That being said, she couldn’t help but sense something off.

For instance, the time between entering the mission world and "waking up" now felt unusually long.

Shen Ying didn’t actually have a concrete sense of how long this blank period had lasted, but it just felt different from before.

So she tried calling out to the system: "System? System, you there?"

Her mind remained silent, devoid of any response—as if the system had vanished from her consciousness.

Unfazed by the lack of reply, Shen Ying shifted her attention back to the man lying beside her on the pillow.

By now, he had woken up, his eyes slowly opening. His thick, golden lashes framed a pair of sharp, arresting eyes—so breathtakingly handsome it was almost suffocating.

She felt a vague familiarity with him, though that wasn’t unusual. Inheriting the host’s memories and instincts was part of every mission. If the two of them were as intimate as the photos suggested, this made sense.

But the moment his eyes met hers, Shen Ying immediately sensed something unusual.

Given their shared bed and supposed relationship—even if it was a strained one—his initial expression was oddly out of place.

The striking blond man, upon seeing her, first displayed a flicker of unfamiliar curiosity.

Then came a hidden undercurrent of anticipation and satisfaction, almost vengeful, yet devoid of malice.

In her previous line of work, reading people had been a fundamental skill, so she knew she wasn’t mistaken.

And that made things interesting. Even with her vast experience, she couldn’t decipher the origin of his emotions.

Her lack of memories was a vulnerability, but Shen Ying had no intention of playing along to fish for information. This man clearly knew everything.

There wasn’t a trace of confusion in his gaze.

So she cut straight to the point: "Who are you?"

The emperor, despite having braced himself for this, found her openly bewildered expression refreshing. She had lost all memory of the Sky Prison, and now, just as he had once hoped, her eyes were fixed solely on him.

He eagerly anticipated her experiencing the same pain he had—when she later discovered the truth.

With that in mind, the emperor—who was ordinarily a terrible liar—lowered his voice and said, "You don’t remember? We just got married yesterday."

"You schemed relentlessly to get me, and now you’ve lost your memory the very next morning? What’s the meaning of this?"

Shen Ying eyed him skeptically. "Really?"

The emperor kept a straight face. "You really forgot? From the moment we first met, you pursued me relentlessly, manipulated me at every turn, took every chance to get your hands on me. You said you were madly in love with me."

"None of that rings a bell?"

He wasn’t entirely lying. Just last night, hadn’t this shameless woman said all sorts of things?

Shen Ying still looked unconvinced, her gaze scrutinizing his face.

The emperor’s pride prickled. Who was he? A man of unparalleled status, bearing, and looks—the most sought-after in the entire universe.

Was his word really so unbelievable?

Seeing the man’s expression shift to If you don’t believe me, I’ll throw a fit, Shen Ying decided she’d pushed far enough.

She nodded. "Fair. Your face is exactly my type."

The ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‍crown prince snorted arrogantly. Of course. He’d known from the start she’d had designs on him.

Shen Ying pressed on. "Then why did I lose my memory?"

The emperor hadn’t expected her to admit it outright, tossing the explanation back at him. Flustered, he improvised, "How should I know? Maybe you hit your head somewhere yesterday?"

"Your friends were making a racket. Should I call a medic to check you?"

Shen Ying waved a hand. "No need."

She felt no physical discomfort, nor any sign of head trauma.

His excuse was clearly fabricated, but there was no need to call him out yet.

Instead, she said, "Tell me about yourself. As the person closest to me, I want to remember you as soon as possible."

Though he’d orchestrated this lie and revenge himself, hearing her words sent an unexpected flicker of sweetness through him.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Nothing much to say. I’m just an ordinary office worker. Both my parents are gone, and my past is unremarkable."

"If you want to recall our history, you can look through photos, or I can take you to the places you used to stalk me."

Shen Ying ignored the last remark. This man clearly didn’t know her well enough.

When had she ever needed to stalk a man she fancied? She had far more refined methods of securing both body and heart.

But the biggest hole in his story was his claimed identity.

Parents deceased might be true, but an ordinary office worker?

She studied the regal aura practically radiating off him—his bearing, his presence. At the very least, he had to be a national leader.

The most glaring slip was his casual mention of summoning a medic to examine her.

No ordinary employee could call medical personnel to their home on demand. And the term medic itself was telling.

This secret was shaping up to be far more intriguing than she’d thought. Shen Ying’s interest was piqued.

Her gaze lingered on him, and the emperor, mistaking her silence for lingering doubt, quickly changed the subject.

Rising from the bed, he said, "I need to get to work. Make me breakfast."

Shen Ying replied, "Sure."

Then she began unbuttoning his sleek, restrained black sleepwear.

The emperor’s ears flushed instantly. "N-no, you don’t need to help me change. I can handle that myself."

Shen Ying looked at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about? If I went to such lengths to get you, of course I’m going to enjoy it."

With that, she pushed him down.

By the time the emperor stepped out of the house, his entire being was in a daze.