The Prisoner of Beauty

Night had fallen. The rows of eternal palace lamps lining the corridors that crisscrossed the palace complex were lit one by one by the palace attendants, their continuous glow dispelling the heavy darkness enveloping the imperial grounds.

The emperor sat by the imperial desk in the Xuan Chamber, his gaze fixed on the candle flame before him for a long time, his figure seemingly frozen in place.

Even now, he still couldn't believe what had happened: after being killed by that arrow piercing his throat, he had somehow revived, becoming this current version of himself.

This current "self" was indeed himself, yet it was also another similar-but-different "self."

Apart from both being founding emperors of Great Yan, this current "self" had not only unified the realm and ascended the throne earlier than his former incarnation, but everything else about this "self" was completely different from his previous experiences.

From the moment he seized this body amidst that thunderclap in the void, fragmented impressions of this lifetime had intermittently surfaced in his mind: it was now the second year of Taihe era; those who had fought alongside him to establish the empire were all still alive, serving as his generals and ministers; his grandmother Madam Xu was alive and well, having gone to Daming Temple these past days and would soon return to the palace; and Su Shi—the woman he had made empress in his original world—had actually attempted to poison his grandmother!

Everything was in chaos. Everything in this world, including the Xuan Chamber he currently occupied, felt both familiar and alien to him!

He had been sitting alone for hours, from when the sun's shadow slanted westward and the Xuan Chamber gradually became shrouded in deepening twilight, until complete darkness swallowed everything and the night watch drums sounded late. Yet he remained tightly gripped by the turbulent astonishment within, until faint footsteps gradually approached from outside the Xuan Chamber, followed by a woman's soft, clear voice speaking quietly with palace attendants—extremely pleasant to the ear. He immediately recognized it as the empress he'd seen during the day, another daughter of the Qiao family.

In his original world, this Qiao daughter had left him with only one impression: that of a cold, beautiful corpse. Yet here, she was the empress of this other self—not only that, but his sole favored woman.

As the woman's footsteps drew nearer, memories from this seized body about their relationship surged toward him like a tidal wave.

During the day, images of that "self" sharing intimate moments with her—phoenix pillows and brocade quilts—flashed vividly through his mind frame by frame...

If these were merely memories belonging to that original "self," then when she had instinctively shrunk into his arms in fear of the thunder at the moment of his possession, that sensation had been undeniably real. Even now, he could still recall the feeling of soft jade against his body.

He shouldn't have developed any peculiar feelings from such a brief embrace with a woman. Yet for some reason, as her footsteps grew closer, he suddenly felt tense.

It had been years since he'd last experienced tension. This sudden, uncontrollable acceleration of his heartbeat left him extremely unsettled.She was the person closest to "himself." If anyone were to notice anything amiss about him, it would likely be her. That was why he felt nervous in her presence, the Emperor thought to himself.

Driven by some inexplicable subtlety he couldn’t quite name, he didn’t want anyone to know what was happening to him. Anyone—including the woman who shared his bed.

The Emperor took a quiet breath, forcing himself to relax his suddenly tense body.

...

The cat seemed bewitched, fawning over Xiao Qiao all evening. No matter how many times the palace servants returned it to Jiade Palace, it would dart right back, impossible to catch or restrain. This last time, it rushed straight to Xiao Qiao, clinging to her feet, rubbing against her, and looking up with pitiful mewls.

The cat had always been aloof. In all the years she’d raised it, Xiao Qiao had never seen it behave like this. Keeping it here risked Wei Shao’s allergies, but sending it away again felt cruel—those pleading eyes and soft cries melted her resolve. She picked it up and carried it to a side chamber near the bedchamber, instructing the servants to bring its bed. Setting it down, she crouched to stroke its fur and coaxed, "The Grand Empress Dowager hasn’t returned—is Jiade Palace too lonely for you? Fine, stay here tonight, but no more mischief! If you keep misbehaving, I’ll really be angry, understand?"

Wei Shao was so frustrated he wanted to claw at the walls—or better yet, smash his way out of this feline prison. But after half a day and a full night of this, he finally accepted the truth: for now, he was stuck in this ridiculous predicament, trapped by a cat’s antics.

No one knew what had happened to him—not even Xiao Qiao. If he kept struggling and got himself locked away, unable to stay near her, things would only get worse.

