Her lashes fluttered lightly. In the warm yellow lamplight, her deep, rich, and beautiful eyes became even more breathtaking. Her jade-like fingers struggled to push him away.
But her resistance seemed to ignite the man's ferocity. He became more presumptuous and went even further.
Shen Yue cried.
She cried pitifully.
Her slender shoulders trembled softly, crystal tears clinging to her lashes. The corners of her eyes were very red, as if painted with rouge.
The man watched, his heart suddenly quickening for a moment. He chuckled in a low voice, exuding an air of pleasure but showing no tenderness or pity.
—
The Emperor's condition worsened day by day. Shen Yaojin stayed by his side without leaving, even personally attending to him, earning him countless good reputations.
It wasn't just that. The Emperor was now bedridden, unable to even stand. Even attending morning court was handled solely by Shen Yue and Shen Yaojin.
Or rather, it was a battlefield between the two.
Shen Yaojin was indeed the makings of a wise ruler. He was intelligent, resourceful, and kind-hearted, but that didn't mean he was a pushover. On the contrary, his methods were thunderous, swift, and decisive. When it was time to be ruthless, he was more cold-blooded than ever.
All his strategies were aimed at protecting the people's interests. Of course, this also meant infringing upon the interests of some officials. Naturally, many were displeased with Shen Yaojin's methods, but a considerable number of loyal officials stood by his side.
However, it was clear that Shen Yaojin had more support. Shen Yue was not suitable; she truly was not. If the empire fell into her hands, the people would likely suffer greatly.
Yet, Shen Yue wielded far more power than Shen Yaojin.
If the Emperor died, no matter who inherited the throne, it would be Shen Yue. This was because the eunuch most trusted by the Emperor was Shen Yue's man.
Even if the imperial edict did not bear her name, Shen Yue would ensure it became hers.
The setting sun painted the clouds a desolate, vibrant red, casting a warm hue onto the yellow tiles, giving them a faint blush. Wisps of soft, slanting sunlight streamed from the horizon, dazzlingly bright.
Yangxin Hall. Seen from afar, the deep red palace looked as if it were embedded in snow, its golden glazed tiles gleaming brilliantly in the setting sun.
Shen Yue entered Yangxin Hall. Shen Yaojin was also inside. He was feeding medicine to the Emperor, who now lacked the strength to even lift his hand.
This winter seemed exceptionally cold. Outside, wind and snow raged, while inside, the charcoal fire burned, making it as warm as spring.
The Emperor lying on the bed had a pale, sallow complexion, his forehead darkened, his cheeks so thin that only bones remained beneath the skin, his lips purple – a man on his last breath.
If nothing unexpected happened, he likely wouldn't survive the winter.
Shen Yue's eyes flickered. In truth, her heart remained unmoved. She walked forward and softly called out, "Father Emperor."
The Emperor's eyeballs moved with great difficulty. He looked at Shen Yue, his emotions suddenly becoming agitated. He laboriously raised his hand, his trembling fingertips pointing at Shen Yue. A breath was drawn in but could not be exhaled, trapped in his throat. His already darkened face turned purple.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
"May Your Majesty calm your anger!"
The surrounding eunuchs and imperial physicians were startled and rushed forward to pat the Emperor's back, helping him to finally exhale.
The Emperor gasped, wheezing like a bellows with a hole in it. His eyes were fixed on Shen Yue, showing no semblance of familial affection, but rather the look of an mortal enemy.
The medicine in Shen Yaojin's hand was also swept away by the Emperor, smashing onto the floor. The thick, unpleasant smell of medicine spread, adding to the sense of death.
"Rebel... rebel... son..."
He mumbled indistinctly, clearly having more breath going out than coming in, his teeth chattering. He could not utter a complete sentence.
Shen Yaojin looked at Shen Yue, who stood not far away.
Seemingly unwilling to get too close, Shen Yue stood quite a distance away, a faint smile on her face. Her brows and eyes were beautiful and striking, and the tear mole beneath her eye exuded a seductive aura.
