Chapter 205: The Empress

Night like ink enveloped the imperial city.

Inside Zhaohua Palace, lamps burned continuously; candlelight filtered through thin silk covers, casting a faint yellow glow that dyed the palace walls and pillars with a soft hue.

Behind a glazed screen, the Empress sat upright before a large imperial desk, clad in a bright yellow palace gown, her head slightly bowed as she intently reviewed the mountainous piles of memorials before her.

"Your Highness, it's late—you should rest now," said Sun Shanggong, bowing slightly beside her, speaking softly.

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Hand over Yu, and they will leave; if not, they will show no mercy to the Night Kingdom. At this moment, Jiaxuan Luo realized how naive his previous thoughts had been—he had actually believed the Divine Temple was reasonable.

Those youths who had mocked her for fawning on Gongsun Hao and envied her good fortune now could not utter a single word.

Mo Jingyuan's gaze sharpened; he strode to the door and pounded on it fiercely, but no one answered.

She wasn't done cursing—she went on, "I think I even heard He Feng calling you a promiscuous whore, stepping on two boats, chasing other men besides him—he must have beaten you for that."

Why is it always me who bows my head? Why is it always me who must beg Leng Dianchen to forgive me? Why is it always my fault?

Xu Jinlang and A Yi entered the room; Jian Lan felt no surprise, her gaze casually sweeping over A Yi's shoulder, where a large sack of flour rested—due to poor handling, a white layer had already dusted his black suit.

Su Nan felt an urge to cover his face, but then, as if suddenly remembering something, he raised a hand to stroke his chin, seriously considering it.

She had never spoken these words to anyone; to all, she was the coldest, the most vengeful. Yet in truth, she thought more than anyone, thought farther than anyone—so much so that what she bore was greater than anyone else's.

Li Yan's voice was low and slightly hoarse; from his tone alone, one could tell he was a quiet, taciturn man.

Seeing the tense atmosphere, An Ruoran finally looked up, scanning those around her: Mu Ximo's face was expressionless as he smirked; Leng Dianchen's gaze upon Mo Qianning carried a hint of deep thought, yet Leng Dianchen himself radiated an aura of apology.

Bai Yu stared at the exquisitely arranged food on the table; her stomach began to rumble.

Su Qingyuan flinched at the word "elder," finding it painfully sharp; she heard nothing after that.

They roasted rabbit and chicken; Mu Jiao watched the golden-brown meat, her saliva nearly dripping.

I lunged at the male ghost with my black umbrella, swinging it, kicking—movements swift and clean; it felt less like I was wielding the umbrella and more like the umbrella was controlling me to beat him.

Nan Qiyue pouted in resentment: "Aww, is intelligence really something you're born with?"

Su Qingyuan looked at her timid demeanor and immediately thought of her younger sister, Su Qingluan; she frowned.

"Use the pressure cooker with the induction stove—I tried the microwave, but it's unsafe. The pressure cooker and induction stove can regulate temperature and are safe," said Mu Jiao.

A low voice, lazy and casual, without flashy technique—just simple, lowered brows and a soft hum.

"I've labored for years; now I wish to rest properly. Would the Crown Prince be willing to take me in?" Yu Xi spoke calmly, his gaze fixed on Di Hao, watching his reaction, his eyes deep with mockery.

Under the barrage of artillery fire, a piercing scream erupted from the flames; accompanied by rolling sound waves, a fearsome beast—towering human torso, lizard scales, spider lower body—charged ahead of the military formation.

Zi Yan replaced Ye Tian's bucket with another of clear underground water, dissolving seven drops of essence blood and one Skin-Refining Pill into the entire bucket.