The village chief was stubborn in words but soft at heart. He led the archaeology team’s researchers into the ancestral hall.
He unlocked the fingerprint lock and iris scanner.
The inner room of the Xiao Family Village ancestral hall was a hidden world of its own.
He pressed a switch, and a glass case descended slowly.
Inside was a portrait.
A crimson steed, a man in armor, imposing without anger, silently gazing at everyone present.
The archaeology team held their breath: It looked like it—too much like it. Identical to the unearthed emperor portrait!
Yun Yi clenched her fingers, staring at the portrait without blinking.
Her gaze slid from the figure’s brows and eyes down to his neck.
A figure flashed before her eyes—Yun Guoqiang blocked Yun Yi’s view, staring obsessively at the painting.
He was more excited than anyone present.
The person in the painting not only matched the unearthed emperor portrait—he was identical to the young man he had met.
He bowed slightly, his gaze gradually shifting to one spot.
A colleague read it aloud before him: “Great Yan… Emperor Xiao Zhi?”
Yun Guoqiang was stunned.
Her eccentric male friend was also named Xiao Zhi.
Yun Guoqiang pressed both hands against the glass, wishing he could stick his eyes to the portrait: “The Xiao Family Village ancestor is an emperor?”
The village chief was quite proud: “Our Xiao clan is of royal bloodline. My great-grandfather’s great-grandfather’s great-grandfather…”
“Is Xiao Zhi, that stinking brat?!” Yun Guoqiang blurted out.
“Dad…” Yun Yi yanked his sleeve.
Too late.
The village chief’s eyes went wide: “You surnamed Yun! You dare show disrespect to our ancestor!”
Thinking of the ancestral tablet enshrining Xiao Zhi in the hall, Yun Guoqiang calmed down: “Village chief, you say this is the Xiao clan ancestor—is there a genealogy to prove it?”
“You don’t believe me?!”
The genealogy was properly stored in the back room of the ancestral hall. The village chief ordered people to place the volumes on the table one by one.
[The second son of Duke Mengfu was adopted as heir]
[Duke Li Zhen had one son, A Qi, whose whereabouts are unknown]
[The third uncle had two sons, both unsuccessful]
[…]
Yellowed pages, densely recording the fates of the Xiao clan members.
Yun Guoqiang read and snorted: “Favoring boys over girls—only recording sons. Daughters are the most precious.”
“That’s how it was before,” the village chief added. “The genealogy’s been improved now. Daughters are all recorded too.”
Yun Yi pointed at one entry: “Uncle village chief, this third uncle who had two sons—’unsuccessful’—what does that mean?”
The village chief rubbed his hands: “Accomplished nothing. A street thug.”
Yun Yi was speechless, feeling vaguely insulted.
The tracing results showed that the Xiao Family Village ancestors really were the ones enshrined on the tablets.
The village chief was overjoyed and immediately called the convalescing Elder Xiao to report the portrait unearthed at the site.
“Elder Xiao, I got first-hand internal news from the archaeology team! Emperor Ridge has our ancestor’s hot spring retreat palace!”
On the other end, Elder Xiao’s dying voice gained vigor: “Truly?”
“Absolutely true! What do you think…?” The village chief sought Elder Xiao’s instructions.
Elder Xiao, already abroad, removed his oxygen mask: “I want to return to the country… I want to go into the village…”
“…”
Chaos.
Everything was chaos.
Yun Yi came to the front hall of the ancestral hall, wanting to offer incense at Xiao Zhi’s tablet.
It had been 12 days since she transmigrated back to the modern era. Converted to Yan dynasty time, was that a full year?
Strangely enough, the fine incense in her hands refused to light no matter what.
The village chief helped her light three sticks. Yun Yi kowtowed to Xiao Zhi’s tablet and waited until the incense burned out—but nothing supernatural happened.
Seeing her devotion, the village chief invited her: “Miss, come join our village’s ancestor worship ceremony next year.”
Next year.
One modern year was thirty ancient years.