Her lashes fluttered lightly. In the warm yellow lamplight, her deep, rich, and beautiful eyes became even more breathtaking. Her jade-like fingers struggled to push him away.
But her resistance seemed to ignite the man's ferocity. He became more presumptuous and went even further.
Shen Yue cried.
She cried pitifully.
Her slender shoulders trembled softly, crystal tears clinging to her lashes. The corners of her eyes were very red, as if painted with rouge.
The man watched, his heart suddenly quickening for a moment. He chuckled in a low voice, exuding an air of pleasure but showing no tenderness or pity.
—
The Emperor's condition worsened day by day. Shen Yaojin stayed by his side without leaving, even personally attending to him, earning him countless good reputations.
It wasn't just that. The Emperor was now bedridden, unable to even stand. Even attending morning court was handled solely by Shen Yue and Shen Yaojin.
Or rather, it was a battlefield between the two.
Shen Yaojin was indeed the makings of a wise ruler. He was intelligent, resourceful, and kind-hearted, but that didn't mean he was a pushover. On the contrary, his methods were thunderous, swift, and decisive. When it was time to be ruthless, he was more cold-blooded than ever.
All his strategies were aimed at protecting the people's interests. Of course, this also meant infringing upon the interests of some officials. Naturally, many were displeased with Shen Yaojin's methods, but a considerable number of loyal officials stood by his side.
However, it was clear that Shen Yaojin had more support. Shen Yue was not suitable; she truly was not. If the empire fell into her hands, the people would likely suffer greatly.
Yet, Shen Yue wielded far more power than Shen Yaojin.
If the Emperor died, no matter who inherited the throne, it would be Shen Yue. This was because the eunuch most trusted by the Emperor was Shen Yue's man.
Even if the imperial edict did not bear her name, Shen Yue would ensure it became hers.
The setting sun painted the clouds a desolate, vibrant red, casting a warm hue onto the yellow tiles, giving them a faint blush. Wisps of soft, slanting sunlight streamed from the horizon, dazzlingly bright.
Yangxin Hall. Seen from afar, the deep red palace looked as if it were embedded in snow, its golden glazed tiles gleaming brilliantly in the setting sun.
Shen Yue entered Yangxin Hall. Shen Yaojin was also inside. He was feeding medicine to the Emperor, who now lacked the strength to even lift his hand.
This winter seemed exceptionally cold. Outside, wind and snow raged, while inside, the charcoal fire burned, making it as warm as spring.
The Emperor lying on the bed had a pale, sallow complexion, his forehead darkened, his cheeks so thin that only bones remained beneath the skin, his lips purple – a man on his last breath.
If nothing unexpected happened, he likely wouldn't survive the winter.
Shen Yue's eyes flickered. In truth, her heart remained unmoved. She walked forward and softly called out, "Father Emperor."
The Emperor's eyeballs moved with great difficulty. He looked at Shen Yue, his emotions suddenly becoming agitated. He laboriously raised his hand, his trembling fingertips pointing at Shen Yue. A breath was drawn in but could not be exhaled, trapped in his throat. His already darkened face turned purple.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
"May Your Majesty calm your anger!"
The surrounding eunuchs and imperial physicians were startled and rushed forward to pat the Emperor's back, helping him to finally exhale.
The Emperor gasped, wheezing like a bellows with a hole in it. His eyes were fixed on Shen Yue, showing no semblance of familial affection, but rather the look of an mortal enemy.
The medicine in Shen Yaojin's hand was also swept away by the Emperor, smashing onto the floor. The thick, unpleasant smell of medicine spread, adding to the sense of death.
"Rebel... rebel... son..."
He mumbled indistinctly, clearly having more breath going out than coming in, his teeth chattering. He could not utter a complete sentence.
Shen Yaojin looked at Shen Yue, who stood not far away.
Seemingly unwilling to get too close, Shen Yue stood quite a distance away, a faint smile on her face. Her brows and eyes were beautiful and striking, and the tear mole beneath her eye exuded a seductive aura.