Chapter 008 Eye-catching

He Ying left Youlan Pavilion and did not go to Yuesang Palace but to the martial arts field.

He rode his horse at full gallop and drew his bow to shoot arrows.

"Snap!"

"Snap!"

Each arrow hit the bullseye.

"The Emperor is mighty!"

"Long live the Emperor!"

Surrounding Imperial Army soldiers cheered and waved their arms.

Having heard this for a while, He Ying lost interest.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't an emperor who liked to hear flattery.

"Where is Rong Ye?"

He Ying dismounted and scanned the neatly arranged ranks of the Imperial Army.

Rong Ye immediately stepped forward: "At your service."

He had dark skin, a rough appearance, and was tall and robust, standing at nearly two meters tall by modern measurements.

Like a giant.

He Ying glanced at him, picked up a weapon from the side—a long sword adorned with dragon patterns on the tassels, his exclusive and frequently used weapon.

Since recapturing thirteen cities of Min State four years ago, he had rarely engaged in combat.

"Spar with me for a bit."

"Yes."

Rong Ye picked up a long spear and jumped onto the stage.

He Ying followed, gathering his energy to make a move.

He excelled in close combat, repeatedly appearing behind Rong Ye like a nimble cheetah, cleverly evading his long spear.

Rong Ye had infinite strength and excelled in prolonged combat; he had once fought at Mongyang Pass for three days, drenched in blood yet still energized.

"Bam!"

"Sizzle—"

Clashing sword and spear sparked a long chain of sparks.

The two fought for an hour with no clear victor.

"Enough."

He Ying tossed the sword back to its place and jumped down from the stage.

He was tired, slightly out of breath, his forehead slick with sweat.

Pei Muyang hurried forward with a moist handkerchief: "Emperor, please wipe your face—"

After He Ying wiped his face, he took the handkerchief and handed him some tea.

The tea was fragrant, light, and rippling.

He Ying glanced at it and waved his hand: "No more tea. I've been drinking it for three days straight, grown tired of it. Bring some liquor, strong liquor."

"Yes."

Pei Muyang, meticulous as ever, had also prepared liquor and immediately picked up a jar of strong liquor, poured two bowls, and brought them over.

He Ying awarded Rong Ye a bowl.

They clinked their cups and drank them down.

The strong liquor burned their throats.

But also ignited fierce ardor.

"It's been two years. It's time for some bloodshed in this world."

He Ying was belligerent by nature.

After conserving energy for four years, it was time to do something.

The Imperial Palace was too stifling.

Rong Ye understood the Emperor's ambition and immediately knelt down to express his loyalty: "I am willing to conquer lands for the Emperor and achieve everlasting greatness."

Seeing him kneel, other soldiers also knelt and echoed: "We are willing to conquer lands for the Emperor and achieve everlasting greatness."

Soldiers afraid of fighting were not good soldiers.

True men should fight on battlefields, spill blood, and carve out achievements.

He Ying returned satisfied.

He boarded his sedan chair and ordered to return to Qingning Palace.

Pei Muyang, puzzled yet trying to be agreeable, asked with a smile, "Emperor, the Heir's wife has come. Aren't you going to Yuesang Palace?"

He Ying frowned: "She has already returned home; she is no longer any Heir's wife."

The Heir's wife belonged to someone else.

Sang Yan was only free for the Emperor to pursue when she was unattached.

Realizing his mistake, Pei Muyang immediately slapped his own mouth and chuckled: "The Emperor is wise. It was this servant's mistake. That lady had returned home as Miss Sang."

Pleased, He Ying laughed and scolded: "Fool!"

Getting scolded, Pei Muyang smiled even broader as if rewarded: "It's this servant's foolishness. May I ask, why is the Emperor not visiting Yuesang Palace? Miss Sang must be eagerly waiting."

He, trying to align with the Emperor's heart, spoke against his conscience claiming Sang Yan was fond of the Emperor.

Chief Eunuch Yu Huai De was too honest, repeatedly advising the Emperor not to pursue Sang Yan, and suffered for it; Pei Muyang would not act so foolishly.

Although He Ying knew Sang Yan was like a timid rabbit and didn't fancy him, it didn't dampen his spirits.

"Why the hurry? There are others more anxious than us."

"…Yes."

Pei Muyang was intelligent; a quick thought revealed the Emperor's cunning plan—feigning favor towards Noble Princess Consort Lan to coerce Ruishui River into urging Sang Yan to enter the palace and compete for favor. Now that Sang Yan had entered the palace, she surely couldn't wait to push her toward the Emperor.

They triumphantly returned to Qingning Palace.

Indeed, at Qingning Palace stood Xiangxiu, a palace maid from Yuesang Palace.

"Emperor, my lady is severely ill and misses you deeply. She begs the Emperor to visit her."

Xiangxiu rushed forward in a few steps, kneeling before the sedan chair, tears streaming down her face like a pear blossom bathed in rain.

Sitting high in his sedan chair, He Ying looked down with a face of compassion: "Pitiful creature. Then let's go see her then."

Pei Muyang: "…"

The Emperor really was too "cunning."

