For a moment, the person before her seemed infinitely close to the image of the Tyrant from the book.
But tyrants aren’t born tyrants—they’re driven mad step by step by migraines.
…Migraines.
But this was destined to be an unpleasant topic. He was still ill, so in the end, she only said softly, “You’ve worked hard today.”
Xiahou Dan listlessly sipped his porridge and replied offhandedly, “It was alright. Aside from acting, I didn’t do much. Oh, right—” He chuckled. “I also had Yang Duojie drag the old men from the Imperial Observatory out to observe the stars at night and draft a memorial.”
Among the scholars back then, Yang Duojie and Li Yunxi were equally talented and shared similar temperaments—both were hot-headed troublemakers. But after reading their essays, Xiahou Dan noticed one area where Yang surpassed Li: his eloquence.
Li Yunxi, straightforward as he was, would only speak his mind bluntly, while Yang Duojie could cite extensively, weaving dazzling rhetoric and invoking countless examples from heaven and earth to persuade you. Once he set his mind on something, he could turn black into white.
That was why he was assigned to the Imperial Observatory.
Yang Duojie had been deeply dissatisfied with this arrangement at the time. He had entered the court to engage in politics and governance, not to compile some damned calendar.
Xiahou Dan convinced him with a single sentence: “Our faction is weak now, so we must borrow the power of gods and spirits.”
“He proved he could write—something about Jupiter aligning with Saturn, or the red and horned year-star in the northwest. In short, the message was clear: it’s time for peace talks, or we’ll face a crushing defeat if the war continues. It was so convincing that even some in the Empress Dowager faction were spooked.”
Yu Wanyin smiled. “Sounds like it went smoothly. Now we just have to wait for the envoy delegation.”
Xiahou Dan: “…It’s not that simple.”
He fumbled by the pillow and handed Yu Wanyin a letter. “From Wang Zhao. It arrived around the same time as the missive from Yan. The contents are a bit odd.”
Wang Zhao’s handwriting was cramped and messy, as if written in haste.
After entering Yan, he had investigated and found the situation largely matched the rumors: Yan Wang, Zha Luo Wa Han, and his nephew Tuer were locked in a tense standoff, neither willing to yield. Tuer, young and vigorous, had greater popular support, while the one-eyed Yan Wang, unwilling to relinquish power, had grown close to the queen of the neighboring Qiang Kingdom. Though weak, the Qiang were skilled in poisons, and their underhanded tactics gave the brute-force Yan people a headache. Yan Wang used this to consolidate his position.
Previously, Daxia had driven them back three hundred li, expelling them beyond the Jade Gate Pass. As Yan Wang aged, this defeat left him feeling powerless, and he began seeking peace. In contrast, Tuer was ambitious and an uncompromising war hawk.
Xiahou Dan hadn’t pinned all his hopes on the peace talks. His earlier instructions to Wang Zhao were: if the talks couldn’t be secured, then stir the pot and try to incite internal strife in Yan. That way, when the drought came, Yan would be too preoccupied with its own troubles to take advantage of Daxia’s plight.
But the outcome was even better than he’d anticipated—Yan Wang had actually agreed to send envoys.
Yet Wang Zhao felt inexplicably uneasy.
In his letter, he pointed out that the conflict between Yan Wang and Tuer had reached a boiling point, to the extent that two tigers couldn’t share one mountain. But this time, Tuer hadn’t loudly opposed the envoy mission. Given his fierce temperament, his silence was highly unusual.
Wang Zhao was traveling with the Yan envoy delegation but feared they might be intercepted along the way, so he sent this letter in advance to warn Xiahou Dan to prepare for their reception.
Xiahou Dan: “What do you think?”Yu Wanyin shook her head. "This plotline has deviated from the original script. I can't offer any suggestions."
"Never mind, let's just take it one step at a time."
