I Just Wanted To Live but I Somehow Became Better Than the Protagonist

53 The High Ground

Ye Yong held a folding fan, gently tapping it against his palm. He needed time to think, lest he speak amiss: “Before I answer Your Majesty, I dare to ask, did you have a beloved in your youth?”

Zhou Suren hadn’t expected Ye Yong to toss the question back at him, which brought to mind the senior sister he had encountered at the sect when he was eighteen. Alas, at that time, he was merely one of many princes, his status unremarkable, his cultivation not particularly high. In the end, he could only watch as she united with a senior brother, standing aside with a smile to offer his blessings.

Now, as emperor, Zhou Suren had a queen and many consorts, but if one were to speak of a lingering beloved, it would undoubtedly be that senior sister.

As the saying goes, what cannot be obtained is forever restless; regret is a kind of beauty.

“Old tales, best left unspoken.” After a brief moment of distraction, Zhou Suren shook his head with a smile.

“It seems Your Majesty has a story of his own.” Having bought himself some time, Ye Yong had already formulated his response: “What is love in this world, that it compels one to pledge life and death? Even as cultivators, we cannot completely sever our emotions and desires. When we meet the right person, we cannot help but fall for them, but does falling in love guarantee we can be together?”

The older ministers present exchanged glances, their eyes flickering as they fell into reminiscence. Noble families often found themselves unable to dictate their own marital affairs, regardless of gender.

“When beautiful youth encounters beautiful things, it is often difficult to achieve a beautiful ending. Ultimately, it comes down to a lack of strength; if one had strength, what need is there to worry about a good outcome?”

“So, what do you mean?”

“Junior wishes to focus on the path of cultivation now. What is meant to be will come in time; what is not meant to be should not be forced. Everything is as fate dictates.”

If speaking to someone of similar age, Ye Yong would directly confess his obsession with training, dismissing any thoughts of love for the time being. But with older folks like Zhou Suren, he had to tread more carefully.

After all, if he didn’t take the scenic route to spark their empathy, they would surely perch upon their elder’s high ground, proclaiming that it was only natural for the young to misunderstand love, that understanding would come with time. Once their empathy was ignited, they would no longer stand aloof; they would weave their own experiences into the conversation. With their cultivation and years, they were already in mid to late life, having gained strength too late, with opportunities lost forever. If given another chance at life, they would undoubtedly double their efforts in their youth, striving to grow stronger to seize and protect all they desired.

Though Ye Yong did not directly answer the question posed by his beloved, his words effectively silenced these “old folks.” After all, they were not genuinely interested in whom Ye Yong favored; they merely sought to use this pretext to gauge whether he was open to the idea of a partner.

As for the female lead, there was no need for concern, for Ye Yong had not revealed whether he had affections for anyone, adding instead that everything was left to fate. Who could say when fate would arrive? What if he simply had no connection with others, but was fated only with these female leads?

Ye Yong glanced back at Qin Shidream. The Empress was lost in thought, gazing at his retreating figure. The moment their eyes met, she hurriedly averted her gaze, pretending to admire the hall’s decor, occasionally popping fruit into her mouth, though the blush on her cheeks betrayed her nervousness and shyness.

Seeing her father and the ministers nodding along, seemingly lost in their own reminiscences, the twenty-third princess, Zhou Xiaodie, leaned over to the twenty princess seated beside her. “Sister Baizhu, who exactly is Young Master Ye Yong’s beloved?”

Such was the nature of a girl unversed in the ways of the world—blunt and straightforward.

Everyone present were cultivators, and the hall was quite spacious; unless one used sound transmission, such whispers could be easily overheard. But Zhou Xiaodie was still in the Qi Refinement stage, without a spiritual vein, and thus could not transmit sound.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask?” Zhou Baizhu, clearly of a similarly simple-minded sort, suggested.

“I’m too shy.”

Just as Ye Yong thought the topic had concluded, these two little (foolish) loves (birds) picked it up again, nearly driving him to exasperation. Fortunately, Zhou Suren had temporarily abandoned his plans to pair him with a princess. The ministers, sharp as they were, sensed the winds and shifted their focus. Ye Yong quickly pretended not to hear, returning to his table to send a message to Ye Wen.

