"Miss, what's wrong?" Seeing Yun Rao pacing back and forth in the room, Qu Xiao Man couldn't help but break the silence. Since returning from the Imperial Study in the morning, she had walked the room over a hundred times, her beautifully composed face etched with worry, yet she remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together. Qu Xiao-man turned her head, lazily glancing at her. "You didn't even tell me what's happened—how are you supposed to help figure it out?" "%……" Yun Rao pouted. "The Emperor is coming here tonight." "The Emperor coming here?" Qu Xiao-man's voice naturally rose. "To spend the night?" "Who knows," Yun Rao sighed deeply. "Anyway, he's staying at Yuehua Palace overnight." What else could a man do at midnight, visiting a consort's palace? Besides that, she simply couldn't understand—having three thousand consorts at his disposal, how could he possibly find a reason to come to her palace, where she was a frail woman, barely holding on, prone to fainting at any moment? Besides making things unpleasant, she couldn't think of any other purpose. "If he really wants to come, he'll just have to," Qu Xiao-man said coolly, and was immediately given a withering look from Yun Rao. "After all, she doesn't have many days left to live. Why not make the most of these days enjoying the intimate moments between men and women? Perhaps the Emperor, once delighted, becomes fond of her and, if he grows attached, will then be content to leave her in peace—without bothering Yunze." Yun Rao shook her head. "What's the point of needing the Emperor's favor? Simply being quiet and undisturbed would be enough." "Qu Xiao-man furrowed her brow," "This is indeed a problem." "Well, when the tide rises, the shore will rise with it—let's deal with the matter in the evening," said Yun Rao, finally deciding to let it go. After struggling for so long without coming up with a solution, she simply stopped trying, feeling utterly weary and settling back on the bed to rest. Though her health was not strong, she slept easily and deeply—so deeply that she rarely woke up unless she herself stirred. In the past, she hadn't had this issue, but since the red threads appeared on her palms, it had gradually developed. She wasn't sure whether it was a natural protective instinct of her body: when her strength began to falter, she could only recover through this near-comatose state of deep sleep. Yun Rao didn't know how long she had been asleep, but as she drifted into deep sleep, she vaguely sensed her arms being tightly grasped, shaken rhythmically with a strong force, accompanied by urgent calls. She was truly weary, her eyes heavy with difficulty opening, and her foggy mind not even registering that she was in the imperial palace, where such unguarded sleep was not expected of her. "Princess Xie Yue." "Princess Xie Yue." ... The voice came one after another, gradually sinking from her ears into her mind, gently tapping at the haze of her consciousness. It was low, familiar yet strangely foreign. Even in her sleep, it sounded like An Zi yuan’s—just as it had in the past, when she had been cradled in his arms, hearing him softly call her name, "Yun Rao, Yun Rao." But now, the repeated calls, fading into the darkness, carried a sense of urgency, a touch of unfamiliar alarm. "Princess, wake up!" A faint, urgent call from Qu Xiao Man and Cui Xi reached her ears. Qu Xiao-man knew her shortcomings well. Since there had been several such instances, she had gradually come to accept the fact that she often had to wake up on her own. But now, why was she being called so urgently? Yun Rao wanted to open her eyes, yet her entire consciousness was tightly held by an overwhelming darkness, so exhausted and weary that even lifting her eyes seemed difficult. Faintly, she felt a sharp pain in her arm as it was being pulled and shaken. Her body, which had been gently resting against the soft bedding, was suddenly lifted and rocked. A cool palm gently pressed against her cheek, the thin calluses on the palm bearing a layer of cool sweat, pressing softly and repeatedly against her face. "Xie Yue, wake up, wake up." Her originally closed eyes struggled to open, her gaze distant, still struggling to fully wake from the overwhelming drowsiness and darkness. She stared blankly at the unfamiliar man sitting by the bed, as if relieved, yet remained disoriented, her arm suddenly stinging as he firmly grasped it, holding it tightly. With one hand gently patting her cheek, his voice low and hoarse, he asked, "Are you all right?" "Princess," Qu Xiao-man urgently reminded her softly. "Please greet the Emperor." As the words "Emperor" entered her ears, Yun Rao instantly recalled the Emperor's evening visit. Without thinking, she lifted her gaze toward the window—yes, the sky had indeed grown dark. She instinctively reached for the blanket to sit up, only to be held back by Yan Jing, the Emperor. "What's wrong?" he asked. Yun Rao was now completely awake, her face pale as she lowered her gaze and prepared to rise, "Your Majesty, I'm so sorry...," stammering in embarrassment, trying to apologize for her lapse in decorum, yet momentarily forgetting even her own title due to her growing anxiety. She had only dozed off for a short while, and he had already come here—right to her chamber. Recalling the firm grip she had felt in her dream, holding her arm as if she were deeply asleep, Yun