Super-Fertile Darling: Forced to Marry the Heirless Tyrant

Their first true meeting.

It was in Ninghe Town, several miles outside the army camp.

A once-prosperous place, now a scene of utter devastation.

The town had first been ravaged by a devastating flood, and the following year was struck by a severe drought and a plague of locusts. The people were starving, their suffering indescribable. It was no longer a rare occurrence for them to trade their own infants for food.

The Monarch of the Da Liang Dynasty was dissolute and cruel. For two years, he had not sent a single soldier to provide disaster relief.

As night fell, he set out from the Northern Border Camp. He wore a mask to avoid being recognized by the victims and brought a few of his men to Ninghe Town.

The streets were deserted and deathly still. They headed into an alleyway.

Not far off, they found a dilapidated tea shed filled with corpses, each simply wrapped in white cloth.

From within came faint, pained groans and the sound of bottles and jars being knocked over.

They stopped at a corner across from the tea shed.

Moonlight, like water, spilled across the ground.

A woman in slate-gray clothes was kneeling, administering needles to an old man before her.

All sorts of small items were scattered on the ground: cloth strips, silver needles, moxibustion tools, and small, brightly colored medicine vials.

Her bangs were soaked with sweat and fine beads of perspiration dotted the tip of her nose, a clear sign she had been busy for a long time.

But she paid it no mind, kneeling on the freezing ground.

Despite her frantic efforts, the old man’s condition only worsened until, finally, his faint breath ceased altogether.

The woman’s tears, like pearls from a broken string, splattered onto the deceased man’s filthy clothes.

Perhaps from crying so often, her nose and eyes were raw and red. Her face was swollen, showing the first signs of frostbite.

But her despair lasted only for a moment. As if her brief show of weakness had been an illusion, she immediately shifted her body and moved to the next person.

Glistening tears still clung to her face, but her hands never stopped treating the sick and injured.

He stood in the shadows where she could not see him.

He saw death every day—on the battlefield, in the army camp. Sometimes, on a harsh march, a fallen subordinate would be hastily buried, wrapped only in a straw mat.

He had sent countless souls to their graves. To say he slaughtered men like scything wheat would be no exaggeration.

But these people dying so miserably were not enemy soldiers. They were the people of the land he was sworn to protect.

He had thought himself long since numb to such sights, that the loss of life would no longer stir his heart.

But watching her tears fall one by one, like the world’s most flawless crystals dropping into dust...

Suddenly, he understood what it was he wanted most.

King Liang was an incompetent ruler. Hundreds of thousands of his own people had died, directly or indirectly, because of him.

And here, this medical woman was desperately trying to save lives.

So many had died and suffered in Ninghe Town. Ultimately, King Liang was the source of the rot, the festering flesh. The Daliang Dynasty had long been terminally ill.

A Monarch like that... King Liang was no longer fit to rule.

Under the moonlit sky, he watched for as long as she worked to save them...

The next day, he secretly ordered his men to deliver winter clothes, cotton quilts, food, and medical supplies.

At the same time, he began to plot how to "save the nation."

Whether as a general or as an emperor, one thing remained the same: the duty to protect one’s homeland and shield the people from the suffering of war.

He never wanted to see that look of sorrow on her face again, the one she wore as she knelt to save lives. He had yet to see her smile; he couldn’t even imagine what it would look like.

And yet, seeing her again... he was disappointed.

Ji Qingwu saw the Emperor’s gaze deepen as he stared at her without speaking.

’I thought I did pretty well just now,’ she mused. ’But Emperor Wu Su’s expression... he looks like he’s lost in a memory.’

’And I bet that memory has something to do with me.’

’Did my mentioning Wei Ting just now make him dredge up all that old history? I can barely remember any of it myself, so what’s the point of him remembering it so clearly?’

She interrupted his reminiscence, taking the initiative to ask, "Your Majesty, did I do a good job today?"

As she spoke, she blinked her bright eyes at him, full of expectation.

Emperor Wu Su pulled himself from his memories and focused on the woman before him. He nodded. "Very good."

’Just those two words and nothing more?’

Ji Qingwu was dissatisfied, but the smile on her face grew even brighter. "Your Majesty," she asked, "have you considered giving me some kind of reward?"

’She’s certainly gotten bolder, daring to ask me for a reward.’

Watching her lips curve into a smile, her eyes sparkling with life, Emperor Wu Su felt his own spirits lift.

’Good. She’s finally smiling at me now.’

His voice was clear and crisp, and he asked in a good mood, "Ah Wu, what do you want?"

The question carried the weight of a promise to pluck the stars from the sky for her.

The moment he spoke, Ji Qingwu’s eyes darted around. She immediately pointed to the wilted flowers and herbs on the ground, and then to a nearby Wutong tree that had lost many of its leaves and branches.

"Your Majesty is omnipotent, so this should be no problem for you. I want this courtyard restored to its original state."

’My poor, innocent little courtyard suffered a completely unwarranted disaster because of them.’

Emperor Wu Su’s expression tightened. "You two, get in here."

Sanchuan and Si Hai did not appear in a flash as they usually would.

Emperor Wu Su frowned, wondering what had happened to them.

Ji Qingwu took a small porcelain bottle from her sleeve and reminded him, "Your Majesty, they can’t use their Qinggong."

Emperor Wu Su’s gaze paused, fixed on the bottle in her hand.

Ji Qingwu held it out on her palm, looking rather pleased with herself. "Does Your Majesty like this small heart-shaped bottle? I had a special set of molds made to fire them. They come in a set of twelve colors."

’It was just like the brightly colored little bottles scattered on the ground of that tea shed in Ninghe Town.’

Ji Qingwu seemed to remember something and sighed. "It’s a pity. There were originally twelve bottles in this set, but I lost the sky-blue one somewhere and forgot all about it."

Hearing this, an unnatural flicker passed through Emperor Wu Su’s eyes. He gave a light cough and asked, "Why can’t Sanchuan and the others use their Qinggong? What did you do?"

Ji Qingwu shook the small bottle in her hand. "They had the nerve to fight in my courtyard and damage my precious medicinal herbs, so I just sprinkled a little powder on them."

’She talked about drugging them as casually as sprinkling seasoning on a meal.’

Emperor Wu Su could only shake his head with a helpless smile.

Ji Qingwu explained, "The powder isn’t harmful to the body. It just temporarily converts their Inner Strength into heat, which then dissipates. They’ll be fine after two hours."

’It was strange. Sometimes, Emperor Wu Su really wanted to pry open that little head of hers and see what was inside.’

He asked, "Where do you find so many strange and unusual medicines?"

When asked about this, Ji Qingwu said evasively, "Your Majesty, never mind that. Any later and all my medicinal herbs will die."

Considering she had just personally asked for a reward, Emperor Wu Su glanced at the wilted herbs.

"A few of these look like they’re from Nanchu," he said. "I’ll find some more for you. We’ll have them planted in your Wutong Garden in a few days."

Ji Qingwu had already trotted off to fetch a shovel, a rake, and a pair of shears.

She thrust a watering can into his hands.

"Since Sanchuan and Si Hai are Your Majesty’s men, Your Majesty also bears responsibility for their poor supervision."

Emperor Wu Su: ...