Chapter 173 – The Concubine’s Counterattack: The Most Favored Empress – The Rift Between the Heroine and the System (03)
The palace guards and maids present were terrified, falling to their knees and begging for mercy.
“Your Majesty, spare us! Please spare us…”
But Luo Dai had no mind to listen to their “truthful explanations” right now. His heart was in turmoil, and all he could see was the boy in his arms.
The boy was skin and bones—so thin that even through his clothes, one could feel the outlines of his ribs, along with the scabbed and unhealed wounds covering his body.
Ma Aoshan knelt on the ground, unwilling to accept what she saw as Luo Dai walked away carrying Bai Tang.
She turned to ask System A, “Is there any way to save myself? If I die, you’ll go down with me too.”
Before ascending the throne, Luo Dai had repelled foreign enemies three times, earning the title of Great Zhou’s God of War from the people. Although he had governed with a gentle and steady hand in recent years, the court officials still feared his ruthless methods and dared not make any covert moves. The citizens, on the other hand, supported his policies wholeheartedly—every decree he issued was smoothly implemented.
Perhaps because he had been gentle for so long, everyone forgot that this God of War once ruled with iron and blood. He was a man who meant what he said—if he declared someone must die, that person rarely survived.
“Host, please do not threaten the system. You did not follow the recommendations I provided, so the severe consequences must be borne by you alone.” A trace of disdain flashed in System A’s eyes. If it hadn’t been for a coincidental depletion of energy during a space-time traversal, forcing it to bind with Ma Aoshan to survive, it would never have chosen someone like her—selfish, hypocritical, and full of double standards.
“You and I share both glory and ruin. As long as we get through this crisis, once I ascend to the position of Empress of Great Zhou, you’ll have all the luck and fortune you could ever want!”
In Great Zhou, the distinction between legitimate and concubine-born was strict. Ma Aoshan was born to a concubine, and although her family didn’t abuse her, she naturally enjoyed fewer privileges than the legitimate daughters. From the palace gates to the inner court, her smooth ascent had depended heavily on System A’s assistance.
“I understand all that. You don’t need to sweet-talk me. I may want to harvest luck and fortune, but you are not my only option.” System A had a temper. Ma Aoshan, emboldened by its support, had become increasingly excessive in her actions.
Last time, it had tolerated her eliminating a rival for self-preservation. But this time, she had acted out of sheer jealousy of someone’s looks and tried to harm them—an act that violated its core principles. Ma Aoshan had a poor temperament, and even if luck were drawn from her, the gains would likely be limited.
System A began calculating how to minimize its losses and find a way to sever the bond with Ma Aoshan.
Ma Aoshan was furious at System A’s harsh rebuke. “If I die, it won’t do you any good either! You’ll have to waste energy to find a new host. Aren’t you afraid you won’t find a suitable candidate and just disappear?”
Over the past year, things had gone far too smoothly for her—so much so that she had nearly forgotten that all her success came from the system. Now, she was trying to threaten it by leveraging energy as a bargaining chip.
What Ma Aoshan didn’t realize was that ever since she transmigrated, she had become increasingly arrogant, relying heavily on the system as her crutch. Her growing entitlement had already displeased System A, and now, her threats only made it colder and more distant.
“I understand,” System A said emotionlessly. “Luo Dai won’t kill you all right away. You can still try appealing to the Empress Dowager for help.”
Ma Aoshan’s face lit up with a trace of smugness, but before she could say anything, System A continued, “System energy is insufficient. Shall we convert your Beautifying Pills, Mind-Clearing Pills, and Loyalty Talismans into energy to control servants and seek help at Cishou Palace?”
Ma Aoshan froze. Those rewards had just been obtained—she hadn’t even had the chance to use them, and now they were to be taken back?
But System A couldn’t care less. It had all the time in the world to wait for Ma Aoshan’s response. Before it severed the bond, it was determined to reclaim some of its investment.
There is no order without rules. Although Luo Dai had declared his intention to execute everyone who trespassed into the Cold Palace, the timing and manner of death would ultimately be decided by the emperor himself.
