Chapter 03
Even though Mei Sen didnât have a great reputation among his political rivals, he had, after all, reached the highest hall of officialdom. As the youngest Council President in Imperial history, he had achieved significant accomplishments. He was well-connected, and influential figures from political, business, and even literary circles came to pay their respects.
The only thing at the venue that could barely be considered extravagant was the Efrons filling the hall, with their snowy white, soft petals piled layer upon layer.
Socialites moved in an endless stream, each holding a white flower, mourning for Mei Sen.
Someone toyed with the white Efron in their hand while whispering in the waiting area: “Why use Efrons? I remember they symbolize eternal love.”
The person next to them sighed and said, “Itâs said to be the only request of the heartbroken Mr. Ming. It was the flower Mei Sen loved to give him most when he was courting him while alive.”
“It seems Ming Shiyu had deep feelings for Mei Sen. But why did I hear that Mei Sen was very cold to him after marriage? Was it a case of ‘getting bored once he caught him’?”
“Thatâs a real waste. When Ming Shiyu was looking for a partner, the entire Capital Star was fluttering with excitement. Now that heâs single again, sigh, regardless of how powerful the men in high positions are, they are going to start vying for his attention. This is going to be something to look forward to.”
A noble lady shook her fan. If Ming Shiyu didnât prefer men, she would have wanted to compete for him too.
“Owen the Mineral King, the Alliance Governor, and that legendary space pirate are already well-known ‘guest candidates.’ Wait and see, a really big shot is going to come visit this ‘Imperial Tulip’ later.”
…
Some people didn’t come to watch the spectacle surrounding Mei Senâafter all, since marrying him, Ming Shiyu had rarely appeared in social circles.
For example, this person…
After the red-haired noble offered his Efron, he took a restrained look at the person kneeling on the carpet at the end of the hall, then retreated to the side to mourn. Inwardly, however, he muttered: Efrons, eternal loveâtoo good for Mei Sen.
Ming Shiyu, this lonely young man, had become quite thin during this period. He looked so heartbroken that he couldnât bear the weight of it, unable to even stand steadily, and could only sit kneeling with his head bowed.
He had no heart to manage his beautiful long hair, letting it hang loosely behind his head. The braids draped weakly over his shoulders, just enough to cover his face, making it impossible to see his expression.
Naturally, this also hid the obscure gazes falling upon him. Whether they were gazes of pity or covetousness, Ming Shiyu didn’t care; he seemed completely unaware.
If this scene were witnessed by his “spirited” late husband, he would think his wife was completely defenseless and on the verge of being “stolen!”
A small robot from the Mei Sen household was currently staring at the red-haired noble, gritting its teeth.
Halfway through the solemn mourning session, the atmosphere suddenly became dignified. Everyone composed their expressions to look appropriately grave.
The area around the center of the funeral wreaths was cleared of everyone, including robots, leaving only the direct family member, Ming Shiyu, kneeling there.
The most noble figure of the event was arriving.
The man wore a heavy cloak, rustling as it brushed across the carpet. His robe, made of deep red velvet, was embroidered with a rose totemâthe crest of the Windsor family.
He was pale, with gray eyes that looked heartless. He appeared to be around a hundred years old; in an empire where the average age was two hundred, he was in his prime. There were only slight traces of time on his face, and one could only guess his age from his refined and majestic bearing.
The Emperor waved his hand slightly. The protocol officer standing by immediately stepped forward and respectfully accepted the flower from his hands with both hands, placing it on the platform for him.
On his way out, he specifically stopped when passing Ming Shiyu, causing a few people who were in the middle of mourning to glance over in vigilance.
“What?” Ming Shiyu looked like he had heard something. He frowned and tilted his head slightly. The grief that had kept him detachedâwhere he had no one in his eyesâsuddenly snapped back. He raised his head and blinked slowly.
“Shiyu…” The man was flattered.
Ming Shiyu had always been cold as frost toward him. If his arrival had drawn the beauty’s attention, it truly gave him a sense of immense accomplishment.
He leaned down slightly, his pampered hands reaching out, even impulsively wanting to brush Ming Shiyu’s hair aside to reveal his face.
Ming Shiyu still kept his head down, giving the illusion of submissiveness.
But he didn’t even look at the man. Just as those hands were about to touch him, he tilted his head coldly, dodging the frivolous gesture.
He was just a small figure kneeling on the thick, soft carpet, and even his act of resistance was slight.
The Emperor was rebuffed, but he didn’t dare to persist with the action, as if afraid of angering him. The majesty he had displayed toward the entire hall was reined in when facing him. He said aloud:
“Poor child, if you have any difficulties, you can ask for my help at any time. The Royal Family will never neglect the Empire’s elite.”
Ming Shiyu didn’t look at him once, treating him like air: “The cultivation of the Huaxia Alliance and the Capital Star is something I have always kept in mind.”
The Ming family members observing from a distance nodded with smiles.
Only the Emperor knew that the mental force threads pressed against his temples had been retracted by him.
