Chapter 259: Night Receiving Dew, Day Devouring Lotus

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Morning sunlight streamed through the window and fell on Shao Shi's face, waking her slowly.

In fact, Shao Shi hadn't slept much at all last night.

First, Zhao Yu's boundless energy had kept her tossing and turning half the night.

Shao Shi never imagined such things could be turned into so many variations by Zhao Yu—he had nearly broken her apart, she who was already past her prime.

Crucially, she hadn't even been the main focus last night.

Clearly, Zhao Yu favored Fang Baihua the most.

Second, Zhao Yu had a strong desire to conquer Chen Miao Zhen, who appeared indifferent to everything.

As for her, she was merely the substitute when Fang Baihua and Chen Miao Zhen rested.

Yet even as a substitute, Shao Shi had experienced pleasures beyond anything she'd ever dreamed of.

Back then, pressured by Zhao Yu's imperial aura and driven by her desperate need to save her son's life, the unprecedented physical stimulation had pushed her to obey Zhao Yu with all her strength—even making her compete with Fang Baihua and Chen Miao Zhen to please him.

But when Zhao Yu finally grew tired, embraced Fang Baihua and Chen Miao Zhen, and fell asleep, only then did she enter the sage state—and remembered she was a married woman. And let's be honest: although Fang La loved daydreaming, was restless, and chased lofty ambitions, he had always treated her well—otherwise he wouldn't have made her Empress the moment he became Emperor.

Shao Shi and Fang La truly had deep feelings for each other; had he not led the rebellion, they might have grown old together, sharing the same bed in life and the same grave in death.

But fate is fickle, and destiny cruel. Fang La's ambition had dragged them into this vast, brutal tide of rebellion. His impulsive act was a double-edged sword—it illuminated his lifelong dream but shattered their peaceful life; their former simple happiness vanished overnight like mist.

Shao Shi closed her eyes, and memories of her past with Fang La rose in her mind—those ordinary yet warm days faded like morning mist, leaving only an indelible sorrow in her heart.

How ironic: as Fang La's wife, she bore the title of Empress, meant to stand atop power and enjoy supreme glory, yet she had never lived as Empress—not even for a few days as a false Empress—before being burdened with unspeakable weight and helplessness, forced to submit to another man just to secure her son's safety.

Shao Shi had always been gentle and virtuous, longing only for the quiet companionship of a common husband—but because of Fang La's fiery passion and refusal to accept mediocrity, she had been cast onto this absurd, uncertain path.

This heavy cost filled Shao Shi with an indescribable sorrow and helplessness in the quiet of night.

Shao Shi kept wandering in thought until, utterly exhausted, she finally slipped into a drowsy, half-sleep state.

There was no way she could sleep as peacefully as Fang Baihua and Chen Miao Zhen in Zhao Yu's arms—this was her first time sharing a bed with another man.

In her dream, she returned to her old home with Fang La—but she dared not look him in the eye, only stared at her toes like a guilty child.

In the dream, Fang La remained as bold and talkative as ever, surrounded by many heroes who drank, ate meat, and boasted loudly; all said, "Sister-in-law, your meat is delicious! Brother is lucky to have married you!"

The dream shifted: flames raged, screams deafening; Fang La and his brothers charged into the smoke, growing distant—no longer laughing, their faces filled with murderous intent, their swords and spears dripping blood.

Shao Shi wanted to call out Fang La's name, to beg him to stop killing—but she couldn't make a sound, only watched helplessly as Fang La walked step by step toward his unknown fate.

In the dream, she kept running behind Fang La, trying to catch up, to stop him from going further astray—but she was always one step too late.

Finally, Shao Shi stopped. Fang La stood atop the high city wall, his gaze deep and complex. Their eyes met across the air, as if transcending time and space, returning to those carefree days.

But in an instant, his gaze turned cold and alien—as if he had never known her.

Tears blurred Shao Shi's vision, jolting her awake.

Sweat and tears had soaked the sheets beneath her, yet she felt nothing.

Shao Shi stared blankly at the ceiling. The dream had felt so real, she couldn't tell if it was dream or reality.

Shao Shi closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep again—but she could no longer return to that dream filled with memories.

The morning sunlight was bright, but Shao Shi's heart was heavy with gloom.

At that moment, a large hand gently patted the outer side of Shao Shi's buttock, as if comforting her.

Shao Shi startled and quickly turned her head to look.

The first thing she saw was the towering figure of Fang Baihua.

At that moment, Fang Baihua lay nestled in Zhao Yu's arms, her unusually long arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Clearly, the one who comforted her was not Fang Baihua, still fast asleep.

On Zhao Yu's other side, Chen Miao Zhen was also curled against him, sleeping soundly.

There were only four people on the bed—so who else could it be?

Shao Shi stole a glance at Zhao Yu's eyes—and saw they were indeed open.

Instinctively, she tried to avoid his gaze.

But in that instant, she saw it: Zhao Yu's eyes told her, "Come here. I have something to say to you."

Without thinking, she crawled over and pressed her ear to Zhao Yu's mouth.

He whispered into her ear: "You're not to blame. Fang La brought this upon himself. You needn't carry any guilt."

Hearing this, Shao Shi's heart trembled slightly—his words flowed like warm water into her icy soul. She had thought she would drown in the conflict between morality and desire, consumed by endless guilt and shame. Yet Zhao Yu, so perceptive, understood her inner turmoil and suffering, telling her this wasn't her fault, that she needn't blame herself, nor bear the heavy chain of moral burden.

Shao Shi lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with complex emotions—gratitude, relief, and something indescribable.

Zhao Yu smiled faintly, a smile holding both amusement and sincerity, as if seeing through all illusions to the softest part of the human heart.

Shao Shi couldn't help recalling last night's events, and her cheeks flushed.

At that moment, Zhao Yu had already removed Fang Baihua's arms from around his waist and withdrawn his other hand from beneath Chen Miao Zhen's neck.

Zhao Yu lowered his voice and said: "Serve me as I rise."