—and then she’d be impossible to find—Kangxi resorted to patience, wearing her down. “Why are you so cold to me? If I weren’t dying, you wouldn’t have come back at all.”

His initial grievances sounded rehearsed, but as he spoke, the emotions surged, raw and unchecked.

“And now you won’t even let me kiss you…” He nuzzled against her neck again, his voice thick with sorrow, though the look in his eyes as he rested his head on her shoulder was dark and inscrutable. His words were pitiful, but his gaze remained unreadably deep.

He hated her. Hated how she had left him—so casually, as though he meant nothing to her, someone she could discard without pain, someone who would quickly regain composure.

He had cleared every obstacle, eagerly awaiting their grand wedding upon his return from the Southern Tour—only for her to leave him at that very moment.

Kangxi’s breathing grew heavy as he inhaled her scent, suppressing the churning hatred and the dark urge to drag her down with him into hell.

For years, he had sustained himself on that hatred, burying himself in imperial duties to dull the pain. Time had seemed to help—the initial fury had faded, and when he recalled that day, he could even do so calmly, remembering every expression, every movement.

Yet in solitude, he had called her name time and again, never receiving a response—as though it had all been another lie. No matter how many times he called, she never appeared.

When he fell ill, surrounded by panicked whispers and grave diagnoses, his own emotions felt detached, as though death’s fear couldn’t reach him.

Su Yi pinched his lips shut, silencing him. The scene of their separation had been nothing like this—had he forgotten? She knew he wasn’t the type to forgive easily.

The moment he saw her, there had been no hatred—just this clingy, affectionate dog, eager for kisses. She mentally reviewed their parting to confirm she hadn’t misremembered. His reaction almost made it seem like they’d had a friendly parting.

But it didn’t matter. Even if he couldn’t speak, he could still nuzzle and press against her, pushing her onto the bedding, relentless. When Su Yi tried to push him away, he winced, clutching his head. “Ah… it hurts. A-Yi, I’m sick… I need you… Can’t you just humor me a little?”

He used to put on the act of a grieving widower, but now he realized that being too proud got him nowhere.

Being aggressive backfired—it only made the guilt-ridden dig in their heels.

His illness had indeed left him much thinner, and when he said he wasn’t feeling well, it didn’t seem like an act.

"Alright, alright, I’ll humor you," Su Yi said with a helpless sigh, patting his back.

A headache—was it the side effects of the medicine? Did they hit this fast?

She leaned against the stack of folded quilts, shifting into a comfier spot without a second thought. Seeing that she wasn’t trying to push him away, Kangxi cooperated, though he kept a death grip on her hand.

"All these years… where have you been? If you like it there, we can move there together." Kangxi spoke softly beside her. His question seemed gentle, but beneath it lay the unspoken fear—was she going to leave again? Otherwise, why mention a future together?

His eyes stayed glued to her face, tracking every flicker of emotion.

He reached up and lightly touched her headpiece—a gleaming, flawless piece that seemed out of this world. Her clothing, too, was unlike any style he had seen before. Stunning, but completely out of place here.

From the moment Kangxi saw her again, he had resolved not to let her leave. It had become an obsession. With his controlling streak, he’d have strong-armed her into staying if he could—but Su Yi wasn’t someone who could be controlled by force. If she ran, she would hide, and finding her again would be nearly impossible.

He couldn’t let his emotions take over. Keeping her close now drowned out all his bitterness.

All these years, Kangxi had secretly searched for her, but there had been no trace. One dead end after another had driven the once-stoic emperor half-mad. If not for the endless duties that kept him occupied, who knows what state he’d be in?

Now that she was really here—though he’d refused to believe her dead—his nerves were frayed to breaking. One misstep, and he’d lose it.

At first, hatred had outweighed longing. He’d dreamed of clipping her wings when she came back, vowing to show no more patience or tolerance.

Later, as time passed without word, he imagined just talking things out—name it, and it was hers.

And later still, he was willing to change anything she disliked. Just one more glimpse—proof she was alive, so he wasn’t left waiting forever for a ghost.

Keeping her close now drowned out all his bitterness.

Su Yi’s patting did calm him down, and he eventually settled beside her as if asleep. She tried to shift away slightly, but the moment she moved, he pulled her firmly back into his arms.

*Is he really asleep?*

She wondered if he was playing possum, but given how ill he was, what more could he do? The medicine had taken effect quickly, but it wouldn’t restore his health instantly. *Fine, there’s nothing urgent right now. Might as well rest for a while.*

Zoning out at the ceiling beat just lying there awake. The journey here had drained her spiritual energy, and recovery took time. With Kangxi like this, leaving wasn’t an option yet.

