Chapter 427 – Regent Uncle, We’re Not On The Same Page (End)
And this man, Jun Yulin, was simply too much. He climbed into her bed and still had the audacity to act like it was perfectly natural, without reducing even a single point of his blackening value.
Every night, he promised to let her take the initiative, but before long, he’d start acting shameless, and things would inevitably escalate into all kinds of indescribable acts.
The worst part was—she couldn’t beat him. Once they were on the bed, all that decorum between monarch and minister seemed to vanish from his mind. And come morning, he’d put on this innocent face and say things like, “Let’s try again tonight,” and she—like a fool—kept believing him.
It was infuriating.
Some time later, when the ministers of Great Yan were still worrying that the emperor hadn’t properly filled the imperial harem, a royal edict was finally issued: the Regent, Jun Yulin, was formally granted the title of Emperor’s Consort. The satisfied His Highness the Regent accepted the decree with pleasure, and after giving thanks for the imperial favor, he immediately planned to put his new role into action—
Only to be sternly rejected by Yan Luo.
Finally, the blackening value dropped to 10.
Great Yan’s handling of King Jin this time was swift and forceful, serving as a warning to the neighboring nations who had been eyeing Yan Luo as an easy target. After that, everyone quieted down considerably.
The empire flourished.
Later on, Yan Luo, for the first time in her dimensional travels, experienced what it meant to be a mother—giving birth to a lovely little prince. However, a certain possessive someone, who was still absurdly jealous, never let her spend much time alone with their son.
Finally, when the child had just turned twelve, she managed to toss all the court matters onto his tiny shoulders.
Then she and Jun Yulin went off traveling around the world together.
Jun Yulin’s blackening value continued to hover around five, but Yan Luo wasn’t in any rush.
It was another early spring. Mist and rain mingled, falling in a gentle drizzle outside. Yan Luo and Jun Yulin stood in a small pavilion, watching the rain gradually lighten. The faint scent of peach blossoms drifted toward them.
She couldn’t help but remember that spring—when one of them hadn’t yet turned eighteen, and the other hadn’t fully figured out his own feelings.
Misunderstandings hadn’t been resolved, and sometimes he could still see wariness and fear in her little emperor’s eyes. Even so, the two of them—each with their own thoughts—had agreed to go see the peach blossoms together.
Much like the scene before them now.
Only this time, the blossoms weren’t in the palace, but nestled in the beautiful mountains and rivers.
Jun Yulin still didn’t talk much. He usually wore a stern face, but after spending so much time with him, Yan Luo had gotten used to his awkward nature and that stony expression. Honestly, if he ever smiled cheerfully one day, she’d probably think the world was ending.
And her man—he had to be coaxed, had to be read like a riddle. If she made him upset, he wouldn’t say a word. He’d just sulk, then torment her endlessly at night. It was exhausting.
Still, looking at the scene now, even Jun Yulin couldn’t help but lift the corners of his lips.
The world may change and be full of uncertainties, but just as he once said—this person had become his and his alone: his little emperor.
And that was a wonderful feeling.
“Royal Uncle, viewing the blossoms at this time every year feels like looking back on the past. You’re still just as awkward—not even a little bit changed,” Yan Luo said by his ear, half-complaining.
Jun Yulin’s lips curved faintly. He casually reached out and pulled her into his arms, replying with a soft sentence, “Then shall I accompany Luoluo to see peach blossoms every year from now on?”
Still not straightforward, still couldn’t say any sweet words. Even hearing an ‘I like you’ required his drunken state.
Yan Luo gave him an exasperated glare.
But for the first time, he smiled brightly—though there was one more sentence he never managed to say aloud:
—That day, that glance, that smile of yours, it already conquered my world.