Dear Lovely Readers,

My sincerest apologies! I must admit, I got a bit lazy and terribly forgetful—I didn’t realize there were still extra chapters of this wonderful novel waiting to be translated. But fear not! I’m now working on them, and here’s a freshly completed one for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you all for your patience and support!

Chapter 99: Extra Three

Yu Lingxi sat beside Ning Yin, glanced at the memorial burnt in the charcoal basin, and smiled, asking, “What did Sun Yushi do to provoke you?”

The officials in the Yushi Tai were all Ning Yin’s people. As long as they didn’t do anything too outrageous, they always deferred to Ning Yin.

Ning Yin opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace, rubbing her slowly. He said coolly, “An old bone like me, if not tested, wouldn’t know its weight.”

Ning Yin didn’t elaborate, but Yu Lingxi could guess.

Just now, she vaguely heard Sun Yushi mention something about “the late Emperor has been on the crane for nearly a year,” which was related to the mourning period and also involved Ning Yin himself. It must be something about the royal family’s descendants.

Ning Yin was capricious and “indifferent to women.” The courtiers would certainly not be foolish enough to let him expand the harem. Moreover, the selection of concubines required the consent of the Empress. Since Yu Lingxi hadn’t heard any news about it, it naturally had nothing to do with the selection of concubines.

Then, the only possibility was urging the Emperor to have a child.

While she analyzed it all in her mind, Ning Yin’s eyes grew deeper.

“You’re laughing so happily.”

Ning Yin lifted his eyes lazily, his gaze drifting downward. “Why not let other lips smile too?”

As he spoke, he wrapped his arm around Yu Lingxi’s waist. With a slight pressure from his hand, her slender body fell backward, her almond eyes filled with shock.

The red brush and memorials scattered all over the floor, and her lower back was a bit sore from hitting the dragon case.

Yu Lingxi reacted and hurriedly begged for mercy in a low voice, “I was wrong, I was wrong! Ning Yin…”

Before long, her voice became gradually fragmented and indistinct.

Occasionally, there was the sound of things falling in the room, making the palace maids waiting outside shrink their necks.

The weather became colder, and after nearly an hour, the palace door opened again.

The Empress slowly walked out, perhaps having knelt for a long time, her gait somewhat unnatural, and the corners of her eyes still had traces of faint tears, pitiable at first glance.

The palace maids hurriedly stepped forward to help.

The Empress angered the Emperor by pleading for the officials, and she must have been scolded by the emperor… Alas, truly pitiable.

It started snowing before New Year’s Eve.

The snow fell all night, and the palace roads and eaves were covered in a vast expanse of white, creating a magnificent and breathtaking scene, like a fairyland of jade.

Every winter, there were often snow disasters, and memorials were sent one after another to the Floating Light Hall.

Talking about disaster relief seemed simple, but actually doing it well was as difficult as reaching the sky. Because the areas affected by disasters were far from the emperor, there were countless cases of concealing or misreporting, with local officials colluding with merchants to embezzle disaster relief grains for money, a situation that was difficult to eradicate.

Dressed in black robes, Ning Yin sat on the dragon throne. After the civil and military officials had argued enough, he finally opened his eyes and said lazily, “Take out the aged grains from the granaries, and let Minister Yu Huanchen be responsible for transporting them to the disaster areas. The Ministry of Revenue will send people to accompany and distribute them according to the population.”

He didn’t bother to say more than that, his voice as cold as the snowy day outside. “If there are any mistakes, you don’t need to hang lanterns on New Year’s Eve. Just hang heads instead.”

With that, he left the court after checking the time.

Leaving the courtiers looking at each other in amazement, then bursting into an uproar.

“The disaster areas are filled with starving people, yet His Majesty is using unwanted aged grains for relief. It’s truly lacking in benevolence and will only chill the hearts of the people.”

“Our emperor excels in warfare and conquest, but when it comes to this strategy of appeasement… sigh!”

Amidst the noise, only Minister Yu Huan, who was tasked with delivering the relief grains, remained composed.

