Chapter 1

“The entire empire belongs to me. No one has a greater fortune than I do. Do you want to become my empress?” Those words echoed in Fan Changning’s ears once again. Looking at the seven-year-old Qi Yu, she could hardly believe that she had been reborn, just like the stories Aunt Qianqian used to tell her. When she received no answer, Qi Yu put down the pastry in his hand and moved a little closer. He cautiously asked, “Changning, are you willing to become my empress?” Looking at the seven-year-old Qi Yu, Fan Changning’s thoughts drifted back to her previous life. ............ In her previous life, she had agreed to marry Yu Bao’er and become his empress. Fifteen years later, one day, the candlelight flickered inside Jian’an Hall, casting the long shadows of two figures across the floor. Fan Changning wore mourning clothes. Her eyes were still swollen and red as she glared at the man sitting behind the imperial desk, dressed in a black dragon robe. She clutched an urgent report that had just arrived from outside the palace. Her knuckles had turned white from gripping it so tightly. “Yu Bao’er.” Her voice was hoarse, as though it had been scraped raw. “She is my elder sister.” Qi Yu put down his vermilion brush and raised his head. Fifteen years had passed. The frail child from back then had grown into a young emperor with sharp, cold features. Only his eyes, when illuminated by the candlelight, still faintly resembled the boy he once was. “I am Qi Yu, not Yu Bao’er.” His voice was calm, with a hint of impatience. “Empress, you are overstepping your boundaries.” “Overstepping my boundaries?” Fan Changning threw the urgent report onto the floor. “My brother-in-law, Xie Zheng, is dead, and my elder sister has gone mad! And you call this overstepping my boundaries?” The report hit the floor with a sharp sound, like a slap echoing through the silent hall. Qi Yu glanced at the report before slowly looking away. He did not bother to pick it up. Instead, he slightly raised his chin. “Marquis of Wuan, Xie Zheng, accidentally fell into the river and drowned while inspecting the naval camp. I have already ordered people to search for his body and handle the aftermath.” “General-in-Chief of Huaihua was overcome with grief, so I have also sent imperial physicians to attend to her. If this is all you came here for—” “Accident?” Fan Changning interrupted, her voice suddenly rising. “Qi Yu, look at me.” She had directly called the emperor by his name. The palace servants standing nearby immediately lowered their heads, wishing they could cover their ears. Qi Yu frowned slightly and waved his hand. The servants hurriedly withdrew as if they had been granted a pardon. The palace doors closed heavily behind them. “Look into my eyes and tell me,” Fan Changning said, walking toward the imperial desk one step at a time. “How exactly did Xie Zheng die?” Qi Yu stood up and met her gaze. He was much taller than he had been fifteen years ago. Fan Changning had to raise her head to see his expression clearly. There was no guilt on his young face, only the anger of someone who felt insulted. “Marquis Wuan accidentally fell into the river while inspecting the naval camp and drowned.” He spoke each word clearly. “I have already granted him sufficient honors in death.” “Sufficient?” Fan Changning almost laughed. “Qi Yu, have you forgotten who once shot an arrow through an enemy’s neck to save your life?” “Who carried you out of that rundown courtyard, put you on horseback, fought their way through the enemy lines, and helped you claim that throne?” Every word was like a knife, cutting open the memories of fifteen years ago. The corner of Qi Yu’s mouth twitched slightly. He had not forgotten. Back then, he was only a little over six years old. His biological father, Qi Min, was hunting him down, and Zhao Xun was the only one left by his side. At the critical moment, he blew the whistle Changning had given him. Just as he was about to die by the assassin’s blade, Xie Zheng shot an arrow through the man's neck. Then Xie Zheng lifted him onto his horse and asked, “Yu Bao’er, what are you doing here?” That broad back had been as solid as a mountain. As the horse galloped, he desperately clung to Xie Zheng’s armor, smelling blood and dust. With tears in his eyes, he cried, “Uncle Yan!” Later, Xie Zheng was the first to kneel before him, the first to call him “Long Live,” and the first to pledge his loyalty. He had not forgotten any of it. However, what an emperor remembered was different from what an ordinary person remembered. “I haven't forgotten.” Qi Yu’s voice lowered, but it was as cold as the ice of midwinter. “I remember very clearly. I remember how much military power he held. I remember how one command from him in the army carried more weight than ten orders from me. I remember that he helped me ascend the throne—and that he could just as easily help someone else take it.” Fan Changning’s pupils shrank. “The military power held by your elder sister and brother-in-law,” Qi Yu said, walking around the imperial desk and slowly approaching her, “is like a blade hanging over my head. Changning, I cannot sleep peacefully.” He stopped in front of her and reached out to touch her face, but she immediately slapped his hand away. “So you killed them?” “I did not kill Xie Zheng.” Qi Yu withdrew his hand and placed it behind his back. “I merely... removed the blade. If the blade broke on its own, that is not my