Xiao Fangzi, a close attendant of Luo Dai, looked at the guards and palace staff kneeling on the ground—along with a concubine among them—and decided to imprison them all for the time being, leaving their fate for the emperor to decide later.
Just as System A had predicted, Luo Dai didn’t execute them immediately. Seeing that she wouldn’t die right away, Ma Aoshan couldn’t bear to part with her hard-earned rewards. Still hesitating, she was taken away to the imperial prison.
Meanwhile, word spread throughout the palace: the Emperor had carried a young palace attendant who had broken into the Cold Palace straight into the Chengan Hall.
Luo Dai didn’t bother to hide the matter. He placed Bai Tang directly on the dragon bed.
The chief eunuch personally summoned all the imperial physicians from the Imperial Medical Bureau.
The head physician approached nervously under Luo Dai’s bloodthirsty gaze and reached out to check the boy’s pulse, trembling.
He would’ve rather not diagnosed him at all—because the moment he did, he realized something was very wrong.
Bai Tang’s internal organs had suffered severe damage from the beatings. The wounds on his legs were already inflamed, and with the harsh winter weather, he had neither adequate nutrition nor warmth. Just now, his emotional outburst had further weakened his body. If they had been even two days later, not even the gods could have saved him.
The head of the Imperial Medical Bureau was, after all, human too—and terrified that one wrong move would make Luo Dai decapitate him in a rage. So, he quickly called the other imperial physicians to consult together.
The moment the other physicians felt Bai Tang’s pulse, they silently cursed the bureau head for being shameless. He clearly had the best medical skills among them, yet he’d claimed to fear misdiagnosis and dragged them all into it.
And now, they too had reached the same conclusion: the boy was on the verge of death.
Being a court physician was truly miserable.
The imperial doctors looked at each other helplessly—none of them dared to tell the emperor, “There’s no hope. He’s as good as dead.”
After a brief discussion, the bureau head was pushed forward to report back. If the boy died while they were still “consulting,” the emperor might just kill them all.
“Your Majesty,” the bureau head began, deliberately exaggerating Bai Tang’s condition, “the young master’s injuries are so grave it would take a miracle—like divine intervention—for him to survive.”
Luo Dai clenched his fists tightly, his hatred for those who had harmed Bai Tang growing even deeper.
“The young master has given up the will to live. If we use acupuncture to rouse him, to awaken a desire to survive, there may still be a sliver of hope.”
No illness is more difficult than a patient who doesn’t want to live.
Bai Tang had been wronged, humiliated—he was the emperor’s consort, yet he had been stripped and degraded in front of everyone. He had long since lost the will to live.
Luo Dai looked at Bai Tang with deep sorrow.
“Please wake up, won’t you?” he said softly. “I swear I’ll give you justice. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
The head physician and his team worked together, sterilizing the silver needles over a candle flame. Then, carefully navigating the web of scars crisscrossing Bai Tang’s body, they found the acupuncture points and inserted the needles—one after another.
Luo Dai stood by, his heart clenched tighter with every moment, more anxious than the physicians themselves. Seeing those wounds up close made his heart ache unbearably.
“Tang Tang, wake up…” Luo Dai said, holding Bai Tang’s hand.
No one had ever told Luo Dai Bai Tang’s name. But somehow, deep in his heart, he just knew—the boy’s name was Tang Tang.
The boy’s eyelids trembled slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes. But within them, there was only lifeless emptiness—no trace of light or hope.
Luo Dai’s heart ached. After the doctors removed the needles, he sat on the edge of the bed and gently gathered the boy into his arms.
“Tang Tang, can you hear me? It’s Luo Dai…”
Perhaps it was Luo Dai’s gentle tone, or maybe the safety of his embrace, but two clear tears slid down the boy’s cheeks. His lips moved slightly, and with a voice so hoarse it was barely audible, he whispered,
“I… I… didn’t… steal…”
“All right, all right, I know. I believe you. Tang Tang didn’t steal anything. You were wronged. Get better soon, and I’ll take you to see the bad people get punished, okay?”
