TFRLTOP Chapter 66 Part 1

Chapter 66 – The Tyrant’s Beloved (Part Fourteen)

◎ Li He, I f**ing swear to God!* ◎

By the time afternoon rolled around, Emperor Wanqian gave Gao Fu a subtle look, and the palace attendants immediately lined up to help the two of them change clothes.

Ming Ming asked, “Where are we going? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?”

The emperor smiled, eyes gleaming. “It’s a fine day. I’ll take you out of the palace for a stroll.”

“Out of the palace?”

Since arriving in this world, Ming Ming had basically been confined to the palace the entire time—she’d never once stepped outside. Her interest piqued instantly. “Yes, yes, let’s go!”

They both changed into plain clothes, took a few attendants and guards, and rode a carriage out of the palace. On the way, Ming Ming checked with the system and learned it wasn’t any special holiday. She turned to the emperor curiously. “So… what’s the occasion today?”

Wanqian didn’t answer. He only smiled, watching her in silence.

His gaze made her uneasy. She shifted away from him, sliding over to the window and lifting the curtain to peek outside.

But his eyes never left her.

Dusk fell, and their group moved through the busy streets under the fading glow of the sunset.

“Wow, there’s no curfew here? It’s already getting dark, but the streets are still packed,” Ming Ming murmured to the system. “Guess last night’s fire didn’t really affect anyone. People are just… carrying on as usual.”

The system snorted. “That fire was way out past the eighth ring. What’s it got to do with you folks in the imperial district?”

Ming Ming thought about it and nodded. “Fair point… still, karma, karma,” she muttered under her breath.

Before long, her attention was completely stolen by the bustling rows of shops and street stalls. She quickly forgot all about the emperor and darted ahead, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Her outfit today had been handpicked by Wanqian himself—an orchid-pink pleated silk dress beneath a pale blue jacket with a pipa-style collar. Worried she might get cold after dark, he’d also draped a bright red cloak around her shoulders.

Ming Ming had internally grumbled about his straight-man fashion sense. “Who even pairs these colors together?” she’d complained.

She’d tried to protest, but her own sense of style wasn’t exactly convincing—so she was swiftly overruled.

Even when the attendants finished dressing her, she was still pouting.

The sight had made Wanqian’s heart itch. Right there in front of everyone, he’d cupped her chin and kissed her.

That shut her right up. She was suddenly terrified that if he kept going, she’d end up having to undress again—and there’d be no leaving the palace today.

Her final act of defiance had been to stand eight meters away and yell, “Your fashion sense isn’t that great either!”

Now, under the glow of lanterns, as she wandered from stall to stall, the very outfit she’d mocked actually looked stunning. The soft light made the colors flow together beautifully; her every smile and glance carried a bright, lively charm. The jewels in her hair and the cloak at her back shimmered with her every movement, drawing eyes wherever she went.

Each time she picked up something new to inspect, the lamplight seemed to wrap her in a halo of warmth—so lovely that people couldn’t look away.

To anyone watching, she looked like some nobleman’s daughter who had sneaked out for a night adventure. Passersby couldn’t help but stare, wondering which wealthy family would let their unmarried daughter roam without servants.

Before long, she spotted something she clearly liked. Glancing around for the emperor, she called out to him with a grin still on her face.

Wanqian, dressed in a dark, gold-embroidered robe, cut an imposing figure—handsome and distant, his aura alone enough to keep people at bay.

The guards and attendants blended into the crowd for protection, while Wanqian followed a few paces behind—close enough for her to see him if she turned around.

Reading her expression, he stepped forward, slid an arm around her waist, and, without even asking the price, tossed a piece of silver to the vendor. As the stall owner stammered thanks, Wanqian led Ming Ming to the next stand.

He asked quietly, “Do you like jade ornaments, my lady?”

Ming Ming liked everything, though she tried to act modest. “They’re nice. Pretty.”

“I’ll have a jade decoration made for you when we return. You’ll like it.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

Ming Ming’s face lit up with delight.

To the onlookers, it looked like a well-bred young noble escorting his newlywed wife on a night market date.

She bought all kinds of things—nothing as fine as what she could get in the palace, but full of novelty. She even bought a little rabbit-shaped lantern, and Wanqian teased, “Looks just like you.”

“Ha! You’re the rabbit,” she shot back.

He took her hand and said with a smirk, “Next year’s the Year of the Rabbit. How about you give me a little one?”

Ming Ming rolled her eyes and shoved a toy pinwheel into his hand. “If you’re so bored, make this spin. I want to see it turn all night.”

There was no wind tonight, which meant he’d have to keep blowing to make it spin.

“And no cheating—you have to do it,” she warned.

The emperor chuckled, amused, and actually did as she said. He leaned down and blew gently, sending the pinwheel whirring in circles. As it spun, he looked into her eyes—his own full of quiet heat. Ming Ming flushed and looked away, mumbling, “Well, I’m not having any kids anyway.”

Wanqian just smiled. He wasn’t really serious.

After wandering for a while, Ming Ming started to feel hungry. When a vendor carrying candied hawthorn skewers passed by, her eyes followed him.

Wanqian thought she wanted one, so he stopped the vendor and bought a skewer.

When he held it out, she waved him off. “I don’t like hawthorn.”

He raised a brow. “I thought you wanted some.”

He didn’t argue and just held onto it. After a few minutes, Ming Ming asked tentatively, “Um… is it sweet?”

“Greedy little thing,” Wanqian chuckled, handing it to her. “You’ll know once you try it.”

She hesitated. What if ancient hawthorn was even more sour? She’d once bitten into an unripe one behind the orphanage as a kid—so sour it made her teeth ache for days. Since then, she’d sworn off anything tart for life.

Cautiously, she took a tiny bite—and to her surprise, it wasn’t sour at all. The sugary coating made it perfectly sweet.

Her eyes brightened. She held up the skewer and said with genuine excitement, “It’s not sour! It’s actually sweet!”

“Is it now?” Wanqian leaned in, bit off the piece she’d just eaten from, and tasted it. “Mm. Pretty sweet.”

Ming Ming blushed. “You—how can you just—ugh, you’re impossible…”

He teased softly, “We’ve done far more intimate things. This embarrasses you?” Straightening up, he added casually, “Ordinary married couples do that all the time.”

Ming Ming muttered under her breath, “Who’s married to you?”

They bought more pastries and snacks as they wandered. Ming Ming wanted to try everything—a bite here, a nibble there, saving room for the next treat.

At one point, she was drawn to a particularly crowded shop. Afraid she’d get jostled, Wanqian followed closely, guarding her on both sides.

It turned out to be a pastry shop boasting “imperial recipes.” The clerk claimed the emperor’s favorite pastries were identical to what they sold there.

“Really?” Ming Ming asked skeptically. When the clerk swore up and down, it was true, she turned to Wanqian with mock outrage and whispered, “So stingy! You mean the pastries you eat aren’t even the same as ours? Sharing is caring, you know! When we get back, tell the imperial kitchen to make me these ones too.”

They ate together every day, and yet somehow his desserts were in a whole different league? Unacceptable. She’d been cheated out of millions!

Tugging lightly at his sleeve, she asked hopefully, “Deal?”

The emperor chuckled and tapped her nose. “You believe that nonsense? The palace chefs change recipes daily just to please you. When have I ever eaten something different from you?”

Ming Ming thought about it and realized he had a point. Besides, knowing his tastes, if he ever did get a special dish, it was probably something horrifying like mashed yams with spinach juice—fit for a health-obsessed lunatic.

She couldn’t understand people like that. Why eat vegetables when you could be eating meat?