The Empress and the Maidservant

Wu Lingxiao froze.

She naturally had not noticed anything unusual about Ying'er. Hearing this, she merely let out a cold laugh.

“Such a mighty figure, yet she’s willing to serve as a maid before you and watch you enjoy yourself with other women. Ha. How ridiculous.”

A flicker of guilt crossed Ye Xuan’s eyes. His voice was low, carrying a rare tenderness.

“That is why I love her. That is why I cherish her.”

Those words completely ignited Wu Lingxiao’s fury.

Her face went deathly pale, then flushed green with anger. Her chest rose and fell violently, murderous intent and jealousy churning in her eyes like a raging storm.

She suddenly swept out her sleeve. Her black-and-gold imperial robes whipped up a gale, and spiritual power surged forth like a tsunami, draining the aura from the entire elevated platform in an instant.

“Ye Xuan! You bastard! Just you wait!”

The side hall’s doors were kicked open.

Wu Lingxiao appeared in the doorway, clad in black-and-gold imperial robes. The red-gold jade pendant carved with a dragon at her waist trembled on its own.

Standing on the threshold, she breathed slightly hard, her hands clenched tightly around her broad sleeves until fine creases appeared along the cuffs.

Inside the palace, a white jade lampstand cast a gentle glow, illuminating the entire side hall with a tranquil, picturesque serenity.

Ying’er sat on a low couch by the window. A small table stood before her, bearing a white porcelain teacup filled with clear tea, thin wisps of steam rising from its surface.

She had turned her face toward a solitary winter plum blossom outside the window. Her expression was calm, and an unworldly serenity permeated her entire being—a tranquility that did not belong in this imperial palace.

She lightly raised the teacup and took a sip. Her voice was soft, carrying a languid, carefree ease.

“Sister’s here.”

Wu Lingxiao stared at her, her gaze sharp as a blade.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to regain the cold authority of an emperor. Then she walked inside and sat down in a chair opposite Ying’er, her voice distant and detached.

“I came today to give you a chance.”

At last, Ying’er turned her head. Her clear eyes rested on Wu Lingxiao’s face, blinking softly. There was no panic in them, only a calm expectation as she waited for Wu Lingxiao to continue—as though the woman sitting before her were not the murderous Empress of Great Xia, but merely the girl next door who had dropped by for a visit.

Wu Lingxiao frowned, feeling the inexplicable irritation in her chest deepen.

She suppressed it without revealing a thing, shifted her gaze slightly aside, and said in a low voice, “I have chosen ten handsome men for you. They are all exceptionally talented and attractive, with spotless family backgrounds—men who would stand out among ten thousand in all of Great Xia. You need only choose a few to remain here in the side hall and serve you. From now on, I will provide everything you need. Food, clothing, and all your expenses will be covered. Whatever you want, I will give you.”

She paused, then turned her gaze back to Ying’er’s face. Her tone remained calm, though it concealed a faint probe.

“Isn’t that better than clinging to that demon?”

Ying’er did not answer at once. She simply lowered her head, glanced at the white porcelain teacup in her hands, and took another small sip.

Then she raised her eyes and said lightly, “I only want my husband.”

Wu Lingxiao had expected that answer, but hearing it for real still sent an unnamed flame surging through her heart. She drew in a breath, her voice suddenly turning three degrees colder.

“Are you truly incapable of recognizing a good offer, or are you deliberately pretending not to?”

Ying’er tilted her head slightly, a trace of confusion appearing in her expression. It was genuine confusion—pure and free of the slightest hint of mockery.

“Why would Sister want me to recognize such an offer?”

“What’s so good about Ye Xuan?”

A fury bordering on gritted teeth entered Wu Lingxiao’s voice. She leaned forward, bracing both hands on the small table and bringing her stern imperial features closer. Her gaze was as sharp as a blade.

“He’s scheming to the bone. He uses forbidden arts to control women and will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. By staying at his side, you’ll sooner or later become a pawn for him to move around at will. Once he’s had his fun with you, he’ll discard you like a worn-out shoe.”

