Fan Xun was stunned.
He never imagined that the humble Hu girl—now the newly titled County Princess Kanghua—could have such a change of fortune.
“Your Majesty, what about the young Khan…”
“Discuss it with Cen Ni and handle it as you see fit. Leave him breathing, and send him back to the Northern Di.”
“I obey Your Majesty’s command.”
Fan Xun’s mind raced—how exactly should they deal with Helian Tu? Pull out all his teeth with pliers?
He’d had it in for Helian Tu for a long time anyway.
After handling the sudden incident, it was nearly midnight.
The Emperor stroked the imperial seal, making a show of taking it back to his bedchamber: “I’m having that bearded brute carried back to his homeland on his back—are you happy now?”
Yun Yi, trapped in the tiny space, was hopping with frustration: “If you mess with the young Khan like that, aren’t you afraid the Northern Di will attack you?”
Her words couldn’t reach the Emperor’s ears—a conversation between a chicken and a duck, pointless no matter how anxious she got.
Yet between them, it was as if a thin thread connected them—a subtle tug would stir a faint resonance.
Xiao Zhi actually asked: “Are you worried the Northern Di might use this as an excuse to attack Great Yan?”
Yun Yi nodded frantically.
“The Hu girl you saved is from Kangluo,” his voice faded in the night wind, sounding both distant and near, “Kangluo and the Northern Di…”
Wang Delan stepped forward to escort the Emperor inside: “Your Majesty, shall I prepare brush and ink?”
The full moon hung in the clear sky, moonlight flooding the steps outside the hall, spilling radiance across the ground.
“Bring me a large calligraphy brush and a bucket of water.”
Xiao Zhi sat down on the steps. He placed the imperial seal on his knee and looked down at it: “If I’m not mistaken, on the fifteenth of every month, you turn into my imperial seal.”
His eyes were deep and focused.
The bright moon above seemed to have leaped into them, making her unable to resist drowning in his gaze.
The palace attendants brought several buckets of mountain spring water.
Xiao Zhi took hold of an enormous brush—as big as an ordinary mop.
Yun Yi had a cultural father who worked in archaeology, so she naturally knew that was a brush used for inscribing plaques.
Xiao Zhi lifted the brush with one hand, showing no sign of strain, while his other hand steadily held the imperial seal.
The guards and attendants retreated to the corners, melting into the shadows.
The square before the hall was utterly still, occasionally pierced by the calls of wild beasts from Fuyun Ridge.
“Kangluo borders the Northern Di.”
The large brush swept across the glazed bricks, damp marks seeping into the stone—as if a spell of revelation had been cast. A simple terrain map appeared on the moonlit terrace.
“The two foreign states have never been on good terms. The Khan of the Northern Di is warlike.”
Xiao Zhi drew a curved Hu blade in the Northern Di’s territory, its tip pointing downward, aimed straight at Great Yan.
“The Khan of Kangluo is about my age. He ascended the throne two years ago.” Xiao Zhi drew a horse on Kangluo’s territory.
“Hey, what’s that?” Yun Yi hated that she couldn’t move, unable to see clearly what Xiao Zhi was drawing.
The Emperor tossed the brush aside and used two fingers to pinch the little beast’s tail.
“That’s a horse,” the Emperor would not tolerate anyone questioning his artistic skills—not even his precious imperial seal. “Illiterate.”
“…”
“Kangluo has long suffered under the Northern Di’s oppression.” Xiao Zhi recounted the disputes between the two foreign states—largely conflicts over resources and cities. “For the past two years, the Kangluo Khan has been secretly training troops. Once he has a legitimate excuse, he can attack the Northern Di.”
Xiao Zhi then drew a ferocious large face at the border of Great Yan.
With just a few strokes, the figure beneath his brush sprouted wire-spring whiskers and a gaping mouth.
Yun Yi could see it clearly this time.
Helian Tu—he was the “excuse.”
Yun Yi, under the princess’s title, had saved the Hu girl. Xiao Zhi then ennobled the Kangluo Hu girl as County Princess Kanghua. And the young Khan of the Northern Di had deliberately injured this county princess—an act more than sufficient to ignite the Kangluo Khan’s fury.
