Molten
Inside the Phoenix Palace, it was so quiet that the faint crackling of the candlelight could be heard.
Ling Zhan's gaze swept over the pile of reports on her desk, finally landing on the parchment scroll marked "Urgent Report on the Southeast Japanese Pirates." Her fingertips pressed on the names "Shen Yu, Shen Xing, and Shen Chen," the pressure almost piercing the paper.
Those insidious schemes and power struggles within the harem, that silent, pervasive poison, now seemed utterly insignificant and utterly tiresome in her eyes. Her battlefield should never have been these square palace walls. The glimmer of Star Core Zero awaited nourishment atop Qingzhou Mountain, while her children fought and bled on the true battlefield.
A burning desire to return home, mixed with anxiety for the safety of her adopted children, ignited fiercely within her.
It dispelled some of the icy chill that had been lingering for days.
She suddenly stood up, her movement creating a gust of wind that stirred the lamplight.
"Wanxing, prepare armor. Pack light and leave the palace immediately."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable decisiveness; it was the commanding tone of Space Marine Ling Zhan, not the voice of Empress Ling Zhan.
Wanxing's heart skipped a beat, but she had no doubts: "Yes!"
However, Ling Zhan's movements were always under the control of another person.
Before she even stepped out of the palace gates, Wei Jin's figure appeared inside the Phoenix Palace, carrying the chill of the night dew and suppressed anger.
When Wei Jin stepped into the palace, he felt this unusual, imposing, and murderous aura.
His gaze instantly locked onto the memorial on the table, the ink still wet, requesting permission to go to war.
And Ling Zhan, who was tightening his wristband.
A surge of icy rage instantly welled up in his heart, almost burning away his reason.
"You're going to the southeast?" His voice suppressed a storm.
"yes."
Ling Zhan did not turn around, his tone calm but unquestionable, "The threat of the Japanese pirates is no small matter, and Yu'er is there too. They need support."
Wei Jin stared intently at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and hate: "I offered my empire as a dowry, yet I cannot even obtain a single drop of your bloodline? Ling Zhan, are you doing this to quell the rebellion, or for your precious adopted sons!" His words, spoken without restraint, were sharp and cutting, fueled by jealousy and the fear of being easily abandoned by her once again.
Ling Zhan paused in his movement of the wristband, finally turning to look at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of weariness and understanding: "My battlefield is in the stars and the sea, in protecting the peace and prosperity of this world, not in the maternity ward. Wei Jin, they are our children. Your doubts at this moment are an insult to me, and to all of them."
"Alright...alright! Go! I grant your permission!"
Wei Jin suddenly grabbed her wrist, his grip so tight it almost crushed her bones, his eyes blazing with a desperate possessiveness: "But before you leave, you should at least fulfill your duties as Empress! Seven days, I want you for seven days!"
He didn't give her a chance to argue, and suddenly lowered his head to kiss her—
It was a kiss filled with anger, punishment, and a long-buried, burning desire, rough and brooking no refusal.
Ling Zhan hesitated for a moment, then finally closed his eyes, as if enduring a storm he had to go through.
For the next seven days, after nightfall, only suppressed breathing and silent struggle remained in the bedchamber. Wei Jin possessed her almost predatoryly, attempting to etch the mark of an emperor deep into her soul. Ling Zhan, for the first time, completely relinquished control, like the deepest ocean swallowing all the storms, leaving only a few silent red marks on her back in the most intense moments. In this almost savage intimacy, they both discovered, horrified, an unfathomable desire capable of burning each other to ashes.
She was surprised to find that her body had remembered his scent before her will.
On the seventh night, the storm subsided.
Exhausted, I lay in silence, the air thick with the scent of desire and a more complex, indescribable tension.
Something was broken, yet something else burned intensely in the ashes, making them unable to look each other in the eye.
Before dawn, Ling Zhan quietly got up.
The man beside me was breathing steadily, seemingly exhausted and asleep.
Without the slightest hesitation, she quickly dressed herself, took one last look at the blurry silhouette in the curtains, and resolutely turned away.
The palace gates opened and closed quietly.
On the bed, Wei Jin slowly opened his eyes, his gaze clear and melancholy, showing no sign of sleepiness.
He listened as the faint footsteps faded into the distance until they disappeared, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug deep into his flesh.
Ling Zhan mounted his steed, with Wan Xing following closely behind.
A troop of light cavalry silently rode out of the palace, treading through the deepest darkness before dawn.
They sped off towards the southeast, towards the land of war.
The palaces and towers were left far behind.
The eunuchs carefully tidied up Fengyi Palace, and Wei Jin waved for them to leave.