Yu Wanyin exhaled deeply. Now that they'd strayed from the original story, she felt adrift without any anchor, constantly anticipating trouble. But at this stage, with everyone relying on their own wits and strategies, how much value could she really contribute?
"Enough talking. Dan'er, you're not allowed to use your brain today," Bei Zhou interjected, carrying a wooden tray with several side dishes and handing Xiahou Dan a cup of warm water. Yu Wanyin was shooed away to eat, catching a glimpse of Xiahou Dan swallowing two pills from the corner of her eye.
Surprised, she asked, "Did A Bai find the medicine so quickly? Does it work?" Without even diagnosing the illness, how could they treat it?
Xiahou Dan paused before answering vaguely, "Not really. Just a last-ditch effort."
"Don't take random pills—what if it worsens..."
Bei Zhou reassured, "It's fine. I tested them."
It's already worsening, Xiahou Dan thought.
Truthfully, whether he took medicine or not, or what kind, made no difference—the headaches only grew more severe with each passing year.
What had once been occasional, mildly irritating dull pains had gradually transformed into relentless, skull-splitting torture.
Most days, he endured it without a flicker of expression.
But there were moments when even he couldn't hold back. Fortunately, his persona as the Tyrant meant no one batted an eye if he suddenly threw a tantrum or smashed a bowl.
Over time, those moments became more frequent.
Eventually... he could no longer tell whether he was still acting.
Until that day.
Xie Yong'er persisted, attempting to seduce Xiahou Dan several more times—all in vain.
Her outfits grew increasingly alluring, yet her spirits sank lower with each passing day.
Soon, the first day of the month arrived again, when all consorts paid their respects to the Empress Dowager. Heads bowed, none dared meet her gaze—everyone knew her temper had been foul lately, and no one wanted to provoke her.
But the funereal atmosphere only stoked the Empress Dowager's fury further.
She couldn't outmaneuver Prince Duan or stop the Yan envoys from coming to negotiate peace.
The moment the Imperial Observatory drafted their memorial, she got wind of it and summoned the old scholars, pressuring them to suppress the report.
The elders meekly agreed, yet the very next morning, the memorial was read aloud at court—unchanged.
Furious, she summoned Xiahou Dan directly this time, berating him for his shortsightedness in conspiring with wolves, his lack of filial piety, and his defiance of her will by yielding to Prince Duan.
Xiahou Dan feigned surprise. "So, Mother Empress suggests we reignite the war just to spite Prince Duan, even if it means grinding the Central Army to dust?"
The Empress Dowager's delicate brows shot up. "The Emperor has truly grown bold!"
Xiahou Dan adopted an expression of shameless indifference. "Thank you for the praise, Mother Empress."
She gritted her teeth in frustration.
She even found herself missing Yu Wanyin. Back when Yu Wanyin enjoyed the Imperial Favor, she had been such a convenient weak spot—just a slight threat against the girl, and Xiahou Dan would comply without protest.
Now that Yu Wanyin was banished to the Secluded Palace, who else could she use?
The Empress Dowager narrowed her eyes and murmured, "That Consort Xie has been parading around too conspicuously lately. This old one feels inclined to discipline her."
Xiahou Dan: "?"
Xiahou Dan: "As you wish."
The mere thought of it made the Empress Dowager dig her manicured nails into her palms.She glanced at Xie Yong'er with a critical eye and said, "Why does Consort Xie look so meek and submissive in front of this old one?"
Xie Yong'er shuddered and hurriedly replied, "Mother Empress, please calm your anger. Yong'er... Yong'er was feeling unwell just now."
The Empress Dowager raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's the matter? Tell me."
Xie Yong'er mumbled a few words.
Before the Empress Dowager could make out what she said, Xie Yong'er suddenly turned pale, stood up abruptly, rushed to the side, and bent over, vomiting with a loud "ugh."
The Empress Dowager's brows twitched slightly, revealing a hint of surprise.