That short-lived wretch from his past life had stolen his body. Everything else was tolerable, but the thought of that bastard taking liberties with his Xiao Qiao was unbearable.

Even if it was technically his own body—strictly speaking, the Emperor who’d taken possession wasn’t an outsider—his beautiful Empress belonged to him alone. Not even his past self could lay claim to her!

Wei Shao knew he had no choice but to accept reality for now.

His top priority was winning his beloved Empress’s sympathy, ensuring he could stay in the bedchamber and keep watch for any improper advances from that damned Emperor.

"Meow—"

He let out a pitiful cry, then licked her palm.

The cat’s tongue was warm and wet, its tiny barbs sending a tingling itch across her skin.

Xiao Qiao giggled, pulling her hand back before scratching its head instead as she stood.

...

Xiao Qiao dismissed the attendants and entered the imperial study.

The Emperor sat behind the desk, head bowed as he reviewed memorials.

She approached him with a smile. "Still working? I noticed you hadn’t returned yet. It’s late—you must be tired. Unless it’s urgent, why not rest for now? The rest can wait until tomorrow."She approached him, took the folded document from his hand, tidied it along with the other papers on the imperial desk, and then looked at him with a radiant smile.

The Emperor was taken aback and felt somewhat uneasy.

In his previous life, no woman had ever dared to take anything from his hand, let alone a memorial.

Nor had any woman addressed him as "husband" or behaved with such playful audacity in his presence, all while exuding an air of natural intimacy.

Even Da Qiao, whom he had married first, had always addressed him respectfully as "Lord."

As she drew closer, the Emperor suddenly caught a whiff of a faint, soothing fragrance.

His breath involuntarily hitched for a moment. Collecting himself, he mumbled, "I was just about to retire..." and stood up, stepping out immediately.

...

In the bedchamber, orchid candles burned brightly. The palace attendants prepared the Emperor and Empress for bed.

Xiao Qiao lay on the cloud-like pillow, her hair loosened and cascading, half-covering her delicate shoulders and jade-like arms.

From the moment they entered the bedchamber until they ascended the dragon bed, the Emperor's gaze had scarcely lingered on the Empress, as if deliberately avoiding her.

"Husband..."

She called softly to him.

"I am tired," the Emperor said with closed eyes, though his mind flashed back to the scene from earlier in the day when his "other self" had eagerly arranged to meet her tonight. His throat tightened, and he unconsciously tensed again.

She seemed to fall silent.

After a moment, the Emperor couldn't resist opening his eyes. He saw her long lashes slightly lowered, her gaze resting on his face as if deep in thought, and his heartbeat quickened once more.

"Empress, why aren't you asleep yet?"

His voice sounded a bit hoarse.

Xiao Qiao smiled.

"Husband, you misunderstand," she said gently. "I was just thinking that you seem preoccupied. Whatever it is, if you're willing, you can share it with me."

The Emperor exhaled slowly. "I have nothing on my mind. Let's sleep early."

"Alright. I'll listen to you, husband."

Xiao Qiao gave him a smile, obediently lay down, and closed her eyes.

The Emperor watched the faint shadows of her long lashes cast by the candlelight on her face. Just as he was lost in thought, she suddenly opened her eyes again. Caught off guard, their gazes met.

"Husband, you usually call me Manman. What's different today?" she asked softly, tilting her head slightly, her expression tinged with a hint of grievance.

The Emperor hesitated, unsure how to respond, when she smiled again and said, "Never mind. However you call me is fine. Manman likes it all the same."

Her smile was radiant, her eyes shimmering, her face blooming like spring flowers—utterly enchanting. The Emperor's heart pounded like thunder as he stared at her, unable to look away.

"Husband, you have court early tomorrow. Let's rest."

Xiao Qiao smiled sweetly and closed her eyes once more.

After a long while, the Emperor finally withdrew his gaze and slowly closed his own eyes.

Manman, Manman—the name of a bird in the Classic of Mountains and Seas that cannot fly unless paired with its mate.

He silently repeated her pet name in his heart, suddenly finding it incredibly endearing.

...

In the deepest hour of the night, Wei Shao remained crouched in a far corner of the bedchamber, hidden behind the drapes, his cat ears perked and eyes wide open, fixed on the dragon bed.