After Su Yi fell asleep, Kangxi—who had seemingly been deep in slumber—suddenly opened his eyes. Though weary, his gaze was sharp, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

He stared unblinkingly at Su Yi, his stare downright creepy. Anyone waking to find someone watching them like that would feel unnerved.

Su Yi, too, sensed something watching her—so sharp she almost struck out on reflex. But when she woke, nothing seemed amiss. Kangxi was still "asleep."

*Too sensitive?*

She’d already dialed back her senses to barely sharper than normal, precisely to avoid being disturbed by every little sound.

Su Yi blinked slowly and closed her eyes again.

When she woke next, she was met with the second pup.

Kangxi’s eyes were red, though he hadn’t cried in front of Su Yi. Instead, he clung to her as if making up for all the lost affection. The second pup—now a grown crown prince—stood tall and refined, his sharp eyes puffy and pleading from tears. If manners hadn’t stopped him, he’d have tackled her like a kid, sobbing his heart out.

God knows what he’d endured? One trip south, and his mother was just… gone. His father turned cold, banning any hint of vulnerability after that.

The expectations of him grew far stricter. Being entrusted with weighty duties by the Emperor should’ve been a proud moment, but instead, the Crown Prince watched helplessly as his father became colder and more ruthless with each passing day. Though Kangxi was diligent in governance—swamped with state affairs—it seemed he was always preparing for something, which only led to harsher demands on the Crown Prince, as if burdening him with even greater responsibilities.

When news of the Emperor’s critical condition reached him, a pit-of-the-stomach dread—like something long-feared was finally here—swamped him. Meanwhile, Suo’etu seized the moment to plot control over the capital, pushing the Crown Prince—who’d always shown him deference as an elder—into uncharacteristic rage.

Even his maternal family had their own schemes; the Crown Prince saw it all too clearly. Small slights could slide, but now was not the time to let them continue leading the Hesheli clan. With urgency pressing, the Crown Prince rushed to the scene with the Third Prince in tow.

They rode hard, arriving dusty and road-weary, only to be stopped by Liang Jiugong. The Crown Prince, frayed to the breaking point, almost snapped—how could they be barred at such a critical moment? He was ready to shove Liang aside.

He’d inherited Kangxi’s temper—and his cutting tongue. But as heir apparent, he had to maintain the composure of a refined and worthy prince.

And so, the scene unfolded as it did now.

Su Yi was at her wit’s end.

All the suppressed anxiety and fear that the Emperor might not survive clashed violently with the overwhelming joy of seeing her again, leaving him laughing through tears like some lovesick fool.

Though he was promptly shoved off for reeking of horse and road, told to clean up before returning, he obeyed without protest, throwing longing looks over his shoulder every few steps. The Third Prince, still outside, took one look at his brother’s face and his stomach dropped—could the Emperor really be…?

Then the Crown Prince smiled.

Third Prince: …

Alright then. Probably not. Most likely, the Emperor’s condition had improved. Seeing the Crown Prince go to freshen up, he followed suit. Caked in travel filth, they wouldn’t have bothered under normal circumstances, but this was no time for niceties.

And something else seemed to have happened—something good. The Crown Prince was practically glowing, a rare sight given how much he’d come to resemble Kangxi in recent years, his emotions tightly controlled and seldom displayed.

The Crown Prince returned quickly, resuming the emotional outburst that had been interrupted earlier.

The big dog was all quiet devotion; the little one, pure waterworks.

Here, the Crown Prince’s advantage shone. Banking on childhood nostalgia, he acted as Kangxi’s mouthpiece, laying the groundwork to persuade Su Yi to stay.

It chipped away at her resistance.

Kangxi, watching from the side, gave the Crown Prince a subtle, approving glance. But once the moment passed, he cut him loose without ceremony—his presence was no longer needed.

Crown Prince: …

Though it was good to see Kangxi more like himself, talk about burning bridges fast!

Still, he obediently left.

Su Yi resisted the Crown Prince’s pleas, refusing to indulge him. He was grown now—no sweet talk would work on him anymore.

Her trustworthiness with these two had hit rock bottom.

Su Yi, without a shred of remorse: “You’re not secretly plotting something, are you?”

She knew exactly what he was capable of. That familiar madness—yanking everyone down into his misery, striking down dissenters with whatever excuse came to mind—she couldn’t kid herself. This wasn’t normal.

Meeting his gaze, she said firmly, “You resent me.” Or rather… hate?

“I did.”

This time, Kangxi didn’t look away. The emotions he’d bottled up were plain as day. “But what does it matter?” he said.

The moment he saw her, love had come roaring back, sweeping away any lingering hatred. He had missed her so desperately—even if she hadn’t missed him the same way.

