The news that Prince Zhao had succumbed to poison and died sent shockwaves through the imperial court.

The civil and military officials never expected that the Evil God, Prince Zhao, would die just like that.

Some people still couldn’t believe it and sent men to find out if the news was true.

In the end, they received a definitive confirmation.

Prince Zhao was truly dead; it wasn’t a rumor.

Those who had made an enemy of Prince Zhao were all secretly gloating. The menace was finally dead.

But some people were deeply unsettled by this, such as Bian Ziming, the Commander of the Tiger Roar Camp.

He had planned to pledge his allegiance to Prince Zhao and use the prince’s power to climb the ranks.

But in the blink of an eye, Prince Zhao was dead.

’What should he do now?’

The Emperor was so overcome with grief that he had no heart to hold court.

Not only did he set up a mourning hall for Li Ji in the palace, but he also intended to have him buried in the Imperial Mausoleum.

This move drew the Empress’s intense disapproval.

"Your Majesty, no matter how much you favor Prince Zhao, he is merely a subject, not a member of the Royal Family. How can he be buried in the Imperial Mausoleum? This violates ancestral rites! I implore Your Majesty to reconsider!"

The Emperor’s eyes were bloodshot, and his voice was hoarse.

"You know full well that Jie’er is my son. I failed to give him the status he deserved while he was alive. Now that he’s dead, I must have him officially recognized and returned to the family line."

When the Empress heard those words, she grew even more agitated.

"Don’t tell me you actually intend to write Li Ji’s name into the royal genealogy?!"

The Emperor did not deny it.

This was as good as a confirmation.

The Empress’s voice was sharp. "I refuse!"

The Emperor rubbed his temples. "Jie’er is already dead. Why must you keep dwelling on the past?"

The Empress laughed in exasperation. "Am I not thinking of Your Majesty’s reputation? The moment Li Ji’s parentage is exposed, your name will be ruined."

The Emperor thought back to what happened all those years ago and fell silent.

It wasn’t just the Empress who objected. Even the Empress Dowager and Princess Ningyang voiced their vehement opposition.

As the saying goes, one must not air their dirty laundry in public.

No matter what, they had to keep the events of that year buried and never let the secret get out.

Bowing to pressure from all sides, the Emperor finally abandoned the idea of having Li Ji officially recognized by the clan.

This only made him feel even more guilt-ridden.

He felt he owed Li Ji so much.

Wanting to compensate Li Ji in other ways, he recalled the prince’s dying wish and decided to hold a posthumous wedding for him and Hua Manman.

Since Li Ji had been so fond of Hua Manman, he would have her marry him as his main wife.

This way, his final wish would be fulfilled.

This time, the Empress did not step forward to object.

Princess Ningyang even voiced her approval.

She didn’t want her grandson to have died without even a main wife. If he could be married to a main wife before his burial, he could rest more peacefully in the afterlife.

When Hua Manman heard the news, she was horrified.

She was a modern woman from the twenty-first century, for crying out loud; she simply could not accept such a backward feudal custom.

However, the Emperor’s word was law. The imperial edict had been issued, and Hua Manman had no right to refuse.

The palace embroideresses were truly incredible; they actually managed to produce a complete wedding gown for her overnight.

Hua Manman was forced into the gown and made to sit before a vanity for what felt like an eternity while her makeup was applied.

But no matter how many pleasantries were spoken, Hua Manman could not bring herself to be happy.

She wore a mournful expression the entire time, her lips pressed tightly together, not uttering a single word.

「As the sun set and the sky grew dark.」

Hua Manman was brought to the mourning hall.

As far as the eye could see, the mourning hall was a sea of white.

The one ultimately chosen to stand in was the Fourth Prince, Li Ying.

The Sixth Prince, Li Yi, had been the original choice, but he was too young. Lady Shu, worried he would be frightened, tearfully begged the Emperor to select someone else.

Terrified that their own sons would be chosen, the mothers of the Second Prince and Fifth Prince also found ways to shirk the duty.

In the end, the task fell to the least favored of them all, the Fourth Prince, Li Ying.

It couldn’t be helped—he had no father who cared for him, nor a loving mother.

Li Ying stood beside Hua Manman.

Hua Manman held a red fan with gold tracery, its surface obscuring the lower half of her face and revealing only a pair of beautiful eyes.

Her gaze was lowered to the hem of her dress, her long lashes concealing the emotions in her eyes.

Li Ying just wanted to get back to his book and was unwilling to waste any more time here, so he remained silent from start to finish.

He did as he was told, cold and detached throughout the entire process.

Hua Manman was in no mood to exchange pleasantries with him.

The pair first bowed to Heaven and Earth, then to the Emperor, and finally, as husband and wife, to each other.

After the three bows were complete, Li Ying stepped forward and took the fan from Hua Manman’s hands.

Li Ying had seen Hua Manman before and knew what she looked like, but he was still momentarily stunned by her beauty.

A small, delicate red peony blossom adorned the space between her brows. Her skin was like snow, and her red lips were captivating.

Her already lovely eyes and brows, now exquisitely painted, seemed to ripple with a light that could steal one’s soul.

Just meeting her gaze sent a flutter through Li Ying’s heart.

He looked away, flustered, and did not look at her again.

Hua Manman pressed her lips together, lamenting inwardly. ’To think I’ve lived two lives, only to end up marrying a dead man.’

’Thank goodness the Great Zhou Dynasty doesn’t have the custom of burying the living with the dead.’

’Otherwise, I really would have cried myself to death.’

Not many people came to observe the ceremony. Aside from the Empress Dowager and Princess Ningyang, there were a few Concubines, including Hua Qingqing.

Watching her younger sister go through the wedding ceremony, she felt a bitter taste in her mouth.

’My sister is so wonderful; she deserves a good husband.’

’How could she suffer such a fate?’

’The heavens are truly unjust.’

Once the ceremony was complete, Li Ying placed the memorial tablet back on the incense altar.

He left the mourning hall along with the others.

Hua Qingqing didn’t want to leave. She was worried her sister would be frightened and wanted to stay to keep her company.

But the Emperor’s intentions were clear: no one was to disturb Hua Manman and Li Ji’s "wedding night."

Hua Qingqing could not defy the imperial decree, so she could only walk away reluctantly, looking back over her shoulder with every few steps.

Distracted, she accidentally bumped into the Fourth Prince, Li Ying, as she was crossing the threshold.

In the process, the sachet hanging from her waist fell to the ground.

After steadying herself, she hurriedly apologized to the Fourth Prince.

Li Ying brushed off the spot where she had bumped him. Without a word and with an impassive expression, he prepared to walk away.

However, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a small sachet on the ground.

The sachet was pale pink, a different color from the one he had treasured for many years, but it was embroidered with several plump, white sweet rice balls.

Judging by the style of the embroidery, it was clearly the work of the same person.

A possibility occurred to Li Ying.

His pupils contracted, and his heart began to race.

A powerful sense of anticipation surged through him.

He stopped in his tracks, bent down swiftly, and picked up the sachet.

...