For a moment, the person before her seemed infinitely close to the image of the tyrant in the book.

But a tyrant isn’t born a tyrant; he’s driven mad by chronic headaches.

…Chronic headaches.

This wouldn’t be a pleasant topic. He was still ill, so she simply said softly, “You worked hard today.”

Xiahou Dan, weak and sipping porridge, casually replied, “Not too bad. Besides acting, I didn’t do much. Oh, right,” he smiled, “I had Yang Duojie drag the old astrologers from the Astronomical Bureau out to observe the stars and write a memorial.”

Among the students at the time, Yang Duojie and Li Yunxi were equally talented and both had fiery tempers. But Xiahou Dan had read their writings and found that Yang Duojie had one advantage over Li Yunxi: eloquence.

Li Yunxi, straightforward, spoke whatever was on his mind, while Yang Duojie could use numerous examples to persuade you with flowery rhetoric. Once he believed in something, he could argue black into white.

So he was sent to the Astronomical Bureau.

At the time, Yang Duojie was very dissatisfied with this arrangement. He had joined the court to participate in governance, not to compile some ridiculous calendar.

Xiahou Dan persuaded him with one sentence: “We are currently weak and must rely on the power of the gods.”

“It turns out he can indeed write. Something about Jupiter conjunct Saturn, something about the northwest star being red with horns—in short, it said that we should negotiate peace, and continuing the war would result in a disastrous defeat. Very convincing; even some of the Empress Dowager’s faction were frightened.”

Yu Wanyin laughed, “Sounds like it went smoothly. Now we just wait for the envoy.”

Xiahou Dan: “…Not that simple.”

He fumbled around the pillow and handed Yu Wanyin a letter: “This came from Wang Zhao, arriving shortly after Yan’s letter. The content is a bit odd.”

Wang Zhao’s handwriting was dense and messy, as if written in a hurry.

After entering Yan, he investigated and found the situation as rumored: King Zhaluo Wahan and his nephew Tuer were at odds, neither yielding to the other. Tuer, young and strong, was more popular; the one-eyed king was reluctant to relinquish power and was close to the queen of Qiang. Though Qiang was small, they were skilled in poison, causing the brute force-reliant Yan people considerable trouble, thus consolidating the king’s position.

After Daxia repelled them 300 miles and drove them out of Yumenguan, the aging king felt increasingly powerless after this defeat and sought peace. In contrast, Tuer was ambitious and a staunch war advocate.

Xiahou Dan hadn’t placed all his hopes on negotiations. His earlier instructions to Wang Zhao were: if peace talks failed, stir the waters and incite internal strife in Yan. This way, during the drought year, Yan would be too preoccupied to take advantage of Daxia’s plight.

The result exceeded his expectations; the king actually agreed to send an envoy.

But Wang Zhao felt inexplicably uneasy.

He pointed out in his letter that the conflict between the king and Tuer had reached a boiling point, to the point where two tigers couldn’t coexist on one mountain. Yet this time, Tuer hadn’t vocally opposed the envoy. Given his fierce nature, his silence was highly unusual.

Wang Zhao, accompanying the Yan envoy, feared ambush along the way and sent a letter ahead to alert Xiahou Dan to prepare for contingencies.

Xiahou Dan: “What do you think?”

Yu Wanyin shook her head: “This plotline isn’t in the script; I have no advice.”

“No worries, we’ll take it one step at a time.”

Yu Wanyin sighed. Deviating from the original script left her feeling lost and empty, always anticipating something to go wrong. But reaching this point, everyone had to rely on their own wits and courage. How much value could she really add?

“No more talking. Dan, you’re not allowed to use your brain today.” Bei Zhou brought a tray of small dishes and handed Xiahou Dan a cup of warm water. He shooed Yu Wanyin aside to eat, and in her peripheral vision, she saw Xiahou Dan take two pills.

She asked in surprise, “Did A Bai find medicine so quickly? Does it work?” How could they treat it without even diagnosing the condition?

Xiahou Dan paused and vaguely said, “Not really, just a desperate measure.”

“Don’t take random medicines; it could make things worse…”

Bei Zhou reassured her, “It’s fine; I checked it.”

It’s already worsened, Xiahou Dan thought.

In reality, whether he took medicine or not, and whatever medicine he took, didn’t affect the gradual worsening of his headaches.

What began as occasional, mildly annoying dull pain had slowly evolved into persistent, hammering agony.

Most of the time, he endured it without changing his expression.

But there were always times when he couldn’t bear it. Fortunately, his persona was that of a tyrant; no one was surprised when he suddenly threw a fit and smashed a bowl.

Gradually, those moments became more frequent.

Eventually, he couldn’t tell if he was still acting.

Until that day.