He marveled inwardly: What perfect talent. To think that mental strength reaching the peak of X-level could actually condense into a physical form to kill invisibly.
So, what made Ming Shiyu reveal his ability to me? Is it because losing his husband makes him feel helpless?
The Emperor sighed theatrically, but his eyes were filled with keen interest. He lowered his voice and seduced:
“It’s a pity that Council President Mei Sen acted too waywardly and neglected you, and now he has abandoned you completely.”
He leaned closer to Ming Shiyu’s ear, so close that even the guards behind him couldn’t hear his voice:
“Do you know what the biggest pity is? My father, the wisest monarch of the interstellar era, Reinhardt X, reigned for too long. That three-year mourning period made me miss you.”
The Emperor paused, revealing a malicious smile: “Fortunately, your first husband’s term of office was short enough. It counts as the only compensation in my overly long tenure as Crown Prince.”
Ming Shiyu now regretted not having given him a heavy blow just a moment ago. Both were sharp-tongued, but why didn’t Mei Sen make people this angry when he was spouting nonsense?
He straightened his back and finally deigned to give a haughty glance. Matched with his face that was as cold as frost and snow, there was a strange, singular beauty to it.
“Have you ever considered that it wasn’t the mourning period of Emperor Reinhardt X that made you miss the chance to woo me, but that I specifically chose to accept a marriage proposal only while you were in mourning?”
The smile of ridicule disappeared from the Emperor’s face. His originally handsome features were clouded with gloom as he stared fixedly at Ming Shiyu. Anyone with weaker psychological fortitude would have been too scared to speak under such a gaze.
The crowd in the distance couldn’t hear their conversation; they only felt the Emperor’s expression become inexplicably and terrifyingly gloomy, which instead made Ming Shiyu appear pitiful and fragile.
In reality, Ming Shiyu was kneeling on the ground, looking beautiful and frail, and no one would have guessed that his tongue was currently dripping with poison:
“However, that didn’t stop you, so you must have tasted the sweetness of currying favor with a married woman. I heard from Mei Sen that when you were Crown Prince, you gained quite a lot of help by relying on the beautiful Lady York.”
“It’s a pity that Mei Sen’s power isn’t as great as the late Head of the York family. Even if you grovel before me, you won’t get any benefits.”
The Emperor said gloomily: “Don’t try to anger me on purpose; I don’t want to get angry at you. I know you are very confident, but this is the Capital Star. Not everyone holds reverence for mental power and the influence of the Alliance.”
“If you are afraid, you know where to find me.”
After saying this, he turned abruptly, whipping the hem of his cloak as he strode away. The heavy fabric, trimmed with gold thread, brushed against the carpet with a startling rustle.
Author’s Note:
Chapter 3: Coquetry
Not far away, the small butler robot from the Mei Sen household, who had been honestly blinking its calm mechanical eyes, observed the crowd through the gaps between people. It concentrated all its mental power into the small mechanical body, keeping its attention on Ming Shiyu from time to time.
When the Emperor stopped beside Ming Shiyu, the indicator light on the robot’s head, which showed the degree of operational disorder, turned from green to red. It stared fixedly at the Emperor.
It couldn’t help but leak a trace of sarcastic aura carrying Mei Sen’s mental signature: [Where is that old man looking? He looks like he wants to throw his eyeballs into my wife’s collar.]
It was Mei Sen! This all-powerful, supposed-to-be-dead former Council President had actually used his mental power to possess the robot to attend his own memorial service.
As soon as he leaked the mental energy, he shuddered and shrank his head. His mechanical heart felt like it was going to jump out of his throatâoh, wait, he didn’t seem to have a throat.
Mei Sen peeked at Ming Shiyu like a thief, relieved to find that he hadn’t noticed a thing, and hadn’t even moved an inch in front of the Emperor. [It seems my wife’s dominance in the field of mental power hasn’t reached that monstrous level yet.]
In his eyes, Ming Shiyu was not someone who hesitated; he had the same common flaw as most scholars: he only cared about the truth and didn’t care if others lived or died.
Mei Sen clearly remembered that shortly after their wedding, there were many admirers among the arrogant students of the Imperial Academy. One young hothead was devastated by the news that their “High Mountain Flower” Dean had married.
The student had come to their home in despair to submit a request to transfer, claiming that his abilities were limited, that he was hurt by the study of mental power, and that he wanted to seek a new path.
As if he was hurt by his studies.
At that time, Mei Sen consciously took on the responsibility of being the “virtuous spouse” and loved playing the role of “Dean Ming Shiyu’s husband.”
The dignified Council President had lowered himself to personally serve tea to a mere student, and with less than ten percent of his usual skillful diplomacy, he had coaxed the boy back to his senses, making the student view Mei Sen, his rival in love, as a life mentor.
Amidst the harmonious and happy atmosphere, Ming Shiyu sat quietly on the side like an old-fashioned school administrator who was completely ignorant of human affairs.
Suddenly, in front of his new husband, he asked out of the blue: “Do you like me?”
