Chapter 7 — The System Told Me to Stay Silent, But the Tyrant Hears Every Word

At first, I was entirely unaccustomed to it, spending my days devising various schemes to conceal my inner thoughts. Yet before long, I realized that such efforts were utterly futile. Consequently, I simply surrendered. I began to vent directly in his presence, my mind brimming with unbridled cynicism. This imperial robe looks utterly atrocious today, making him resemble a vulgar upstart who has suddenly struck it rich. There he is, perusing military treatises yet again, merely pretending to be a man of profound culture. Furrowing his brows so deeply while perusing memorial documents—could he possibly be suffering from severe constipation? As for Xiao Mo, he possessed the uncanny ability to listen to my endless streams of internal scoldings while simultaneously attending to affairs of state as though completely unfazed. On occasion, specific phrases echoing within my mind would amuse him to the point of breaking his composure, escaping his lips as a genuine chuckle. Then, amidst the startled and bewildered gazes of his assembled courtiers, he would offer a soft cough, desperately forcing his expression back into an austere mask.

Living together for an extended duration ultimately revealed to me that Xiao Mo was by no means as ruthlessly tyrannical as the lingering rumors suggested. He was merely... a profoundly solitary soul. He had matured amidst a ceaseless web of sinister plots and calculating schemes from his earliest years; his imperial father never bestowed affection, his empress dowager mother never offered warmth, and his royal brothers each regarded him as a thorn in their sides that desperately needed removal. Ascending the supreme throne of the nine-five was an achievement born entirely of his own brutal exertion, carving a bloody path step by step through relentless adversity. Hence, he trusted no living soul, forced to cloak his vulnerability beneath layers of chilling coldness and merciless cruelty. My internal rants functioned for him as an aperture opening onto an entirely novel realm—a domain that was authentic, vibrant, utterly unmasked, and devoid of artifice. Gradually, the nature of my mental grievances evolved from pure condemnation into a delicate blend of gentle teasing and profound compassion. Ah, there he goes burning the midnight oil once more over memorials, completely devoid of any regard for his physical well-being. Look at that, his eye sockets are as deeply shadowed as a panda's. I genuinely yearn to simmer a rich nourishing bowl of chicken broth specifically to invigorate him.

The brush poised within Xiao Mo's grasp paused abruptly. He raised his gaze to meet mine, his eyes harboring a profound tenderness that completely surpassed my comprehension.

Chen Gou, come here.

What could you possibly want?

Assist Us in grinding the ink.

I curled my lips in a reluctant pout, shuffling over with profound unwillingness. The exact moment my fingers closed around the ink stick, his hand shot out to firmly grasp mine. His palm radiated an intense warmth, delightfully dry and brimming with strength. My heartbeat fluttered in sudden alarm. What on earth is he planning now? Is he attempting to take advantage of me once again? Yet he merely guided my hand upward, pressing it gently against his own cheek.

We are weary.

His tone carried an unmistakable hint of vulnerability and exhaustion that rarely surfaced. At that precise juncture, my heart inexplicably softened. Just as this ambiguous and intoxicating atmosphere began to envelop us, a shrill, piercing voice suddenly shattered the stillness from outside the grand hall.

Her Majesty the Empress Dowager arrives!

My heart skipped a beat. Why on earth has this aged witch chosen this exact moment to appear? The Empress Dowager was not Xiao Mo's biological mother, but rather his nominal legal mother. Years ago, consumed by the desire to elevate her own flesh and blood to the throne, she had resorted to numerous vicious plots against Xiao Mo. Following his ascension, she was granted the honorary title of Empress Dowager, though her actual political authority had long since been stripped away. She had maintained a remarkably low profile over the past several years, so what could possibly have prompted her sudden emergence today? Surrounded by a dense throng of maidservants and stern-faced matrons, the Empress Dowager strode into the hall with an overwhelming and formidable presence. Her sharp eyes swept across the room and instantly locked onto me. Upon beholding my feminine attire and my lingering physical proximity to Xiao Mo, her countenance underwent a dramatic and furious transformation.