War was at hand.
Xiao Zhi pointed the brush tip at that hideous, gaping mouth and asked: “How many teeth do you want Helian Tu to lose? I’ll have the Ministry of Justice carry it out according to your wishes.”
Yun Yi: Help! She wasn’t the Tooth Fairy, for crying out loud!
Xiao Zhi dragged the imperial seal along to soak in the hot springs.
That day, when she and the princess had been “completely open” with each other, even the two girls had only felt a moment of awkwardness.
Now, the Emperor before her had shed his dragon robe, wearing only a pure white silk nightgown. The hot spring soaked through the fabric, outlining his form.
The rich fragrance of flowers spread as palace attendants scattered petals into the pool.
Pink specks gathered around him. He picked one up and placed it upside down on the little beast’s head.
“Like wearing a little flower crown,” Xiao Zhi murmured.
His meridians eased with the heat, as if he had drunk the purest nectar—intoxicated before the wine even touched his lips.
He praised: “My imperial seal is truly adorable.”
“Alright, alright—adorable. Are you done bathing yet?” Yun Yi was nearly cooked alive.
Xiao Zhi tossed the imperial seal in his palm: “I haven’t washed you yet.”
The sound of splashing water came—Yun Yi looked down to see Xiao Zhi personally scrubbing the cinnabar ink off the seal’s base.
Before she could react, he dunked her into the hot spring.
“Feel good?” He actually had the nerve to ask!
Yun Yi, having swallowed several mouthfuls of water: “Glub glub…”
Xiao Zhi took the short brush handed to him by an attendant—its head made of horsehair. The meticulous Emperor didn’t miss a single crevice or fold.
“Mmm, there’s still dirt here—filthy.”
Yun Yi: “Ahh… hahaha… it tickles, tickles, tickles—” Help!
What kind of torture was this?!
In the four corners of the bedchamber, bronze lamps flickered dimly.
After all that fuss, the Emperor lay down in the dragon bed and fell asleep in an instant.
He placed Yun Yi by his pillow, a mere inch away—close enough for her to count his eyelashes.
Eyelash monster.
The bed curtains slowly closed, like a stage curtain falling, that round moon gradually vanishing beyond the drapes.
Silence surrounded them. The sound of light breathing by her ear, like a lullaby, lulled Yun Yi’s eyes shut as well.
Clouds thickened, veiling the moon.
Her hands and feet were cold. Unconsciously, she pushed aside the brocade quilt.
She shifted her body closer—there was something warm beside her, irresistible. She wrapped her arms around it for warmth.
Her nose itched. She brushed it away randomly, her fingers tangling with long hair.
Yun Yi forced her eyes open. It was pitch black, with faint light slipping through the bed curtains before being swallowed by the darkness.
Breathing sounds reached her ears.
Her heart jolted—the breathing sounded like the Emperor’s.
When had she returned to human form?
Could his guess have been right? On the night of the full moon, she turned into his imperial seal?
Was she a werewolf?
Yun Yi held her breath, listening to Xiao Zhi’s breathing—now heavy, now light.
Her fingers spread in the darkness, stealthily touching his nose. His hot breath seeped between her fingers, her knuckles gently closing around the warmth.
Something was wrong.
His breathing was unsteady—long, then short.
“Xiao Zhi,” she whispered close to his ear.
“…Mm?”
“Are you unwell?”
“No.” His voice was so hoarse it startled her.
He was this sick and still being stubborn.
Remembering his special status—any alarm would summon the assistant squad—Yun Yi pressed her palm to his forehead. “A cold? A fever? Did you bring the medicine I gave you last time? If not, let’s go back—”
Xiao Zhi pulled her hand away, cutting off her concern: “No need.”
He rarely spoke like this; right now, his voice carried an air of authority.
Putting on imperial airs, was he?
Yun Yi wasn’t pleased. She got up and went to the side chamber to sleep.
When Xiao Zhi woke, he immediately sensed something wrong.
Having practiced martial arts for years, his senses were sharp. The moment he opened his eyes, he felt a chaotic energy rampaging inside him.
