Two people in the prime of their youth, deeply in love yet unable to fully connect—anyone who’s experienced it knows just how agonizing and frustrating that feeling is.
And so, the new ruler, who commanded legions on the battlefield, could only resign himself to sleeping on the floor. Not because the bed wasn’t big enough, of course, but because when facing the one you love down to your very bones, it’s hard to restrain yourself. The only option was to maintain a bit of distance.
Yet even so, the mere few meters between the bed and the floor seemed to hold an invisible pull, drawing their thoughts constantly to each other.
While enduring this, Li Heng muttered, half-enjoying, half-suffering, “Wife, your scent is so sweet… and strong.”
Yuan Yi knew it was due to arousal, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. It was instinct. Normally, an omega would enter a new heat cycle about a week after giving birth. For those who had been permanently marked, it would take at least three months. But in his case, he had only been marked by a simulated final mark—and now that it was gone, his body naturally…
At the time, his plan had been to resume simulated marking after giving birth—but then Li Heng had returned.
Hugging his blanket, Yuan Yi replied, “Actually, your cedar scent is pretty sweet and strong too, husband.”
The two of them exchanged a look after that… then both fell silent.
Then, from bed and floor, they turned their backs to each other and lay down—hearts scratching like a kitten’s paw, both thinking for the first time: Why is time moving so slowly? Painfully, torturously slowly. It felt like some wicked ghost had hit the pause button.
Unspoken but in sync, they both realized: They needed to do something—anything meaningful to help pass the time faster.
So the next day, Yuan Yi asked Principal Li and Professor Jian to help look after the children, and he began researching the current state of medical care in the Owanda Empire through online sources. He also started meeting with tailors, designers, and officials in charge of ceremonies.
Li Heng, as the new emperor, would soon undergo a kind of modernized coronation ceremony—not as elaborate as in ancient times, but it would still take up half a day. But even so, what he wore that day, the sequence of events, all of it had to be at least somewhat understood by Yuan Yi. As the Empress, he would go through it with Li Heng—and the clothing to be worn would also need to reflect his preferences.
Ceremonial attire had rules, but no strict templates—there was a lot of flexibility. But in the end, Yuan Yi’s opinion was what mattered most, because when the officials in charge of ceremony asked, Li Heng told them plainly: everything would be based on the Empress’ preferences.
The emperor was only responsible for post-war recovery and drafting new national policies.
Meanwhile, the designers and tailors brought fabric samples and design sketches to meet with Yuan Yi. At first, Yuan Yi really wasn’t used to being apart from the two children—it felt difficult to concentrate on anything. But once he got busy, it gradually got easier.
“The emperor said you’ll likely be attending far more formal events in the future than any empress before you,” said the designer. “So we’ve prepared additional formal wear options for you. Once you select the designs you like, we’ll begin producing them and have the finished pieces delivered to you over the next two weeks.”
“Here are the fabrics,” added the tailor. “You can pick whichever you like for matching. We’ll also provide suggestions, aiming to ensure the final products are both comfortable and aligned with your preferred style and overall texture.”
“The designs are quite good,” Yuan Yi said. “The issue is, I’m planning to return to my pre-pregnancy weight within twenty days. If you take my measurements now and start making them, the clothes might not fit properly by the time they’re done. So try to help me select designs and fabrics that will still suit me after I lose the weight.”
“Then we’ll prioritize elastic materials, and in terms of design, aim for ones that can flatter both fuller and slimmer figures—no problem at all,” the designer said while taking notes. “Alternatively, you could choose an outfit each day, and we’ll rush production so you’ll wear them as they’re finished. That way, the fit won’t vary too much.”
“That’s too troublesome. Let’s just make a few pieces for now, and once I’ve recovered more, we’ll see what’s needed.”
He genuinely didn’t feel the slightest financial pressure while living with the Li family. Not only did he have few personal expenses to begin with, but Principal Li and Professor Jian provided him with more than enough to live comfortably—and that’s not even counting what Li Heng gave him. It was only through helping with war relief and support efforts that he realized many families were still struggling. Though there were plenty of social benefits and technology was highly developed, the lack of rigorous oversight meant many of those benefits never reached the people who actually needed them.