Yun Yi calculated swiftly—by next year, Xiao Zhi in Yan would be an old man.
Ancient people had short lifespans. Whether he’d even be alive next year was unknown.
She didn’t dare think deeper—sorrow welled up in her heart.
The village chief: “Hey, Xiao Yun, why are you crying?”
The young lady gazed at his great-grandfather’s great-grandfather’s great-grandfather’s… great-grandfather’s tablet, silently shedding tears.
The village chief thought: Young people nowadays have such strong empathy. Daughters really are the thoughtful ones.
.
Yun Yi recorded a pile of Xiao Family Village observations in Daoist Xiao’s ledger, then hugged the ledger and drifted into a dazed sleep.
When she woke, she heard birds chirping in the morning light.
Nothing had happened.
Her pious kneeling hadn’t taken her back to Yan.
Actually, she just wanted to talk to Xiao Zhi again—even just to say goodbye.
The first to notice something was off with Yun Yi were her fans.
[Has no one noticed the streamer has entered a flow state? IELTS 8.5 is not a dream!]
[Studying from 6 AM to 6 PM! A whole day without eating!]
[Overstudying? Take a break.]
Yun Yi turned off her streaming equipment and opened the wardrobe. Xiao Zhi’s dragon robe hung there, all alone.
“I can’t return your clothes to you.”
In that case.
Her eyelashes trembled. She pretended to be fierce: “Should I sell your clothes? You can’t come anyway.”
As if possessed, she held the dragon robe up against herself, then slipped it on.
Her reflection in the mirror—the overly wide shoulders drooping limply to her upper arms, the hem dragging on the floor. She looked like a shorty who had stolen her boyfriend’s clothes.
Thinking of how majestic Xiao Zhi looked in the dragon robe, Yun Yi suddenly flung out her sleeve and shamelessly mimicked his lines: “I shall issue a decree! Execute the traitor Xiao Zhi and his entire clan nine times over!”
She spun abruptly, the robe sleeves rolling like storm-tossed clouds.
One second shattered into countless frames, switching like camera cuts. When she looked up again, rustling wind mixed with rumbling vibrations pressed into her ears, the sound waves growing stronger and stronger.
She was actually standing atop a city wall.
Everything felt like a dream.
The distant mountains held the last of the sunset glow.
A hundred meters away was the main gate tower. The light outlined a crisp, upright silhouette.
“The Northern Di, taking advantage of Kangju’s defeat, dare to invade our Yan territory. Today I personally come to this place. All soldiers, hear my command—those who cross the border shall be killed without mercy.”
“We will follow Your Majesty, swearing to defend the nation unto death!”
“Kill! Kill! Kill!”
Instantly, beacon fires ignited, one every few meters, like golden stitches embroidered on a dragon robe.
The unbroken line of fire stretched forward, pointing straight to the center of the gate tower.
Armor reflected the blood-red firelight, exactly like the valiant emperor in the portrait.
Below the gate tower were Yan’s thousands upon thousands of troops.
Hoofbeats, weapons striking the ground.
The white breath of soldiers as they swore their oath, their flushed faces, the bulging veins in their necks…
The scene was breathtakingly stunning.
Yun Yi tactically retreated a step, hiding behind the wall’s edge to peek for a moment.
“Your Majesty,” General Cui Min stood below the gate tower, “this general has found a spy—it was he who leaked information…”
Yun Yi looked toward the voice.
A man was bound tightly, suspended against the wall.
Torches were close at hand, sizzling and crackling. The smell of burning flesh spread through the air.
“Execute immediately.” The Emperor said calmly.
A guard drew his long sword. Shing—the blade’s energy surged into the air, slashing toward the spy’s head.
Blood splattered everywhere.
The dark head traced a long arc through the air, flying straight toward Yun Yi.
The man at the center of the gate tower turned sideways. His gaze passed over that horrifying head.
There seemed to be a shifting shadow there.
The guards immediately surrounded the Emperor.
