Story cover for The Dragon Emperor's Beloved Male Empress (Interstellar) by Youshai
The Dragon Emperor's Beloved Male Empress (Interstellar)
Youshai
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    Parts 5
  • WpHistory
    Time 39m
  • WpView
    Reads 994
  • WpVote
    Votes 79
  • WpPart
    Parts 5
  • WpHistory
    Time 39m
Youshai
Ongoing, First published Jul 02, 2024
Mature
blboyxboydanmeidragonsempressfictiongayfictioninterstellarlgbtlgbtfictionmalepregnancymalexmalemanxboymxbrebornreincarnationroyalfamilyyaoinovelyaoistory
After working tirelessly for 40 years Chen Mo died suddenly in his sleep. Chen Mo thought this would be the end however, to his surprise he was reborn again as Rin, in the interstellar era, where humans can transform into beasts. 

Born again Chen Mo/Rin decided to live his life, and enjoy his time with family, and friends but who would have thought unknowingly he walked into the path of working hard again?

_ _ _ _ _

Vincent Leo Dragan, the crown prince of Emporium Galaxy aka the tyrant was forced to go on blind dates to establish a crown princess. However, he rejected one after another,  as none of them were good enough for him. He was conflicted and troubled as to how to choose his crown princess, that was until he saw Rin.

Update every Sunday.
All Rights Reserved
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Table of contents

5 parts

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The Abandoned Consort

21 parts Ongoing

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the dim chamber, casting shadows on the stone walls. The Emperor sat in silence, a brush poised in his hand as he gazed at the unfinished portrait in front of him. His features were taut with concentration, yet there was a deep sadness in his eyes-a sadness that had been his constant companion for twenty years. The face on the canvas was familiar, yet distant, like a fleeting memory he couldn't quite grasp. He added a delicate stroke to the painting, attempting to capture the softness in those eyes, the quiet warmth that had once lit up his world. But no matter how hard he tried, something was missing. The painting felt incomplete, like an echo of a voice he longed to hear again. "Does it look like him, Hong?" The Emperor's voice was low, barely a murmur. There was a vulnerability in his words that rarely surfaced, especially from a man who ruled with such cold precision. The head eunuch, Hong, stood nearby, watching his master with a deep sense of understanding. "Your Majesty... it resembles him, but..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Perhaps no painting could truly capture his essence." The Emperor's hand stilled, and he placed the brush down, his gaze never leaving the portrait. "It's been twenty years, and I still can't remember his face perfectly." His voice cracked ever so slightly, betraying the grief he usually kept hidden

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