Xie Yong'er vomited everything she could and continued dry heaving, unable to stop for a long while. With tears in her eyes, she knelt on the ground, begging for mercy.
The Empress Dowager found the sight unpleasant and waved her hand dismissively. "Take her away to rest."
After all the consorts had withdrawn, the Empress Dowager remained seated, leisurely picking up a longan from the fruit platter and eating it.
She asked softly, "Wasn't she given the Birth Control Concoction before?"
There were no secrets in the imperial harem. By noon, news of Xie Yong'er's morning episode had spread far and wide. By nightfall, even Yu Wanyin in the Secluded Palace had heard about it—thanks to Xiahou Dan's gossip.
Yu Wanyin's eyelids twitched. "Do you know what this usually means?"
"Pregnancy?" Xiahou Dan shook his head. "That's the rumor going around, but I've never touched her."
Yu Wanyin's expression was complicated.
Xiahou Dan suddenly realized, "...Ah."
Yu Wanyin patted him sympathetically.
"So that's why she's been pouncing on me like a starving tiger lately—she wanted me to be the father?"
The phrasing successfully tickled Yu Wanyin's funny bone. She suppressed a laugh and said sympathetically, "Most likely."
Xiahou Dan was puzzled. "But she drank the Birth Control Concoction. I saw her drink a whole cup of it."
"That tea didn't just contain birth control medicine—it also had a sedative. Maybe the two drugs conflicted and canceled each other out. Besides, Xie Yong'er is the chosen one, gifted with extraordinary luck. In the original story, she managed to get pregnant despite the Empress Dowager's oppression and all the Imperial Harem Intrigue—oh, and by the way, the child wasn't yours either."
"Whose was it?"
Yu Wanyin patted him again.
Xiahou Dan sighed. "Prince Duan is so reckless. I overestimated him."
"She drank the Birth Control Concoction, so both sides thought it was safe. He probably figured that even if she did get pregnant, he could pass it off as yours—after all, who would've guessed you'd... remain chaste and not even let her touch you?"
Recalling Xiahou Dan's expression when he woke up—looking like "I kill people in my dreams"—Yu Wanyin couldn't help but tease him a little.
But then she remembered how he had firmly rejected Xie Yong'er, and a faint sense of smugness crept in.
As a modern adult who had dated before and wasn't bad-looking, she wasn't bothered by the idea of exes. And since Xiahou Dan had been an actor—a profession swarming with admirers—it was unlikely he had remained single all his life.
She didn't mind past relationships. But having exes was one thing; becoming an emperor and passively acquiring a harem was another.
The former was just a matter of emotions, while the latter bordered on morality.
Before, she hadn't been love-struck enough to pay much attention.
Now she had downgraded. She despised herself.
Xiahou Dan said calmly, "I just don't like her."
"Who knew you were such a gentleman? Truly a breath of fresh air in this cutthroat palace." Yu Wanyin half-jokingly praised him.But there was no response as expected.
She looked up in surprise, just in time to catch Xiahou Dan lowering his gaze. He seemed to pause for half a beat before smiling and saying, "Thank you for the compliment. I think so too."
Yu Wanyin was taken aback.
Xiahou Dan rarely wore such a fake smile in front of her.
After weeks of political maneuvering, the Empress Dowager, perhaps unwilling to be seen as disregarding the greater good, finally relented and agreed to allow the envoys from Yan to enter the court for the New Year celebrations.
As autumn deepened, the Ministry of Rites had already begun preparations for the Thousand Autumns Banquet in winter.
The Thousand Autumns Banquet was the Emperor's birthday celebration, traditionally a grand occasion for the entire nation. However, after the commotion at the treasury gates last time, Xiahou Dan had taken the opportunity to advocate for frugality and reduced expenditures. With the massive costs of constructing the Empress Dowager's mausoleum this year, his own banquet would be scaled down.
When this news spread among the people, along with several other recent decrees, Xiahou Dan's reputation improved significantly—though how the Empress Dowager, who had been subtly slighted, reacted remained unknown.