Because he had been involved in delivering relief grains before, he understood why the Emperor chose aged grains for disaster relief. Although this young Emperor was unpredictable and sometimes tyrannical, one had to admit that his vision always surpassed that of ordinary people.

The news of the Emperor’s announcement of disaster relief soon reached the Zhao Yun Palace.

At first, upon hearing that Ning Yin was using poor-quality aged grains for relief, Yu Lingxi was indeed somewhat surprised.

But soon, she understood the reasoning behind it, and the corners of her lips curled up in approval.  

“Your Majesty, why are you smiling?”

Taking advantage of the empty hall, Hutao sympathized with her mistress. “Ever since news of the disaster came, you’ve been so worried that you couldn’t sleep for nights, fearing His Majesty would lose the people’s support. Now, the court is using old grain for relief—isn’t that just driving the people away? All your efforts have been wasted.”

Hearing this, Yu Lingxi’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she explained, “You don’t understand. For the people in the disaster-stricken areas, having enough to fill their bellies is already a blessing—they don’t have the strength to care whether the rice is old or new.”

“Just because the victims don’t care, does that mean the court can cut corners like this?” Hutao was baffled.

Her mistress had always been kind-hearted—this didn’t seem like her at all!

“No. By using old grain for relief, His Majesty isn’t targeting the victims, but the local officials who seek to profit from the nation’s misfortune.”

Seated on the couch while copying scriptures, her golden skirts pooling on the floor, Yu Lingxi spoke softly, “Old grain tastes poor and is barely worth anything, so corrupt officials with ill intentions won’t bother hoarding or reselling it. And with the cost of one portion of new rice, you can buy five portions of old grain—saving many, many more lives.”

It was a move that killed two birds with one stone—seemingly harsh, yet precisely calculated to outmaneuver human greed.

Still, she’d have to arrange for some folk songs to spread among the people later. She couldn’t let Ning Yin be misunderstood for nothing.

Hutao suddenly grasped the reasoning and gasped, “No wonder His Majesty is—no, no wonder he’s the one Your Majesty chose!”

Yu Lingxi couldn’t help but chuckle at the way she’d included her in the praise. “Since following me into the palace, your tongue has grown sharper by the day.”

Back in the Regent’s residence in their past life, she’d been as timid as a quail.

“All thanks to Your Majesty’s excellent guidance.”

Hutao set down the teacup and hugged the tray with a cheeky grin.

---

As dusk settled, heavy clouds loomed overhead while palace eunuchs and maids busied themselves sweeping away the snow.

Since the late emperor had passed away less than a year ago, Ning Yin couldn’t be bothered to humor the courtiers with formalities. There were no grand banquets this New Year—just a few new lanterns hung up as decoration.

Clad in a black fur-lined cloak, he made his way toward Zhaoyun Palace, where the empress resided, cutting a striking figure against the long palace pathway like a bold stroke of ink.

Today, he had deliberately worn those deerskin boots. Their crunch against the snow sounded eerily like the snapping of bones, sending shivers down the eunuchs’ spines. Yet he seemed to relish the noise.

Just as he passed the moon gate of the flower garden, a startled gasp rang out.

A young palace maid stumbled out from behind the gate, her lantern rolling to a stop at Ning Yin’s feet before extinguishing.

The maid immediately knelt, pressing her forehead to the ground. “This lowly maid, Yunxiang, did not mean to offend Your Majesty! Please forgive this offense!”

In this palace, few dared to announce their names so boldly before the new emperor.

Ning Yin’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze cool and detached, like an immortal surveying the mortal realm.

His eyes flicked to the tip of his boot—now stained with a faint smear of lamp oil—then to the plum tree in the corner, adorned with festive knots and delicate little lanterns.

“Your doing?”

A light, frost-laced voice drifted down from above.

“Yes.”

Yunxiang bit her lip and cautiously lifted her gaze, revealing a delicately made-up face.

She was the daughter of a concubine, sent into the palace on her father’s orders.

With the emperor and empress deeply devoted to each other and the imperial harem left vacant, powerful families had no chance to push their daughters or sisters into the palace as consorts. 