“Seventh Master, we’ve been out for quite a while; shouldn’t we head back soon?”

“No rush. Speaking of which, with six princesses here, big, middle, and small, are you sure none have caught your eye?”

“I’m not here to choose a consort; I’m still young.” In truth, Ye Yong did have a princess in mind—the eleventh princess, Zhou Yunqi. But rather than being drawn to her, he was more interested in the Sacred Book Academy she belonged to, for there resided a female lead he had yet to meet.

The Sacred Book Academy was a gathering of scholars, and as a crystallization cultivator, Ye Yong had no reason to visit just yet. If he had to approach that new female lead early, using Zhou Yunqi as a bridge could work, but the six princesses had no significant plot in the novel. Ye Yong was uncertain what butterfly effect might arise from interacting with one of them.

Ye Wen noticed Ye Yong’s gaze lingering on Zhou Yunqi, mistakenly believing that Ye Yong was quite taken with her but simply too shy to admit it.

After observing Zhou Yunqi for a moment, Ye Wen noted her delicate features, clad in scholar’s robes, exuding an air of quiet elegance—a serene, bookish beauty.

So, Yong’er favors this type of nurturing wife, does he?

Nodding silently, Ye Wen began to exchange glances with Zhou Suren.

54 Discussing Important Matters

Zhou Suren was still lost in the myriad memories of his time spent with his senior sister when he suddenly noticed his friend Ye Wen making exaggerated expressions at him. Though no words were exchanged, he quickly grasped Ye Wen’s intent.

“Since we’ve come, let’s stay here for a few days,” Zhou Suren suggested.

“A few days seems a bit long; one or two days would be just fine,” Ye Wen replied.

The two shared a remarkable understanding—one would propose a duration that felt a touch excessive, while the other would counter with a more palatable timeframe. Their exchange flowed naturally, like a well-rehearsed duet.

Ye Yong found himself ensnared in this exchange. The thought of not having to stay too long, while allowing Seventh Master and his friend to reminisce, and giving himself a chance to wander through the palace, to experience the grandeur of the imperial architecture he had never encountered before, left him with no objections.

As for Qin Shidream, there was no need to say more; everything hinged on Ye Yong’s decisions.

The news of the three esteemed guests quickly spread throughout the entire Great Zhou Dynasty, especially with the illustrious Ye Tianjiao making an appearance in the imperial city. The ministers, nobles, and wealthy merchants each had their own thoughts—most were eager to forge connections with Ye Yong, while a few with less noble intentions pondered whether to plot against him.

As for the outcome of the sparring match between Ye Yong and Zhou Feifan, the outside world remained blissfully unaware. Firstly, the attending ministers dared not offend a prince who was likely to become emperor; secondly, the emperor and the princesses were mindful of family honor and did not wish to embarrass Zhou Feifan too much; finally, neither Ye Wen nor Qin Shidream were the types to gossip, so they would not casually bring it up. Thus, unless Zhou Feifan or Ye Yong themselves spoke of it, the outside world would remain in the dark.

Such developments were all within Ye Yong’s expectations. Otherwise, how could he, who had always sought to remain low-key, suddenly attract attention? He had calculated that no one would leak the information, and he could keep Zhou Feifan in check, preventing him from becoming too arrogant and potentially provoking the main character, thus achieving a roundabout rescue for both the Zhou and Ye families from their dire straits.

With such a fruitful pressure, Ye Yong was confident that the main character would be utterly incapable of handling it. He felt quite pleased, blissfully unaware that Ye Wen and Zhou Suren were already contemplating how to arrange for the Eleventh Princess to be alone with him.

—

Zhou Suren quickly arranged accommodations and, citing the fatigue of travel, instructed the eunuchs to take Ye Yong and the others to rest. He then dismissed the ministers, leaving only the six princesses.

In light of Ye Yong’s earlier remarks, Zhou Suren decided to approach everything from the perspective of the young people’s feelings, avoiding any forced marital bindings.