In the thousand-year annals of the Six Cities, Ji Bozhai has always held the title of the foremost tyrant—unmatched by predecessors and unsurpassed by successors. During his reign, he executed over two hundred and thirty officials. Regardless of their alleged crimes, the sheer number alone was enough to instill fear.
And then there was Mingyi by his side.
Mingyi’s life was legendary. First, she dominated the Six Cities Tournament for seven years as a man, unrivaled under the heavens. Later, she ruled as the lord of Sunspire City in her true identity as a woman. Under her governance, the status of women in Sunspire City rose to unprecedented heights. The court even saw a period where male and female officials were equally represented, and women gradually began appearing in the Six Cities Tournament teams.
Despite this, history still labeled her as the bewitching consort beside the tyrant—simply because a tyrant was expected to have one. And Ji Bozhai’s favor and indulgence toward Mingyi were universally acknowledged, so much so that he even named the dynasty after her: "Ming."
In the tenth year of the Great Ming, the noble Zeng family raised an army in rebellion. The Emperor personally led the campaign, beheading thousands before his bloodlust was sated. The terrified ministers knelt in protest, but none could curb his fury. The palace gates reported the matter to the Lord of Sunspire, who rode forth at once. Spotting her figure from afar, the Emperor dismounted, stripped off his armor, and handed it all to Luo Jiaoyang, praising his valor in battle and bestowing upon him the title of General Who Pacifies the West.
Luo Jiaoyang: "..."
Honestly, he’d seen unjust accusations fall from the sky, but this was the first time he’d witnessed military merits raining down the same way. The armor was still stained with Ji Bozhai’s blood, yet the man had the audacity to change into a scholar’s blue floral robe, greeting Mingyi—who had come to reprimand him—with an air of refined gentleness.
"Has my Yi’er missed me so much that she’d come to such a place?"
Mingyi’s expression was frosty as she reined in her horse and looked down at him. "They say you were lost in the slaughter, unable to stop."
"How could that be?" Ji Bozhai blinked innocently. "The enemy had already surrendered. Why would I chase down fleeing foes?"
As he spoke, his gaze swept past her, lingering briefly on the palace gate officer who had reported the matter.
Mingyi raised her riding crop to block his line of sight. "What now? Thinking of punishing someone again?"
"How could you think so poorly of me?" He pouted, withdrawing his gaze with a sigh. "I was only worried the battlefield’s smoke hasn’t cleared. If you were to get hurt—"
Before he could finish, Mingyi lifted her hand and seized the throat of a distant Fighter preparing to loose a hidden arrow. With a sharp twist, the man went still forever.
Her once-lengthy white Essence Power had, over years of refinement, become nearly transparent—so swift in execution it required almost no preparation. It was now comparable to the prowess Ming Xian had once displayed.
Ji Bozhai swallowed his concern and amended, "—if your new dress were to get dirty, that would be a shame."
Mingyi wore a crimson gown embroidered with the rising sun, astride a snow-white steed, blazing like fire.
She shot him a glare, oversaw the cleanup of the battlefield, and forcibly escorted the reluctant Emperor back to the palace.
Bai Ying watched as the Emperor spent the entire journey making excuses: "I didn’t kill many. You know me—I’ve been cultivating well lately. There’s nothing I can’t control."
"Your Majesty mastering the threefold Black Dragon Protection is commendable. But the Mystic Dragons hail from the underworld, born with heavy malice, bloodthirsty and violent. It’s easy to lose control." Mingyi stared straight ahead, utterly unconvinced.
Ji Bozhai slumped his shoulders in resignation, though his eyes held a glimmer of delight.He loved seeing Mingyi care about him. In all of Azure Cloud Realm, she was the only one who understood the dangers of the three Mystic Dragons. Others merely feared him and bowed in submission, but she would scold him for his wanton killings and rage at his bloodlust.
What could be more delightful than that?
Thus, while pretending to be pitiful as he followed her back to the palace, he was also overjoyed, tugging at her sleeve as he chatted: "The Ministry of Internal Affairs sent over a pile of portraits today, saying they wanted me to choose concubines. Guess how I replied?"
Mingyi couldn’t even be bothered to lift her eyelids. "How else would you reply?"
After so many years on the throne, it was only natural that some in the court would try to push women onto him. They dredged up history, arguing—what emperor had ever remained devoted to one woman? No matter how deep the childhood bond or how much they’d endured together, didn’t they all end up with three thousand concubines? Especially someone like Ji Bozhai, a tyrant who drove noble families to rebellion every year—wouldn’t taking in a few noblewomen help quell the unrest?
Yet Ji Bozhai had replied, "If war is this entertaining, why stop it?"
That single sentence had further cemented his reputation as a "tyrant," ensuring that historians would bold his name twice when recording it.
Every year, the portraits sent to the palace ended up as kindling for Mingyi’s roasted sweet potatoes. Yet they kept sending them. This year was no different, earning only Bo Zhai’s response: "Go back and study the law. The Son of Heaven is not above the law."
Azure Cloud enforced monogamy, from nobility to commoners alike. As emperor, Ji Bozhai naturally had to set an example.
Except, as Buxiu repeatedly reminded him, "Your Majesty, you don’t even have one wife yet."
The consequence of such reminders was that the esteemed first-rank palace attendant was sent to the laundry bureau to wash clothes for a day.
But even after returning, Buxiu would still ask, "When do you plan to marry Ming Guniang?"
Ji Bozhai was thoroughly exasperated.
Was it that he didn’t want to? Was it that he didn’t yearn to hold her soft, fragrant form as he slept?
Every year, he proposed to Mingyi—using every approach imaginable, forceful or gentle, direct or subtle. Yet she never agreed.
As she put it, the realm had only just stabilized, and many commoners still lived in hardship. How could this be the time for her to marry?
Fine. Her sense of duty surpassed even his as emperor. So what was he supposed to do?
He worked tirelessly year after year, but Azure Cloud Realm was vast, and some places inevitably remained neglected. To ensure every humble scholar in the realm could rejoice would take at least another decade.
But waiting another decade—how old would they be by then? Half their lives would already be wasted.
Granny Xun watched the troubled emperor, hesitating before finally speaking up: "Have you considered that perhaps your proposals... aren’t quite appropriate?"
Ji Bozhai frowned. "After all these years, haven’t I put thought into every single one? How are they inappropriate?"
Her brow twitching, Granny Xun raised a finger to count. "The first year, you lit the beacon outside the palace walls to propose to the city lord."
Ji Bozhai arched an eyebrow. "That beacon isn’t something to be lit lightly. Couldn’t she see my sincerity?"
She certainly could. Back then, all six city lords had rushed over, only to find him standing amid a sea of flowers, boldly declaring to Ming Guniang, "With so many witnesses here, won’t you agree to our marriage?"The consequences were predictable. Not only did Ming Guniang refuse, she also gave him a good beating and forced him to copy the proper uses of beacon fires a hundred times under the supervision of her white cat—not a single copy less was allowed.
"The following year, you built a house of gold," Granny Xun recalled with a frown. "That year happened to coincide with a famine in Newgrass City, and Ming Guniang was worrying day and night about taxes. Yet you dragged her to see the Golden House, claiming it was built with money from your private treasury."
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