【The Emperor's style in every world is different, and they are all handsome guys. You can project anyone into the role, just not the big fat tangerine. The reason will be explained later.】

The candlelight by the couch was gently swayed by the night breeze, and the orange light threads faintly flowed across Yueling's sweat-dampened temples, dyeing that thin blush even more enchanting.

Yueling curled up in the bright yellow brocade quilt, her spine tensing into a slender arc. The silk gripped by her fingertips was twisted into deep and shallow folds, and even her voice was trembling, shattering into broken, intermittent breathy sounds: "Y-Your Majesty... I... I really cannot take it anymore... S-Spare Ronger..."

Half of the ending sound was swallowed by a suppressed sob, and the dampness clinging to her eyelashes fell in a flurry, splashing onto the back of his hand. That trace of coolness suddenly drilled into the skin and flesh, causing a slight shudder.

The emperor's fingertips were pressed against her reddened chin, exerting a slight force, forcing her to raise her face.

The pads of his fingers brushed across her slightly parted lips, touching that scorching softness. His Adam's apple rolled involuntarily, and a tight itch spread across his throat.

He lowered his gaze to look at the person beneath him, looking at those moisture-laden eyes and that reddened tip of her nose. His gaze was as deep as aged wine, and even his voice was wrapped in a somewhat husky magnetism: "Be a good girl, Ronger."

As his words fell, he leaned down, his warm breath brushing past Yueling's reddened auricle, carrying a scent mixed with pine branches and ink fragrance, lingering and irresistible: "One last time."

Yueling's breathing suddenly lost its rhythm, and her slender wrist was gripped in his palm. She struggled twice, only to be gripped even tighter. Where their knuckles met, it was so hot it felt like it was burning.

His kisses fell, from behind her ears to the side of her neck, carrying a scorching temperature, yet his movements were slow, as slow as if he were meticulously tracing a painting he couldn't bear to finish.

Yueling was trembling all over, the red at the corners of her eyes spreading all the way to the roots of her ears. Even her plea for mercy was so soft that it lacked strength, turning into a fragmented moan: "R-Really can't hold on anymore... Mm..."

The emperor let out a low chuckle, the laughter muffled in the crook of her neck, making her fingertips tingle from the vibration.

He raised his hand to wipe away the tears on her cheek, but his fingertips intentionally scraped lightly across her reddened eye corners, carrying a bit of casual teasing that caused her to shudder lightly once again.

"Be good," he repeated, the laughter in his voice tinged with a lingering tenderness, "I will be gentler."

Yueling's voice was intermittent; amidst the emperor's incessant thrusting and dense, meticulous kisses, it slowly spilled out from Yueling's ravaged, red, and swollen vermilion lips. Her soft and melodious voice carried a hint of hoarseness and desire, blending with the emperor's occasional muffled groans and coaxing words, intermittently drifting out from behind the layers of bright yellow bed curtains...

The palace attendants keeping watch outside lowered their heads one by one, silently doing their own tasks—boiling water, burning incense, and organizing clothes. Everything was in order. If one ignored their occasionally delayed movements and slightly flustered footsteps, one would really think they were made of wood and felt nothing!

And Su Peisheng, standing respectfully to the side, felt even more turbulent in his heart. Ever since serving the emperor back in the prince's residence until now, he had never seen the emperor so indulgent. This noble lady was truly extraordinary!

To be able to make the emperor break convention and call for water five times, with still no sign of stopping, was something that had never happened before. Even in his youth, he was extremely restrained. With other empresses and noble ladies, he usually called for water at most three times, and most of the time only once or twice. From now on, when serving this noble lady, they must be even more attentive. Judging by this posture, her favor was likely to last a long time, and she must never be neglected.

It's just that after having such a fascinating person, whether Jinxi's choice is good or bad remains to be seen...

"Su Peisheng, call for water..." The emperor's voice came from the inner room. Su Peisheng instantly snapped back to his senses, tightened his skin, and hurriedly called people forward to serve, thinking that it was finally over. If it didn't end soon, the emperor wouldn't rest well, his energy would be lacking tomorrow, and he himself would have a hard time.

"Quick, quick, all of you move, be faster, be nimble with your hands and feet, hurry up and serve Your Majesty to rest." Following Su Peisheng's words, the palace attendants acted in an orderly manner...

Soon, everything was tidied up. The emperor held Yueling to wash up, lay down on the newly changed bedding, embraced the sweet and soft person in his arms, and fell into a deep sleep...

Early in the morning, the mild and non-glaring sunlight poured down through the exquisite lattice windows, scattering upon the beauty quietly sleeping on the bed, serene and beautiful...

