Investing in the Reborn Empress, She Actually Calls Me ‘Husband’

The Imperial Garden, Heart of the Lake Pavilion.

Not long after Li Mo and Ying Bing had departed, Jiang Yu—clad in a white robe embroidered with silver-threaded qilin patterns, a longsword hanging at his waist, his dual-pupiled eyes calm—was also announced into the pavilion by palace attendants.

Yet all he saw was Emperor Jingtai’s back. Though he could not see the emperor’s expression, he could feel the weight of his authority.

Jiang Yu’s dual pupils caught sight of the two additional teacups on the table, and his fists clenched involuntarily.

“Father, your son has arrived late.”

“Why have you come?”

Emperor Jingtai did not turn around, instead posing the question in return.

Jiang Yu stared at his back. “The Rivers and Mountains Scroll is the foundation of the state. As both your subject and your son, it is my duty to share your burdens. I beg you, Father, allow me to enter the city as well.”

Emperor Jingtai gazed at the lake as he spoke:

“I am not at ease.”

“Your son can take care of himself—”

“The Rivers and Mountains Scroll remains the domain of our Jiang family. Your safety is not in question.”

Emperor Jingtai shook his head, his tone casual. “What I am not at ease about is that your presence may prove counterproductive.”

“Your son… has at least heeded the teachings of my mentors and assisted you in governance.”

Jiang Yu’s knuckles whitened, his voice rising slightly. “The Celestial City governs a great nation as one would cook a small fish—there, I can be of use.”

“I, too, have been reading lately. Since you speak so, I shall test you. Recently, I have been studying texts on flood control. Do you have any insights on the matter?”

“Your Majesty, I have just finished reading Annotations on Rivers and Canals and Records of the Tianhua Treasure Ships.”

Emperor Jingtai’s expression relaxed, as if this were merely a casual conversation between father and son.

His questions were offhand, and Jiang Yu answered fluently, quoting classics with ease.

After a long while, Emperor Jingtai turned around and approached Jiang Yu. Pouring a cup of tea for his bowing, respectful son, he asked:

“Without studying history, one cannot understand rise and fall. Have you delved into the annals of previous dynasties?”

“Your Majesty, I have just read The Fall of Shanglu—”

“What a coincidence.”

Emperor Jingtai’s voice abruptly lost all warmth.

“The texts I tested you on were obscure, yet you happened to know them all. Whatever I read, you read. I perused The Fall of Shanglu the day before yesterday, and last night, you had it in your hands.”

“Could it be that your study is larger than the Imperial Study?”

Tea spilled over the cup’s rim, soaking the ground.

Jiang Yu’s breath hitched. His dual pupils lifted to meet Emperor Jingtai’s gaze—and in it, he saw disappointment.

“You are clever, but not wisely so. You cannot emulate Chu Ge, nor can you emulate me.”

“In wickedness, you lack the ruthlessness and cunning to see things through to the end. In virtue, your mercy ebbs and flows, too easily swayed by external forces. You call yourself clever, yet your cleverness is wasted on infiltrating my Imperial Study.”

“The Fourth Realm is called the Inner Landscape—it reflects the scenery of one’s heart. I have been waiting for you to tidy yours.”

Jiang Yu’s dual pupils dulled, his body drenched in cold sweat.

His fingernails dug into his palms as he forced himself into a stiff bow, no longer daring to mention entering the Celestial City.

“Your son… takes his leave…”

Yet just as he turned to go, a voice called from behind:

“Go, if you still wish to.”

“…As you command.”

……

Meanwhile, in the Hall of Mountains and Rivers.

“Jiang Yu arrived even later than us?”

Li Mo watched him enter, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

But he had no interest in speaking to Jiang Yu.

He’d rather spend the time discussing strategy with the ice block beside him.

A short while later, two elderly men entered the hall.

One was slightly familiar—Qian Gong. The other, older and with an indistinct aura, stood beside him.

Qian Gong spoke: “Today, you enter the Celestial City. I assume you are prepared, so I will not waste words. Rise.”

Once the three had stood, he exchanged a glance with the other elder.

Simultaneously, they stomped their feet.

Instantly, the empty hall’s floor lit up with intricate patterns.

This hall was never meant for habitation or storage.

Its floor was inscribed with an abridged version of the Rivers and Mountains Scroll—a conduit to the original.

Qian Gong and the other elder, each wielding their respective Dao, served as the keys to unlock its mysteries.

Heaven and earth inverted. The surroundings expanded and shrank in disorienting shifts.

Li Mo immediately lost all sense of direction. His vision swam with kaleidoscopic distortions, as if he were experiencing a lucid cycle of reincarnation.

Gaps yawned in his memory, as though an eraser were smudging it away.

“Entering the Celestial City, only the true self remains.”

Qian Gong’s voice echoed from the void.

This was not by their design—it was a remnant of the Celestial City’s origins as the Domain of the Heavenly Phoenix.

A reflection of one’s innermost heart.

It was this very trait that ensured the Inner Landscape remained pure, perfectly attuned to the self.

“To forget the past, leaving only the true self… What, then, lies within mine?”

Li Mo’s thoughts grew muddled, yet he dared not dwell on them.

He was a transmigrator. And he had a system.

If those were exposed, he was finished.

Unless they, too, were not his foundation…

But what else could there be?

Suddenly.

A clear, familiar voice whispered in his ear:

“Li Mo, I will come for you.”

The words still lingered when darkness swallowed him whole.

……

Above the Imperial Capital.

The Rivers and Mountains Scroll unfurled fully, rippling like rolling waves.

All other divine phenomena faded, leaving only the Celestial City’s silhouette visible—a majestic triad of inner, middle, and outer cities. In the shadows of that world, unseen gazes lurked.

“They’ve entered the Celestial City!”

Xie Xuan, having been there once, warned gravely.

“I’ve heard that upon entering, one undergoes a rebirth?” Huang Donglai asked.

“Indeed. The greater one’s talent, the higher their starting point—usually within the Heavenly City,” Xie Xuan explained.

Murong Xiao mused, “This resembles the ‘cycle of rebirth’ described in that scripture Brother Li gave me.”

“Being born directly in the Heavenly City grants innate divine gifts—a higher starting point makes everything that follows easier.”

Xiao Qin had just heard the Thousand Forms Martial Venerable’s account.

In that ancient era, the Celestial City was but a prototype, and entry was not limited to the top three of the Hidden Dragons.

Thus, newcomers descended into all three cities—Heaven, Earth, and Man. He himself had once been born in the Earth City.

But given Li Mo and Junior Sister Bing’s talents, they would surely land in the Heavenly City.

As for Jiang Yu? None present cared.

On the projection—

“A new clansman has descended.”

A group of Celestials clad in white robes, each bearing divine traits, stood on the welcoming platform. Some were wreathed in cyclones, others spoke with thunderous voices, and still others breathed storms into being.

All watched the first streak of light in the sky.

It trailed a long, blazing tail, carving a brilliant violet arc across the heavens.

“Violet! This descendant may be extraordinary!”

“Once grown, they may even earn the divine sword’s recognition!”

“Wait—look! The light is turning gold!”