Emperor! Exactly who is this demonic woman lingering by your side?!

Pointing a trembling finger directly at me, she demanded an answer in a piercing, venomous tone. Xiao Mo maintained his composure entirely, gently pulling me behind his protective frame as he replied with utter indifference.

Imperial Mother, she belongs to Us.

She belongs to you? The Empress Dowager emitted a harsh, chilling laugh. A bewitching creature of unknown origin dares to wreak havoc within the imperial palace! Guards!

Seize this demonic wretch for Us at once!

The matrons standing immediately behind her surged forward eagerly, attempting to apprehend me. Xiao Mo's gaze plummeted to a glacial freezing point, and the formidable, oppressive weight of imperial authority instantly saturated the atmosphere.

Who dares!

Terrified to the very marrow of their bones, the matrons' legs turned to jelly, and not a single soul dared to take another step forward. The Empress Dowager trembled violently from head to toe with unadulterated rage.

Splendid, simply splendid! For the sake of a mere demonic harlot, you refuse to heed even the words of this mourning mother!

Her gaze swept furiously around the room before abruptly transitioning into a visage of profound, theatrical grief.

Very well then, very well; if the Emperor lacks the heart to administer punishment, then this mourning mother shall execute it in your stead.

She accepted an exquisitely carved tray from the hands of a nearby maiden, upon which rested a solitary, forbidding chalice.

This female has bewitched the ruler with her heterodox words and thrown the inner court into utter chaos. According to palace regulations, she deserves death.

Fixating her venomous eyes squarely upon me, she spoke with malicious satisfaction.

Drain this cup, and this mourning mother shall grant you the dignity of leaving behind an intact corpse.

It was a chalice filled with lethal poison.

I gazed down at the deadly cup, which emitted a strange, eerie luminescence beneath the lamplight, yet felt not a single shred of fear within my breast. In fact, a faint urge to laugh bubbled up inside me. What era is this that people are still resorting to the cliche of bestowed poisoned wine? Can they not exhibit even a shred of creativity? Besides, this particular chalice... appears remarkably expired. The coloration and the peculiar aroma make it smell suspiciously like diluted cheap grain liquor. Xiao Mo's countenance had darkened to such an extent that it seemed droplets of water might squeeze from his brow.

Imperial Mother, what on earth are you attempting to accomplish?

Emperor, this mourning mother is merely assisting you in purging your household of pests! the Empress Dowager declared with stern severity. Do not allow yourself to be completely blinded by this siren!

Just as Xiao Mo opened his mouth to issue another retort, I gently tugged upon his sleeve. I offered him a reassuring shake of my head, then reached forward to lift the cup directly from the Empress Dowager's grasp.

I shall drink it.

Xiao Mo's pupils constricted violently, and he moved instinctively to intercept the vessel, only to be halted by a meaningful glance from my eyes. Rest assured, there is no need to worry; I shall not perish from this. This concoction is decidedly defective; I detected the anomaly immediately. Furthermore, let us utilize this opportune moment to discover precisely what scheme this aged harpy is attempting to orchestrate. Tossing my head back, I swallowed the entire contents of the poisoned wine in a single, fluid motion. Following this, amidst the utterly dumbfounded expressions of everyone present, I smacked my lips thoughtfully.

The flavor is somewhat acceptable, though excessively watered down.

The Empress Dowager froze in sheer disbelief. The surrounding maidservants and matrons mirrored her absolute astonishment. Every single pair of eyes stared at me as though I were some otherworldly monster. Setting the empty chalice down upon the table, I abruptly proceeded to execute a full routine of military calisthenics—executing a fierce left hook, followed by a powerful right cross, accompanying each movement with sharp, resonant battle cries! The wind whistled forcefully around my fists, radiating an aura of formidable martial prowess.

A... a demon!