Since turning into a cat, Wei Shao had noticed his hearing and night vision had sharpened. No movement on the dragon bed escaped his eyes or ears.At the slightest sign of trouble, he was ready to rush out and cause havoc.

His Xiao Qiao remained foolishly unaware, kept completely in the dark. Fortunately, that fellow still had some self-awareness and seemed unprepared to make a move against the Empress yet.

As the emperor, he had inexplicably been possessed by his past self and turned into an eavesdropping cat...

How infuriating! How tragic!

Wei Shao kept watch until nearly dawn. The night passed without incident, and he finally drifted into a hazy sleep. Suddenly, a golden-armored deity descended on clouds, standing before him and calling out, "Your Majesty, Your Majesty, wake up, wake up!"

Wei Shao opened his eyes and saw a towering figure nine zhang tall, wearing a phoenix-winged helmet, cloud-treading boots, and golden armor, with fierce eyes and a lion-like nose. The face looked vaguely familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before. He asked, "Who are you?"

The visitor retracted the auspicious clouds and replied respectfully, "I am the Golden-Armored Deity under the throne of the Queen Mother of the West. I have come by her command to see Your Majesty."

Wei Shao was stunned. He scrutinized the deity and finally recalled faintly that such a golden-armored statue indeed stood in the main hall of the Queen Mother's temple in Yuyang. Hastily, he said, "You’ve come at the perfect time! I’ve been possessed and trapped in this cat’s body—help me escape! Once I regain my true form and return, I will surely restore the Queen Mother’s golden statue... no, no, I’ll build her an entirely new golden temple and offer daily worship..."

The Golden-Armored Deity smiled. "Your Majesty, to be frank, this tribulation was ordained by the Queen Mother herself."

Wei Shao froze, then leaped up in fury, reaching a height of one zhang and three chi: "I am the true Son of Heaven! How dare the Queen Mother defy heaven’s will and treat me like this? What have I ever done to wrong her?"

The Golden-Armored Deity hurriedly said, "Your Majesty, calm your anger. You may not know this, but you did once offend the Queen Mother."

Wei Shao raged, "How did I offend her? That incense hall of hers was only built because my Grandmother provided the funds! She idly enjoys mortal offerings without doing good deeds, yet she harms me like this?"

The Golden-Armored Deity replied, "Your Majesty, have you forgotten? Who was it that destroyed the mural depicting the Queen Mother’s golden image in the hall?"

Only then did Wei Shao recall an old incident from years past.

Back then, the mural of the Queen Mother painted by Gao Bohai had attracted countless worshippers from all directions. Whenever people spoke of it, they inevitably paired the painting with calligraphy, and mentioning Gao Bohai led to talk of Xiao Qiao. Gossipmongers even spun romantic tales of mutual admiration between the talented scholar and the beauty. When these rumors reached Wei Shao’s ears, jealousy flared, and on a dark and windy night, he secretly sent someone to scrape off Xiao Qiao’s inscribed poem from the mural. Unexpectedly, the Queen Mother’s divine image was damaged in the process. Deciding to go all the way, Wei Shao used temple renovations as an excuse and had the entire mural wall torn down, finally venting his pent-up frustration.

Years had passed since then, and he had long forgotten the incident.

Now, he stood dumbfounded.

"Your Majesty, you may not know this, but the Queen Mother was quite fond of that mural. A day in heaven is a year on earth. She traveled across the four seas and spent three days at Penglai Immortal Mountain. Upon her return, she discovered her divine image had been destroyed by Your Majesty. Enraged by your disrespect, she summoned the Underworld’s Yama King and learned that Your Majesty’s past life was steeped in excessive bloodshed. Though destined to be emperor in this life, you were still due for one more tribulation. Thus, she imposed this mild punishment."

Wei Shao’s face fell in despair. He grabbed the Golden-Armored Deity and wailed, "The sins of that past-life fellow have nothing to do with me! Why must I bear the blame?"

"He is you, and you are him. How can you possibly sever that connection?""Can't I just rebuild the Golden Mother's divine statue for you... Just give me a straight answer, what must I do to resolve this predicament?"

"When the lingering wrath from Your Majesty's past life dissipates, today's troubles will naturally resolve themselves..."

As dawn broke, the golden-armored deity's divine form gradually faded away.