Five Years After My Death, the Mad Emperor Still Summons My Spirit

Liu Ye arranged a palanquin.

Ming Lingyi didn’t comment on whether it was appropriate. Since it had been arranged, she was certainly not going to walk if she didn’t have to. As for what others might say, she was only going to be in the palace for a short while. ’What does their gossip have to do with me?’

The scenery along the way seemed no different from five years ago. Ming Lingyi only stepped down when she reached the entrance to Taiji Palace.

"Your Grace, please," Liu Ye said, bowing respectfully.

Ming Lingyi let out a soft chuckle. ’My identity is probably no secret to those around Li Yun.’ "Mr. Liu," she said, "I’m not any ’Your Grace’ now. You should just call me Miss Ming."

Liu Ye was speechless.

He gave a dry laugh. ’I can’t possibly respond to that.’

If he dared to call her "Miss Ming" today, he wouldn’t even have to wait until tomorrow. He, the Grand Steward, would be sent off to scrub chamber pots.

And if he were even unluckier, depending on his master’s mood, he might not get to keep the head on his shoulders.

Seeing Liu Ye’s silence, Ming Lingyi didn’t press him further and walked straight into the palace hall.

The moment Ming Lingyi agreed to Li Yan’s request to visit the palace, word had already reached Li Yun.

By now, Taiji Palace had been completely cleared of all non-essential personnel.

Only Li Yun remained.

As Ming Lingyi stepped inside, she was hit by the strong, bitter scent of medicine.

Although Li Yun was propped up in bed, he was still holding a red pen. A small table sat beside his bed, presumably covered in official memorials.

’So much for the Imperial Physician’s orders to rest quietly. It looks like he hasn’t listened to a word of it.’

But the moment Ming Lingyi entered, Li Yun put down what he was holding and looked up at the woman walking in from the doorway.

"Yuan Niang..." Li Yun’s voice was still hoarse, laced with a hint of weakness.

This weakness was no act.

Ever since Ming Lingyi had left, he’d paid little heed to his own body. He suffered from constant insomnia, desperately trying to numb himself with the endless bustle of state affairs, and his meals were completely irregular. Without Ming Lingyi there, no one in the palace dared to reason with him, nor did anyone have the skill to succeed.

These past five years had probably been the busiest in the Imperial Hospital’s history.

More than half of Sui Ziran’s hair had turned white, almost entirely from the stress of managing the Emperor’s health.

But this particular patient was too difficult to discipline—or rather, no one dared. He might have seemed fine on the surface, but his constitution was severely depleted.

Ming Lingyi stopped five or six paces from Li Yun, not moving any closer.

From where she stood, the first things Ming Lingyi noticed were the red palm print on Li Yun’s face and the scab of dried blood at the corner of his lip.

’Both my handiwork.’

But she felt no guilt. As far as Ming Lingyi was concerned, Li Yun had brought it all on himself.

"Huazhao told me you fainted last night," Ming Lingyi said. "What happened?"

Li Yun said, "I’m fine..."

He wasn’t used to showing weakness in front of Ming Lingyi.

Ming Lingyi retorted, "You don’t look like anything is wrong. If something were truly wrong, would you be out climbing walls? It serves you right for being so reckless. Since you’re fine, I’ll be leaving. And stop making Huazhao worry. He’s still just a child."

After speaking, Ming Lingyi actually looked as if she was about to turn and leave.

That was when Li Yun grew desperate.

He threw back the blankets, trying to get out of bed to stop her. But between the blood loss and his recent, overwhelming grief, the sudden emotional surge made his vision abruptly go black.

THUD—

Before Ming Lingyi could turn to leave, a dull sound came from behind her. Li Yun had fallen.

Her body reacted faster than her mind. By the time Ming Lingyi came to her senses, she had already rushed over and was helping him up from the floor.

Ming Lingyi was speechless.

As she got closer to Li Yun, she noticed that underneath the strong medicinal scent in the room, there was a faint, almost imperceptible smell of blood.

After helping Li Yun back onto the bed, Ming Lingyi stared at the man before her for a long moment.

Her stare was so intense it was starting to make Li Yun uncomfortable.

"You’re injured?" Ming Lingyi asked.

’But who in the world could possibly injure Li Yun?’

’Setting aside his own martial arts, which are among the best in the world, the palace itself is heavily fortified. What kind of suicidal maniac could possibly get close enough to hurt him?’

Li Yun started, "...It’s nothing." He had just gotten the two words out when he remembered how Ming Lingyi had turned to leave without the slightest hesitation after he’d said he was fine. His heart clenched, and he quickly corrected himself, "I am... a little injured."

Li Yun felt quite awkward showing weakness in front of Ming Lingyi for the first time, revealing a side of himself that wasn’t so invincible.

He wanted to turn his face away, yet he couldn’t bear to tear his gaze from her. He was utterly torn, his emotions a complex tangle.

"Please don’t be in such a hurry to leave, all right?" Li Yun reached out and tentatively took hold of Ming Lingyi.

Though his touch was tentative, the arrogance and dominance in his nature meant that the instant he had a hold of her, he had no intention of ever letting go.

So, when Ming Lingyi tried to pull away, Li Yun’s grip instinctively tightened.

He would never hurt her, but he also wouldn’t let her slip from his grasp so easily.

Ming Lingyi stared coldly at the large hand now gripping her own. She had to admit, the feeling was all too familiar—so familiar that for a fleeting moment, she felt as if she had never left at all.

Hearing Li Yun admit he was injured, Ming Lingyi’s expression darkened slightly.

"Where are you hurt?" she asked.

Li Yun hesitated. "...On my torso. It’s nothing serious. Don’t worry about me."

He couldn’t let her see the crisscrossing scars on his chest. He knew they were ugly and gruesome, and he was afraid he would frighten her.

Ming Lingyi pursed her lips. "Who’s worried about you? I just want to know who on earth is skilled enough to actually hurt you."

Li Yun chuckled softly. When his Yuan Niang didn’t mean what she said, her expression was exactly the same as it always had been.

"You’re right, no one can hurt me. I was just careless," Li Yun said.

Just when he thought she would let the matter drop, Ming Lingyi suddenly reached out with her free hand and yanked open the front of his robes.

Earlier, when she had helped him up, she’d felt that his chest was padded thicker than the rest of him. Now, as she pulled his clothes open and saw the white gauze bandages wrapped around his chest, a look of realization dawned in her eyes.

’Just as I thought.’

’The man’s wound is over his heart. No wonder his face is so pale and he collapsed just now.’

Ming Lingyi knew that Li Yun was a man who would never stoop to feigning weakness. This was real.

"How exactly did you get this wound?" Ming Lingyi demanded.