The Sickly Emperor Is Only Immune to Me-Chapter 338 - 335: Deserved It

"What are you talking about? I am Sang Yan."

Qing Wu tried her best to feign calm, steadying him while changing the subject, "Look! You’re having an attack again!"

Red bumps spread rapidly from He Ying’s hands to his neck.

He Ying had endured too many attacks, but none were as severe as this one.

This attack was a sign from heaven.

The former Sang Yan never caused him to have an attack.

So, she wasn’t his Sang Yan.

Then where was his Sang Yan?

Where?

"Don’t lie to me! You are not her!"

He should have realized it sooner!

Why had he delayed until now?

He Ying couldn’t forgive his own dullness.

Had he noticed the differences between them sooner, might he have found Sang Yan already?

The more he thought about it, the more it pained him.

He yelled furiously, and due to excessive movement, the wound on his chest split open—blood quickly soaked his clothes.

"Emperor! Calm down, Emperor!"

Pei Muyang, standing by, was pleased with the light and cheerful atmosphere a moment ago; he didn’t expect everything to change so suddenly.

What did the Emperor just mean?

The Empress wasn’t the Empress?

He didn’t have time to contemplate, he rushed to support the Emperor, shouting, "Someone come quickly! The Emperor’s wound has burst open! Go call Doctor Luo!"

Meanwhile, he took a few steps back, helping the Emperor and glaring at "Sang Yan" with caution, "Empress, you, you—"

Are you still the Empress?

Before he could voice the question, Pei Muyang was pushed aside by He Ying.

"What are you standing there for? Arrest her!"

He Ying, drained of strength, pushed Pei Muyang and then collapsed toward the bed.

He sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, panting orders, "Someone! Someone! Quick! Arrest her!"

The guards rushed in upon hearing him.

Upon hearing the Emperor’s words and seeing who the Emperor pointed at, they were baffled—was the Emperor telling them to arrest the Empress?

"Hurry! She, she is fake!"

He Ying shouted at the impostor, his voice nearly breaking.

The guards, seeing the Emperor’s resolute attitude, hesitated briefly before moving to arrest her.

Of course, they first said, "Empress, please forgive our rudeness."

"How dare you!"

Qing Wu didn’t want to wait to be captured; she loudly dismissed the guards and looked at He Ying, "Emperor, you’re mad!"

He Ying indeed was almost mad.

He realized the woman he faced these days was not Sang Yan—first came overwhelming panic, then boundless heartache.

Where was his Sang Yan? Was she still safe?

Oh, how delicate she was, without him by her side, what would she do!

Tears fell.

His heartache nearly killed him.

"Who are you! Where is Sang Yan!"

He clutched his bleeding chest, stood up shakily, rushed forward, grabbed her shoulders, and demanded in pain, "Where is Sang Yan! What have you done with her?"

He couldn’t finish his sentence; his throat burned, and a mouthful of blood sprayed out.

"Emperor!"

People throughout the hall cried out in shock.

But He Ying could hear nothing.

He felt the world go silent, as if his soul had departed his body, even seeing himself fall heavily.

Sang Yan... Oh Sang Yan...

Return my Sang Yan to me...

*

Beiqi Palace

Fengyi Palace

Sang Yan woke from a nightmare, "Xinyuan! Xinyuan!"

She screamed, opening her eyes to see the familiar room, and tears fell.

Still in Beiqi!

Could she ever return to Da He in this lifetime?

Would she ever see him from Da He again?

"Xinyuan... I miss you so much..."

She cried softly, whispering the name of her beloved.

You Ran, who was on watch duty, heard a noise and quickly got up to ask, "Miss, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell, or did you have a nightmare?"

Sang Yan didn’t reply, turned her back, and pulled up the covers to continue crying.

No one could help her.

You Ran’s concern meant nothing to her.

All she wanted was to return to He Ying’s side.

Unfortunately, she could now only see him in her dreams.

She repeatedly recalled how he appeared in her dreams: frail, his complexion deathly pale, the wound on his chest torn open again, blood flowing fiercely.

He pressed on his wound, grabbing her hand, desperately saying, "Ah Yan, where did you go? Come back quickly! Come back!"

As he spoke, a mouthful of blood sprayed out.

She woke up frightened and heartbroken.

He Ying...

You must be well.

You must be okay.

*

Taian Palace

It had just dawned.

Wuya had just awakened and was planning to sleep in lazily when he heard that Sang Yan had a nightmare and had cried for a long time.

"She is timid. And quite the cry-baby. Never mind."

He thought of her, lost interest in lazing around, and promptly threw off the covers to get out of bed.

When the palace maids saw this, they rushed forward with clothes to help him dress.

Finding them too slow, and eager to see her, he waved them off, saying, "No need. I’ll do it myself."

He quickly dressed.

The palace maids brought hot water.

After a quick wash, he grabbed a red cloak, wrapped it around himself, and despite the severe cold, went outside.

The cold wind howled.

It made his cloak flutter wildly.

He couldn’t even keep his hat on.

It was too cold.

In such cold weather, one ought to stay indoors, under heavy covers, oblivious to time.

If it weren’t for Sang Yan.

But having her, he was constantly worried, fearing even the slightest discomfort for her.

"Emperor, be careful. The ground is slippery."

A Palace Attendant, seeing him walking too fast, softly reminded him.

Just as the attendant finished speaking, Wuya almost slipped.

"Emperor!"

A guard, quick with his reflexes, rushed forward to support him.

Wuya, startled, lost his composure, appearing quite disheveled.

Luckily, he wasn’t too concerned about appearances, steadied himself, and continued on.

About fifteen minutes later

He arrived at Fengyi Palace.

The palace was brightly lit, warm, and fragrant.

"Greetings, Emperor—"

Upon seeing him, the palace attendants all knelt to pay respects.

Wuya ignored them, gestured for them to rise, and went straight to the person in bed.

Knowing Wuya had arrived, Sang Yan kept her back to him and pretended to sleep.

"Sang Yan? Yanyan?"

Wuya quickly approached the bed and softly called her name a few times.

Sang Yan pretended to sleep, ignoring him.

Knowing she was feigning sleep, Wuya didn’t call out again; instead, he reached his hand into the blanket.

The blanket was too warm.

He swore he just wanted to warm his hands.

But warming them, he "accidentally" touched her back.

Wearing soft pajamas, her skin warm, soft, slick, and fragrant, was tempting.

"What are you doing!"

Sang Yan felt a chill on her back and afraid he might do something else, she quickly turned around, clutched the blanket closer, and moved farther away from him.

Seeing her defensive posture, Wuya wasn’t annoyed but teased with a smile, "Not pretending to sleep anymore?"

Sang Yan, lost for a retort, changed the subject, "What are you doing here?"

Wuya smiled gently, honestly saying, "I heard you were crying and was very worried. To see you, you see, I got up early, braving the cold and frost, my fingers frozen stiff."

Sang Yan was unsympathetic, coldly sneering, "You deserve it!"

Hearing this, he laughed wickedly, with a teasing tone, "Right, I deserve it, I’m the villain, you’re the good one. So, good one, won’t you warm my hands?"

Saying so, he reached his hand back under the blanket.

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