Chapter 6: Purging the Demonic Soul

At the hour of the rabbit, court officials attended the morning assembly; by the hour of the snake, they withdrew and took their meal. Afterwards, there was a brief respite—a single hour of midday rest, during which officials could walk freely, nap, or consult historical records in the Hall of Literary Excellence. It was in this interval that You Hai obtained permission to accompany the emperor into the rear palace to visit his niece, who had suffered a miscarriage.

Spring had come early this year. As the fourth month began, the Imperial Garden bloomed in a riot of competing flowers. The Sweet Spring Palace, situated to the south of the garden and remarkably close, was the traditional residence of the empresses of Great Yan, singular in its dignified grandeur and the aura befitting the mother of the realm. Its architectural style mirrored that of the emperor’s Qianyuan Hall.

Yet, for all its singular magnificence, with jade towers and golden halls, You Hai felt no desire to admire it. He had come for two reasons: to see Daidai, and to personally investigate the circumstances surrounding the miscarriage. This child, though not eagerly awaited, was one he privately hoped would survive. Since Daidai became pregnant, he had leveraged his connections, secretly deploying trusted people throughout the Sweet Spring Palace, believing he had replaced all of Daidai’s attendants with his own. Yet, his efforts had proven futile.

Setting aside his pain, You Hai walked with a calm expression, though his mind recalculated the abilities of the women in the rear palace. He felt Daidai was surrounded by danger and resolved that, rather than take chances, he would purge everyone close to her except for four girls of the hereditary servant families.

While You Hai plotted, Ji Ye, walking ahead, was also calculating. He glanced back at the Minister of War, who appeared respectfully deferential, and pondered what this old fox was thinking. The You family’s protective nature was well known. Ji Ye was at fault in this affair; soon, when You Daidai saw her uncle, she would surely weep and plead, and who knew to what lengths the old fox would go for her? He would have to deal with a few lower-ranked concubines who were usually at odds with Daidai, to appease You Hai.

With this in mind, Ji Ye treated You Hai with even greater courtesy and humility.

You Hai was not an arrogant minister; he gratefully accepted the young emperor’s concessions and responded with a warm smile, engaging in light conversation. As they walked, their rapport was like a gentle breeze, and to onlookers, their interaction seemed harmonious and pleasant.

Within the Sweet Spring Palace, palace maids attended to their duties. In the bedchamber, Lady Xing had numb legs; Qiuyun, attentive as ever, whispered, “Madam, the mistress has fallen asleep. You may lay her down.”

Lady Xing shifted her legs slightly and whispered, shaking her head, “No, let her be. If I move, I might wake her.”

Feeling her niece’s strong embrace around her waist, Lady Xing gently stroked her face. Seeing her dependence and affection, Lady Xing’s heart melted. What did numb legs matter? Visits to the palace were infrequent, once every ten days or half a month. Numbness was nothing—it wasn’t as though she were crippled.

“Very well,” Qiuyun was prudent and never uttered foolish words like, “Our mistress is blessed to have your love.” She wanted to curry favor, but to Lady Xing, such words sounded like sowing discord. Naturally, kinship lay with the two mistresses; Qiuyun was only a maid, and such words were not hers to say.

Lady Xing glanced at Qiuyun and nodded, “You are good.”

Those three words were sufficient.

Just then, Dongcang quietly stepped in to report the emperor’s arrival. The maids in the outer chamber had already knelt in welcome. When the emperor visited his own women, unlike the morning court, the eunuchs would announce his arrival loudly.

Lady Xing, a woman of noble birth, refined in demeanor and manners, was especially vigilant not to give the young emperor and the You family any sense of arrogance. She decisively roused Qingdai, pulling her off the couch and sternly said, “The imperial presence is upon us—rise and kneel in welcome. Etiquette must not be neglected.”

“Oh, oh.” The groggy great demon was easily guided; in her muddled state, she did whatever she was told. In this, she was much like You Daidai—both spoiled, yet free from morning temper. On the contrary, they were at their most endearing when just awakened, inviting playful teasing.

Lady Xing’s heart quivered at her niece’s cuteness. She patted her head, and when the beaded curtain rustled, she bowed and said, “Welcome, Your Majesty. May Your Majesty enjoy everlasting peace and prosperity.”

“Madam, please rise. There are no outsiders here—no need for ceremony,” Ji Ye said gently. He personally helped Daidai up, his dragon eyes radiant with affection, his manner tender. Anyone unaware of the truth would assume he loved her deeply.

“Etiquette must not be neglected,” Lady Xing thought coldly, though her expression remained composed as she stood behind her husband.

“You are unwell—lie down and rest. Haven’t I said before? When no outsiders are present, we should live as ordinary husband and wife, sharing the same space. That is what I truly desire,” Ji Ye said.

Obediently, Qingdai lay back down, yawning, which made Lady Xing and You Hai frown and cast her a secret glare.

She didn’t notice and instead stared straight at Ji Ye. He wore a dragon-embroidered headband with a blood jade clasp on his brow, his features as exquisite as a painting, his bearing exceptional. As for his appearance... Qingdai, having lived for a thousand years, found herself at a loss for words. He was more alluring than any male demon she had ever encountered—not merely handsome, for demons were prettier than humans, but none possessed his charisma.

Perhaps this was the charm of a divine king?