The Emperor’s heart stirred. A year without seeing her—that figure often appeared in his dreams, stumbling and swaying, as if she had walked out of his dreams.
“Your Majesty.” The imperial guard commander couldn’t believe his eyes. “That seems to be… Little Chair.”
“Mm.”
It was her.
Xiao Zhi strode toward Yun Yi.
She was draped in the black dragon robe, a ferocious severed head at her feet, so frightened she hopped in place, not daring to walk toward him.
Fool.
Yun Yi was scared witless.
That freshly severed head—its tongue lolling at the corner of its mouth, fresh blood spreading across the ground.
Xiao Zhi ran toward her.
Dozens of jin of armor weighed on him—he was like a moving terracotta warrior.
Yun Yi laughed and cried at once, snot and tears smearing across her face. She grabbed the dragon robe’s sleeve and wiped her face haphazardly.
When she lifted the sleeve again, that dead brother’s eyes—more white than black—glared at her like a vengeful ghost demanding her life.
By pure instinct, she kicked the head flying.
She couldn’t hold back another second. Yun Yi bolted toward Xiao Zhi like a rabbit.
“Wuuu—” Her crying burst forth like a flood.
Her sobs lasted barely a breath before cutting off abruptly.
Xiao Zhi watched helplessly as she stepped on the robe’s hem, her running posture deforming, and smack—she tripped and hit the ground.
The imperial guard commander, who had rushed forward, wanted to help her up but didn’t dare.
A year without seeing her, and this girl appeared here like an immortal, wrapped in the dragon robe.
That alone was enough to execute her entire clan nine times over.
Xiao Zhi looked down at the flattened pancake on the ground.
“Did the fall hurt?” He bent down, wanting to help her up, but saw her head buried in her sleeves, motionless. He feared she had broken something.
“No.” Yun Yi’s voice was muffled.
His hand reached to her head. Her ponytail was tied with a round, plump qilin hair tie—like the chubby-faced beast on the imperial seal.
“Then why not get up?” Xiao Zhi was puzzled. She wasn’t one for formalities—had a year apart made her distant?
“Do I have to say ‘rise’ before you’ll get up?”
“…” What was with the imperial airs?
Yun Yi shifted her arm and peeked through the gap in the robe’s sleeve. Her gaze lifted slightly, landing on the guards behind Xiao Zhi who were trying not to laugh.
“So embarrassing,” she said.
Everyone was laughing at her.
“All of you, withdraw.”
The Emperor cleared the area.
Below the city, the thousands of assembled troops had no idea why the Emperor had suddenly left the gate tower—what urgent business he was attending to.
A waning moon hung alone in the sky.
By the faint white moonlight, Xiao Zhi crouched beside her: “Didn’t I send you home? This place is nothing like the palace… war is about to break out.”
Yun Yi felt melancholy. She couldn’t be a eunuch anymore—so how was she supposed to stay by Xiao Zhi’s side?
She scrambled up, stood at attention before Xiao Zhi, and saluted.
“Sir, taking recruits? I’m your soldier.”
“Pfft.” Xiao Zhi let out a short laugh, then bent his finger and tapped the back of her head. “A year apart and you’ve gotten cheekier.”
The long year—that breath stuck in his chest that had never dispersed—suddenly dissipated.
Seeing him no longer stern, Yun Yi studied him too. In one year, this young emperor had completed some kind of transformation. His brows carried much more severity.
She caught his laughter and pretended to rub her own head: “Haven’t you changed too? Your hands are heavy—my head isn’t a wooden fish.”
Xiao Zhi clenched his hand. Had days of drilling troops made him lose his sense of force?
He cupped Yun Yi’s head with both hands, measuring its size, and answered lightly: “A big melon.”
“You…”
But the Emperor was seized by playfulness. He pretended to knock on the melon—thunk thunk—and said with satisfaction: “Ripe. Guaranteed sweet—”
The tail of his voice melted into the cold night wind. Yun Yi’s ears grew hot.
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