Can I Uninstall This Dating System!? chapter 3.1

Chapter 3: Incompatible Worldviews — “Conquest, dating… of what use are they…” part 1

“You are a system that guides Me to date?”

“Yup, yup!”

Sweet Tub thought for a moment and added, “Your Majesty’s identity is perfect for getting a partner and starting a harem~”

The scent of benzoin floated softly in the air. Since Yu Jing had left, the Emperor finally had a moment of solitude. Closing his book, Ying Xi lay flat on the bed.

Ying Xi had just learned a new term from Sweet Tub: Dating.

In Great Qin, there was a similar written expression for this concept: Discussing marriage.

But Sweet Tub seemed to have a different opinion. Sweet Tub said that dating didn’t necessarily have to end in marriage. This struck Ying Xi as slightly odd, though he didn’t say so aloud.

As a brand-new Emperor capable of rebirth, Ying Xi was trying to understand all these anomalies.

His cognitive ability was excellent. Though he sat at the very pinnacle of power—proud and aloof—he was also polite. His voice was magnetic and pleasing to the ear, which made Sweet Tub super satisfied and more than happy to chatter away in front of its host.

“Your Majesty, this System will definitely help you conquer every NPC in Great Qin!” Sweet Tub seemed to pat its chest in guarantee.

However, since it had no physical form in front of Ying Xi, he could only perceive it through sound. He roughly understood the meaning of “conquer.”

Ying Xi asked indifferently, “Conquest, dating… of what use are they?”

Sweet Tub stalled.

It felt as if a massive question had been dropped on its head, a concept so macro it couldn’t find the words to describe it.

Sweet Tub never expected that the host it bound—who possessed both ability and charm—would be so emotionally dense. It was a bit dumbfounded.

Still, it tried to enlighten him: “If you have a partner, Your Majesty will have someone to keep you company.”

Ying Xi glanced through the door at the hundreds of guards standing watch, and the palace maids and eunuchs ready to serve at a moment’s notice. “I have company.”

“Ahhh, no! A partner!?”

“Subordinates.”

“Oh. But you can’t bare your heart to them. A partner is a soulmate,” Sweet Tub explained. “Your Majesty can share secrets and heartfelt thoughts with them.”

Ying Xi looked thoughtful.

He knew profound well that for an Emperor, baring one’s heart to anyone was harmful to both himself and others.

Ying Xi calmly put a stop to it. “I do not need that.”

“But…” Sweet Tub still wanted to persuade him.

However, having realized their worldviews were incompatible, Ying Xi had no intention of wasting more breath. The Emperor stopped responding, his silent majesty compelling the System to obediently shut its mouth.

Sweet Tub let out a small, aggrieved hum.

Ying Xi said, “I will still execute the missions for the time being. I won’t make things difficult for you.”

Sweet Tub instantly cheered up. “Thank you, Your Majesty!”

“No need. Rest early.” Ying Xi closed his eyes as well.

Tonight, he abandoned the rigid sleeping posture of an Emperor who always lay flat. He turned on his side, curling his legs, his body creating a gentle rustling sound against the bedding.

Before going offline, Sweet Tub muttered a final whisper: “I’ve seen Your Majesty’s portrait. Your Majesty is truly good-looking. And Your Majesty’s voice… it’s like…”

“Hm?”

“Like ice colliding with jade!” Sweet Tub praised with a giggle.

The night wind stirred the candle flames, causing the wicks to tremble. In the mourning hall of the Xie residence, a dim light flickered incessantly. The funeral banners swayed in the night breeze, brushing against the peeling lacquer of the doors.

In truth, the Touqi—the first seven days after death—had already passed for the former Duke of Ying.

But since he had brought back the partial remains of his father pieced together from the battlefield to Chang’an, Xie Qianli wished to keep vigil in the capital, guiding his father’s soul home.

He had removed his armor and washed away the filth from his body.

Yet, he remained sleepless, waiting in the mourning hall. He kept expecting to hear the sound of his father’s vigorous footsteps suddenly appear outside.

His father was not old; his voice had been booming and full of vitality, he treated others with generosity, and he could still draw a heavy bow.

