Li Yuan once again experienced the sharp contrast that was Xie Wei. She appeared so dignified and poised in public, yet on the bed...utterly unrestrained, like a wanton flame devouring everything in its path. After the flames had burned out, the two lay in a quiet, post-passion haze, chatting as lovers do. Read full story at 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝘯𝘦𝘵 It was nothing unusual, mostly trivial talk, mentions of little Ji Hu, scattered comments on the shifting tides of the realm. But tonight, perhaps influenced by Xie Yu’s earlier visit, Xie Wei gently nudged the conversation in a different direction. “Your Majesty,” she said softly, “Yu’er really is having a hard time. Her husband’s a total martial arts maniac. He’s been in seclusion for a whole year and still hasn’t come out. Sigh…” “...” Li Yuan listened without saying a word. Xie Wei continued, “It might have something to do with the Northern Wind Inn. Recently, Bright Moon Prefecture acquired a new fifth rank meat field. It’s right near the Xie residence. Thanks to that meat field’s rich blood energy, cultivation around there has become twice as effective with half the effort.” She chuckled behind her fingers, her voice low and silky. In the Great Zhou’s Nine Provinces, aside from Cloudpeak Province, each of the other eight possessed a terrifying ghost domain, something on the scale of the Exotic Beast Park. The ghost domain in Ocean Province was known as the Northern Wind Inn. A haunted inn, essentially. Bright Moon Prefecture lay near a meat field linked to that ghost domain. That geographic blessing had allowed the Xie residence to raise 30,000 elite cavalry,an astonishing feat. Now, as the Grand Union of Yin and Yang progressed, ghost domains everywhere were starting to merge. In the past, materials from ghost domains, things like cursed items, were rare. But now? They were spreading like ants. People were trading and using them left and right. And the more these items were used, the more likely it became that ghosts would clash. The result? New meat fields were popping up all over the place, and the existing ones were growing more powerful. That new fifth rank meat field near the Xie residence was just one sign. The tip of the iceberg. Xie Wei leaned in, her body brushing softly against his, and said sweetly, “Your Majesty has shown me such favor, setting aside court and cultivation just to keep me and our child company. I’m so grateful. But still… I feel I shouldn’t let you be delayed because of us.” She looked up at him with clear, sincere eyes. “If Your Majesty wishes, you’re welcome to enter seclusion for training.” Li Yuan’s expression shifted slightly. He suddenly noticed that her skin, nestled against his, was radiating heat. But hadn’t she just collapsed from exhaustion a moment ago? What had stirred her again? Thoughts flew through his mind. From the General’s Temple, to her odd remarks, to the current moment, he retraced it all like lightning. Then, abruptly, he understood. His eyes narrowed in realization, and he said, “Your sister’s husband really is a martial arts fanatic, shutting himself away like that for so long, ignoring Yu’er completely.” At the mention of Ximen Gucheng, Xie Wei trembled slightly in Li Yuan’s arms. Sensing a reaction, he continued on that thread, speaking more and more about Ximen Gucheng. And the more he spoke, the more he felt the woman in his arms heat up, her skin searing to the touch, like it was set aflame. The fire caught, and she reignited like embers stirred back to life. Her body tensed, arched, and once again surged to an impossible peak. Only after a long time did the storm subside. By then, Li Yuan understood. He held his sister-in-law tightly, his expression complicated. Xie Wei nestled quietly against his chest, her cheek pressed to him. The air between them was thick with something strange, an unspoken tension, almost surreal. Both of them were smart. And in that moment, both knew exactly what the other had realized. But precisely because they both understood, neither said a word. “Your Majesty,” Xie Wei finally broke the silence, “are you going into seclusion?” Li Yuan maintained his composure, stubbornly clinging to his role as an actor with professional integrity. “I’ll be staying here in the Xie residence for some time. Seclusion…could be arranged. What does the Empress think?” Xie Wei smiled sweetly, playing along. “I think…perhaps if Your Majesty enters seclusion maybe, just maybe, my brother-in-law might finally come out?” As she spoke, she began to shift again in his arms, her movements soft and sinuous like a restless wolf, starving and unsatisfied. Desire. Repression. Sacrifice. Schemes, both overt and hidden. Familial ties, ambitions, calculations. All of it swirled together. And yet, pierced through by a blade called taboo, it shattered into fragments, becoming something darkly thrilling and wildly addictive. Li Yuan said, “Then in a few days, I’ll enter seclusion.” Xie