Her temples and hair were disheveled, a few strands of sweat-dampened dark hair clinging to her forehead. The skin on the side of her neck was white tinged with pink, vaguely revealing a few faint red marks, like fallen petals of broken plum blossoms.

Her slender eyebrows were relaxed, the curve of her brows as soft as a new moon, and her eyelashes drooped, casting steady, light shadows.

Her nose tip was petite, the corners of her lips bore a natural blush, half-puckered to hide last night's shyness.

Her moon-white nightgown slipped to her shoulders, exposing her slender collarbones. A light red finger mark beside her bone hollow had not yet faded, and following down her neck line, sporadic kiss marks were faintly visible inside her collar.

Her figure beneath the quilt was frail, her waist narrow and slender, the curves of her spine soft, with only her chest rising and falling lightly.

Those ambiguous traces, mixed with undissipated fatigue, were like a few drops of cinnabar falling on snow, making her appear even more frail and fragile, so much so that even her breathing was light for fear of startling anyone.

"My Lady, My Lady, please wake up quickly. It is almost time to pay respects to the Empress. After returning to the palace from paying respects, you can continue sleeping..." Tingxin prepared the clothes and jewelry, leaned over Yueling's ear, and gently called out to the beauty who had not yet gotten up.

Hearing Tingxin's call, Yueling's eyelashes trembled. She slowly opened her eyes, sat up gradually, and feeling the soreness and discomfort in her body, took advantage of when no one was paying attention to quickly pop a pill into her mouth. Then she got up and let Tingxin help her wash and dress, while her thoughts gradually drifted far away...

Yueling had come to this sub-world derived from The Legend of Zhen Huan for almost four months now. She was now An Lingrong, and last night was her first time serving in the emperor's bed. It was a good start; the first step to eliminating An Lingrong's resentment had already been taken...

Yueling was the most dazzling existence under the spotlight, and the halo of a powerhouse top star had never made her rein in even a bit of her unrestrained and flamboyant nature.

Her beauty carried a sharp edge, the corners of her eyes slightly upturned, and her pupil color bright as if tempered with starlight. When she smiled, the arc of the corners of her lips carried a bit of casual arrogance, as if she were naturally born to stand at the highest place to receive adoration.

On the red carpet, she could outshine the entire venue in a red dress, and in street snapshots, even a simple white T-shirt and jeans could not hide her dazzling aura. Every single moment captured by the lens exuded the vibrancy and flamboyance of "I am the center," a dazzling presence that even the wind would pause for.

When her parents passed away, Yueling was still clutching half a piece of uneaten candy. It was her older brother who protected her in his arms and propped up the family with his shoulders that still carried the air of youth.

He worked several jobs to support her in learning arts, stepped on the snow on winter nights to send her to dance practice, and though his hands were frozen with chilblains, he always stuffed a hot water bottle into her bag.

The first thing he taught her was independence — if she fell, she was not allowed to cry; she had to climb up herself and pat off the dust.

The things she wanted had to be earned by her own ability, and she couldn't stretch out her hand waiting for others to give them.

Later, she entered the entertainment industry, and he became her "invisible backing": helping her screen out resources with ulterior motives, teaching her to see through the hypocrisy and snobbery of the vanity fair, and even taking scripts to analyze them word by word, reminding her that "romance scenes are work, and falling in love is a weakness."

He never let her depend on him, yet he was there at every critical moment.

When she was so nervous during her first time on stage that she forgot her lines, it was he in the backstage mouthing words to cheer her on.

When she was attacked by anti-fans, he stayed up all night organizing evidence without ever letting her know.

He polished her sharp edges bit by bit, letting her maintain her sharpness while also teaching her to hide it, watching her grow from a timid little girl into a top star who could be unrestrained, flamboyant, and command universal attention under the spotlight.

He always said, "My younger sister should stand at the highest place," yet when she truly shone brightly, he quietly stepped back behind her.

She originally thought they had finally reached the end of their bitterness and the beginning of sweetness, and would accompany each other and live happily together, until her brother disappeared without warning, hurriedly leaving behind only the words "We will meet again," which caused that dazzling sharpness to suddenly recede and transform into the deep-seated certainty hidden in her eyes.

She was sober and rational, gentle yet hiding her edge. She did not throw tantrums; a slight ripple flashed across her eyes before returning to normal.

At that moment, she looked so much like him.

Outsiders could not see the raging waves in her heart, knowing only that that promise had become the steadiest anchor, allowing her to remain calm — whatever was meant to come would come, whether she waited or searched, it was all out of certainty.

She was not clear where her brother had gone, but she knew that her brother would never abandon her for no reason. Deep in her heart, she had a faint premonition, understanding that her brother was not a person of this world, and the moment they met again, everything would surface.

Gradually, she withdrew from the stage, turned behind the scenes, sorted out everything at hand, and made clean cuts.