Xie Qianli never imagined that in a situation where the enemy and their forces were evenly matched, his father would be defeated.

He certainly never imagined that before realizing he couldn’t escape, his father would release a falcon to bring him a final command: Continue to serve the Imperial Court with loyalty.

The falcon cooed sorrowfully.

Xie Qianli’s profile was tall and imposing, the bridge of his nose high and straight. In the moment he recalled his father’s last words, he also recalled that face of Ying Xi’s—a face that hadn’t changed in years, a face that could still be called peerless.

Xie Qianli’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

His fingers, resting on the floor in front of the prayer cushion, tensed. The tips almost dug into the floorboards; a fingernail snapped, and with a crack, a wooden splinter pierced the gap between his nail and flesh. Yet, Xie Qianli didn’t notice the pain at all.

“General.” Lieutenant Feng Ze walked into the mourning hall, his eye sockets sunken, his steps slow and heavy.

The Feng family had followed the Xie family for two generations. Feng Ze’s father was a comrade-in-arms with Xie Ji, and Feng Ze had grown up with Xie Qianli.

Since the Duke of Ying died in battle, Feng Ze had been equally distraught, wasting away until he was skeletal in just a few days.

Choking back tears, Feng Ze knelt in the mourning hall and kowtowed.

Then, he reported to Xie Qianli: “I asked around the court. It is said that the Emperor saw the obituary memorial at noon, and then immediately ordered song and dance at Shanglin Park.”

This behavior might be, as the Emperor claimed, because the grief was too hard to bear, and he desired a distraction.

Or, it could be a secret celebration.

But most people would assume Ying Xi was rejoicing over the removal of a thorn in his side.

Feng Ze spoke with grief and indignation, “General Xie… The Duke of Ying… he… he…” Feng Ze choked on his words, sobbing until he could no longer speak.

Unable to voice his sorrow, Feng Ze turned it into action, knocking his head several more times against the floor before Xie Ji’s spirit tablet.

Xie Qianli reigned in his emotions, appearing as steady as a pine or cypress.

When his father was alive, he could occasionally indulge in the temperament of a youth. Now, he had to shoulder all the military duties his father left behind. Xie Qianli could only present himself as the new Duke of Ying.

Inconspicuously curling his blood-stained fingers, Xie Qianli asked, “Was there any other unusual behavior?”

“After receiving the tragic news, the Emperor hasn’t looked at a single memorial up to this moment. He went to bed early and even punished Yu Jing. I heard Yu Jing has an injury on his forehead.”

“Understood.” Xie Qianli nodded.

The candle flame jumped again. In that instant, time seemed to blur, and the image of the teenage Ying Xi flashed rapidly before Xie Qianli’s eyes.

Xie Qianli spoke in a deep voice, “He has never neglected government affairs, unless a catastrophe occurred. If he wanted to consolidate power, he should be even more diligent right now.”

Moreover, why would Ying Xi wipe that blood-stained long spear…

Clearly, a simple exchange of pleasantries would have sufficed.

There was absolutely no need for him to do something so superfluous!

Xie Qianli frowned, finally taking a deep breath. “I want the truth about my father’s death. I will not wrong anyone, but investigate again.”

“Yes,” Feng Ze replied.

This was the most relaxing night of rest Ying Xi had experienced since his rebirth.

Ying Xi slept for a full four shichen (eight hours).

He wanted to sleep more, but physiologically he couldn’t; long-term habits were not easily broken in a single day.

In this life, Ying Xi had realized that too much of a good thing was as bad as too little, so he didn’t force it. He woke with the morning light and dressed with Yu Jing’s assistance.

“The early spring is cold. This slave has prepared two outer robes for your selection,” Yu Jing said while adjusting the Emperor’s inner garments. “One has a coiled dragon and flowing cloud pattern, the other has an intertwining magnolia branch pattern. Both are the same color. Whichever one catches Your Majesty’s eye, please choose.”

Beside the dragon bed in the sleeping quarters, two internal officials held up clothing racks, displaying the two garments before the Emperor.

Usually, Yu Jing was strictly business and wouldn’t put this much thought into it.

Now, there was a marked change in Yu Jing.

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