Chapter 390 The Princess from the Cold Palace Who Was Sent to the Throne (1)
[This story was asked to be rewritten, so one chapter has been split into two pages. The total word count remains the same. The revision will be completed as soon as possible, and it should be changed back after the hype dies down.]
(The emperor was incompetent and indulged in wine and women all day long. None of his concubines could give birth to a child.
When the emperor, whose body had been hollowed out by alcohol and sex, was dying, he suddenly realized that he had no heir to the throne, and he felt panic in his heart.
But at this time, the court had already been firmly controlled by the prime minister and generals, one civil and one military. They each held political and military power and were eyeing the throne covetously.
Just when the emperor felt all hopeless, his most trusted eunuch, Jiuqiansui, made a suggestion to him, reminding him of the little princess who was forgotten in the cold palace.
Because her biological mother was a dancer favored by the emperor after drinking, she was despised because her status was too low.
Over time, it was forgotten by the emperor.
But at this time, in order to prevent the throne of the Ning Dynasty from falling into the hands of another family, the emperor left a final decree...
In this world, he is the first civil official to be appointed as prime minister, the first military official to be granted the title of Wolf's Lair, and the eunuch Jiuqiansui who can call a deer a horse.
The ambitious man bowed his head for love, offered the country as a betrothal gift, and submitted to the empress.
Ps: This article contains some minor plots of women dressing up as men~
One person manipulates the heroine to disguise herself as a man, one person recognizes the heroine disguised as a man, and one person is kept in the dark and thinks he is gay.
[This is a fictional world, the author has many personal settings, please don’t delve into it~]
In the bedroom, the aroma of ambergris and the smell of medicine were intertwined and lingered.
Ning Mingxu's skinny fingers tightly grasped the bright yellow quilt, as if trying to grasp the last ray of life, and a dying gurgling sound came from his throat.
Outside the hall, thunder exploded as if it was going to tear the sky apart, deafening everyone.
The rain was like a curtain, and the sound of the night watchman knocking the gong seemed particularly abrupt in the thunder and lightning, as if it was a death warrant from the underworld. The candle on the table shook violently, and the flame trembled in the wind, making his sunken eye sockets look even more eerie and terrifying.
The imperial physician diagnosed that the emperor would not survive the night.
The flame on the gilded candlestick flickered in the night wind, as if it would be blown out at any time, and the weak firelight distorted the shadow on the dragon bed, like an evil ghost with bared fangs and claws.
Ning Mingxu's withered fingers tightly grasped the bright yellow quilt, his nails digging deep into his palms but he felt no pain.
Outside the hall, sobbing sounds came one after another. The civil and military officials were dressed in court robes, and their official boots rustled on the blue bricks. They had solemn expressions, lowered their heads, and knelt silently in front of the hall.
The concubines in the harem were dressed in plain clothes, and their rings and bracelets jingled, but the crisp sound was mixed with suppressed sobs.
These sounds penetrated the heavy vermilion lacquer door and flooded into the bedroom like a cold tide, but they could not dispel the smell of rotting meat mixed with medicine in the tent.
Ning Mingxu suddenly started coughing violently, and the fishy-sweet blood foam splashed on the pillowcase embroidered with a golden dragon, forming dark red flowers.
The emperor lived an absurd life and had countless concubines in his harem, but only before his death did he seem to realize how absurd he had been.
There were countless concubines in the harem, but none of them could leave behind offspring.
Because of the emperor's indulgence and the concubines' fighting, if a concubine became pregnant, she would soon have a miscarriage due to the intrigues and open and secret struggles in the harem.
Ning Mingxu used to not care about this at all. He always thought that he had many concubines and losing one or two princes would not be a big deal.
However, when he was shocked to find that none of the concubines in the palace could leave him with a dragon seed, he finally woke up from his dream.
His Ning Dynasty is about to end.
Thinking of this, Ning Mingxu couldn't help but feel sad and his eyes filled with tears.
Tears streamed down his old cheeks and he sobbed uncontrollably.
He reigned for many years without any noteworthy achievements. He was obsessed with the pleasures of the harem and neglected state affairs.
The reason why the Ning Dynasty has been able to survive to this day is entirely due to the strategic planning of Prime Minister Wen Youwen and the stabilization of the country by General Wu Youchi.
And within this harem, the emperor also had an extremely trusted eunuch who handled various trivial matters for him.
As a result, the emperor enjoyed his leisure time and did not care about state affairs.
It was not until his death that Ning Mingxu realized how much harm such a life had brought him.
His dynasty had no successor, and the Prime Minister was extremely powerful, holding absolute power and controlling the entire court.
The military power was firmly held in the hands of the general, like an iron barrel that no water could penetrate.
The emperor, who was once high and mighty, has now been sidelined and has nothing.
Oh no, he still has people loyal to him!
His most favored Jinyiwei...
As if thinking of something, the emperor let out a hoarse sound from his already dry throat.
"Ahem... He Qing..." Ning Mingxu used all his strength to call out the name, a fishy and sweet taste surging in his throat.
A slight rustling sound of fabric rubbing against each other came from outside the curtain, followed by the crisp sound of gilded curtain hooks colliding.
Obviously, someone heard the emperor's movements and was slowly walking towards the dragon bed.
Soon, the footsteps were getting closer and closer, and finally, a slender hand gently pulled open the curtains on the dragon bed.
Before his death, the emperor did not let any concubine or minister see his terrifying and pitiful appearance.
But despite this, he still left behind one person - his most beloved eunuch and the current leader of the Jinyiwei, the Nine Thousand Years Old He Liming.
The person who opened the curtain had a cold look in his eyes, but it couldn't hide his good looks.
In the light of the gilded palace lantern, He Liming's figure was elongated and projected onto the Panlong Pillar, like a winding red snake.
The hem of his Feiyu suit was embellished with fine silver nails, which sparkled like broken stars as he walked. The leather belt around his waist was buckled with a gold-plated and silver-inlaid buckle, and the engraved cloud-thunder pattern was embedded with a pigeon-blood ruby. It swayed slightly with his steps, emitting an enchanting halo.
The moon-white brocade lining is faintly visible between the wide sleeves, and the cuffs are embroidered with lotus patterns using peacock feather thread. The patterns have smooth lines and delicate stitching. They are complex and gorgeous, yet reveal a touch of elegance inadvertently.
He casually draped the black cloak over his shoulders. The dark satin of the cloak was embroidered with patterns of sea water and river cliffs. These patterns meandered and extended all the way to his ankles, as if the surging sea and the towering cliffs were intertwined.
The gilded python-patterned buckle firmly grips the collar, like a dormant beast, ready to open its bloody mouth at any time.
The handle of the Embroidered Spring Sword was wrapped in scarlet shark silk, and the turquoise inlaid on the scabbard echoed with He Liming's amber pupils.
When he lowered his eyes, his long, thick eyelashes cast fan-shaped shadows under his eyes, and the tails of his eyes were slightly raised.
The moment she opened her eyes, her amber pupils shone with the luster of glass, and there was a cinnabar mole at the corner of her eye, which spread as she smiled, making her three times more gorgeous than the peonies blooming under the palace wall.
The corners of his lips were slightly raised, and between them there was a hint of sarcasm and a subtle temptation, which made people's hearts flutter.
The face was so white that it was almost transparent, as if it was carefully carved from the finest mutton-fat jade, exuding a cold and noble beauty.
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