fault.” Fan Changning stared at him in disbelief. They had been childhood sweethearts for fifteen years. She had thought she understood this man. The little boy who used to run after her, calling, “Little Sister Changning!” The young man who had clumsily lifted her wedding veil on their wedding night. The husband who had stayed up all night with red eyes when her asthma flared up. The man standing before her now was a complete stranger—a cold-hearted emperor. “I love you,” Qi Yu suddenly said, his voice softening as though he were comforting a child throwing a tantrum. “Changning, I did all this to secure our son’s future.” Fan Changning felt as though she had been burned. “Qi Nianning is only five years old!” “That is why I must act early.” Qi Yu’s gaze passed over her and settled on the dark night sky outside the hall. “If the Marquis of Wuan and the General-in-Chief of Huaihua remain in power, our son will become nothing more than a puppet of the Xie family when he ascends the throne.” “I don't want my son to become another Qi Sheng.” Fan Changning trembled all over. “You're insane,” she said, each word filled with anger. “My elder sister and brother-in-law have never harbored any rebellious intentions.” “They were the ones who placed the sword in your hands and helped you secure this throne. And now you're saying the sword is too sharp, so you have to break it?” “The sword itself has no rebellious intentions, but what about the person holding it?” Qi Yu retorted, his voice suddenly turning sharp. “Xie Zheng commands eighty thousand former Xie family soldiers, while Fan Changyu controls half of the military forces in the northwest.” “I sit inside the palace reviewing memorials while they issue commands in the military camps. Changning, tell me, can I truly sit securely on this throne?” “So you let one of them die and the other go mad?” Tears finally streamed down Fan Changning’s face. “Qi Yu, my elder sister has gone mad! I heard she can no longer recognize Yunhe and Xingchuan! All she does is cling to her husband's old armor and call out ‘Yan Zheng’!” The despair in her voice made Qi Yu’s eyes flicker for a moment. But he quickly looked away. “I will make sure she is treated well,” he said. “The Empress Dowager will also look after her. If you are worried, I can bring her into the palace—” “Bring her into the palace?” Fan Changning sneered. “For what? So you can put her under house arrest and use her as a hostage?” Qi Yu abruptly turned his head, anger rising in his eyes. “Fan Changning, that's enough!” “No, it isn't.” She met his gaze without backing down. “Yu Bao’er, do you even remember your own name? Your name is Bao’er. It was the name your mother gave you.” “Back then, you hid behind me and said, ‘Little Sister Changning, I'm scared.’” “And now you're telling me that the person you fear isn't an assassin or poisoned wine, but the very man who carried you on his back and fought his way through the enemy lines?” The hall fell into complete silence. Qi Yu’s breathing grew heavier. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, but he said nothing. Fan Changning looked at him as tears silently rolled down her cheeks, one after another, falling onto her mourning clothes and leaving dark stains. She did not wipe them away. She simply let the tears flow freely down her face. “Qi Yu, do you know what my elder sister looks like now?” Her voice suddenly softened, almost as if she were talking to herself. “Her hair turned completely white overnight.” Qi Yu’s fingers tightened slightly. “Every strand of her once-black hair turned white in a single night.” Fan Changning’s gaze grew distant, as though she could see what was happening thousands of miles away, beyond the palace walls. “The imperial physicians said it was caused by extreme grief, which disrupted the flow of her blood and qi.” “What kind of person is my elder sister? She is the commander of the Northwestern Cavalry. She is someone who never even blinks when fighting enemies on the battlefield.” “The night the news of my brother-in-law’s death arrived, she sat in the courtyard, counting her white hairs one by one.” “The next morning, when Congyun brought her breakfast, he found her sitting in front of the bronze mirror. All her once-black hair had turned white.” Fan Changning’s voice trembled. “She took out the sword her husband had given her and began sharpening it day and night. From morning until evening, and from evening until morning.” “The tip of the sword wore away.” “The blade became chipped and blunt.” “But she kept sharpening it.” Uncle Yuanbao knelt before her, crying and begging her to stop, but she acted as though she couldn't hear him. Uncle Xie Wu snatched the sword away from her. She simply sat there, staring blankly into space. After a while, she began searching for the sword again. Once she found it, she continued sharpening it. Fan Changning closed her eyes. Tears slid down her cheeks, passed her chin, and fell to the floor. “Sometimes, she would hold the wrist guard her husband had given her and stand by the doorway for an entire day.” “She would stare at the road outside, constantly repeating the same words...” Her voice became completely hoarse, as though something had lodged in her throat. After a long while, she finally managed to utter those words, so softly that they sounded like smoke about to disappear. “Yan Zheng, why haven't you come home for dinner yet?” The hall was so quiet that even the faint crackling of the candlewick could be heard. Qi Yu stood motionless, his expression as though someone had carved a knife into his heart. