12
Tô Chi didn’t go far. She turned alone into a pitch-dark alley.
I leaned against the wall and listened as the system recounted our past with Lục Yến to her.
She silently shed tears, her voice softening:
“So Lục Yến had such a hard childhood. No wonder he’s so grateful to his first love. But gratitude isn’t love.”
“He’s just too lonely and too afraid of getting hurt, so he pushes people away.”
“Don’t be sad, Host. The male lead just hasn’t realized he’s fallen for you yet. Later, he’ll suffer as he chases after his wife.”
The system’s usually cold, electronic voice held a rare hint of tenderness.
It hovered in midair, glowing faintly, as if running some kind of process.
“According to the plot, the male lead is being assassinated. Host, please go save him, or he’ll be badly injured.”
Tô Chi was completely panicked now. She didn’t even have time to wipe away her tears before following the system’s directions.
I stayed where I was and jotted down everything I’d heard tonight in my notebook.
They had planned to frame Lục Yến.
And it seemed… Tô Chi had fallen for Lục Yến.
13
There was a dark forest near the palace gates. That was where the assassination was taking place.
By the time Tô Chi arrived, the two sides were locked in a fierce fight, chaos all around.
Lục Yến wielded a long sword and moved nimbly, looking as if he was about to break free of the encirclement.
The system secretly activated a special function, keeping Lục Yến from noticing the sword thrusting toward him from behind.
“Your Majesty, watch out!”
I rushed behind him in a panic, but the blade passed right through me, unstoppable.
Seeing Lục Yến about to be wounded, Tô Chi risked everything to shield him, then crumpled to the ground.
Hot blood splattered across his cheek. Lục Yến turned in an instant, stunned.
“I’m all right… As long as you’re not hurt…”
Tô Chi’s face was deathly pale. She coughed up blood as she clutched his robe and managed a strained smile.
At the same time, my soul gradually turned transparent as Tô Chi lost consciousness.
I shook my head helplessly and smiled bitterly too.
So my life really was bound to the female lead’s.
“Stop smiling. It’s ugly.”
Before I disappeared, I heard Lục Yến’s cold voice.
I glanced at him one last time, worried.
I saw him hurriedly lift Tô Chi into a carriage, his eyes filled with an uncontrollable frenzy.
And also… Tô Chi’s smug smile in his arms.
14
“Congratulations, Host! The male lead was so worried when he saw you hurt. I think he’s fallen for you!”
“There’s no sign of that at all. Don’t make things up.”
A muffled voice came from somewhere, and the woman’s reply sounded unmistakably shy and sweet.
I struggled to open my eyes. My spirit floated in midair.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of medicine. This was the Imperial Medical Institute.
“She’s dead. Everyone at the Imperial Medical Institute will be buried with her.”
“Your Majesty, the bleeding has stopped.”
The elderly physician, his face slick with sweat, let out a sigh of relief and bowed gladly.
Seated beside him was Lục Yến, calmly sipping tea.
I slowly drifted over to him and secretly rested my head on his shoulder, putting on a pitiful look.
“Your Majesty, if you’d taken any longer, I would have vanished.”
Lục Yến didn’t notice me at all. He just lowered his head to take a few sips of tea, looking to be in a very good mood.
But then the physician delivered bad news.
“Miss Tô’s injuries are too severe. She needs a thousand-year-old ginseng root to keep her alive, and the Imperial Medical Institute has none.”
Huh?
That sounded familiar. The thousand-year-old ginseng was…
“It was a tribute from Cao Ly, and His Majesty sent it to the late Empress’s chambers.”
The old eunuch standing behind Lục Yến reminded him, his eyes gleaming.
Everyone in the palace was waiting to see the spectacle.
They wanted to see who mattered more to His Majesty: the late Empress or Miss Tô.
I angrily punched Lục Yến in the back and started complaining in frustration:
“That ginseng root is the most precious one there is. How could the physician choose something like this? Now someone else gets to benefit from it!”
Lục Yến set down his teacup, raised an eyebrow at Tô Chi lying on the bed, and nodded.
“Go get it. Saving a life is more important.”
“Yes!”
The old eunuch hurried outside, afraid Lục Yến might change his mind.
Sure enough, Tô Chi had won.
Look at that. No matter how important the dead are, they can never compare to the living.
Lục Yến didn’t leave. He drank a bowl of medicine for his heart ailment that the physician brought him.
Then he sat motionless in a wooden chair and closed his eyes to rest.
What heart ailment?
I placed my hand over his heart, but I couldn’t feel a thing.
The long night was a little dull, so I stretched out across the table.
