The employment relationship had ended, yet cooperation and intimacy marked a new beginning.
The two seemed to have returned to how things were before, but now without the undercurrent of exploitation. Their conversation flowed more calmly.
Jiu Yue mentioned Consort Ning, while Sima Qing recounted in detail the several assassination attempts he had encountered at the princess's residence.
"It seems they’re being very cautious," Jiu Yue remarked, sitting down with a candlestick in hand, her expression slightly agitated. "I ran into something similar when I returned from the grasslands last time."
"I’ve already sent Mo Jin and the others to find Nangong Xun," Sima Qing replied, his gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight, speaking unhurriedly. "This matter requires careful planning… but there’s no need to rush. They’re undoubtedly more anxious than we are. For now, all we need is patience."
"You’re right," Jiu Yue exhaled, snapping out of her thoughts as she looked at the rain outside.
"It’s getting late. I should go join His Majesty for dinner now." Having resolved a major matter, Jiu Yue felt lighter. "If you need anything, just let Lianqiao know."
Sima Qing nodded.
The door opened and closed, the gust of wind causing the candlelight to sway wildly.
Silence settled in the room. His eyes fell on the food box—he didn’t need to open it to know the dishes inside had long gone cold.
Sima Qing sat alone for a long time.
He reminded himself inwardly to be content.
……
Jiu Yue hadn’t had a proper rest in ages.
After dinner, she returned to her chambers early for a bath. Tonight, she could finally sleep well!
The system couldn’t help but marvel. "Host, I admit it—I underestimated you before!"
Steam rose around her as Jiu Yue lazily plucked flower petals, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
The system projected the progress bar directly into her mind—
The value now showed 84%.
The newly added portion was a light green 10%.
The system clicked its tongue in amazement. "Host, I’ll never call you a blockhead again!"
Jiu Yue: "……"
Expressionless, she sank deeper into the water, blowing bubbles.
The system continued its effusive praise. "First, you gave him hope by pretending to be drunk on your wedding night, then crushed it the next day by acting cold. And today, you pulled off a contract marriage! Host, you’re a genius! Sima Qing is going to be utterly heartbroken by you!"
Jiu Yue had heard enough. "I’m just cutting my losses."
The system teased, "Sure, keep telling yourself that."
"You don’t understand a thing," Jiu Yue rolled her eyes. "If you really did, you wouldn’t still be asking if I stole Sima Qing’s money."
"Well, it’s suspicious," the system muttered, flipping through the progress bar details. "You said it yourself—your relationship with Sima Qing was transactional. He paid, you worked. Even if you owed him for covering your ‘death,’ that doesn’t explain why you’d feel so guilty…"
"You’re too naive. Debts of gratitude are easy to repay," Jiu Yue sighed, exasperated. "But emotional debts? That’s another story."
The system paused, suddenly realizing something.
It had almost forgotten—they were in the "tragic romance" genre, and the mission metric was "heartbreak value."
"Don’t you want to experience a soul-crushing tragic romance with him?" the system asked.
Jiu Yue’s lips twitched. "Thanks, but no thanks. I’m staying true to my mission."
A soul-crushing tragic romance? Absolutely not!
Once emotions got involved, things became unpredictable.
What if she got so caught up in the tragedy that she ended up wanting to die with Sima Qing? Jiu Yue refused to entertain that possibility.
She was determined to complete this mission and return home.
But to succeed, she had to manipulate Sima Qing’s feelings.
The system tried to make sense of her logic.
"Rejecting tragic romance… but needing to engage in it?" It patted its overheating CPU. "Can you guarantee you’ll stay this clear-headed the whole time?"
Jiu Yue shrugged. "That’s why I proposed the two-year agreement with Sima Qing."
She was exhausted.
Initially, she’d assumed most of the heartbreak value would come from her side. But after seeing the color-coded progress bar, she realized something was off.
It looked more like Sima Qing’s emotional investment.
And his initial affection level was already at 25%… Jiu Yue suddenly felt like she was the second coming of Prince Ping.
This mission required exploiting his sincerity.
And she had no other choice.
Ever since learning Sima Qing was the mission target, Jiu Yue had felt uneasy, unsure how to face him—someone who already had feelings for her and was about to have his heart played with.
"Though I don’t know why he likes me in the first place," Jiu Yue sighed, then rallied herself optimistically. "But two years should be enough to keep everything under control."
With only 16% left on the progress bar, she was confident she could wrap things up within that timeframe.
By then, she wouldn’t let emotions interfere with the mission.
Sima Qing was smart too. He’d understood her implications—he wouldn’t give his whole heart, sparing himself the worst of the heartbreak…
They could both escape the clutches of this cursed tragic romance. For now, this was the best outcome Jiu Yue could envision.
Before leaving, she’d do her best to arrange everything for him. Consider it repayment.
The system, however, seemed dazed. It suddenly recalled the failed cases the main system had mentioned.
Those taskers often believed they could remain perfectly rational, overlooking the role of their mission targets.
By the time they realized how unpredictable those targets were—even if they were virtual, their emotional responses were real—it was too late.
They’d end up getting emotionally invested themselves, doomed to deletion.
Now, looking at Jiu Yue, the system saw her careful planning in a new light.
Not blinded by arrogance, always restrained and clear-headed—she was a player in the game yet remained in control.
The system couldn’t help but cheer.
"Host! I believe in you! You’ll definitely complete this mission!"
Jiu Yue pumped her fist with equal confidence. "Once this is over, I’m filing a request to smash the main system’s CPU!"
That villainous main system—her eternal nemesis!
The system: "……"
Late at night, in the quiet palace.
Consort Ning had been cursing the crown prince and his consort when the secret passage suddenly opened, revealing Lv Jinge crawling out, his face deathly pale.
Startled, she rushed forward—fortunately, she disliked having attendants around, so no one else witnessed this.
"Jinge, you’re poisoned?!" Her expression darkened instantly. "Was it Tang Nanshan?"
She had trained Lv Jinge to be immune to most poisons. Only that old fox Tang Nanshan could give him trouble.
But Lv Jinge shook his head. "Another faction."
Consort Ning quickly fetched her medicinal powders, her eyes widening in shock.
"Aside from Tang Nanshan, there’s someone else who can poison you?"
Lv Jinge’s expression was grave.
"I originally thought this faction wouldn’t clash with us, but now it seems they’ve become a problem," he said. "For now, we’ll need to lay low. If anyone grows suspicious, all our efforts over the years will have been for nothing."
Consort Ning’s heart tightened, but irritation prickled beneath her skin.
Again with retreating, again with hiding. If they waited any longer, Yan Zhaoning would ascend as empress!
Her Heng'er didn’t have that much time left to spare.
Her gaze fell on the vial of powdered medicine before her, and a venomous glint flickered in her eyes.
Men, after all, were unreliable.
This time, she would take matters into her own hands.