He paced through the empty hall, his fingertips tracing the soft couch where she often sat, touching a slightly hard surface—an old leather wristband, its edges worn, with a faint scorch mark on the inside, as if it had been momentarily grazed by some extremely high energy. He recognized it; it belonged to her long ago and had never left her side.
Wei Jin gripped the wristband tightly, as if a trace of her scent and that vast, mysterious past he hadn't fully participated in still lingered on it. He suddenly remembered that in Linshan County, even repairing her courtyard required him to adhere to that white line. Back then, he felt that being able to stand outside the line and look up was already a blessing.
After Ling Zhan left the capital, the palace was like a sophisticated machine that had lost its core; it still functioned, but it had lost its soul.
Wei Jin sat behind the large imperial desk, his vermilion brush hovering in mid-air, not falling for a long time.
The words on the memorial were blurred and illegible, and the only sound was the monotonous ticking of the water clock, striking the excessively silent hall.
He tried to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting to the smoke-filled sea to the southeast. He wanted to know how the battle was going, and even more so... whether she was alright. This worry tormented him, more unbearable than the cold.
"Your Majesty," a eunuch's cautious voice broke the silence, "Miss Qin has sent over freshly brewed pre-Qingming Longjing tea, saying it has a calming effect..."
Wei Jin raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the celadon teacup before landing on Qin Ru, who stood respectfully outside the hall, her figure slender and graceful. She still had that timid, pitiful look, her eyes lowered, trying to gain a bit of attention with the most perfect etiquette.
But for some reason, Wei Jin felt a strange sense of irritation.
This cautiousness, this deliberately cultivated "understanding" demeanor, now seemed so bland, even... artificial. She wasn't that person; that person would never look at him like that. That person would only stare at him with calm, unwavering eyes, or confront him with icy silence.
"I am not thirsty."
His voice was hoarse. "By imperial decree, Qin Ru has served diligently and is hereby transferred to the Secretariat of the Imperial Palace. She no longer needs to serve before the Emperor."
The eunuch was taken aback, but quickly agreed.
Qin Ru, standing outside the hall, seemed to have heard it as well. Her body swayed almost imperceptibly, her face turning deathly pale. She dared not utter a word, bowing deeply and retreating silently. The bright yellow figure disappeared at the end of the palace path, taking with it the last ripple in Wei Jin's heart caused by the rumors—it turned out that, stripped of all the illusions, she was utterly insignificant to him.
He summoned Shen Zhangwu several more times.
This little bull, who used to be a bit impulsive and hot-blooded, would loudly call him "Your Majesty, Father."
Now she bows respectfully, answers questions with a single sentence, and occasionally glances at him before quickly looking down again, with a restrained and... distant air about her.
The only remaining form of address is "Your Majesty," with "Father" no longer used.
This little bull was also affected by that silent storm and the cold war between the emperor and empress.
Has he learned to read people's expressions? Or is he dissatisfied with himself?
Wei Jin waved Shen Zhangwu away, watching the boy's retreating figure as if he had breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a sense of desolation in his heart.
He suddenly realized that in this vast Forbidden City, among thousands of officials and servants, there was not a single person he could speak to.
Beneath those submissive, fearful, obsequious, or ulterior-motive-laden faces, he couldn't find a single person who wanted to argue, question, or even just quietly exchange glances.
A chilling sense of loneliness, like the cold dew of late autumn, seeped into his very bones.
In the end, he found himself walking towards the Imperial Observatory.
Xuan Chenzi was dozing off in front of a huge star chart, his snores soft. Wei Jin didn't bother to announce his arrival, but simply dismissed his attendants, dragged a chair over, and sat opposite the old Taoist priest, staring blankly at the sky outside the window, which was not yet completely dark.
For the first two days, he still maintained the airs of an emperor, only summoning Xuan Chenzi to the imperial study to "consult the stars" and ask high-sounding questions such as "Is the Ziwei star bright?" and "Is there any evil energy in the southeast?"
Xuan Chenzi stroked his beard and dealt with the situation with a set of official jargon: "The celestial phenomena are vast and concerned with the fate of the nation, but the details are difficult to fully discern."
But starting from the third day, Wei Jin simply dismissed his attendants and wandered off to the Imperial Observatory's duty room, which was filled with ancient books, compasses, and star charts.
Xuan Chenzi was dozing off while looking at a newly drawn "Autumn Equinox Star Field Map," and his drool almost dripped onto the Pleiades star official.
Suddenly a voice came from behind: "What do you think, Chief Supervisor, the meaning of this small, flickering star next to the General Star, signify?"
The old Taoist priest jolted awake and turned around to see His Majesty the Emperor standing silently behind him, pointing to a spot in the southeast of the map with a furrowed brow and a solemn expression, as if that insignificant auxiliary star was related to the safety of the nation.