Wei’s breath caught. “Three months, alright? I’ll miss you.” She hesitated, then added with practiced lightness, “After that…you can enter seclusion again. Or perhaps travel. Or disappear for whatever reason. You’re the Emperor, after all, mysterious and unfathomable. It would be perfectly natural for you to vanish…whenever you please.” “...” Li Yuan was speechless. There was a membrane between them, thin, delicate, and transparent. But neither of them made a move to pierce it. Because they both knew, once it tore, there would be no going back. And so, they pretended. Deliberately. Expertly. The Son of Heaven entered seclusion. Soon after, Ximen Gucheng reemerged. Xie Yu was sulking in her room and hadn’t even come to greet him. Li Yuan went to her instead. After delivering a stiff and awkward round of wooden-man-style coaxing, Xie Yu finally forgave him. The two of them then made their way to Xie Wei’s courtyard. Under the growing warmth of spring, they sat in the garden, drinking tea and making conversation. The wind rustled through the branches overhead. Xie Wei’s embroidered shoes swayed softly as if in rhythm with her drifting thoughts. One tea gathering followed another. Then one day, while the three of them were enjoying tea together, Xie Yu excused herself to tend to some minor errand. “Just a moment,” she said, “I’ll be right back.” But no sooner had she left for half a cup of tea’s time than Xie Wei spoke up, casually, “That matter Yu’er went off to handle…she won’t be back quickly. At least three or four hours, I’d say.” Li Yuan rose from his seat. “Then I’ll take my leave for now too.” But just as he stood, he felt something warm and soft brush against his leg beneath the stone table. He looked up. Xie Wei, utterly composed, was sipping her tea as though nothing had happened. Her voice was serene. “Gucheng, stay a bit longer. Have another cup of tea. Who knows, maybe I was wrong?” Beneath the table, her foot continued its gentle motion. The flirtation, the heat, was cloaked in the mundane rhythm of polite conversation. A strange, dizzying intimacy filled the little courtyard. Time passed. Then more. Finally, Xie Wei whispered, “Looks like Yu’er really won’t be coming back. Gucheng, you should head back for now.” Her cheeks were still tinged with red, like the flush of wine, stunningly beautiful and impossibly alluring. For Li Yuan, days like these were entirely new, intoxicating in their own right. He was sinking into it, deeper and deeper, and not even trying to pull himself out. Li Yuan shifted constantly between his identities as the Emperor and Ximen Gucheng. Meanwhile, Ji Hu was slowly growing, and his features began to take shape. He didn’t resemble Li Yuan. Nor did he look like Xie Wei. Strangely enough, he bore a faint resemblance to the former Emperor, though just faintly. More than anything, he had a face all his own. Ji Hu had broad palms, a sun’s-crown brow, fierce and wide eyes, a high, sharp nose, and the hawk-like bearing of a predator. Even at just one year old, Ji Hu looked menacing, his face shadowed with a savage, cold sharpness. Among a crowd of children, he would be the one everyone noticed…but not necessarily in a good way. Xie Yu, being someone who believed beauty was justice, naturally couldn’t warm up to a nephew like that. Xie Wei wasn’t quite so shallow, but even she found his appearance hard to stomach. And since she’d never had any emotional bond with the Emperor, his biological father, it was even harder for her to look past that face with maternal affection. Strangely enough, it was Li Yuan who often took Ji Hu by the hand, guiding his steps, coaxing smiles and laughter from him. Gradually, the child began clinging to Li Yuan, while showing fear whenever he saw his birth mother. Before long, Ji Hu turned one. And his first birthday feast was unlike any other. Xie Feng, general of the Ocean Province armored cavalry, and Gao Kaiping, the new general of the Flying Bear Army, had locked down the surrounding area so tightly not even a breeze could slip through. The banquet was held in front of the General’s Temple. Guests included envoys from other provincial governors and representatives of powerful factions from across the land. There was a buzz of conversation as people stole glances at the Emperor and the young prince seated at the head table. With no other heirs, this one-year-old was undoubtedly the crown prince. But questions lingered in everyone's minds. That was why so many envoys had gathered, to see for themselves, then return home and report what they’d learned. The feast overflowed with delicacies and wine, laughter ringing out, goblets raised again and again. But that was all surface. Beneath the cheer, every envoy was carefully observing the Emperor and the crown prince. They needed to know the truth. Were the Emperor and his heir just puppets in the Xie Clan’s hands? Three rounds of wine, five courses of food, and nothing happened. Some of the envoys were