Rao felt her face grow even paler, her palms slick with sweat. "Stay seated," he gently stopped her from rising, his voice still slightly hoarse. He was now gazing at her, his expression slightly tense. "Have you always slept so deeply?" A touch of embarrassment crossed Yun Rao's face. "Recently, I've been unwell and have been taking some medicine, so I've been sleeping rather deeply." He looked at her with a complex expression. She subtly lifted her gaze, only to meet his eyes—startled, for a moment, as if they were familiar, though they were clearly different faces. He slid his hand down her arm, grasped her wrist, and took her pulse. Yun Rao stood still, then instinctively struggled, only to be firmly held in place as he insisted on taking her pulse. Yun Rao offered a dry smile. "Does the Emperor know anything about medicine?" "A little," he replied calmly, frowning as he took her pulse. Yun Rao dared not struggle further, merely allowing him to complete the examination, and glanced at him quietly. His face showed no change, though the gradually tightening brows revealed his growing seriousness. She had expected him to say something, but after finishing the pulse check, he simply released her hand and asked, "Have you had dinner?" Yun Rao found it hard to keep up with his thoughts and shook her head. She had rested all afternoon and hadn't expected to sleep so long. "Perfect," he said, already rising and giving orders to prepare dinner. Yun Rao had always felt she couldn't quite fathom his intentions. When the imperial court came to visit, instead of rising to greet them, she remained deeply asleep on the bed. He not only personally woke her up but showed no displeasure—such generosity, indeed, was beyond what one might expect from a prince who had only met her briefly in the morning at the Hall of Supreme Governance, when she had arrived as a princess from a defeated state, not even a favored consort. This kind of leniency left Yun Rao feeling that the imperial heart was more difficult to read than she had imagined. Emperor Yanjing watched the brilliance in her eyes gradually fade with each course of medicinal dishes, and spoke softly. "Your Majesty, I've been drinking medicine every day lately and simply can't manage to eat these medicinal dishes. Could we perhaps have some dishes with more ordinary flavors?" "Since you're unwell, it's best to consume more medicinal dishes for recovery." Cloud Rao once again unconsciously pressed her lips together. Though she spoke with grace, she hesitated to dissent, gently replied, "Thank you, Your Majesty," and then, with reluctance, extended her chopsticks toward the nearest plate, not even glancing at what was on it. After all, whatever it was, it had been prepared with herbs and medicine—so to her, it all tasted the same. She only hoped that the present Emperor, the sovereign of the ninth rank, would not overly attend to her meals, and that she might never enjoy a single feast before her passing. Yun Rao felt a surge of joy, a gentle smile naturally spreading at the corners of her lips. She turned her head, softly thanking Yanjing Emperor. Her beautifully radiant face was further brought to life by the smile, and as she tilted her head to smile, the long, dark silk strands slid gracefully from her shoulders, revealing a small, fair expanse of neck—unmistably graceful and charming. He had never seen her like this. Gazing at the smile on her face, he was momentarily spellbound, his eyes now filled with a complexity he could not quite explain. The smile on her face gradually softened, and only then did she realize how unreservedly she had been—subconsciously wishing to apologize. Yet, his hand already gently pressed on her shoulder, looping around her nape, caressing her cheek and gently tilting her face closer. His breath came close, warm and intense, brushing against her cheek. Yun Rao’s heart quickened, her mind fluttering with anxiety. She instinctively wanted to retreat, yet as if pinned in place, she could not move—only watching, breathless, as his lips approached hers. He wasn't him, yet she always found his shadow on his face. His lips pressed against hers, and she grew uneasy, wanting to push him away, but her hands felt heavy, unable to lift. She had known him for only a day—she should have pushed him away—but the familiar scent and sensation between their lips made her hands refuse to move, even though it wasn't his face. Despite her reluctance to admit it, the deep-rooted tradition in her heart still made her feel uneasy about being kissed by any man other than An Ziyan. As her hands finally rose and touched his chest, the emperor Yan Jing, who had been merely tentatively kissing her, suddenly gripped her arm tightly, cradled her face, and deepened the kiss—urgent, almost forceful, as if striving to free her, yet unwilling to let go, biting fiercely at her lips, sucking and chewing with determination, a quiet, restrained anger beneath the surface, deep and unspoken. She looked into his eyes, puzzled. They were deep and dark, carrying the storm, wrapped in the familiar desire she knew, yet also tinged with anger and contradiction, and with so many emotions she couldn't quite decipher. He looked back at her, seeing her bewilderment, and his gaze suddenly grew stern. He caught her waist and pressed her firmly against him, and then, suddenly, his lips found hers with determined intensity.