For the past few days, Ning Wanwan had been weeping incessantly. A relentless, stinging pain gripped her heart, as if thousands of ants were gnawing at her soul. It was not that she wanted to cry, but the lingering consciousness of the original owner was compelling her. Ning Wanwan could only try to soothe her with gentle, coaxing words.
"Sister, please, stop crying. You’ll go blind if you keep this up," she whispered. "Honestly, it’s just not worth it. Emperors have no true heart—why do you bother? If not for yourself, at least consider the family that stands behind you."
In Ning Wanwan’s view, the bigger picture was far more important than any romantic entanglement. She had never been in love and could not fathom the obsession; she only knew that one's own well-being was paramount. Any woman who lost her sense of self for the sake of romance was, to her, a monumental fool.
The palace maids, believing she had gone mad after falling into the water—muttering to herself as she did—felt a secret thrill of pleasure. They had long suffered under her temper, and now, seeing her state, they felt vindicated.
Gradually, whether it was the effectiveness of her own words or something else, the tears finally ceased.
Just then, a sharp, shrill voice rang out: "His Majesty arrives!"
An elegant figure clad in black robes adorned with python patterns entered the room. Ning Wanwan raised her wet, beautiful eyes to look. The man possessed an incomparably handsome face, his peach-blossom eyes shining with intensity.
"My beloved consort, are you not happy to see me?"
Seeing Ning Wanwan staring blankly, the man’s lips curved into a smile. He reached out with long, slender fingers to gently brush her cheek.
The cold touch of his skin snapped Ning Wanwan back to reality. She hurriedly scrambled to mimic the etiquette she had seen Beauty Chan perform.
The man let out a soft chuckle and gently lifted her up, guiding her to a seat nearby.
"I have been occupied with state affairs these past few days and only now have time to see you. You aren't angry with me, are you?" He held Ning Wanwan’s hand, massaging it lightly, his eyes filled with doting affection.
Ning Wanwan lowered her gaze, not daring to meet his eyes. So this was the current Emperor. He was truly breathtaking, possessing a beauty more bewitching than any woman, yet his black robes carried the invisible weight of imperial authority, making it impossible to stare at him for long.
It was no wonder the original owner had been so lovestruck. Childhood sweethearts combined with the aura of an exquisite Emperor—if it were her, she might have fallen just as hopelessly. Perhaps she had been too shallow and spoken too soon.
Pei Jinxiu had just suggested they share a meal when a messenger arrived from Jixiang Palace, claiming that the lady there was feeling unwell.
Before he could speak, Ning Wanwan interjected, "Your Majesty, please go. I am perfectly fine here."
Such coquettish, manipulative language was something the original owner would never have grasped. In her world, she and Pei Jinxiu were childhood sweethearts, a couple since youth. Even though she was not the Empress, she believed he loved her; with the position of Empress vacant, she held the highest rank, and they were, for all intents and purposes, husband and wife.
Predictably, as soon as Pei Jinxiu heard this, his face darkened. He commanded coldly toward the door, "If she is unwell, have the imperial physician see her. I am no healer."
Ning Wanwan was stunned; her thick lashes fluttered as she peeked up at him, trembling slightly.
"Furthermore, because Beauty Chan relied on my favor to collide with the Imperial Noble Consort, she is to be punished. Let her face the wall and reflect on her sins. No one is permitted to disturb her."
Outside, the servants knelt on the ground, not daring to make a sound as they scurried away to deliver the message.
When the midday meal was served, the man insisted on feeding her himself. Ning Wanwan’s heart pounded like a drum, unsure if it was her own emotion or the residue of the original owner’s feelings.
To outsiders, the sight of the supreme ruler acting with such tenderness toward his Imperial Noble Consort was a display of deep affection—a matchless honor that others could only envy. Even Ning Wanwan felt a moment of bewilderment.
Imagine it: an Emperor acting with the tenderness of a common husband, even punishing a pregnant Beauty Chan simply because she had offended her. Who wouldn't be swayed by such a display?
In the aftermath, a steady stream of rewards poured into Ruyi Palace. To make amends for her suffering, he even elevated her rank from a simple consort to Imperial Noble Consort, a position equal to that of a deputy Empress. For a time, her prestige was unmatched.