Chapter 1

Chapter 1

For the first time, I discovered that my Empress, who had always been delicate and charming, possessed such divine strength.

A pinch and a twist-it was a fluid, decisive motion executed with ruthless force.

My tears welled up instantly.

Seeing this, she let out a sigh of relief. “Che’er, don’t just stand there. Quickly, go forward…”

As she spoke, she applied a secret shove, pushing me forward.

Caught off guard, I went sprawling face-first onto the ground.

The Empress froze on the spot.

The surrounding ministers froze as well.

I couldn’t help but marvel in my heart. After sharing a bed for over twenty years, I hadn’t noticed a single clue until now.

The Empress was truly a master of disguise.

Seeing the situation grow increasingly awkward, I silently sighed and took the opportunity to start wailing. “Father, your son has failed you!”

I slammed my head down in a heavy kowtow, turning my fall into a kneel. Inch by inch, I shuffled forward on my knees until I reached the coffin.

The atmosphere became harmonious once again.

As expected, this family would fall apart without me.

I could even hear everyone else letting out a sigh of relief as they began their own wailing and consolations. Naturally, the loudest voices were those praising the current Crown Prince for his immense filial piety, words that drifted into my ears from all directions, whether intentional or not.

Mourning for an Emperor is a technical skill.

You can’t be un-sorrowful, but you can’t be too sorrowful either.

If your crying isn’t sorrowful enough, those court historians will surely scold you for being in a hurry to ascend the throne, calling you disloyal and unfilial. But if you cry too much, they’ll complain that you’re weak and overly emotional, unfit for great responsibilities.

I have many feelings about this and a wealth of experience.

When my great-grandfather passed away, my imperial grandfather was too grief-stricken. He couldn’t stop crying, and the meddlesome historians criticized him for a long time. Consequently, whenever he tried to implement government decrees later on, there were always people who thought the Emperor was soft-hearted and tried to exploit loopholes.

Later, when my imperial grandfather passed on, the late Emperor learned his lesson. He worked hard to restrain his emotions, appearing dignified, composed, and organized. Then they said the late Emperor was cold and lacking in filial piety.

Having been immersed in this since childhood, I figured out a way to handle it early on.

Back when the late Emperor passed away, while I wept bitterly, I recounted every bit of my friendship with him while silently reciting his teachings and instructions. I displayed the heart of a devoted son and the clear intent of an Emperor.

I handled the proportions perfectly.

I cried so well that the old ministers beside me kept kowtowing to pledge their loyalty.

This is likely the first test for a New Emperor.

But to be honest, I’m finding it a bit hard to cry right now.

Even though I’ve spent over thirty years struggling on the throne and have mastered every emotion to the point of perfection, looking at my own memorial tablet is just… awkward, no matter how I look at it.

Once the pain in my thigh faded, my tears dried up. But we’ve only just begun; the intensity is clearly insufficient.

Thus, I had no choice but to raise my sleeve to cover my face and start fake-wailing.

The Empress was the first to notice something was wrong. She tugged at my sleeve, then, with a hand as fast as a lightning bolt, she reached up and wiped my face.

Spicy!

Stinging!

My eyes! My nose! My very skull!

It’s too damn much!

Instantly, snot and tears flowed freely.

The Empress nodded with satisfaction. From the looks of it, if that hadn’t been enough, she probably would have given me another dose immediately.

I looked at her with tear-filled eyes.

Empress, I never knew you were so… ‘thoughtful’ and ‘kind’!