Leaning closer, he brushed her hair aside, his eyes blazing. “Come back to me. Don’t leave again.”

"I can come back to see you occasionally." Mostly because she was sick of the palace—that place had always stifled her.

But how could Kangxi accept that? He feared that once he let her leave, who knew when they’d see each other again—days, months, years, or even longer? Or perhaps not until his death?

"Will you only come to see me when I’m about to die?" Kangxi let out a light laugh, his voice flat, almost numb.

Su Yi sensed something was off.

Oh, of course!

She gripped his wrist tightly, halting the dagger mid-thrust, already through fabric and into skin, preventing it from sinking deeper.

Su Yi was so furious she wanted to curse. "You pick up all the wrong things! Do you think this won’t kill you?!" She reacted fast, but not fast enough to stop the bleeding.

She wanted to yell, *"Are you out of your mind?"*

But now it seemed he truly was—he even managed to smile, like he hadn’t just driven a blade into himself without flinching.

"I wasn’t planning to take medicine," Kangxi said, staring straight at her. "But you came back at this moment, made me take it, and now that I’m better, you want to leave again. If that’s the case, you shouldn’t have appeared at all! You got my hopes up for nothing!" His voice grew agitated by the end, his grip on the dagger still unyielding.

"You once let me send you away. Now, return the favor—stab me and send me away!" He tightened his hold on her hand, his words laced with spite, though the brief spark in his eyes was broken. A mirrored scene, yet the one breaking down was still him.

The dagger was firmly held, unable to move further, yet he pressed forward like he couldn’t even feel it. Even as the dagger was wrested away and flung across the room, embedding itself into a screen, blood seeped into the fabric, soaking deeper, staining his clothes.

Su Yi pressed against the wound, her fingers quickly stained red. The injured man, however, never took his eyes off her expression, as if seeing what he longed for. "A-Yi, you still care about me, don’t you?" He clung stubbornly to this question, refusing to let anyone tend to his wound.

Su Yi couldn’t help but slap him. "Stop this madness."

Yet the man didn’t even flinch. Instead, he held her hand and asked, "Are you angry?" He kissed her palm, unafraid of another strike—almost as if he welcomed it. A level-headed Su Yi dealing with an unhinged Kangxi was no easy task.

Well, slapping him did nothing.

Sometimes you just had to laugh out of sheer frustration.

"Alright, I’m tired of the palace. I’ll find a place in the city…" *You can visit me whenever—* Before she could finish—

"We won’t live in the palace. I’ve had the Changchun Garden built—it’s beautiful. We’ll stay there from now on." Kangxi jumped in to bring up the finished garden. He knew she disliked the palace, and though Changchun Garden had been ready for a while, he had never moved in.

Su Yi: *"What if I admitted that was just a quick lie?"* She had assumed Kangxi, as emperor, couldn’t abandon the palace. Her idea of settling elsewhere was temporary—like exposure therapy, easing him into it until he chilled out.

Su Yi stayed silent, and Kangxi knew it had been a hasty excuse. Maybe there was some truth, but now it was just a ploy to placate him temporarily.

"Let’s not separate again, alright? I don’t have much time left. For you, it’s brief—can’t you spare even that for me?" His voice cracked, thick with feeling. "A-Yi, when I first learned your name, I thought it was a new beginning. Instead, it was a rushed goodbye. Now you’re back, but only for a fleeting stay—not to return to me."

He pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips pale. Still recovering from illness, weakened by blood loss, his emotions in turmoil, nerves frayed from exhaustion—he slumped against her shoulder, murmuring weakly against her ear, "...Don’t be so cruel... A-Yi... Stay with me..."

Tears warmed the cloth between them. He said no more.

After a long pause, Su Yi sighed. "Fine, I’ll stay." *"All this weeping and theatrics—honestly, who’s the fragile one here?"*

Finally getting the answer he wanted, Kangxi’s eyes lit up, feverish. He lifted his head, ecstatic, studying her expression to confirm it was real before eagerly kissing her.

This time, he succeeded—but he didn’t stop there. He kissed her forehead, eyelids, the tip of her nose, as though marking her.

Overjoyed and finally relaxed, his exhaustion overtook him, and he crashed into sleep, arms locked around her.

When the Eldest Prince saw the Crown Prince rushing over, he nearly teased him for being late and lingering outside instead of checking on their father. But then he noticed the Third Prince following, unhurried. *If even Third Brother isn’t rushing... Could it be that His Majesty’s condition has improved?*

The thought inexplicably eased the Eldest Prince’s mind. *No more spinning his wheels over nothing.*

Otherwise, how could the Crown Prince have the mood to wander outside? He would’ve been groveling in front of the Emperor like a good little son ages ago. Tch.