A lot of the money might have been allocated by the state, but once someone manipulates things in the middle, who knows whose pockets it ends up in.
And as Li Heng had told him before, going to war burns through money like water—this wasn’t an exaggeration. Once the cannons start firing, it costs a fortune; that’s the same no matter the era. The mess caused by the Brute barbarians on the home planet, where they looted and destroyed resources, also left many areas needing to be rebuilt—more expenses down the line.
He still wasn’t even sure about the current state of the national treasury.
The designer asked in surprise, “So you mean, aside from a few sets for formal occasions and the ceremonial outfits for your and the emperor’s official appointment day, the rest don’t need to be made yet?”
Yuan Yi replied, “Yes. For me, just three to five sets for now will do. Same for the emperor. The season’s about to change anyway, so there’s no need to go overboard. The old rule about regularly making new outfits for the imperial couple could also be adjusted—having a different outfit every day is honestly just wasteful.”
Previous empresses had worn different clothes every single day, but he really didn’t think it was necessary.
The designer nodded and said, “Understood, Your Highness. Should we still make sleepwear?”
With how frugal he was being, they wondered if he’d skip that too, since he probably already had some.
But Yuan Yi carefully looked through the options and selected three sets.
Most of what he’d worn before was on the looser side, and now they felt too baggy—so these could be remade. He also pointed to ten types of fabrics and asked the tailor, “Could you send me a few bolts of each of these fabrics separately? From my personal account.”
The tailor had known beforehand that Yuan Yi had studied fashion design, so assumed it was for personal use and replied, “Of course. We can provide any colors you like. Some might not be ready-made and would need to be custom-dyed, which could take anywhere from two to seven days.”
Yuan Yi requested dark purple and deep blue, along with very pale pink, pure white, and others. Some of the fabrics were silk-like—very soft and lightweight. There were also pure cotton ones, gauzy ones, and so on. After finalizing those, he focused on selecting the ceremonial outfit he would wear for the formal occasion.
Both sets leaned toward military-style designs. His own outfit had a slim-cut pair of trousers, puffed sleeves (but not exaggerated), and was accessorized with a pearl chain that subtly highlighted the refinement of an omega—distinct from an alpha, yet without looking overly childish. Among all the matching formal outfits, this was his favorite.
Li Heng’s was a starry-blue imperial-style military uniform with a black cape, while his was a pure white Empress outfit with a sky-blue cape.
Because it was heavily crafted and involved a large amount of handwork, the production would take some time.
After making his selections, Yuan Yi had Li Mian send them to Li Heng for review. Upon seeing them, Li Heng was immediately pleased with Yuan Yi’s outfit and messaged him: “Suddenly I can’t wait for that day to arrive.”
He didn’t even look at his own outfit.
Yuan Yi shamefully imagined what it would feel like if Li Heng took off his cape and undid his buttons…
Li Mian noticed his ears suddenly turning red and asked, puzzled, “Brother Yi, what’s wrong? Why are your ears suddenly red?”
Yuan Yi gave a light cough and said, “Nothing. How are Chenchen and Hanhan?”
Li Mian replied, “They’re asleep. Don’t worry, Brother Yi. With over ten people looking after two little babies, nothing’s going to go wrong. And I’ve noticed that Principal Li is even more extreme than Professor Jian—he’s practically glued himself to the side of the crib.”
Li Mian’s physical body was at home, but its program could operate independently, meaning it could exist in both the house and Yuan Yi’s communicator at the same time.
Yuan Yi was genuinely happy when he saw the footage Li Mian relayed back—happy that his children could be so well-loved and surrounded by so many people.
Maybe… he could relax a little more. Be a bit bolder in raising them.
For half a month straight, Yuan Yi left home every morning to head to the imperial court together with Li Heng.
For the time being, this place functioned as their workplace. Li Heng would meet with court officials in the mornings to discuss matters like the reconstruction of the main planet and the promotion or demotion of certain officials. Meanwhile, Yuan Yi oversaw renovations in the imperial garden that belonged to both him and Li Heng, while also continuing preparations for the Emperor’s enthronement ceremony.