Within a single breath, a thin layer of sweat broke out on his neck. He had no choice but to use his inner strength to suppress it.
That restless force was gradually being gathered and subdued—just on the verge of calming down.
But then, Yun Yi had materialized.
Within arm’s reach, her hand—soft beyond words—gently pressed against his forehead.
Xiao Zhi’s breath faltered. That chaotic energy he had just suppressed erupted, blasting through his meridians and surging straight toward one particular place.
Beneath his nightgown, a distinct shadow rose.
Thank goodness for the darkness—nature’s fig leaf.
As his thoughts churned, Xiao Zhi realized one thing: the hot spring was compromised.
The princess and Yun Yi had soaked in it the day before, and neither had been affected.
Though he had heard the princess was suffering from blood phobia and had been resting all day.
On the dragon bed, rustling sounds.
To the right was the wall; the only way out was blocked by an annoying roadblock. She had no choice but to crawl over the “tiger.”
She grabbed an imperial pillow.
“Where are you going?” Xiao Zhi reached out and caught the hem of her eunuch’s robe.
“Eunuchs belong in the side chamber to sleep. What, you won’t even part with one of your pillows?”
In the darkness, they couldn’t see each other’s faces. Xiao Zhi was baffled—what had he done to upset her?
“Cheapskate!”
Whack—the pillow came down.
It landed right on the bulging spot.
Xiao Zhi curled his knees: “Hiss…”
Pain mingled with a strange, sharp pleasure, every pore screaming.
Yun Yi steadied herself against the bedpost. Hearing the Emperor’s hoarse voice, her resolve softened: “Are you really sick? I’ll go get someone.”
“Don’t.” Xiao Zhi tugged at her robe, wanting to tell her the hot spring was compromised—someone had done this deliberately, hoping to witness the Emperor in a humiliating state.
His strong pull threw Yun Yi off balance. Her arms flailed twice before she crashed down onto the Emperor at a slant.
His nose brushed past her earlobe, hot breath spreading to the root of her ear.
She had to turn her head away, her cheek pressed completely against his.
“Mm…” The person beneath her seemed even more pained.
The earnest-hearted Yun Yi: “…” Stop moaning—you’re making me feel sympathetic pain.
That imperial pillow perfectly blocked the prominent bulge, hiding his embarrassing state and giving him a moment to breathe.
The side door of the bedchamber opened. A palace attendant entered—not Wang Delan’s voice: “Your Majesty?”
Yun Yi scrambled in panic toward the other direction, but an arm hooked across her back, forcing her into his chest.
“Don’t move.” If he didn’t hold her tight, she would become a seductive demon, draining his very soul.
The Emperor gave his order: “I am fine.”
The attendant seemed to be new, his words carrying extra concern.
“Your Majesty, the night wind is cold. The princess has caught a chill—Imperial Physician Zhou just finished taking her pulse. He is waiting outside the bedchamber for Your Majesty’s summons.”
“No need. Tell Imperial Physician Zhou to withdraw.”
Yun Yi thought to herself—that old Imperial Physician Zhou, still devotedly serving his master despite his age, was quite dedicated.
She felt like awarding him a banner: The God of Acupuncture from Ancient Greece.
“Your Majesty, but—”
“Where is Wang Delan?” The Emperor’s tone turned displeased.
The attendant knelt with a thud: “Eunuch Wang has also been struck by a sudden illness and is resting in the duty quarters. Your Majesty, this epidemic is fierce—please take care of your imperial health. Why not let Imperial Physician Zhou take your pulse?”
Imperial Physician Zhou was the Emperor’s trusted physician.
Xiao Zhi was in a rather sorry state right now. If Zhou had a way to expel this “poison,” it was worth a try.
“Summon him in.”
The bedchamber doors swung open.
The sound of Imperial Physician Zhou’s footsteps swelled in the darkness.
His stride was vigorous, sounding like that of a man in his prime.
He knelt with ease, his knees striking the fine brick floor with a crisp sound.
Imperial Physician Zhou’s voice was full of vigor: “This minister pays respects to Your Majesty. Please allow me to take your imperial pulse.”
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