The Emperor wouldn’t even see him, and even the First Prince had his outings restricted—but then he sent for the Crown Prince. In the Emperor’s heart, is *he* the only one who counts as a son?

When it was time to follow the Crown Prince to visit the Emperor, the First Prince had barely started bowing when he heard the Crown Prince greeting the Empress Dowager.

First Prince: ?!

Third Prince: !!

The First Prince instinctively looked up. Even after years apart, he recognized the woman sitting beside the Emperor at a glance.

She looked just like the late Empress Jingxi!

Could it be just a coincidence?

No way—*even her presence felt the same!*

Over the years, plenty of people had tried to find women who resembled Empress Jingxi and place them by the Emperor’s side, hoping to cash in on the resemblance for power or favor.

But every single one of those women ended up with their faces peeled off on the Emperor’s orders. The schemers behind them got their heads chopped off too for being so damn clever.

So from that point on, everyone knew—trying to mimic Empress Jingxi didn’t win you the Emperor’s favor. It pissed him off enough to kill.

So this must really be *her?!*

Seeing the First Prince’s face twist into shock, confusion, and existential crisis, Su Yi slowly curved her lips into the same sweet smile she used when dealing with a brat at midnight.

PTSD kicked in right then for the First Prince. Eyes wide, panic rising, he hurriedly ducked his head and greeted her. If the Crown Prince did it, copying him couldn’t be wrong. Normally, he’d never stoop to imitating the Crown Prince, but this time? Zero hesitation.

The Third Prince barely remembered her. At most, he’d seen her from across banquet halls long ago, and back then he was still a kid, so his memory was fuzzy. Watching his older brothers act like this left him frozen like a deer in headlights.

Luckily, he wasn’t dumb—he just copied them.

It took a moment to sink in. Who else could make the Crown Prince show respect and get the First Prince to bow so fast if not the “late” Empress Jingxi herself?

But wait—Empress Jingxi was supposed to be...

And now here she is...?!

Judging from the Emperor and Crown Prince’s reactions, the Third Prince wasn’t stupid enough to think this was some fake. No impostor would get that kinda respect. And definitely none of them ever looked *that* identical.

Still, he didn’t dare look too long and quickly dropped his gaze to greet her properly.

Thinking about the shitstorm once they got back to the capital—this was gonna be wild.

The ministers were floored.

Before the celebration over the Emperor’s recovery even started, boom—Empress Jingxi came back from the dead!?

Wait, no—turns out after the assassination attempt, the Empress was gravely injured, slipped into a coma, and never woke up. So the Emperor secretly moved her to Jiangnan to recover. To avoid disturbing her, he faked her death for a fresh start.

Now, she finally woke up because the Emperor himself nearly died. After years unconscious, she snapped awake and rushed to his side, which is why he recovered so fast.

Since the Empress is alive and well, naturally she has to come back and take her throne.

Great. A flood of insane news hit all at once, not giving a damn whether anyone could believe it. Back then, the Emperor went full psycho with grief, and now we’re supposed to buy that the Empress wasn’t dead—just on death’s door?

God damn it! You even held mourning rites!

If Empress Jingxi was truly convalescing in Jiangnan, why didn’t Your Majesty even visit there during your tours?!

No wonder the Emperor cared more about the imperial wedding than the mourning rites—we thought he’d lost his mind, but turns out, well, well, well, the joke’s on us!

How considerate of Your Majesty to even bother cooking up—no, explaining—an excuse for us.

Oh, and the Emperor believes the Changchun Garden is more suitable for the Empress’s recovery, so he’ll take up long-term residence there with her, only returning to the palace for grand state banquets.

Fine, fine. Back when the Changchun Garden was first completed, the Emperor said it wasn’t appropriate to open it during the national mourning. Even after the mourning period ended, he frequently went on tours instead of staying there for a few days—it was named but left unused. Now that the Empress’s recovery is a priority, it’s suddenly the permanent residence.

Alright then, as long as Your Majesty is happy.

After years of being constantly tormented by the Emperor, the ministers are no longer the naive officials they once were. Some colleagues have even cycled through several replacements, while those who remain are the craftiest veterans.

With all the waterworks and meltdowns, sometimes it’s hard to tell if their roles have been reversed.

As for Empress Jingxi’s return, though it’s been a mixed bag emotionally, they’ve accepted it quite well.

No other reason—an Emperor who’s not off his rocker returning to normalcy is more important than anything else.

The rest? Doesn’t matter. With the Empress here, Your Majesty better damn well behave!

God damn it, do you know what we’ve been through these past few years?!

Finally, this nightmare is coming to an end!