Chapter 6: The Empress Dowager and Her Substitute Lover

This was a cloth shop, and Huayue casually found a bench to sit on.

Fabric fluttered everywhere.

A piece of dark red cloth landed in front of her, embroidered with golden thread that shimmered brilliantly in the sunlight.

Huayue held it up to the light for a closer look.

“Made into a skirt, it should be very beautiful,” she thought with interest.

One advantage of this ancient era, she mused, was the abundance of resources compared to the post-apocalyptic times—golden silk, jewelry, gems—it was all so exquisite.

Sensing a piercing gaze, Huayue frowned and looked up.

By a tree in the corner stood a man dressed in black, clutching a sword. His robes fluttered gently, and a jade pendant swayed with the breeze.

The man was tall and slender; morning light filtered through the treetops, casting mottled patterns over him. His features were delicate, as if painted by an artist.

The fourth person with the inscription on his forehead had appeared.

The villain—Wei Yan.

That face...

Huayue’s eyes lingered on his lips.

She saw those crimson, attractive lips curl into a smile, revealing a set of small white teeth.

Huayue: “...”

Why the smile? Is he crazy?

Though she had to admit, the smile was quite charming.

“Qingli.”

Qingli gripped her soft sword, her eyes cautiously fixed on the battle, wary that Huayue might be caught up in the fray.

Hearing her name, Qingli responded without taking her gaze off the fight.

“Madam, what are your orders?”

Huayue was quite pleased. She handed the dark red cloth to Qingli.

Suddenly having her view obscured, Qingli looked puzzled.

“Madam?”

Huayue instructed, “Go find the shopkeeper and have a skirt made from this cloth, get it done quickly, and pay extra.”

“Ah?”

Qingli was stunned. How could her mistress have the leisure to think about clothes amid such tension? She glanced at the group still fighting and hesitated.

Huayue smiled wryly. “Go. I’m not afraid, so why should you be? The people my father left me with are not some useless trash.”

“...That’s true.”

Qingli could only obey.

...

Their voices were neither loud nor soft, but martial artists had keen ears and eyes. One black-clad man heard them and his eyes reddened with rage—he was treated with utter disdain.

Risking a stab from a sword, he dashed forward to confront Huayue.

“Die!”

“Madam!”

Qingli glanced back but was too slow to shield Huayue, panic evident on her face.

Huayue blinked. She had been annoyed—her good mood from going out had been spoiled.

Now, she suddenly found a way to vent.

The original owner came from a general’s household and had learned some martial arts, but it was all flashy moves. She had tried a whip for a few days but quickly gave up.

...

These black-clad men were mediocre at best.

Though swift, they were no match for the zombies with supernatural abilities.

Their every move was flawed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Huayue spotted a hemp rope nearby. She smirked slightly, lifted her toe, and quickly hooked it into her hand.

Dodging the long sword with a sidestep, she raised her arm and swung.

The rope sliced through the air.

Smack—

It struck the black-clad man’s eye, bursting a spray of blood that splattered onto a nearby white cloth, resembling a blooming rose—strangely beautiful and striking.

“This pattern is quite nice,” Huayue remarked as if admiring a work of art.

“Ah!”

The man clutched his eye, crying out in pain. The other assassins hesitated for a moment.

The sounds of weapons slicing through flesh came next.

Huayue felt a surge of satisfaction.

At the same time as the whip’s arrival, another long sword appeared.

Its silver gleam was blinding as it clashed against the black-clad man’s sword, producing a sharp snap. The man’s weapon fell to the ground.

Surprised to see Huayue’s rope hit its target, the newcomer stiffened briefly before joining the fight.

Huayue raised an eyebrow, turned around, and sat down again, changing her posture to continue watching the battle.

Since the black-clad man was injured, the assassins clearly panicked for a moment. With the newcomer’s aid, they soon fell to the defensive.

“Retreat!”

Apparently, the man whose eye Huayue had injured was their leader. Casting a hateful glance at her, he quickly withdrew.

The shadow guards were there to protect Huayue; without orders, they would not pursue.

They melted into the shadows.

Soon, only Huayue and the young man remained in the cloth shop.

With a graceful motion, Wei Yan sheathed his sword, standing tall as their eyes met.

Huayue blinked.

Up close, his face looked far softer and younger than the male lead’s cold expression.

His appearance was strikingly handsome, his skin like jade, lips slightly pursed, eyes unabashedly fixed on her.

Huayue sat calmly on the bench, her expression composed, even with a faint smile. Facing such an aggressive gaze, she felt not the slightest discomfort.

This assassination attempt was undoubtedly from the original owner’s rival, Concubine Lu, and the familiar leader of the assassins was likely the Ninth Prince.

She wondered how he would manage to go out again with his injured eye.

Refocusing, Huayue mentally retrieved information about the man before her.

The villain of this story was named Wen Lezhan, the greatest obstacle to the male lead’s path to the throne and reign.

He was also Wei Yan, son of the former deposed crown prince.

When the crown prince was ousted, he was only four years old.

By now, he was eighteen?

He had come to the capital this time with the intent to rebel.

What puzzled her was why he had come to save her now.

Examining him carefully, Huayue noticed his features bore some resemblance to Wei He, especially the lips.

She blinked. “Young master, aren’t you leaving?”

Wei Yan: “...”

Bathed in sunlight, the woman sat lazily, her hair shimmering as if glowing, her face radiant and exquisite, like polished jade—truly stunning.

Undeniably,

Wei Yan felt he was love at first sight.

A beauty widowed, Wei Yan thought this was the perfect opportunity to slip in.

Though it sounded somewhat shameless.

Before he could approach further, another assassination attempt came.

In desperation, he saved her.

Though...

She seemed not to need his rescue.

He cleared his throat. “Your whip work is very skillful.”

Huayue raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for the compliment?”

Wei Yan: “...I saved you, shouldn’t I at least get a thank you?”

Huayue smiled softly, like a blooming flower. Wei Yan was momentarily distracted, his lips curving into an irresistible smile.

“Miss? I am already married, can’t you tell?”

She pointed to her hair bun.

“Then, sister?”

His youthful voice was a blend of boy and man, magnetic yet tinged with adolescent charm. Coupled with his androgynous face, he was particularly... alluring.

Wei Yan cleared his throat. “The maid just called you ‘Madam Sister,’ so you must be married. I’m still single and unbetrothed, so I took the liberty of calling you sister. Or did I get it wrong? Should I be calling you little sister instead?”

He leaned in slightly, locking his long, beautiful eyes on hers, which sparkled brightly. His smile was dazzling.

He emphasized “unmarried” and “unbetrothed.”

Anyone with insight would understand his intentions immediately.

Huayue raised her hand, pressing against his forehead and gently pushing him back.

“Are you... trying to seduce me?”

Also,

Were people in ancient times really so open?

Even in her own time, no one would flirt like this on first meeting.

In the newly established post-apocalyptic civilization, people were deeply wary of one another.

If someone like him appeared back then,

he would have been punched in the head long ago.

Of course,

he was handsome enough that someone might actually take him home.

The moment their skin touched, Huayue noticed his face flushed instantly.