No matter how scaled down, a celebratory banquet was unavoidable. This year, in addition to the court officials, envoys from several neighboring states were also invited to present their tributes.
The Ministry of Rites was bustling with activity, and even the Imperial Observatory found itself with extra work.
Yang Duojie was overwhelmed.
As a junior clerk newly assigned to the Imperial Observatory, he was naturally saddled with the most exhausting tasks—shuttling back and forth between the Ministry of Rites to finalize auspicious dates and times, ceremonial arrangements, and the sequence of events.
What frustrated him most was that this work created no real value; it was all for show.
Like Li Yunxi, Yang Duojie valued practicality and despised such superficial formalities. While he eloquently justified eight different interpretations for the timing of a meal, he inwardly lamented his plight, even beginning to question whether entering officialdom had been the right choice.
Amid all this, Xiahou Dan issued an order during a small meeting: "Minister Yang, do your best to participate in the Ministry of Rites' planning for the reception of the Yan envoys."
Yang Duojie finally snapped.
His way of snapping was far more artful than Li Yunxi's: "Your Majesty, if Yan comes with ill intentions, no matter how meticulously we receive them, it’s unlikely to change their minds."
Xiahou Dan expressionlessly placed a letter on the table. "Wang Zhao sent this shortly before the envoys departed. We only received it a few days ago."
After reading it, everyone was shocked.
Wang Zhao wrote that he had altered his plans at the last minute and would not be returning to Daxia with the envoys. The reason was that Prince Yan, ever hospitable, had repeatedly urged him to stay longer to strengthen the friendship between their nations.
Er Lan exclaimed, "Brother Wang, he—"
Xiahou Dan cut in, "There’s no further news."
The Emperor and his ministers exchanged glances, momentarily speechless.
Anyone with a brain could sense something was amiss.
Yang Duojie struggled to voice his thoughts. "Even in war, envoys are not harmed. If Yan refuses to send Brother Wang back, could they have already…"
Xiahou Dan, however, remained calm. "We never expected them to act in good faith. If they send soldiers, we’ll deploy our own; if they bring floods, we’ll raise dams. We’re not entirely unprepared here. That’s why you must participate in their reception—so we can act as needed when the time comes."The senior palace maid beside the Empress Dowager observed Xie Yong'er closely for some time before reporting, "Consort Xie appears completely normal and hasn't vomited in public again. But she's extremely vigilant. Several times when I tried to deliver abortifacient medicine, she immediately poured it out—perhaps because the scent was off."
The Empress Dowager snorted coldly.
The maid quickly knelt and said, "That Birth Control Concoction was personally delivered by me back then. It's said Xie Yong'er had quite a strong reaction after drinking it. Since she consumed it, there should be no issue. Actually, Consort Xie might not even be pregnant..."
"Oh?"
The maid lowered her voice: "His Majesty's bedroom affairs have always been... Otherwise, the Little Crown Prince wouldn't have been so difficult to conceive back then."
The Empress Dowager seemed to recall something and scoffed, "Useless thing."
The maid laughed along and crawled forward to peel longans for her: "Ah, ever since that assassination attempt by the beauty, His Majesty seems to have been frightened out of his wits... Well, let's just say certain matters have become... challenging."
The Empress Dowager picked up a plump fruit: "What do you know? He knows he's just a puppet. He's disobedient, so I want a smaller, more compliant puppet. With the Little Crown Prince, he's lost his value."
The maid exclaimed in surprise, "Does Your Majesty mean His Majesty has been pretending all along?"
The Empress Dowager said coldly, "What does it matter whether he's pretending or not? Doesn't he still have to obey my commands? Hmph! After being a discarded pawn for so many years, he suddenly thinks his wings have grown strong enough to oppose me?"
She bit into the longan, its juice splattering: "Peace negotiations? I'll let you negotiate until the heavens collapse and earth splits apart."
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