Xuan Chenzi: "..."
He wiped the drool from his mouth and patiently explained, "Your Majesty, this is the auxiliary star 'Guan,' which is not very bright to begin with. It is normal for it to appear and disappear intermittently. In my opinion..."
"normal?"
Wei Jin interrupted him, his gaze still fixed on the star. "I observe that its light is dim, as if shrouded in gloom. Could this be an indication that there is a villain among the commander-in-chief? Or is the command ineffective?"
Xuan Chenzi's lips twitched: "Your Majesty, that was just an ordinary one..."
"Take another look."
Without saying a word, Wei Jin dragged a chair over and sat down in front of the star chart, as if to say, "I'm not leaving until you figure out whether it's auspicious or inauspicious."
Xuan Chenzi had no choice but to bite the bullet and calculate for a long time before helplessly saying, "Your Majesty, the celestial phenomena are not abnormal, this star..."
"Perhaps I have misjudged."
Wei Jin suddenly pointed to another spot, "What about this one? The one in the southwest of the Imperial Star, its light seems to be a little weaker?"
Xuan Chenzi looked in that direction and saw a star that was completely out of reach.
He could no longer contain himself: "Your Majesty! That's the constellation Jing! It governs mountains, forests, and waters! It has nothing to do with the war in the southeast or... or the imperial star!"
Wei Jin said "Oh," paused for a moment, and then asked, "Are there any special celestial phenomena we need to pay attention to recently? For example... wind direction? tides?"
Xuan Chenzi: "..." Your Majesty, the Imperial Observatory does not handle weather forecasts, but the navy has its own methods of observation.
And so it went, day after day. Wei Jin always found an excuse to come.
Sometimes they would come with a trivial record of the weather in a southeastern prefecture or county and ask, "Does it correspond to the celestial phenomena?"
Sometimes, when he was tired of reviewing memorials, he would come to the Imperial Observatory to "change his mindset," and then sit facing the star chart for half an hour, occasionally letting out a sigh that was not quite meaningful; sometimes he would not say anything at all, but just sit by the window, watching Xuan Chenzi fiddling with those observation instruments, his eyes vacant, obviously his mind had already flown to the ends of the earth.
What made Xuan Chenzi's scalp tingle the most was that Wei Jin started bringing his own tea and snacks.
That day, he brought over a pot of freshly brewed rock sugar pear soup from the imperial kitchen and personally poured a bowl for Xuan Chenzi: "Autumn dryness, Supervisor, please moisten your throat."
The old Taoist priest accepted the gift with a flattered expression. He had just taken a sip when he heard His Majesty the Emperor ask, seemingly casually, "The Imperial Observer is well-versed in astrology and can know a person's destiny star. If a person is far from the Emperor's star, will its brilliance dim because it has nothing to rely on, or will it shine even brighter because of its own intense heat?"
"puff--"
Xuan Chenzi almost spat out a mouthful of pear soup onto the star map.
Your Majesty, if you want to know whether the Empress is doing well without you, just say so! Aren't you tired of going through all this trouble?!
On another occasion, Wei Jin came over with a book called "The Atlas of Navigation Stars," pointed to a blurry "foreign star map" on it, and asked: "Supervisor, how does this Westerners' division of the star field differ from ours? Do they know about 'Gouchen' and 'Nüxiu'? If at sea, could they accurately locate themselves using this star map? What would the error be? Would they... get lost?"
Looking at the crookedly drawn constellation chart, and then at His Majesty the Emperor's earnest yet actually delusional gaze, Xuan Chenzi felt his Dao heart about to waver.
He finally understood that Wei Jin hadn't come to see the stars at all; he was just talking to himself and using the occasion as an excuse to ramble on.
In this vast palace, only he, an outsider, could listen to His Majesty the Emperor's roundabout way of expressing his unspoken worries, anxieties, and regrets.
Until that day, Wei Jin murmured to the star chart, "Mars guards the heart, the master of war... I wonder if the general star is safe," which completely ignited the old Taoist's resentment that had been building up for many days.
Xuan Chenzi, unable to bear it any longer, grabbed his whisk and flicked it angrily: "Look! Look! Look! You emperor, you come here to look at the stars every day! Can the stars tell you whether Ling'er has gained or lost weight? Can they tell you whether her old back injury still hurts on rainy days?"
Wei Jin was suddenly startled: "Her... old injury?"
Xuan Chenzi was even angrier: "Look! You don't know anything! You're only focused on your own grievances! If you want to know, why don't you send an urgent message to ask? Why don't you send secret guards to protect you? What can you possibly do by staring at this star map of mine?"
Wei Jin was stunned when he was sprayed with spittle all over his face.