starting to feel let down. Because when nothing happened, it usually meant everything had already been decided. If the Emperor and the crown prince were truly independent, surely there would’ve been some kind of signal, an explanation, a declaration, or a display of autonomy. Instead, there was only silence. Many exchanged glances. Some began to rise, ready to take their leave. And just then, a deep, thunderous rumble echoed from nearby. Like something massive and monstrous had begun stomping across the earth. From the edge of the feast, they saw Gao Kaiping, general of the Flying Bear Army, step into the bounds of the ghost domain tied to the General’s Temple. But as he entered, his appearance began to change. The polished silver armor blackened, transforming into an eerie full-body suit of ghostly iron. His silver spear corroded, turning blood-red with rust and rot. The warhorse he led was also clad in dark armor. Its eyes glowed an ominous green, and glimpses of bone flashed beneath its helm. With every step, a cold wind swirled, and when it snorted, the sound was like thunder crashing with a tiger’s roar. This was no longer Gao Kaiping. This was a ghost general. He strode forward, stepped behind the Emperor and the prince, and slammed his bloodstained spear into the earth with a thunderous clang. KLANG! The sound crashed like thunder, rippling outward in shockwaves that swept over the entire gathering. In an instant, the banquet fell into absolute silence. Those who had been invited to attend, envoys, lords, and dignitaries, were no ordinary guests. They knew things. Many of them had heard whispers of this very secret. Now, they sat up straight, solemn and tense. Xie Feng stepped forward, seizing the moment. He raised his voice and began reciting the proclamation that had long been prepared. “The Lotus Cult rebels have brought calamity to the nation, entrenched themselves in the Jade Capital, and kept the Emperor and crown prince away from their rightful place for far too long.  This cannot stand!  We, the Xie Clan, raise the banner of righteous rebellion and call upon the heroes of the realm to rise together, crush the Lotus Cult traitors, and destroy the vile and deceitful Immortal Worship Cult. To restore balance under Heaven!” The plan, of course, had been crafted by Xie Wei. It was she who had arranged everything, even enlisting Gao Kaiping’s cooperation in this ghostly show of force. As for Xie Feng’s speech, the envoys didn’t oppose it. Most nodded politely and offered vague promises to report back and seek further instructions. Ji Hu’s first birthday banquet had been grand, extravagant, and full of drama. Yet somehow, it had nothing to do with the boy himself. After the feast ended, the future emperor was bundled into a carriage and left sitting in the dark, listening to the endless, monotonous creak of wheels and the cold jolts of an unpadded seat as he was carried away. “Mama, Mama…” In the darkness, Ji Hu whispered. But no one answered. Only the wet nurse was there with him. “Papa… Papa…” He kept trying, using the few words he had managed to learn. The nurse simply replied, “His Majesty and Her Majesty are very busy.” The little boy burst into tears. The nurse tried to soothe him, but it was no use. Nothing she did worked. Then the silk curtain was lifted, and a figure stepped inside. Moonlight spilled in behind him, casting his silhouette in silver, revealing the Emperor. Ji Hu was still crying. Li Yuan gently wiped his tears and picked him up, ruffling his short hair. The wet nurse quietly took her leave. After a while, Ji Hu finally began to calm down. Still sniffling, he looked up with wide, confused eyes and asked in a small, broken voice, “Papa…why…Mama…doesn’t…want me?” Li Yuan’s voice was soft. “We both love you very much. Your mother is just…very busy.” Then he added, “And you shouldn’t call me Papa. You should say Imperial Father.” “Imperial…Fa…Father…” Ji Hu mumbled, burying his face against Li Yuan’s chest, clinging to the warmth and tenderness he felt there. Li Yuan turned slightly to gaze out the window. The moonlight outside was cold. Ji Hu had been born in the dead of winter, and now, it was winter again. Though today was unusually clear, the wind outside still howled like blades, cutting through flesh and bone. Li Yuan looked down at the ugly little boy in his arms and said, “You should practice walking more. When spring comes, I’lll take you out to fly a kite.” “Imperial Father…what’s a…kite?” Ji Hu asked, stumbling over the words. And so Li Yuan began to explain. As he spoke, the child’s eyes slowly lit up, filled with wonder and a flickering hope. But of course…none of it was real. Everything Li Yuan said was a lie, a manufactured emotion spun like silk from his lips. And yet, the child needed those lies. No matter how cruel or bleak the future might be, at the very least, Li Yuan could give this puppet emperor-to-be a slightly gentler childhood, even if it was built on illusion.