Xie Yonger persistently tried to seduce Xiahou Dan several times but failed each time.

She dressed more seductively every day but looked more and more dispirited.

Soon, it was the first of the month again, and all the concubines went to greet the Empress Dowager, each with downcast eyes, not daring to look up—they all knew the Empress Dowager was in a foul mood lately and didn’t want to provoke her.

Seeing the mournful atmosphere, the Empress Dowager became even angrier.

She couldn’t deal with Prince Duan and couldn’t stop the Yan envoy’s peace talks.

She had just received a letter as the astronomers wrote their memorial. She summoned the old men, intimidated and coaxed them, trying to suppress the memorial.

They timidly agreed, but the next day at the morning court, the memorial was read out unchanged.

Furious, she summoned Xiahou Dan, scolding him for short-sightedness, collaborating with the enemy, and being unfilial for defying her and submitting to Prince Duan.

Xiahou Dan was astonished: “So Mother’s intention is to renew the war and exhaust the central army?”

The Empress Dowager’s eyebrows shot up in anger. “The emperor is really getting bold!”

Xiahou Dan replied with the calm demeanor of someone unafraid of consequences, “Thank you for the compliment, Mother.”

The Empress Dowager was so angry she could grind her silver teeth to dust.

She even started to miss Yu Wanyin. When Yu Wanyin was the emperor’s favorite, she was such a useful weak point. A slight threat to that girl, and Xiahou Dan would do anything she asked.

Now that Yu Wanyin was in the cold palace, who else could she use?

The Empress Dowager narrowed her eyes and softly said, “That Consort Xie has been too conspicuous lately. I think it’s time I taught her a lesson.”

Xiahou Dan: “?”

Xiahou Dan: “Please go ahead.”

The Empress Dowager’s nails dug into her palms as she remembered this.

She glanced at Xie Yong’er, her eyes full of disdain. “Why do you look so resentful when you see me, Consort Xie?”

Xie Yong’er shivered and quickly said, “Mother, please calm down. I… I wasn’t feeling well just now.”

The Empress Dowager: “Oh? What ails you? Tell me.”

Xie Yong’er mumbled a few words.

The Empress Dowager didn’t catch it, but suddenly, Xie Yong’er’s face changed, and she rushed to the side, bending over and vomiting loudly.

The Empress Dowager’s brows arched in surprise.

Xie Yong’er continued to retch, unable to stop, tears streaming down her face as she knelt and begged for mercy.

The Empress Dowager, disgusted, waved her hand. “Take her away to rest.”

After the other concubines had left, the Empress Dowager remained seated, leisurely eating longan from a fruit platter.

She softly asked, “Wasn’t she given contraceptive soup?”

There are no secrets in the harem. By noon, everyone knew about Xie Yong’er’s morning sickness. Even Yu Wanyin in the cold palace heard about it that night—from Xiahou Dan himself.

Yu Wanyin raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what this usually means?”

“Pregnancy?” Xiahou Dan shook his head. “That’s the rumor, but I never touched her.”

Yu Wanyin’s expression was complicated.

Xiahou Dan realized: “…Ah.”

Yu Wanyin patted him.

“So, that’s why she’s been pouncing on me like a hungry tiger recently—trying to make me a father?”

His words hit Yu Wanyin’s funny bone. She stifled her laughter and said sympathetically, “It seems so.”

Xiahou Dan was puzzled. “But she drank the contraceptive soup in front of me, a whole cup.”

“That tea had more than just contraceptive herbs—it also contained a mind-numbing drug, which may have caused a reaction that reduced the contraceptive effect. And Xie Yong’er is the protagonist in the original story, with exceptional resilience. She managed to get pregnant despite the Empress Dowager’s and various palace factions’ efforts to prevent it. By the way, the child isn’t yours.”

“Whose is it?”

Yu Wanyin patted him again.

Xiahou Dan was speechless. “Prince Duan was so reckless. I overestimated him.”

“He probably thought it was safe after she drank the contraceptive soup. Even if she did get pregnant, he might have thought he could cover it up. After all, who would believe that you would… remain celibate and refuse to touch her?”

Recalling Xiahou Dan’s reaction upon waking, his expression of “I enjoy killing in my sleep,” Yu Wanyin couldn’t help but smile wryly.

But then she remembered his aversion to Xie Yong’er, and she felt a little pleased.

As a modern adult who didn’t look bad and had dated before transmigrating, Yu Wanyin found it hard to believe Xiahou Dan, an actor from a world full of temptations, remained single.

She didn’t mind the existence of exes. Having a past relationship was one thing; being an emperor and embracing a harem was another.

The former was within the realm of personal feelings, while the latter bordered on moral issues.

Before, she hadn’t paid much attention because she wasn’t emotionally involved.