“Do you truly believe he’s worth guarding for the rest of your life?”

Ying’er was not intimidated by her aggressive presence. She simply sat there in silence, lightly holding her teacup, her voice gentle yet certain.

“I know.”

Wu Lingxiao paused. “You know what?”

“Everything you said. I know it all.”

Ying’er lowered her lashes. In her eyes was the clear understanding of someone who had witnessed many things and chosen to accept them calmly.

“My husband has done many cruel things. He is cold toward some people and indifferent to certain relationships. He has his schemes, his ambitions, and methods that make it difficult to say whether he is right or wrong.”

She raised her eyes and looked directly at Wu Lingxiao.

“But so what?”

“So what?” Wu Lingxiao repeated the words, almost convinced that the girl was talking nonsense.

“I love all of him.”

Ying’er’s voice grew even calmer, carrying an openness that left no room for argument.

“That includes the parts of him that aren’t good. When you were with him, Sister, you probably only wanted the Ye Xuan who treated you well, but refused to accept the flawed Ye Xuan as well. That’s why loving him was so painful, so torn apart.”

Wu Lingxiao felt as though something had lodged in her chest, leaving her unable to speak.

She straightened and gave a cold snort. With a sweep of her sleeve, her voice once again became stern and imperial.

“I’ll say it one more time. If you refuse, I can only resort to force. And when that happens, things may become unpleasant.”

Ying’er remained perfectly at ease, not even changing her posture. She merely set down her teacup, tilted her head slightly, and asked a question Wu Lingxiao had never expected.

“You’ve had so many handsome men before. Why did you kill some and drive others away as soon as you pleased?”

Her voice was light, without the slightest trace of mockery, but filled with curiosity.

The question was like a fine needle, striking precisely at a tender place in Wu Lingxiao’s heart—a place she had never revealed to anyone.

Her entire body stiffened for a moment. The icy momentum she had brought with her after kicking open the palace doors seemed to be quietly seized by an invisible hand, weakening by several degrees.

She fell silent for a moment. A trace of bewilderment, so faint that she herself did not notice it, passed across her noble, coldly beautiful face.

Then she let out a cold laugh. Her voice was indifferent, carrying a deliberate carelessness.

“Because they were not the ones I loved. They were merely objects of temporary desire. Once that desire faded, there was naturally no reason to keep them.”

Ying’er gently nodded, her expression indifferent, as though she had received exactly the answer she expected.

She did not take the opportunity to mock Wu Lingxiao. Instead, she lifted her teacup and spoke slowly.

“I’m different from you.”

She gazed at her reflection in the tea, her voice soft and calm, as though stating the most ordinary fact in the world.

“My love and my desire belong entirely to my husband. As for other men—let alone touching me, even having them come near me makes me sick.”

She raised her eyes and looked directly at Wu Lingxiao. Her clear gaze held no arrogance or boastfulness, only a pure, open, and unshakable certainty.

“So, Sister, to me, the ten handsome men you sent are no different from ten ordinary stones.”

Wu Lingxiao stared at her. An indescribable emotion—part irritation, part jealousy—rose within her, roiling until her chest felt stifled.

She took a deep breath, her voice cold.

“I truly cannot understand your way of thinking.”

“Of course,” Ying’er said, setting down her teacup, her expression still composed. “Because we have chosen two entirely different paths.”

Wu Lingxiao let out a cold snort, her gaze suddenly turning sharp. “Men in this world can keep harems and take as many wives and concubines as they please. Women can do the same. I am the Empress, the ruler of the realm. My harem of handsome men is merely a privilege I am entitled to enjoy. What is there to criticize?”

Her tone was forceful—a force born of long habit, of being obeyed and affirmed by all around her.

Yet Ying’er did not bow her head.

She simply listened in silence, then said calmly, without haste:

“Women can indeed keep harems, but they must treat those in them with genuine sincerity.”

She gazed at Wu Lingxiao, her eyes calm yet filled with compassion.

“But, Sister… have you truly done right by any of them?”