I moved a little closer, counting each of his long, thick eyelashes and feeling his warm breath.
It was rather amusing.
Only when the rooster crowed did he get up to leave, issuing an order to the hidden guard beside him as he went:
“Find every thousand-year-old ginseng root in the world and bring it to the Empress’s chambers.”
14
After that night, rumors spread throughout the palace that His Majesty had someone new in his heart.
She was a young woman who looked very much like the late Empress.
Everyone was waiting to see what title Tô Chi would receive, and placing bets on whether she’d become a Tô Cairen or a Tô Zhaorong.
When the female lead appeared, my presence—the bright white moon—was gradually forgotten by everyone.
In fact, they even called me the biggest obstacle to the romance between the male and female leads.
I didn’t care much, because today was the anniversary of my death.
On such an important day, the palace was quiet, and no one dared make a sound.
White paper lanterns hung in the corners of the palace.
Perfect for Tô Chi and the system to cause trouble.
I guessed Lục Yến was probably sitting alone, drinking in the back courtyard of my palace at that very moment.
“Miss Tô, His Majesty has ordered that no one be allowed in.”
The same old eunuch was guarding the gate. He looked helplessly at Tô Chi, who was making a scene and trying to force her way in.
Tô Chi just smiled at him and playfully winked.
“Don’t worry, Eunuch. If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility.”
She declared this boldly, as if she were the mistress of the imperial harem.
And it was true: everyone in the palace knew Lục Yến treated her differently.
The old eunuch immediately bowed, pretending he hadn’t seen a thing.
Tô Chi smiled even more brightly. Unable to wait any longer, she stepped into my territory.
From a distance, I saw Lục Yến dressed in white, raising his wine cup and mumbling something I couldn’t make out.
I drifted along lazily, following Tô Chi.
She was dressed in white today, without a trace of makeup. In the moonlight, she looked even more alluring.
Just my luck—it was my death anniversary, after all!
Lục Yến, dead drunk, poured wine onto the ground. A slender figure stepped in front of him.
15
“Empress, you’re here? It’s been so long since you had a drink with me.”
Lục Yến seemed a little drunk. As he spoke, a hint of the same old petulance crept into his voice.
He reached out as if to take hold of Tô Chi’s sleeve, but then lowered his hand.
When she heard his murmured words clearly, Tô Chi stiffened slightly, the smile vanishing from her lips.
“Host, why bother competing with the dead?”
“True.”
This time, Tô Chi no longer objected to not being the empress.
She obediently sat across from him at the stone table, poured herself a cup of wine, and tipped it back.
I caught the rich, sweet scent of the wine and felt a little envious.
When I was alive, I was in poor health and couldn’t touch a drop of alcohol.
Whenever Lục Yến drank, all I could do was sit quietly beside him.
Now Tô Chi drank as if it were the most natural thing in the world, her easygoing manner touched with a hint of coquettishness.
She drank cup after cup, and Lục Yến watched her with a frown.
He leaned toward her and snatched the wine cup from her hand, a hint of concern in his eyes.
Tô Chi smiled up at him, looking both docile and eager.
“It’s all right, Your Majesty. My wounds have healed, so I can drink now…”
“The Empress made this wine herself. It’s precious. Who gave you permission to drink it?”
A crisp shatter rang out as Lục Yến disdainfully flung the wine cup to the ground.
He lowered his head and drank in displeasure, but, unusually, didn’t send her away.
That meant he was letting her stay.
Tô Chi suppressed the bitterness she felt at hearing the word “Empress,” and a trace of delight gradually appeared in her eyes.
“Sitting so high above everyone, Your Majesty must be very lonely, right?”
“With the Empress by my side, I’m not lonely.”
The moonlight was hazy, and the shadows of the two figures on the ground intertwined, merging together.
Tô Chi bit her lip. When she spoke, she seemed to have summoned all her courage:
“The dead can’t come back to life. The late Empress surely wouldn’t want to see you like this…”
“Who says the dead can’t come back to life?”
Lục Yến toyed with his wine cup, cutting her off.
But that clearly wasn’t the point Tô Chi was trying to make.
She didn’t take it to heart. Gritting her teeth, she continued:
“Your Majesty, if you keep clinging to the past, you’ll miss all the beautiful things that lie ahead.”
As soon as she finished speaking, Lục Yến suddenly looked up at her.
Ripples shimmered in his usually calm eyes, and a smile spread across his face.
“And what are these beautiful things that lie ahead?”
“What if I said they were me?”
Tô Chi’s face flushed. Her eyes sparkled, making her look even more captivating.
She bit her lip and gazed at Lục Yến expectantly.