So her father had resorted to backdoor methods, pulling strings to get her in as a maid—hoping she could serve close to the imperial couple and relay information for the family.

“Skillful hands.”

Before Yunxiang could feel pleased, that icy voice spoke again. “Break them.”

Her body locked up, her face draining of color.

Ning Yin paused at the palace steps and, under the horrified stares of the eunuchs, bent down to meticulously wipe away the oil stain on his boot.

The coldness in his eyes deepened.

In Zhaoyun Palace, Yu Lingxi had just one last page of scripture left to copy.

Seeing the familiar figure emerge from the dimming twilight, she looked up with a smile. “Sit. There’s tea warming on the table for you.”

The moment Ning Yin drew near, Yu Lingxi sensed the bone-deep chill clinging to him.

She paused, setting down her brush. “I’ve heard about the relief efforts. You handled it brilliantly. This dynasty has had no shortage of so-called wise and virtuous rulers, yet none of their methods were as practical as yours.”

Ning Yin had once claimed he was a cold, unfeeling man—that even mountains of corpses couldn’t stir an ounce of pity in him.

But Yu Lingxi knew: his unorthodox methods were far more effective than hollow “empathy” could ever be.

Ning Yin let out a low chuckle. “Do you ever tire of finding new ways to flatter me every day, Sui Sui?”

Though his tone was teasing, the sharp frost in his eyes had softened.

Yu Lingxi laughed. “Speaking a few truths—why would that tire me?”

Ning Yin plucked the brush from her hand, fingers trailing down to squeeze her waist. “Then shall we do something truly exhausting?”

It had been half a month since they’d last been intimate—first due to her monthly courses, then the sleepless nights over the disaster relief.

As his fingers found a sensitive spot, Yu Lingxi melted against him but quickly caught his wrist.

“Behave. We still have to return to the manor for the New Year.”

She’d planned it long ago: this year, they would celebrate the New Year at Jing Manor.

Perhaps because of their past life, she held a lingering fondness for that place. With no palace banquet this year, why not retreat there with Ning Yin for some peace?

Besides—this was the first New Year they’d spend together since her rebirth.

---

Jing Manor was finally adorned with fresh lanterns, their warm glow blending with the snow like a river of light, lending the place a rare sense of home.

The heated floors of the bathing chamber radiated warmth, fragrant as spring.

Side by side beneath a carved moon gate, Yu Lingxi and Ning Yin kept vigil for the New Year, watching the snow.

A small stove nearby warmed spiced Tusu wine, while the low table held an array of sweets and midnight snacks. Bundled in a thick rabbit-fur cloak, Yu Lingxi reached out to catch falling snowflakes.

“My mother once told me that if you catch a perfect snowflake on New Year’s Eve and make a wish before it melts, it’ll come true in the coming year.”

No sooner had she spoken than a stunning hexagonal snowflake landed in her palm. Delighted, she showed it to Ning Yin. “Quick, make a wish!”

But it was too late—the snowflake had already dissolved on her fingertips.

Just as disappointment flickered across her face, Ning Yin leaned in and closed his lips around the droplet on her finger.

His dark eyes lifted to hers, capturing her surprise and faint smile.

He didn’t believe in gods or ghosts. His wish was already right before him.

---

At the stroke of midnight, fireworks shot into the sky from beyond the manor gates, blooming like ephemeral flowers against the night.

Embers and snowflakes fell together, indistinguishable in their brilliance.

“It’s midnight.” Yu Lingxi smiled. “A joyous New Year, Ning Yin.”

Just then, another firework exploded, painting half the sky in dazzling hues. The light flickered in Ning Yin’s eyes, unpredictable as ever.

“Midnight has passed,” he murmured, his solemn tone belying the mischief in his words as he closed the distance between them. 

The fireworks faded.

By the time the next burst lit the sky, their lips were already sealed together, silhouetted against the falling snow.

Steam curled in the bathing chamber, rippling the water’s surface.

Outside, the snow had quietly ceased, and the wine had long gone cold. But within, the warm glow of the floor lanterns burned on until the hour of Yin (11pm-1am).

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