"Yanyan?" Yinzhen asked, his voice still hoarse.

Qian Shengyan began to doubt herself. Could it be that Yinzhen was really sick? He sounded like he had a cold.

But she still responded, "Yes, Your Majesty, I am here."

"Yanyan".

"Your Majesty, I am here."

"Is that you, Yan Yan?"

"...It is your concubine, Your Majesty!"

"Yanyan?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Yanyan".

"emperor."

"I know, it's you."

After throwing out this nonsensical remark, Yinzhen pressed down on Qian Shengyan without giving her a chance to speak.

They spent a warm spring night in the boudoir, and from then on, the emperor no longer held morning court.

—No, not really. Yinzhen spent the whole day in bed with her, and in the evening he called all his children over to take a closer look at them, scrutinizing each one until they were all a little uneasy before letting them go home.

However, Qian Shengyan was too tired, and she had already fallen asleep when Yinzhen called the children. When she woke up again, she was told that the emperor had gone to court.

"Didn't you send a message to Imperial Physician Liu to have His Majesty see the diagnosis?" Qian Shengyan asked, her voice hoarse and even more unpleasant than Yinzhen's from yesterday.

She was startled and covered her throat. Her first thought was—was it because Yinzhen was acting so strangely yesterday morning because he had a lustful dream instead of a nightmare?

Unbeknownst to her, at this very moment, the ministers in the imperial court were experiencing what Hongli and the others had gone through the previous night—they were being scrutinized one by one by the silent and unmoving emperor, their faces breaking out in a cold sweat.