Chapter 87: Emperor Jing's Extra Chapter
After spending some time in the modern world, Emperor Jing had grown quite accustomed to life here.
It was a strange twist of fate—when he'd opened his eyes after death, he'd found himself in a hospital. Some hikers had discovered him unconscious in a corner at the foot of a mountain, called the police, and brought him in.
At first, Emperor Jing had been rather shaken. Everything around him was completely different from Da Qi. There was no emperor here, no ruler and subjects. Men didn't have to marry in their teens, nor did they wear their hair long. And women—women faced none of the old restraints.
They could wear whatever clothes they liked, bare their arms and legs, and no man would expect to marry them just for stealing a second glance.
It was all strange and unsettling, but Emperor Jing found himself quietly drawn to it.
Life without chains was the best kind of life. Compared to this, his old existence had just been a cage.
When Emperor Jing first woke up, he knew next to nothing. Fortunately, he was shrewd enough to keep his mouth shut. Faced with endless questions in this unfamiliar place, he said as little as possible—and when he did speak, it was never more than two words. He'd spent a lifetime playing the emperor on Da Qi's throne, so he knew exactly how to control his expressions and his gaze. No one noticed anything amiss.
In the end, the doctors could only diagnose him with memory loss. He had no ID, no home, no acquaintances. The police officers who'd brought him in had even covered his medical bills out of their own pockets.
At least he was healthy and clear-headed enough to face whatever hardships lay ahead.
Emperor Jing was strikingly handsome—sharp brows, piercing eyes, a face of refined elegance. Years of ruling as an absolute sovereign had given him an intimidating bearing that made people instinctively keep their distance. Anyone who met him for the first time would take one look at him and assume he was some billionaire CEO with money to burn, never guessing he didn't have a single coin to his name.
In modern society, though, anyone willing to work wouldn't go hungry.
When Emperor Jing walked out of the hospital, he was completely at a loss. He had no idea what kind of work he could do to keep himself fed.
In this era without an emperor, he'd already set aside all his imperial pride. He asked one of the police officers he'd met—someone who'd shown him kindness—what kind of work he could do. He'd come to understand that in this era, the police were there to help people—and at the very least, they wouldn't deceive him.
The officer sympathized with his situation and told him that handing out flyers or working as a waiter could earn him a living.
But without an ID, things got complicated.
Fortunately, neither Emperor Jing nor the police had to worry for long. Someone stopped Emperor Jing and told him that a man was coming to pick him up.
That man was none other than Shen Yi.
Shen Yi had been born in the modern world, but he'd carried his memories from the womb—perhaps because he'd forgotten to drink Grandma Meng's soup when he passed through the wheel of reincarnation.
As a child, his memories hadn't fully returned. He only knew he was searching for someone. But as he grew older, everything came flooding back. Shen Yi had been born into a wealthy family, and he worked hard his whole life because he understood one thing clearly: only by standing tall could he have a chance of finding the one person he longed for.
After coming of age, Shen Yi took over his family's company. Every year, he posted missing-person notices, offering a handsome reward for any leads.
The photos he provided to the platforms were hand-painted by himself, mass-printed, and distributed with endless time and money. Year after year, he found nothing.
Sometimes Shen Yi wondered if Emperor Jing didn’t exist in this world at all. But then he’d think: what if? What if one day he actually found him? This era was so much better than Da Qi — no strict rules, no divide between ruler and subject, and society was far more accepting of same-sex relationships. As long as it didn’t hurt anyone else, no one cared who they chose to love.
Shen Yi often thought: if he could be with Emperor Jing here, that would be the greatest fortune of all.
With such a hefty reward, tips naturally came in. Shen Yi always went to meet the leads in person. Some looked remarkably like Emperor Jing—but Shen Yi knew, none of them were him.
And so the years went by, until this year—the year that, by his reckoning, both he and Emperor Jing had died in their past lives.
Shen Yi had a feeling: this year, he would finally see him again.
He poured even more resources into the search, making Emperor Jing's portrait harder to miss.
The hikers who'd found Emperor Jing thought his face looked faintly familiar at first, but they couldn't place it. Then, a few days later, someone happened to come across the missing-person notice online. After some hesitation and discussion, they decided to make the call.
When Shen Yi heard their description, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Even before meeting the man, he already knew—this was the one.
He rushed to the hospital as fast as he could. Thank heaven—they hadn't missed each other again. He caught Emperor Jing just before he left.
In this city, many people recognized Shen Yi.
Young, wealthy, and with a clean reputation, he frequently appeared in financial news, magazines, and online. A man like that drew attention wherever he went, and people tended to remember him.
So when Shen Yi showed up, it caused quite a stir.
But Shen Yi had eyes for no one else. The moment he saw Emperor Jing, his expression twisted, and his heart hurt so badly he wanted to double over and curl up on the ground.
He held himself back. Shaking, he walked up to Emperor Jing and said, "I'm taking you away."
Emperor Jing looked at him in silence.
Time seemed to blur, pulling them back to Da Qi. That day, Shen Yi had stumbled out of his room, despair written on his face, his heart already dead. Emperor Jing was standing there, covered in fallen blossoms.
With red-rimmed eyes, Emperor Jing said in a hoarse voice, "Shen Yi, let's leave the capital. I'm taking you away."
Shen Yi just stared at him, taking in his rumpled clothes and the red, bruised marks on his wrists where someone had grabbed him — and the despair swallowed him whole.
He'd crouched on the ground, sobbing openly, knowing he was about to lose the most precious thing in his life—and powerless to stop it.
Now, across oceans of time, he reached out his hand to Emperor Jing and spoke those same words. Yet so much had changed between then and now that he could no longer be sure the man before him would accept.
Emperor Jing looked at Shen Yi—and gave a small nod.
He had nowhere else to go. Following Shen Yi was the best choice.
Shen Yi handled everything from there. He provided all the necessary documentation, and soon Emperor Jing's identity was formally linked to his own.
Shen Yi didn't deal with the bureaucratic details himself; he left his assistant to handle the ID paperwork, while he took Emperor Jing away.
In the car, Emperor Jing's heart beat a little faster—it was his first time riding in one, though he gave no sign of it. Shen Yi drove slowly, and despite the car being worth millions, it was overtaken again and again on the road.
Shen Yi brought Emperor Jing to his home—a private villa with its own courtyard.
Inside, everything was modern and fully equipped. Shen Yi looked at Emperor Jing and asked softly, "Do you like it here? I have another place—it's decorated like an old palace courtyard…"
"No need. This is fine," said Emperor Jing. He had no love for palaces. To be free of all that—that was for the best.
Shen Yi hummed in acknowledgment and led him inside.
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