She understood well: those who became emperors in the mortal world were all celestial kings undergoing tribulation. Great demons who managed to absorb dragon energy could gain ten years’ worth of cultivation in a single breath. Pity that, years ago, when she tried to follow the trend and sneak into the palace for dragon energy, she was stopped by the Imperial Kitchen, dug a hole at the base of the wall, and lived there for over a decade. By the time she remembered her purpose, the emperor had ascended.

Tired of the palace, she had lazily returned to her old den and never again felt the urge to seek dragon energy.

Now, seeing such a radiant emperor, the great demon swallowed, her enchanting eyes brightening with an unprecedented desire to taste dragon energy.

Being stared at so hungrily by his own empress, Ji Ye’s temper flared and his face reddened. He suddenly felt an urge to slap this little creature away.

Lady Xing and You Hai felt utterly embarrassed. The old couple glanced at each other in helplessness, quickly saying, “Your Majesty, the mistress must be famished.”

You Hai hurriedly agreed, his tone genuinely respectful.

Ji Ye endured, forcing a smile, “Just as you say! Li Fuquan, go to the Imperial Kitchen and hurry the meal for your mistress. She’s starving!” His words carried a hint of gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir,” Li Fuquan wiped his brow awkwardly and went to instruct his apprentice. He muttered inwardly that the mistress must truly adore His Majesty—her gaze made him feel the emperor was fresh meat.

Compared to before, when her gaze was “tender and shy,” this was far less restrained.

Ji Ye quickly tucked Daidai’s blanket, performed the necessary gestures, then discreetly distanced himself, turning to invite You Hai to the main hall for conversation.

Having finally rekindled her desire for dragon energy, Qingdai knew the opportunity must not be missed. She threw off the blanket, barefoot, and grabbed the dragon-embroidered sleeve of Ji Ye, her eyes curving like crescent moons, smiling slyly, “Your Majesty, let’s sleep together.”

How clever she was! She had once seen a great demon absorb dragon energy. One must not offend a divine king; to obtain dragon energy, one must seduce him and then sleep with him.

She would reluctantly use this petty trick now.

For her, secular etiquette was meaningless; regardless of circumstance, she acted on impulse. To the world, her behavior was a brazen display of desire, shamelessly requesting intimacy in broad daylight.

Ji Ye and the others all stiffened. As emperor, being so openly propositioned by his own empress, he was first furious, then narrowed his star-bright dragon eyes dangerously, challenging, “Is this the upbringing of the You clan? I am truly enlightened today—remarkable.”

You Hai bowed his head and steeled himself, “A married daughter is like water poured out. Your Majesty may deal with her as you see fit.”

Lady Xing covered her face in shame, retreated with small steps, and declared, “Your Majesty, please discipline her as you see fit.”

Ji Ye coldly eyed the bowing couple, silent for a moment before saying, “The empress has lost her child—her mind must be confused. Duke Pei, Lady Xing, do you agree?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the old couple replied, mortified beyond words.

Thus, You Hai could only withdraw, and Daidai’s suffering was in vain.

Truly, self-inflicted misfortune cannot be escaped.

You Hai flicked his sleeve, knelt to take his leave, and Lady Xing followed. The couple shared a single thought: for the next three months, whoever visited Daidai would be a fool!

The matter of absorbing dragon energy was postponed. Seeing her fragrant pillow about to leave, Qingdai hurried after Lady Xing, tugging her sleeve and asking innocently, “Can you stay? I’ll support you.” You can be my pillow.

Lady Xing paused, looked down coldly, “Take care of yourself,” and shook her off.

Qingdai clung tighter, anxiously, “I’ll give you all my gold and pearls to play with—just sleep with me.” She wished, so dearly, to wrap her tail around Lady Xing.

But—where was her tail?

Qingdai glanced resentfully at her slender legs, kicked them a few times, and stomped her foot, “Stay!” This was now an order.

“You smell so good, it’s comfortable holding you.” She cared nothing for others’ opinions—when her demon nature flared, her bones softened, and she wanted nothing more than to coil Lady Xing in her serpent form. But humans were flat, short.

No matter—she must cling to her, not let her pillow escape. She threw her arms and legs awkwardly around Lady Xing, unfamiliar with the movement, pressing her head against her chest. She didn’t speak, only muttered, first softly, then with hissing sounds, incomprehensible to all.

Ji Ye’s face darkened, unmoving, watching silently.

Lady Xing nearly toppled under the embrace and sternly admonished, “Let go—this is improper.” She raised her voice at Ji Ye, “Mistress, remember your status!”

“Then stay and sleep with me,” Qingdai retorted, taking advantage of the moment.

“Mind your tongue—be silent!” Seeing Ji Ye watching coldly and the maids keeping their distance, You Hai hurried to intervene, pulling her arm, “Come down, we’ll discuss this later.”

Qingdai felt dizzy; the figures before her blurred, her arms weak. As You Hai tugged, she slipped to the ground like an overripe fruit, landing with a soft thud. The sound made Lady Xing and You Hai’s hearts ache. They rushed to help her, but Qingdai pushed their hands away, lay prone, and suddenly vomited a mouthful of black blood.

The atmosphere froze; the three were shocked.

“Daidai!”

“Daidai!”

“Daidai!”

Though the cries came from different mouths, all shared the same fear for her fate—two voices full of pain, one of worry.