A group of people knelt nervously in Zhou Shengsheng’s small courtyard, not daring to make a sound.
The reason? Their noble, supreme Emperor was currently in a fit of rage.
“Shengsheng, come here,” Ming Siran said in a deep voice.
Zhou Shengsheng naturally wouldn’t act stubborn at such a moment and immediately walked over.
“What happened?” Ming Siran scanned her from head to toe, and only after confirming she wasn’t injured did he let out a sigh of relief.
He knew this was part of the plot Zhou Shengsheng had been mulling over recently.
But what he had just seen suggested that these people weren’t just targeting Jiang Zhiyu—that was a big problem.
Xie Qingwan, who had been kneeling, suddenly let out a sob, as if she had been deeply wronged. She covered her injured left cheek, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears as she looked at Ming Siran.
Yet Ming Siran acted as if he hadn’t seen her at all. “Be quiet. I wasn’t asking you.”
Xie Qingwan swayed slightly, as if she couldn’t believe her Emperor would treat her this way.
Zhou Shengsheng then softly explained what had happened.
After finishing, she added, “Miss Jiang has been staying with me this whole time.” The implication was clear: she hadn’t even left, so how could she have mistreated that maid?
Xie Qingwan trembled and shot a fierce glare at someone beside her.
That person, feeling her gaze, quickly crawled forward. “Your Majesty! I swear I’m not lying! If I’m lying, may I be struck by lightning!”
*Boom!*
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck out of nowhere, startling everyone.
Everyone: What the—?!
Zhou Shengsheng looked at the maid, who was too terrified to speak, with pity in her eyes.
[See? I told you. If you dare call the female lead an idiot, you’ll get struck by lightning.]
Ming Siran’s fingers twitched under his sleeve.
He had called Jiang Zhiyu an idiot in his mind more than a few times…
Zhou Shengsheng glanced at Jiang Zhiyu, who was curiously looking up at the sky.
Jiang Zhiyu immediately caught on.
“Your Majesty, I also swear that if I ever mistreated this maid, may the sun shine brightly!”
The moment she spoke, the clear sky, which had only rumbled once, suddenly became overcast, and a light drizzle began to fall.
Everyone, including Jiang Zhiyu herself, was stunned.
The rain made the feathers of the bird clinging to Zhou Shengsheng’s sleeve sticky, and it quickly flew into her sleeve to take shelter.
Zhou Shengsheng looked at the speechless crowd with satisfaction.
[Didn’t expect that, did you? Tremble, you ignorant humans! This is the power of the world’s favored female lead!] Zhou Shengsheng laughed inwardly.
Was it ridiculous? Yes, absolutely ridiculous.
In the original book, the female lead had cleared her name by relying on the heavens.
When Zhou Shengsheng had read that part, she had nearly choked on her own saliva.
She had even wondered if the author had run out of ideas and just forced this golden plot armor onto the female lead.
Soon, palace attendants arrived with oil-paper umbrellas to shield Ming Siran from the rain.
“Your Majesty,” Haishan called.
Ming Siran moved his lips and said, “Everyone saw it. Does anyone still want to defend her?”
No one spoke. They weren’t fools. Speaking now would be like going against the heavens.
“Execute her,” Ming Siran said calmly, then turned and left.
The maid, still in shock, collapsed to the ground, seemingly unable to believe this was how her life would end.
Zhou Shengsheng waved at the still-dazed Jiang Zhiyu and took her hand, leading her away.
Before leaving, she glanced at Xie Qingwan’s face.
It was as pale as a ghost.
Once the truth was uncovered, she would likely be banished from the palace by the love-driven rage of Ming Siran.
However, considering she was Haishan’s niece, her life would be spared.
But for a woman who dreamed of becoming a concubine, this was probably more cruel than death.
Halfway back to Qianhe Palace, the light drizzle finally stopped, and the clouds dispersed, revealing a clean, azure sky.
“Everyone, leave,” Ming Siran ordered at the palace door, dismissing everyone. Even Jiang Zhiyu was led away by Haishan to a side hall.
The study was now empty except for Ming Siran and Zhou Shengsheng.
For some reason, the once-spacious study now felt cramped to her.
It was as if even breathing had become difficult.
The incense in the room carried the same scent as Ming Siran’s.
Every time she left the study, Jiang Zhiyu would complain that she smelled like “Little Ming.”
“Shengsheng, help me grind the ink,” Ming Siran’s voice came from nearby, unusually gentle.
Zhou Shengsheng shook her head, feeling a bit foggy, perhaps from the rain earlier.
“Okay,” she heard her own voice echo in the room.
She had been grinding ink for a while now, but today, for some reason, she felt unusually tired.
After just a few strokes, her arms felt weak and sore.
Then, as if to confirm her thoughts, her body went limp, and she collapsed.
By the time she realized what was happening, she was already in a firm embrace filled with the scent of ambergris.
She frowned, trying to push herself up, but a firm yet gentle voice stopped her. “Don’t move. If you’re tired, sleep for a while, okay?”
“I’ll watch over you,” he added.
His words seemed to have a magical effect, lulling Zhou Shengsheng’s heavy eyelids.
The next moment, she fell into a deep sleep.
---Warning: Dark Ming Siran has appeared---
When Zhou Shengsheng opened her eyes again, she was nearly blinded by the sea of red before her.
What was this?
She propped up her still-weak body and looked around the unfamiliar room.
The overwhelming red almost completely captured her attention.
On the round table not far away, a red candle was burning. Though it was intricately carved and beautifully patterned, Zhou Shengsheng recognized it as the kind used in weddings.
After a moment of confusion, she realized something was off about the weight on her head.
It felt as if she were wearing a ten-pound gold bar.
Frowning, she reached up to touch it.
The crisp sound of chains immediately drew her attention.
She stared in disbelief at the thick chain around her delicate wrist.
After a long pause, Zhou Shengsheng began to wonder if her recent earnest teachings had gone wrong.
She sighed, a fleeting look of pity crossing her face before she suppressed it.
[Ah Fat, I need to exchange for a memory-restoring medicine.]
The air was silent for a long time, and the expected cheerful reply didn’t come.
Zhou Shengsheng’s expression changed, panic setting in.
[Ah Fat? Ah Fat?]
[Ah Fat, are you there?]
Her voice echoed in her mind, but there was no response.
Zhou Shengsheng panicked and tried to get up from the bed to leave.
But as soon as she moved, there was a sound at the door.
The steady footsteps of a grown man approached, and Zhou Shengsheng quickly pulled her legs back onto the bed.
The chains around her ankles jingled, causing the footsteps to pause.
Then, a familiar voice came from outside the bed curtains.
“You’re awake.”