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, no words came out. Fan Changning opened her eyes and looked at him. “Uncle Yuanbao knelt on the ground and begged her to eat, but she refused.” “Uncle Xie Wu, a grown man, knelt before her and cried like a child, but she ignored him. Do you know how she finally agreed to eat?” Qi Yu did not ask, but he kept looking at her. “It was Mother who went to see her,” Fan Changning said. “Mother walked up to her, slapped her across the face, then picked up a bowl and fed her herself.” “She simply ate one mouthful at a time. Her tears fell into the bowl, mixing with the porridge as she swallowed it.” “After finishing her meal, she took her husband's wrist guard and went back to the doorway to wait.” “To wait for someone who would never come home again.” Fan Changning’s voice suddenly sharpened, like a needle piercing something. “Qi Yu, is this what you call ‘sufficient honors in death’?” “Is this the result of your so-called ‘making sure she is treated well’?” “She isn't simply grieving. She is broken! Do you understand what it means for someone to be broken? It's not like breaking a porcelain vase that can still be glued back together. Her entire being, from the inside out, from her bones to her soul, has been shattered into dust. One gust of wind, and nothing will remain.” Every word she spoke was like a piece of red-hot iron branding Qi Yu’s heart. His face turned pale. It was not the dark expression of an emperor consumed by rage, but the pallor of someone whose carefully maintained disguise had been stripped away. He staggered half a step backward, his back hitting the edge of the imperial desk with a dull thud. “I...” He opened his mouth, his voice rough like a rusted blade. “I didn't know.” Fan Changning looked at him and suddenly laughed. Her smile was even more painful to look at than her tears. “You didn't know?” she repeated softly. “You didn't know my elder sister would go mad? You didn't know that she wouldn't be able to go on living after Xie Zheng's death? You didn't know—” She paused, and the last trace of warmth in her eyes disappeared. “You did know from the very beginning. You simply didn't care.” Those words were softer than all her previous accusations, yet they pierced Qi Yu's chest more accurately than an arrow. His breathing quickened, and his chest heaved violently, as though someone were choking him. “Changning—” “Don't call me that.” Fan Changning interrupted him. Her voice was frighteningly calm. “Yu Bao’er, listen carefully.” She spoke each word slowly, as though forcing them out through clenched teeth. “Xie Zheng is dead, and my elder sister has gone mad. From now on, there is no one left in this world who will protect you the way they did.” “The day you secured your position on that throne, it was Xie Zheng who knelt before you and called you ‘Long Live.’” “All those years you slept peacefully at night, it was my elder sister and her Northwestern Cavalry who guarded your borders.” “And now, you have destroyed them with your own hands.” “You will regret this.” “You definitely will.” After saying those words, she seemed to lose all her strength. Her shoulders slowly slumped. But she did not fall. She stood there like a withered branch bent by the wind, yet refusing to break. Qi Yu stared at her, his emotions surging like a raging tide. Anger, guilt, pain, and fear—all of them tangled together before finally turning into a near-mad fury born of humiliation. “I will regret it?” His voice came from deep within his chest, low and trembling. “My greatest regret is becoming emperor only to have people say that I owe my throne to Xie Zheng!” He suddenly swung his arm, sweeping the teacup off the imperial desk. It crashed to the floor, sending broken porcelain flying in every direction. “I am the Son of Heaven! I am the ruler of this entire empire! I don't need anyone to protect me!” His roar echoed throughout the spacious hall, making the candle flames flicker violently. Fan Changning remained motionless. Pieces of broken porcelain scattered against the hem of her skirt, but she did not even look down. She simply stared at Qi Yu. There was pity, sorrow, and the calmness of someone who had been thoroughly disappointed in him. But there was no fear. Qi Yu felt uneasy under her gaze, as though all his armor had been stripped away and he was standing completely exposed before her. “Guards!” He suddenly turned around and shouted hoarsely. “The Empress has behaved improperly and shown disrespect in My presence. Immediately escort her back to Changning Palace—” He paused and took a deep breath, as though trying to suppress something. “She is forbidden from leaving the palace without My permission.” Fan Changning did not struggle or cry out. She simply gave him one last look before turning around and walking slowly toward the palace doors. The hem of her white mourning dress dragged across the broken porcelain on the floor, making a faint scraping sound. Her back remained straight. Her steps were slow but firm, like someone walking toward a desolate, isolated island. The palace doors closed behind her. Qi Yu stood motionless where he was. Scattered across the floor were the broken pieces of the teacup and the urgent report that had been unfolded, smoothed out, and crumpled again.