The drunken Madam Xu had a lot to say—so much that Zhou Zihong grew uneasy.
"If you refuse to agree to the separation, I’ll take it to the authorities and let them decide."
"But you’ll probably agree. After all, you don’t love me. You just need a woman to share your bed, so it doesn’t matter who it is."
Zhou Zihong’s face darkened. "What do you mean, 'it doesn’t matter who it is'?"
Back then, if she hadn’t pursued him so ardently, he would never have taken her in. And now she dared to say such things to him.
Madam Xu tilted her head in confusion. "Why are you angry? You should be happy I’m leaving. No one will fuss over you anymore or care how you curry favor with the City Lord."
"Mingyi gave me my career, my status—how could I turn my back on her overnight?" He suppressed his anger. "Even if it’s just repaying a debt of gratitude, the congratulatory gift I gave her today was too meager."
Madam Xu shook her head. "You know what I care about isn’t the gift, nor you talking to her."
It was his unyielding heart, forever turned toward Mingyi, forever unwilling to live a normal married life with her.
Seven years without conceiving—she had endured countless whispers behind her back. She could ignore them, but she couldn’t bear that he ignored them too.
Marriage was like a business. Both parties invested something, and with love, they could tolerate losses and keep it going.
But Zhou Zihong clearly treated her like an inn—she was the only one investing, the only one tolerating losses with her love alone.
No wonder it couldn’t last.
"Isn’t it just a child you want?" He lowered his gaze. "Fine, I’ll give you one."
Madam Xu laughed, the alcohol flushing her eyes red. "Oh? Now you’re willing?"
"Too bad—I don’t want it anymore."
She swayed to her feet and patted Zhang Tai’s arm. "Miss, we seem to get along. How about we continue our chat tonight?"
Zhang Tai, who had been listening to their exchange, pitied Madam Xu deeply. Hearing this, she nodded at once. "The guest courtyard I’m staying in is right next to yours and Lord Zhou’s. You’re welcome to come talk to me."
Zhou Zihong reached out to steady her, but she avoided him.
Annoyed, he muttered, "If I weren’t afraid of your family coming to demand answers, I wouldn’t bother with you either."
Madam Xu scoffed and left with Zhang Tai.
As they walked back to the guest courtyard, Zhang Tai began praising her. "Madam, you were so bold and decisive earlier—it was truly satisfying—"
Then she saw the woman beside her suddenly crouch down, sit on the doorstep, and burst into loud, heart-wrenching sobs.
Zhang Tai panicked, hastily offering a handkerchief to wipe her tears and helping her onto the Soft Couch. Between sobs, Madam Xu rambled about all the love and grievances she had endured over the years.
She truly loved Zhou Zihong—that was why letting him go tore her apart.
But she knew she had to. No inn could stay open forever while running at a loss.
The weeping in the Palace City gradually quieted. The moon hung high, promising another bright day tomorrow.
Mingyi supported Ji Bozhai as they walked along the Palace road. A gust of night wind roused him from his stupor.
In a panic, he grabbed Mingyi’s hand and looked around, his face collapsing in disappointment. "I just had a dream."
"Oh?" Mingyi asked seriously. "What did you dream about?"
"That we were at a banquet, and you agreed to marry me." Ji Bozhai was utterly dejected. "It felt so real—how could it just be a dream?"
Beside them, Buxiu couldn’t hold back a laugh.Ji Bozhai glared at him. "What are you doing here?"
Buxiu bowed. "Your Majesty, Ming Guniang's birthday banquet has just concluded. This servant is here to escort you back to the palace."
Ah, the birthday banquet.
Wait—banquet?
Ji Bozhai suddenly realized something and excitedly grabbed Mingyi's shoulders. "That wasn't a dream just now? You really agreed, didn't you?!"
Mingyi raised an eyebrow. "Your Majesty is drunk."
"I'm not! I remember you said 'I do'!"
"I said 'alright,'" she corrected him.
Ji Bozhai's breath hitched.
She had really agreed.
After a momentary pause, his blood surged with exhilaration. Overjoyed, he circled around her twice, then asked in disbelief, "How did I propose? What did I say? Why don't I remember any of it?"
Mingyi arched a brow. "Then Your Majesty should think carefully. If you can't remember, I might just stay in the Bridal Sedan."
"Don't! I'll think, I'll think as soon as I get back." He stumbled alongside her, still reeking of alcohol and swaying unsteadily, utterly elated.
"I've already planned everything. Our wedding will be the grandest in all of Azure Cloud. I'll drape red silk across the sea of clouds, wear the finest wedding robes, and after we're married, you'll be the empress while still remaining the Bright City Lord of Sunspire City. You'll come and go as you please—everything will stay just as it was before!"
The only difference was that he could have her again. He could fall asleep gazing at her face and wake up to see her first thing. He could walk hand in hand with her anywhere. Even after a thousand, ten thousand years, everyone would know that Mingyi was Ji Bozhai's wife, belonging to him alone.
Ji Bozhai pulled her close and kissed her fiercely on the lips.
Caught off guard, Mingyi resisted briefly before yielding to him.
She had never seen him so overjoyed, all decorum and propriety tossed aside. After the kiss, he even lifted her and spun her around twice.
Her skirts fluttered, and the air of jubilation spread from the palace walls, permeating the entire court.
The next morning during court, Ji Bozhai nursed a pounding headache from his hangover.
But that didn't dampen his enthusiasm for handling state affairs.
"Minister He makes a valid point. The court indeed shouldn't interfere too much with folk marriage customs. As long as they don't violate existing laws, how people marry is up to them," he declared loudly. "Just like how I'm about to wed the Bright City Lord—man and woman marrying is the natural order of things."
"Grand Tutor Xu's petition is approved. With no natural disasters this year, we can restore normal taxation to replenish the treasury." He smiled. "It'll also add to the festivities for my wedding with the Bright City Lord."
"The Ministry of Rites' request is denied. With my wedding to the Bright City Lord coming up, there's no time for so many leave applications."
"Speaking of my wedding with the Bright City Lord—"
After court adjourned, Song Lanzhi's head was still buzzing. She couldn't recall what important matters had been discussed that day—her ears were filled with echoes of "my wedding with the Bright City Lord," "I'm about to wed the Bright City Lord," and "the Bright City Lord agreed to marry me"—all variations of the same sentiment.
She asked Luo Jiaoyang, "Did His Majesty always talk this much during court sessions before?"
Luo Jiaoyang shook his head. "Never seen it before."Not only during court sessions, but even in the memorials later received by the ministers, the replies were all written as "Approved (This sovereign is getting married)," "Denied (This sovereign is about to wed the Bright City Lord)," "Nonsense (Reading such drivel is worse than peacefully preparing for the wedding with the Bright City Lord)," and so on.
Situ Ling received the memorial and expressionlessly tossed it into the brazier.
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