He looked back at the emperor, surrounded by layers of bed curtains, feeling a sense of triumph. The old man was finally dying. He had endured for so long and was about to emerge victorious. He would no longer worry about the beloved Jin Wang replacing him, nor endure the old man’s neglect and humiliation—especially after hinting at taking Ruan Ning as a side concubine, only to have the old man whisk her away.
What was his would ultimately be his. The old man would not enjoy her beauty; he would possess her before the sickbed, letting the emperor watch helplessly.
“My beloved,” Wei Shu said, “do you remember meeting me during the Shangsi Spring Outing?”
Of course not. Ruan Ning instinctively knew not to reply and displayed a surprised, helpless expression. Wei Shu was pleased. He had always favored delicate women, especially those charming yet fragile, like lambs awaiting slaughter.
“At that time, you were with Min Shi. I was drinking wine in a pavilion by the road. You looked back at me and smiled, like an immortal,” he reminisced. “I remembered you and had someone inquire about you.”
I originally wanted to take you as a side consort, but unexpectedly, the Emperor occupied you.”
“Since then, I have not had a day when I did not think of you,” Wei Shu held her hand, his expression tender.
Indeed, a Mary Sue moment—she had just transmigrated for a few minutes, and two handsome men were already showing favor to her, making Ruan Ning feel a little pleased.
However, Wei Shu suddenly embraced her tightly and lowered his head to kiss her.
Ruan Ning was startled. The Emperor was still nearby, and as his son, he actually wanted to kiss his mother’s concubine. She quickly blocked him, anxiously saying: “Your Highness, the Emperor is still here!”
“That’s precisely what makes it interesting,” Wei Shu laughed softly, watching her panicked expression. “I have thought about you for so long; today I must fulfill my heart’s desire.”
He wrapped his arms around Ruan Ning’s waist and walked to the dragon bed, lifting the bed curtains.
The Emperor lay in the thick bedding, unconscious.