Xuan Chenzi grew angrier as he spoke, pointing his finger at his nose: "If you ask me, you deserve it! Back in Linshan County, at 'Shan Hai Su,' did that girl Ling ever show you any concern or tenderness? Every time, you had to beg and plead, even when the courtyard was as solid as an iron barrel and you still couldn't get in, when you brought her a bowl of bird's nest soup and it was returned untouched, and when you wanted to have a meal together, you had to beg and plead. Didn't you feel wronged back then? Didn't you feel that she wasn't 'understanding' enough?"
Wei Jin opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found that his throat was blocked by something.
Those distant yet vivid memories surged up—he waited outside the white line with a food box in his hand, he watched her chop wood without daring to help, he excitedly went to show off Xiao Shitou's recitation of "Prodigy Poems" but was scolded... At that time, he only felt that she was different from others, felt awe, and even enjoyed it.
Xuan Chenzi's words, however, were like a blunt knife, piercing the truth he had deliberately ignored.
"What? Now that you're the emperor, you've become so delicate? You insist that everyone revolve around you, trying to guess your holy will, and soothing your 'dragon heart' wounded by rumors? Shen Yan, put your hand on your heart and tell me, are you the kind of person who absolutely needs a biological heir? Are you fixated on having offspring, or on that attention of hers that you're not entirely confident you can control?"
The old Taoist's voice was like a booming bell, making his eardrums buzz.
"You're just asking for trouble! You think life is too smooth and you have to stir things up! Who is Ling Zhan? She's always been the same! You're the one who's changed! You feel tired, weary, and stressed, but when has she ever stopped to help you share the burden? 'Mountain and Sea Millet,' high-yield grain varieties, the Southeast Japanese pirates, maintaining balance in the court... wasn't she holding up half the sky for you in every aspect? You should be content!"
"If she truly had no feelings for you, she wouldn't have remained silent; she would have simply overturned the table and left! Would she have tolerated you... tolerated your nightly escapades?! Get out! Don't interfere with my peaceful cultivation!"
Wei Jin stood frozen in place, each of Xuan Chenzi's words like a heavy hammer blow to his heart.
Yes, back then he bowed down and submitted, finding it sweet and willing.
Repairing the courtyard, following the rules, being rejected... he never complained.
Because he knew that it was Ling Zhan.
She is strong, calm, and has her own boundaries. Her world is vast and boundless, and it is a blessing that she allows him to get close.
When did he start to become greedy?
He started to demand things of her by the standards of an emperor and the expectations of a worldly husband.
He started to feel disappointed and angry because she didn't give him the response he wanted?
He forgot that he had been spoiled by his identity as "Emperor," and forgot that gaining her approval and companionship was something that required his full effort, not something that could be achieved by simply sitting back and enjoying the fruits of his labor.
Xuan Chenzi is right. He is not obsessed with having offspring; he is just... afraid.
He feared she was too powerful, feared he couldn't fully control her, feared that their unique connection would be diluted or destroyed. So when the rumors started, he easily fell into their trap, using indifference and punishment to test her limits and confirm his place in her heart.
How ridiculous, and how... naive.
Wei Jin slowly stood up, neither looking at Xuan Chenzi nor speaking.
He walked out of the Imperial Observatory step by step, into the cold autumn wind.
Xuan Chenzi's every word was like quenching ice water, quenching his true feelings that had been blinded by his imperial status.
He almost lost his empress, he almost lost his Ling Zhan.
He looked up at the southeastern sky, where dusk was falling and a few stars were already twinkling.
This time, his gaze was no longer confused; it became firm and clear.
"Issue my decree," he said in a deep but clear voice, "Open the Imperial Treasury and allocate the latest firearms, medicines, and provisions. Also, take that box of 'Snow Ginseng Muscle Regenerating Ointment' from the treasury. Assemble a capable transport team, led by... Shen Zhangwu, and set off immediately. At all costs, deliver it to the southeastern front and hand it over to the Empress."
"Issue another order: the Ministry of War is to expedite the delivery of military reports from the southeast, and send them directly to the Imperial Study at any time."
The eunuch accepted the order and hurried away.
Wei Jin stood alone on the steps, the night wind blowing his robes.
It took away some of the former melancholy and added a touch of clarity, as if it were a do-or-die situation.
He repeatedly ran his fingers along the deep scorch marks on the old wristband, marks that seemed to be etched into his heart.
He suddenly wondered what her expression would be when she received those things, especially the box of "Snow Ginseng Muscle Regenerating Cream" that he had personally placed inside.
I'll probably just give him a calm, unchanging look.
But this time, he will not be disappointed or angry.
Because he finally learned it.
To love a star is not to drag her down to the mortal world, but to make yourself worthy to shine alongside her in that vast starry sky.
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