Truthfully, there wasn’t anything too complicated about the renovations. To avoid extravagance and waste, he and Li Heng had agreed that the workers only needed to replace all the smart systems in the area.
This was primarily for security reasons—to eliminate any potential hidden risks in the old equipment, much like with Luo Qizheng’s mechas. Some threats couldn’t be seen, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.
Yuan Yi was mainly responsible for assessing the aesthetic aspects—whether things looked good or not. As for safety, there were specialists assigned to that. Lately, there was a quiet frenzy behind the scenes among people vying to become Yuan Yi’s personal guards. Everyone knew that following the future Empress meant a guaranteed promising future.
That’s why even tasks that weren’t theirs to begin with, they were grabbing for themselves.
Flight Wolf was in charge of security inspections. Snow Wolf intercepted and checked the fabrics sent from the Weaving and Dyeing Bureau before transporting them to Yuan Yi.
“Where would you like these placed?”
“These are gifts I’m sending someone—have someone pack them properly and load them into my aircraft’s storage compartment.”
“You’re going to see Ji Lan?”
Yuan Yi didn’t have many friends, and if he was gifting someone fabric, it could only mean Ji Lan.
Yuan Yi nodded. “Yes.”
He had calculated that Ji Lan was likely entering his heat cycle around this time, so he wanted to check in on him. Back when Yuan Yi was pregnant and stationed on Aysdiya, he had missed Ji Lan’s wedding and didn’t get to give him a gift either. Ji Lan was his one closest friend—he couldn’t just let that slide.
Now that he’d been back for over half a month, Ji Lan should be out of his heat cycle by now. Previously, the Weaving and Dyeing Bureau had contacted Yuan Yi saying the fabric was ready, but when he called, it was the Pei family’s steward who answered and said Ji Lan and Pei She were “on their honeymoon.” Yuan Yi immediately understood what that meant and said he’d call back in a few days.
When Ji Lan finally picked up, his voice was hoarse beyond recognition, and he was crying.
He said, “Wuwuwuwu Xiao Yi, I’m so sorry…”
Yuan Yi was startled. “What happened?”
Ji Lan sobbed, “Alphas are terrifying! When they perform the final marking, they’re like—they’re like wild lions in heat! Wuwuwuwu I don’t think I can even make it to your and His Majesty’s enthronement ceremony. I’m so sorry, you’re my best friend—wuwuwu—but on such an important day, I might not even be able to go. It’s been twelve days, Xiao Yi—twelve whole days, do you know that? I begged him to stop and he still wouldn’t let me go. I thought I was going to die!”
Yuan Yi: “…I thought it usually lasted three to five days—seven at most?”
He had reached out to Ji Lan after calculating in advance how long it should’ve taken him to recover.
Ji Lan said, “That applies to normal alphas! I heard from Pei She that super-genetic alphas start at eight days minimum. They’re absolutely insane!”
Yuan Yi: “……”
That night when Yuan Yi got home, Li Heng immediately noticed something was off about him and asked, “What’s wrong, wife? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Thinking of what Ji Lan had said, Yuan Yi hesitated, then asked, “I heard that for super-genetic alphas, the time it takes to perform a lifelong marking on an omega starts at eight days. Is that true?”
Li Heng: “…Why are you suddenly asking about this?”
Yuan Yi said, “I just want to know, based on your understanding of yourself, how long do you think you would take? If I’m not mistaken, both your mental strength and physical endurance surpass Pei She’s. If it really takes something like half a month, then I—I might need to reconsider being the Empress.”
This wasn’t just about fighting for love anymore—this was about risking his life for it!
Maria Lian On CFRFGC Chapter 110
Bwahahahaha! I’d probably die too, like actually.
Thank you for the chapters!
🤣 Thanks for reading❤
LMAO they probably need a month?? 🤣
Also i didn’t think they will ascend to the throne after all of this… Like i thought either they will out other people or simply delete all these royal system.. tho the later really complicated ig? Not to mention it will took a long time as they need to build the government system(?) from scratch again