Yuesang Palace

Sang Yan comforted Sang Ruoshui with a few words and was about to head back to the side hall.

Sang Ruoshui, sickly lying on the bed, grasped her sleeve and said in a hoarse voice, "Sister, haven't you forgiven me yet?"

Sang Yan, seeing her genuine misery, shook her head, "I am your sister. As long as you truly treat me as a sister, I will naturally treat you as my sister. It is ridiculous for sisters to become enemies over a man."

As she spoke, she pulled her hand away and explained, "I brought you a gift. Go get it."

Coincidentally, just as she was about to leave the palace, she saw the Emperor's sedan chair from afar.

Sigh.

It was time to kneel again.

"His Majesty has arrived——"

Pei Muyang's voice was shrill, deliberately drawn out.

Sang Yan could not pretend not to see and had to step forward and kneel to greet him, "This servant greets Your Majesty."

He Ying looked down at the delicate figure kneeling before him, still dressed in simple white mourning clothes, making her black hair shine brightly.

She didn't look up, her black hair cascading down, swaying lightly in the wind.

Her face wasn't visible.

He wasn't pleased.

He raised his hand, "Rise."

After Sang Yan thanked him, she stood up, somewhat eager to slip away, when she saw the Emperor getting down from the sedan chair, heading straight towards her.

Her heart inexplicably raced, and she hurriedly stepped aside to make way for him.

"I heard Princess Consort Sang is sick. Since you are here, come with me to see her," he said as he passed by her.

His breath was moist and cold.

His hair still damp.

He must have come after bathing.

Sang Yan didn't think much of it, only regretting that she couldn't slip away, and responded with a "Yes," following behind him.

Intentionally lagging a few steps.

He seemed to sense it, turned around to look at her, his steps halting as if waiting for her.

Under his gaze, Sang Yan felt immense pressure, heart lamenting, but smiled bitterly and quickened her pace.

"Three steps will do."

He measured the distance between them, offering a reminder.

Hearing this, Sang Yan immediately thought of his aversion to women and came up with an idea to lower her favorability, "I am clumsy and rash, if by accident—"

As she spoke, she deliberately reached out to touch his sleeve.

He Ying did not dodge, gazed down at her eyes, and slowly smiled, "The last woman who made me sick, I ordered to be beaten with a stick for two hours, beaten into a pulp, yet still gasping for breath. Would you like to experience that?"

Sang Yan: "…"

No.

Was the Emperor trying to scare her?

She was frightened, decisively withdrew her hand, even placing it behind her back.

At the same time, she understood: she had thought too highly of herself. He Ying, the mighty Emperor, what beauty hadn't he seen? Especially since he couldn't be near women, even if he wanted to do something, he couldn't. Thus, the significance of beauty was diminished, and to him, she served merely as a novelty.

Realizing this, she felt incredibly relieved.

She grew bolder: "Your Majesty is the True Dragon Emperor. Your presence to visit Princess Consort Sang, with your Dragon Energy protecting her, will surely chase away the illness swiftly."

See, she was just good at flattering.

No different from anyone else.

But she forgot, the Emperor was a madman.

"Miss Sang is quite eloquent, then speak a bit more,"

He looked at her, his smile playful.

Wait, what was Miss Sang?

Shouldn't she be the Heir's wife?

Sigh.

The Emperor truly was a madman.

Sang Yan, under his dangerous gaze, lowered her head, feeling it safer to keep her mouth shut.

He Ying, holding back a laugh, thought to himself: Timid rabbit.

Then he turned and continued into the palace.

Inside the palace

Palace maids and eunuchs knelt on both sides, shouting in unison, "We greet Your Majesty—"

He ignored them and walked straight ahead, sitting in the main seat, asking coldly, "How did Princess Consort Sang get sick? How have you been taking care of her?"

There was an accusing tone in his voice.

Hearing this, the palace maids and eunuchs showed terrified expressions, trembling as they kowtowed, "Your Majesty, forgive us."

The atmosphere in the palace turned heavy and oppressive.

"It's not their fault. I am weak,"

Sang Ruoshui, with Xiangxiu's assistance, weakly rose from the bed, her voice hoarse and feeble.

Frail and pitiful.

He Ying, upon seeing her, felt no emotion, waved his hand indifferently, "You are weak, there's no need to come over, just lie down."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Sang Ruoshui thanked him but didn't lie back down, instead continuing forward, "I've been lying down for so long, I'm tired of it. It's rare for Your Majesty to visit, I would like to sit and talk with you."

She wanted to see him.

After many days apart, the longing was overwhelming.

Her longing gnawed at her bones, and tears fell again.

He Ying, seeing her cry, felt no compassion, only annoyance, "You are sick, just rest well. I don't need you to keep me company."

He generally didn't like talking to women.

Except for one.

He looked towards Sang Yan, whom the simple white mourning clothes once stunned him, but now seemed unbearable, "I heard you have returned home, so no need to wear mourning—"

At that, he turned to Pei Muyang, issuing an order, "Go have the Clothing Bureau make clothes for Miss Sang."