Now, she was degrading herself. She despised herself.

Xiahou Dan said calmly, “I just don’t like her.”

“You know, you really are a gentleman, a refreshing contrast to the brutality of this palace,” Yu Wanyin half-jokingly praised him.

She didn’t get the expected response.

She looked up, surprised, just in time to catch Xiahou Dan lowering his eyelids. After a delayed moment, he smiled slightly. “Thank you for the compliment. I think so too.”

Yu Wanyin was stunned.

Xiahou Dan rarely showed such a false smile in front of her.

After many weeks of maneuvering, the Empress Dowager, perhaps not wanting to be seen as disregarding the bigger picture, finally agreed to let the Yan envoy enter the court for the celebration.

As autumn deepened, the Ministry of Rites began preparing for the winter festival.

The winter festival, the emperor’s birthday, should have been a grand national celebration. But after the treasury incident, Xiahou Dan proposed austerity, citing the enormous cost of building the Empress Dowager’s tomb, and decided to keep his birthday banquet simple.

The news reached the people, and combined with recent decrees, greatly improved Xiahou Dan’s reputation—how the Empress Dowager reacted to being indirectly criticized was unknown.

Regardless of the austerity, the birthday banquet couldn’t be avoided. This year, besides the ministers, envoys from neighboring small countries were also invited to present gifts.

The Ministry of Rites was extremely busy, and the Astronomical Bureau also had extra work.

Yang Duojie was overwhelmed.

As a new low-level clerk at the Astronomical Bureau, he was assigned the most exhausting tasks—running back and forth between the Ministry of Rites, finalizing auspicious dates, and coordinating ceremonial details.

What frustrated him most was that this work created no real value—it was all about appearances.

Like Li Yunxi, Yang Duojie valued practical work and despised these formalities. While he eloquently argued for an auspicious mealtime in eight different ways, he was miserable and began to question whether joining the court was worth it.

In such a situation, Xiahou Dan ordered at a small group meeting, “Minister Yang, try to get involved in designing the reception process for the Yan envoy with the Ministry of Rites.”

Yang Duojie completely lost it.

Yang Duojie’s way of expressing his frustration was far more artistic than Li Yunxi’s: “Your Majesty, if the Yan envoy comes with ill intentions, no matter how meticulously we host them, it won’t change their hearts.”

Xiahou Dan, expressionless, placed a letter on the table: “This was sent by Wang Zhao shortly before the envoy set out. We received it a few days ago.”

Everyone was shocked after reading it.

Wang Zhao stated that he had changed his plans and would not be returning to Daxia with the envoy. The reason was that King Zhaluo Wahan had been extremely hospitable, repeatedly urging him to stay longer to foster friendship between the two countries.

Erlan murmured, “Brother Wang, he…”

Xiahou Dan: “There has been no other news.”

The officials exchanged worried glances, speechless for a moment.

Anyone with a brain could sense something was off.

Yang Duojie struggled to voice his concern: “Two nations at war do not execute envoys. For Yan not to send Brother Wang back… could it be that he is already…”

Xiahou Dan remained calm: “We never expected them to have good intentions. If they come with hostility, we will counter it. We are not unprepared. That’s why you must participate in their reception, to act as the situation demands.”

The Empress Dowager’s chief maid closely observed Xie Yong’er for a while and reported back: “Consort Xie is acting normally and has not vomited in front of others again. However, she is very cautious. Several times when we tried to give her abortion medicine, she noticed the smell and discarded it immediately.”

The Empress Dowager snorted coldly.

The chief maid quickly knelt and said, “I personally delivered the contraceptive soup to Consort Xie back then. I heard she had a strong reaction after drinking it. Given that, there should have been no mistakes. Perhaps Consort Xie is not pregnant after all…”

“Oh?” The Empress Dowager raised an eyebrow.

The chief maid lowered her voice, “The emperor’s bedroom affairs have always been…difficult. Otherwise, the late crown prince wouldn’t have been so rare.”

The Empress Dowager, thinking of something, chuckled disdainfully: “Useless.”

The chief maid echoed her laughter and crawled over to peel a longan for her: “Sigh, the emperor was frightened by that assassin’s beauty and has struggled ever since.”

The Empress Dowager picked up the plump fruit: “You don’t understand. He knows he’s just a puppet. He disobeys me, so I want a smaller, more obedient puppet. With a young prince, he loses his value.”

The chief maid was astonished: “Are you saying that His Majesty has been pretending all along?”

The Empress Dowager sneered: “Pretending or not, it makes no difference. He still has to obey me. After being a discard for so many years, he finally thinks he’s strong enough to oppose me?”

She bit into the longan, juice splattering: “Negotiations? I’ll make sure they end in chaos.”