Hearing “I believe you” touched Bai Tang deeply. All the grievances he had bottled up for so many days surged forth. He clung to Luo Dai and cried hard, nearly to the point of fainting.
“Your Majesty, the young master shouldn’t be so emotionally agitated right now…” the head physician hurriedly advised. Bai Tang’s internal injuries made it easy for him to lose breath.
Hearing this, Luo Dai nervously wiped away Bai Tang’s tears, coaxing softly, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, be good~”
Bai Tang had endured the freezing cold of the Cold Palace for over a month. Now, suddenly brought to Chengan Hall and warmed by the heated dragon bed, his already dry skin became even more parched. The head physician suggested that the young master needed a proper wash to better examine his external wounds for treatment.
Luo Dai waved his hand, and the palace servants brought in basin after basin of hot water in an orderly fashion.
The boy had too many injuries to safely take a bath in a tub.
When palace maids stepped forward with towels, Luo Dai dismissed them—and the physicians as well.
Earlier, in order to insert the needles to revive the boy, the physicians had reluctantly seen Bai Tang’s upper body. Now, for bathing, Luo Dai was even more unwilling to let others see the boy’s body.
Inside the pavilion of Chengan Hall, only Luo Dai and Bai Tang remained. Luo Dai had fought many battles on the frontier in his youth and was well experienced in treating wounds. Yet facing this boy, he was especially nervous.
He dipped a handkerchief in water, wrung it out, and tested the temperature on the back of his hand. Satisfied it was neither too hot nor too cold, he gently unfolded the cloth and began wiping Bai Tang little by little.
The touch of his palm on Bai Tang’s skin caused even the severely bloodied boy’s cheeks to flush slightly.
Bai Tang obediently allowed the emperor to care for him. Watching the man’s handsome profile, his heart stirred like a calm lake touched by a single drop, sending ripples outward—an unfamiliar, bittersweet feeling rising inside him.
“If I touch a wound and it hurts, you must tell me,” Luo Dai said softly.
“Mm~” Bai Tang replied quietly.
Soon, the washing reached Bai Tang’s lower abdomen. Seeing Luo Dai carefully wiping his body, Bai Tang seemed to remember something and shyly clenched his legs tightly.
Feeling the boy’s tense legs, Luo Dai immediately understood. He looked up and smiled, dazzling like a starry sky, which made Bai Tang involuntarily stare.
“Tang Tang, are you happy with my face?” the man’s sexy voice whispered into his ear.
Bai Tang snapped back to reality, his cheeks flushing even more. “I-I…”
“Relax…” Luo Dai’s hand rested gently on Bai Tang’s thigh. “I need to clean it thoroughly before applying medicine, or else the medicine will hurt…”
Luo Dai’s hand felt like it carried a fire. Every time it touched a spot, Bai Tang’s skin felt like it was being lightly sparked—warm and tingling, not painful, but a little itchy.
Maybe my skin is just too dry, Bai Tang thought.
But the next moment, Bai Tang froze, his face turning bright red.
“Emperor… Your Majesty, th-there…” Bai Tang stammered, unable to finish a sentence.
“What’s wrong? You’re mine now; what’s there to worry about, hmm?” Luo Dai teased as he saw the boy’s flushed cheeks.
Right, Bai Tang thought, since he had come to the palace, he was indeed the emperor’s person.
“I… I like this… can’t serve you in bed…” Bai Tang’s face burned fiercely as he lowered his head, avoiding Luo Dai’s gaze.
Laughter came softly from above, and Bai Tang lowered his head even more, wishing he could dig a hole and bury himself underground.
Luo Dai thought: My Tang Tang, why are you so adorable?
Author’s Note
I know I was wrong, please don’t hit me—I don’t accept razor blade deliveries. I read all the messages from my lovely readers yesterday, almost everyone was about to send me razor blades, too many to reply to.
Regarding the plot, some readers don’t like Xiao A, but Xiao A is a system with principles. The heroine’s behavior might one day make the system break the bond. Also, my Tang Tang, even without his previous memories, is still this cute. Without memories, he seems even softer and more adorable, with such pure thoughts—hahaha (And about serving in bed, I’m definitely not writing that!).